Long Road to Mercy Read online

  The doctor looked at Blum as Pine stood there in a flimsy hospital gown. Even in her bare feet she towered over him. And the look on her face, with the bloody bandage wrapped around her head, was of a woman who was not to be denied.

  The doctor said to Blum, “Is she serious?”

  “Well, I’ve never known her not to be. So, it’s a safe bet that you’re going to jail if you don’t do as she says, which I highly recommend that you do.”

  Twenty minutes later, Pine, fully clothed and gunned up, was striding out of the hospital with Blum next to her.

  The sun was just starting to rise.

  “How did you get the message from the office?” asked Pine.

  “I didn’t until I checked the line early this morning.”

  “How early do you check it?”

  “Four o’clock every morning. Just in case. I wish I had checked it before.”

  “There were two men,” said Pine as she took off the head bandage and dropped it into a trash can. “We were intentionally run off the road, and then a chopper landed. There were two guys in body armor with combat weapons. One of them threw a flashbang or concussion grenade and knocked me out. I’d already been hurt in the crash, so that accounts for what happened.” She looked at the sky, checking the status of the rising sun. Her watch had been damaged in the crash and her phone had run out of juice. “I must’ve been out for about eight hours.”

  She looked over at Blum. “Do you believe me?”

  “I would hope you wouldn’t have to ask that, Special Agent Pine. Of course I believe you. So the people in the chopper must have taken the two men.”

  “Or else the car that hit us came back for them. But yes, they were taken.”

  “Does this involve the dead mule case and the missing person, Ben Priest?”

  Pine nodded as they reached Blum’s light green Prius in the parking lot.

  “Only the Ben Priest that went missing wasn’t the real Ben Priest.”

  They climbed into the car and Blum started it up.

  “So where is the real Ben Priest?” Blum asked.

  “He was one of the men with me last night. He and his brother, Ed. Ed flew in from the East Coast and called me. I picked him up at an IHOP in Flagstaff and took him to my place. He tried to kill me while he thought I was sleeping.”

  Blum took this startling information in stride. “Did he indeed? How badly did you beat him up?”

  “I didn’t have to. He chickened out. He’s actually not a bad guy. His family was threatened. It was them or me. So he came out here to do the deed, then got cold feet. But through him I was able to connect with the real Ben Priest. We met last night at El Tovar. Then we got in Ben Priest’s Explorer and drove off heading south. That’s when we were attacked.”

  “That qualifies as a busy night.”

  “We need to go to the site of the crash. I need to check some things.”

  She gave Blum the directions, and about an hour later they arrived at the spot.

  There was nothing there.

  The burned-out carcass of the Explorer was gone. The tire marks on the shoulder had been tidied up and the debris field policed.

  Blum pulled off to the side of the road and they got out.

  They walked the site together.

  “They did a good job cleansing the site,” said Pine. “But not good enough.”

  She pointed to a felled tree.

  “Somebody cut this tree down last night with a chainsaw. You can see the teeth marks on the wood. Then they used the chainsaw to tear up the spot where the Explorer hit the trunk. But if you dig in there, you’re going to find the green paint and other residue from the truck.” Next, she pointed to patches of dirt along the grass shoulder. “They had to cut those out because the grass there was burned. And I’m betting that if you brought a metal detector out here, you’d find a shitload of tiny pieces from the Explorer. And when it blew up, I’m certain there are parts of it that ended up far away, and in the woods over there.”

  “Still, someone went to a lot of trouble to clean this up,” said Blum.

  “I pulled both guys from the truck. When it blew Ed got hit with a piece of shrapnel in the arm. That’s why my jacket is missing. I used it to wrap his wound.” She pointed at her shirtsleeve, where there were traces of blood. “And they missed this. It’s his blood. Some got on me when I was tending his injury.”

  “You said you called the police?”

  Pine nodded. “And I imagine they would have gotten here at some point. But there was no way they could have gotten rid of all the evidence before then.”

  “I can check on that,” said Blum. “And see what happened.” She paused as she stared around at where the attack had taken place. “You didn’t tell anyone about the imposter Ben Priest?”

  Pine glanced at her. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Because you felt something was out of sorts?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, with choppers, body armor, and soldiers carrying assault weapons and throwing flashbangs at you I can see why.”

  “This is getting weirder by the minute.”

  “Oh, I always thought it was a little weird to begin with. I mean, you don’t see a dead mule with letters carved on it every day of the week.”

  They had just arrived at the office and gone inside when Pine’s phone buzzed. She had charged it using Blum’s car charger. She did not look pleased at the name on the caller ID.

  Blum glanced at her. “Let me guess. The chain of command is calling?”

  Pine grimaced. “Yep.”

  “The only question is, how high up?” said Blum.

  “Looks to be pretty damn high,” said Pine grimly.

  CHAPTER

  23

  Clint Dobbs was the special agent in charge at the Phoenix Field Office. He was ultimately in charge of every FBI office in the state of Arizona and had a legion of agents under his command. But right now, it seemed, all his attention was focused on one, who held down the newest and only one-agent office in the entire state.

