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“You had nothing to do with this.”
“But if she hadn’t seen what I was doing.”
“I don’t blame you. As far as I’m concerned, next to my mother you’re the most blameless person in the whole thing.”
Rogers turned and walked over and stood next to Knox. She started quietly talking to him.
Robert squatted next to the hole. His brother joined him.
“What are you thinking, Bobby?” asked Puller.
“That it’s a peaceful place. That she was resting in peace.”
“We still have to confirm that it’s her.”
Yet Puller knew that it was. The only reason they had been directed here was because this was the payoff. The information about this location, with no strings or prosecutions attached. Jericho was home free.
Puller still felt sick about it. He had never felt so helpless in his life. No skill he had, no weapon he could wield was of any use to him right now.
“It is peaceful,” said Puller. “A lot of flowers. She always loved flowers.” He glanced once more at Knox. Her face was granite. She finally walked away with Rogers behind her. They climbed into a waiting SUV.
They all drove to the morgue. By the time they got there the box had been opened and the remains taken out and placed on a metal autopsy table.
By now it was simply bones with bits of clothing, and small sprouts of hair here and there.
Knox and the Puller brothers looked at it through a window. Puller felt the creep of tears to his eyes.
Robert ran his gaze up and down the remains, his eyes alighting on the bits of clothing.
“Do you think it’s her?” said Puller in a low, tremulous voice.
Robert nodded. “The pattern on the dress she was wearing. That’s it.” He pointed to a patch of fabric around the bony feet. He pointed to another remnant. “And the shoes. What’s left of them. And that’s Mom’s hair color.”
“You remember her clothes and shoes?”
“I remember everything about that night, John.” He put a hand on the wall to steady himself. He suddenly bent over and sucked in several deep breaths while Puller put an arm around his brother’s shoulders, supporting him. Finally Robert straightened.
He nodded. “It’s Mom. We finally found her, John.”
Both brothers continued to look at the remains until the medical examiner came over to the table. The shade on the window was lowered as he began his work.
Knox walked over to Puller and Robert. “They’re here,” she said tersely.
Waiting in the lobby for them were a dozen MPs in body armor and carrying AR-15 assault rifles, along with a three-star who introduced himself as General Randall Blair.
This was the other payoff. Rogers in return for no prosecutions against Puller and the others for their assorted “crimes.”
Knox slid over to Rogers and whispered something in his ear. Rogers nodded and then looked blankly at the group of soldiers.
Blair pointed at Rogers. “Take that man into custody.” He quickly said to Rogers, “We will have no compunction in shooting you down if you so much as think about attacking.”
Rogers glanced at Knox and slowly put his hands behind his back. Two of the MPs shackled him with extra-thick chains.
Blair said, “I have been instructed to admonish all of you to pursue this matter no further. If you do, you will be subject to the consequences. This is an internal DoD matter and it will be pursued accordingly.”
“You mean it will be covered up,” retorted Puller.
Blair seemed to be struggling to keep his temper in check. “All I know, Chief Puller, is that this is where the matter ends. You have your mother’s remains. And so you have closure.”
“Fuck closure,” roared Puller, who took a step forward before his brother grabbed his arm as three of the MPs leveled their AR-15s at him.
Puller barked, “So that’s what you guys are going to do? Just bury this? Again? Let her keep on going? That’s what it means to you to wear the uniform?” He looked straight at the MPs. “Covering up the truth?”
The men stared back at him, completely unmoved by his words.
Blair erupted, “You are one more outburst from a court-martial, soldier.” He stuck a thick finger in Puller’s face. “I don’t care who your old man is!”
“Let it go, John,” said his brother quietly as he gripped his arm.
“I’m not letting this go.”
Knox came over to him and took his other arm. “Yes you are.”
She nodded at Blair. He and the MPs left with the shackled Rogers.
A moment later Puller’s phone buzzed.
It was a text.
From Claire Jericho.
I’m so very sorry about your mother.
Puller threw the phone across the room.
Chapter
72
THE REMAINS WERE confirmed as Jackie Puller. The medical examiner concluded that she had died from a blunt force trauma to the head, which corroborated what Jericho had told Robert about the guard hitting Jackie with his gun.
Their mother was turned over to the Puller brothers and they undertook the details for her burial. The question was whether they would tell their father and have him attend the funeral, if that was even possible. They decided to visit their dad and see how it went.
The hallway was quiet as they walked down it. Puller Sr.’s outbursts had become less pronounced the longer he was a patient here.
They entered the room and saw that he was in bed, his crown of white hair just visible over the blanket. The brothers glanced at each other before walking over to stand on either side of the bed.
“Dad?” said Robert.
The old man didn’t stir.
“Dad, it’s about Mom,” added Puller.
Now their father blinked his eyes open and slowly turned his head to look first at Robert and then at John.
Robert sat down in a chair and took his father’s large, weathered hand and gripped it firmly.
“We found her. We found Mom.”
Puller Sr. started blinking rapidly.
“She didn’t leave us, Dad,” said Puller. “She…she was killed by…someone. Thirty years ago.”
Puller Sr. blinked some more as he turned over to stare up at them. Then they could both see tears trickling down his cheeks.
Robert said, “She’s going to be buried, Dad. We’re going to have a funeral for her at Fort Monroe. We”—he shot his brother a glance—“we wanted to know if you would like to come, if you think you can manage it.”
The tears kept sliding down the old man’s face.
Robert pulled something from his pocket. It was an old cassette recorder.
“What’s that?” whispered Puller.
Robert set it down on the nightstand and turned it on. A moment later they heard a woman’s voice singing.
“That’s Mom,” exclaimed Puller. “Where did you get that?”
“Lucy Bristow. She recorded it years ago when Mom sang in the church choir.”
They turned to see their father reach out and touch the recorder, his eyes now full of tears, a smile etched on his face.
He mouthed one word: “Jackie.”
* * *
The funeral was two days later. It was a beautiful sunny day at Fort Monroe. The breeze off the water was refreshing. The sky was streaked with the contrails of military jets taking off from the naval station across the channel.
