“And I highly doubt we’ll find her at home, but I’m going to check there anyway.”
“I can send you the address. I have it in my files.”
“How did your ‘attack’ plan go?”
“I met with him yesterday, drove home, and got ambushed. I have no idea if the two events are connected. I hope they’re not, because that would suggest a mole inside the Army at a pretty high level.”
“I think Teddy Vincenzo was spot-on when he said his son was in way over his head.”
“The son might not even be alive at this point,” noted Puller.
“If not, there goes my only lead to Ito. So what’s your next move?”
“I should wait for my command to get back to me. But I don’t think I will. I don’t like it when people come to my home and shoot it up. I take that personally.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“Somebody must have seen something last night. It’s not like they were bothering to keep quiet; they brought full artillery. What about you?”
“I also don’t take kindly when someone pulls the shit they did with me last night. So shoot me her address and I’m going after Axilrod.”
“Let’s compare notes later, and Atlee, I know I don’t have to tell you, but I am anyway.”
“I’m going to watch every flank I have. And trust nobody.”
“Copy that.”
The phone went dead. Pine finished her coffee and sandwich and then had another cup.
When she saw Blum enter the restaurant, she waved her over.
“I’m sorry, Carol, I should have invited you to eat with me.”
“No, it’s fine. I already ate.” She sat down and looked at her boss.
Pine read everything in the woman’s eyes. “I know, Carol. I know. I have to be more careful.” She took a few minutes to fill Blum in on what had happened to Puller.
“My God! So I assume you’ve talked to him?”
“Just now. He said his cat saved him.”
“Good cats do, you know,” replied Blum matter-of-factly. Pine’s expression darkened. “A woman is dead because of me, Carol. And I have to make that right.”
“I had already anticipated that you would say that. But I’ll tell you what I told you back in Andersonville. You’re here to find out what happened to your sister. And while the two cases may have some tangential connections, you could spend all your time on one, solve it, and make no progress on your sister.”
“I had thought about that. But I can’t just let this go. A young kid with a great future is dead. I saw him die. A young woman who was out at a party had her head nearly cut off. And I think she was chosen as a victim so that I could be set up and found dead with the body. So that’s on me, too. I am not going to let these assholes get away with this. I’m an FBI agent. This is my wheelhouse. And it always will be.”
“Another thing I anticipated you saying. And I’m not disagreeing with you. I just want you to move forward fully informed. Including my two cents.”
Pine reached out and gripped Blum’s hand. “I appreciate your two cents. It always turns out to be far more valuable than that.”
“So what now?”
“I have two people to find. Tony Vincenzo and Lindsey Axilrod. And who knows, one might very well lead me to the other.”
CHAPTER
33
PULLER EMAILED LINDSEY AXILROD’s home address to Pine. In it he also verified that Axilrod had not shown up for work that morning. She and Blum drove over to the small bungalow situated in a quiet neighborhood about five miles from Fort Dix.
“No car in the driveway,” observed Blum.
“Front door closed. No lights on that I can see, though it is daylight. No one lurking in the bushes.”
They pulled to a stop at the curb, got out, and walked up to the front door. Pine rapped on the wood and waited. No answer. She rapped harder, with the same result.
Pine eyed the doorbell. “She has a doorbell with a camera, so she’s probably watching us right now from wherever she is.” They walked to the backyard, where there were two listing and rusted poles set in concrete and the remnants of a rotted clothesline, which was hanging down to the ground. A wooden and shingled utility shed sat back against the fence.
Pine walked over to it and peered in one of the windows. “No dead bodies hanging from the rafters. Just a lawn mower and some gardening tools.”
“What do we do now?” asked Blum.
“I’d really like to get into her house.”
“But without a search warrant we have no legal standing to do so. And if you’re thinking about breaking and entering again, I would advise against it.”
“Maybe I can do something that would allow us legal entry then.”
She made a call and said, “I’m FBI Special Agent Atlee Pine. I was supposed to meet with a woman named Lindsey Axilrod about a matter I’m investigating. She did not show up for work today and we’re at her home now. She is not responding to my knocks. I’d like you to do a welfare check on her because I’m worried that something might have happened to her.” Pine gave the address and put her phone away and looked at Blum.
Five minutes later a cruiser pulled up in front of the house and two uniforms climbed out. One was in his forties, overweight with a flushed face and a bored look. The other was about a decade younger, tall and thin with a runner’s build, who looked far more animated than his partner at having been called in by the Bureau.
“You the FBI agent?” said the older cop. His name tag read DONNELLY, and he looked like a man going through the motions until his pension kicked in.
Pine produced her badge and creds and introduced Blum.
The younger cop, who had excitedly identified himself as Officer Brent Tatum, said, “What were you investigating with the lady who lives here?”
“Not something I can disclose, really, but I can tell you that she was a potential witness for something critical to national security that was going on at her place of work.”
“Which was where, exactly?” asked Donnelly.
“Fort Dix.”
“But that’s military.”
“I’m working the case with Army CID.”
Donnelly rubbed his chin and shot a glance at the house. “Locked?”
