Long Road to Mercy

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Long Road to Mercy Page 11

by David Baldacci


  Priest laid down his fork and fingered his coffee cup. “I’m just a normal guy. I’ve got a wife and kids. Like I said, I go to Disney World on vacation. I coach my son’s Little League baseball team. I’m not equipped to be involved in some crazy international conspiracy thing.”

  “International conspiracy thing? Care to explain?”

  “It’s just a feeling.”

  “You think your brother is, what, a spy?”

  “Middle East, Kazakhstan? A company that doesn’t exist? And now this? It’s hard for me to admit, but I don’t really know my brother at all. At least not his professional side.”

  “But you said you knew your brother was going to go to the Grand Canyon.”

  “Yeah. He phoned and told me about the trip. He’d never done the mule ride. Said it was on his bucket list. He was excited. He’d scheduled it a long time ago. I guess you have to.”

  “You do. And you have no idea how the guy I showed you on my phone ended up going in his place?”

  “No. Are you sure that my brother wasn’t part of the group that went into the Canyon?”

  “I showed the picture you sent me of your brother to the mule wrangler who traveled down to the floor of the Canyon that day. He said your brother was definitely not part of the group. He said there was no one even close to looking like him, even if maybe he was in disguise. Your brother looks to be, what, six three and about one eighty?”

  “That’s right. He got all the height in the family, too,” he added nervously, glancing at Pine’s FBI shield. “But my brother is a good guy. He wouldn’t be involved in anything bad, that I know.”

  “You just told me you didn’t really know your brother at all, at least his professional side.”

  Priest slumped back. “Yeah, I guess I did say that.”

  “So, what were all the voice mails on your phone?”

  “Hang-ups. I finally checked them. They were all from the same number. When I called the number back no one answered.”

  “Can you give me the number? I can check it out.”

  Priest took out his phone and read out the number, and Pine added it to her phone contacts.

  “What are your plans while you’re out here?” she asked.

  “I don’t have any. I flew out here really in a panic. Then I decided to call you. To see what you might suggest.”

  “I’m not sure I have a good answer for you. But you have to understand, Mr. Priest, that if your brother is involved in something serious, you could be in some danger.”

  “Me! Why?”

  “Certain people may assume your brother told you something important. Or by your coming out here they may think your brother communicated with you, and that you flew out here to meet with him.”

  “But no one knows I’m here except you.”

  “Did you book your flight with a credit card?”

  “Well, yes. Of course, I did.”

  “Then you’re in the system. And people who can access the system could know your movements. They could be watching us right now.”

  Priest looked around the restaurant before staring back at her. “Shit, are you serious?”

  “Very serious.”

  “I feel like I’m in a freaking movie. So what do I do now? Should I get a hotel somewhere? Or maybe I can stay with you?”

  Pine pondered this for a few moments. “You can stay at my place at least for tonight, or what’s left of it, until we think of other arrangements.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to be an imposition. And if you’re right and people are watching me, then you could be in danger, too.”

  “I signed on for that when I took the job, Mr. Priest.”

  “Please, just call me Ed. Can I hit the restroom before we leave? With everything going on my stomach’s giving me fits.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll get the check.”

  Pine kept Priest in her periphery as he headed to the restroom, while she went to the woman at the cash register and paid the bill. Later, she led him to her truck and loaded his bag into the back.

  They got on the road and headed back north.

  She checked her watch. It was going on two in the morning. One thing Pine was certain of: She wasn’t going to get a lot of sleep this night.

  CHAPTER

  18

  Pine gave Priest her bedroom and she took the couch in the front room. She had insisted on this. She lay down on the couch and closed her eyes. The dawn was not that far off.

  She estimated it was about thirty minutes later when she heard the noise for the first time. A bump, a footstep, a squeak of door or window. Or something else.

  Her fingers closed around her pistol as she blinked rapidly to adjust her eyes to the low levels of light.

  The tick-tock of the kitchen clock echoed in her head as she listened for the sounds to resume. When they did, she rolled quietly off the couch and laid the two pillows out lengthwise, covering them with the blanket she’d had over her. She next slid along the hardwood floor to a far corner of the room, crouched there, and took aim with her pistol. With her free hand, she reached to her left.

  Tick-tock, tick-tock.

  Then squeak, then steps.

  She kept her gun trained on a certain spot across the room.

  The figure appeared in the doorway and then hurried over to the couch.

  The silhouette of a gun was pointed at the couch. It remained there for a few seconds, the hand holding it shaking precipitously. Then the gun was lowered, and the figure stepped back and started to turn away.

  With her free hand, Pine hit the light switch.

  The figure jumped back.

  “Put the gun down and lie on the floor facedown with your hands over your head, fingers interlaced, and your feet spread. Do it now or I will shoot you.”

  Ed Priest did exactly as Pine had ordered.

  His every limb quaking, he set the pistol down, got on the floor, and put his hands behind his head, his legs spread-eagled. He started to quietly sob.

  Pine rose and walked over to him, picked up the pistol and set it down on the coffee table.