  Atlee Pine.

  “Your job as a solo agent in an RA is to do everything, Pine,” said Dobbs, his tone strident as Pine sat behind her desk listening. “But to also do everything by the book. There is no margin for error.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m aware of that, sir, and I’ve done that.”

  “Oh, so you’ve done that in this case?” he said skeptically.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then why do I have a family in Maryland in protective custody at your request, calling up the Bureau and demanding to know where their husband and father is? And that person just happens to be the brother of the man who recently went missing in the Grand Canyon? A case that you’re investigating? Now, I have talked to your direct superiors, and they have no record of being in the loop on any of that, Pine. So, would you like to reconsider your answer that you’ve done everything by the book on this sucker?”

  “The situation demanded immediate action, sir. I didn’t have time to fill everyone in. But it was going in my next report.”

  “Don’t bullshit with me. I’ve got better things to do with my time than be on a phone call with the eighth and smallest RA under my command. I expected better from you, Pine. You’ve done great things at the Agency, but crap like this can ruin a good career.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m trying to give you a friendly warning here, Pine.”

  “Yes, sir. I appreciate that, sir.”

  “I’m not sure you do. See, whatever you do wrong comes back to reflect negatively on me. That’s the price you pay for being an SAIC.”

  “Fully understand, sir.”

  “No, again, I don’t think you do, or you wouldn’t have done what you did. Do you think I’m calling you for the hell of it? I’ve actually got more important things to do. But my cell phone was ringing off the hook at five a.m. It was Washington calling. The DD himself. Hell, I guess I was surprised the director didn’t call.”
/>   “And how is the deputy director?”

  “Don’t be insubordinate, Pine. I won’t stand for that.”

  “Not my intention, sir.”

  “Anyway, the DD called me in a lather. I’m not sure I have hearing left in my right ear. I can’t have this, Pine. I really can’t. You get that?”

  “Got it, sir.”

  “And now I understand that you were involved in a car accident?”

  “I was in an accident, sir. But I’m okay. Just shaken up. They released me from the hospital and I’m back at work.”

  “Did you smash up your Bureau-issued vehicle?”

  “No, I was in another SUV, sir.”

  “And what is the status of this other vehicle?”

  “It’s no longer drivable. But that’s on my dime. I have insurance. Nothing for the Bureau to worry about, sir. I was off duty.”

  “Pray that I don’t find out differently.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And, Pine, take some time off. From what I understand, the missing person case is going nowhere. And you know as well as anyone that people go missing from the Grand Canyon all the time. Some get found, and sometimes their bodies get found. But I don’t believe it’s good use of your time or taxpayer dollars to be on this case. So far, all we really have is a dead mule. The locals can sort that out. So, take some time off, get your head straight, file your insurance paperwork, and stay the hell out of trouble. Am I clear?”

  “Could not be clearer, sir.”

  But Dobbs had already clicked off.

  Pine put down the phone and looked up when someone knocked on her door.

  Blum poked her head in. “Is the coast clear?”

  Pine nodded. “My ass was just officially kicked all the way from Phoenix.”

  “Let me guess: Clint Dobbs?” said Blum.

  Pine nodded. “The one and only.”

  “I worked for him once, way back, when he was fighting his way up the ladder. It was clear he wanted to be an SAIC, even back then. Some agents want to work the field. Others want to work from behind a desk. Dobbs was the latter.”

  Pine remained silent.

  “He was a real jerk back then. They say he’s mellowed.” Blum paused and studied Pine.

  “He basically ordered me to take time off.”

  “Are you?”

  Pine looked at Blum. “I’m an FBI agent. I’m not supposed to work outside the lines.”

  “But you’re not satisfied?”

  “I was almost killed by what appeared to be my own government. The guy in charge of the National Security Branch is on the case’s email thread. My über boss just told me the DD called up and chewed him out, with the result that I’ve been told to go take a vacation.”

  “So, the question is, do you work outside the lines or follow lockstep?”

  Pine didn’t answer right away. When she started speaking, her words came out slowly.

  “They could have easily killed me last night. I was incapacitated. But they took Ben and Ed Priest. They could have taken me, too.”

  “Why do you think they didn’t?”

  “You kill an FBI agent, you poke a hole in a hornet’s nest.”

  Blum nodded. “I found some things out while you were on the phone with Dobbs. First, the local police received your phone call but had been called off before they got to the scene. They said it was you calling back and saying it was all a mistake.”

  “What else?”

  “The stretch of road you said you were on?”

  “What about it?”

  “I called a friend of mine who’s a state trooper. Part of his beat is that area. A buddy of his was on duty last night. He saw a road crew blocking off a section of that highway.”

  “A road crew?” repeated Pine.

  “Yeah. But I know for a fact they just finished repaving that road. So what would they have been working on?”

  “They were working on getting Ben Priest away from me. And that would account for why I didn’t see any other cars.”

  She had screwed up. Meeting Priest in public had seemed the safest route. But she had underestimated whomever they were up against. Her mistake might have cost both men their lives.

