Long Road to Mercy (Atlee Pine, #1)(79)

Blum said, “When I was young, I could have seen myself happily cooking in a kitchen like this with six rug rats running around underfoot.”

Now Pine looked up. “But you did that, right?”

“Oh, I had the kids. But I didn’t have anything like this. We lived in a trailer that was about as big as this kitchen. Scott, my ex, couldn’t even afford a double-wide. He was too busy drinking his paycheck away. When he had a paycheck, that is.”

“How did you make it, then?”

“I was a good seamstress. My grandmother taught me. I made dresses for this shop in the town where we lived. I also baked cakes. And I cleaned houses when the kids were in school. I even drove a cab in my free hours. I did whatever I could to make things work and support my kids.”

“But you joined the FBI when you were still young.”

“I was married at nineteen, Special Agent Pine. I had all my kids by the time I was twenty-eight. For that span, I was considered permanently pregnant.” Before Pine could ask how that many children were possible in that period of time, Blum added, “With one set of twins.”

When Blum said the word “twins,” Pine returned to her weapon cleaning. But Blum was clearly not done.

“Then the time came when my kids were all in school and I answered an ad for an office position with the FBI. I’d never worked in an office before. Or with the government. But I wanted that job so badly.”

“Why?”

“It was prestigious. It was the F-B-I. But I didn’t know if I would get it. I had taken college courses. I had a two-year associate degree. I read voraciously. I kept up on the news, world affairs. I considered myself bright with a strong work ethic, but just lacking in opportunity.”

“Why didn’t you think you’d get the job?”

“I was certain there would be lots of women vying for it who were far better qualified than me. And, yes, back then it was all women. Men did the investigating, and women filed the papers and made the coffee.” She paused. “And the other problem was Scott was into some stuff. I mean right on the edge of the criminal side. I knew the Bureau would do a background check on me. I’d never done anything that was even close to the edge. But if they looked at Scott’s background, well, they could either conclude guilt by association, or just take the path of least resistance and go with one of a hundred other women who had no such issues.”

“But you got the job. And they had to have talked to your husband.”

“They did. And Scott did the honorable thing. He told them I had nothing to do with whatever he was involved in. And he gave me a great endorsement. As did everyone else they talked to, apparently. You know the usual adjectives: hardworking, honest, patriotic.”

“So, your ex came through in the end.”

“Not exactly.”

Pine put down her cleaning tools and gazed at the woman. “How so?”

“A week after I got the job he filed for divorce. Seems that on the side, he was seeing this rich floozy thirty years his senior. He fed her a load of garbage, and like a lot of women, unfortunately, she fell for him hook, line, and sinker. He was handsome, I’ll give him that. And charming. And an asshole, especially when he was hitting the bottle. Anyway, he went off with her and moved into her big house and drove her Jag. But because none of the money was his, I got nothing in alimony. And he could afford pennies for child support, which he was always late with, even when he bothered to pay it. During the divorce, Scott told me that he gave that great recommendation to the Bureau and took responsibility for his actions just so I could get the job and have the money to support the kiddies on my own, because he was out of there.”

“How’d you resist the urge to shoot him? Seriously?”

“It was a close call at times,” conceded Blum. “But I couldn’t leave the kids to be raised by him. They would have been seriously messed up.”

“But with all that, you said your kids aren’t close to you now. When you sacrificed everything for them.”

“The Bureau was a great job that didn’t pay very well, though the benefits were solid. So I had to work another job to make ends meet. Sometimes two other jobs. That meant I wasn’t home much with the kids. I missed important events. Proms, homecoming, sports, and one graduation. They resented that. I know that for a fact because they often told it to my face. And maybe they blamed me for their dad leaving, not that he ever spent much time with them.”

“That must have been tough.”

Blum finished her tea. “It wasn’t easy. But they’re my kids, so I love them. Regardless.”

“What happened to Scott?”

“He ran through the floozy’s money and found another one. Then he got too fat and bald to keep the racket going. Then his health failed. Last that I heard, he was in a state-run nursing home somewhere on the East Coast. He called me a few times from there.”

“To say what?”

“He was lonely. Wanted someone to talk to.”

“That was ballsy.”

“Oh, I talked to him. I mean, what does it matter now? He is the father of my kids. And he paid the price for his crappy life. He must have had me on a contacts list because I received a call about six months ago from the facility. They told me he has early onset dementia. Can’t remember anything from day to day.”