Mercy
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 by Columbus Rose, Ltd.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Baldacci, David, author.
Title: Mercy / by David Baldacci.
Description: First Edition. | New York : GCP, 2021. | Series: Atlee pine.
Identifiers: LCCN 2021023044 | ISBN 9781538719725 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781538719701 | ISBN 9781538719695 (ebook)
Classification: LCC PS3552.A446 M47 2021 | DDC 813/.54--dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021023044
ISBNs: 978-1-5387-1972-5 (hardcover), 978-1-5387-1970-1 (large type), 978-1-5387-0735-7 (international), 978-1-5387-0610-7 (signed edition), 978-1-5387-0609-1 (BN.com signed edition), 978-1-5387-0845-3 (B&N holiday signed edition), 978-1-5387-1969-5 (ebook)
E3-20210831-DA-NF-ORI
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Discover More
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by David Baldacci
To the memory of the mighty and beloved Finnegan,
this man’s best friend.
You will always be in our hearts.
Thank you for being a wonderful part of our family for fifteen years.
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Chapter 1
INCH BY SOLID INCH, Atlee Pine watched the battered coffin being lifted to the surface from where it had rested six feet down for nearly two decades. Coffins and bodies were not supposed to be retrieved. They were supposed to stay right where they were planted, at least until a dying sun lashed out across space and bid farewell to all on earth.
But, for Pine, it was just that kind of day.
Just that kind of year, actually.
She gazed over at a black crow as it stridently cawed from its perch on the branch of a sickly pine overlooking the pierced grave. The bird seemed to think its meal was being delivered up as a boxed lunch, and the creature was getting impatient.
Well, I’m thirty years impatient, Pine thought.
Pine was an FBI special agent. Five eleven in bare feet, she possessed a muscular build from years of lifting massive amounts of weights, first for athletic glory, and currently to survive the rigorous demands of her occupation. Some agents spent careers mainly on their butts staring at computer screens or supervising agents on the streets. Pine was not one of them.
Her normal beat was in Arizona, near the Grand Canyon. It was a lot of ground to cover, and she was the only FBI agent out there. Pine preferred it that way. She hated bureaucracies and the paper pushers who lived and died by their stifling mountain of rules that got you nowhere fast. Certainly not with putting bad people away, which was really the whole point for her.
She was currently in Virginia working on something personal. This was her one shot to get things right in her life.
Next to Pine was her administrative assistant at the Bureau, Carol Blum.
Pine and Blum were searching for Pine’s twin sister, Mercy Pine, who had been abducted from their shared bedroom in Andersonville, Georgia, when the girls were just six years old. Pine had nearly been killed by the abductor, surviving by a combination of sheer luck and, Pine supposed, her absolute unwillingness to die. She hadn’t seen Mercy since. It was an incident that had destroyed the Pine family and stood as the one traumatically defining moment of her life.
They had tracked Mercy’s whereabouts to a place near Crawfordville, Georgia, in Taliaferro County, the most rural and least populated county in the state. She had been given the name Rebecca Atkins and had been kept as a prisoner until she’d escaped many years ago. Now the trail was as cold as a morgue freezer.
Joe Atkins, one of her captors, had been found murdered the day after Mercy had escaped. His wife, Desiree, had disappeared at the same time. Pine had unearthed that her sister’s kidnapper was a man named Ito Vincenzo. He was the brother of Bruno, a mobster who had held a grudge against Pine’s mother, Julia. She had acted as a mole for the government in its successful attempts to bring down several New Yor
k crime families back in the 1980s. Members of crime families did not like to be brought down. They held it against you. The Vincenzo family had certainly held it against the Pine family. At the urging of his murderous brother, Ito Vincenzo had tried to obliterate the Pines, and had largely succeeded.
The Bureau had recently put out a PSA using an image of Mercy captured at the exact moment she had broken free from her improvised prison cell. Pine had hoped that if Mercy was alive she would see the notice and come forward. That had not happened, so Pine had decided to work on a different lead.
