Buckley took out his wallet and pulled out a fistful of cash. “It will be worth your while, Mrs. Atkins. We just have some questions. You are Wanda Atkins, correct?”
“Yes, yes I am, and I don’t care who knows it. I got nothing to hide. But what do you want with Becky?”
“This would be much better discussed privately,” said Buckley smoothly.
“Well, all right,” said Atkins, staring at the bills clutched in his hand.
She led them into the living room. Len was sleeping in his wheelchair.
“Mr. Atkins?” said Buckley.
“Yes, he’s had a stroke. I don’t want to wake him. He can’t talk anyway—he just grunts,” she said bluntly.
“All right,” said Buckley, with a glance at Spector, who was drilling Atkins with a hard look.
They all sat down, and Buckley said, “Have you seen Cain lately? Might she have been the one to knock down your lamppost?”
Spector added, “That would have taken a lot of force.”
“Well, she’s a big woman, bigger than you,” said Atkins before she caught herself.
“So she has been here then?” interjected Buckley.
“You mentioned money?” said Atkins.
Buckley placed two thousand dollars in hundred-dollar bills on the coffee table. “And depending on what you can tell us, I’ll double that amount.”
“But what I don’t get is why everyone’s all so interested in Becky now.”
“Like who?” asked Buckley.
“The FBI has been here. Couple of gals.”
“Female FBI agents?” said Spector quickly.
“Well, one was I guess. The other woman was too old. I think the agent said she was an assistant.”
“Interesting,” noted Spector. “That’s not usually how the Bureau conducts investigations. What was the agent’s name?”
“She left me her card.” Atkins rose, went into the other room, and came back out with one of the business cards Pine had left her and handed it to Buckley. He looked at the name and then passed it to Spector.
“Did you know this Atlee Pine?” asked Buckley.
“No, but there’re almost three thousand female special agents at the Bureau.”
“Are you with the FBI, too?” asked Atkins, who was listening closely to this.
“No, but I know some of the agents.”
Buckley said, “What did you tell Agent Pine?”
“She already knew a lot, but I filled in some blanks.”
When she didn’t seem inclined to say any more, Buckley pushed the pile of cash toward her. “And we look forward to you doing the same for us, filling in blanks.”
“But what’s your concern in all this?”
“We have been tasked with finding El Cain. She’s wanted in connection with a crime.”
“What sort of crime?”
“The worst of all, I’m afraid—murder.”
“Murder? Who was killed?”
“We can’t go into that right now. But she is wanted by the police. What we’re trying to do is find her and convince her to turn herself in. That way no one gets hurt.”
“My God. She never mentioned a murder.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t.”