Chapter
48
FOUR FACES STARED back at John Puller.
Four women.
They were young. They were professional.
And they were all dead.
He had looked at these photos before, without much success.
He leaned back in his chair in his motel room and did another search on the name Atalanta. According to mythology, Atalanta had been left on a mountaintop by her father to die. Only Atalanta was cared for by a she-bear and survived. She became an exemplary fighter and huntress and a committed virgin, spurning advances from all men and even challenging them to footraces, with death to the loser. But a clever fellow enlisted the aid of Aphrodite and beat Atalanta in a race. They married and had a son. Then Atalanta and her husband were turned into lions by a goddess who felt they had disrespected her.
Puller rubbed his eyes and wondered where any of this crap was getting him. He had never once in his life used mythology to track down a criminal, and he really didn’t want to start now.
He settled on his other possible lead. Crushing injuries. The women had all suffered crushing injuries.
He closed his eyes and thought back to the crime scene at the Grunt.
The medical examiner had used that word several times.
Crushing.
Paul the bouncer looked to be in his fifties. He had completely destroyed a group of big, strong men. Manhandled them in fact. Puller had been jumped by one, and though he had beaten the guy with his superior fighting skills, he hadn’t crushed any part of the man. And it had been a tough fight.
And Paul had clearly wanted to get out of there before the police arrived. So who, or what, was this guy? Was he the super freak that he and Knox had speculated might have come out of Building Q? Thirty years ago he would have been in his twenties. But if so, why would he be a bouncer at the Grunt? Had he remained in the area after all these years? Why? It made no sense.
Puller’s phone rang. He looked at the screen.
It was Knox.
Puller hesitated. But if he didn’t answer, he supposed she would just call back until he did.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?” she said immediately.
“Why?”
“Because all hell broke loose last night in Hampton.” She paused. “What do you know about that?”
“I heard the sirens.”
“Don’t lie to me, Puller! I’m staring at a police report that has you listed as being on the scene and shooting and killing someone.”
“Well, that was quick work on your part.”
“So what do you know?” she persisted.
Puller hesitated and looked at his watch. “You have time for some breakfast?”
She didn’t respond at first. “Just like that? After kicking my ass to the curb?”
“We all have to eat.”
“Where and when?”
He told her.
He grabbed a shower, changed his clothes, and drove to the hole-in-the-wall diner he’d spotted previously. He didn’t want to do this, because he didn’t fully trust her. But another part of him realized he needed Knox’s resources if he was to have any chance of solving this case.
Knox was already seated at a booth in the back with a cup of coffee in front of her. She wore jeans, a black blazer, three-inch boots, and an expression that could have melted titanium.
He sat down across from her, ordered a coffee, and fingered the plastic menu she slid across to him.
“You look good,” he said.
She took a sip of coffee, gave him a blank stare, and said, “Don’t try to play nice. You are already on my last nerve.”
“Didn’t know that.”
“Like hell.”
Knox drew in a quick breath. “Like the murdered women?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ask the people at the bar about him?”
“I intend to. Last night was a little chaotic.”
“Right, of course. But if we can get to this Paul guy.”