“Sorry about this,” she said.
“Like hell,” said Puller.
She pulled the trigger two quick times.
The gun fired just as it was supposed to.
Yet Puller still stood there, unharmed.
She pulled the trigger two more times.
Again, her pistol fired twice.
And again Puller simply stood there.
“No body armor,” he said. “You can take a head shot if you want.”
She did, right between the eyes.
Nothing.
She turned when she sensed him behind her. Mecho ripped the gun from her hand and bent her arm behind her back. She cried out in pain as he drove her elbow to an angle it was not designed to go.
Puller took the gun from Mecho and slid out the clip.
“I carry blanks in my duffel, as a means to fire warning shots without doing any damage. I substituted them for your live rounds when I was getting the weapons ready. And if you got your hands on another gun and tried to kill us, Diaz up there had orders to take you out. It was probably why she was nervous, killing a cop and all. Goes against her instincts, I guess. Even when the cop is dirty.”
They all looked up to see Diaz pointing her weapon directly at Landry’s head with a determined look on her features.
Landry gasped, “If you knew, why did you ask me to come out here?”
“Simple. Friends close and enemies closer.”
“I don’t understand how you could have known.”
“It’s all a matter of timing, really, Cheryl. Just timing.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’d explain now, but we’ve got a few more things on our to-do list. And you’re going to help us cross them off.”
“I’m not helping you.”
“Yes you are.”
“Go to hell.”
It only took a second, but Landry whipped her body around and slammed a knee into Mecho’s crotch. He doubled over. She grabbed the knife from his belt and was about to deliver a killing strike to the back of his neck when the blade was knocked from her hand.
She turned in time to see Puller’s fist coming at her.
That was the last thought she had before Puller slammed his fist into her jaw.
She fell to the floor, unconscious.
Puller stood over her.
“Yes you are,” he said quietly.
CHAPTER 90
They had refueled the boat and were racing back to land.
The freed captives were still on the oil platform, but a Coast Guard cutter was-despite the storm-powering toward them as fast as it could. It had enough space to take them all on board and to safety on the mainland.
Diego and Mateo had wanted to come back on the boat with them, but Puller had refused. “You’ll be much safer on a Coast Guard cutter,” he explained. “I’m not even sure we can get this tub back to Florida.”
However, the tropical storm had made landfall and quickly lost much of its energy. The ride back was bad, but not nearly as bad as the ride out had been.
On the way Puller had gotten a cell signal and managed to make one more call. Carson had gotten on the phone when the conversation started to go downhill. Puller had watched in admiration as the one-star didn’t ask the man on the other end of the line what she would like him to do. She told him what he was going to do.
“This is a national security issue, Lieutenant. And the United States Army takes those very seriously. You have your orders and I expect they will be carried out with all the dispatch and professionalism that the uniform demands. Are we clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” came the immediate reply from the lieutenant, who was probably trying hard not to allow his voice to crack.
Carson clicked off and handed the phone back to Puller.
He smiled.
She said, “What’s so funny?”
“I guess I just like seeing you being a general.”
Halfway to shore, Landry had regained consciousness. Carson piloted the boat while Puller and Mecho focused on their new prisoner. Landry’s face was bruised by Puller’s blow and she looked angry and unrepentant.
“How?” she demanded of Puller.
“Like I said, timing.”
“That means nothing to me.”
“Lampert’s car blew up.”
“So what? I didn’t do it.”
“It blew up, according to Diaz, at one-fifteen. At one-sixteen you got a phone call while I was with you on the beach. You said it was from Bullock. But there was no way it could have been. Lampert would have had to find out what the hell was going on, call the police, and track Bullock down. He’d have to hear what happened and then Bullock might start phoning people. But you weren’t on duty. You wouldn’t have been the first person he’d call. All of that would take a lot longer than a minute. And just to be sure, I checked with Bullock by phone last night. He said you’d called him that night on the drive over to Lampert’s. Not the other way around. He said you’d heard something on the news about an explosion. The call you got was from Lampert.”
Landry shook her head. “That’s not enough, Puller. There’s no way you’d make a decision like this on something so skimpy.”
“I didn’t. I started to connect the dots. Lampert is from Miami. So are you. You both arrived here around the same time. After I started thinking about the timing of the call you got, I went into detective mode and started making a lot of phone calls. Your father. You said a guy on PCP shot him down at a bar.”
“That’s what happened.”
“I know. But I talked to your former police sergeant. What I found out was from that moment forward you were a changed person. You didn’t seem to care so much about doing the right thing. It seems that instead of wanting to get the scum even more badly after your father was killed, you went the other way. You ended up just not giving a shit. And then you got into business with Lampert and things really took off.” He paused. “I also checked on your condo.
Four hundred thousand. And your mortgage is less than fifty thousand. Cops don’t make that kind of money. At least honest ones. Maybe that’s why you wanted to live in Destin. I take it you never had anybody from the police force over for drinks. It was stupid of you to have me over, Landry. It made me start thinking.”
He looked at Mecho. “The Storrows were killed by someone on the beach. Mecho was there. He saw it. More to the point, he saw you. You pumped rounds into their heads and dragged them out to the surf. You’re plenty strong enough to do that, Cheryl. All that paddle- boarding you do, it would have been easy. Two old people, they weighed nothing to you.”
Landry said nothing but she looked at Mecho with hatred.
Puller continued, “And that’s why no one answered when you called Bullock and Hooper. They were under orders from me not to. I didn’t want you to think I was suspicious about you. Just them. Bullock didn’t want to believe that you were a bad cop, but when I told him what I’d found out, he really couldn’t defend you.”
“So you say.”
Puller kept looking at her. “That stretch of beach with the sulfur. It is part of Paradise. I checked with Bullock on that too. It’s not regularly patrolled because nothing ever happens there. But he did tell me that one of his officers volunteered to check on it from time to time. Care to guess who that volunteer was?”
Landry still remained silent.
Puller drew closer to her. “And on that ‘patrol’ one night when you were really checking on the flow of slaves, you saw my aunt sitting in her Camry with a journal, observing and writing notes. She could barely walk anymore but she still wanted her independence. And she got it by driving in her specially equipped car late at night when it wasn’t so hot and humid. And she saw something one night. And she told her friends, the Storrows. They probably drove out there too and saw what my aunt had. And they came to you, Officer Landry. You patrolled their neighborhoods. They respected you. They told you what they had seen. And you pretended to take a report and then you shit-canned it.”