Daylight

by David Baldacci

  Castor drank his coffee while he thought about her questions.

  “Well, first of all I didn’t know he was going to disappear, so I didn’t pay particular attention to the time leading up to it.”

  “Still, anything you can recall.”

  He shook his head. “Not that I can recall, no. I’m sorry. It was just so long ago.”

  “Okay, so you left there and started work at the auto body place?”

  “That’s right. I was always good with cars. Then that place went under and I got this job.”

  “So Ito would have disappeared some time shortly before that?”

  “Yeah. In 2001, I’m pretty sure.”

  “Okay. Let me ask you something else. During the spring and summer of 1989, was Ito absent from the business?”

  Castor finished his coffee. “Nineteen eighty-nine? Whew, now you’re really getting in the weeds with me, lady.”

  “Take your time and think it through again,” said Pine. “And I’m not talking about a day or even a week. This would have been a chunk of time that he was gone, I’m talking months. You should be able to remember that.”

  Realization finally spread across Castor’s face. “That’s right. I remember now. It must’ve been 1989, ’cause I’d been there about four years then and that was the only time he was gone for more than a few days. Said he was going to Italy, you know, the old country. That’s what he told Evie, too. They still had kids at home, so I guess she couldn’t go. He was gone for about two months, maybe more. And it was a busy time, too, the spring and all. Scared me to death because I had to make all the ice cream and stuff. But Ito had taught me well. Evie stepped in and helped out. So it worked out okay. But still, I wish he hadn’t left us in the lurch like that. If he hadn’t come back when he did, I’m not sure he’d have had a business to come back to. If that had happened in 2001 we probably wouldn’t have made it. Like I said, there was a lot more competition for customers in 2001 than in 1989, at least around here.”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” said Pine. “And when he came back?”

  “He had a bunch’a stuff from Italy, all right, and everything seemed okay.”

  “Until he disappeared?”

  “Yep. He got back to work and ran the business, and everything was normal. Until that time he left and never came back. Damn shame. I enjoyed working for him. It was fun. What I do now, it’s just a job.”

  “Did you know his brother, Bruno?”

  “Can’t say that I did, no. I did hear about him, though. Apparently, he was some kinda criminal like Teddy is. Maybe it ran in the family. He never came around the shop, least that I knew of. Bruno got killed in prison or something, right?”

  “Yes. Did Ito tell you that he was a criminal?”

  “No. Evie did. She didn’t like him one bit, I can tell you that. Told me she wouldn’t have that man in her house. I think she was afraid he’d rub off on Teddy. Well, that strategy didn’t work. But some people are just born bad.”

  “Did Evie have her husband declared dead at some point?” asked Blum. “I think they have to wait a certain amount of time, seven years or so.”

  “Not that I know of, but I would’ve moved on long before then.”

  “Anything else you can tell us? Focusing on when he came back?” asked Pine. She leaned forward and her voice grew tense. “Did he seem nervous or upset, or troubled in any way?”

  Castor scratched his head. “Not that I recall specifically. But again, it was a long time ago. He brought me back a bottle of wine from Italy. And some chocolates. Never had nothing like that before.”

  “So he just seemed the same?” asked Pine, clearly disappointed.

  Castor thought some more. “Well, I don’t know if it means anything, but I do remember him telling me something not that long after he got back.”

  “What?” said Pine sharply.

  “He said you never know what you’re capable of until you have to do it. It was such a weird thing to say that it stuck with me.”

  Pine glanced at Blum.

  “Did he elaborate?” asked Blum.

  “Well, I asked him did he have to do something in Italy that surprised him.”

  “And what was his answer?”

  “He said he hadn’t done something that surprised him. He’d done something that shocked him. But he never would say what that was.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t,” muttered Pine. She handed Castor her card. “You’ve been a big help. If anything else occurs to you, give me a call or shoot me an email.”

  CHAPTER

  9

  JOHN PULLER WAS NOT a man easily intimidated. A many-times-decorated soldier and two-time Purple Heart recipient, he carried physical scars from being in a war that were harsh to look at, but he nonetheless carried them with pride. The internal trauma he endured from humans trying to kill other humans in often the most barbaric ways possible was difficult to confront. So he often chose not to. Whether that would come back to haunt him at some point, as it had others, he didn’t know. But right now he had a job to do. And right now that job was causing Puller considerable stress, or at least the man sitting across from him was.

  Barney Moss was taller than Puller but flabby, his skin a sickly white. His drab brown suit was ill fitted, either because he’d lost weight or because he didn’t give a crap about his clothes. His hairdo was a stringy, greasy comb-over. He looked like the villain in every bad 1970s-era movie ever made. His necktie was undone, and his open collar showed off his neck wattle. He was the government suit repping Fort Dix so, technically, he was a fellow fed. Yet from the moment Puller stepped into the office, Moss’s manner had Puller fantasizing about pulling his gun.

  “So just to be clear, you are not to ever approach Theodore Vincenzo again for any reason,” said Moss, for the third time now. He apparently thought repetition equated with substance. “If you do, there will be hell to pay and you’ll be the one footing the bill, buddy.”

