Long Road to Mercy (Atlee Pine, #1)(35)

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

Then squeak, then steps.

She kept her gun trained on a certain spot across the room.

The figure appeared in the doorway and then hurried over to the couch.

The silhouette of a gun was pointed at the couch. It remained there for a few seconds, the hand holding it shaking precipitously. Then the gun was lowered, and the figure stepped back and started to turn away.

With her free hand, Pine hit the light switch.

The figure jumped back.

“Put the gun down and lie on the floor facedown with your hands over your head, fingers interlaced, and your feet spread. Do it now or I will shoot you.”

Ed Priest did exactly as Pine had ordered.

His every limb quaking, he set the pistol down, got on the floor, and put his hands behind his head, his legs spread-eagled. He started to quietly sob.

Pine rose and walked over to him, picked up the pistol and set it down on the coffee table.

She sat on the couch and looked down at the man.

“How…how did you know?” asked Priest, his cheeks wet with tears.

“You made it easy. One, you’re a really bad liar. I had training on that at the FBI. But I didn’t really need it. When I asked who had called you all those times and you said you had called them back but no one answered, you showed every sign of lying. And I called the number you gave me. It’s not in service. And then there were all the furtive glances you gave me at the IHOP. And your suitcase. That was the real giveaway.”

“My suitcase!”

“It has a CAGPT sticker on it. That stands for ‘check and give protection to.’ It’s what they do with valuable or fragile instruments. And also, it’s what they sticker a case with that has a gun inside. But I knew for certain you had a gun in there, because the airline had zip-tied it, probably at the point of destination. It’s a procedure they started to use after the Fort Lauderdale shooting. One zip tie for a pistol, two for a rifle. Yours has one, hence, a pistol. And in addition to that, your suitcase is easily small enough to be a carry-on. But you had to check it, as evidenced by the baggage claim sticker on the handle. Again, because you can’t carry a gun on a plane. So why would a seemingly mild-mannered CPA be carrying a gun with him? Except maybe to use on the first person he called when he landed in Arizona? When you quickly suggested that you might stay with me, that sort of sealed it.”

“If you knew all that, why didn’t you just arrest me?”

“Simple. You hadn’t done anything illegal. You can carry a gun in a suitcase. You can carry a concealed weapon in Arizona. I needed to see what you were going to do with it. When you made your intentions clear, so did I.” She paused. “The question is why. You are Ed Priest with the accounting practice and family and Disney World vacations and all that. You’re not some government assassin or mafia hit man.”

“So you checked on me?”

“Of course I checked on you. I don’t believe anyone unless I can verify it. Now do you want to get off the floor, sit in that chair, and tell me why you just tried to kill me?”

Priest gingerly got to his feet and plopped heavily into the chair across from her. He was still dressed in his traveling clothes.

“I was telling you the truth when I said I called the number back. But I was lying when I said no one had answered. They must have taken it out of service after they talked to me last.”

“What did they tell you?”

“That if I didn’t fly out here and kill you, my wife and my kids were dead.”

“And you believed them?”

“They also sent me photos of my wife out shopping, my kids at school. They were obviously watching them.”

Pine thought about this. Why send this guy to do the dirty deed? Whoever was behind this couldn’t come up with a pro to do the hit on me? “Why did they say I had to die?”

“Because you were investigating my brother’s disappearance.”

“And did they say why your brother had disappeared?”

Priest hesitated. “No, not really, but I knew it was serious.”

“As serious as murdering a federal agent? That can get you the death penalty.”

“My family means more to me than my own life,” barked Priest. He slowly calmed. “But I couldn’t pull the trigger. I…I guess I’m not a killer.”

“Clearly not. I was watching you.”

“So what happens to me now? Am I going to prison?”

“I saw you weren’t going to actually kill me. But when they find out you didn’t pull the trigger, they’re not going to be happy with you.”

Priest buried his face in his hands and started sobbing heavily. “Oh my God, my family. I’ve killed my family.”

“That we can take care of. I’ll have them placed in protective custody until we figure out what the hell is going on.”

Priest stopped crying and looked up at her. “You…you can do that?”

“But in return you need to help me.”

“But how? I don’t know anything.”

“You may know more than you think. And right now, you’re the best lead I have.”

“So how do we proceed?”

“I make the call to take care of your family. And though it’s nearly morning, I suggest we get some sleep. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”