Read Online The Forgotten by David Baldacci - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: David Baldacci
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it’s a question of manpower I’m here to volunteer my services. And I’ve been around a lot of accidents and murders too. The Army unfortunately has an abundance of both. And I’ve handled cases that started out looking like an accident that turned into something else and vice versa.”
“Well, maybe you’re just not as good as we are,” shot back Bullock.
“Maybe I’m not. But why don’t we find out for sure? We have a little question of justice to be answered.”
Bullock rubbed his face with his hand like he was working off some fine grit, and shook his head.
“Okay, I think we’re done here. I’m sorry for your loss, if she isyour aunt. But I would not advise going near her property again unless you have appropriate authorization. Next time we will arrest you.”
“And how exactly do I get authorization?”
“Talk to her lawyer. Maybe he can help. Probably just charge you a few thousand dollars.”
“I don’t know who her lawyer is. Maybe if I could go back to her house and check?”
“What part of appropriate authorization don’t you get?” said Bullock.
“So it’s a chicken and egg problem?”
“Hell, she’s
your
family, or so you say.”
Puller slipped out the picture. “I’ve got this.”
Bullock waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, Landry told me about that. It’s not conclusive proof of anything.”
“So that’s it? That’s all you’ll do?”
“What I’m doing is my job. To serve and protect.”
“Well, if Betsy Simon was killed, you didn’t do a really good job on either one, did you?”
Bullock rose and stared down at Puller. For an instant Puller thought the man was going to pull his gun, but he simply said, “You have a good day, Mr. Puller.” He nodded at Landry, who said, “You can follow me out, Agent Puller.”
After the door closed behind them Hooper was next to Puller in an instant, his hand on his elbow again, like a sheepdog to a sheep. Only Puller would never be classified as a sheep. He firmly removed Hooper’s hand from his elbow and said, “Thanks. But unlike my aunt, I can walk unaided.”
Before Hooper could say anything Puller walked off, retracing his steps from the way in. Landry fell in behind him.
“I need my gun back,” said Puller.
“It’s in the police cruiser. We can drop you off at your car.”
“Thanks, I’d rather walk,” said Puller.
“It’s a long walk.”
Puller turned to look at her. “I have a lot to think about. And I’ve never been in Paradise before. I’d like to see every inch of it. Mightnever get another chance. Most folks who know me have me down for heading to the other place.”
At this Landry cracked a smile.
They reached the cruiser and Landry handed him back his M11 as Hooper hovered in the background, still looking upset that Puller wasn’t behind bars.
Landry handed Puller a card. “If you need any help,” she said, her gaze searching his for an instant before looking away. “Personal cell phone number’s on the back.”
Puller slid his M11 into the belt holster and her card into his shirt pocket.
“Appreciate that. Might take you up on it, Officer Landry.”
He glanced over her shoulder at Hooper. “He always so friendly?”
“He’s a good cop,” she said in a low voice.
“Never said he wasn’t. But tell him to lay off the elbow intimidation thing. Gets old after about thirty seconds.”
She edged closer. “Try Bailey’s Funeral Home. It’s over off Atlantic Avenue. Where the ME does her work. We don’t have a formal medical examiner’s office in Paradise. She’s a doctor in practice who helps us out.”
“Thanks.”
He turned and strode off.
Hooper called after him, “Next time you won’t get off so easy.”
Puller just kept walking.
13
P ULLER CALLED Bailey’s Funeral Home on the walk back to his car. The woman on the phone would not confirm that Betsy Simon’s body was on the premises.
“Well, if you do have her body, I’m her nephew. And if
“Well, maybe you’re just not as good as we are,” shot back Bullock.
“Maybe I’m not. But why don’t we find out for sure? We have a little question of justice to be answered.”
Bullock rubbed his face with his hand like he was working off some fine grit, and shook his head.
“Okay, I think we’re done here. I’m sorry for your loss, if she isyour aunt. But I would not advise going near her property again unless you have appropriate authorization. Next time we will arrest you.”
“And how exactly do I get authorization?”
“Talk to her lawyer. Maybe he can help. Probably just charge you a few thousand dollars.”
“I don’t know who her lawyer is. Maybe if I could go back to her house and check?”
“What part of appropriate authorization don’t you get?” said Bullock.
“So it’s a chicken and egg problem?”
“Hell, she’s
your
family, or so you say.”
Puller slipped out the picture. “I’ve got this.”
Bullock waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, Landry told me about that. It’s not conclusive proof of anything.”
“So that’s it? That’s all you’ll do?”
“What I’m doing is my job. To serve and protect.”
“Well, if Betsy Simon was killed, you didn’t do a really good job on either one, did you?”
Bullock rose and stared down at Puller. For an instant Puller thought the man was going to pull his gun, but he simply said, “You have a good day, Mr. Puller.” He nodded at Landry, who said, “You can follow me out, Agent Puller.”
After the door closed behind them Hooper was next to Puller in an instant, his hand on his elbow again, like a sheepdog to a sheep. Only Puller would never be classified as a sheep. He firmly removed Hooper’s hand from his elbow and said, “Thanks. But unlike my aunt, I can walk unaided.”
Before Hooper could say anything Puller walked off, retracing his steps from the way in. Landry fell in behind him.
“I need my gun back,” said Puller.
“It’s in the police cruiser. We can drop you off at your car.”
“Thanks, I’d rather walk,” said Puller.
“It’s a long walk.”
Puller turned to look at her. “I have a lot to think about. And I’ve never been in Paradise before. I’d like to see every inch of it. Mightnever get another chance. Most folks who know me have me down for heading to the other place.”
At this Landry cracked a smile.
They reached the cruiser and Landry handed him back his M11 as Hooper hovered in the background, still looking upset that Puller wasn’t behind bars.
Landry handed Puller a card. “If you need any help,” she said, her gaze searching his for an instant before looking away. “Personal cell phone number’s on the back.”
Puller slid his M11 into the belt holster and her card into his shirt pocket.
“Appreciate that. Might take you up on it, Officer Landry.”
He glanced over her shoulder at Hooper. “He always so friendly?”
“He’s a good cop,” she said in a low voice.
“Never said he wasn’t. But tell him to lay off the elbow intimidation thing. Gets old after about thirty seconds.”
She edged closer. “Try Bailey’s Funeral Home. It’s over off Atlantic Avenue. Where the ME does her work. We don’t have a formal medical examiner’s office in Paradise. She’s a doctor in practice who helps us out.”
“Thanks.”
He turned and strode off.
Hooper called after him, “Next time you won’t get off so easy.”
Puller just kept walking.
13
P ULLER CALLED Bailey’s Funeral Home on the walk back to his car. The woman on the phone would not confirm that Betsy Simon’s body was on the premises.
“Well, if you do have her body, I’m her nephew. And if
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