Mercy (Atlee Pine #4)(81)

She wondered if this place had been recently rented for the short-term, because the pool chairs, chaises, and tables around it were covered and stacked up. The place had the feel of having been shut down for the season. The Escalade had not pulled into one of the garage bays, meaning it probably didn’t belong to the place, she reasoned.

She poked her head over the top of the bush and scanned the house using her optics. She couldn’t see anyone through the windows. But then she ducked down as Marbury came into view. Mercy slowly lifted her head up once more. He was talking to someone, and in the next moment Mercy saw clearly who that was. She had never seen him before, but he seemed like someone of importance.

He was in his forties, tall and lean and very well dressed, right down to the pocket kerchief. Mercy could make all this out because the lights were on in the room and the man came to stand by the window to look out for a minute or so. The way he was talking and gesturing with Marbury made Mercy conclude that he was the boss and the lawyer the underling. She supposed lawyers always made good underlings. Mercy had had several run-ins with lawyers, and none of those occasions had turned out well for her.

But there was something familiar about the boss man, in the jaw and eyes, yet Mercy couldn’t place him. She dropped her head once more, then decided to get down on her belly and stare up from under the bush.

The man was talking while continuing to gaze out the window. Mercy didn’t like that look. It was too observant, she decided. This was a man with something on his mind. And she knew what that was: Lee Pine. He had her somewhere, maybe here; she could just feel it. They were in cahoots with Desiree somehow.

When the man moved away from the window, Mercy left her hiding place and sprinted toward the house. She planted herself against the stone wall and waited for a few moments. She had spotted a rear door that was hidden enough from view to hold possibilities.

Keeping flat against the side of the house, she reached the door. It was locked, which was not surprising. She looked toward the part of the house where the two people were and gauged it to be far enough away for her to safely attempt what she was about to.

She put one foot on the doorknob, stepped up, and grabbed hold of the home’s fa?ade, where there was enough irregularity in the stonework to provide a space for her strong fingers to grip. She did a pull-up and then brought her weight down fully on the doorknob. She felt it bend but not break. She did this same maneuver twice more, and the knob sheared off.

She dropped to the ground and looked at her handiwork. With the knob gone the inner workings of the lock were revealed. She stuck her finger in the hole and, using considerable strength, managed to move back the mechanism controlling the lock.

She gave a push and the door swung open.

The next moment she was inside and her gun was out. She surveyed the area.

Her speculation that the place had been closed down seemed to be verified by the stuffy air and the dust covers over the furniture. She quickly and quietly searched the rooms on this level. When she was done Cain listened for a few moments until she heard the footsteps overhead together with muted voices. She found the stairs and took each riser with care.

She heard more footsteps and more muted voices. She froze and waited for a bit. Mercy suddenly realized that she had no idea what her sister sounded like. She quietly slipped back down the stairs and waited at the bottom in case whoever was up there decided to leave this way.

Five minutes later and growing impatient, she made her way up and reached the door at the top of the stairs.

Mercy inched it open and peered through the crack. What she saw was an expansive space, lavishly decorated, but again with the furniture covered. She opened the door enough to squeeze through and bent low, surveying the field in front and behind her.

She started to take a step forward but then stopped. She hadn’t heard any more footsteps or voices in quite a while. She straightened and started to race forward when she heard the vehicle start up.

She made it to the window in time to see an SUV roar out from somewhere and disappear between the hedges that lined the driveway. A moment later the Escalade followed suit.

“Damn,” exclaimed Mercy. She was torn between searching the rest of the house and rejoining Blum. Finally deciding that if her sister was here, they wouldn’t leave her behind, she left the way she had come. She ran flat-out to where she had left Blum in the Porsche in the church parking lot.

Only neither the SUV nor Carol Blum were there any longer.





CHAPTER





56


PINE LEAPT OUT OF THE ANCIENT TRUCK before it even stopped in front of the hotel.

“Thank you,” she called over her shoulder.

The elderly woman tooted her horn, leaned out the window, and cried out, “Thank you, missy! Most fun I’ve had in years!”

Pine raced into the lobby and ran up to the front desk where the same woman from the night before was standing.

“My God, Agent Pine,” said the woman. “They’ve been looking everywhere for you. We thought you had been kidnapped.”

“I was but I got away.”

“You’re hurt!”

“What?”

“Your face. It’s all bruised.”

Pine touched the side of her face where she’d gotten kicked. In the spike of adrenaline during her escape, she hadn’t even remembered it or felt the pain. Now it all came rushing back to her. She rubbed her oblique where she’d been struck the first time. It was swollen and hurt like hell. Whoever had done it packed a wallop.