The Forgotten

CHAPTER 49

Puller drove to the Gull Coast and checked in. The front-desk person was young and sleepy, or maybe just bored.

He put his gear away in his room and debated what to do next. He called Landry and told her he was on his way. He hopped into the Tahoe and twenty minutes later pulled into the garage in Destin.

It was a humid night with little breeze.

Landry met him at the garage elevator. She had changed into shorts and a tank top with sandals. She held up two bottles of beer and then eyed Sadie.

“You have a dog?”

“By default.” He explained about Sadie being Cookie’s pet.

“I can’t take her, if that’s what you’re thinking. My building is no pets.”

“No problem. I just didn’t want to leave her alone tonight.”

“Let’s do the beach walk. It’s cooler down by the water and you can fill me in on the latest.” She glanced at Sadie. “And you can walk your new dog.”

They trudged across the sand, the breakers rolling over with a growing intensity.

“Surf always this rough at night?” he asked. “Don’t you watch the news?”

“Not lately, no.”

“Tropical storm Danielle formed in the Atlantic and entered the Gulf. Don’t think it’ll strengthen much, but it’s roiling up the waters. It’ll make landfall around here at some point. They’re not exactly sure when.”

The beach was mostly empty except for several young men stumbling along, beer cans in hand.

Puller spent a few minutes filling Landry in on the details of Cookie’s death as Sadie walked dutifully next to him, occasionally looking up. The animal must have been confused as hell, thought Puller, because it had a far longer way to look up than it had with Cookie.

“What the hell do you think is going on, Puller?” asked Landry after he’d finished.

He shrugged. “If people knew something they’re being silenced quite efficiently.”

“If they knew what?”

He shrugged again. “If I knew that I’d know it all.”

He glanced at her as they walked along sipping their beers.

Sadie tugged and jerked on the leash, but she was so small that Puller barely noticed. It was like walking a cricket.

The cold beer made Puller feel warm, warmer than the air around him. The waves crashing with tidal regularity made him more relaxed than he normally would have been, particularly after what had happened to Cookie.

He caught her gazing at him. “You want to go back up to my apartment?” she asked.

“Why?”

She looked down. “I… We…”

Interpreting her unease Puller said, “I’d really like to, but I can’t.”

“Okay, I understand. I know I’m not a girly girl, and I carry a gun at work, but I am a woman. I do like guys.”

“And I’m sure guys like you.”

“I’ve been hit on by every man under sixty who lives around here, or at least it seems like it. And then the young punks come in from out of town and think they’re so hot, but they’re just idiots.”

“Lots of guys are idiots. I’ve been accused of being an idiot.”

She looked up at him, touched his arm. “But not with women.”

He looked down at her. “No, not with women.”

“So that makes you different. And attractive.” He was very hot now, far hotter than the air. Sweat was on his forehead. He could feel the heat pouring from Landry too. They could have been inside an oven.

He said, “We’re working a case together.”

“But you’re not on the police force. I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were.”

“I don’t think you’re Hooper’s type.”

“He doesn’t quite get that. Never stops trying.”

“I’m sure.”

“But we’re not talking about Hooper, are we?” she said.

“We have no idea where this will lead us, Cheryl. Mixing business and pleasure is never a good idea. You’re a very attractive woman and under other circumstances my answer might be different. But the conditions on the ground are what they are. I hope you can understand that.” She sighed. “I can. Look, I’m sorry I brought it up. It wasn’t professional of me.”

“We can’t be professional all of the time.”

She smiled resignedly and they resumed walking.

Puller was about to say something when the phone rang.

Landry’s, not Puller’s.

And nothing was really the same after that.