Zero Day (23 page)

A
S
J
EAN
T
RENT AND
R
ANDY
C
OLE
walked into the Crib, heads at every table turned their way. Jean Trent was dressed in a short dark blue skirt, white sleeveless blouse, and three-inch heels, and her hair, despite the open-top ride in the Benz, looked lovely and her makeup was expertly applied. It was a wave of glamour pouring into the Crib that probably left everyone there, from the working class to the office dwellers, slightly lightheaded. It was as though a movie star had decided to breakfast in Drake, West Virginia.

She smiled and waved to folks at various tables. Randy had none of his cocksure manner from the night before. He slouched and studied the floor. He wore dirty jeans, a white T-shirt with an Aerosmith silkscreen, and a lousy attitude on his features.

Puller studied the pair before rising and waving to them.

“Jean? Over here. We have room.”

“For Chrissakes, Puller,” hissed Cole.

He looked down at her. “You don’t want to catch some more family time?”

Jean and Randy headed toward them. Puller got up so Jean could slide into the booth, and then he sat back down. Randy settled in beside his other sister.

Cole said, “Were you at the gravesites last night? Pretty sure I saw you.”

“Law against it?” her brother mumbled.

Jean said, “I corralled our wayward brother when I was driving into town. Convinced him a meal with his big sister wasn’t a fate worse than death.” She eyed him. “And you look like you could use
some meat on your bones,” she added. “You hardly touched your dinner last night.”

“What were you doing at the gravesite?” Cole asked.

“What were you doing there?” he shot back.

“Paying my respects.”

“So was I. You got a damn problem with that?”

“Okay. You don’t have to get all pissed off.”

He looked around. “Can we order some breakfast? I’m hungry.” He rubbed his head.

“Headaches again?” asked Puller.

“What’s it to you?” Randy snapped.

“Just asking. Maybe some food will help.”

Puller raised his hand and waved the waitress over.

After Jean and Randy ordered, Puller lifted his coffee to his lips, took a sip, and set it down. “You really look like you could use a few hours of sack time.”

Randy looked across the table at him. “Thanks for your concern.”

“No concern. Just an observation. You’re a big boy. You can take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, well tell that to my sisters here.”

“That’s what sisters do,” said Puller. “Worry. They worry about their brothers. Then when they get married they worry about their husbands.”

Cole said to her brother, “I don’t even know where you’re living. Do you even have a place to stay or are you just jumping from one friend’s place to the next?”

Randy laughed in a hollow tone. “I don’t have that many friends in Drake.”

“You used to,” said Jean.

“They’ve all grown up, got married, had kids,” said Randy.

“And you could’ve done the same,” said Jean.

Randy eyed her. “Yeah, Jean, you’re right. I could’ve married me a rich fat woman and lived happily ever after in some big house and drive around in some fancy-ass car.”

Jean didn’t even flinch. Puller figured she’d probably heard that one a million times from lots of different people.

“I don’t believe there’re any rich fat women in Drake, Randy,” she said. “And if you’re thinking of changing which side of the plate you hit from, the only rich fat guy in town is taken.”

“Don’t we all know that,” snapped her brother.

Jean smiled. “Sometimes I don’t know why I bother, I really don’t.”

“Never asked you to.”

“Oh come on, Randy. You’re laying a guilt trip on all of us. Slinking around town, never know where you are, you show up looking like shit, take some money, and then slink off again. We wait for you to call, and when you do, we make a fuss over you. You came to dinner last night only because Roger wasn’t there. And you shoot off your mouth, all your sarcastic little quips that you think are so funny. Poor Randy. I bet you just love it, don’t you? Makes up for a life that you just don’t have.”

Puller hadn’t seen that one coming, and apparently neither did Cole. She said reproachfully, “Jean!”

Puller glanced over at Randy, who never took his gaze from Jean. “Keep going, sis, I’m enjoying this.”

Jean said, “I saw him wandering down the road like a lost pup. Gave him a ride in my car. I brought him here to feed him. I’ve offered to get him work. I’ve offered to help him any way I can. And all I get back for that is shit thrown right in my face. And I’m tired of it.”

Her voice had risen steadily to where heads at other tables were turning in their direction and Puller could see folks muttering together.

Cole put a hand on Randy’s arm. “She didn’t mean that.”

Jean exclaimed, “Of course I did. And you would too, if you’d take your head out of the damn sand.”

