"Not unless someone I'm after jumps in the water. Wanted to talk to you."
She walked over to a teak chaise longue with a blue cushion with white piping set against one wall. A terrycloth robe was there. She slipped it on and sat down on the chaise.
"What about? Did lunch not agree with you? You seem out of sorts."
He perched on a chair next to her. "I was actually wondering whether I should arrest you."
She appeared startled. "What? Why?"
"Attempted murder of a federal officer."
She sat forward. "And how exactly do you figure that?"
"When I got back from lunch with you there was a bomb under my car. I'm getting tired of people trying to turn me into little pieces of flesh."
"I know nothing about that. And since I was with you at lunch I could hardly have planted a bomb in your car."
"You could have paid someone to do it."
"And why would I do that?"
"That's what I'm here to find out."
"I need to get dressed. I have a dinner to go to tonight. If you want to continue this conversation, we'll have to do it at another time."
"Actually, we'll do it right now."
She stood. "I want you out of my house. Now!"
"And I want some answers. I'm here with the blessing of the police department."
Jean's lips parted but she said nothing.
"In other words, your sister knows I'm here."
"I didn't put a bomb in your car."
"Under my car." my car."
"I didn't do that either. What reason would I have to kill you?"
"That's an easy one. I'm here to investigate a series of murders. If you or someone you're connected to is involved in those crimes you'd naturally want me out of the way. So you invite me to lunch. You insist on driving. We come back and I almost go boom. You can see why I'm suspicious."
She sat back down; her confidence seemed to drain away. "I... I can't explain that. I don't know what is going on." When she looked back up there were tears in her eyes. "I'm telling you the truth, Puller."
He watched her, debating the authenticity of those tears. He'd watched lots of suspects cry, from iron-hard soldiers to expectant moms to teenagers who'd lost their way as military brats.
"Just because you say it's the truth doesn't mean anything to me," he said. "So until I find out otherwise, you're officially a suspect. Do you understand that?"
She nodded dumbly.
"And if you have any information that would help me in my investigation, now would be a really good time to share it."
"Information like what?"
"Like why is your husband so nervous. And don't tell me it's about death threats. I've come to the conclusion that that's just bullshit. It happened before, with your brother, and I think he's just using that as a convenient cover."
"Cover for what?"
"He's upgraded his security, Jean. The driver of his Escalade? He's a former Marine."
"How do you know that?"
"Army can sniff Marines out from a hundred miles away. The guy is a pro and he's armed. And he's new, isn't he?"
"Yes."
"It was a good choice. He's light-years ahead of the old fart outside."
"But his security here hasn't really been increased. We still just have the same retired cop outside."
"That's because Roger isn't here right now. So I guess he's less concerned about your personal safety, or that of your daughter. His pro travels with him only."
"What would he be afraid of?" she asked.
"You said he has lots of enemies. But they're just the same old ones, right? How about something or someone new? That would justify the new muscle."
"I can't think of what that might be. As I said, I don't get involved in Roger's business."
"If you keep lying to me, Jean, I will cuff you and haul your ass right out of here."
More tears spilled from her eyes. "I don't want to go to jail."
"Then tell me the truth. You picked everything out at your B-and-B. Right down to the coffee cups. You know about business management. I'm betting you supervised the construction of this house, because judging from the interior decorating at Trent Exploration, that's not Roger's strong suit. So are you telling me you've ceded all knowledge of his business to him? Because I'm not buying it."
They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. The humidity weighed down on Puller. At least the desert had been a dry heat. He watched Jean. He was not going to break the silence. He was not going to get up and leave. He was just going to wait for her to finally crack.
"There are some problems at Trent Exploration."
"Like what?"
"Like missing money. Diverted accounts. Offshore phantom banking relationships. Things that shouldn't be there are. Things that should be there aren't."
"And Roger is aware of this?"
"Very."
"What's he doing about it?"
"Whatever he can, but his options are limited. He made some business decisions last year that required an infusion of capital. A lot of it. The revenues he thought would develop from those business decisions never materialized. The debts are still there. He thought he had money to cover it. But with all the money disappearing he's in a cash flow bind. That's why Roger was in New York, trying to get some financing help. But the banks still aren't lending. They've tried everywhere they can think of."
"And now death threats. Maybe from the people ripping him off?"
"I don't know," said Jean. "I really don't."
"Okay, Trent is a big company, but it's not GE. And it's located in a pretty small town. Are you telling me none of you have a clue or even a guess as to who is stealing the company blind? How about Randy?"
"Randy? Why would he do that?"
"He blames Roger for your parents' death, for one thing."
"Even so, he would be in no position to steal from Roger. He knows nothing about computers or financial transactions. This was done by people who are very familiar with both."
"Maybe somebody he's hooked up with."
"In Drake? I don't think so. The situation is getting desperate, though. Roger and Bill are running out of places to turn."
He said, "How about you? If the company goes under do you lose everything, including the house?"
"Probably. But that's why I've been building up my B-and-B. Not because I suspected Roger was having money troubles, but I... I guess I just wanted to be more independent."
In spite of himself, Puller felt sorry for her.
"So Roger really has no idea where all this financial chicanery is coming from? He's a real smart guy. How does he get ripped off and not know how?"
"It's been driving him and Bill crazy. Their whole lives are tied up in this company. If it goes down, they go down."
Puller said nothing. He just stared moodily off.
Jean eyed the scars on his neck.
"Middle East?"
He nodded.
"Remember I told you about the young man I loved?"
"The one who didn't come back from Gulf One?"
"He looked a little like you."
"Still wish he'd come back?"
"Still," she said.
He looked around. "You wouldn't have all this."
"Maybe I don't have it now."
"Maybe you don't."
He rose.
"You're not going to arrest me?"
"No. What you told me helps, though. I appreciate it."
"I used to be a naturally honest person. Then I married Roger and things changed."
He headed out the way he'd come in.
"What are you going to do?" she called after him.
"Find a killer."
CHAPTER
71
HEY, BILL, HOW GOES IT?"
Bill Strauss had just come out of the Trent office and was heading to his car. Puller was leaning against his Malibu. He'd been waiting out here for nearly an hour.
"Puller? What are you doing here?"
Puller pushed away from the car and walked toward the man. "My job. Got some questions. You have some time?"
Strauss glanced at his watch. "I'm actually late for a meeting."
"It won't take long."
"It can't wait?"
"Not really, no."
"Okay, shoot."
"Blasting last Sunday night. No public notice given. Who authorized it?"