Puller kept his eyes on the road. “I don’t like getting played, Knox.

 

I don’t deserve that, not from you.” She tapped her toe against the floorboard.

“Meaning what?” “Meaning I would like to know why you really showed up on my

doorstep.” “I already explained that.” “No, you already told me a bullshit

story. I’d like the truth now.” She folded her arms over her chest and looked

crossly out the window. “So I guess because of what I do for a living you always

think I have a hidden agenda? That I’m never telling you the complete truth?”

“Couldn’t have summed it up better myself.” “Screw you, Puller.” “Speaking of,

your little maneuver on the bed last night? If that was your way of getting me

to trust you, it seriously failed.” She sighed. “Okay, I guess I deserved that.

And I’m sorry.” She sat up straighter. “So, Vincent DiRenzo?” Puller’s shoulders

relaxed with the change in direction of the conversation. “Had a solid career in

CID. Nothing spectacular, but no big screwups either. He returned my call this

morning and agreed to meet with us.” “You said he lives on a lake?” “Smith

Mountain Lake. I’ve been there before when I was working a case. Beautiful

place. Mountains rise up right out of the water. It’s a hydroelectric lake,” he

tacked on. “About forty miles long with more shoreline than the state of Rhode

Island. Calling it a lake doesn’t seem to do it justice.” She nodded. “Sounds

great.” “We should also talk to the local police back in Williamsburg who

handled the serial murders.” “I’ve already made calls. Waiting to hear back. And

the FBI was involved too.” He nodded. “I was hoping you could make a call about

that. You have more pull in that circle than I do.” “You expect me to make a lot

of calls,” she said sharply. “Isn’t that why you’re here? To help?” She looked