Randy’s manner suddenly changed. The grin and the confidence came hurtling back. “Hey, Jean, does Roger pay you each time you screw him? Or does he get a volume discount? And after
he slaughtered Mom and Dad, did you charge him double to bang you? You know, to show your anger at him wiping out our parents and not giving a shit?”

Jean reached across the table and slapped her brother so hard that Puller saw her wince from the shock of the blow. Randy didn’t show any reaction, even as the skin where she had struck him turned pink and then a dull red.

“Is that the best you got?” said Randy. “All the money has really made you soft.”

He stood. “I got things to do. Hey, Jean, thanks for the ride. Or maybe you should thank Roger for me. It’s his car after all. He owns it, the house, the business and
you
.” He looked out the window at the Benz. “That model’s looking a little old, sis. Rog might be looking to trade it in. He’s gone so much, makes you wonder. Didn’t know coal men needed to fly off on their fancy jets all that much. And despite all your working out and dieting, a little too much alcohol and birthing two kids is taking its toll. Now don’t get me wrong. You’re still nice-looking. And Roger is fat and ugly. But the rules are different for men and women. They’re not fair rules, but they are the rules. And whoever has the gold makes the rules. And that would be Roger. Now you have a good day, big sister.”

Randy turned and walked away. As Puller watched he high-fived a couple of guys in one booth and then slammed the door on his way out.

He turned to Jean, who just sat there looking as stunned as she probably felt.

Cole said, “Both of you said things you didn’t mean.”

“I meant every word I said,” replied Jean. “And Randy did too,” she added quietly. She looked back out the window, at the car. Puller could see the thoughts running through her mind like frames from a film. Where was Roger right now?
Was
he thinking about trading her in?

Cole reached over and took her hand. “Jean, what Randy said was bullshit.”

“Was it?” her sister snapped.

Cole looked down.

Jean glanced at Puller. “What do you think? You’re supposed to be a great detective.”

Puller shrugged. “I can’t read people’s minds, Jean. But if your husband cheats on you then you sue his ass for divorce and end up with as much of the gold as your lawyers can get. Since you married him before he struck it rich I assume there’s no prenup.”

“None.”

“Then I wouldn’t worry about it. Best advice I can give.”

When Jean and Randy’s food came the waitress looked around and said, “Is he coming back?”

“I seriously doubt that he is,” said Jean pleasantly. “But if you can keep it warm and then wrap it for me, I’ll try to find him and give it to him.”

“Okay.” The waitress walked away.

Jean cut up her eggs and was about to say something when Puller rose.

“Going somewhere?” she asked.

“I’ll be right back.” Puller had just spotted Bill Strauss sitting at a table in the corner. He walked off.

Jean looked at Cole. “You two sleeping together yet?”

“Jean, why don’t you just shut up and eat your eggs?”

Cole wriggled out of the booth and hurried after Puller, who was already standing next to Strauss.

“Hello, Mr. Strauss. John Puller, CID, you remember me?”

Strauss nodded. He had on another expensive three-piece suit with a French-cuffed monogrammed shirt.

“Certainly, Agent Puller. How are you?”

Puller said, “Great.”

“Investigation coming along?”

“It’s coming,” said Cole, as she came to stand next to Puller.

He said, “When do you expect your boss back in town?”

“I’m not actually sure.”

“Boss doesn’t fill in his second in command?” asked Puller.

“Why do you need to know when he’ll be back?”

Puller said, “That’s really between Trent and us.” He slapped Strauss on the shoulder. “Tell your boss I said hello.”

He turned and walked back to Jean’s table. “I’ll need to talk to your husband again. Tell Roger we’ll need to see him when he gets back into town.”

She put her fork down. “Why?”

“Just give him the message. Thanks.”

He walked toward the door.

Cole laid cash down for their meals, said a hasty goodbye to Jean, and hurried after Puller. He was already outside, where he was looking at the silver Benz.

“What were you trying to do in there with Strauss?” asked Cole.

“Just getting some info. He’s the COO?”

“Chief operating officer, yeah.”

“How long?”

“Pretty much as long as Roger’s been in business.”

“Strauss is older.”

“Yeah, but Roger is more ambitious, I guess.”

“Or at least he’s more of a risk-taker.”

They started walking back to the car.

“Still heading to D.C.?”

“Yeah. No way around it.”

“Think things will start hopping here soon?”

Puller said, “Seven people have already been killed. I think it’s been hopping for a while.”

T
HEY DROVE OVER
in Cole’s cruiser to the Trent office where Molly Bitner had worked. Along the way Puller called the soil testing company in Ohio. After being transferred to two different people who could not help him, Puller motioned for Cole to pull off the road. She put the car in park and turned to him.

