No Way Back(Jack McNeal #1)(62)

“Easy there,” he said. “Well, this is an out-of-the-way spot. I think I played in these fields as a boy.”

McNeal leaned forward and expertly frisked Graff. He found a handgun and put it in his pocket. “Nothing personal, Graff. I like to know who I’m dealing with. Hands on head. Slowly.” He found a cell phone in a trouser pocket. A new Nokia. Face recognition. He shoved the cell phone in front of Graff’s face, and it unlocked. He tapped in a new passcode. He took a step back, gun still trained on the imposing man, both cloaked in darkness.

Graff put his hands on his head.

McNeal scrolled through the contacts. He saw Nicoletti’s number. He committed it to memory. “You wanted to talk. So, talk.”

Graff turned slightly. “This is not a trap.”

“We’ll see.”

“I know you hate me. And I don’t blame you for hating me. I would if I was in your shoes.”

“Cut the bullshit.”

“I’m here to help you stay alive but also to help you get some closure.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Life comes at us in sudden, violent, unexpected ways. I wish I could turn the clock back. But that’s the way of the world, I guess.”

“Listen here, you bastard. Cut the psychobabble. Talk. Why are you here? Are we talking remorse? You double-crossing someone? Or are you setting me up? Which one is it?”

“There are highly trained individuals who were tasked with taking you out after stopping you on the highway if you had continued down that route.”

“Who are they? And where are they now?”

“Former CIA operatives. They’re in position close to Calverton. Traffic stop. I’ve bought you some time. But they are on their way. A two-man team.”

McNeal didn’t know what to believe. He couldn’t trust Graff. But he sensed the man might, on this occasion, be telling the truth. Or maybe part of the truth. But it was only part of the jigsaw.

“That’s what I wanted to tell you. That’s why I’m here.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“You have no reason to believe me. I understand that.”

McNeal searched around, seeing if Graff was waiting for backup to arrive. He braced himself for an ambush. “Let’s pretend that what you’re saying is true. Why on God’s earth are you telling me?”

“Penance . . . atonement.”

“Atonement for what?”

“My sins.”

McNeal thought his words sounded genuine. But then again, some people were very good at appearing to sound sincere and genuine. Like psychopaths.

“My mortal sins.”

McNeal waited for Graff to make his point.

“I don’t want to kill you. I thought I did. But I don’t.”

“What changed?”

“I thought I could trust someone. A woman. Turns out my trust was misplaced. I’ve been played. And I can see it all as clear as day. I don’t have long before they come for me.”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Graff shook his head.

“I said, who’s ‘they’?”

“The powers that be. Forces at work which can devour people. Shadowy forces. I’m talking deep state.”

“Weren’t you part of the deep state?”

“I was part of it. But no one ever gets out of such operations unscathed. Psychologically. And eventually physically. There is no escape. I realize that now.”

“Did you have a part in my wife’s death?”

“I organized your wife’s death. And my wife’s death. For that, I’m sorry.”

McNeal’s body tensed. It was as if Graff wanted to be shot in cold blood.

“You have every reason to want to kill me. And I wouldn’t blame you if you did. But this goes way beyond just me.”

“Did you kill my wife?”

“I had people kill your wife.”

McNeal let a black anger stir within him. “How was she killed?”

“She was drugged. And then she was placed in the Potomac.”

McNeal pressed the gun tight up against Graff’s forehead, which was slick with sweat.

“Go ahead, do it!” Graff barked. “Why don’t you?”

“I want to know more.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Why did you kill your wife? Did you give the order?”

“I gave the final go-ahead. My wife . . . my late wife often laughed at me. Flaunted her affairs. Talked about who she was having sex with, who she wanted to have sex with. She fucked pop stars. Movie stars. Businessmen. Businesswomen. Black. White. Made no difference. She fucked them all. And she fucked politicians. People with influence on Capitol Hill.”

McNeal pressed the gun tighter to Graff’s head.

“I worried I was going to be humiliated in the eyes of the world. She taunted me. She said she was going to tell the world what she was like. What I was like.”

McNeal clenched his teeth, venom coursing through his veins.

“My wife knew secrets. About me. About my world.”

“What kind of secrets?”

“The shadowy world in which I operate. The politicians who contract me. She tried to blackmail politicians. She took pictures of herself with these men. And she left them on our kitchen table. Our children saw them. The nannies saw them. She was shameless.”