Daylight

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Daylight Page 34

by David Baldacci


  “How do you mean?”

  “Got called out to their place one time—oh, this was over twenty years ago if it was a day. Somebody had reported screams and such. Well, that sick woman had tied down a damn dog and was branding the thing all over. Poor cuss. I cut it loose and it went tearing away barking its head off. Wrote her up for animal cruelty, but that was about all I could do.” He snapped his fingers. “Desiree, that was her name, all right. Desiree Atkins. Anyway, I remember her looking at me with these eyes. Dead eyes, I call ’em. Nothing behind them. Chilled me to the bone—and I’m no scaredy-cat, I can tell you that. I figured it was because of her condition.”

  “Her condition?” said Pine.

  Realization spread over Roberts’s lean features. “Hey, maybe that’s how you got mixed up.”

  “Mixed up?”

  “See, it was Desiree that could never have kids. Something to do with a woman’s issue. I know old Len and Wanda wanted themselves some grandbabies, but it wasn’t to be.”

  Pine glanced at Blum again. It seemed both women were jumping ahead to an awful conclusion.

  Pine said, “Mr. Roberts, could the girl in the photo, Becky, could she have been maybe adopted by Joe and Desiree? I mean, at first I thought she might have been Len and Wanda’s daughter, but their ages would have been off to have a daughter that young. But Joe and Desiree would have been the right age, I’m thinking, if they were married in the eighties.”

  “Well, it could be. I mean, I never heard of them having no kid, but they didn’t come into town, just like Len and Wanda didn’t.”

  “But if they had a child, surely she would have gone to school,” said Blum.

  Roberts shook his head. “Lots of folks homeschool their kids. They did back then and they still do today.”

  “So you’re saying if Becky did live with them that maybe no one else would know?”

  “It’s certainly possible. This is a big county land-wise, and there ain’t that many people that live in it. You could go for miles without seeing another house. And with all the forests and such around here, the homes are tucked away, not easy to get to and not easy to see from any road.” He eyed Pine with interest. “So where are you going with all this?”

  “Apparently, in an unexpected direction. You mentioned that Joe died?”

  “That’s right?”

  “How?”

  “Well, he was murdered.”

  “What!” exclaimed Pine.

  “If memory serves me correctly, this was sometime in the late spring of 2002. Fortunately, we don’t have too many murders around here, and the ones we do have tend to stick with you.”

  “Were you the one to investigate it?” she asked.

  “I did. Me and my senior deputy at the time.”

  “Can you share any details?”

  “I’ll do my best. And what I can’t tell you, they’ll have files of at the sheriff’s office.” He finished his coffee and settled back. “We got the call in the morning. Man’s body was found near a road by a guy out walking his dogs. Head bashed in and a knife sticking out of his back. It was Joe. And it was obviously a murder, all right.”

  “And where was Desiree?”

  “Damn good question. She vanished. Never did find her. Now, we couldn’t prove she did it. But I’m as sure of that as I am of anything. Why else would she have disappeared like that?”

  “Did you find any evidence? Prints on the knife, signs of a struggle, anything back at their house? Anything to show how he got to where he died?”

  “No prints on the knife. No tire marks to show a vehicle having been there. He bled out where he was found. Ground was iron hard back then. You know our good old Georgia clay. Like concrete. We went to the house. Couldn’t find Desiree. No signs of forced entry. No signs of a struggle. We checked the closet, and while there were some women’s clothes in there she might have taken some and we wouldn’t ever know it.”

  “Any vehicles missing?” asked Pine.

  “Joe’s pickup truck. It was found abandoned about ten miles from here. We checked it for prints. There were two sets in there: Joe’s and Desiree’s. Which was to be expected. Nobody else’s.”

  “Were there any signs of a third person living with them?”

  “So you’re really thinking this Becky person might have been living with Joe and Desiree?”

  “I think it’s possible. She was in that photo with the Atkinses a few years before Joe died.”

