Дэвид Балдаччи - Mercy

Pine told him about the grave being exhumed and awaiting confirmation that the body there was indeed Ito Vincenzo’s. She informed him of their steps to track Desiree Atkins that night, and their deduction that she had met Len and Wanda and they had helped her to flee.

“You mean the people who were in that photograph with Mercy?” said Lineberry.

“Yes.”

“Do you really think you can find them after all this time?”

“With the technology and databases available today, it’s hard to stay hidden.”

“And you’re hoping they can tell you what happened to Desiree?”

“That’s right. And if we can find Desiree she might be able to shed some light on that night and even on where Mercy might have gone.”

“She might not have any incentive to tell you,” Lineberry pointed out.

“There are ways she can be persuaded. She’s looking at prison time for what she did. And if she murdered her husband or...” Pine drew a quick breath. “She’ll talk.”

Lineberry, with an effort, sat up a little straighter. The conversation seemed to have animated him. “There’s one more thing,” he said.

Pine looked at him warily. Her real father had already thrown one curveball at her with the inheritance thing; she had no interest in another one. “Yes?”

“I know that you’ve been doing all of this searching on your dime.”

Pine’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t been expecting this. “So?”

“It’s not fair that you continue to do so. I have the resources that—”

She got his meaning. “No, Jack, this is my search for—”

“It’s mine too!” he snapped, so unexpectedly they all simply froze. Lineberry actually looked stunned that he had the energy to do it. He continued more calmly, “If you use some of my resources, you might get to the truth faster. For instance, the use of my jet to get around.”

Pine began to shake her head but Blum said, “Go on, Jack. We’re listening.” She gave Blum a glare but remained silent.

“And I know you’ve been using rental cars and the like. That is not necessary. Take the Porsche SUV. It’s just sitting in the garage doing nothing. And... and I’ve opened an account with funds in it that you have the authority to access from anywhere.” He slid open the drawer on his nightstand and took out two pieces of plastic. “One debit, one credit. There is no limit on the amount you can charge. The four-digit PIN for the debit card is your birthday, month and day.”

“Jack, I can’t take your money.”

“It’s not my money, Atlee. It’s our money. And it’s not like you’re going to be using it to go on vacation. You’re using it to find your sister and my daughter. And your mother and Tim. I presume that when you’re working as an FBI agent, the more resources you have to accomplish the job, the better. Am I wrong?”

“Well, no,” she said slowly.

“Then I don’t see what the damn problem is, do you?” he added bluntly, as though daring her to conjure a reason that would thwart his will.

Well, thought Pine, he had niftily turned the tables on her this time. She even felt a grudging pride for how he was handling this.

Meanwhile, Blum reached out and took the cards. “There is no problem, Jack. Your very generous offer of help is much appreciated. Isn’t that right, Agent Pine?”

Pine looked at her and then at Lineberry’s weary yet hopeful features, and her expression softened. “Thank you, Jack. That is very kind and very helpful.”

He sat back, obviously relieved.

Blum handed the cards to Pine, who put them in her pocket.

Lineberry said, “And if you won’t stay here, I would like you to use my place in Atlanta as a base. And you can fly in and out of there if need be on my jet. I’ll ensure that it’s ready to go at all times. I certainly won’t be using it for a while.”

“Okay, Jack,” said Pine. She glanced at Blum. “That will be fine. But we may not be staying there much. We need to go where the leads take us.”

“Understood,” he said quickly.

“But I don’t want people waiting hand and foot on us. We can take care of ourselves.”

“I thought you might say that, so I have already given the staff there three months’ fully paid leave. You’ll have the run of the place all on your own.”

“That is very generous,” said Blum.

“It’s only fair,” said Lineberry emphatically. “For everybody.”

Pine asked, “Is there anything you can remember that might provide a lead as to where my mother and Tim could have gone?”

Lineberry gazed solemnly at Pine. “In answer to that, I’m going to give you something that your mother asked me never to let you see.”

Pine sat up straight now, every muscle tensed, her adrenaline spiking to such a degree she found it difficult to form her one-word response. “W-what?”

He once more reached into the drawer and this time pulled out a gray envelope. “When you read this, I want you to keep in mind that you must do the exact opposite of what your mother writes in here.”

“When did she send it to you?” said Pine, ignoring this curious piece of advice.

“It was around the time she left you. It just turned up in my office mail one day. I had given Tim my contact information when I saw him in Virginia. The letter has no return address. But you can see that the postmark is Charleston, South Carolina. I think she might have been on her way to meet up with Tim when she sent it to me from there.”

He held out the envelope to Pine. She stared at it like it was a gun being pointed at her. Then she took it, albeit grudgingly. She looked at the handwriting on the envelope. It was clearly her mother’s.

“I... I think I’ll read this later,” Pine said in a hushed tone.

In a shaky voice Lineberry said, “I should have given it to you before now. There really is no excuse except that for a large part of my adult life I was steeped in the art of keeping secrets. It’s not an excuse, you understand. It’s just... reality. At least it was for me.”

“Does this give any indication of where they might have gone?” asked Pine.

“Not that I could find.”

“What did you mean when you said I should do the exact opposite of what she writes?”

“Now that will be clear when you read it,” said Lineberry.

Pine drove the Porsche while Blum piloted the rental to the drop-off location at the airport. After that they headed to Lineberry’s penthouse apartment in downtown Atlanta. Pine had been there before to have a drink with Lineberry, but it was the first visit for Blum.

“Oh my God,” said Blum when the private elevator opened directly into the penthouse suite’s vestibule. “This is something right out of a dream.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Pine glumly.

Blum eyed her. “Oh come on, Agent Pine. This is a lot better than the motel we stayed at last time. The heat didn’t work and the shower ran at a trickle.”

“He let us use his place in New York. Now we’re driving his Porsche and staying here, and we have the use of his private jet, and he wants to leave me all this money and—”

“Yes, I really do feel sorry for you having to face all that ,” Blum said with a look that made Pine feel about an inch tall.

Pine sighed. “I know, I know, Carol. Most people would feel like they’d won the lottery.”

“But you’re not most people,” said Blum, growing serious.

“I don’t care about stuff like that. I never have. My apartment back in Shattered Rock is perfect. I’ve got my really cool vintage Mustang convertible. It’s all I need. I’m not a private jet sort of gal.”

“That’s fine. But let’s just use what Jack has offered in order to get where we need to go as fast as possible, like he said.”