Дэвид Балдаччи - Mercy

“Thank you,” said McAllister, an edge of relief in his voice.

Pine rose and looked down at him. “If you hear anything on Carol’s whereabouts, let me know. And I’ll do likewise.”

“Thank you for finally answering my question.”

After Pine stalked off McAllister turned to his colleague.

“You stick to her like superglue, Neil.”

The younger agent nodded, rose, and headed off.

Another twenty-four hours went by with no word about Blum and no demand from her captors.

Mercy and Pine were sharing the latter’s room at the hotel.

Over lunch in their room Pine said, “Something is off. It doesn’t take this long to communicate.”

“Maybe they’re trying to put the squeeze on you. Get you uptight, hoping you make a mistake.”

Pine put down her coffee cup. Her sister was wearing a pair of her jeans that were two inches too short, and a shirt that was a little tight across her broad shoulders but rode well over the rest of her torso.

“I guess that could be. But they’re also allowing us time to come up with a plan of our own.”

“And are we coming up with a plan of our own?” asked Mercy as she put the last forkful of salad into her mouth. Pine watched with a twinge of heartbreak as her sister sopped up every last bit of salad dressing with her piece of roll before depositing it in her mouth as well. The plate looked clean enough to be used again.

Mercy caught her looking and said, “I don’t waste food.”

“Yeah, I get that. In answer to your question, it’s hard to come up with a plan when you don’t know what the other side is going to do. But McAllister has notified the FBI about the situation and they are standing ready, as are the local cops. And the APB is still out there.”

“So you think this is going to go down in Asheville?”

Pine looked at her thoughtfully. “Not necessarily.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that your using your credit card brought the people who took Carol to Asheville.”

“Meaning they put a trace on my card?”

“Yes. But they knew other things and I’m wondering where they learned — shit!”

“What?”

Pine held up a hand and made a call. She put the phone on speaker and laid it on the table between them.

Wanda Atkins sounded upset. “Agent Pine, you never called me back.”

“I know, I’m sorry, things got a little crazy. But I remember you saying you had something else to tell me? That some ‘other’ people had visited you?”

“That’s right. But first things first, did you find Mercy?”

“Yes, yes I did. And your call was very helpful. Thank you.”

“Well, that’s good. I’m glad. But that gal scared the bejesus out of me. Are you sure she’s right in the head?”

Pine glanced at Mercy with a nervous smile. “Tell me about these other people.”

“That was the other reason I called you. Two people came by asking questions about Mercy and you.”

“When was this?”

“The same day Mercy came by, only later. They just showed up on my doorstep.”

“What did they want?”

“They said Mercy had murdered somebody. They were trying to find her and convince her to turn herself in.”

“Who were they?”

“I don’t know. They didn’t give me their names. But I think they were with the police or something. They seemed very professional. And I told them that you had been by to see me. I gave them your card.”

“Who was she supposed to have murdered? Did they give you a name?”

“No, they didn’t say.”

“Was the man tall and lean, dark hair, dressed nicely, good-looking?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And the other person?”

“A woman. About your height, but leaner. Dark hair. Very pretty. Very intense. She... she...”

“She what?”

“Well, she seemed to be blaming me for what happened to Mercy. Like laying a guilt trip on me. I didn’t care for that.”

“Okay.” The woman evidently wanted a sympathetic response from Pine, but she wasn’t going to get it. “Go on.”

“And when I showed them your card the fellow asked the woman if she recognized the name, but she said she didn’t. She said something like there are thousands of female FBI agents. I asked her if she was an agent and she said no, but that she knew some.”

“So let me get this right. They didn’t give you their names. I’m assuming they didn’t have badges or credentials showing they actually were police. So why did you talk to them?”

“Well... They seemed nice and professional, like I said.”

“Wanda, I need to know everything . And I mean everything!”

“Okay, okay,” the woman said in a flustered tone. “The man paid me two thousand dollars in cash. I really didn’t have a choice. I had to take it. Me and Len barely get by what with all the medical bills. And let me tell you, Medicare and the VA don’t cover it all, not by a long shot.”

“Did you see the car they drove up in?”

“No. When I answered the door the lady pointed out that somebody had knocked down our lamppost and I guess that distracted me. I bet it was Mercy. Like I said, she scared the bejesus out of me. Said she wanted to kill me and Len.”

“I did knock it down,” said Mercy. “I did that to the lamppost so I wouldn’t do it to you .”

Wanda snapped, “Is that you, Mercy? I didn’t know you were on the call.”

“Well, I am.”

“What you did was not very nice. It’ll cost something to fix that lamppost.”

“You came into two grand because of me, so there’s that.”

Pine interjected impatiently, “Wanda, would you be able to recognize these people?”

“Yes, I think so. They both kind of, you know, stood out, so to speak.”

Pine checked her watch. “I’d like to come and see you today.”

“Why?”

“You can give us fuller details. And I want to check around the neighborhood. Somebody may have seen the people, too, and the car, and maybe gotten its license plate number. We need to find these people, and this is the only lead we have right now.”

“Why do you need to find them?’

“Because I’m pretty sure they’re the ones who kidnapped Carol Blum, the woman who was with me when we visited you.”

“Oh my God. I feel like I’ve been dropped into some damn spy movie or something.”

“Only this is real life. So you’ll be home this evening?”

“Yes. I really don’t go nowhere anymore.”

“By the way, we found Desiree. She’s in prison.”

“What! What for?”

“Keeping another little girl prisoner.”

“Christ Almighty. Hope she never gets out.”

“I’ve got some things to finish up and then we’ll head out. We can probably be there around seven this evening.”

“Are these really bad people? They seemed very nice.”

“I’ll see you around seven.”

Pine was driving the Porsche SUV the police had recovered, and her sister was riding shotgun.

In the backseat was Special Agent Neil Bertrand. He was there because Drew McAllister had insisted Pine allow him to accompany them. She had introduced Bertrand to her sister. The tall, lanky agent seemed intrigued by Mercy Pine. He had no doubt learned some of her history, but he asked no questions and rendered no judgments, for which Pine was appreciative.

The day was turning stormy with the clouds moving in and hovering dome-like over them as they passed through Chattanooga, Tennessee, on the wide asphalt strip of I-75. The wind started to buffet the SUV, and Pine gripped the wheel with both hands. The traffic was heavy; tractor-trailer rigs blew past her on both sides carrying the commerce of the country to where it needed to go.