Daylight (Atlee Pine, #3)(59)

Holden-Bryant slowly lowered her glass. “What?”

“And when that failed, did you tell Bruno Vincenzo where my family was so that he could shame his brother, Ito, into coming down to Georgia to hurt my family?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” sputtered Holden-Bryant. “I have no idea what you’re blabbering on about. Who is this Bruno person?”

“Do you think I look like my mother?” Pine asked suddenly.

“What?”

“Do I look like my mother?”

Holden-Bryant hesitated for a moment and then said, “You have her height, for sure.”

She realized too late what she had just done. She sat back and said in a chagrined tone, “Well, that was neatly done, Agent Pine, I’ll give you that.”

“You saw my mother, then. Did you ever talk to her?”

“I don’t remember.”

“There’s no liability for you. Whatever exposure there was, the statute of limitations has long since passed. Being a lawyer, you know that.”

“I haven’t really thought about it, frankly. I haven’t practiced law since my first marriage.”

“So you won’t have a problem telling me about what you might have done.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I have a twin sister who may be dead or may be alive. But I need to know either way.”

This seemed to affect the woman more than Pine thought it would.

“Tell me more about that,” she said in a low voice tinged with curiosity.

And Pine did, every detail from that awful night in Andersonville. And then all that she had learned about Bruno and Ito Vincenzo.

“That is quite horrible,” Holden-Bryant finally said in a breathless gush.

“Yes, it was. So anything you can tell me would be more than I have now.”

The woman once more got out of bed. But this time not for a drink. She pulled a chair up to them and sat down. She stared at the carpeted floor as she spoke. “I loved Jack unconditionally, with everything I had. He was absolutely everything I wanted in a husband. I had planned out our wedding, our first few years of marriage together. I was a driven, independent woman, don’t get me wrong. I wanted a very high-powered legal career and I worked my ass off for it.” She paused. “But that wasn’t all I wanted. I wanted a life with Jack. I wanted children with him.” She paused again and looked around her to-die-for bedroom. “And instead I got this. And I can tell you it doesn’t come close to making up for it.” She bowed her head for a moment before looking up. She eyed Blum. “I suspected Jack was seeing someone else. A woman can just tell, you know?”

Blum nodded. “I had that happen to me. And I agree with you. There are telltale signs.”

“What did you do to validate your suspicions?” asked Pine.

“I hired a private detective and had him followed. I used a guy who worked with me on my legal cases. He was good, very good. He got details, photos, everything.”

“Of Jack with my mother?” said Pine.

“As soon as you walked in that door over there, I knew you were Amanda and Jack’s daughter. Amanda was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I could understand why Jack would fall for her. But I was also furious with him. Angry beyond belief.”

“And what did you do about that anger?” asked Pine quietly.

“I knew that Jack worked for the feds. He never talked about that work, and I never pressed him. I knew all about confidences. I exercised those in my line of work. I never talked to him about my cases.” She got up, went over to the bar, and poured herself a glass of club soda. Returning to her seat she said, “I followed the mob cases going on in New York at that time. I never repped any of the mob bosses, but from time to time I did represent some of the foot soldiers. I knew they were scum, but that was part of the challenge. And I happen to believe that everyone deserves good legal representation. But it was more than that. The bosses expected undying loyalty from the guys down below. But they never extended that same level of loyalty. They’d throw them under the bus to save their own asses. That didn’t sit well with me.”

Holden-Bryant paused and seemed poised to lapse into a sea of old memories.

“Go on,” prompted Pine.

“There was one foot soldier who came to me for legal representation in connection with the string of RICO cases going on then. His name was Amadeo Bertelli. You can’t get more Italian than that, and the guy filled every awful stereotype of the Italian mobster. He was up to his elbows in blood. He was not a man I would have spent one minute with on a personal level. But he had a story to tell and I listened to that story. And the more I listened the more things started to make sense to me.

“He had a friend who had gotten embroiled in this whole thing. The friend had tried to do the right thing but had gotten screwed by someone. He’d already been arrested but had made bail for some reason. I met with this person.”

“Bruno Vincenzo,” said Pine. “The man you just denied ever hearing of?”

“Yes. Bruno Vincenzo,” she parroted bitterly. “He was even worse than Bertelli. Just being in the same room with the guy gave me the creeps. Anyway, Vincenzo told me everything. And I mean everything. He was hoping I could work a deal with the prosecutors to put him in WITSEC. But before any of that could happen his bail was revoked, and another lawyer took over the case. Bruno ended up going to prison. And I learned he was killed in there some time later.”