Jack Reacher 01 - Killing Floor

with rubber overshoes, nylon bodysuits and surgical gloves. And sharp knives. And a bag of nails. And a hammer.
    “Finlay, call your buddy Picard right now,” I said. “We need his help. We’ve got to put Charlie Hubble somewhere safe. And her kids. Right now.”
    Finlay nodded gravely. He saw it. He understood.
    “For sure,” he said. “Get your ass up to Beckman. Right now. Stay there. I’ll organize Picard. You don’t leave until he shows up, OK?”
    He picked up the phone. Dialed an Atlanta number from memory.

    ROSCOE WAS BACK AT HER DESK. MAYOR TEALE WAS HANDING her a thick wad of file folders. I stepped over to her and pulled up a spare chair. Sat down next to her.
    “What time do you finish?” I said.
    “About six, I guess,” she said.
    “Bring some handcuffs home, OK?” I said.
    “You’re a fool, Jack Reacher,” she said.
    Teale was watching so I got up and kissed her hair. Went out into the afternoon and headed for the Bentley. The sun was dropping away and the heat was gone. Shadows were lengthening up. Felt like the fall was on its way. Behind me I heard a shout. Mayor Teale had followed me out of the building. He called me back. I stayed where I was. Made him come to me. He limped over, tapping his cane, smiling. Stuck out his hand and introduced himself. Said his name was Grover Teale. He had that politician’s knack of fixing you with a look and a smile like a searchlight. Like he was thrilled to bits just to be talking to me.
    “Glad I caught you,” he said. “Sergeant Baker has brought me up to date on the warehouse homicides. It all seems pretty clear to me. We made a clumsy mistake in apprehending you, and we’re all very sorry indeed about your brother, and we’ll certainly let you know just as soon as we get to any conclusions. So before you get on your way, I’d be grateful if you’d kindly accept my apology on behalf of this department. I wouldn’t want you to take away a bad impression of us. May we just call it a mistake?”
    “OK, Teale,” I said. “But why do you assume I’m leaving?”
    He came back smoothly. Not more than a tiny hesitation.
    “I understood you were just passing through,” he said. “We have no hotel here in Margrave and I imagined you would find no opportunity to stay.”
    “I’m staying,” I said. “I received a generous offer of hospitality. I understand that’s what the South is famous for, right? Hospitality?”
    He beamed at me and grasped his embroidered lapel.
    “Oh, undoubtedly that’s true, sir,” he said. “The South as a whole, and Georgia in particular, is indeed famous for the warmth of its welcome. However, as you know, just at the present time, we find ourselves in a most awkward predicament. In the circumstances, a motel in Atlanta or Macon would really suit you much better. Naturally, we would keep in close touch, and we would extend you every assistance in arranging your brother’s funeral, when that sad time comes. Here in Margrave, I’m afraid, we’re all going to be very busy. It’ll be boring for you. Officer Roscoe’s going to have a lot of work to do. She shouldn’t be distracted just at the moment, don’t you think?”
    “I won’t distract her,” I said evenly. “I know she’s doing vital work.”
    He looked at me. An expressionless gaze. Eye to eye, but he wasn’t really tall enough. He’d get a crick in his scrawny old neck. And if he kept on staring at me like that, he’d get his scrawny old neck broken. I gave him a wintry smile and stepped away to the Bentley. Unlocked it and got in. Gunned the big motor and whirred the window down.
    “See you later, Teale,” I called as I drove away.

    THE END OF THE SCHOOL DAY WAS THE BUSIEST I’D EVER seen the town. I passed two people on Main Street and saw another four in a knot near the church. Some kind of an afternoon club, maybe. Reading the Bible or bottling peaches for the winter. I drove past them and hustled the big car up the sumptuous mile of Beckman Drive. Turned in at the Hubbles’ white mailbox and spun the old Bakelite steering wheel through the driveway curves.
    The problem with trying to warn Charlie was I didn’t know how much I wanted to tell her. Certainly I wasn’t about to give her the details. Didn’t even feel right to tell her Hubble was dead at all. We were stuck in some kind of a limbo. But I couldn’t keep her in the dark forever. She needed to know some context. Or else she wouldn’t listen to the warning.
    I