No Way Back(Jack McNeal #1)(24)

Sixteen

The following day, after a long drive south from Westport, McNeal sat in the lobby of the Willard hotel in Washington, DC, nursing a soda, anxiously waiting to meet up with Anna Seligman. His cell phone rang.

“Jack, it’s Anna.” Her voice sounded strained.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“I’m so sorry. I had to leave the conference early.”

“So, you’re not at the hotel? Nothing serious, I hope.”

“Listen, I won’t be able to make it. I’ve got a major problem.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Unfortunately not. I’ve had a break-in at my office. Files are missing. It’s very serious.”

“It’s not a problem for me to head on over and continue our conversation there.”

“That won’t be possible right now.”

“Just give me a few minutes of your time. I drove a long way today just to speak to you.”

“I’m sorry for wasting your time. The place is crazy.”

“What happened?”

“I came back to my office about an hour ago. My talk finished early, and I wanted to pick up Caroline’s files and a few other things. When I got here, I realized that a batch of maybe forty files had been stolen, along with a laptop and an iPad. It must’ve happened when I was giving the lecture.”

“And the police are there?”

“They’re here now. I’m really sorry.”

“What about cloud backup?”

Seligman groaned. “I just checked my Dropbox. I always back up my files to the cloud, securely. I checked on my cell phone. All my online files were accessed four hours ago, exactly when I was giving the talk. They’re all gone. Years of work, including Caroline’s notes. It’s a major data breach. A friend of mine, an IT guy, said I might have inadvertently downloaded ransomware that wiped out these files.”

McNeal’s mind raced ahead. He could see as clear as day that something was very wrong. It pointed to a targeted robbery. His gut reaction told him Seligman was telling the truth. “That must’ve been very upsetting for you,” he said.

“Awful. I feel sick.”

“If your IT guy thinks it is ransomware, did you receive any demands? You know, hand over ten thousand bucks and we’ll restore your files?”

“Nothing like that. If this gets out, my business will be ruined by this.”

McNeal groaned. “Are you sure I can’t briefly stop by?”

“I asked the police if I could speak to you. I showed them on my calendar that we have an appointment. They told me it wasn’t possible. I’m so sorry.”

“I understand. Look, I appreciate you reaching out.”

Seligman was quiet for a few moments. “Do you mind me speaking frankly, Jack?”

“No.”

“I’m not one for conspiracy theories . . .”

“Neither am I.”

“However, I was wondering if there could be any connection between Caroline’s death and the files going missing. It’s a very strange coincidence.”

“It crossed my mind as well.”

“This makes me very uneasy.”

“I know exactly how you feel. I used to deal with robberies in Manhattan. You feel like you’ve been violated.”

“I also feel like the confidentiality of my patients has been breached. Anyway, I’m sorry I can’t help you further. And sorry you traveled all this way.”

Caroline had divulged sensitive information to her psychologist. Someone wanted to know what it was. McNeal stood and started back toward his car. “Thanks for your time. I’ll let you get back to talking with the police.”

“If the files are returned or found, I’ll be sure to let you know.”





Seventeen

McNeal was emotionally drained. It had been a long and fruitless drive down to DC. He wondered if he should just stay overnight at the Willard and drive back home in the morning.

The psychologist might have been able to provide a greater insight into Caroline’s mindset before her death. In the blink of an eye, McNeal was back to square one. He weighed the pros and cons of the drive. He could see no point in enduring a five-hour trip up I-95 now. Better to get refreshed and head off when he was rested.

McNeal reserved a room for the night. He ordered a burger and a cold beer from room service as he watched the news. He showered and put on the hotel’s white monogrammed robe. He wondered what his next move should be. He contemplated just forgetting about the whole thing. But there were already too many unanswered questions. Too many strange occurrences. Maybe Caroline was being followed. Maybe not. And then, on top of everything else, Caroline’s files were missing from her therapist’s office after a break-in.

It was all too much to believe. It didn’t make sense.

McNeal called his brother. “I need to talk.”

Peter sighed. “What’s on your mind? You at home?”

“I’m down in DC.”

“What?”

“I had to meet up with someone.”

“Why didn’t you let me know? I could have come with you.”

“I don’t need someone to hold my fucking hand.”