Into the phone Puller said, “Well, let me talk to a supervisor.” He waited another couple of minutes until the voice came on the line.

Puller explained the situation and the person on the other end responded.

“Can you tell me anything over the phone?” he asked.

Puller listened and nodded. He asked for their contact information and wrote it down in his notebook. “Okay. The court order will be coming. I’d appreciate a fast turnaround.”

He clicked off and looked at Cole.

She said, “So a court order is necessary? I didn’t think soil samples were so confidential. Could they tell you anything?”

“Only that it was Matthew Reynolds who had requested the work done. He paid by credit card. And it was some samples of organic matter that he wanted vetted. They wouldn’t tell me from where or what they found. I’ve got their information here. Can you get the paperwork going on that?”

“I’ll see the county attorney today.” She put the car back in drive and pulled back onto the road.

“It must be soil from around here, don’t you think?”

“I would assume so. But we have to know for sure.”

“And why test it?”

“Pollutants,” said Puller. “I mean, why else?”

“So that may be what this is about? Pollution?”

“Well, if they came back and killed Wellman to get the report, then yeah, I’d say that might be what this is about. It must be something really serious, though.”

“This is West Virginia, Puller. There’s a ton of ground and water pollution here already. Hell, we can’t even drink the water. People know that. You just have to look around or see the crap in the air to know it’s dirty. So I don’t see how it would be worth killing seven people to keep secret something that everyone already knows exists.”

“That’s a valid point. Let’s look at it from another angle. Has Trent had run-ins with EPA?”

“There isn’t a coal company operating in West Virginia that hasn’t had run-ins with EPA and the state regulatory folks. Coal drives the economy here, but there are limits.”

“And if you exceed those limits you can get in trouble?”

“Yes,” she conceded. “But again, is it worth killing seven people, including a police officer? If Roger had run afoul of some reg he’d have to pay a fine, which he’s done in the past. Many times. He has the money to do that. He doesn’t have to resort to murdering people.”

“What if it was more than just butchering a reg?”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me if people kept dropping dead from cancer that Trent might get run out of town on a rail. Foul water, sickness, maybe kids dying. That could crater his whole company. Cost him everything, including that big house and his private jet. Maybe he goes to prison too, if it’s shown he knew about it and did nothing. Maybe they stumbled onto something like that.”

Cole didn’t look convinced. A few miles passed before she broke the silence.

“But how would the Reynoldses be involved in that? I mean, I can understand Bitner. She worked at one of the Trent offices. Maybe she found out something. Overheard something. Saw something in a file or on a computer screen she wasn’t supposed to. But if so, why not just send in the soil sample request herself? Why use the Reynoldses?”

“Maybe she thought someone suspected her. So she used the Reynoldses as a go-between, to shield her own involvement. They’re living right across the street. Maybe they spoke, became friends of a sort. They see Matt Reynolds in his uniform. He’s official. A soldier. Works at the Pentagon. Sworn to protect his country. They think he can help with all his connections. He agrees to do it. But then someone finds out. They send in the hit team. Take both families out.”

“Lot of firepower. It’s not like Roger has teams of killers at his beck and call.”

“How do you know he doesn’t? Union and coal company battles can get pretty intense. He already has security. And Jean told me he carries a concealed weapon. Are you telling me he doesn’t have guys with guns on his payroll to handle stuff? Intimidation? Scare tactics?”

“With surface mining you don’t really have much union involvement because you don’t have miners going underground to get the coal out. So those types of battles don’t happen that much around here. In fact, the union hall closed years ago.”

“I concede it’s a theory we need to work out. Let’s hope we can find out something where Bitner used to work. And we can’t forget about the meth lab. If this is tied to drug dealers we need to know sooner rather than later.”

“The drug angle in my mind is more viable to explain all this than the coal angle. Drugs, guns, and violence just go hand in hand.”

“But that doesn’t explain the soil sample. Or the Reynoldses’ involvement. Or Wellman getting strung up.”

“My brain is starting to fry. Okay, let’s focus on what’s coming up next. How do we handle Bitner’s office? What tack do you want to take?”

“Ask broad questions and hope for equally broad answers. We keep our eyes and ears open. Anything in plain sight is fair game.”

“Well, if you’re right and the company killed all those people to keep some secret, I doubt Bitner’s office coworkers will be too forthcoming. They’re probably scared shitless.”

“Never said it would be easy.”