table. He laid a three-ring binder notebook down in front of him. His suit and shirt were heavily wrinkled, and his dark eye pouches told of little sleep.
“We got an ID on the victim,” he said, yawning.
“Who is she?” said Pine.
Wallis flipped open his notebook. “Hanna Rebane. Your instincts were right. She is Eastern European, from Estonia.”
“What’s her story?”
“She’s got a lengthy record, drugs, solicitation, petty thefts. Nothing too serious. Almost no jail time, just fines and some community service. And one led to the other, probably. To pay for her addiction she was engaged in prostitution. It’s the old story.”
“Or else someone got her hooked on drugs and forced her into turning tricks,” said Pine. “That’s the new ‘old story.’”
“But how did she get here?” Blum asked. “Was she plying her trade?”
Wallis studied his notes. “No, I don’t think that’s the case. Somebody would have seen her. And her priors were from Atlanta and Charlotte and one over in Asheville. I’m running down her last known address.”
“So she headed further south at some point,” said Pine. “I wonder why. Or maybe it wasn’t her choice.”
“Meaning the killer picked her up from one of those areas and brought her here.”
Pine nodded. “And if he did he must have kept her somewhere, either alive or dead, before we found the body. Anything else?”
Wallis passed the notebook to Blum. “DMV photos of the men in the area for your friend to look at. Just put an X under the ones you remember seeing at the restaurant that night.”
“Will do.”
Wallis looked at Pine. “How’s your ‘other’ investigation coming?”
“Slowly. Not unexpected, after all these years.”
“You need anything from me, just let me know.”
“I appreciate that.”
“When I get Rebane’s last known address, I’ll let you know. If you want to tag along?”
“Yes, we do.”
After he left, Pine stared absently out the window.
“Can I afford to hear your thoughts on a government salary?” asked Blum.
“I’m not sure they’re worth the price.”
“Try me?”
“Agnes Ridley, Lauren Graham, Dave Bartles, Jack Lineberry, and the Pringles. All of them lived around here when I did. We’ve spoken to them all. And we’ve learned some things that have been helpful, but we have a long way to go.”
“Well, it’s early days yet. We’ve really just started. And you did have that epiphany about the reflection in the mirror. And you learned new details about your father’s death from Jack Lineberry.”
“Yes, I did,” said Pine in a bitter tone. “If Lineberry is telling the truth, and I have no reason to doubt him, my mother lied to me.”
“She may have had her reasons, Agent Pine. I don’t think most mothers would lie to their kids unless they had a very good reason.”
“Well, I wish I could ask her what it was.”
“You really have no idea where she is?”
Pine shook her head. “I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”
“Surely, if anything had happened to her you would have been contacted.”
“Not if she didn’t tell anyone about me.”
Blum stared over at her boss with a look of trepidation. “Ridley mentioned letting sleeping dogs lie. Did that spook you? I thought it might have from your expression.”
Pine nodded. “Maybe more than I care to admit. Especially after my ‘revelation.’”
“Do you want to elaborate on what’s really bothering you?”
Pine leaned forward, her hands clasped on the table, her gaze downcast.
“If my father…”
“…had something to do with what happened, you mean? Because now you believe the intruder came from inside the house?”
Pine nodded but didn’t look up.
“Well, either you want to know what really happened or you don’t. We can go home now if it’s the latter. But what will that mean for you going forward? Will you be seeing Daniel Tor in every suspect you confront from now on?”
“I don’t know, which is reason enough to keep going to find the truth.” Pine glanced at the notebook. “Why don’t you take that up to your room and go through it.”
“And what will you do?”
“I’m going to take another walk down memory lane.”
* * *
Rain was coming. Pine could feel it in the temperature dropping and the wind picking up. She had on a weatherproof jacket with a hood, so the prospect of inclement weather didn’t trouble her. She kept walking along the main strip of Andersonville as the skies darkened.
When it started to sprinkle, Pine made her way back to the spot.
The memory lane she had mentioned was actually quite a recent one.
She stopped and eyed the spot where the body of Hanna Rebane had