A Minute to Midnight - David Baldacci Page 0,117

I’m that way with everyone.”

They drank the wine on one of the outdoor terraces that covered three sides of the apartment. They sat in a pair of upholstered wicker chairs around a glass table. The breeze was warm and lightly lifted Pine’s loose tresses. Large potted plants abounded around the terrace, and there was even a small putting green. Overhead they watched a line of planes heading to or from Atlanta Hartsfield, the aircraft lights winking in the distance like a string of airborne Christmas lights.

“This is really quite something, Jack. You’ve done well.” She held up her glass. “Here’s to being really rich and successful, and also a nice guy.” Her face crinkled with a smile. “I’m sure you know that’s not always the case.”

“I do indeed. But all of this means nothing if you have no one to share it with.”

“So you never found the right person?”

Lineberry refilled his glass and topped off hers. “No, I did.”

Pine slowly put her wine down. “Who are we talking about?”

“I think you already know that, Lee.”

She settled back in her chair. “How long were you in love with my mother?”

“Just take today’s date and subtract it from the first moment I met her.”

“But she was married, with two kids,” said Pine.

“You’re assuming that I first met her in Andersonville.”

“That’s what you told me.”

“No, I never said we met there,” he responded, shaking his head.

“So where did you meet my parents?”

“I met your mother first. I met Tim later, when he came on the scene.”

“Wait a minute. Are you saying you knew my mother before she met my father?”

“Yes.”

“Where? How?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Bullshit,” she snapped angrily. “You can’t start to go down that road and then stop.”

“If it were my call, I would continue to go down that road, but it’s not.”

“Whose call is it?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Then why the hell did you even start this conversation?”

“Because you asked how long I had been in love with your mother. And I thought now was a good time to answer that question. In fact, that’s why I suggested we come here after dinner.”

“But why?”

“Because I might not get another chance to explain.”

“I don’t understand any of this. Wait a minute—if you knew my mother before she came to Andersonville, that means you followed her down here.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“It was my responsibility.”

“What was? How does responsibility figure into this?”

“What did your mother tell you about her past?”

“It doesn’t matter, since it’s all a lie.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’m an investigator. I find out things.”

Pine opened her purse and took out something. It was one of the bar coasters that her father had given her. She laid it on the table so he could see it.

Lineberry showed no visible reaction to it. He merely sipped his wine and looked out over the city.

“So are you clamming up now?” she said. “You said you brought me here to explain things.”

“No, I’m not clamming up, just thinking before I speak. I like to do that. It prevents me from making a fool of myself.”

Pine’s expression softened and so did her tone. “Why would you be at risk of doing that?”

“Every person is at risk of doing precisely that at some point in their lives. I’m no exception to that.”

Pine set her wine down. “Are you being cryptic on purpose or what?”

“Your mother could have told you everything,” he said suddenly, the tone of his words tighter and harder than before. “The fact that she chose not to do so precludes me from betraying any confidences. I respect her far too much to do that. I hope you can understand that, Lee. And if you can’t…well, then, you’re not the person I thought you were.”

Pine looked taken aback by this for a few moments. She picked up her wineglass.

“Okay, I guess I can understand that.” She glanced at the coaster. “I had a buddy of mine dig into the Cloak and Dagger Bar.”

“Did you? And?”

“And it wasn’t really a bar. It was a counterintelligence operation.”

“No, not exactly.”

She sat back and looked at him in amazement. “Then you were involved? So what was it?”

“Lee…”

“Please, Jack, I really need to understand this. It’s my family. I have a right to know the truth. It’s been thirty years. It’s time, don’t you see that?”

He considered this and finally nodded. “As you said, you’re a trained investigator. So, let’s harken back to New York City in the early to mid-1980s. What could come to mind in the way of a sting

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