But his training took over and he answered. In the Army your CO calls and you just pick up the phone no matter what. Otherwise, you would not be in the Army much longer. You’d be in a stockade.
“Yes sir?”
“Puller, got a call from the Twelfth MPs.”
“Yes sir?”
“They filled me in on what’s going on.”
Puller felt his gut tighten a notch. “They came to see me when I was with my father.”
“They told me that too. Agent Hull seems competent. I checked his record. Not a mark on it.”
“I’m sure. He seemed good to me too.”
“Damn shame all this is coming out now.”
“Damn shame,” parroted Puller.
“You got a couple days’ leave, right?”
“Yes sir.”
“You worked your ass off in Germany. Nailed those suckers to the wall.”
“Thank you, sir. I had a good team over there. A lot of support.”
“Right. Anyway, I was thinking you probably needed a little more R&R than a couple days. Go ahead and take a week. Check in when you can.”
Puller could barely believe what he was hearing. “A week?”
“Check in. If you need longer, let me know. I can’t remember the last time you took any time off, Puller. Even a soldier needs to recharge.”
“Yes sir, thank you, sir.”
“And Puller, step lightly. If things get hairy it’s above my pay grade to backstop you. You do this with flanks uncovered, understood?”
“Understood.”
The line went dead and Puller slowly pocketed his phone.
A mixed message. But one Puller heard loud and clear. First, the time off. Then the warning that his ass was exposed and no reinforcements would be coming.
He drove on.
* * *
Lucy Bristow did not seem familiar to Puller from across the width of her breakfast room table.
She was petite, slender, with short silver hair containing blonde highlights. Her eyes were large for her small, oval face, giving her a perpetually penetrating stare. A gold bracelet dangled on her wrist. She had made tea and given a porcelain cup full of it to Puller.
“I remember Jackie very well,” she said. “I remember you and your brother too. I doubt you remember me. You were just little boys.”
Puller took a sip of the tea. It was hot and minty.
“And my father?”
She gave him a sharp glance. “Everyone at Fort Monroe knew John Puller Sr. He’d recently gotten his first star, brigadier general. I remember my husband told me your father’s career was tied to a rocket but that he deserved it. He wasn’t a paper pusher. He was a fighting man’s officer. He’d paid his dues. He told me your father had more sheer courage than any flag officer above him.”
“I understand your husband was in the Army?”
“Yes. He was a lieutenant colonel in your father’s command. We saw your parents quite frequently socially.”
“Is he still alive?”
“No, he’s not. He died a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“We were separated shortly before, but it was still a shock.” She put her cup of tea down and rubbed at her temple.
Puller watched her. “I’m sure.”
“We didn’t have children, so that made it a bit easier, if something like that can be made easier. My father was Army too, enlisted. Maxed out as an SFC. So an oh-seven was in the stratosphere for me,” she added, referring to the official pay grade rank of a brigadier general.
“I’m an enlisted as well,” said Puller.
“That’s right. I heard you didn’t follow your father to West Point.”
Puller was surprised by this. “Who did you hear that from?”
“Army women keep in touch. Scuttlebutt as fine art, I like to say.”
“Carol Powers told me essentially the same thing.”
“I guess not.”
“But I had several miscarriages too, and it was something that Jackie shared with me after she learned of my loss. That’s why I know those details. When you called, I focused on that time in my life, and it was surprising how easily all our conversations came back to me.”
They fell silent for a few moments.
“Can you tell me anything about the day she disappeared?” asked Puller finally.
Bristow gazed over his shoulder. “I really can’t, John. You see, I had left my husband by then and moved into an apartment off the post.”