  She sat on the couch and looked down at the man.

  “How . . . how did you know?” asked Priest, his cheeks wet with tears.

  “You made it easy. One, you’re a really bad liar. I had training on that at the FBI. But I didn’t really need it. When I asked who had called you all those times and you said you had called them back but no one answered, you showed every sign of lying. And I called the number you gave me. It’s not in service. And then there were all the furtive glances you gave me at the IHOP. And your suitcase. That was the real giveaway.”

  “My suitcase!”

  “It has a CAGPT sticker on it. That stands for ‘check and give protection to.’ It’s what they do with valuable or fragile instruments. And also, it’s what they sticker a case with that has a gun inside. But I knew for certain you had a gun in there, because the airline had zip-tied it, probably at the point of destination. It’s a procedure they started to use after the Fort Lauderdale shooting. One zip tie for a pistol, two for a rifle. Yours has one, hence, a pistol. And in addition to that, your suitcase is easily small enough to be a carry-on. But you had to check it, as evidenced by the baggage claim sticker on the handle. Again, because you can’t carry a gun on a plane. So why would a seemingly mild-mannered CPA be carrying a gun with him? Except maybe to use on the first person he called when he landed in Arizona? When you quickly suggested that you might stay with me, that sort of sealed it.”

  “If you knew all that, why didn’t you just arrest me?”

  “Simple. You hadn’t done anything illegal. You can carry a gun in a suitcase. You can carry a concealed weapon in Arizona. I needed to see what you were going to do with it. When you made your intentions clear, so did I.” She paused. “The question is why. You are Ed Priest with the accounting practice and family and Disney World vacations and all that. You’re not some government assassin or mafia hit man.”
<
br />   “So you checked on me?”

  “Of course I checked on you. I don’t believe anyone unless I can verify it. Now do you want to get off the floor, sit in that chair, and tell me why you just tried to kill me?”

  Priest gingerly got to his feet and plopped heavily into the chair across from her. He was still dressed in his traveling clothes.

  “I was telling you the truth when I said I called the number back. But I was lying when I said no one had answered. They must have taken it out of service after they talked to me last.”

  “What did they tell you?”

  “That if I didn’t fly out here and kill you, my wife and my kids were dead.”

  “And you believed them?”

  “They also sent me photos of my wife out shopping, my kids at school. They were obviously watching them.”

  Pine thought about this. Why send this guy to do the dirty deed? Whoever was behind this couldn’t come up with a pro to do the hit on me? “Why did they say I had to die?”

  “Because you were investigating my brother’s disappearance.”

  “And did they say why your brother had disappeared?”

  Priest hesitated. “No, not really, but I knew it was serious.”

  “As serious as murdering a federal agent? That can get you the death penalty.”

  “My family means more to me than my own life,” barked Priest. He slowly calmed. “But I couldn’t pull the trigger. I . . . I guess I’m not a killer.”

  “Clearly not. I was watching you.”

  “So what happens to me now? Am I going to prison?”

  “I saw you weren’t going to actually kill me. But when they find out you didn’t pull the trigger, they’re not going to be happy with you.”

  Priest buried his face in his hands and started sobbing heavily. “Oh my God, my family. I’ve killed my family.”

  “That we can take care of. I’ll have them placed in protective custody until we figure out what the hell is going on.”

  Priest stopped crying and looked up at her. “You . . . you can do that?”

  “But in return you need to help me.”

  “But how? I don’t know anything.”

  “You may know more than you think. And right now, you’re the best lead I have.”

  “So how do we proceed?”

  “I make the call to take care of your family. And though it’s nearly morning, I suggest we get some sleep. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”

  “I’m really sorry about all this, Agent Pine.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time someone wanted to murder me.”

  He let out a sharp breath. “Jesus, I don’t know how you do a job like that.”

  “Funny, it’s the only job I’ve ever wanted to do.”

  CHAPTER

  19

  Your family is in an FBI safe house back in Maryland,” Pine told Priest over coffee in her kitchen later that morning.

  “How did you explain that to them?”

  “You mean how did I explain your involvement in all this?”

  “Yes, I guess I do.”

  “I know how to word these things, Ed. You can breathe a little easier, at least for right now.”

  “So, what do we do?”

  “We need to find your brother, for starters.”

  “But how?”

  “You have his contact info?”

  “Of course. And I’ve left dozens of messages. He hasn’t returned any of them.”

  “Maybe we need to rephrase your messages.”

  Priest’s jaw slid lower. “What do you mean?”

  “Call him and leave a message that says your family has been threatened and that you’re being blackmailed into attempting to murder a federal agent. You desperately need his help because you don’t know what to do, but you’re seriously thinking of pulling the trigger. Tell him he has a half hour to get back to you before you do the deed.”

  Priest simply stared at Pine for a few moments. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m so serious that if you don’t do it right now while I’m sitting here, I’m going to arrest you for the attempted murder of me.”

  “I thought you were trying to help me.”