“Yes. She has a doorbell camera, but she didn’t respond, which she could have even if she wasn’t here.”
“We better check this out, Dan,” said Tatum.
His partner didn’t seem inclined to do so, but he hitched up his gun belt and led the way up the walk. He knocked on the door and got no answer. Then he bent down to the doorbell and said, “Ms. Axilrod, are you here?”
“Hello, who is that?”
Donnelly straightened, shot a look at Pine, and said, “Officer Donnelly with the Trenton Police Department. Is this Ms. Axilrod?”
“Yes it is. What do you want?”
“We have an FBI agent here, Agent Pine, who said she was supposed to meet with you.”
“Oh, I think I remember that. But I was called out of town on a family emergency. I’ll have to get back to her when I return.”
Pine strode past Donnelly and said, “Axilrod, I need to know where you are, right now.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’m at the hospital with my mother. I’ll call you later.”
“Axilrod!” barked Pine, but the door camera remained silent.
“Well, that’s that, she’s got a family emergency,” said Donnelly. “She’ll call you when she gets back, like she said. You sure she didn’t say anything from the camera when you knocked earlier?”
Pine gave him an incredulous look and he said quickly, “Well, least she’s okay. Have a good day.”
They got back into their cruiser and pulled off, leaving Pine and Blum standing there.
Pine leaned down to the camera and said, “Hey, Lindsey, I’m really looking forward to seeing you again. And next time you send somebody to kill me, better make it a girl. The guys keep coming up short
. And just so you know, however long it takes, one day I’m going to put my cuffs on you and read you your rights. And you’re going to get a lifetime supply of prison food.”
They walked back to the car and got in.
“Can we trace her from that door camera? It must be tied to her phone.”
“Yes. If I could get a warrant. But I’m not even officially working this case. Puller could try, but by the time he gets a warrant it’ll be too late.”
Her phone rang.
“Jack?” said Pine. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” said Lineberry. “There’s talk of letting me go home tomorrow or the next day. But I was calling because I came up with an old contact for you. His name is Douglas Bennett. He’s in his early seventies now and lives in Annapolis.”
“What was his involvement?” she asked.
“He was my handler.”
“So he was with the CIA then? As were you? You were never clear on that.”
“And I’m not admitting to anything now, Atlee. But Doug was intimately involved and knew both your parents, and he actually met you and your sister. You wouldn’t remember that, of course. He’s long since retired and spends his days sailing, taking long walks with his prized Labradoodles, Finnegan and Guinness, and puttering around his garden.”
“Is he married?”
“He was. Joan died two years ago. A car accident. He lives alone now, except for his dogs, his books, his boat, and his memories.”
“So you kept in touch all these years?”
“Yes. He’s a good man. A good friend.”
Pine, who was already in a bad mood because of Axilrod, barked, “Which means you should have thought of him off the top of your head when I asked you for old contacts, but you said you had to think about it.”
“The fact is, I had no idea if Doug would talk to you. I wasn’t going to give you his name until I cleared it with him.”
“So he’s agreed to meet?” Pine said in a calmer tone.
“We wouldn’t be having this discussion if he hadn’t. I’ll text you his address.”
“And how much does he know of my situation?”
“Some. I thought I’d leave it to you to explain the bulk of it.”
“Okay, Jack, thanks. And sorry for snapping at you. It hasn’t been a great twenty-four hours for me.”
“Good luck.”
He clicked off, leaving Pine lost in thought.
“Well?” asked Blum.
Pine glanced up. “Looks like we’re heading to Annapolis.”
CHAPTER
34
THEY PULLED INTO ANNAPOLIS after a nearly four-hour car journey and were driving down one of the main streets of the town, a quaint shopping area also filled with exclusive and nicely tricked out bed-and-breakfasts and small inns.
The twin heavy smells of fish and salt air from the nearby water fell thickly on them.
“The Naval Academy is down that way,” said Pine, pointing to her right. “I had a friend who graduated from there.”
“Pretty prestigious,” said Blum.
“And right down here is Doug Bennett’s house. He has a place right on the harbor. Nice location.”
They parked in front of a gray, shingled Cape Cod. They could see the mast of a docked sailboat rise up from behind the house.
They walked up a flagstone path to the front door.
Blum noted the neat, mulched flower beds, healthy lawn, and trees, and said, “A disciplined, methodical person.”
Pine had called ahead, and the door opened as soon as she knocked. Facing her was Doug Bennett. He was about six feet tall and beefy of build, with a shock of white hair and a tanned, weathered face. He had on khaki pants and a white polo shirt with the Naval Academy’s insignia printed on it.
Two large and curly-haired dogs stood on either side of him, as though at attention. One had a white coat, and the other was black and tan with a bit of orange around its muzzle.
An unlit cigar was perched in one corner of Bennett’s mouth. He looked gruff, but when he saw Pine he smiled. He took the cigar out.
“My God, Lee. Last time I saw you, I held you in one arm.”
“Mr. Bennett, thank you for agreeing to meet with me. This is my associate, Carol Blum.”
“Ms. Blum, very nice to meet you. Please come in.”
