“From a long time ago?” asked Puller.
Rogers glanced up at him.
Puller said, “I think she also tried to kill you. I mean very recently. At the Grunt.”
Rogers kept his gaze on Puller.
“Those guys who attacked the bar? I don’t see them doing what they did that night unless they were paid to do it. And the only thing worth killing there was you.”
Rogers eyed him suspiciously. “Why do you care?”
“We know about the four women who were killed,” said Knox. “And their bodies buried around this area.”
“Five,” said Rogers. “It was five women, not four.”
Puller went rigid and Knox gave him a nervous glance.
“Five?” said Knox. “But only four bodies were ever discovered.”
“They took her. They took the fifth one.”
“Where was this?” asked Puller.
“Fort Monroe.”
“Who took her?” asked Knox.
“Them! They took her.”
“Did you kill those women?” asked Knox.
Rogers said nothing. He just sat there taking measured breaths, his head bowed, his hands clasped in front of him.
“Did you know that her name was Jackie Puller?” asked Knox. “The fifth person that was killed?”
Rogers looked at her from under hooded eyes. “No, it wasn’t.”
Puller stiffened some more and then relaxed. “Then who was it?” he asked. “What was her name?”
“Audrey Moore.”
“Why did you kill her?” asked Puller.
“Who said I did?” Rogers said sharply.
“Assuming that you did, would it have been random?”
Rogers started to rub the spot on his head again.
Puller licked his lips and said, “Do you know what happened to Jackie Puller?”
“She has your last name. Who was she to you?”
“My mother.”
“None of the women were mothers.”
“In my wallet there’s a picture of her from the investigation file. Can you look and tell me if you ever saw her around here?”
“Why do you think I care?”
“Will you just please do it? Please?”
Rogers stared at him for a few moments and then took the damp wallet out and found the picture.
“Do you remember her?” asked Puller.
Rogers put the picture back into the wallet and stuffed it back into Puller’s jacket. “I never saw her. And I would have remembered her.”
Puller gave an imperceptible sigh of relief. “So these other women worked with you?”
Rogers said nothing.
Puller said, “This was three decades ago. Why are you back here now?”
“Unfinished business.”
“Claire Jericho?”
“Unfinished business.”
“We’re not working with her. If anything, we’re working against her.”
“But you’re also looking into the murders of those women.”
“Did you kill them?” Puller asked.
Puller eyed him. “They took away your ability to feel pain.”
“They took away everything that made me human.”
Puller said slowly, “They made you…the perfect killing machine.”
“Only they forgot that your target might not always be the enemy,” said Knox breathlessly.
“My enemy became whoever was in front of me,” said Rogers dully. “I had no control over it.”