CHAPTER
5
PINE DROVE THE PORSCHE WHILE Blum piloted the rental to the drop-off location at the airport. After that they headed to Lineberry’s penthouse apartment in downtown Atlanta. Pine had been there before to have a drink with Lineberry, but it was the first visit for Blum.
“Oh my God,” said Blum when the private elevator opened directly into the penthouse suite’s vestibule. “This is something right out of a dream.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Pine glumly.
Blum eyed her. “Oh come on, Agent Pine. This is a lot better than the motel we stayed at last time. The heat didn’t work and the shower ran at a trickle.”
“He let us use his place in New York. Now we’re driving his Porsche and staying here, and we have the use of his private jet, and he wants to leave me all this money and—”
“Yes, I really do feel sorry for you having to face all that,” Blum said with a look that made Pine feel about an inch tall.
Pine sighed. “I know, I know, Carol. Most people would feel like they’d won the lottery.”
“But you’re not most people,” said Blum, growing serious.
“I don’t care about stuff like that. I never have. My apartment back in Shattered Rock is perfect. I’ve got my really cool vintage Mustang convertible. It’s all I need. I’m not a private jet sort of gal.”
“That’s fine. But let’s just use what Jack has offered in order to get where we need to go as fast as possible, like he said.”
“Right, okay.”
Blum looked at her watch. “It’s dinnertime. With the ‘staff’ on leave, should I head to what I am sure is a fabulous kitchen and whip something up? I bet the fridge and freezer are fully stocked.”
Pine took the credit card out of her pocket. “Or how about I treat you to dinner instead? Or at least Jack can.”
The building concierge gave them several recommendations, and they decided on a French bistro within walking distance of their building.
They ordered a bottle of wine and their meals and spent two hours at a table in the back mostly talking about innocuous things. It felt refreshing to Pine, but she also felt some remorse. Pretty much every waking moment lately had been devoted to finding her sister. Deviating from that, even for a little bit, felt like a betrayal of Mercy.
“We are making progress, Agent Pine, but we do need to take a break every now and then,” said Blum, apparently reading Pine’s thoughts.
Pine nodded and then glanced around the restaurant, eyeing people who she was sure had their own share of problems, maybe not as dire as hers, yet problems still. But she was afraid, despite the “progress” Blum had mentioned, that either her problem would never have a resolution, or the conclusion would be finding her sister’s body.
Can you handle that, Lee? You told yourself you could. But were you lying?
They were walking back when Blum said, “Will you read the letter tonight?”
Pine nodded. “Yes. I have to, although part of me is dreading it.”
“I can understand that. Although there might be some clue in there.”
“Maybe,” Pine said doubtfully.
Back in the apartment, Pine took a long, steaming hot shower, put on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, and climbed into bed.
She took the letter out and stared at the envelope for a little while. With her finger she traced her mother’s lovely cursive handwriting, which was quite familiar to her. Pine sat back against the pillow and then abruptly stood, grabbed her phone, left her room, and walked down to the wine cellar that Lineberry had shown her on their previous visit. She snagged a bottle of Italian wine. It was the same vintage that he had served Pine here before. She’d decided she needed some more alcohol to make it through the reading of her mother’s letter. A lot more.