here?” He turned to see CID special agent Ted Hull sitting in the driver’s seat

of his Army-issued Malibu that was a clone of Puller’s. The Army bought in bulk

with not a thought to diversity of the product.

 

Indeed, in their eyes uniformity was a good thing, whether it was a soldier or a

car.

 

Puller looked back at the church and then walked over to Hull’s ride. “Just

revisiting old times.” Hull eyed him suspiciously. Puller knew he would be doing

the exact same thing if the positions were reversed. “Is that right? At Fort

Monroe, the scene of your mother’s disappearance?” Puller shrugged and leaned

closer to the window. “You’re the one who dropped this in my lap. Made me

curious. What would you do if it was you and your mother?” Hull nodded and

tapped the steering wheel with his thumbs. “Probably the exact same thing you’re

doing.” Puller straightened. “Well, okay.” “You find out anything?” Puller

leaned back down. “I’ve talked to a few people. My mother was dressed up that

night. She walked; our car was still in the driveway. The church was within

walking distance. She was devoutly religious. Maybe she came here.” “Why here?”

“If she had a problem she might come here to talk about it.” “You mean like a

confession?” “They don’t have any actual confessionals in the church, they just

do it in one of the rooms. But no, I mean like just talking to a priest.” Hull

eyed the church. “The same priest still here?” “No, but they’re trying to locate

him.” “You think it might be a viable lead?” “Since I have no others I’ll take

what I can get.” “I didn’t see any record of the CID agents talking to a priest

thirty years ago.” “They didn’t really know my mother. I did. But then again, it