Mercy

Chapter 46

Two hours outside of Asheville, Cain pulled off the road, cut the engine, and just sat there. She rubbed her face and then rubbed it again. She felt dirty despite her shower after working out; she felt sick despite not being ill. She had come here to tear down her nemesis once and for all, only to find that her nemesis was sitting in jail.

But not before she had kidnapped another girl and held her prisoner. In her anxiety, Cain pushed against the steering wheel so hard she actually felt it start to bend. She relaxed and looked out the window. The darkness looked back at her without a trace of understanding or empathy, when, in all honesty, she was looking for both.

You have to put this behind you, El. You can’t do this anymore. You won’t make it.

But she had another dilemma. The FBI was still looking for her. She hadn’t stabbed Joe Atkins, but there was no way that Desiree would ever say that she hadn’t. She would try to take Cain down with her, that was for certain. In fact, she thought, with a sudden panic, she might use that as leverage to get a better deal on her current crimes. Trade Cain for a lighter sentence. Cain wouldn’t put anything past the woman, because literally nothing was beyond her.

So where did that leave her? Tired and clueless and just not giving a shit. With Desiree behind bars all the energy seemed to have been sucked right out of her. That was why she had decided to just leave. But now she was rethinking that decision. Cain fingered the hotel key card in her pocket. She had blown good money on her room and she hadn’t even slept there or even checked out. She decided to go back and get a good night’s sleep. In the morning she would decide what to do.

She drove back to the hotel, went up to her room, and fell into bed. At least for a few hours her troubles would no longer rule her thoughts, but they might sneak back in the form of nightmares. As she closed her eyes, Cain simply decided to chance it. Nightmares couldn’t really hurt you. It was only when you awoke from them that the real pain could come.

The next morning Carol Blum was getting worried. She had arranged to meet with Pine for an early breakfast, but Pine hadn’t shown up, which was not like her. Blum had phoned both her cell and her room and gotten no answer. She had gone to Pine’s room and knocked and also gotten no response. When she called Pine’s phone, she could hear it ringing from inside the room. Something was definitely wrong.

She rushed down to the lobby to find out if anyone had seen Pine, when two men in blue FBI windbreakers strode into the hotel looking like they owned the place.

“Agent McAllister?” she said, going over to the men and instinctively focusing on the older one.

That man was well into his forties, salt-and-pepper haired, medium height, and with a trim build and alert manner. The other was in his early thirties, tall and lanky, with a jutting chin, a high, lined forehead, and blond hair. He looked at Blum with suspicion.

The older man nodded. “I’m Special Agent Drew McAllister. And you are?”

Blum quickly explained who she was and also that Pine was apparently missing.

McAllister quickly took charge and made inquiries at the front desk. One of the attendants led them up to Pine’s room and opened the door for them. They quickly searched through the room and found that Pine’s belongings were all there, except they couldn’t find her guns.

“They might be in the room safe,” said Blum. “I know she usually stows them in there.” She opened the closet, and pointed out the safe. “It’s locked.”

“You’re probably right,” said McAllister.

“She had her shield with her when she was going back to her room last night,” Blum told them.

“Well, maybe she never made it back to her room,” said McAllister grimly. “Is your car still in the parking lot?”

“Yes, I saw it from out of my window.”

“And she didn’t contact you after you saw her last night?”

“No. I think you’re right. I don’t think she made it back to her room.”

“Anything unusual happen here last night?” asked the other agent, who had been introduced as Special Agent Neil Bertrand.

Blum glanced at him for a moment, her mind spinning rapidly. She did not want to tell the FBI about Mercy Pine having been in the hotel last night. But once they made inquiries, the agents would find out about the questions Pine had been asking the previous night.

“We were following up some leads, but nothing panned out,” she said, deciding to judiciously tell a semblance of the truth. She had been with the FBI for far too long to outright lie to two of its agents.

McAllister gave her the Bureau stare-down, which Blum handled with aplomb, having confronted it many times in the past.

“How long you been with the Bureau?” he asked coolly. When she told him, he said, “Yeah, I thought so.” He cracked a grin. “You’ve got all our numbers, right?”

“I just want to find Agent Pine.”

They went back downstairs, where McAllister and Bertrand methodically questioned the staff. They finally found one employee who was about to go off duty. He said he had seen a woman fitting Pine’s description leaving the hotel around ten that night with two men.

“Did it seem like she was being taken against her will?” asked McAllister.

“I don’t know,” said the man. “But they were real close to her. One guy actually had his arm around her waist. And she didn’t look very happy, now that I recall. But it’s not like she was screaming or anything.”

“Did you see if they got into a car?” asked Bertrand.

“No, I didn’t go outside.”

At that point McAllister called in the local police. The employee was given over to a sketch artist to provide a description of the two men. Security footage from the previous night was checked, but there was no sign of Pine on any of it. McAllister speculated that the men might not have been parked in the lot, but perhaps right in front of the hotel.

“But why would they have targeted her?” asked McAllister after they had finished with the local cops.

“I don’t know,” said Blum. She did explain about Dolores Venuti’s having been arrested, and having gone to see her in the detention facility. “Besides having enslaved a young girl, she apparently was running some sort of drug enterprise. These men might have been working for her as part of that.”

McAllister and Bertrand went to consult with the local cops about this possible lead, leaving Blum all alone in the lobby.

She walked around in a bit of a daze until she passed by the front desk. The clerk who had been on duty the previous evening walked into the lobby and spotted her.

“Ma’am?”

“Yes.”

“The guest you and your friend were looking for yesterday?”

Blum instantly tensed. “Yes?”

“She came back last night.”

“She did?”

“Yep. I recognized her. Eloise Cain. She sort of stands out. When I was driving in I saw her out jogging. When I pulled into the parking lot, she was going into the gym through the outdoor entrance.”

“Thank you so much.”

He smiled. “Hey, sorry we got off on the wrong foot. Where’s your agent friend?”

“I wish I knew,” said Blum. “How do I get to the gym?”

Praying with every step, Blum found the gym and approached the door. She peeked through the window and saw a very tall woman in a tank top and sweatpants lifting a stack of weights on the universal machine. Her muscles were taut and defined, and for a moment Blum thought she was staring at her boss minus the hair.

She used the key card to access the door. When it opened El Cain looked over at her. She seemed puzzled, because Blum was clearly not dressed for working out.

Blum thought for a moment about how best to handle this. Finally, she decided, in the urgency of the moment, that the direct approach was best.

“Mercy Pine? Your twin sister, FBI Special Agent Atlee Pine, has been kidnapped from this hotel, and I need your help to find her.”