He backed away and the dogs moved with him.
“And who are these handsome boys?” asked Pine.
“The tall white one is Finnegan, Finn for short. The black and tan, of course, is Guinness.”
“Labradoodles?” said Blum.
“Yes. I have allergies. These boys do not shed. They have hair, not fur. And they keep me company,” he added quietly. “We take long walks together. They are . . . sound friends.”
Blum glanced around the front room and saw it was decorated in blues and golds and whites. The room had a nautical feel, organized with a place for everything and everything in its place. A wall of built-in cabinetry was filled with photos and books. She saw several photos of the same woman always standing next to Bennett.
Pine noticed this, too. “Jack told us about the loss of your wife. We’re very sorry.”
Bennett’s features clouded and one of his hands reached down and started to stroke Finn’s head.
“Yes. It was . . . a shock.”
“Do you have children?” Blum asked.
He shook his head. “Please sit down. Would you like something to drink? This is about the time of the day where I have a finger or two of scotch.”
“I’ll just take water,” said Pine.
“I’ll join you in the scotch,” said Blum, drawing a surprised look from Pine.
Bennett led them through to the rear of the house, where he poured out the drinks, and they settled in comfortable chairs overlooking the water. Finn and Guinness lay on either side of their owner and friend.
“Is that your boat?” asked Pine.
“Yes. The Saint Joan.” He smiled sadly. “A little joke between us. It’s taken on new meaning now, at least for me.”
“Do the dogs go with you?”
“The dogs go everywhere with me. The two best first mates I’ve ever had.” He added in a pensive tone, “I spent much of my working life alone, just because the mission called for that. Now I don’t like to be alone.” He took a sip of his scotch and looked out at his boat.
“I’m sure,” said Blum.
“So, Jack said you’d talk to me about what happened all those years ago?”
He focused on her. It seemed to Pine that the man was once more assuming a professional veneer over his long-since-retired features. “I’ll tell you what I can. I don’t think it will be everything. Some of the things have never been declassified.”
“You know what happened to me and my sister?”
“Yes.” He swallowed with a bit of difficulty, and Pine thought she could see his eyes glisten before he looked away and rubbed at them. “Yes. It was unfortunate and unforgivable. It was the worst failure of my professional life. Jack’s, too.” He paused and added, “But that was nothing compared to what happened to your family.”
“Thank you,” said Pine. “What can you tell us?”
“I spoke with Jack, of course. He filled me in on what he had told you. Thus, you know what your mother’s role was in all that. She was the inside source in our sting operation against the New York Mafia back in the eighties.”
“Yes. Her real name was Amanda. I never knew her real last name.”
“Doesn’t matter. All that was officially changed, so the Pine family you all became.”
“And my father worked as a bartender at the Cloak and Dagger bar in New York, where part of the sting took place. I was surprised that all of the people working there wouldn’t be law enforcement.”
“We didn’t have enough bodies to fill all the roles,” explained Bennett. “Your father had no idea what was going on, of course. He just poured the drinks.”
“But then he
and my mother became intimate. And she confided in him?”
Bennett slowly nodded. “Damn nuisance, that was. But your mother was so young and under so much pressure. I could hardly blame her for reaching out to Tim. She must have felt very alone.”
“You’re right, they were both very young. So did they have any family?” asked Pine. “Were their parents still alive? Siblings? Grandparents?”
“They both told us no.”
“But did you check?”
“Checking would have led to a possible trail and opened doors that someone could have followed up on. We made the decision to take them at their word.”
“It would be unusual for both of them not to have any family,” noted Blum.
“I’m sure they did have family. But again, we didn’t push it. And to my knowledge neither of them tried to contact anyone while they were under our watch.” He looked at Pine. “Did you ever meet any of their ‘family’? Or I guess your family, too.”
“No.”
Bennett frowned. “In WITSEC, that’s the sacrifice one makes. All ties severed. It’s the only way to keep the protectees safe.”
“But it didn’t work in our case,” said Pine. “Two attempts were made on our lives. We had to be taken out of WITSEC.”
Bennett’s frown deepened. “I know. That drove me nuts.”
“There had to be a leak,” said Blum.
“I agree, but we could never find it. And we looked, long and hard. Checked and rechecked everything.”
“After we left WITSEC, we resettled in Andersonville, Georgia.”
“Yes, I know. Jack and I worked on that.”
“And he was sent down to keep watch over us.”
“Yes.”
“But a man named Ito Vincenzo found us.”
Bennett sat up and drilled her with a fierce stare. “Vincenzo?”
“As in Bruno Vincenzo’s brother. Jack didn’t tell you that part?”
“No, he didn’t. You’re sure. You’re sure it was Bruno’s brother?”
“Yes. Without a doubt.”
“But why would this Ito—?”
“Bruno found out that my mom was a spy for the feds, but he didn’t turn her in. I found a letter that Bruno sent his brother, Ito. In so many words, Bruno intimated that he’d gotten screwed. I’m speculating that he expected some type of sweetheart deal for keeping his mouth shut. Only he went to prison and was killed there.”
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