Keeping flat against the side of the house, she reached the door. It was locked, which was not surprising. She looked toward the part of the house where the two people were and gauged it to be far enough away for her to safely attempt what she was about to.
She put one foot on the doorknob, stepped up, and grabbed hold of the home’s fa?ade, where there was enough irregularity in the stonework to provide a space for her strong fingers to grip. She did a pull-up and then brought her weight down fully on the doorknob. She felt it bend but not break. She did this same maneuver twice more, and the knob sheared off.
She dropped to the ground and looked at her handiwork. With the knob gone the inner workings of the lock were revealed. She stuck her finger in the hole and, using considerable strength, managed to move back the mechanism controlling the lock.
She gave a push and the door swung open.
The next moment she was inside and her gun was out. She surveyed the area.
Her speculation that the place had been closed down seemed to be verified by the stuffy air and the dust covers over the furniture. She quickly and quietly searched the rooms on this level. When she was done Cain listened for a few moments until she heard the footsteps overhead together with muted voices. She found the stairs and took each riser with care.
She heard more footsteps and more muted voices. She froze and waited for a bit. Mercy suddenly realized that she had no idea what her sister sounded like. She quietly slipped back down the stairs and waited at the bottom in case whoever was up there decided to leave this way.
Five minutes later and growing impatient, she made her way up and reached the door at the top of the stairs.
Mercy inched it open and peered through the crack. What she saw was an expansive space, lavishly decorated, but again with the furniture covered. She opened the door enough to squeeze through and bent low, surveying the field in front and behind her.
She started to take a step forward but then stopped. She hadn’t heard any more footsteps or voices in quite a while. She straightened and started to race forward when she heard the vehicle start up.
She made it to the window in time to see an SUV roar out from somewhere and disappear between the hedges that lined the driveway. A moment later the Escalade followed suit.
“Damn,” exclaimed Mercy. She was torn between searching the rest of the house and rejoining Blum. Finally deciding that if her sister was here, they wouldn’t leave her behind, she left the way she had come. She ran flat-out to where she had left Blum in the Porsche in the church parking lot.
Only neither the SUV nor Carol Blum were there any longer.
CHAPTER
56
PINE LEAPT OUT OF THE ANCIENT TRUCK before it even stopped in front of the hotel.
“Thank you,” she called over her shoulder.
The elderly woman tooted her horn, leaned out the window, and cried out, “Thank you, missy! Most fun I’ve had in years!”
Pine raced into the lobby and ran up to the front desk where the same woman from the night before was standing.
“My God, Agent Pine,” said the woman. “They’ve been looking everywhere for you. We thought you had been kidnapped.”
“I was but I got away.”
“You’re hurt!”
“What?”
“Your face. It’s all bruised.”
Pine touched the side of her face where she’d gotten kicked. In the spike of adrenaline during her escape, she hadn’t even remembered it or felt the pain. Now it all came rushing back to her. She rubbed her oblique where she’d been struck the first time. It was swollen and hurt like hell. Whoever had done it packed a wallop.
She refocused and said, “Where’s the woman I was with, Carol Blum?”