CHAPTER
63
DICKIE SAT IN THE BACKSEAT of Cole’s cruiser with Puller next to him. The younger man gazed out the window, looking like he was being driven to his execution. Puller studied him, tried to absorb what he was thinking. He could have asked questions, but he didn’t. He wanted Dickie to just think about things right now. A guilty person would be building a web of lies to cover his crimes during this time. An innocent person would be anxious, afraid that his words could be twisted. He would be trying to think of the best possible way to convey his innocence. A person who was innocent in some respects and guilty in others would have a more complicated thought process. Puller pegged Dickie Strauss as squarely in that camp.
Cole called out from the front seat, “If we take you to the police station, everyone in town will know in about five seconds.”
“Could we go somewhere else, then?”
“How about my motel room?” asked Puller. “You know where that is, right? You’ve been keeping tabs on me, right?”
“Whatever,” said Dickie sullenly.
They reached the motel. Out of Dickie’s sight Puller confirmed that none of his intruder traps had been sprung, though from the look on Cole’s face he could tell that she knew what he was doing.
Dickie sat on the bed. Cole sat in a chair opposite. She’d taken off the cuffs. Puller stood, his back against the wall.
“Heard you helped Miss Louisa,” Dickie began. “That was nice of you.”
“Yeah, well she died anyway. So much for Good Samaritans. But we need to focus on you, Dickie.”
“How much of this has to come out?” he asked.
“Depends on what it is,” replied Cole. “If you killed Larry all of it will come out.”
“Like I said, I didn’t kill nobody.” Dickie’s hands were balled to fists. He looked like a little kid, albeit with a tat sleeve. Puller half expected him to drop to the floor and throw a tantrum.
“Well, you understand that we can’t just accept your word on that,” said Cole. “You have to prove it to us.”
Dickie looked up at Puller. “You ever look into my discharge?”
Puller shook his head.
“Like I said, me and the Army, we didn’t get on. But it didn’t have anything to do with my ability to do my job. I was a good soldier. There’s not one black mark against me. I would’ve stayed in for the full ride if I could have. I liked it. Liked my buddies. Wanted to serve my country. But it wasn’t my choice. They didn’t want my kind.”
Puller considered this. As he gazed at the young man’s face the answer came to him.
“Don’t ask, don’t tell,” said Puller.
Dickie’s gaze fell to the floor. He nodded.
“The military policy on gays?” said Cole, looking at Puller.
Puller said, “Under DADT you were fine so long as you keep it secret. You don’t tell, they won’t ask. But if it comes out, you’re gone.” He looked at Dickie. “What happened?”
“Somebody ratted me out. And there were some pictures of me and some of my buddies. Hell, today, it wouldn’t get five views on YouTube. But back then the Army didn’t care.”
“Your butt was gone?”
“In a second. Said if I didn’t accept the general discharge things would get real ugly.”
“I can believe that.”
“Does your father know that you’re gay?” asked Cole.
Dickie smiled bitterly. “Why do you think I joined the Army out of high school? My old man thought it would ‘cure’ me.”
“Okay, so you’re gay,” said Puller. “That’s your business and certainly no crime.”
“It is to some folks. Especially around here.”
“Well, we’re not some folks,” said Cole.
Puller said, “Let’s get back to Officer Wellman. Why were you in the house?”
“Me and Larry were friends.”
Cole sat back in her chair, her eyes widening. “You didn’t go there to… ? Larry is married with a family. And it was a damn crime scene.”
Dickie said quickly, “It wasn’t like that. We fooled around some when we were teenagers. But Larry was straight. We weren’t going in there to have sex.”
“So why did you go to the house?” demanded Cole.
Dickie nervously rubbed his palms together. Puller could see the sweat on the skin, and it wasn’t just because the motel room’s wall AC unit only managed to move hot air from one side of the room to the other.
“Just wanted to see what had happened.”
“Why?”
“Bunch of people murdered. Just wanted to see.”
“And Wellman let you in the house?” said Cole. “I don’t believe it.”
“He didn’t.”
Cole looked confused. “Then I’m not quite getting this. You want to take a breath and try it again?”
“I called him up, told him I just wanted to take a peek. I could tell he didn’t want to do it.”
Cole snapped, “Of course he didn’t. It would have cost him his job if I’d found out. Your presence there would have corrupted the crime scene.”
“But was he going to let you in?” asked Puller.
“He told me to come over. That maybe he could let me see some things they’d found. Some pictures.”
“This is unbelievable,” said Cole.
Puller held up his hand, his gaze directly on the man. “Keep talking, Dickie.”
“So I went over there.”
“And killed him?” asked Cole.
“I told you I didn’t kill him.”
“Then what happened?” said Puller.
