Buckley opened the door to one building that had a sign out front reading, simply, JAIL. Even among the Faithful you had those who needed to be punished, and this was where they had performed their penance. His father had been a stickler on that. Rule violators needed to be made examples of. That was one reason Buckley had rebuilt it, as just a symbol. However, he had never expected to actually use it.
But now, this building housed Carol Blum.
CHAPTER
61
SHE SAT ON A SMALL, HARD BED behind a set of steel bars. Her clothes had been replaced with old-fashioned black-and-white-striped prison scrubs that Buckley had bought and used to stock the jail. Back then his father had favored the striped prisoner uniforms. Wrongdoers needed to stand out and be made to look foolish. Zebra stripes fit the bill nicely.
She looked up at his approach. He could tell she was trying to put on a brave face, but right behind that fa?ade was stark fear. Buckley would be afraid, too. It was just in the nature of human beings facing the end of their lives to be fearful.
He stood on the other side of the bars and looked at her. She didn’t have a blindfold on. There was no need of one.
“Are you being well taken care of?” he asked.
“Are you serious?” she asked. “Or did you just come here to play mind games with me? If so, I’m sure you have better things to do with your time.”
“I’m sorry if my query offended you. And I believe you’re right. It was, under the circumstances, callous.” He sat down in a chair and crossed one leg over another. “So let’s get down to it. Tell me about the Pine sisters.”
“Why?”
“They’re fascinating. I’m curious.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Tell me what they’re like.”
“I just met Mercy,” said Blum.
“Still, whatever you can contribute.”
“I will tell you nothing that will cause harm to them.”
“Not my point. But to show you I’m doing this in good faith, let me tell you about my family. Ken was my youngest brother. I was the oldest. I also have two sisters. My other brothers were also failures in life. They’re all dead or in prison.”
“And your sisters?”
“They left the family long ago,” Buckley replied.
“I’ve always found that women have far better judgment in certain matters than men.”
Buckley smiled, but there wasn’t much behind it. He was here to get useful information, but there were limits to what he would accept from anyone. He felt a tremor in his right hand and was somewhat surprised to see it curling in anger. But there had been a lot of anger in this place. Maybe just his being here was allowing it to percolate to the surface, supplanting what was normally his controlled and placid manner. He had truly been an angry child on that horrific night. He had worked for years to subdue those demons. He thought he had; now Buckley was not so certain.
He cleared his throat and said, “Ken had a girlfriend. He was terrible to her. A true monster. Despite my best efforts, he really never became civilized in any appreciable way. Then he ran into Mercy Pine, for let’s call the woman by her proper name. They fought. Ken eventually pulled a gun. And she, deservedly, beat him up. Later, in the hospital, he died of the injuries she inflicted on him. She probably has no idea he’s even dead.”
“So this is simply about avenging your brother? Even though, as you said, he deserved it?”
“There is nothing simple about revenge, particularly for a family member. But while it might have started out that way, it has grown into something more . . . symbolic.” He looked around. “Do you know where we are?”