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.”
CHAPTER
47
CAIN SLOWLY ROSE, TOWERING OVER BLUM, who had stepped a bit closer to her.
“Who in the hell are you?” said Cain.
“My name is Carol Blum. I work at the FBI. My boss is Atlee Pine, your twin sister. We’ve been trying to find you for a long time now.”
“I don’t have a sister, twin or otherwise.”
Blum took something from her purse and held it out to Cain, who snatched it and looked down at the photo. “That’s a picture that Agent Pine had of you and her and your mother when you were living in Andersonville, Georgia. It’s a Polaroid, the only one she had of you as sisters. I’ve been carrying it for her as we look for you.”
Cain’s gaze took in every aspect of the images. Things, murky elements in her memory, started to jostle back and forth, like bumper cars. The effect was as jarring as real bumper cars would be. “My mother?”
“Yes.”
“And this Atlee, you say she’s my sister?”
“That’s right.”
Cain thrust the photo back at Blum. “That’s a crock of shit. I’ve never even heard of anyone named Atlee.” She grabbed her hoodie and stalked off toward the door.
“But I’m telling you the truth.”
Cain whipped back around and shouted, “Leave me the hell alone, lady. I don’t need this shit, especially right now.”
As Cain turned away from her Blum frantically thought for a moment and then cried out, “You called her Lee when you were kids.”
On this, Cain froze in the doorway of the gym. She expected every muscle in her body to tense, but instead they relaxed, like a tired swimmer’s did, after getting safely back to shore.
It’s okay, Momma, it’s just Lee being Lee. She’ll find her way down. She always does. Don’t be mad at her, Momma.
Cain now began to tremble. The calm was gone. The bumper cars in her head were now smacking each other with increasing velocity. It actually hurt, not like a headache. It was like someone had lit a match to her soul. But she needed more than a name and an old picture.
She turned to Blum. “There are lots of girls named Lee.”
“Your mother’s name was . . . Julia,” Blum said tentatively.
Cain shook her head. “Means nothing to me.”
She again turned to leave while Blum desperately tried to think of something, anything to hold her. Then she remembered their meeting with Desiree, what the woman had said about the book that had driven Mercy into a frenzy. Maybe she would remember that.
“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,” Blum blurted out.
Cain whipped around. “What?”
“The nursery rhyme the kidnapper used to choose between the two of you. ‘Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.’ Do you recall that?”
Cain sagged against the wall and then abruptly sat down on one of the weight stack benches.
Blum said in a sympathetic tone. “I know this is all overwhelming. The truth is, the man who abducted you that night was named Ito Vincenzo. And we know why he took you. And that he gave you to Len and Wanda Atkins. Who, in turn, gave you to Desiree and Joe.”
Cain said dully, “Wanda told me that. And Desiree is in jail here, I found that out.”