CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

“How is the Army explaining the incident?” Gaspar asked as we settled into the visitor chairs in Reacher’s old office at Fort Bird.

Major Tony Clifton’s once handsome face was gray and haggard. He’d aged two decades since we’d seen him last. The charming lines around his expressive eyes were deeper. He was wrung out and he looked it.

“Training accident. That’s all anyone needs to know.” He was seated across the desk. An untouched mug of coffee rested near his phone. He hadn’t offered us coffee today and no one brought any. “That’s how Matt wanted it.”

Gaspar shrugged, but I lowered my gaze.

General Clifton’s dress uniform had been tiled with every medal there was. He’d excelled in combat and in peacetime. He was as strong as any human could be, mentally and physically. He’d attended dozens of similar demonstrations and he knew the safe places as well as the unsafe ones. No one who knew General Matthew Clifton would believe he’d simply wandered into the line of fire and been riddled with bullets.

But even if people wanted to believe his death was an accident, one look at the body would’ve proven otherwise. The bullets alone wouldn’t have ripped his body apart like that grenade did.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” I said. If his family was okay with calling his suicide a training accident, I wouldn’t be the one to clear the record. “He wouldn’t have been sent to prison. He’d have received a suspended sentence, at the very most. There’s precedent for that and he certainly didn’t deserve worse.”

There was no evidence that the West Point friends he’d awarded the no-bid defense contracts to, like Thomas O’Connor, were less than the best contractors for the job. No evidence of kickbacks or overcharging. Everything I’d read about the new drones his cronies had presented was glowingly positive and the budget was strictly adhered to. In fact, it looked like O’Connor’s firm would bring the project in under budget. What General Matthew Clifton had done with the no-bid contracts was unethical, but the results had nonetheless been a rousing success by all accounts.

“He got the news the day before. Summer’s investigation had already resulted in charges against other officers. Matt knew what was coming. He knew the shitstorm that was coming his way and he refused to be subjected to it.” Tony’s shoulders sagged and his voice thickened. “He’d devoted his life to the Army. He should have been promoted this week to a three-star. He was headed to the Joint Chiefs. He simply wouldn’t accept anything less.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again because I had nothing more brilliant to offer.

He ran a flat palm across his face. “Matt didn’t have it in him to accept a reprimand or a demotion or be forced to retire or face disgrace. He really felt death was his only choice.”

In his shoes, I’m not sure I’d have had the courage to do what Clifton did, but I understood it. Soldiers and FBI agents, too, knew there were worse things than dying. “You discussed the matter with him, then?”

“Several times. I argued with him until I was hoarse. We worked behind the scenes to change the outcome, too.” He paused and looked at me directly and nodded slowly. “That’s why I sent you to Joe Reacher’s ex. Leslie Browning. I knew that would get you to her husband and Dynamic Defense Systems. You’d investigate independently and find out there was no harm, no foul. In fact, Matt got the Army a better result than we’d have managed any other way. His solution was expedient, too. He thought that should be enough. He thought the Inspector General would do the right thing, in the end. But that didn’t happen.”

“Rules are rules, Tony,” Gaspar said. “Every soldier knows that. Surely Matt must’ve.”

Tony hung his head. After a moment, he squared his shoulders and looked at me again as if he’d mentally turned a corner of some kind, determined to carry on. “I’m sure you didn’t come all the way back here to Bird to offer your condolences. How can I be of assistance to the FBI today?”

Quick jolts of electricity ran through me. Those were the exact words I’d heard from Thomas O’Connor, too. The echo effect was eerie.

“Sheriff Taylor has a BOLO out on your Sergeant Church. We wanted to give you a heads up.” Taylor’s “Be On the Lookout” order had gone out an hour ago. He might have already found Church unless Church was on base. “Come into New Haven with us to observe the interrogation. You know Church better than any of the rest of us. Taylor could use your input.”

“On what charge?” Tony’s eyebrows shot north. Both of them at the same time. He leveled a glassy stare in our direction. “Sheriff Taylor has no jurisdiction over our soldiers. Neither do you.”

“The homicide was a shooting off the base,” Gaspar informed him. “The case is Sheriff Taylor’s bailiwick.” Gaspar didn’t mention that we were the ones who put the evidence in Taylor’s hands to support the arrest.

Tony’s response was quick and sharp. “Is this about the incident at The Lucky Bar the other night? Because Church wasn’t even there. He was with me.”

I leaned in and asked calmly, “What do you know about Sergeant Church’s integrity, Tony?”

Major Clifton leaned back and crossed his legs. “As much as I need to know. He’s Army. That makes him one of ours.”

“You know he’s a trained sniper, right?”

His curt nod gave no quarter. “Damned good one. Two tours in Iraq. More than three dozen confirmed kills. Member of the Marksmanship Unit for a while, too.” If the mention of this particular unit caused him any trouble so soon after watching his brother die at the unit’s hand, he gave no sign of it.

I pressed on, undaunted. “That’s a lot of expensive Army resources spent on Church. Why was he sitting at that desk out there bringing your coffee the day I arrived?”

“I told you when you asked me the first time. An informal disciplinary issue with tardiness two days in a row. That’s all. I didn’t even make a note in his file. Just between him and me.” He raised his hand and flipped his fingers as if to dust me off. Then he raised his coffee cup. “You notice he’s not sitting out there and bringing you coffee today.”

I nodded. That’s what I remembered about him. Church was late. Two days in a row.

Which made sense. The Boss had set up my appointment at the last minute. Church must have learned that Summer would be driving down the Interstate to Fort Bird from Rock Creek. He probably knew her appointment was with me and he knew why. Tony Clifton might even have told him.

So the first day, Church was late because he was scouting the sniper’s nest. Finding the right spot to lie in wait for Summer. Judging the terrain, the wind direction, the difficulty of the shot. Maybe he even took a few practice shots, although that might have been too risky. I made a mental note to ask Sheriff Taylor if anyone had reported damage that might have come from practice rounds.

The second day, I figured Church was late because instead of coming to work, he’d gone to his nest and lay in wait until Summer drove past, and then he killed her.

When I saw Church limping that day in the Officers Club, it might have been because he’d pulled a muscle or something. The terrain was rough out there. He’d have been in a hurry to get back to Bird before I arrived for my appointment with Summer.

The scenario was more than plausible.

“Surely you don’t get involved whenever a soldier has a minor issue with his boss,” I said. “Why did you take such a personal interest in Sergeant Church?”

Tony cleared his throat and shrugged. “Matthew asked me to look after him.”

I leaned in further. “Why?”

“Church’s father had been a friend of Matt’s. Matt never married and had no kids of his own. Like me, he was married to the Army. So when Church’s father died, Matt took an interest in the boy.” He cleared his throat again and glanced down briefly to blink. “I guess Matt was the father Church never had.”

This next bit was tricky. I’d gone over it in my head a few times, but subjects don’t always respond the way I imagine they will. To change the dynamic slightly, I sniffed the air and pretended to notice the aroma.

I nodded toward his mug. “Any chance we can get some of that great coffee? Who knows when we’ll get another opportunity?”

Tony stood and left the room without a word.