  “So you think they had, what, adopted her or something?”

  “It could be.”

  “But there’d be paperwork on that. I mean, there’s a legal process to go through,” pointed out Roberts.

  “Not if you do it illegally,” countered Pine.

  Roberts stiffened. “What are you we talking about here? That they were just dodging the law some, or are you saying that this girl was maybe, what, held against her will?”

  “I’ll be candid with you, Mr. Roberts, because you’ve told us a lot we didn’t know.”

  She proceeded to tell him about Ito Vincenzo and Len Atkins being soldiers together. The checks that she had seen payable to the Atkinses and the correspondence. And about a girl being abducted by Ito and possibly taken to the Atkinses. She didn’t tell him that the girl was her twin sister.

  He said slowly, “So let me just get this all straight. You thought this Ito character kidnapped this girl to give her to Atkins because Atkins saved his life in Nam. Only the child didn’t end up going to Len, but to his son and Desiree?”

  “That’s right. Vincenzo might not have known that. All the info I found had the checks being made out to Len Atkins. Now, he might have given the money to his son, if Joe actually had the girl and was caring for her.”

  “And the FBI is involved because kidnapping is a federal crime?”

  “Right,” said Pine, with a quick glance at Blum.

  “But this case is really old,” pointed out Roberts.

  “I’m working it as a cold case. The Bureau does that from time to time.”

  “Well, I wish I could be of more help.”

  “No, you’ve been a big help. One more question. Can I see where Joe and Desiree lived?”

  “I suppose so. There’s a family living there now, but I know them. I can go over there with you if you want.”

  “That would be great, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “I don’t have anything else to do. Retirement sounds great till you realize there’s not enough stuff to fill up your days. And it rankled me not being able to solve Joe’s murder. It cut his parents up hard.”

  “Right. And they left town, but you don’t know where they moved to?”

  “No, we lost touch over the years.”

  “Well, if we need to, we should be able to track them down. Shall we go?”

  Roberts swiped an Atlanta Falcons ball cap off the side table and stood. Peering down at Rosie, he said, “Okay, girl, no belly rubs from strangers. And hold the fort down.”

  CHAPTER

  73

  ON THE DRIVE OVER IN PINE’S RENTAL, Roberts had phoned the couple who now lived in the house and explained what he wanted. They had readily agreed to the visit.

  “They’re Pat and Hazel Simmons,” he explained. “They bought the place out of foreclosure. Got it for a song, I heard. This was obviously after Joe Atkins died and Desiree disappeared. Pat’s a long-haul trucker. They’ve got two kids, both in high school.”

  “So you’re friends with them?” asked Blum.

  He nodded. “We go to the same gun range and church. And we both like to hunt and fish. And there just ain’t that many people who live here. So most folks know each other. He’s a good guy.”

  Later, they pulled up in front of a small house in the woods. Parked next to it was an enormous Kenworth sleeper cab tractor painted bright blue. Next to the truck was a small, red KIA crossover, and next to that a Dodge pickup with a dented front fender.

  “The big one’s Pat’s ride. Nice.
Like a little apartment inside. He’s on the road a lot, but he’s obviously home now.”

  “Must be pretty hard for his wife with two teens,” noted Blum.

  “Oh, Hazel keeps them in line. But they’re both boys, so you’re right, she has her hands full.”

  Pat Simmons answered the door and had them come into the small living room. It was neat and sparsely furnished. A seventy-inch Sony TV hung on the wall, and Pine saw a glass-fronted gun cabinet with different models of rifles and shotguns and two handguns inside.

  Pat was short and chubby with longish brown hair, and he wore a Kenworth ballcap. His beard was scruffy and his eyes were a dull brown. Hazel Simmons came into the room wiping her hands on a towel. She had on black leggings with a long white T-shirt. She wore no shoes.

  She asked them if they wanted something to drink, but they all declined.

  Roberts introduced Pine and Blum and they sat down.

  “So you’re interested in the folks that used to live here,” said Pat.

