David Baldacci - Daylight

“How do you mean?”

“Got called out to their place one time—oh, this was over twenty years ago if it was a day. Somebody had reported screams and such. Well, that sick woman had tied down a damn dog and was branding the thing all over. Poor cuss. I cut it loose and it went tearing away barking its head off. Wrote her up for animal cruelty, but that was about all I could do.” He snapped his fingers. “Desiree, that was her name, all right. Desiree Atkins. Anyway, I remember her looking at me with these eyes. Dead eyes, I call ’em. Nothing behind them. Chilled me to the bone—and I’m no scaredy-cat, I can tell you that. I figured it was because of her condition.”

“Her condition?” said Pine.

Realization spread over Roberts’s lean features. “Hey, maybe that’s how you got mixed up.”

“Mixed up?”

“See, it was Desiree that could never have kids. Something to do with a woman’s issue. I know old Len and Wanda wanted themselves some grandbabies, but it wasn’t to be.”

Pine glanced at Blum again. It seemed both women were jumping ahead to an awful conclusion.

Pine said, “Mr. Roberts, could the girl in the photo, Becky, could she have been maybe adopted by Joe and Desiree? I mean, at first I thought she might have been Len and Wanda’s daughter, but their ages would have been off to have a daughter that young. But Joe and Desiree would have been the right age, I’m thinking, if they were married in the eighties.”

“Well, it could be. I mean, I never heard of them having no kid, but they didn’t come into town, just like Len and Wanda didn’t.”

“But if they had a child, surely she would have gone to school,” said Blum.

Roberts shook his head. “Lots of folks homeschool their kids. They did back then and they still do today.”

“So you’re saying if Becky did live with them that maybe no one else would know?”

“It’s certainly possible. This is a big county land-wise, and there ain’t that many people that live in it. You could go for miles without seeing another house. And with all the forests and such around here, the homes are tucked away, not easy to get to and not easy to see from any road.” He eyed Pine with interest. “So where are you going with all this?”

“Apparently, in an unexpected direction. You mentioned that Joe died?”

“That’s right?”

“How?”

“Well, he was murdered.”

“What!” exclaimed Pine.

“If memory serves me correctly, this was sometime in the late spring of 2002. Fortunately, we don’t have too many murders around here, and the ones we do have tend to stick with you.”

“Were you the one to investigate it?” she asked.

“I did. Me and my senior deputy at the time.”

“Can you share any details?”

“I’ll do my best. And what I can’t tell you, they’ll have files of at the sheriff’s office.” He finished his coffee and settled back. “We got the call in the morning. Man’s body was found near a road by a guy out walking his dogs. Head bashed in and a knife sticking out of his back. It was Joe. And it was obviously a murder, all right.”

“And where was Desiree?”

“Damn good question. She vanished. Never did find her. Now, we couldn’t prove she did it. But I’m as sure of that as I am of anything. Why else would she have disappeared like that?”

“Did you find any evidence? Prints on the knife, signs of a struggle, anything back at their house? Anything to show how he got to where he died?”

“No prints on the knife. No tire marks to show a vehicle having been there. He bled out where he was found. Ground was iron hard back then. You know our good old Georgia clay. Like concrete. We went to the house. Couldn’t find Desiree. No signs of forced entry. No signs of a struggle. We checked the closet, and while there were some women’s clothes in there she might have taken some and we wouldn’t ever know it.”

“Any vehicles missing?” asked Pine.

“Joe’s pickup truck. It was found abandoned about ten miles from here. We checked it for prints. There were two sets in there: Joe’s and Desiree’s. Which was to be expected. Nobody else’s.”

“Were there any signs of a third person living with them?”

“So you’re really thinking this Becky person might have been living with Joe and Desiree?”

“I think it’s possible. She was in that photo with the Atkinses a few years before Joe died.”

“So you think they had, what, adopted her or something?”

“It could be.”

“But there’d be paperwork on that. I mean, there’s a legal process to go through,” pointed out Roberts.

“Not if you do it illegally,” countered Pine.

Roberts stiffened. “What are you we talking about here? That they were just dodging the law some, or are you saying that this girl was maybe, what, held against her will?”

“I’ll be candid with you, Mr. Roberts, because you’ve told us a lot we didn’t know.”

She proceeded to tell him about Ito Vincenzo and Len Atkins being soldiers together. The checks that she had seen payable to the Atkinses and the correspondence. And about a girl being abducted by Ito and possibly taken to the Atkinses. She didn’t tell him that the girl was her twin sister.

He said slowly, “So let me just get this all straight. You thought this Ito character kidnapped this girl to give her to Atkins because Atkins saved his life in Nam. Only the child didn’t end up going to Len, but to his son and Desiree?”

“That’s right. Vincenzo might not have known that. All the info I found had the checks being made out to Len Atkins. Now, he might have given the money to his son, if Joe actually had the girl and was caring for her.”

“And the FBI is involved because kidnapping is a federal crime?”

“Right,” said Pine, with a quick glance at Blum.

“But this case is really old,” pointed out Roberts.

“I’m working it as a cold case. The Bureau does that from time to time.”

“Well, I wish I could be of more help.”

“No, you’ve been a big help. One more question. Can I see where Joe and Desiree lived?”

“I suppose so. There’s a family living there now, but I know them. I can go over there with you if you want.”

“That would be great, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“I don’t have anything else to do. Retirement sounds great till you realize there’s not enough stuff to fill up your days. And it rankled me not being able to solve Joe’s murder. It cut his parents up hard.”

“Right. And they left town, but you don’t know where they moved to?”

“No, we lost touch over the years.”

“Well, if we need to, we should be able to track them down. Shall we go?”

Roberts swiped an Atlanta Falcons ball cap off the side table and stood. Peering down at Rosie, he said, “Okay, girl, no belly rubs from strangers. And hold the fort down.”

CHAPTER

73

ON THE DRIVE OVER IN PINE’S RENTAL, Roberts had phoned the couple who now lived in the house and explained what he wanted. They had readily agreed to the visit.

“They’re Pat and Hazel Simmons,” he explained. “They bought the place out of foreclosure. Got it for a song, I heard. This was obviously after Joe Atkins died and Desiree disappeared. Pat’s a long-haul trucker. They’ve got two kids, both in high school.”

“So you’re friends with them?” asked Blum.

He nodded. “We go to the same gun range and church. And we both like to hunt and fish. And there just ain’t that many people who live here. So most folks know each other. He’s a good guy.”

Later, they pulled up in front of a small house in the woods. Parked next to it was an enormous Kenworth sleeper cab tractor painted bright blue. Next to the truck was a small, red KIA crossover, and next to that a Dodge pickup with a dented front fender.