remember them. I was older. They would be closer to your age. Britta was nice enough, but they didn’t come into town much. If she worked, I don’t recall where. Most women in Andersonville back then were either stay-at-homes or else they had part-time work.”
“If their kids were my age, I suppose we would have played with them. I vaguely recall some kids coming over from time to time.”
“Well, it’s not surprising you don’t really remember. You were so little. But they lived the closest to you. It was that little green-and-white house on the road to your place. Last house you see before you got to where you lived. It was still a hike between the houses. Over a mile or so.”
Pine thought back, but there were no firm memories of either the house or the Pringle family.
Blum said, “Well, I guess we’ll find out when we see them.”
They finished their meal and about a half hour later climbed into the rental and set off.
“Hoping for a big breakthrough with the Pringles?” asked Blum.
“These cases are almost never solved that way. It’s baby steps all the way. But if a big breakthrough comes our way, I won’t say no to it.”
Chapter 17
OKAY, IF I WERE GOING TO SHOOT a horror slasher film, I think I just found the perfect location,” said Blum.
They had turned down a gravel road that turned and twisted along, the whole path darkened by the overhang of old oaks draped in Spanish moss that created the sensation of being in a tunnel. The sunlight was mostly blocked out. They were back in Macon County, about a forty-five-minute drive from Andersonville.
“I guess this is why Graham didn’t know they were back. This is pretty far from town. I doubt they ever come to Andersonville at all.”
“You really don’t remember anything about them?” asked Blum.
Pine shook her head. “But we’re about to find out.”
The oak tunnel ended but the sun was still obscured by a grouping of other trees clustered around the house that had been revealed when they passed a final curve.
“Well, I never would have guessed this is what we would have found back here,” said Blum. “I was thinking it would be more like the House of Usher.”
The home was large, new, and contemporary in design, with lots of metal and glass.
“Looks like something you’d see a tech mogul build in Palo Alto,” commented Pine as she slowed the SUV and then pulled to a stop in front of the house.
They got out and looked around.
“See anyone?” asked Blum.
“No. No cars, either, but the garage might be around back.”
“Can I help you?” said the voice.
They turned to look around for the person.
“Can I help you?” said the voice again.
The sound seemed to be coming from the front door.
“They must have one of those video security systems,” said Pine. They stepped up to the front door and Pine held up her badge. “I’m FBI Special Agent Atlee Pine. Jack Lineberry gave me your address. I think you knew my parents, Tim and Julia Pine?”
The voice said nothing back. Pine looked at Blum.
“Did I say something wrong?”
The front door opened and an attractive woman in her fifties stepped out. She was of medium height with dyed blond hair cut short accentuating her long neck. She was fit and trim and stylishly dressed in black slacks, shoes with a chunky heel, and a pale blue blouse with a light sweater over it. Even from here they could see the chunk of diamond on her ring finger.
“Lee Pine? Is that really you?”
“It’s really me.”
“My God, I never would have recognized you,” said the woman.
“You’re Britta Pringle?”
“Yes, I am. I guess you don’t remember me, you were so young.”
“This is my assistant, Carol Blum.”
They all shook hands.
Blum noted, “Beautiful home you have here. I…I wasn’t expecting anything like—”
“—like this out in the boonies?” said Britta with a weary smile. “Who would? It’s my husband’s design. He’s Silicon Valley. I’m more of a Cape Cod girl.”
Britta looked up into Pine’s face and smiled. “I certainly see your mother in there. And just a bit of Tim, too, in the cheekbones.”
This threw Pine off her stride. During interviews with potential witnesses, she had her agenda and her protocols and she always stuck to them, adding in the possibility of flexibility with the script depending on the subject and how things went. But she had to remind herself, this was not like any other investigation she’d ever pursued.