“I’ve got someone to meet.”
“Still have to drive there, right?”
She opened the passenger door of his car. Puller shook his head and climbed into the driver’s seat. They buckled up and he backed out.
“So who are you going to meet?”
“Somebody who might know something.”
“And something always leads to something else. I remember that’s your mantra.”
“My brother actually invented it. But, yeah, it’s how I think too.”
“Your mother disappeared thirty years ago.”
It wasn’t spoken as a question.
He glanced at her as they drove along. “You looked at the file?”
“Of course I did. If I’m hooking up with you I come prepared. I know better than most that you don’t like to waste time.”
“Yeah, thirty years ago.”
“You were eight years old, your brother nearly ten.”
“Right.”
“Your father was supposed to be out of the country but now we know he wasn’t. Yet he wasn’t at the house that night. The flight manifest said he was wheels down at Norfolk at one that afternoon.”
“How the hell did you score that information?” he said, his frustration clear. “I don’t even have it.”
“Doesn’t matter. That’s what the information says. The question becomes this: Your mother left the house around seven-thirty that night. Your father was thirty minutes away from your old house at one p.m. Where was he in the intervening time? There was no account of him meeting with anyone official. So where was he?”
“What do you know about this flight? How did it get so buried that no one knew until just recently? And are they certain my father was on it?”
“That remains a big question, Puller. I can tell you that I’m not satisfied by what I’ve seen so far.”
He pulled off the road and turned to her. “You know about the flight, that he didn’t meet with anyone official? And you’re not satisfied by what you’ve seen so far? How long have you been investigating this case?”
“Not that long. But I’m nothing if not efficient,” she added coolly. “And I have the credentials to get answers from people who are not used to giving them so freely.”
“I guess so,” said Puller a bit enviously.
“So why did he come back early?” she asked.
Puller took the envelope from his pocket and handed it across to her. Then he pulled back onto the road.
She unfolded the letter inside and read it twice over.
“Did your father read this?”
“I don’t know for certain. I know he had it.”
“She wanted to work things out.”
“Which means he had no motive to kill her.”
“Well, we don’t know that for sure,” replied Knox. “And she says she wanted to go away for a bit with you and your brother. I bet your father was not happy about that.”
“I’m sure he wasn’t.”
“And there could have been another reason.”
“Like what?”
“The old story. Another woman?”
“My father did have a mistress.”
She jerked and shot him a look. “What!”
“It was called the United States Army. He barely had time for his family, much less another woman in his life. But it would be nice to know why he came back early and didn’t tell anyone.”
“We’ll have to dig into that. By the way, where are we going?”
“To see a priest.”
She looked startled. “For what?”
“I’m going to confess my sins.”
“Seriously, Puller.”
“He’s the something that might lead to something else.”
She settled back in her seat. “Okay.” She paused and then added, “I’m long overdue for a confession, actually.”
“You’re Catholic?”
She nodded. “But I won’t do it today.”
“Why not?”
“I doubt we have the time. It might take a few hours.”
He gave her a look and she added, “I never said I was an angel, Puller.”
Chapter
20
FATHER O’NEIL WAS putting hymnals in the backs of the pews when Puller and Knox walked in. Knox crossed herself as they walked up the aisle.
O’Neil walked over to them still carrying a stack of the songbooks. Puller introduced Knox to the priest.
“Very nice to meet you,” said O’Neil.
He turned to Puller. “I made inquiries, and you’re in luck. Father Rooney is still alive and he’s in the area. He’s retired now and lives with relatives in Williamsburg.” He handed Puller a piece of paper. “Here’s the address and phone number. I didn’t call. I thought it better if you did so.”
Puller said, “I really appreciate this, Father. You’ve been a big help.”
“Well, one job of a priest is to help others.” He looked around the interior of the church. “A beautiful sanctuary. I truly love being here.” He glanced at Knox. “I saw you make the sign of the cross when you came in.”
“Born and raised Catholic,” said Knox.
“Where do you attend church?”
Knox hesitated. “Mostly in my head. I’m on the road a lot.”
“There are many Catholic churches in this country.”
“But not that many in the Middle East.”
O’Neil smiled. “To which I think ‘touché’ would be the appropriate response.”
Puller said, “On the drive over, Knox was talking about taking confession. Sounded like she had saved up a lot.”
O’Neil brightened and said, “Would you like to take confession, Ms. Knox? We don’t ordinarily do it at this time of day, but I’m always glad to make an exception for a world traveler in need of a sound Catholic ritual. We don’t have formal confessionals, but we do have a private space that we can use.”
Knox gave Puller a dark look and said, “I’ll take a rain check