Mercy (Atlee Pine #4)(67)

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“FBI Special Agent Atlee Pine. Who the hell are you?”

Buckley pulled up a chair and sat down across from Pine.

“I am looking for someone named Eloise Cain. I understand that you have also been making inquiries about her. Why?”

“Answer my question first.”

“To negotiate, one must have something to negotiate with. You have nothing.”

Pine didn’t respond to this.

“We don’t seem to be getting anywhere,” said Buckley quietly.

“What’s your interest in Cain?” asked Pine.

“She killed someone.”

“Who?”

“None of your concern,” said Buckley.

“How do you know she killed the person?”

“There were multiple witnesses.”

“Why did she do it?” asked Pine.

“Again, none of your concern,” replied Buckley.

“Was it self-defense?”

“I’ve answered a number of your questions. I think it’s your turn.”

“She’s part of an investigation I’m involved in,” said Pine.

“I know about the FBI’s PSA. You’re looking for her. Her name once was Rebecca Atkins and she was from Georgia.”

“That’s right.”

“I made inquiries into the matter. There was a murder. Joe Atkins. His wife, Desiree Atkins, disappeared. Is that the FBI’s interest?”

“Yes.”

“She wasn’t their daughter. She was kidnapped by someone and brought to the Atkinses.”

“You seem to know a lot,” said Pine.

“I also know that back then her name was Mercy. What was her last name?”

Pine thought quickly. “We don’t know that yet.”

“You’re lying. If she was kidnapped, she had to have a last name and the FBI would know it. What was the last name?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“What is the exact nature of your investigation?”

“I can’t disclose that.”

Buckley nodded at Spector and flicked a finger at Pine.

Spector stepped forward, drew a breath, and drove her fist into Pine’s gut. Pine hadn’t sensed something coming and wasn’t prepared for the blow, but her rock-solid abs protected her somewhat. Still, the hard shot hurt like hell and she toppled out of the chair. One of the men lifted Pine up and slammed her back into the seat, where she pitched forward, trying not to throw up.

When she finally managed to sit up Pine gasped, “You’re in a world of trouble for kidnapping an FBI agent.”

“I agree” was Buckley’s surprising reply. “Only my men mistook you for Cain. Tall and strong looking with long dark hair was the description that I took off a copy of her driver’s license. To be fair to my people, you were coming out of her hotel room. Now we must make the best of it. I have kept you blindfolded so that we might have a peaceful resolution of this matter. You tell me what I need to know and we let you go. I have no wish to end your life unnecessarily.”

“I have nothing to tell you because I don’t know where Cain is. I’m looking for her, just like you.”

“I know she booked a room at the hotel where you were staying. Have you already met with her? Where is she?”

“I didn’t know she was at my hotel.”

“As I already pointed out, you were coming out of her room. My men confirmed the number from one of the hotel staff.”

“Okay, I did find out she was there, but only after she had left. There was no suitcase, no nothing in the room.”

“So why are you still in Asheville then? Is it this Desiree Atkins, the one who disappeared?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Pine.

“Why not?”

“She was arrested in the last twenty-four hours, and she’s in jail now, charged with some serious crimes.”

“What was she arrested for exactly?” asked Buckley.

“I choose not to tell you.”

On a sign from Buckley, Spector struck Pine another blow, this time via a spin kick to the side of her head. Perhaps fortunately for her, this time the blow knocked Pine unconscious.

Buckley looked at her lying there on the floor and then turned to one of his men.

“Find out about the woman who was arrested. I doubt it will be under the name Desiree Atkins. Do it now.”

The man hustled up the stairs, while Spector bent down to check on Pine. She felt for a pulse and was relieved it was strong. She brushed the hair out of Pine’s face and saw the large bruise forming on the side of her face.

She glanced over at Buckley.

“I didn’t mean to hit her that hard.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Buckley absently.

“Peter, she’s an FBI agent. Do you know how serious this is?”

“I look at it as an opportunity.”

Spector straightened. “What does that mean? What opportunity?”

“You know of my personal history?”

“Some, yes.”

“My father was destroyed by the federal government. They even managed to make my mother betray him.”

“Peter, I understand that—”