Дэвид Балдаччи - King and Maxwell

Kathy gave him a shy smile, collected her bag, and started to walk off.

“I hope you can help Tyler,” she said.

“We will help him,” replied Michelle.

After she left Sean turned to Michelle. He said, “Okay, we learned a lot, but not much that was actually helpful.”

“What’s bugging me is why leave the Army one year short of getting your full pension? I mean, who does that?”

“Well, whoever does it has to have an awfully good reason. And with Wingo it can’t be because of disciplinary problems,” observed Sean.

“Right. He was in the reserves and they sent him back over there so it wasn’t like he’d screwed up or gotten a bad-conduct discharge.”

She looked over at the doorway and stiffened.

“Okay, this is about to get a little dicey.”

Sean looked at the door.

Two men in military uniforms were standing there. They spotted Sean and Michelle and started walking toward them. And both men were armed.

“WOULD YOU TWO LIKE SOME COFFEE?” asked Sean as the uniforms stopped in front of their table. “It’s cold out there. Almost as cold as it’s gotten in here.”

“Sean King and Michelle Maxwell?” asked one of them.

“The military knows all,” said Sean pleasantly.

“Could you please step outside?” said the same uniform. His stripes and insignia showed him to be a sergeant in the military police.

“I think we’re just fine right here, actually,” said Michelle.

“Could you step outside?” said the uniform again.

“Why?” asked Sean.

“We need to talk to you.”

“Which is something you can do right here.” He motioned to two empty seats at the table.

“We would prefer if this took place outside.”

“Then we have a difference of opinion. But since you’re military police and neither of us is in the military, I’m not seeing how you get us outside against our wishes when we are breaking no laws that would allow you to execute a citizen’s arrest.”

“You the lawyer?” said the other uniform. “You sound like one,” he added when Sean nodded.

The sergeant laid a hand on top of his sidearm.

“That would be a career-ending mistake, Sergeant,” said Sean. “And neither you nor I would want that.”

“Then I guess we do this the harder way.”

“What way would that be?” asked Michelle warily.

The sergeant slipped his phone out and sent a text.

Five seconds later the door to the Panera burst open and in walked three men in suits.

“Sean King and Michelle Maxwell?” said the lead man.

“Who wants to know?” replied Sean.

Three Homeland Security badges were shoved in their faces.

“Let’s go,” barked the lead agent.

As Sean and Michelle were yanked from their seats, the sergeant said, with a smile, “ That’s the harder way.”

The forty-minute ride in an SUV [16] SUV – sport utility vehicle. with blacked-out windows landed them at a facility in Loudoun County, Virginia, that was surrounded by large stands of trees. They were hustled through the front doors, taken past security after their weapons were confiscated, and led down a hallway.

Sean said, for the umpteenth futile time, “What the hell is this about?” And for the umpteenth time he received not a single answer.

They were taken to a small, bare conference room and told to sit. The door was closed and locked behind them.

Sean looked around the space.

Michelle said, “DHS [17] DHS – Department of Homeland Security. ? Why are they involved? Isn’t the DoD enough of an eight-hundred-pound gorilla?”

Sean put a finger to his lips and pointed to a small listening device poking out above the molding next to the ceiling.

A few minutes later the door opened and a man entered. He was about Sean’s height, around fifty, still trim, with thick legs that stretched his pants to near capacity. He wore no jacket. Against his white dress shirt was a shoulder holster with no pistol in it.

He was holding a file. He sat across from them and read from the file for so long that Sean was about to say something when the other man looked up.

“Interesting stuff,” said the man. “I’m Jeff McKinney, by the way. DHS Special Agent Jeff McKinney to be precise.”

“And I’m an especially pissed-off private citizen,” replied Sean.

“Make that two,” said Michelle.

McKinney sat back. “Coffee, water, tea?”

“Answers and apologies would do just fine,” answered Sean. “With the apologies preferably up front.”

“Apologize for what? Doing our job?”

Sean shook his head. “Not gonna cut it, McKinney. I don’t think Homeland’s job is to jerk law-abiding citizens out of their chairs at a public place without telling them why or reading them their rights. So we’ve technically been kidnapped. Unless you’ve added felonies to your official duties, you’ve got a massive lawsuit coming your way. I’ll want to spell your name right. Is it M-c or M-a-c?”

McKinney smiled and tapped the file. “Let’s talk Tyler Wingo.”

Sean leaned forward. “Let’s talk you letting us the hell out of here.”

“But I haven’t asked my questions,” McKinney said pleasantly.

“You can direct them to my lawyer. I’m going to call him right now.”

“You don’t need a lawyer. You haven’t been arrested.”

“We have been detained against our will. Same thing in my book. But if we haven’t been arrested, then you have no power to hold us.” He started to rise.

“National security trumps a lot of what’s in the Constitution, Mr. King. So please sit back down. I don’t want to resort to restraints, but I will if I have to.”

“You’re only digging your hole deeper.”

“I think we both want the same thing. What’s good for Tyler Wingo.”

Sean sat back down while Michelle warily watched both men.

“Well, if you’re working with the Army I seriously doubt that.”

“What do you have against the Army? They’re good people.”

Sean leaned back in his chair and seemed to make up his mind. “Okay, ask your questions.”

“What’s your connection with Tyler Wingo?”

“Confidential. Unless he’s waived it.”

“He’s not old enough to be your client.”

“While it’s true we couldn’t enforce a contract against Tyler because he has not yet reached the age of majority, we accord all clients, regardless of age, the same professional courtesy of maintaining confidentialities.”

“Then this conversation will be very short.”

“What I was hoping for, actually,” said Sean.

McKinney opened the file, pulled a piece of paper from it, and slid it across to Sean. He looked down at it while Michelle read over his shoulder.

“As you can see, Tyler Wingo has waived any confidentiality rights he might have. So you can answer my question. What is your relationship with him?”

Sean pushed the paper away. “How much did you have to threaten to get him to sign that?”

“We don’t threaten kids, Mr. King. He signed it because he wanted to. Now, what is your relationship?”

“He retained us to investigate his father’s death.”

“His father was KIA in Afghanistan. He and his stepmother were duly informed of this. There is nothing you can add to that. It’s not like you can fly into Afghanistan and start poking around. It’s a war zone and a military zone and you would have no jurisdiction whatsoever as your PI license does not extend to international domains. I checked.”

Sean said nothing to this.

“So were you trying to take advantage of the boy? Did he pay you money? Did you ask for a retainer?”