too.
Neagley was at the center of it all.
Somehow, Reacher was, too.
And Neagley knew precisely how Reacher was involved. Kim was sure of it. But how to make Neagley confess was a knottier problem than Kim could solve based on what she’d learned so far, which was precisely nothing.
Only two people within immediate striking distance possessed more information than Kim already had. Neagley, who had disappeared inside her office fortress, unlikely to either emerge or cooperate when she eventually resurfaced.
And Neagley’s standing guard, stationed fifteen feet away in the 10th floor corridor. Already moving in that direction, Kim glanced at Gaspar and said, “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Friday, November 12
6:37 p.m.
Chicago, IL
The security guard was still standing in the hallway at the exterior door to Neagley’s offices, as he had been each time Kim had approached today. He appeared as unruffled and fresh as the first time she’d passed him this morning.
“You have the advantage. You know who we are,” Kim said by way of opening.
The tall man said, “FBI Special Agents Otto and Gaspar, yes.”
“What’s your name?”
His lips turned up in a slight smile.
Kim waited a beat before she said, “Are you refusing to identify yourself to Federal agents?”
His smile broadened.
Gaspar said, “You aren’t required to tell us your name.”
He said, “I know.”
Gaspar said, “But I’m suspicious about why you won’t. So suspicious, in fact, that you might be obstructing justice here, simply by refusing to cooperate in a federal investigation.”
“Possibly,” he said. “What is it you’re investigating, exactly?”
“Murder. Kidnapping.”
“Guess I didn’t realize murder was the FBI’s beat these days. Thought you folks were more interested in terrorism and such.”
Kim said, “We’re talking about your job, not ours. What exactly is your job?”
“You’ve observed me in the performance of my duties several times today, haven’t you? My job is to remain stationed right here.”
“Why?”
“You met Paul Neagley? He escapes. I’m the guy who finds him and brings him back.”
“Not much of a job for a former member of the Secret Service,” Kim said.
His eyes opened a little wider. He grinned, but didn’t bother to deny she’d guessed correctly. “The pay is better and I don’t have to take a bullet for politicians who can’t find their butts with both hands.”
“So what’s your name? It won’t take me long to find out.”
“Probably not.”
“And then I’ll have to come back and have this conversation again.”
“I’ll be here.”
“What happened in there? A guy is dead.”
“Paramedics said heart attack.” He shrugged. “That guy looked a little stressed when he came in, didn’t he? If he needed to hire my boss, he already had big problems before he got here. Stress must have been too much for him.”
“What about Paul’s arm? Looked like a gunshot wound to me. I smelled a recently fired weapon, too.”
“I didn’t hear any gunshots.”
“What was the dead man’s name?”
“I don’t know.”
“What about the woman that was with him?”
“What about her?”
“Did you see her leave?”
“Of course. I was standing right here.”
“Did she have a gun?”
“I didn’t frisk her.”
“What was her name?”
“I didn’t ask. Look, my orders are to stand here. If Paul gets away, I’m to chase him down and bring him back. That’s it. I’m not introduced to clients. I’m not tasked with identifying, scrutinizing, interrogating or remembering them.”
“That’s a little odd for a man with your training, isn’t it?”
“Makes my job easier. Besides, visitors don’t necessarily know my orders. Maybe they think my job is more expansive. So they don’t mess with me much.”
“What time does Frances Neagley normally leave for the day?
“Can’t say. She leaves through the back. There’s a secure parking
Neagley was at the center of it all.
Somehow, Reacher was, too.
And Neagley knew precisely how Reacher was involved. Kim was sure of it. But how to make Neagley confess was a knottier problem than Kim could solve based on what she’d learned so far, which was precisely nothing.
Only two people within immediate striking distance possessed more information than Kim already had. Neagley, who had disappeared inside her office fortress, unlikely to either emerge or cooperate when she eventually resurfaced.
And Neagley’s standing guard, stationed fifteen feet away in the 10th floor corridor. Already moving in that direction, Kim glanced at Gaspar and said, “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Friday, November 12
6:37 p.m.
Chicago, IL
The security guard was still standing in the hallway at the exterior door to Neagley’s offices, as he had been each time Kim had approached today. He appeared as unruffled and fresh as the first time she’d passed him this morning.
“You have the advantage. You know who we are,” Kim said by way of opening.
The tall man said, “FBI Special Agents Otto and Gaspar, yes.”
“What’s your name?”
His lips turned up in a slight smile.
Kim waited a beat before she said, “Are you refusing to identify yourself to Federal agents?”
His smile broadened.
Gaspar said, “You aren’t required to tell us your name.”
He said, “I know.”
Gaspar said, “But I’m suspicious about why you won’t. So suspicious, in fact, that you might be obstructing justice here, simply by refusing to cooperate in a federal investigation.”
“Possibly,” he said. “What is it you’re investigating, exactly?”
“Murder. Kidnapping.”
“Guess I didn’t realize murder was the FBI’s beat these days. Thought you folks were more interested in terrorism and such.”
Kim said, “We’re talking about your job, not ours. What exactly is your job?”
“You’ve observed me in the performance of my duties several times today, haven’t you? My job is to remain stationed right here.”
“Why?”
“You met Paul Neagley? He escapes. I’m the guy who finds him and brings him back.”
“Not much of a job for a former member of the Secret Service,” Kim said.
His eyes opened a little wider. He grinned, but didn’t bother to deny she’d guessed correctly. “The pay is better and I don’t have to take a bullet for politicians who can’t find their butts with both hands.”
“So what’s your name? It won’t take me long to find out.”
“Probably not.”
“And then I’ll have to come back and have this conversation again.”
“I’ll be here.”
“What happened in there? A guy is dead.”
“Paramedics said heart attack.” He shrugged. “That guy looked a little stressed when he came in, didn’t he? If he needed to hire my boss, he already had big problems before he got here. Stress must have been too much for him.”
“What about Paul’s arm? Looked like a gunshot wound to me. I smelled a recently fired weapon, too.”
“I didn’t hear any gunshots.”
“What was the dead man’s name?”
“I don’t know.”
“What about the woman that was with him?”
“What about her?”
“Did you see her leave?”
“Of course. I was standing right here.”
“Did she have a gun?”
“I didn’t frisk her.”
“What was her name?”
“I didn’t ask. Look, my orders are to stand here. If Paul gets away, I’m to chase him down and bring him back. That’s it. I’m not introduced to clients. I’m not tasked with identifying, scrutinizing, interrogating or remembering them.”
“That’s a little odd for a man with your training, isn’t it?”
“Makes my job easier. Besides, visitors don’t necessarily know my orders. Maybe they think my job is more expansive. So they don’t mess with me much.”
“What time does Frances Neagley normally leave for the day?
“Can’t say. She leaves through the back. There’s a secure parking
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