“No. But would it be impertinent for me to say that your brother got what he deserved?”
“It would not be.”
“So why are you doing this, then?”
“If you had grown up in my family, you might understand.”
“I might, and then again, I might not. What’s the next move?”
“Find El Cain.”
She touched the iPad’s screen. “And we talk to Leonard and Wanda Atkins, currently residents of Huntsville, Alabama, which explains why we’re here. Do you think the agent on the case has been by to talk to them?”
“I would be stunned if they haven’t.”
“And if the Atkinses won’t cooperate?”
“I have ways of making them do so—I’m talking money, of course—and if my methods don’t work, I’m sure you can think of some.”
“You appear to be all-in on this. Otherwise, I doubt you’d be taking such personal risks by going after her with the FBI already involved.”
He glanced over at Spector, frowning. “I’ve taken personal risks my whole life, Britt, just as you have. You do so when the stakes are worth it.”
“Well, you like a challenge, too. Maybe you’ve been stagnating.”
Buckley nodded, looking thoughtful. “There’s no maybe about it. I have been. The earlier years were the best, when I was building something. Even when I had nothing there was a dream in place. I guess there was nowhere to go but up, and it all depended on me. Now I go to board meetings or sit in on video conferences. I listen to stupid, boring people say stupid, boring things, and I wonder why I’m even bothering. They make their money and I make my money. But one can only make so much money.”
“Spoken like someone who has far more than he’ll ever need.”
“Then I’ll triple your fee, but don’t ever think money will replace the thrill of living, Britt.”
“I never said it would, Peter. That’s why I do what I do.”
CHAPTER
40
WE MIGHT BE TOO LATE,” said Spector as they walked up the sidewalk to the Atkinses’ front door that afternoon.
Spector had checked into her room at the hotel and had her champagne and salad in Buckley’s suite. Then Buckley had made numerous phone calls and sent texts and emails. Spector had gone to the gym to engage in her intense daily workout, which had left her sweaty and breathless. She had showered and changed, and they had then driven over here.
Spector examined the knocked-over lamppost. “That looks very recent.”
They hurried up to the front porch, and Buckley rapped on the door.
Wanda Atkins opened it and stared up at them, bleary-eyed.
“I hope you’re not selling something, because I’m not buying.”
“It looks like you need to buy a new lamppost anyway,” said Spector, pointing to the demolished one.
Atkins stared at it and her eyes bulged. “Well, damn.”
“How did it happen?” asked Buckley.
“Excuse me, but who are you folks?” asked Wanda suspiciously. Buckley said, “We’re trying to find a woman named El Cain, but you might know her as Rebecca Atkins.”
“How do you know anything about all that?” demanded a stunned Atkins.
“May we come in?” asked Buckley.
“No, no, I don’t want any visitors now.”