  He stared straight across the width of the scarred and cheap wooden desk, like it was a stretch of battlefield and Puller was the enemy firmly engaged.

  Puller cleared his throat, inclined his neck slightly to the right, and was rewarded with a satisfying pop and release of vertebral pressure.

  “Well, now let me be as clear as I can be, Mr. Moss. I’m investigating a case and I talk to the people I need to talk to, and Teddy Vincenzo is one of those people.” Puller kept direct eye contact with the man, searing every detail of his countenance into the part of his memory that he reserved for “special people.”

  Puller continued, “And, despite your calling me and ordering me to come here, I still don’t have a clue as to why you’re even involved in this, since you don’t happen to be in my chain of command. That also means that legally, technically, and every other way in which the United States Army does business, I have no obligation to follow any order you attempt to give me. So I’m just here as a courtesy. You might or might not be familiar with the concept.” He added, “Just so we’re clear.”

  Moss sighed and rested his palms on his paunch. “So that’s how it’s going to be, is it?”

  “From my perspective, it’s the only way it can be.”

  “What, you need to hear from your buddies playing soldier in the sandbox?” he said with a sneer. “Will that make you feel better if it comes from a guy with pretty ribbons on his chest?”

  Puller’s features remained inscrutable even as he inwardly seethed at this inane insult. “I need to hear from my chain of command. It goes up to the commanding general at the U.S. Army’s Criminal Investigation Command and then tops out at the Army’s Provost Marshal General. Just like you have a chain of command.” Puller cocked his head and eyed the man more closely. “So can you tell me who ordered you to do this?”

  “To do what?”

  “Feed me a bunch of bullshit.”

  “Sorry, but you’re not cleared for anything else.”

  “On the contrary, I’m cleared for everyth
ing up to TS/SCI with polygraph. How about you? What are you cleared for?”

  Puller eyed the wall behind the man where photos and mementos were hung. They looked to be of local politicians, business leaders, a few national pols whom Puller recognized, shaking hands and grinning and doing what elected officials are often compelled to do. He didn’t even know if this was Moss’s office. There had been no name on the door.

  “That’s none of your business,” said Moss, an ugly expression on his face.

  “For somebody with all the answers, you don’t seem to have any.”

  “Don’t push me!” barked Moss. “You think you’re something special because you wear a uniform?”

  Puller rose and looked down at the man.

  “I’ve got better things to do with my time than sit here.”

  Moss pointed a finger at him. “You work for the federal government. Your loyalty lies there. You follow orders. Well, here’s your order: Stay away from the Vincenzos.”

  Puller flinched slightly. “So father and son, then?”

  To Puller, who was observing Moss closely, the man seemed to have regretted his words, not because of their harshness, but because of their carelessness. He composed himself and said, “You’ll learn I don’t make threats lightly.”

  Puller closed the door quietly after him, even though his initial impulse had been to slam it.

  Don’t give the idiot the satisfaction.

  As Puller walked outside the government building he saw a column of dark clouds shaped like anvils creeping across the Delaware River as a storm rolled in over the water.

  It definitely fit his mood.

  Before he got to his car he phoned Pine and filled her in on his meeting with Moss.

  “What the hell is going on? Why is all this happening?” “Teddy did mention that his son was involved in something way over his head. Maybe the people behind that got me called on the carpet with Moss.”

  “But that would mean the folks involved in a criminal enterprise have connections to the government.”

  “Corruption is the number one business for some politicians. Serving the country faithfully doesn’t even run a close second.”

  “Well, it’s certainly plausible that Tony Vincenzo or the people he was working with could have connections to some powerful people.”

  “We just have to find out who they are. Hey, how about some dinner tonight and we can plan our next moves?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Puller gave her the time and place.

  “But we need to tread lightly, Puller. It’s all well and good not to be called off by a jerk like this Moss guy. But there have to be people behind him who carry a lot more clout.”

  “It’s one of the reasons I didn’t shoot him. See you tonight.”

  CHAPTER

  10

  PINE TOOK A SHOWER, changed into jeans and a sweater, gunned up, and slipped her badge and creds into a bag, which she slung over her shoulder. She caught her reflection in the mirror.

  I do look like my mother.

  The mother who had abandoned her. That was not a motherly thing to do. It had tainted everything that Pine felt about her. Yet she still wanted to know where her mother was. Whether she was alive or dead.

  She drove to the restaurant, which was in a suburb of Trenton. She had looked it up online. It served Italian cuisine without breaking the budget of two federal stiffs like herself and Puller.

  He was already waiting in the small foyer when she got there. He was dressed in jeans, a gray V-neck sweater with a T-shirt underneath, and a windbreaker.

  The waiter took them to a back table, something Puller had requested. He sat with his back to the wall, which was something Pine liked to do as well.

  The restaurant had the usual decorations for that kind of place. Fake vines growing out of old Chianti bottles, framed prints of yachts and beachgoers on the Mediterranean hanging on the wall, red-and-white-checkered tablecloths, and menus thick enough to be novellas.