  Pine shook her head. “I never said that. My job is to find the truth. I will go over and through anybody to get there, including you and your brother.”

  Priest closed his eyes and rubbed his brow with a shaky hand, covering his face.

  Pine pulled his hand away. “You’ve got to step up now, Ed. No time to hide. Take out your phone and make the call.”

  Priest punched in the number.

  “Put it on speakerphone.”

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “Do I really need to answer that question? You came here to put a bullet in my head.”

  Priest put the phone on speaker.

  A voice came on. “This is Ben. Leave me a message. I’ll do my best to get back to you.”

  Pine nodded at Priest, who left his message, following her instructions to the letter. Then she hit the End button and looked across at him.

  “And now?” he said.

  “And now we wait for thirty minutes.”

  “And if he doesn’t call back?”

  “Then you cross the Rubicon. I’ll have to take you in.”

  Priest frowned. “Look, it’s just my word against yours that I came here to kill you.”

  Pine took out her phone and hit some keys.

  Priest’s voice came on, explaining why he had come there to kill Pine.

  “You recorded it all?” said Priest.

  “Of course I did. This is the big leagues, Ed. You want to survive this, you need to up your game.”

  “I didn’t ask for any of this shit to be dropped in my lap,” he replied testily.

  “Don’t blame me, blame your brother. If he calls back in thirty minutes, you’re going to arrange to meet him. And I’ll be going along for the ride.”

  “But we have no idea where he is.”

  “Which is why we’re waiting for him to tell us.”

  Pine fell silent and sat back. Priest looked immensely anxious. But he, too, didn’t speak.

  Until twenty-eight minutes later when his phone rang.

  Priest glanced at Pine, who nodded.

  She said, “Don’t put it on speaker—he might get suspicious.” “What do I say?”

  “Act natural. You’re pissed, confused, and you want to hear the truth.”

  Priest answered the phone and held it to his ear while Pine leaned in close to listen.

  “Hello?”

  “Eddie?”

  Priest blurted out, “Ben, where the hell have you been? What is going on? My whole life just came crashing down around me.”

  “Just calm down, big brother. It’ll be okay. But please tell me you haven’t killed a federal agent.”

  “Not yet. But Mary and the kids.”

  “They’ll be okay.”

  “You don’t know that!”

  Pine tapped Priest on the arm and put a finger to her lips. She mouthed the words Let him talk.

  Priest fell silent. A moment later his brother started speaking. “You were never supposed to be involved in any of this, Eddie, I’m sorry. It got out of hand.”

  “What did?”

  “I can’t talk about it, not over the phone.”

  Pine touched Priest on the shoulder again, pointed at him and then at the phone.

  Priest said, “Then we have to meet. You can tell it to me face-to-face.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Arizona. Near the Grand Canyon where you were supposed to have disappeared. That’s why I flew out. Where are you?”

  “Not that far away, actually.”

  “Where do you want to meet?”

  “There’s a hotel at the Grand Canyon, on the South Rim. El Tovar.”

  Pine looked at Priest and nodded.

  “Okay, I’m sure I can find it.”

  “We can
meet there tonight, for dinner. You can make the reservation under your name. Make it for later. Nine o’clock. Just so you know, I . . . I won’t look like myself.”

  “Have you been hurt?”

  “No, I mean I’ll be in disguise.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Does anyone know you’re here?”

  “No, I told no one.”

  “Nine o’clock then at El Tovar. I’ll explain what I can then.”

  Before Priest could say anything, the line went dead.

  He clicked off the phone and set it down. As though he’d been holding his breath, Priest blew air out of his mouth and slumped back in the chair.

  Pine rose from her chair and poured another cup of coffee.

  “So, we do nothing until tonight?” he said.

  “You do nothing until tonight. I have things to accomplish.”

  “Do I just stay here then?”

  “You do, but not by yourself. I’m having a local buddy of mine come over to look after you.”

  “You mean to make sure I don’t hightail it out of here.”

  “That’s one way of looking at it. He’s a retired cop. A Hopi police ranger. The Hopis are traditionally known as respectful of the Earth and peace-loving. But you try anything with my friend and he’ll lay your ass out so fast, you won’t know what hit you.”

  “Thanks a lot,” snarled Priest.

  “You’re welcome, a lot.”

  CHAPTER

  20

  The El Tovar Hotel had opened in 1905 and was located at the Grand Canyon’s South Rim. Named after an early Spanish explorer, it was one of a chain of hotels originally owned and operated by the Fred Harvey Company. It was only twenty feet from the rim of the Canyon and constructed in a rustic style using Oregon pine and local limestone. There was a pyramidal roof, turrets, verandas, dorms, and gables. The interior was a mash-up of the arts and crafts movement, southwestern Indian design, and Swiss-inspired woodwork. The rear dining room had sweeping views of the canyon beyond.

  Ed Priest walked up the broad front steps into the hotel. It was a minute after nine o’clock, but it was still quite warm outside, even though the sun had long since melted into the west.

  He walked swiftly through the lobby and to the dining room at the rear.

 

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