Diane Capri - Jack and Kill

Duffy said, “Our team was deployed to assist with apprehension of kidnapping suspects and the continuing commission of federal crimes.”

She’d chosen the option Kim would have selected and that was a comfort because it made Duffy predictable, which was the best thing an adversary could be. Kim would bet a month’s salary Duffy’s answer wasn’t true, but it was vague enough. The kind of thing Duffy could maintain long enough to do whatever it was she’d come here to accomplish.

Gaspar raised his right eyebrow in response.

Duffy bluffed again, probably because they were in no position to challenge her bluff. “You can check with my superiors if you like before you brief me on exactly why you’re here. I’ll wait.”

Gaspar shrugged like a man who’s played more than one hand of poker, too. “We were in process of our assignment when we approached what we thought was a traffic crash with bodily injury. We stopped to help. Now that you’re here and in charge, we’ll head out unless there’s something we can do for you?”

Before Duffy had a chance to reply, an officer from Brady’s team walked up, “Agent Duffy? The medical examiner wants to see you before they transport the body. Please come this way.” Duffy simply followed; Otto and Gaspar tagged along.

The medical examiner was standing beside the covered body when they approached. “We’ve followed protocols, Agent Duffy. Is there anything special you want me to check before I go?”

“Identifying marks? Scars? Anything?” She asked, as if she thought there might be. Kim realized Duffy hadn’t seen the body. Yet, she didn’t seem to be thinking Reacher had found his match at long last and finally lost. She didn’t seem worried at all.

“Unfortunately, no,” the doctor said. “I’ve taken extra cheek swabs for DNA in case you have anything to compare at some point. But there is something I wanted to show you.”

The medical examiner knelt down beside the body. Duffy tensed slightly and Kim wondered why; she already knew the dead man wasn’t Reacher. Did Duffy know who the guy was?

He removed the blanket. He turned the burly man’s head to the side exposing his ruined skull. “Cause of death appears to be blunt trauma to the skull caused by hitting the broken concrete. The curious thing is how his head landed here with sufficient force to cause this much damage.”

“He’d fall pretty hard, wouldn’t he?”

The doctor wagged his head. “I can show you the computer models later, but the short answer is that’s unlikely. “

Gaspar asked, “Meaning what?”

“Meaning he was pushed and pushed hard.”

Kim felt what was coming in the same way she’d feel vibrations on a train track before the train appeared. Maybe Duffy felt it, too.

The doctor gestured toward the burly man’s forehead. “See the redness and swelling here? If he’d lived, he’d have a hell of a bruise tomorrow. He was hit with considerable force and weight, which knocked him backwards at significant velocity. When he hit the concrete the blow was much stronger than a simple slip or push and fall.”

Duffy’s face was a mask of objectivity. But Kim wanted firm, unshakable answers. “Could the woman have hit him hard enough to cause this?”

“I don’t know for sure, but in my opinion, no. She’s been described to me as slight and five feet, four inches tall. That makes the leverage wrong. I doubt she could have wielded any weapon with sufficient force to knock this guy down in this way, particularly in her weakened condition after he had already attacked her.” He wagged his head again, “I don’t see how any normal-sized woman could have done it.”

“So you’re saying someone else killed this guy?” Kim asked, to be clear.

“That’s how it looks,” he said.

“What knocked him down?” Gaspar asked.

“Hard to say. Something unexpected, because the deceased didn’t see it coming and duck away. Something hard, heavy, strong. Not that shotgun we found lying there, for sure.”

Duffy interrupted, “Thank you, doctor. Call me from the hospital after you’ve seen the woman, please.” She handed him her business card. Then she turned to face Kim. “Let’s get a cup of coffee. It’s freezing out here.”

Otto and Gaspar walked behind Duffy the short distance back to the Crown Vic. As Duffy had foretold, a second, larger helicopter approached from the east, moving fast, rotors progressively louder, almost within range. Conversational tones became impossible.

Once all three were seated inside the car, Kim turned toward the back seat; Duffy’s gaze met Gaspar’s in the rear view mirror. She said, “You’re looking thoughtful.”

Gaspar started the engine and flipped on the heat before he replied, “Just thinking that what little Brook said to me makes a lot more sense now.”

“What’d he say?” Kim asked, still watching Duffy. What was she thinking?

Gaspar said, “Brook wanted to know why the giant killed the bad man.”

Duffy’s scowl consumed her facial features like a plaster mask. “You’ve jumped to the wrong conclusions again. We need to talk before you get too far off the rails, which wouldn’t be a good thing for any of us.”

Still, Kim examined Duffy’s reaction carefully, challenged. “You’re saying Reacher didn’t kill that guy?”

Duffy’s sigh was barely audible over the rotors’ noise. “It’s not what you think, Otto.”

Kim wagged her head with vigor. “Nothing about Reacher ever is.” Neither Duffy nor Gaspar heard.

Gaspar’s near-shout barely traveled across the increasing cacophony. “Why don’t you enlighten us?”

Duffy projected loudly, “That’s my plan. There’s a diner on Grand Boulevard about a mile past the police station. Head north. I’ll tell you where to turn.”

Gaspar pulled the big car onto the northbound lane and joined the spotty traffic traveling now at normal speeds. New Hope was a tidy town populated with Disney-like storefronts and gaslights and lined with flower boxes still sporting fall mums in yellow hues. The sidewalks were swept clean. The only thing missing were shoppers, but given the weather and the hour and the excitement back at the intersection, an absence of pedestrians was not surprising.

Three miles beyond the crime scene stood a freestanding red brick building with white Doric columns and an impressive double door. Once, it might have been a bank. Now, The New Hope Family Diner advertised breakfast all day. Duffy said, “Park in the side lot. There’s an entrance there.”

Also in the side lot were a dozen vehicles of various makes and models. At the end of the row, Kim noticed a standard issue government black SUV with dark tinted windows all around the back. The driver was clean cut, well groomed, and infinitely patient.

Duffy led the way inside the diner and chose a booth in the back away from the other patrons. Duffy sat with her back to the exit, leaving Kim and Gaspar the best position choice. Surprising, Kim thought, as she and Gaspar sat facing the door.

After the waitress had taken their orders and delivered the coffee, Duffy said, “You’ve been out of the loop on this situation so let me fill you in first. The Vice President’s daughter and her husband are divorcing. The divorce is contentious and not going well for her.”

Kim had heard the rumors. Sally Armstrong had been a wild child when her father was one heartbeat away from leading the free world. Substance abuse was alleged, but never admitted. Marriage hadn’t tamed her.

Gaspar watched Duffy closely while drinking his coffee, but he asked no questions, which was odd for him. His behavior had been erratic since his wife called earlier. Kim continued to worry about his Miami issues, but she could only handle one major problem at a time.