“He wasn’t there. I mean his car was gone. I thought maybe he’d gotten sick, or gotten cold feet. But then I thought, you can’t just leave a crime scene unguarded. I watch Law & Order and NCIS. I know this stuff.”
“Sure. You’re right. Can’t do it,” said Puller. “Then what did you do?”
“I tried to call him on his cell. But he didn’t pick up.”
“What time was this exactly?” asked Puller.
“I don’t know exactly. Maybe around four or so.”
“Go on.”
“I got to the back of the house. The door there was slightly open. I opened it some more. Called out to see if Larry was in there for some reason. Got no answer. I was scared.”
“But you went in anyway. Why?” asked Puller.
“I thought Larry might be hurt. He told me to come by and then he wasn’t there. I was worried about him.”
“Bullshit. You wanted to see the bodies.”
Dickie looked up at him, scowling, but then his features relaxed. “You’re right, I did. I figured maybe Larry got called off on something else. That’s why his car was gone. Anyway, I went inside.” He stopped, his face draining of any remaining color.
“You saw them,” Puller said.
Dickie nodded slowly. “I’ll see ’em in my dreams, in my nightmares till I die.”
“Very poetic,” said Cole sarcastically.
“What did you do then?” asked Puller.
“I was going to leave. But I heard something, something from the basement.”
“What was the sound?” Puller tensed. A lot would depend on the answer.
“Like a squeak, like somebody stretching something.”
Puller eased. “Okay. What next?”
I had my knife with me. I called down the stairs. Thought it might be Larry. I didn’t want him to shoot me. No answer.”
Cole said in an incredulous tone, “So you went down into a basement in a house full of dead people in the middle of the night because you heard a sound? You know, in addition to the crime shows, you might want to take in a few movies like Halloween and Friday the 13th. You never go into the damn basement, Dickie.”
“But you went down there,” said Puller. “What happened?”
“And that’s when I saw him. Larry, just hanging there.”
“Did you make certain he was dead?” asked Cole. “Or did you just turn tail and run, leaving him there?”
“He was dead,” said Dickie. “I seen dead guys in the Army. I checked his pulse, looked at his eyes.” He paused, then forced it out. “He was dead.”
“Then what?” asked Puller.
“I got the hell out of there. I ran out the back.”
“And then just kept going?” Puller tensed again.
Dickie let out a long breath. “No. I… I stopped running. I felt like I was gonna barf. I squatted down there in the woods. Maybe ten minutes or so. Got myself together. Then I heard a car pull up. Thought it was maybe the cops. Or…”
Puller said, “Whoever killed Larry coming back?”
Dickie nodded. “If it was, I wanted to see the son of a bitch. Call the cops on him.”
“Or her,” said Cole. “It could’ve been a woman.”
Dickie pointed a finger at Puller. “But it was you. Saw you go in. Didn’t know who the hell you were. But then I saw your jacket. CID. Knew what that was. Larry told me the dead guy was Army. That explained why you were there.”
“And then?” asked Puller.
“Little while later heard another car pull up.” He pointed at Cole. “You that time. That’s when I took off.”
“And that’s when I saw you out the window,” said Puller. He looked at Cole. “Story coincides with what we know.”
She nodded and then glared at Dickie. “Would’ve been nice to know this before. I should arrest you for withholding material evidence.”
“And for just being stupid,” added Puller. “So were you and Eric friends?”
“I knew him. He was in Xanadu.” He held up his arm. “I told you I got a tat sleeve like his.”
“When you went into the Halversons’ house that night did you know that Eric and Molly were across the street dead?”
“Of course I didn’t.”
Puller let this answer hang there.
“I was worried about him, though.”
“Why?” asked Puller.
“Stuff.”
“Stuff got a name?”
Dickie shrugged. “Not that I ever heard.”
“Any reason why Eric and Molly would have wanted a soil report done?” asked Cole.
“Soil report? Nope, no reason I know of.”
“How about a meth lab?’ asked Puller. “Got any ‘stuff’ on that?”
“Eric didn’t do meth.”
“Okay, but did he make it to sell? That’s the key question.”
Dickie didn’t answer right away. “I think I need to lawyer up.”
“Think or know?” asked Puller while Cole looked at him warily.
Puller pushed off from the wall and stood next to Dickie. “Let’s look at this intelligently, Dickie. See how it affects you. Will you take a couple minutes to do that with me?”
Cole said, “Puller, he said he wanted to lawyer up—”
Puller shot her a glance and she closed her mouth. He turned back to Dickie, put a hand on his shoulder. “Just hear me out, Dickie, what do you have to lose? The Army kicked your ass out. Didn’t let you serve when I know you wanted to. This is a second chance for you to do something for your country.”
Dickie mumbled, “I’ll listen.”