David Baldacci - Daylight

Yet nothing will surprise me anymore.

She had called ahead and they were let in at the gate after identifying themselves. They drove up to the house and were surprised to be met by Lineberry at the front door. He was using a walker but ambling around pretty well.

“You’ve made progress,” said Blum.

“I feel much better,” said Lineberry. “I was just about to have some lunch if you’d like to join me.”

Before Pine could say anything Blum said, “Well, I’m hungry.”

They went to a glass-enclosed conservatory with views of the rear grounds where the construction crew was now framing the cottage. They were finishing the fourth wall and would probably start putting up the roof joists after that.

“I hope to never have another explosion at my house,” said Lineberry as he also looked out at the crew working away.

Lunch was served by a maid in uniform and was delicious, though Pine hardly touched hers, something noted by both Blum and Lineberry. When Lineberry gave Blum a questioning glance, she shrugged.

They finished their lunch and made their way to the library, where they had coffee in front of a crackling fire. A light rain had started to fall and it was chilly outside; the warmth from the flames felt good.

“Have you found out any more information?” said Lineberry. “You were going to Taliaferro?”

Pine said, “We found out a lot, and none of it is good or pleasant to hear.”

Lineberry looked stricken at her blunt words. Blum glanced at Pine in surprise.

“My God. Mercy, she’s not—?”

“No, she’s not dead. At least that we know.”

“What then?”

“She was held prisoner by a family in Taliaferro. Not the Atkinses I mentioned to you, but his son and daughter-in-law.”

Lineberry leaned forward and put down his cup of coffee. He looked pale and distraught.

“Did you say, ‘held prisoner’?”

“Yes. In a locked cave that I wouldn’t let a dog live in. It was filthy, terrible, appalling.”

“Agent Pine,” said Blum in a remonstrative tone. “Jack is still not well.”

Pine didn’t appear to hear her. “She was living like an animal, Jack. No one to help her. No one to save her. So she ended up saving herself.”

“How . . . how do you mean?”

“I mean, she broke out of her chains, busted down the door of her prison, and tried to flee.”

“ Tried to flee?”

“This is obviously speculation on my part, but I think that as she was escaping, Joe Atkins caught up with her. Maybe he was going to try to bring her back. Maybe he was going to kill her.”

Pine was squeezing the wooden arm of her chair so tightly that her knuckles were red and her limbs were shaking.

Blum observed this and said, “Agent Pine, are you all right?”

Again, Pine did not seem to hear her; she kept her gaze on Lineberry. “But Mercy turned the tables. She went after him. I can only imagine all the years of pent-up hatred she rightly had for him and what that couple had done to her. She beat him up, struck him so hard he had blunt force trauma to his head. She was big, taller than me, and she was strong. She would be a force to be reckoned with even if her strength hadn’t been turbocharged by her emotions. Joe Atkins was a small man. She quickly overpowered him. Took his knife . . . and . . .”

Lineberry was leaning so far out of his chair that he was in danger of toppling out of it.

“And what?” he said in a hushed voice suffused with an underlying terror.

“I think she stabbed him in the back, severed his aorta, and killed him,” finished Pine.

Lineberry fell back in his chair and started breathing heavily.

Blum grabbed a glass off the sideboard, poured out water from a pitcher, and hurriedly carried it over to Lineberry. He drank half of it down and handed it back to her, thanking her with a look, though his features were still full of horror.

Blum gave Pine an annoyed glance and sat back down.

Pine continued, “I have no idea what happened to the wife, Desiree. She has been described to us as weird, and she has been observed to be violent toward animals. I have no doubt she was cruel to a staggering degree with Mercy. She branded her, Jack. Like she was an animal.”

“Oh my God!” bellowed Lineberry.

“Agent Pine!” exclaimed Blum.

“She might have killed Desiree, too, or the bitch saw the predicament she was in and just fled on her own. She would have gone to prison for her crimes against Mercy.”

Lineberry covered his face with his hands and muttered, “My God. My God.”

“Yes, my God,” parroted Pine in a fierce voice.

Lineberry uncovered his face and stared at her, realization spreading across his features. “Is there something else? Something you haven’t told me?”

“Yes, Jack, there is. A definite something .”

There was a bite to the woman’s words that made Blum glance sharply at her.

Pine said, “I got a call from a man who used to work for Ito Vincenzo. He had given me dates for when Vincenzo had gone missing. He went back and looked at some old pay stubs he’d kept and gave it some more thought, and it turns out he was off by about a year. Ito didn’t disappear in 2001. He vanished in 2002. And Castor was able to give me the exact day that Ito didn’t show up for work.” She paused here and studied Lineberry, who stared dully back at her. But there was something in the eyes that heralded the man had a premonition about where this might be going.

“Turns out,” continued Pine, “that Castor remembered because his wife’s birthday is the day after Ito didn’t show up at the store.” She paused again. “June second.”

Blum exclaimed, “But that’s your birthday, too.”

Pine kept her gaze on Lineberry. “That’s right. And on June second, 2002, on my birthday, my father took his own life at his apartment in Virginia, not in Louisiana like my mother told me. And you were there, conveniently . And you identified the body for the police.”

Lineberry started to gum his lips, like an elderly gent with no teeth might do.

Pine leaned forward in her chair so that her face was maybe a foot from his.

“I want the truth, Jack, and I want it now,” she barked.

As though he were a snowman melting under a scorching sun, Lineberry collapsed against the upholstered chair and slumped down. He covered his face with his hands once more, but Pine pulled them away.

“Now, Jack.”

Lineberry sat up straighter, glanced at Blum, and then stared directly at Pine.

“I didn’t know the man who tried to kill your father that day was Ito Vincenzo, that I swear. And I still have no proof it was.”

“Wait a minute,” said Blum sharply. “What man who tried to kill him? I thought Tim Pine killed himself.”

Pine said, “That’s what I was always told. By my mother. And by you , Jack. And you lied to me. Just like she did.”

“What are you saying, Agent Pine?” said Blum. “You can’t mean—”

“I mean that Ito came to kill my father, and probably my mother, not knowing that they were separated. But my dad killed Ito instead. And Jack was there, not by coincidence, but by plan, and he identified my father as the dead man. And with a probable suicide and a positive ID by a close friend and later the man’s ex-wife, there would be a limited investigation.” Pine stopped speaking and seemed to marshal herself. “So now I know what happened to Ito. Now I want to know where my father is. Is he with my mother? She abandoned me while I was in college to go to him, right? He supposedly died on June second. I went back to college in July of that same year because I was competing in weightlifting. When I got back in August my mother was gone and all she left was a note saying basically nothing.” She paused, struggling mightily to retain her composure. “Their divorce was a sham, wasn’t it? They always planned on ending up together. And leaving me .”