Get Back Jack by Diane Capri Read Free Book Online Page A

release them.
    Gaspar looked more exhausted than she felt. The alley grime on his clothes had dried and begun to smell.
    “Where are we?” Kim asked.
    “Same place we were this morning. Nowhere.”
    Kim might have argued if Gaspar wasn’t so obviously correct. She applied her attention to the chowder and considered what she knew, what she’d guessed, and what she still needed to find out.
    Reacher’s behavior had become her fixation since she’d received her assignment. Kim had spent years studying human behavior. She knew what was reasonable and what wasn’t. Sometimes, she could tell what criminals would do before they did it. And she could analyze their activities exceptionally well afterwards, which was not as good, but still helpful. She wasn’t a profiler by training, but what she had was an odd, savant-like talent based on instinct and experience. She’d honed the talent over the years to something akin to a fine art form. She couldn’t explain it or defend it, but she relied on the ability as she relied on ever-present oxygen.
    She wished she could see Reacher’s face up close, though. And hear him speak. She’d never heard his voice. She’d seen him move on videotape once and she replayed the video in her mind.
    At this point, she knew she would recognize Reacher in a dark alley when he was completely shadowed. But if she could meet him, study him, she would memorize his smell, his gestures, his voice timbre and cadence and syntax.
    Did he have an accent? What kind? Was his voice gravelly and rough? Or smooth? What did the texture of his skin say about his physical activities? His hands were the size of shovels, but were they roughened by heavy work? Or softened by disuse? Did he have good teeth? She’d never seen him smile broadly. Army dental records suggested he’d had the usual cavities for a kid before Fluoride became ubiquitous. Had he worn braces? Have an overbite? A lisp?
    She heard herself sigh and felt her shoulders sag with fatigue and disappointment. The problem was the same as it always was with this assignment. She just did not know enough, and she was battling on two fronts that she simply could not control. One, acquire more data. Two, face Reacher.
    Preferably in that order.
    The server approached with more coffee, which both Kim and Gaspar accepted. “Would you like dessert? We have terrific pie.”
    Kim looked down. She’d finished the last of her chowder without realizing she’d eaten it all. “No. Thank you.”
    Gaspar said, “Sure. Apple? With ice cream?”
    The server collected the empty chowder bowls and before she hurried away said, “Coming right up.”
    Gaspar rested his forearms on the table and leaned toward her. “Figure everything out yet?”
    “It would help tremendously if we knew why the Boss wants Reacher’s file completed.”
    “No kidding.”
    She knew the Boss well. He had a reason for this assignment and the reason wouldn’t necessarily be kosher. Which was okay. It was the not knowing that was not okay. Not knowing could get her killed. It almost had already.
    “I was running the video we saw of Reacher head-butting that dude through my mind again,” she said. They’d been given only one opportunity to watch the video, without sound, before it was taken from them. But Kim could remember every frame as if the short video were running on a continuous loop in her head.
    In her mind’s eye, she saw Reacher hitchhiking along the deserted country road. She watched as he caught a ride in a small sedan driven by an attractive young woman with a young boy in the car. The woman was distracted by the child and rear-ended a truck. The truck driver jumped out, pulled the woman from the car and attacked her. Reacher bolted from the vehicle and stopped the attacker with a quick, vicious head-butt. The attacker fell to the ground and cracked his skull on the pavement. Reacher left the scene, headed toward New York City.
    Just two days ago.
    “And?”
    “Compared