“At the end of the day, politicians do love the military, at least publicly, so you might have both right and might on your side there.”
“Maybe,” Puller said. “Did you find anything else about your mom and your sister?”
She took a few minutes to fill him in on what she had discovered in the box in Evie Vincenzo’s closet and also her conversation with Darren Castor, the man who had worked for Ito at the ice cream shop.
“So Ito did go down to Georgia, abducted your sister, and almost killed you. That seems to be confirmed, or as close as is possible at the moment.”
“Looks to be.”
“In revenge for his brother, Bruno?”
“It seems the case, yes.”
“And Ito told his employee that he was shocked by what he had done?”
“I don’t know if that refers to almost killing a six-year-old girl, me. Or...” Pine could not bring herself to say it: Or murdering my sister.
Puller, obviously sensing her distress, gripped her hand and said, “One thing I’ve learned over the years, you have to hope for the best, and plan for the worst. But it’s also true that until we know everything we really know nothing. There is no evidence that conclusively shows your sister was killed, correct?”
“Correct,” said Pine, finally meeting his eye after twice trying and failing. She felt her adrenaline spike and tried to hide the fact that she was taking deep breaths to keep her nerves from running away from her. The last thing she wanted to show to Puller was that she was not in control. The man would be understanding, but his confidence in her would also be lessened.
“Okay, then we have to proceed in the belief that she’s still alive.”
She said, “The odds are not with that assumption, you know that.”
“I also know how many times the facts have proved my best assumptions wrong. There are a number of things that Ito could have done with her. And from everything you’ve learned about the guy, he was not a violent criminal, not like his brother. He owned an ice cream shop.”
“Everyone I talked to pretty much described him as being nice and kind... and normal.”
Puller slowly let go of her hand. “It’s hard to kill someone, Atlee. We both know that. It’s harder still to kill a child.”
Pine touched her head where Ito had struck and shattered her skull. “He managed to nearly kill me.”
“And maybe that’s what could conceivably have saved your sister. He could have killed you, easily. But he hit you and then fled without knowing whether you were dead or not.”
Pine slowly lowered her hand.
Puller continued. “And the nursery rhyme he used, presumably to choose between you two? You asked Teddy about that to see whether it was good or bad for your sister, but his answer cut both ways.”
“Yes, it did.”
“But that could have been a guy out of his depth who’s stalling for time before he has to do something he doesn’t really want to do.”
“You’re not just trying to make me feel better?”
“I would never do that in a situation like this. That would be crueler than anything else I could think of.” He paused and fingered his beer. “The fact is, a guy going there to do what he ultimately did, why choose at all? Why not kill both of you right then and there? He took Mercy when he didn’t have to. Getting out of town with a small child? Then transporting her to some other place? What could be harder than that?”
Pine shook her head, looking unconvinced. “He wanted to make my father suffer. He got into a fight with him, accused him of attacking his own daughter and killing the other daughter.”
“But I thought it was presumably your mother Bruno had the beef with, not your father.”
“My mother was at the hospital with me. Maybe my dad was the only one he could reach at the time.”
“Maybe.”
“And then, years later, my father, probably suffering from overwhelming guilt, took his own life, on my birthday.”
“Damn, I didn’t know that,” said Puller.
“I haven’t told many people.”
He took her hand again. “I’m really, really sorry, Atlee.”
Their salads and pizza came, and they ate in silence for a few minutes.
They each ordered a second beer and took their time drinking it as the restaurant emptied out of customers.
“You like it out there in Arizona?” asked Puller.
“I like it fine.”
“Only fed for miles around?”
“No, the DEA has an office in my building. But the closest FBI agents are in Flagstaff. Then we have offices in Tucson, Lake Havasu, and of course Phoenix, among others. But for day-to-day stuff in the Grand Canyon area, it’s just me.”
“You have any support?”
“I have the best admin in the Bureau, Carol Blum. She’s traveling with me and helping me on this.” She put down her fork. “So what’s our next move?”
“I’m running Tony down and I haven’t given up on Teddy yet, either. He obviously knows stuff that’s relevant. And he may know more about Ito and where he might be.”
“How are you going to take a run at him?”
“Carefully. Like you said, the DOJ can make my life miserable.”
“I’d like to know why any other agency even cares about this.”
“It only takes one bureaucrat, Atlee.”
They paid their bill, splitting it down the middle despite Puller’s trying to pay for it all.
“It’s the least I can do, Atlee.”
“I blew your collar. I should pay for all your meals for the next month.”
“You’re the real deal, all right,” he said with a smile.
He couldn’t have paid her a higher compliment, thought Pine.
They walked outside.
“Where are you staying?” she asked.
“Motel a few miles from here. We’re limited on vehicles so Ed McElroy dropped me off and he’s coming to pick me up.”
“I can drive you back,” said Pine.
Puller pointed to a green sedan with government plates parked at the curb a few feet away, with McElroy leaning against the front fender.
“He’s already here.”
They walked over to McElroy.
“How was the food?” he asked, pushing off the fender and walking toward them.
Before Puller could answer, the bullet slammed into McElroy’s back, dropping him right where he had stood alive and well a second before.
Chapter 11
Puller and Pine crouched down behind the sedan as more rounds sailed past them. A bullet smacked into the window glass of the sedan, shattering it. Another caromed off a metal windshield support, sending bits of shrapnel spinning away.
Puller and Pine drew their weapons and returned fire at the mouth of the alley from where the shots were coming.
Terrified people had dropped to the pavement and were screaming.
When no more shots came their way, Puller quickly checked McElroy’s pulse. There was none. The man’s pupils were fixed and turning glassy. His life was over.
“Shit,” muttered Puller. He dialed 911 and told the dispatcher what had happened. He put the phone away and said, “You stay here with the body. I’m going after the shooter.”
“Not alone, you’re not.”