He turned to look at her. He thought that he saw a tear glistening in her right eye, but she looked away before he could be sure.
“You’re welcome.”
She removed her hand from his arm and rose.
“We better get going. I can drive. You leave your ride here. We’ll take my truck. Tired of the police wheels right now.”
He let her walk a bit away from him before she turned back. With the sunset behind her, Sam Cole looked radiant in her dress. Puller took a moment to admire the view.
“Are you coming?”
He rose.
“I’m coming.”
CHAPTER
37
JEAN TRENT WAS DRESSED in khaki slacks, red sandals, and a matching red sleeveless blouse. She was seated in the sunroom on the western side of the house where there was no sun left to shine. She already had a cocktail in hand and asked Puller and her sister what they cared for.
Puller opted for a beer, Cole a ginger ale.
“Wow,” said Jean. “You two look like trouble for sure.”
“Sorry we’re late,” said Cole. “We got detained over a case.”
“No worries. It allowed me time to have another martini.” She glanced at Puller. “You should try one.”
Puller ignored that comment and said, “Have you heard from your husband? Did he get to where he was going?”
“He rarely calls me from the road. I’m not even sure when he’s going to be back.”
“Where’s Meghan?” asked Cole.
“Swimming laps in the pool.”
“This late?” asked Cole.
“She’s trying to work off her stomach. I tell her it’s all part of growing up, just baby fat, but the other girls call her names and she hates it.”
“I would too,” said Cole.
“Roger is large-boned and prone to weight problems. We never had that issue in our family,” Jean added, looking over at Puller, who perched on a small settee covered in green-and-purple vine fabric. “Now, if you’re any indication, height runs in your family.”
“It does,” he said.
“Father or mother?”
“Father.”
“And your mother?” asked Jean.
Puller didn’t answer. He turned away from her and looked around the room.
Jean looked at his waistband. “Do you have to carry a gun to dinner?”
“Regulation. Have to carry it with me always.”
Cole said, “Will Meghan be joining us for dinner?”
“Doubtful. She’s also starving herself.”
“Not good, sis. Young girls are prone to eating disorders.”
“I’ve talked to her until I’m blue in the face. I’ve had her seen by specialists. They wanted to put her on all these pills, but I put my foot down. We hope it’s just a phase that she’ll grow out of.”
Cole did not look convinced of this. “So it’s just the three of us for dinner, then?”
“Probably,” Jean said.
“Well, are we or aren’t we?”
“I can’t definitively answer that right now.”
“Great,” Cole said disgustedly. “Did I tell you I have enough unanswered questions in my day job? I’m going to see my niece.”
“I didn’t see a pool in the yard when we were driving up,” said Puller.
“It’s an indoor pool,” said Jean. “We’re not sun worshippers here.”
“And coal dust might turn the pool water black,” said Cole.
Her sister turned to her. “That is complete and total bullshit and you know it.”
“Do I?”
The maid arrived with their drinks and Cole took her ginger ale and handed the beer to Puller. She said, “Okay, I’m going. You two can chat about me behind my back.”
She left and Jean turned to Puller and clinked her glass against his bottle. “She’s a little intense for my taste.”
“She’s a cop. She has to be intense. And she’s a woman, so she has to be even more intense to be accepted.”
“If you say so.”
“You two are pretty different. Not in looks, but in every other way.”
“I wouldn’t disagree with that. So why were you two really late? You’re not sleeping with her already, are you?”
“Already?” he said in surprise. “She certainly doesn’t strike me as the type to sleep around.”
“I didn’t mean that. And she’s not. She’s attractive and unattached and you’re attractive and I don’t see a wedding band on that big hand of yours.”
“That doesn’t explain the ‘already’ comment.”
“Well, I think my little sister is getting a little desperate.”
Puller leaned back and took a drink of his beer. “No, we weren’t sleeping together. We were getting blown up together.”
She sat up straighter. “Excuse me?”
“Someone booby-trapped a truck at a house we were at. Came a few seconds away from not joining you for dinner tonight or any other night.”
Jean put down her glass and stared at him. “You’re joking.”
“I don’t joke about almost getting killed.”
“Why didn’t Sam mention it?”
“I don’t know. She’s your sister. You obviously know her a lot better than I do.”
She picked her glass back up but didn’t take a drink. She stared down at the olives. “I wish she had never become a cop.”
“Why?”
“It’s dangerous.”
“Lots of things are dangerous.”
“You know what I mean,” she replied in a sharp tone.
“She’s a public servant, risking her life to keep the peace. To keep the good citizens of Drake safe. I admire her.”
“And you’re a soldier, right? A public servant?”
“That comes with the job description, yes.”
“Iraq and Afghanistan?”
“Both.”
“A young man I had a crush on in high school, Ricky Daniels, joined the Army right after he graduated. He died in the first Gulf War. He was only nineteen.”
“If he had come back would you have married Roger Trent?”
She swallowed the rest of her martini. “I see no reason why that’s any of your damn business.”
“You’re absolutely right. Just making small talk until your sister comes back.”
“Well, don’t trouble yourself. About the small talk. I’m perfectly fine with my own company.”
“So why did you want me to come tonight?”
“I don’t know, actually. It just struck me as a good idea at the time. I’m an impulsive person.”
“Really? You don’t strike me as such.”
“Well, I am.”
“So tell me about the earlier death threats your husband got.”
“Why? More small talk? I told you it wasn’t necessary.”
“No, I’m wearing my investigator hat now.”
“It was stupid. Nothing to it.”
“Death threats are rarely stupid with nothing to them.”