  Blum interrupted her thoughts. “It takes some juice to get a road shut down, Agent Pine.”

  “Yes it does.”

  “Are you thinking that the FBI knows what’s going on? I mean that they know what happened last night, and they’re calling you off the case before you get hurt?”

  “Or before I discover the truth.”

  Blum shook her head, her features angry. “I’ve always been able to rely on the Bureau, even if I didn’t agree with everything it did. I mean, we’re the good guys.”

  “I joined the FBI to do two things: protect good people and punish bad people. Pretty simple. But that makes things black and white.”

  “And this situation is obviously not black and white,” said Blum. “So where does that leave us?”

  “I can’t work this case within normal parameters.”

  “Options are limited, then. What are we going to do?”

  “We?” Pine shot her a glance. “No, that won’t be happening. If I do this and get canned and they find out you helped me, it’s over for you, too.”

  “But I’m your secretary. It’s my job to assist you.”

  “Carol, this is not in the normal course of your job. I’m talking about going off the grid. I can’t let you go down that road with me.”

  “Why not? I’m certainly old enough to make my own decisions.”

  “But it could be career suicide for you.”

  “Well, I’ve actually been thinking about a job change. My husband divorced me so he could be with some floozy. My kids are all grown and living all over the place, except near me. I’m not really sure what to think about that, but I guess I’m at the age where I don’t let it bother me too much.”

  “What were you thinking about doing?”

  “Well, becoming a private detective. I mean, after all these decades at the Bureau, I’ve seen it all, from case files to postmortem and forensic reports. I’ve observed cases investigated well, and cases investigated deplorably. And hell, I’ve written enough reports that agents were supposed to write, to understand how things are put together. And held enough newbie agents’ hands while they tried to understand the Bureau’s eccentricities. And I listened to everything and remembered everything. And physically I’m perfect for the role. I mean look at me. No one would see me as threatening. And I can just listen and observe all I want.”

  “I’m seeing a side of you I didn’t know existed, Ms. Blum.”

  Blum gave her an incredulous look. “Well, it’s about time, Special Agent Pine. Frankly, I expected you to be a little faster on the uptake.”

  CHAPTER

  24

  Pine was combing out her hair and staring in the mirror of her bathroom.

  She had showered and washed the blood off the wound near her temple. Her head still throbbed from the impact with the truck window and the effects of the concussive device.

  She had covered the wound with a Band-Aid, and then let her dark hair cover it, and the bruising there.

  But on the other side, she lifted her hair and stared at the scar from her other wound.

  The one from long ago.

  The permanent one. Courtesy of the man who had taken her sister.

  It was dark outside now. Blum had driven Pine up to the Grand Canyon to pick up her truck, and both women had returned to the office and worked there for the rest of the day.

  Pine glanced away from the reflection of the scar on her temple, took out her phone, and studied the image on the small screen. This was the digital sketch that Jennifer Yazzie had done for her. This was the image of the missing man, the imposter Ben Priest, at least according to the recollection of Mark Brennan.

  There were facial recognition databases that the image could be run through, but if Pine accessed those platforms using her
FBI passwords, they would know what she was doing.

  And if Clint Dobbs was true to his word, she might no longer be an FBI agent. So, right now, this image, this lead, was no use to her, until she found a workaround. Which she intended to do as soon as possible.

  She put her phone down and traced the scar with her finger.

  A cracked skull had once lurked under this fissure.

  A six-year-old with a cracked skull. That was a serious thing indeed, more so since she had lain all night, bloodied, battered, and unconscious with the cracked bone and bruised brain.

  Yet Pine had never once complained about that. She had been the lucky one.

  Mercy had not.

  She wanted to know, for absolute certain, that Daniel James Tor had been the one who had taken her sister. Pine needed to know this, because it was apt to be the only closure on her sister’s disappearance that she would ever receive.

  She had just undressed to get into bed when her phone rang.

  It was Sam Kettler.

  “Sorry to call so late,” he said.

  “No, it’s fine. What’s up?”

  “Just wondering if you had time for a beer?”

  “I don’t think Tony’s is open now,” she said.

  “I know. But I’m only about twenty minutes from your place and, well, I thought you might like to hang out for a bit. It’s a nice night.”

  Pine didn’t answer. She was about to embark on a journey that might possibly be the beginning of the end of her career at the FBI.

  Talk about lousy timing.

  He said, “Hey, Atlee, it’s okay. Look, I was a knucklehead for calling out of the blue and so late, too. Don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll just—”

  “No, it’s okay. Come on over. A beer sounds good right now.”

  It actually does. And who knows when I’m going to get another chance?

  “Hey, are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you into anything, and I sort of feel that I am.”

  “You’ll come to find out that I’m sort of immune to pressure like that. But let’s drink in your Jeep. My place is sort of messy.”

  “Oh, absolutely. I wasn’t thinking of inviting myself over like that. I thought we could just sit on the steps or something.”

  She smiled. “Old-fashioned, I know.”