She turned back to face him, smiling, “Don’t worry, I’m a friend,” then looking back up at Barrett, she went on snidely, “for now, at least.”

She nudged Neal aside, and closed the front door firmly behind herself. She locked it, and said in an aside, “You’ll need a dead bolt and a much stronger chain. Maybe a steel crossbrace. Anyway, let’s get away from the door so you can tell me what’s going on, shall we?”

“Who are you?” said Neal, almost angry at the way she was taking control. He looked at Barrett as she walked into the living room he had occupied a moment ago, “Do you know this woman?”

“Yes, Neal, you’ll have to take my word for this, she can be trusted explicitly. She is the old friend I mentioned to you a week ago.”

“And how does she come to suddenly be here, at my house?” asked Neal in an almost whisper.

At this, the woman in question returned from the living room and answered the question herself. “Neal, Barrett and I go back a very long way. A week ago he sent me a note asking me to come to DC, and saying he wanted to get back together.”

Neal digested this for a moment, and then said to the tall officer shaking his head beside him, “You invited an ex-girlfriend over to my house?”

“No,” she answered for Barrett again, before he could open his mouth, “he said he wanted to get back together. The last time I saw Barrett was five years ago, and I had joked then, however sadly, that I would never hear from him again. He had said he would contact me again when he was ready to get back together. Both of us knew that was impossible, so I had said that if he ever asked me back that I would know he was in trouble. He asked, so I knew he was in trouble.”

Barrett and the woman looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, the practiced understanding of many years of intimacy needing no words as they greeted each other and let each other know the gravity of the situation with their expressions.

She nodded, “Well then, Neal, I have been watching you for two days. You are clearly in hiding, though from what I do not know. And Barrett here is clearly concerned for your well-being, and maybe his own, but that never made him ask for my help before.” She looked around for something.

“Does this place have a basement? I’m not comfortable talking with all these windows around.” she said, waiting for Neal to respond.

“Err, yes,” he said, jolted into action, “it’s a bit of a dump, but it’s certainly not got any windows.”