Chapter 12 Chapter Twelve

Three Drake County police officers stood side by side, looking down at their fallen colleagues.Puller watched them from the sidelines.Both are about 1.8 meters tall, two are thin and one is chubby. They were all young, and the oldest looked to be in his early thirties.Puller found an anchor tattoo on the back of one of the officers' hands. "Navy?" Puller asked. The man nodded, looked away from Wellman's body, and glanced briefly at Puller. Puller understood that his tattoos were tattooed on his hands after retiring.The military does not allow soldiers to have any tattoos on parts of the body that cannot be covered by uniforms.

"You're in the Army?" the anchor tattoo asked. "The 701st Military Police Group in Quantico, I'm from the CID." "The Marine Corps training base is there too, isn't it?" asked the chubby cop. "That's right," Puller said. "My cousin's a Marine," said Fatty. "He says the Marines are always the first ones sent to the front." "The Marines have covered us many times in the Middle East." Cole walked down the stairs. "A miner found Larry's police car on his way to work. The car was in a ravine three kilometers from here. The miner reported the crime. Our technical investigators have been sent to the scene."

Puller nodded and asked, "Then the TC guy is going to be here? I need to talk to him." "I'll tell him." Cole turned to her men. "Given what happened to Larry, we need to make sure we have two officers on guard here at all times." "Sheriff, this will seriously affect our normal duty. We are too short manpower." Anchor Tattoo said. Cole pointed to Wellman's body and said, "Maybe Larry thinks the same way, but let's see what happens to him." "Yes, Sheriff." "Also, DeVoney, I want you to get over there and guard Larry's car," Cole told him.

"Yes, Sheriff," DeVoney replied. Puller watched the cops react to their female superiors.If there's one thing West Virginia has in common with the military, it's that even in the 21st century, it's still hard for women to get things done.From the expressions of these male policemen, it can be seen that the "Mountain State①" is not yet a place where women can make full use of it. ① Mountain State (Mountain State): Another name for West Virginia. "Special Investigator Puller will help us with our investigation," Kerr said. The three male policemen looked at Puller stiffly.That didn't surprise Puller, who would still have resentment if he were replaced by one of them.

He didn't say that their goals are the same, and they are all for justice. Such obvious empty words.In fact he didn't say a word.Seriously, he has no authority to command them.He was very polite and professional.As for Cole's subordinates, leave it to her to gather them together. "Where are the crime scene records?" Puller asked, looking at Cole.She had zipped up her windbreaker jacket—Puller guessed, trying to cover the somewhat see-through T-shirt underneath, perhaps in front of her subordinates. "In my car." She fetched the records. Puller put his name on it, noting the date and time of his appearance at the scene.He carefully checked the names and identities registered in the record book.Police, including a technical investigator.The other was a doctor who had unequivocally confirmed on the scene notes that the four victims were dead in accordance with the law.

Cole gave DeVoney the exact location of Wellman's police car and sent him on his way. When she's done, Puller asks, "Has anyone been here?" They're standing on the front porch.It was dawn, and there was enough light in the early morning for Pooler to see the dark circles under Cole's eyes.She took a cigarette out of the pack.Puller covered his mouth with one hand and lowered his voice so that the police officers in the room could not hear him. "We should have a rest area in the side yard. The site survey is still going on for a while. You can smoke in the rest area, we can eat there, and put our rubbish in one place. We also need a portable toilet. "

"There are two bathrooms in the house." "No changes to the crime scene. No touching the thermostat, no using the toilet in the room, no smoking, eating, drinking or chewing tobacco in the house. What we make is mixed with the scene and will only make things more complicated." Cole put away his cigarette and folded his arms across his chest. "Okay," she said reluctantly. "The media?" Puller asked again. "We only have one weekly newspaper here. Even the nearest TV and radio stations are out of reach. So, no, there's no media interference at the moment. And I don't want to have a press conference, either. In case you’re wondering. It’s too remote to get here unless you’re specifically thinking about coming to Drake County. And at the moment, nobody in the media seems to be thinking about coming here.”

"Okay." Then, Puller hesitated to speak, and looked at her. "What's wrong?" Cole looked at him carefully, then asked. "Do you have any connection with a man named Randy Cole?" "It's my brother. What's the matter?" "I ran into him earlier." "Where did you meet?" she asked hastily. "Where I live." She tried to look disinterested, but she couldn't fool Pooler."How is he?" she asked. "What do you mean?" "I mean did he drink too much again?" "He's awake."

"Amazing." "But he said he had a terrible headache." "Yes, I know." There was anxiety in her voice. "It's been around since last year." "I told him to check it out." "I told him that too. He's not necessarily going to do what you tell him to do. In fact, he probably won't do what you say at all." "I'm going to get my tools to investigate the scene." "need my help?" "You're in charge. It's a layman's job, isn't it?" "There's no such thing as a striker in this place. If anything, Larry's death has changed things, at least for me. I've never had a man die before. Now I've lost a man." .Things changed. We all had to put our hearts and souls into it," she stressed.

"I understand. If I need help, I'll tell you." "Have you lost many comrades in arms in the Middle East?" "It's too many to lose even one," Puller replied.