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“For a long time we were all each other had. Our mother was gone and our dad might as well have been.” He nudged a roasted potato on his plate. “That may be one reason I never took the plunge.”
“What? Marriage?”
“Yeah.”
“Why? Afraid you’d be a crappy father?”
“Crappy husband too.”
“I don’t see that, Puller, I really don’t. You’d make a great catch. And a great dad. Teaching your kids right and wrong, how to color in the lines, throw a ball, execute a room breach, fire a sniper rifle, take out four bad guys with a piece of rope and a stick of chewing
gum. All good life lessons.”
“You ever think of getting hitched?”
“Actually, I did.”
Puller hiked his eyebrows. “You mean you thought about it?”
“No, Puller, I mean I walked down the aisle, exchanged rings, and got married in front of a licensed preacher.”
“When?”
“Long time ago. We were both eighteen. High school sweethearts. It lasted all of fourteen days. Big friggin’ shock there, right? I mean, we both knew exactly who we were and what we wanted in life at eighteen, right? Well, turns out we were clueless. So we did a bookend. And got it annulled. So there’s no record of it even happening.”
“Did a bookend? What does that mean?”
“That means we were married in Vegas and divorced there, all within the span of two weeks. We returned our rings and signed the necessary papers and went our separate ways. I never even told my parents. They thought I was at a college prep retreat.”
“Why do I not picture that at all? I mean, you marrying at eighteen in a wedding chapel in Sin City?”
“I told you I liked to live my life fast. But the fact is I was a straight-as-an-arrow, straight-A student, three varsity letters, did everything right back then. Never walked off the line my parents laid down for me. I won all the awards, got into all the best schools. Then something snapped and I went psycho right after high school graduation. Like I said, it lasted for two weeks. After that I got back on track. I got a top-notch education at Amherst while also servicing my athletic side, earned a master’s, decided to serve my country on the intelligence side, and the rest, as they say, is history.” She gazed over at him. “You ever do anything like that?”
“No.”
She looked disappointed. “Always by the book, then?”
“I was an Army brat with an officer for a father. The book was all we ever knew. The Army way or nothing.” He said this last part with particular sternness.
“Okay,” she said, taken aback by his tone. “I’ll just call you ‘by-the-book Puller’ from now on.”
“Okay, but what do people call you?” he said, his tone suddenly harsh.
They stared at each other for a long, uncomfortable moment. “What exactly do you mean by that?” she asked.
“It’s just a question.”
“They call me Veronica Knox. Okay, now let me ask you one. What changed from a few hours ago to now? Because three hours ago things seemed pretty good between us. I shot somebody who was trying to do us harm. But you’re being so cold and distant now I feel like I’m in Alaska instead of North Carolina.”
“You’re just being a little sensitive, I think.”
“No, I’m just someone who wants the truth, Puller. You up to providing it?”
“I’ve never lied to you, Knox. And I never will.”
“I know, you kept pointing out my deficiencies on that score and you were probably right to do so. But I thought by now I had proved to you that I’m on the up-and-up. So, again, what’s changed?”
“I like how you put things. You should think about writing a novel. Or a blog.”
“And you should think about stopping the bullshit and telling me what’s going on.”
Puller started to say something, maybe more than he should. An internal struggle ended with him standing up, checking his watch, and saying, “It’s time for our meeting with Todd Landry.”
She sat there as he walked out of the restaurant. Knox muttered, “Women are supposed to be complicated, not guys!” Then she grabbed her jacket and followed him.
CHAPTER
43
THEY HAD MADE an eight o’clock appointment to meet with Todd Landry, Robert Puller’s former defense counsel. He was at his downtown office in Charlotte, only a short walk from the Ritz.
A secretary led them back to a small conference room in the rear of the office space. As they walked along, Puller took in the blond wood and tasteful artwork and felt his feet sink into the thick carpet. He noted the elaborate layout of cubicles where people looked as busy as bees in a honeycomb as they toiled away on whatever legal conundrum they were confronting.
Landry greeted them at the door of the conference room. He was about five-eight, thin, with a ring of grayish hair encircling the crown of his head. He wore a dark double-breasted suit and a paisley tie fronting a light blue patterned shirt. Puller also noted the gold monogrammed links on the French cuffs.
A man careful about his appearance.
Landry had retained his military bearing in the ramrod-straight posture, firm handshake, and take-charge demeanor.
“Have a seat. I’m sure you want to get down to it. Coffee, water?”
“No, thanks,” said Puller, and Knox shook her head.
They all sat as Landry unbuttoned his suit coat and waited.
“I suppose you know why we’re here,” began Puller.
“Robert Puller. Can’t believe he got out of DB. I thought he was innocent, you know. Can’t say that about most of my clients. I guess I was wrong about him.”
“Maybe you weren’t,” said Puller. “We’ve uncovered enough to make us concerned that an innocent man was indeed sent to prison.”
“Then why escape?”
“We really can’t get into that, but we can tell you that there are extenuating circumstances.”
“Okay, I know I’m not in the military anymore and my need-to-know is pretty nonexistent, but you had some questions nonetheless?”
“We’ve met with Doug Fletcher already,” said Knox.
Landry nodded. “Good guy, good lawyer. He’s teaching at JAG now in Charlottesville.”
“Right. And you spoke with Shireen Kirk?” said Puller.
Landry smiled. “I hated going up against her. She kicked my ass more times than I care to admit. I hope she never moves to Charlotte and goes into private practice.”
“We appreciated your being so frank with her.”
Landry nodded in understanding. “Look, it was a strange case all around. None of it made sense. I know the evidence showed online gambling as the motive, and he had the means and opportunity, but I never bought that. That all can be fabricated quite easily. If Robert hadn’t been so egotistical about someone hacking his computer the verdict might have been different. Maybe not, but at least we would have had a fighting chance.”
“We understand there was a letter from Robert’s father,” said Knox, drawing a quick glance from Puller.
Landry eyed Puller. “From your father too. I know who you are.”
“Yes.”
“Your brother said you were the best investigator the DoD had. Really proud of you.”
