Mercy (Atlee Pine #4)(90)

“Not my point. But to show you I’m doing this in good faith, let me tell you about my family. Ken was my youngest brother. I was the oldest. I also have two sisters. My other brothers were also failures in life. They’re all dead or in prison.”

“And your sisters?”

“They left the family long ago,” Buckley replied.

“I’ve always found that women have far better judgment in certain matters than men.”

Buckley smiled, but there wasn’t much behind it. He was here to get useful information, but there were limits to what he would accept from anyone. He felt a tremor in his right hand and was somewhat surprised to see it curling in anger. But there had been a lot of anger in this place. Maybe just his being here was allowing it to percolate to the surface, supplanting what was normally his controlled and placid manner. He had truly been an angry child on that horrific night. He had worked for years to subdue those demons. He thought he had; now Buckley was not so certain.

He cleared his throat and said, “Ken had a girlfriend. He was terrible to her. A true monster. Despite my best efforts, he really never became civilized in any appreciable way. Then he ran into Mercy Pine, for let’s call the woman by her proper name. They fought. Ken eventually pulled a gun. And she, deservedly, beat him up. Later, in the hospital, he died of the injuries she inflicted on him. She probably has no idea he’s even dead.”

“So this is simply about avenging your brother? Even though, as you said, he deserved it?”

“There is nothing simple about revenge, particularly for a family member. But while it might have started out that way, it has grown into something more . . . symbolic.” He looked around. “Do you know where we are?”

“We were on a jet. We landed. I was led here. There wasn’t much opportunity for me to see anything.”

“This compound used to belong to my parents. Peter and Deborah Buckley. Are the names familiar to you?”

Blum’s eyes narrowed and understanding spread over her features. “It was over thirty years ago. Your parents headed up a group of religious zealots. But they were also involved in drugs and selling weapons. And other things. The feds came here. There was a violent confrontation. Your father was almost killed.”

“And my ‘angelic’ mother testified against him, and then abandoned her children. My father was later murdered in prison. By the way, what ‘other things’ are you referring to?”

She looked him over. “You had to be merely a child back then.”

“I was twelve.”

“Well, then, perhaps you didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

Blum hesitated. “It’s not important.”

“No, it is important if it’s about my family.”

“The FBI had a hand in the arrests and prosecutions, that’s why I remember it. I was assigned out west at the time, not too far from where this compound is located. I even assisted in some aspects of the case. It was all hands on deck because of the complexity. That’s why I remember it so well. It was a top priority for several federal agencies, including the Bureau.”

“And?”

“And your father was also charged with engaging in prostitution and human trafficking. He was selling young men and women into the sex trade. Some of them were members of his sect. I forget the name they used.”

“The Faithful. And those allegations were never proved.”

“They were proved. In court. It was one reason your father got a life sentence without parole. And maybe your mother testified against him because she felt enormous guilt about it. That’s just my speculation.”

“I meant it was not proved to my satisfaction.”

Blum said nothing to this, because she could apparently read in his features that her words would not change his opinion. It would be akin to moving a glacier with a tugboat.

Buckley eased back in his chair. “And now that I have bared my past to you, please answer my questions.”

“Agent Pine is a formidable person. An excellent agent. She has never failed on a case, to my knowledge. She is tenacious, smart, and tough.”

“And a good friend of yours. She will surely want your safe return.”

“Which, I’m sure, is a sentiment you don’t share.”

“And Mercy Pine?”

“Has been through hell and back.”

“Yes, I know something of her background. Tell me about their parents.”

“Why?”

“Knowing about the parents can tell much about the children.”

“Does that hold for you, too?” she said.

He smiled. “Are you sure you’re not an FBI agent?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I will concede that my personal history had a large impact on who I am as an adult. Now, the Pines’ parents?”

“When their mother was a teenager she was a mole for the federal government against the Mafia. That put them in danger. That danger came to fruition when Mercy was kidnapped and Agent Pine was almost killed. They were only six years old. It devastated the family.”

“The Mafia? Interesting. And where are the parents now?”

“No one knows. Agent Pine has been looking for them, too.”

“Their mother must be formidable to have worked against the Mafia at such a tender age.”