asked for my help and I agreed to give it.”
“So, no names off the top of your head of people who still live around here who might have known the Pines?” asked Blum.
“There is one,” said Graham after a few moments of thought. “Jackson Lineberry.”
“Name doesn’t ring a bell,” said Pine.
“He was more your dad’s friend, I believe.”
“Where does he live?”
“About an hour from here. Due north towards Atlanta. He has a beautiful home, well, an estate really. Probably the nicest in the area. He’s very wealthy. Has his own jet.”
“What does he do to make that kind of money?” asked Pine.
“Investments. He moved away for a while and then came back.”
They got his address and contact information from her. Pine thanked Graham and asked her to let them know if she thought of anyone else. The woman promised that she would.
They climbed into the rental and headed out after Pine called Lineberry and set up an appointment.
“What did you learn from your search?” Pine asked Blum.
“I accessed the ViCAP database through the secure link like you asked me to,” she said, referring to the FBI’s Violent Criminal Apprehension Program. “I fed in the details that we know currently. There have been other serial killers that have dressed their victims in particular clothing, but nothing that quite matches what we have.”
“Hopefully, we get an ID on the victim soon. That could give us some leads.”
Blum looked out the truck window as they drove north toward Lineberry’s home.
“So you really think that you actually saw the man’s reflection in the mirror and not him coming through the window?”
“I can’t be certain, but I think it’s more likely than not.”
“But it was so long ago, and you were so young.”
“That memory was seared into me, Carol.”
“But for all these years you had thought he had come in through the window,” said Blum.
“I know,” conceded Pine. “I think it was triggered by my being in the room again. I should have come back here a long time ago. I don’t know why I didn’t.”
“It was terrible what happened here. Most people would not want to revisit it.”
“I’m not most people. I’m an FBI agent. I run toward the problem, not away.”
“But still.”
They drove along in silence for a few moments.
“Why Andersonville?” she asked.
Pine glanced at her. “Why not Andersonville? Serial killers have struck in rural areas before. They’re not restricted to urban or suburban locations.”
“Well, it’s easier to evade capture with lots of people around.”
“But there are a lot more law-enforcement resources in the metro areas. If I’m a serial killer, do I want to go up against the NYPD with all it can do and cameras everywhere, or come to a place like this that doesn’t have those assets?”
“I see your point, but there’s something else that’s worrying me.”
“What?”
“Was it a coincidence, or cause and effect?”
Pine gave her a sharp look. “What are you talking about?”
“Was it a coincidence that a dead body turned up the day after you arrived in town? Or did it happen because you came back to Andersonville?” Blum looked worriedly at Pine.
“You’re saying my coming here to investigate my sister’s disappearance may have triggered what happened to that woman?”
“I’m only saying it’s a possibility. But otherwise, it seems a strange coincidence.”
Pine slowly shook her head. “That would require a lot of planning in a very short period of time, including selecting a victim and committing the murder.”
“I guess that is unrealistic,” conceded Blum, with a sense of relief.
Pine glanced at her again. “And are you also thinking that maybe whoever took my sister killed that woman?”
“Well, I admit it did cross my mind.”
Pine shook her head. “No way.”
“So you don’t believe this murder and your sister’s disappearance are connected?”
“It’s been thirty years. Serial killers almost never operate that long. Most retire in their forties if not before.”
“Most, not all. And some take a hiatus before becoming active again.”
“Thirty years would be an extraordinarily long hiatus.”
“But not impossible.”
“Let’s listen to what Lineberry has to say before we run off in other directions.”
“All right.”
After a while, Blum said, “How does it feel being back?”
“So far, it sucks.”
Chapter 15
SHE WASN’T KIDDING about this guy being in the money,” exclaimed Blum.
“It’s like something you might see in Bel Air, or Montecito, California.”
The property was gated and made mostly of stone, and it looked to be about the size of a shopping mall but with far greater sophistication in the materials and design.
Pine pulled up to the gate and rolled down the