  Pine nodded. “Joe and Desiree Atkins.”

  Pat looked at Roberts. “Yeah, I remember that. Guy got murdered, not in the house but out in the woods.”

  “Probably why we got the house so cheap,” added Hazel. “And it’s really not close to anything, grocery stores or hospitals. Both our boys were born in the bedroom. They came too quick to get to the hospital.”

  “That must have been tough,” said Blum.

  “I did it twice. Never do it again,” said Hazel, laughing.

  Pine said, “After you moved in, did you find anything the Atkinses might have left behind?”

  Pat shook his head. “Place was pretty well cleared out. Bank took the furniture and sold it, I guess. Along with the personal effects. There were some pots and pans in the kitchen. Some old clothes that they probably overlooked.”

  “Do you still have the clothes?”

  “No, they long since got donated or thrown in the trash.”

  “Did you ever see anything to indicate that three people might have lived here, including a child?”

  The couple looked at each other. Pat shook his head. “I didn’t. But I wasn’t around much after we moved in. As you can tell from that big-ass truck outside, I drive for a living.”

  Pine looked at Hazel. “How about you?”

  Hazel pursed her lips and rubbed her fingers together. “I can’t think of anything that stuck out. And it was a long time ago. The place needed a lot of TLC. It’s only got two bedrooms, so the boys have to double up. But the previous owners didn’t do a lot to keep the place up, I can tell you that.” She suddenly looked up at Pine. “You know, I do remember something. When we first moved in, there were these drawings on a wall in what’s now the boys’ bedroom.”

  Pine tensed. “What sort of drawings?”

  “They were like you would see a kid do, you know, stick figures. I had forgotten all about them. I painted over them.”

  “Do you remember anything else about them?”

  Hazel mulled over this. “Well, I do remember there were different scenes, I guess you’d call them. You know, the stick figures playing or sitting at a table.” She smiled. “In one drawing they looked like they were drinking out of cups. And there were always two of them, stick figures, I mean. And they had, well, they had long hair, so I guess they were girls. I remember that because back then we didn’t have kids and I always wanted a girl. Didn’t turn out that way.”

  “Maybe they were having a tea party,” said Pine quietly.

  Hazel smiled again. “That could be, sure. I used to have tea parties with my sisters and friends when I was little.”

  “So maybe the little girl stayed in that bedroom?”

  “It could be. By the time we got here, like Pat said, the furniture was gone. I guess you could check with the bank, but I suppose most of those folks are probably no longer there.”

  Pine looked out the window. “Are there any other buildings on the grounds?”

  “Other buildings?” said Pat. “No, just the house. We don’t even have a garage. I’m gonna put in a carport but haven’t gotten around to it. This place wasn’t a farm or anything, so there’s no barn.”

  “There’s the cave,” said a voice.

  They all looked up to see a tall, skinny teenage boy standing in the doorway. He had on baggy jeans, a Nike sweatshirt, and an Auburn ball cap. His long hair hung out from under it.

  Hazel said, “This is our youngest son, Kyle. What cave are you talking about, son?”

  “It’s about a half mile from here. In the woods. It’s cut into a little knoll.” He eyed Pine. “Trey, that’s my brother, and me found it when we were little. We used to play fort and keep some of our stuff there. You know, like a hideout. We would even sneak out and sleep in there.”

  Hazel said in a scolding tone, “Kyle James Simmons sleeping in a cave? That’s not safe. It could have fallen in on you and your brother. Or a bear could have been in there.”

  “No bear could’ve gotten in there.”

  “Why?”

  “Cause it had a really thick door with a lock on it. Me and Trey thought maybe it was an old mine or something. I mean, there was stuff in there.”

  Pine said quickly, “If it had a lock how did you get in?”

  “The padlock was on the ground. It was all busted and rusted. But the door was shut. When we opened it, it smelled all musty and stuff.”

  “And you said there were things in it?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Can you take us there?”

