“We were on a jet. We landed. I was led here. There wasn’t much opportunity for me to see anything.”
“This compound used to belong to my parents. Peter and Deborah Buckley. Are the names familiar to you?”
Blum’s eyes narrowed and understanding spread over her features. “It was over thirty years ago. Your parents headed up a group of religious zealots. But they were also involved in drugs and selling weapons. And other things. The feds came here. There was a violent confrontation. Your father was almost killed.”
“And my ‘angelic’ mother testified against him, and then abandoned her children. My father was later murdered in prison. By the way, what ‘other things’ are you referring to?”
She looked him over. “You had to be merely a child back then.”
“I was twelve.”
“Well, then, perhaps you didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?”
Blum hesitated. “It’s not important.”
“No, it is important if it’s about my family.”
“The FBI had a hand in the arrests and prosecutions, that’s why I remember it. I was assigned out west at the time, not too far from where this compound is located. I even assisted in some aspects of the case. It was all hands on deck because of the complexity. That’s why I remember it so well. It was a top priority for several federal agencies, including the Bureau.”
“And?”
“And your father was also charged with engaging in prostitution and human trafficking. He was selling young men and women into the sex trade. Some of them were members of his sect. I forget the name they used.”
“The Faithful. And those allegations were never proved.”
“They were proved. In court. It was one reason your father got a life sentence without parole. And maybe your mother testified against him because she felt enormous guilt about it. That’s just my speculation.”
“I meant it was not proved to my satisfaction.”
Blum said nothing to this, because she could apparently read in his features that her words would not change his opinion. It would be akin to moving a glacier with a tugboat.
Buckley eased back in his chair. “And now that I have bared my past to you, please answer my questions.”
“Agent Pine is a formidable person. An excellent agent. She has never failed on a case, to my knowledge. She is tenacious, smart, and tough.”
“And a good friend of yours. She will surely want your safe return.”
“Which, I’m sure, is a sentiment you don’t share.”
“And Mercy Pine?”
“Has been through hell and back.”
“Yes, I know something of her background. Tell me about their parents.”
“Why?”
“Knowing about the parents can tell much about the children.”
“Does that hold for you, too?” she said.
He smiled. “Are you sure you’re not an FBI agent?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I will concede that my personal history had a large impact on who I am as an adult. Now, the Pines’ parents?”
“When their mother was a teenager she was a mole for the federal government against the Mafia. That put them in danger. That danger came to fruition when Mercy was kidnapped and Agent Pine was almost killed. They were only six years old. It devastated the family.”