No Way Back(Jack McNeal #1)(6)

Thirty minutes later, McNeal watched two men wearing raincoats dash into the building. His instincts told him that these people were from the government. Franzen, eating a doughnut, escorted the men through the offices. He pointed them to McNeal’s desk.

The men approached, taking off their coats.

“Jack McNeal?” the heavyset man said.

“Yeah.”

The guy flashed a Diplomatic Security Service ID badge. He shook McNeal’s hand, as did his colleague. “We’ve got some questions, if you don’t mind.”

McNeal shrugged. “At this time of night? Must be serious.”

“It is. We’d prefer to talk in private.”

McNeal brought them to an empty conference room adjacent to the control room. Diplomatic Security Service specialized in protecting diplomats. It was the federal law enforcement and security arm of the State Department. They also investigated visa and passport fraud. Was this in connection to a case he was working on? Had a diplomat or his family had a run-in with a cop under investigation? In all his years on the force, he’d had no dealings with them.

He flicked on the lights as the two men pulled up a seat each. McNeal remained standing. “So, what’s this all about?”

The heavyset guy nodded as his mustached colleague settled into his seat. “Appreciate your time, coming in at this hour.” His voice was a whisper, as if he was worried about being overheard. “We’ve had a very busy day. Sorry we couldn’t give you a heads-up about this.”

McNeal looked at his watch. “You guys want to get to the point? I’ve been up since five yesterday morning.”

The thickset Diplomatic Security guy stared at him. “Join the club. Jack, you’re a difficult man to track down. We have your address as Westport, Connecticut. We headed up there earlier.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a house there. It’s on the market.”

The agent grimaced. “Explains a lot. So, where are you living?”

“Got a small apartment in the Village. If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you got to the point. Lot of stuff going on here at the moment.”

“What sort of stuff?” The sentence hung in the air like an insinuation.

“Court stuff, emails, internal investigations. It’s been crazy here for a few months. No letup. Backlogs like you wouldn’t believe.”

The agent nodded as his colleague just stared. “I get it. Not enough hours in the day, right?”

“Precisely.”

“When was the last time you spoke to your wife, Jack?”

McNeal took a few moments to let the question sink in. “My wife? Is she okay?”

“When was the last time you spoke to your wife?”

“What the hell kind of a question is that?”

“It’s a simple question, Jack.”

McNeal’s ulcer began to burn. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. You’re talking about my wife, Caroline McNeal?”

“Caroline McNeal, that’s right. Can you answer the question, Jack?”

“As soon as you tell me why you want to know that.”

The heavyset guy sighed. “Let me spell it out for you. You know how this works, Jack. We just want you to answer the question. When was the last time you spoke to your wife?”

“What happened? Stop fucking around.”

“Your wife has access to various buildings on Capitol Hill. Government buildings. Doesn’t she?”

McNeal pulled up a chair and sat down across from them.

“She has what we call a hard pass,” the agent explained.

“Okay.”

“Access-all-areas type of thing.”

“She’s a political journalist. Sure. What’s this all about? Are we talking leaks? She messed up protocol for her card? Is that what you want to find out?”

The mustached man sighed. “Jack, this isn’t easy.”

“Spit it out.”

“Would it surprise you to learn that Caroline hasn’t been to work for the past five days?”

Jack took a few moments to think about that. That didn’t sound like his wife. “Seriously?”

“Not like her, I assume.”

McNeal detected a cold tone in the question. “Is she sick? Maybe she’s on vacation?”

“You don’t know?”

“No, I don’t.”

The agent rubbed his mustache and leaned forward, hands clasped. “That’s a bit strange. You’re her husband, and you don’t know where she is.”

McNeal’s mind began to race, imagining that something had happened to Caroline. Despite their separation, her disappearing for any length of time without telling him wasn’t like her at all.

“She works in DC, and you work in New York. But you’re married, right?”

“We’re separated. Have been for over a year.”

The heavyset man scribbled down some notes on a legal pad. “Just so you know, we’re treating this as a missing person case. Possession of a White House hard pass is strictly monitored and regulated.”

“I get that.”

“She’s not at work. She’s not at her place in Georgetown.”

McNeal’s stomach tightened.

“We’d like you to come with us, Jack.”