  Kyle looked at his mom, who nodded and said, “Just be careful.”

  “I got a couple of flashlights,” said Pat. “Can I come along, too?”

  Pine was already out of the room and didn’t answer.

  Blum looked at him. “Absolutely.”

  CHAPTER

  74

  KYLE LED THE WAY TO THE CAVE. It seemed to Pine like ten miles instead of a fraction of that. She could feel her heart racing. And she felt light-headed.

  Calm the hell down, Atlee. It won’t help Mercy if you drop dead from a stroke right now.

  They had to pull at some vines and push through some bushes that had grown up on the path they were heading along.

  Kyle explained, “We haven’t come back here in a long time. Guess it kind of grew over.”

  Forcing their way through some more underbrush, they finally reached an old wooden door set into a small hill with ivy growing up all around it. There was an open and rusted padlock hanging from the clasp.

  Kyle said, “When we found this place, the door was busted open. We fixed it up and got a new padlock.”

  Pat Simmons looked it over. “I can’t believe this. All the time we’ve been here and we never knew about this.” He eyed his son. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  He shrugged. “It was me and Trey’s special place, Pops. Then when we stopped using it, we just sort of forgot about it, I guess.”

  Pine impatiently pushed past them and thrust the door open. She turned on her light and entered. The others followed as Pat Simmons used one of his flashlights to help illuminate the way and handed one to Roberts, who did the same.

  The space was small, maybe ten by ten. As Pine ran her light over the room, she saw many things. An old table, some rickety chairs. Boards on cement blocks for shelves. Some empty glass jars, a cracked baseball bat, a rotted sweatshirt, and some old tennis shoes. The floor was made up of sections of plywood that must have been laid right on the dirt, because they were dark with rot. There was the sickly sweet smell of old vegetation and exposed red clay. The walls were the rock and dirt of the hill.

  Pine’s light hit near the back of the room and she froze.

  It was a small cot, though there were no covers on it and the exposed mattress was old and rotted. She turned to Kyle. “Did you and your brother bring the furniture out here, and the bed?”

  “Nope, that was already here. And those makeshift shelves. We found old cans of food and som
e water bottles. We used them for target practice with our .22s.”

  Pine moved around the space, examining every inch.

  She stopped and bent down near the bed.

  Her light hit on a chain that was coiled up under the bed. One end had an open clasp that could be locked with a key. The other end of the chain had been sunk so deeply into the rock wall that Pine could not pull it free.

  Blum came to stand next to her and eyed the chain.

  “My God,” she said quietly.

  Kyle joined them. “Yeah, that was here, too. We thought maybe they kept a dog or some other animal in here.”

  Roberts came to stand on the other side of Pine and said quietly, “Or maybe the girl. Becky.”

  Pine didn’t answer because her light had fallen on something else. It was hanging from a nail driven into the rock. She walked haltingly over to it.

  Sally. It’s been over thirty years since I’ve seen you.

  Pine picked the doll up and gazed down at it. This was Mercy’s doll. It was a twin of the one Pine had owned as a child. Her mother had been looking for it after Mercy had disappeared. At least someone who had known her parents in Andersonville, Georgia, had told her that; her mother had never mentioned it.

  Pine looked down at the large, soft eyes of the doll, whose name was Sally. Pine had named her doll Skeeter, after the character in the Muppet Babies TV series. She had tried to get Mercy to name hers Scooter, because that had been the twin on the TV show. But Mercy wouldn’t hear of it because Scooter was a boy.

  Pine’s features crinkled at the memory, but then she felt like sobbing.

  Kyle said, “Yeah, that was kind of creepy. We thought about getting rid of it, but neither one of us wanted to touch it. It was pretty old and ratty.”

  Roberts said, “You think that belonged to the girl?”

  Pine nodded but said nothing.

  Pat Simmons, who had overheard this, exclaimed, “Wait a minute, are you saying those people kept a little girl out here? What, like chained up and shit?”

 

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