Daylight (Atlee Pine, #3)(110)

“Ito served in the Army with Leonard Atkins. I found out Atkins was severely wounded. He came back to the States, was discharged, and moved back to Georgia.”

Lineberry looked puzzled. “But if he was of Ito’s generation, he would be far older than would be typical for someone wanting a child Mercy’s age. I’m presuming that Ito brought Mercy to them as . . . I don’t want to say a gift, but you know what I mean.”

“You’re right. But during a battle with the North Vietnamese, Atkins saved Vincenzo’s life. That’s how he was wounded. The wound was in an area that made him . . . it caused Atkins to be unable to father children.”

Lineberry’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, I hope I’m wrong, but I see where this might be going.”

“I believe Ito kidnapped Mercy and took her to the Atkinses to repay Leonard Atkins. There was a letter from Atkins to Ito that basically said that.”

“Stealing a child to repay a debt? That is sick,” said Lineberry.

“But it may also be the truth.”

Blum said, “But why did he try to kill you? Why not just either take you both or do something less than attempted murder?”

Pine looked at the photo. “I’ve been giving that a lot of thought. From everything we’ve been able to learn about Ito, he was not a violent mobster type like his brother. But he was angry when he learned that Bruno thought he’d gotten screwed on a prison deal. And he blamed my mother. But I don’t think he was some monster. I think he was caught between a rock and a hard place. And when it came to it, I think he just wanted to take one of us. That’s why he did the nursery rhyme. Then he tried to knock me out so I couldn’t raise the alarm. But he hit me way too hard. And I nearly died.”

“But how could he have found your family in the first place?” barked an agitated Lineberry.

Pine leaned away from him. “We met up with your ex-fiancée.”

“You talked to Linda? You didn’t tell me that.”

“I’m telling you now.”

“What did she say?”

“What I thought she would.”

He shook his head. “No, there is no way. I can’t believe it.”

“She was the leak. She admitted it. She had you followed, she searched your briefcase, she overheard conversations. She met with Bruno; she found out about him through a mob buddy of his. She was even going to rep him, but another attorney took over for some reason. She steamed open a letter of yours that laid out my parents’ new identities and where they were going to live in Andersonville, and she made sure that Bruno got it. And he told his brother a sob story and guilted an otherwise law-abiding man into coming down to Georgia and turning into the devil.”

For a moment Pine thought Lineberry might faint or have a heart attack or lash out at her. There were so many emotions sweeping over his features, and his body tensed and untensed to such a degree that she grabbed his arm to make sure he didn’t slide out of the chair.

He finally put a hand to his face and quietly started to weep again.

Pine looked at Blum, who shook her head and put a hand to her lips signaling Pine just to remain quiet.

A long minute passed before Lineberry finally straightened and wiped at his eyes. Blum gave him a hand towel from a table next to the chair, while Pine poured him out a glass of water from a pitcher on the table.

He wiped his face, drank the water, and sat back in the chair, looking about a decade older than he had two minutes before. He gripped Pine’s hand.

“I am so sorry, Atlee. So sorry. This is all my fault.”

“No, it’s not, Jack. You trusted someone who abused that trust. But to be fair, I can understand her anger. You did leave her for my mother. You had two daughters with my mother.”

Lineberry passed a hand over his forehead. “I loved Linda with all my heart. Right up until the moment I met your mother. Then, for me, there was no one else. I’m not proud of what I did, but I’m just telling you the truth. If I had controlled my feelings better . . .”

“My mother was obviously attracted to you.”

Lineberry shook his head. “I was quite a bit older. I was in a position of influence over her. I was a professional who did something stunningly unprofessional. I never thought our relationship would result in pregnancy. I hated myself for having put her in that situation.”

“Did Tim know?” asked Pine.

“Please, call him your father. He was more of one to you than I ever was.”

“Okay, we sort of skirted around this issue before, but did my dad know that you were the father?”

“I never told him. And the timing of when he and your mother met was close enough that he had every reason to believe that he was the father. I don’t believe your mother ever told him differently.”

“But she loved him?”

Lineberry nodded. “She told me one night. He was her age. He was handsome and funny and just a good person. I could see why she loved him. At least now I can. But I was hurt—devastated, really.”

“If that was the case, why did you break things off with Linda? Why did you go to Andersonville? Because it was your job?”

“No, because you were my flesh and blood.” He finished his water and slowly put the glass down. “And despite what I told you earlier and how I reacted when you just now told me about Linda . . . I had suspected that the leak might well be coming from her. I knew she was smart and resourceful. I knew she might have found out about Amanda. It made me angry. And my suspicions caused me to care even less for her. And I needed to get away from her and take Amanda and her family with me, so I could watch over them. But I swear to you that I never knew Linda had found out about Andersonville.”