you’re in the Army you can kick everybody’s ass?”
“No. But I know I can kick your ass.”
Frank’s right hand swung, but Puller had already launched. The top of his head hit the other man flush in the face. Puller’s skull was far harder than the other man’s nose. A stunned 280-pound Frank whipsawed backward, his face bloody. Puller took hold of Frank’s left arm, windmilling it back and torquing the limb nearly to the breaking point. He slid a foot behind Frank’s left leg and the big man went straight down to the pavement. Puller had knelt along with the falling Frank, cupping his head with his free hand before it hit the ground so the man’s skull wouldn’t crack.
Puller dug the roll of quarters out of Frank’s fist, dropped it on the pavement, rose, and looked down. When Frank, who was holding his broken nose and trying to dig the blood out of his eyes with his knuckles, tried to stand, Puller put a foot on his chest and nudged him back down.
“Just stay there.” He turned to Dickie. “Go in the Crib and get a bag of ice. Do it now.” When Dickie didn’t move, Puller gave him a shove. “Now, Dickie, or I’ll throw you right through the window to speed your ass up.”
Dickie rushed off.
“You didn’t have to do that, you son of a bitch,” Frank said through his bloodied hands.
“And you didn’t have to take a swing at me with a roll of quarters.”
“I think you broke my nose.”
“I did break your nose. But it was already broken before. It goes off to the left and has the hump in the middle. Probably caught it on a face mask during a game. Doubt it was ever reset properly. And you’ve probably got a deviated septum too. Now, when they fix you up, they can make all that right.”
Dickie came back out with the ice enclosed in a small towel. When Puller looked over, everyone in the restaurant was standing at the window watching.
Dickie held out the ice to Puller.
“I don’t need it, Dickie, your bud there does.”
Frank took the ice and held it against his nose.
“What in the hell is going on here?”
Puller turned to see Sam Cole pull up in her police cruiser with the window rolled down. She was in full uniform. She parked at the curb and got out. Puller noted that her gun belt didn’t squeak.
She looked down at Frank and saw the roll of quarters. She glanced over at Dickie and then at Puller.
“You want to explain what’s going on? Did he attack you or did you attack him?”
Puller looked at Dickie and then at Frank. When neither of them seemed willing to speak, Puller said, “He slipped and broke his nose. His buddy got him some ice.”
Cole hiked her eyebrows and then glanced at Dickie. He mumbled, “That’s right.”
She looked down at Frank. “That your story too?”
Frank sat up on one elbow. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And what, a roll of quarters just fell out your pocket?”
“Shirt pocket,” said Puller. “When he fell. I heard him say something about doing his laundry. Explains the quarters.”
Cole put out her hand and helped Frank up. “You better go have that looked at.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
They slowly walked off.
“Ready to get going?” asked Puller.
“What I’m ready for is for you to tell me what really happened.”
“You saying I lied?”
“That guy didn’t slip. He looked like he’d been hit by a truck. And that roll of quarters was probably in his fist when he took a swing at you.”
“All conjecture and speculation on your part.”
“Well, here’s some firmer evidence.” She reached up and smacked him lightly on the forehead. “You have blood right there. I don’t see a cut, so it’s probably his blood. That means he took a swing and you head-butted him. I’d like to know why.”
“Misunderstanding.” Puller used his sleeve to wipe the blood off.
“About what?”
“About personal space.”
“You’re really starting to piss me off.”
“It’s not important, Cole. Small-town, insider-outsider thing. If it turns out to be more than that, you’ll be the first to know from me.”
She didn’t look convinced but also didn’t say anything.
“I thought we were meeting at the crime scene.”
“Got up early, figured you’d be here,” Cole replied.
“I had a chat with your boss.”
“Sheriff Lindemann?”
“He came into the Crib. I gave him some contact info to help with the media stuff.”
“Thanks.”
“He thinks very highly of you.”
“It’s mutual. He’s the one who gave me my chance.”
“You said you were with the state police before you came here.”
“That was his idea. He said if I had that on my résumé, nobody could stop me from carrying a badge in Drake.”
“I take it he doesn’t make the hiring decisions.”
“County Commission. All men. All men living in the nineteenth century. Barefoot and pregnant and in the kitchen just about covers their idea of a woman’s role in life.”
“I also spoke to the mailman.”
“Mailman? You mean Howard Reed?”
“Yeah, he’s in there finishing his breakfast. He said he left the package he was delivering inside the house. Dropped it in there, more likely. He said it was sent in care of the Halversons, which means it was probably addressed to the Reynoldses. Do you have it?”
Cole looked puzzled. “There was nothing like that.”
Puller gazed steadily at her. “Didn’t you wonder why the mailman was at the door in the first place?”
“He told me he was there to get a signature for something. I just assumed…” Her voice trailed off and her cheeks reddened. “I screwed up. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“But you’re saying the package wasn’t found in the house? Reed was pretty sure that’s where he dropped it.”
“Maybe that’s what they came back for night before last.”
“Yeah, but your people had all day in there. Why didn’t they find the package?”
She said, “Let’s go get an answer to that, Puller. Right now.”
CHAPTER
28
TWO COUNTY COP CARS WERE PARKED, side by side, hood to trunk, outside the two houses. The officers inside the vehicles were chatting when Cole skidded to a stop with Puller right behind in his Malibu. She slid out of the car before it even seemed to have stopped rolling and approached the twin cruisers.
“You two spend all night jawing or actually doing your job?” she snapped.
Puller walked up behind her and noted that the two cops were ones he’d never seen before, which made sense if they were pulling the graveyard shift.