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Authors: David Baldacci
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scene.”
“Technically, maybe not, but that could change.”
“Your aunt was how old?”
“Eighty-six.”
“And used a walker, the report said. She fell, hit her head, and drowned. I’m very sorry it happened. Lost my grandmother to a drowning accident. Had a seizure in the bathtub. She was old too. It just happened. Nothing anyone could do. Looks to be the same here. You shouldn’t feel guilty about it,” he added.
“Has it been confirmed that she drowned?” asked Puller, ignoring this last barb.
When neither of them said anything, he said, “Unless Florida isreally different, there has to be something written on the death certificate in the ‘cause of death’ box or people get a little nervous.”
“Water in the lungs, so yes, she drowned,” said Bullock. “Medical examiner completed the autopsy last night. Technically I believe the term is—”
Puller finished for him, “Yeah, asphyxiation. Can I see the report?”
“No, you can’t. They don’t go out to anyone except next of kin and those with a court order.”
“I’m her nephew.”
“So you say, but even so, I’ve always interpreted the definition of next of kin to be immediate family.”
“She doesn’t have any. Her husband’s dead, and her only sibling is back in Virginia at a VA hospital and lacks the mental capacity to handle this. And she had no kids.”
“I’m sorry. There’s really nothing I can do about that,” said Bullock. “The privacy of the deceased is not something I take lightly.”
“But you do take lightly that someone might have murdered her?”
Bullock snapped, “I don’t care for what you’re insinuating.”
“Weren’t you going to contact her next of kin?” Puller asked.
“We were in the process of doing that. We did a preliminary search of her home, but didn’t find any helpful info. And you have to understand, this is Florida. Lots of elderly, lots of deaths. We have four others we’re running down next of kin on and I have limited manpower.”
“The ME listing drowning as the cause of death tells us what killed her. It doesn’t tell us how she got in the water in the first place.”
“She fell.”
“That’s a guess, not a fact.”
Landry stirred, seemingly about to say something, but then apparently thought better of it and remained silent.
Puller noticed this but didn’t react. He figured he could have a chat with her later, outside the presence of her boss.
“It’s an educated, professional assumption based on the facts on the ground,” corrected Bullock.
“An educated assumption is really just a guess in sheep’s clothing. The real reason I’m down here is because of a letter she sent.” He pulled it from his pocket and handed it to Bullock. Landry moved around and read it over her supervisor’s shoulder.
Bullock finished reading, folded the letter, and handed it back. “Proves nothing. If I had a dollar for every time some old woman thought something weird was going on, I’d retire a rich man.”
“Really? That would take like over a million old crazy ladies, wouldn’t it? The population of Paradise is 11,457. I checked before coming down. You’re going to have to recruit a lot more old crazy ladies if you want to retire.”
Before Bullock could respond to this a fax machine on a credenza behind him zinged to life. A paper came down the chute. Bullock picked it up, alternated reading it and gazing at Puller.
“Okay, you are who you say you are.”
“Nice to have it confirmed.”
“Landry here tells me you’re Army CID.”
“That’s right. About six years. Before that I was in the ranks carrying a rifle.”
“Well, I’ve been chief of police of this little hamlet for fifteen, and fifteen years before that I was a cop pounding the streets. Saw my share of murders and accidents. This is the latter, not the former.”
“Am I missing something here?” asked Puller. “Is there some reason you don’t want to check this out more thoroughly? If
“Technically, maybe not, but that could change.”
“Your aunt was how old?”
“Eighty-six.”
“And used a walker, the report said. She fell, hit her head, and drowned. I’m very sorry it happened. Lost my grandmother to a drowning accident. Had a seizure in the bathtub. She was old too. It just happened. Nothing anyone could do. Looks to be the same here. You shouldn’t feel guilty about it,” he added.
“Has it been confirmed that she drowned?” asked Puller, ignoring this last barb.
When neither of them said anything, he said, “Unless Florida isreally different, there has to be something written on the death certificate in the ‘cause of death’ box or people get a little nervous.”
“Water in the lungs, so yes, she drowned,” said Bullock. “Medical examiner completed the autopsy last night. Technically I believe the term is—”
Puller finished for him, “Yeah, asphyxiation. Can I see the report?”
“No, you can’t. They don’t go out to anyone except next of kin and those with a court order.”
“I’m her nephew.”
“So you say, but even so, I’ve always interpreted the definition of next of kin to be immediate family.”
“She doesn’t have any. Her husband’s dead, and her only sibling is back in Virginia at a VA hospital and lacks the mental capacity to handle this. And she had no kids.”
“I’m sorry. There’s really nothing I can do about that,” said Bullock. “The privacy of the deceased is not something I take lightly.”
“But you do take lightly that someone might have murdered her?”
Bullock snapped, “I don’t care for what you’re insinuating.”
“Weren’t you going to contact her next of kin?” Puller asked.
“We were in the process of doing that. We did a preliminary search of her home, but didn’t find any helpful info. And you have to understand, this is Florida. Lots of elderly, lots of deaths. We have four others we’re running down next of kin on and I have limited manpower.”
“The ME listing drowning as the cause of death tells us what killed her. It doesn’t tell us how she got in the water in the first place.”
“She fell.”
“That’s a guess, not a fact.”
Landry stirred, seemingly about to say something, but then apparently thought better of it and remained silent.
Puller noticed this but didn’t react. He figured he could have a chat with her later, outside the presence of her boss.
“It’s an educated, professional assumption based on the facts on the ground,” corrected Bullock.
“An educated assumption is really just a guess in sheep’s clothing. The real reason I’m down here is because of a letter she sent.” He pulled it from his pocket and handed it to Bullock. Landry moved around and read it over her supervisor’s shoulder.
Bullock finished reading, folded the letter, and handed it back. “Proves nothing. If I had a dollar for every time some old woman thought something weird was going on, I’d retire a rich man.”
“Really? That would take like over a million old crazy ladies, wouldn’t it? The population of Paradise is 11,457. I checked before coming down. You’re going to have to recruit a lot more old crazy ladies if you want to retire.”
Before Bullock could respond to this a fax machine on a credenza behind him zinged to life. A paper came down the chute. Bullock picked it up, alternated reading it and gazing at Puller.
“Okay, you are who you say you are.”
“Nice to have it confirmed.”
“Landry here tells me you’re Army CID.”
“That’s right. About six years. Before that I was in the ranks carrying a rifle.”
“Well, I’ve been chief of police of this little hamlet for fifteen, and fifteen years before that I was a cop pounding the streets. Saw my share of murders and accidents. This is the latter, not the former.”
“Am I missing something here?” asked Puller. “Is there some reason you don’t want to check this out more thoroughly? If
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