things.” “And did you?” “Processing, Puller, give me a sec. I was wheels down

just an hour ago. It’s still a bit garbled in my head.” He waited until she

pulled off the highway and into the parking lot of a 7-Eleven. She put the car

in park, undid her seat belt, and said, “I need coffee. You want some?” “Okay.”

She got out, went in and bought two large coffees, came back to the car,

presented one to him, and took a sip of hers. “Are you done processing?” he

asked.

 

She nodded and sat back. “There was a lot about this case that didn’t add up.

The FBI pulling out of a serial murder case? That’s unheard of. The forensics

not being professionally done.

 

Investigators getting stonewalled. No leads at all with four women dead. And the

playing field being manipulated by so-called ‘higherups,’ which is very

convenient because it lets anonymity reign.” “Agreed on all points,” said

Puller. “Just so you know, Ted Hull got reassigned and his phone number was

given over to a woman from the Department of Agriculture, so no one could

contact him. And I’m supposed to be on a flight to Germany because I got pulled

off the case too.” “So why aren’t you on the plane?” “Because another higher-up

intervened, this time on my behalf.” “Which higher-up.” “I can’t tell you

because I was ordered not to disclose it.” “Ordered, by someone in the

military?” “This isn’t a guessing game with clues, Knox. We were discussing what

you found out?” She took another sip of coffee and he saw a vein pulsing at her

temple. He also saw her hand quiver just a bit as she set her coffee in the cup

holder. “We might have stumbled onto something so big I’m not sure I can even