Years ago, her mother had told Pine that her father, Tim Pine, had killed himself. Subsequently, she had learned that Tim was not her biological father. A man named Jack Lineberry was. Lineberry had been nearly killed in an attack aimed against Atlee Pine in an unrelated case. The revelation that he was her father had stunned Pine, but what she had found out recently had shocked her just as much, if not even more. That was why she was here.
I know all families are dysfunctional, but mine seems to be the undisputed world champ in that competition.
The coffin finally reached the surface and was shifted away from the hole and set on the grass. Its metal carcass was visibly damaged by water, and also by sitting in the earth all those years. She wondered how preserved the contents would be.
A forensics team hurried forward, quickly prized open the coffin, and placed the human remains in a body bag. They zipped it up and loaded it into the back of a black van, which was quickly driven away. Pine thought she knew who was in that grave. But thoughts weren’t enough, certainly not for an FBI agent, or a grieving daughter, hence the exhumation. DNA identification was as definite as it got. That would reveal who had been in the coffin, of that she was certain.
Pine had never been to this grave in rural Virginia, for the simple reason that her mother had lied to her about where her father’s supposed suicide had taken place. Her mother had also told her that her father had been cremated and his ashes scattered by her at some unknown place. All lies. But then again, it seemed everyone had lied to her about her past.
She now believed the man in the grave was none other than Ito Vincenzo. He had apparently discovered Tim Pine’s whereabouts and come to exact revenge on him. Only he had ended up being the one to die.
Pine had also been led to believe that her parents had divorced because of irreconcilable differences related to their guilt over Mercy’s disappearance. Now she knew that Tim had faked his death, and her mother had voluntarily left her remaining daughter shortly thereafter. Julia Pine had in fact joined her ex-husband, and they had vanished together.
And left me all by my lonesome. Thanks, guys. What great parents you turned out to be.
Chapter 2
PINE LOOKED AT CAROL BLUM. In her sixties, a mother of six grown children, and a longtime employee of the Bureau, Blum had become something of a surrogate mother to the federal agent, to some degree taking the place of the one who had abandoned her.
Blum stared resolutely at her boss, who had her hands shoved deep into her jeans pockets, and whose features held a frown that seemed to run out of room on her face.
“How soon will they know if it is Ito Vincenzo?” asked Blum.
“Hopefully a couple of days max. I gave them samples of his DNA.”
“How’d you get those?”
“From his son’s and grandson’s bodies. A familial match under these circumstances constitutes a slam dunk.”
“Yes, of course,” Blum said quickly. “There’s no other way a DNA connection to the Vincenzo family could be in that grave.”
They walked back to the car and drove off.
“So what now?” asked Blum.
“We have some time, since the Bureau has given us an official leave of absence.”
“It was the least they could do after you and Agent Puller solved that case in New York.”
John Puller was an Army investigator who had teamed with Pine to run to ground a blackmail operation that had reached into the highest levels of the country’s power structure. Puller had been shot in the process, but he was on his way to a full recovery.
“You were in on all that, too, Carol. And you almost lost your life because I screwed up.”
“You also saved my life.”
“After needlessly putting it in danger,” countered Pine. As she turned out of the cemetery she added, “If Mercy sees the PSA she might come in. That would be the ideal scenario.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then it could be that she’s…no longer alive.” Pine shot a glance at Blum. “I’ve accepted that possibility, Carol. A long time ago. I know Mercy was alive when she got free from the Atkinses. But a lot could have happened in between.”
Blum said, “And it doesn’t seem like the Atkinses did anything to, well, to educate her or…” Her voice trailed off and she looked uncertainly at her boss.
“Let’s just acknowledge it—she looked like a wild person,” said Pine slowly. “And I’m not sure how she could manage to function in society on her own, at least mainstream society. And people who live on the fringes with no support can be exploited.” Pine looked out the window and said dully, “The person I saw in that video…could be exploited.”
“But she was resilient and resourceful, Agent Pine. Look at how she survived the Atkinses and then outsmarted them and escaped.”
“And Joe Atkins ended up dead with a knife sticking in his back,” replied Pine.
“I already told you how I feel about that. He deserved what he got.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you, Carol. But I am saying that if Mercy did kill him, if she is violent, then the intervening years might not have been kind to her. She might have done other things.”
“You’re thinking that she could have hurt other people?”
