Mercy said, “Your diaphragm and the aorta behind it. A blow that hard, especially if you weren’t really ready for it, could have caused you to stop breathing. And if it had damaged your aorta and it ruptured later? Like being in a car accident and you hit the steering wheel because your seat belt doesn’t work or the airbag doesn’t come out. You’d bleed out in no time. But where they hit you? That doesn’t happen.”
“I guess they wanted to keep me alive to answer their questions. And how do you know so much about that anyway?”
“I told you, I do some MMA. Strictly local junior-league stuff because I’m nearly forty pounds over the UFC’s heaviest weight class. I studied up on that stuff. A good ab wall makes all the difference. So how do you think they’re gonna contact you about Carol?”
“Maybe a note left at the hotel? But they can’t expect me to just do whatever they want me to, with no guarantee that Carol is even alive, or that they’ll let her go.”
“You said there are other agents here. You gonna tell them if you get a note?”
Pine said nothing for a moment. “I’m sure if I do, her abductors will kill Carol.”
“Then I guess it’s just you and me. Sort of like real, real old times. Sis.”
CHAPTER
64
AN AGONIZING FOUR DAYS had passed with no word from Blum or her captors. The Porsche had been recovered on a dirt road twenty miles out of town. The forensic team had gone over it without finding the prints or trace of anyone other than Pine, Blum, and Mercy, who’d had her prints taken for elimination purposes.
The APB had produced not one sighting. Because Blum was a Bureau employee, additional resources had been deployed. They had nothing to show for it.
Pine was now sitting across from McAllister and Bertrand in the hotel dining room, which had become their ad hoc operations room.
McAllister’s face and eyes showed the lack of sleep. Bertrand looked livelier, but Pine didn’t need lively, she needed results.
McAllister cast a look at Pine that made her stiffen.
“Yeah?” she said expectantly.
“I’m going to venture into speculation, speculation that might cause you some concern.”
“Fire away.”
“Could it be possible that your sister had something to do with Blum’s disappearance? By her own admission she was the last person with Blum before she disappeared. And her prints were in the car.”
“Because she was in the car. And what would be her motive?”
“Who knows? You don’t really know the woman, Pine, admit that.”
“I know her well enough. She was helping Carol try to find me. She couldn’t be working with the people who snatched me.”
“How do you know that?”
“I told you. The man who was questioning me wants my sister because he says she killed his brother. They’re not working together. He wants to kill her. They followed him to a house. They were probably spotted. They took Carol.”
McAllister shot his partner a wary glance. “Okay, so why not snatch them both if the guy really wants your sister? Why leave her and take Carol? Your sister said she was in the house where they were. Yet they just take off and leave the golden goose behind? It makes no sense.”
“McAllister, they might not have known she was even in the house. They may not have even known that Carol and Mercy had hooked up. It was a spontaneous thing. They probably spotted Carol in the Porsche. And if they’d been following us before, they would have seen me and Carol together.”
“So when they took you, they thought you were your sister?”
“That’s right. With the hair and our height she and I closely resemble each other enough for a mistaken identity to happen, particularly to a couple of strangers like the guys who grabbed me. But then they found my shield and realized their mistake.”
McAllister leaned back and rubbed a hand across his chin. “So why no word from the captors about Carol? They must want to make an exchange, don’t you think?”
“I would say yes. And I don’t know why we haven’t heard from them.”
McAllister tilted his head to eye Bertrand before turning back to Pine. “And when and if that contact comes we’ll be in the loop, right?”
“I know Bureau protocols on abduction cases, Agent McAllister,” Pine said more sharply than she probably intended.
“Knowing and acting on those protocols are two separate things,” was his lobbed response. “And I don’t want to be sitting here drinking my hundredth cup of coffee only to find out you’re playing the hand all on your own.”
“What I’m going to be doing is the best I can to make sure Carol comes back safe and sound.”
“No argument there, but you didn’t answer my question.”
“You know how these things can go down,” replied Pine.
“Let’s face facts. The odds of Blum coming back in anything other than a body bag are pretty damn low. Do you disagree?”
“Yeah, I do disagree, because I’m on the case.”
“Bravado is not going to help. But moving on to another subject: Tim Pine?”
“I already told you, I have no idea where he is.”
“Have you heard from him or your mother?”
“No.”
“Not in any way?” he said, watching her closely.
Pine, sensing a trap, said, “Meaning what, exactly? In a dream? Telepathy? On a Ouija board?”
McAllister cleared his throat, finished his coffee, and said, “Agents have talked to Jack Lineberry. He mentioned a letter that your mother had written to him. And that he had given to you?”
Pine sucked in a breath. “Right. Sorry, I didn’t think of that.”
“Can I see the letter?”
“There are no clues in it. And . . . and it’s pretty personal.”
“The whole thing is personal, Pine. And it’s the only communication that we know of from your mother after she left you. We believe that she and Tim Pine hooked up after fabricating his death.”
“Vincenzo went there to kill Tim. He defended himself and Vincenzo died. They covered it up because they saw this as a chance to finally get away from the mob. I already told you all that.”
“That may well be the case. But right now all I know for a fact is that the man in the grave was Ito Vincenzo, when your mother and Jack Lineberry lied and said it was Tim Pine. Their motivations notwithstanding, that is a crime. And as I’m sure you know, I can’t take your word for it that Tim Pine killed Vincenzo in self-defense.”
“He kidnapped my sister and almost killed me,” barked Pine. “You don’t think he would have tried to murder the man he thought was our father?”
“If the killing was justified, he has nothing to worry about. But we’re not there yet, as you also well know. If somebody could get off killing another person based on what-ifs and maybes we’d have a lot more murders and far emptier prisons.” He reached over and tapped her hand. “If you were working this case on the Bureau’s end would you do anything differently than what I’m doing? If so, I’m listening.”
Pine shut her eyes, but just for a moment, her mind whirling at warp speed, processing all of this. When she opened them she said, “I’ll get the letter for you.”
“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.