running the plate would have been no problem.

 

Had he just blown an incredible opportunity? Had the guy in the van been the

killer thirty years ago, checking out his dumpsites at the very same time Puller

had decided to do that too?

 

He was thinking what to do when his phone buzzed. He checked his watch.

 

Early call.

 

Puller didn’t like calls this early. They usually portended bad news, and he’d

already had enough of that lately. “Yes?” It was his lawyer friend, Shireen

Kirk. “Puller. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.” “About what?” “No, about

who.” “Then who?” he barked, his nerves frayed near their breaking point. “Your

father.”

 

Chapter 36

 

FOR A MOMENT Puller thought that his heart had stopped.

 

Instantly appearing in his mind’s eye was the image of his father in a coffin

dressed in his blues and stars, he and his brother in full dress uniform

standing off to the side while folks came to view their dad for the very last

time. “He’s…dead?” She said quickly, “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it

that way.” “What the hell is going on, Shireen?” he shouted into the phone.