  They ordered Peroni beer and opted to share a pizza with Greek salad starters. Each of their gazes had already taken in all the patrons in the place, and all possible exits. It was in the DNA. It should be in everyone’s DNA, Pine thought, particularly these days when any building could, at any moment, become a shooting gallery.

  “I didn’t ask you before, but how’s your brother and your father?”

  “Bobby’s doing great. Running a chunk of the country’s cyber-security now.”

  “And your father?”

  Puller’s father was “Fighting John” Puller, a legendary Army three-star with more medals than almost anyone. He was now in a VA hospital suffering from dementia.

  “Hanging in there” was all Puller would say. “Just hanging in there. How’s Arizona?”

  “Hot. And dry. How about you? Are you still in Virginia?”

  Puller said, “Yeah, but I spend most days on the road.”

  “Our jobs don’t leave much time for pleasure.”

  “No they don’t. You still doing the Olympic weightlifting and MMA tournaments?”

  In college Pine had competed to be on the women’s weightlifting team for the Olympics but had missed out on a slot by a kilo. She was a black belt in multiple martial arts and had competed in MMA matches.

  “I still lift just to stay in shape. I’m getting too old for the MMA stuff, but I can still kick over my head,” she added with a grin.

  “I hear you.” He paused. “So, I dug a little into this Moss guy, but I didn’t find much. I don’t think he’s been in the job long.”

  “He hasn’t” was Pine’s reply.

  He looked up at her. “You scored something?”

  She nodded. “Called in some contacts. Up until a year ago he was a bigwig attorney in Manhattan. Then he joined a lobbying firm. He went right from there to working for the Bureau of Prisons. He’s currently the northeast regional director, which puts Fort Dix under his jurisdiction.” She paused. “If you met the guy, didn’t he tell you that? Or wasn’t the title on his office door?”

  “No and no. I don’t think it was even his office. There were a bunch of photos on the wall, but he was in none of them. He’s probably not based in Trenton. He was just the closest attack dog they could sic on me.”

  “That’s interesting.”

  “It’s also informative. And infuriating. He obviously doesn’t hold the military in high regard.”

  “Why’d you even bother to meet with him?”

  “I got the call and was told to meet with the guy.”

  “Who told you to do that?” she asked.

  “A guy two levels up from me at CID. He didn’t seem happy about it. I think he was just grudgingly passing the request along. But his tone made it clear I had to go.”

  “So Moss ordered you to stand down?”

  “Which I told him he had no authority to do.”

  “Bureau of Prisons is under DOJ.”

  “Still not in my chain of command,” Puller replied.

  “But DOJ can make it really hot for you.”

  “I haven’t heard any blowback yet from my side, which I take as a good sign. My folks want whoever’s behind this drug ring Tony Vincenzo’s involved in. Like I said, if they’re selling to soldiers, it diminishes their military readiness. If soldiers are selling the drugs, it opens them up to blackmail by enemies of this country. So it ultimately strikes right at America’s national security. If DOJ wants to make the argument to the DoD that something takes precedence over protecting this country, I’d love to be in the room to hear what it is.”

  “At the end of the day, politicians do love the military, at least publicly, so you might have both right and might on your side there.”

  “Maybe,” Puller said. “Did you find anything else about your mom and your sister?”

  She took a few minutes to fill him in on what she had discovered in the box in Evie Vincenzo’s closet and also her conversation with Darren Castor, the man who had worked for Ito at
the ice cream shop.

  “So Ito did go down to Georgia, abducted your sister, and almost killed you. That seems to be confirmed, or as close as is possible at the moment.”

  “Looks to be.”

  “In revenge for his brother, Bruno?”

  “It seems the case, yes.”

  “And Ito told his employee that he was shocked by what he had done?”

  “I don’t know if that refers to almost killing a six-year-old girl, me. Or . . . ” Pine could not bring herself to say it: Or murdering my sister.

  Puller, obviously sensing her distress, gripped her hand and said, “One thing I’ve learned over the years, you have to hope for the best, and plan for the worst. But it’s also true that until we know everything we really know nothing. There is no evidence that conclusively shows your sister was killed, correct?”

  “Correct,” said Pine, finally meeting his eye after twice trying and failing. She felt her adrenaline spike and tried to hide the fact that she was taking deep breaths to keep her nerves from running away from her. The last thing she wanted to show to Puller was that she was not in control. The man would be understanding, but his confidence in her would also be lessened.

  “Okay, then we have to proceed in the belief that she’s still alive.”

  She said, “The odds are not with that assumption, you know that.”

  “I also know how many times the facts have proved my best assumptions wrong. There are a number of things that Ito could have done with her. And from everything you’ve learned about the guy, he was not a violent criminal, not like his brother. He owned an ice cream shop.”

  “Everyone I talked to pretty much described him as being nice and kind . . . and normal.”

  Puller slowly let go of her hand. “It’s hard to kill someone, Atlee. We both know that. It’s harder still to kill a child.”

  Pine touched her head where Ito had struck and shattered her skull. “He managed to nearly kill me.”

  “And maybe that’s what could conceivably have saved your sister. He could have killed you, easily. But he hit you and then fled without knowing whether you were dead or not.”