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Monday, May 30
En route to Dallas, Texas
Kim studied the photos.
Carmen Greer was a petite beauty, for sure. But not Reacher’s usual type. He liked strong women, often law enforcement. It seemed to be a thing with him. Which, Kim had long suspected, was one reason Cooper had given Kim this assignment in the first place. To attract Reacher.
But Carmen Greer was nothing like Reacher’s other women that Kim had met on this assignment so far. Why had he become involved with her?
The Reacher file included on the flash drive contained a brief summary of the known events that had occurred while he spent time in and around Pecos, and Echo, Texas. Ten years ago.
The summary reflected the usual sort of trouble Reacher attracted like honey drew ants. As always, there were few records and those that existed contained only sketchy details.
Reacher had been hitchhiking along a dusty Texas road when Carmen Greer offered him a ride. Then she offered him a job and took him back to the Red House Ranch in Echo.
Things went south from there.
At some point, like Cooper had said, Carmen Greer’s husband ended up dead.
Briefly, Kim wondered if Reacher had killed the man.
Seemed he hadn’t, according to the file. Reacher had a solid alibi. He’d been in custody at the time the murder occurred.
Carmen Greer was arrested and charged with her husband’s murder.
Alice Aaron was Carmen’s pro bono lawyer.
Which was curious.
The Greers had money. The dead man was worth millions. Why Carmen Greer needed a free lawyer wasn’t explained in the file.
Which was only one of the myriad questions Kim would have when she met Alice Aaron, if she got the chance to ask.
The murder and mayhem didn’t stop with the dead husband. Kim would have been surprised if it had.
Reacher’s methods predictably resulted in multiple homicides and a few cracked bones for the survivors. His brief stint in Echo, Texas, was no exception.
After the dust finally cleared, Rusty Greer, the dead man’s mother, was also arrested. Formal charges against her were a little vague but accounted for at least one of the deaths on the score card.
Rusty Greer had been in prison for the past ten years and was released a few weeks ago. Available intel on that was sketchy, too.
According to the file, it was believed Rusty had returned to the Red House Ranch when she was released from prison. The ranch was currently occupied by her younger son. Robert Greer. The one they called Bobby.
Reacher, of course, had walked away from Echo and Carmen Greer unscathed.
No charges filed against him. No records to prove he was involved. Hell, nothing much to prove he was ever present at all.
Same as always.
Kim shook her head as she closed the laptop, leaned her head back, and dropped her eyelids to think.
Too bad Gaspar wasn’t here. Gaspar thought like Reacher. She missed his insight.
She knew a lot more about Reacher now than when she’d first caught this assignment. At that point, she didn’t know Jack Reacher at all. She was smarter now.
The hard-won knowledge she’d acquired over the past seven months said the Greer situation didn’t pass the smell test. Not even remotely.
Back in November, she’d been assigned to complete a background check. She was told that Reacher could be dead. Or hiding. Or maybe just living deep off the grid like some wacko, holed up with canned food and enough ammo to defeat marauders of all sorts.
Cooper had told her Reacher was a dangerous killer and warned her to be exceptionally wary. She took his advice to heart. He was her boss and she owed him. Simple as that.
Cooper hadn’t lied, exactly.
But he hadn’t revealed the whole truth, either.
Lies of omission could be just as fatal as intentional deceit. She’d learned that the hard way, too.
Bottom line of her hard-won experience was that Cooper couldn’t be trusted.
And Reacher?
Was he the stone-cold killer Cooper had warned her about?
Partly.
As the case had progressed from a background check into a full-on manhunt, she’d had several close personal encounters with Reacher.
She’d also interviewed witnesses who had known Reacher for short periods of time under intense, dangerous conditions.
Kim had survived the kind of hot, hard, constant pressure that makes diamonds out of coal.
Which meant she’d learned an unthinkable lesson.
A lesson she’d resisted for way too long.
A lesson she’d never have believed if she hadn’t lived it herself.
Simply put, the FBI couldn’t be trusted.
Reacher was a killing machine as good as any the US Army had ever produced. One of the best. Didn’t make him a psycho. At least, not totally.
She’d also come to believe Reacher was a fundamentally good person, down deep.
Depending on the situation, Reacher could be either saint or sinner.
The choice was always and solely his and his alone.
He made his decisions without consulting his target, sometimes without exchanging a single word or experience between them. He chose up sides based on his own criteria, and then he set out to destroy the opposition.
For Reacher, there were never two sides to any story. There was Reacher’s view and only Reacher’s view.
Reacher’s methods and his hubris were anathema to Kim.
She was a lawyer by training and experience, as well as an FBI agent. Experience and the law admitted that there were always multiple sides to every story.
The good guys and the bad guys were sometimes impossible to identify.
They didn’t actually wear team jerseys or fly flags during Reacher-style combat.
Reacher had received some of the same training Kim did. He was a military cop for thirteen years. He knew the rules.
He was a good cop, too. Everything in his army files said so.
Even though he too often ignored the law he was sworn to uphold simply because he wanted to.
When Reacher walked away from the army, he’d walked away from all the rules. Which was what made him so dangerous.
Well, that, and his bulk and his no-holds-barred fighting skills.
All of that had been in play during the time Reacher was in Echo, Texas. What the hell happened down there?
Kim felt a slight shift in the jet’s cabin. The small jet had been flying through turbulence since they left Detroit, but this was different. She shuddered and opened her eyes.
Cooper had returned carrying two cups of black coffee. He offered one to her and took his seat. “Well? See anything in those files that suggests we might catch up with Reacher in Dallas?”
“Sadly, no.” she replied, accepted the coffee and sipped as if it contained the elixir of life. Which, of course, it did.
“Let me rephrase.” Cooper smiled. “Assume Reacher is in Texas. Where will we find him?”
“Why do you think he’s there at all?” she replied.
“We’ll get to that,” he said.