“Or, more likely, had been a victim of violence,” Pine said.
“Which brings me back to my original question: What do we do now?”
“Her last sighting was near Crawfordville, Georgia. She got away that night, or at least it appeared she did.”
“What do you mean ‘appeared’?” asked Blum.
“Desiree Atkins has never been found. There are at least three scenarios that I can see.” Pine counted them off on her fingers. “She killed her husband and fled. Mercy killed her and fled. Or Desiree killed Mercy and fled.”
“Why would Desiree kill her husband?”
“By all accounts, she was a sadistic nut. We heard a gunshot on the video and just assumed it was Joe firing at Mercy. But what if Desiree had the gun and was doing the shooting? What if Joe tried to stop her? He gets the gun away but she stabs him.”
“So you think Joe might have wanted Mercy to get away? I just don’t see that. When the truth came out they both would have been in a great deal of trouble.”
“I’m saying it’s possible, not probable. She might have managed to kill Mercy, then Joe got nervous and wanted to call the police, so she stabbed him and fled with Mercy’s body. Only it would have been a real chore for her to lift the body into Joe’s truck. Desiree was tiny, and Mercy looked to be over six feet and probably outweighed her by seventy pounds. And they brought cadaver dogs in after we found out what happened there. There are no bodies buried anywhere in that area. So that option is out. But what if Joe helped her get rid of Mercy’s body, then got cold feet or regrets? Then Desiree plunged the knife in his back.”
Blum mulled over this. “Or, like you said, Mercy could have killed both of them. She left Joe’s body and maybe took Desiree’s remains and buried them somewhere far away.”
“It’s possible. But that would mean Mercy would have had to drive the truck.”
Blum said, “Surely she could have figured that out.”
Pine shook her head. “The truck has a manual transmission. I don’t know anybody, particularly someone who has been kept in a hellhole for years and never attempted to drive anything, who could have figured out how a clutch works. Certainly
not under such stressful conditions. And I can’t see the Atkinses having taught her.”
“So what are you saying then?”
“I’m saying, Carol, that I think it was Desiree who took off that night in the truck. But I think she went alone.”
“Because the jig was up, you mean?”
Pine nodded. “Yes. So, to answer your initial question of what to do now, I think we head back to Georgia and see if we can pick up a very, very cold trail.”
“And Jack Lineberry? Will you stop in to see him while we’re in Georgia?”
To that, Pine said nothing.
She had mixed feelings about her biological father. And their last encounter had been disastrous. She was not expecting anything better the second time around. But ultimately the fault lay with him, not her. That’s just what happened when every word out of your mouth was a lie.
Chapter 3
PINE STARED OUT THE WINDOW of the rental car at Crawfordville, in densely wooded Taliaferro County, Georgia. Here, you’d never see an assailant coming before it was too late. Thick foliage was a killer’s best friend, whether they were hunting deer or people.
They had flown into Atlanta from Virginia, rented the car, and driven here. They had already checked in with Dick Roberts. He was the retired, straight-as-an-arrow county sheriff who had helped them when they were down here the first time. It had been Roberts who, years before, had answered the 911 call and found Joe Atkins’s body. The question had always been—who’d stuck the knife blade there? Roberts also had been with Pine when they had discovered Mercy’s old prison cut into a knoll some distance away from the Atkinses’ house, and when they had found and viewed the video chronicling her sister’s escape. Roberts knew that Mercy was Pine’s sister, and that this case was personal to her.
No, it’s not just personal. I’m betting my entire professional life on finally solving this thing. There is no going back for me.
A sense of panic seized her for a moment, like a swimmer who realized they were caught in a riptide with a limited and risky way back to shore. Then she glanced out the window, drew a long, calming breath, and silently chastised herself to get a grip, that she was acting like a child.
Roberts had given them the route that the Atkinses’ truck had to have taken that night to where it was later found. They were now retracing that route. It was along a rural road; all the roads here were rural and winding and devoid, for the most part, of living things, except for the critters residing in the woods. They counted only five homes along the way. Three of them were occupied; two were abandoned. They stopped and asked their questions and found out that none of the people living here now were there during the relevant time period.