Not long after, footsteps sounded outside again, drawing closer and stopping at the small meeting room door. The next second, the door opened, and Finley's dark face peeked in.
"Tell me, is that 'Hulk' the killer? Why are you investigating him?"
He carefully closed the door, his expression anxious but his voice deliberately low.
"I'm an IRS investigator. Murder cases aren't within my jurisdiction. I approached him because of another, more important case."
Jack wore a mysterious smile that said nothing more.
"What could be more important than a murder case? Do you know how many years it's been since there's been a murder in this town?"
Seeing Jack unmoved, clearly unwilling to say anything, Finley's face grew even darker.
"To you, it's just one body. I'm investigating the hidden pile of corpses beneath this calm surface."
Jack suddenly stood up. Though he didn't have Reacher's bulk, he still managed to exude a presence that dwarfed the barely 5'7" detective.
"You may have verified my identity, but you should understand that our mutual trust is still very limited. Even if I told you everything now, you wouldn't believe it."
Startled by Jack's sudden serious tone, Finley hesitated, staring at Jack as if trying to judge whether this IRS guy was bluffing.
Ultimately, he found he couldn't even convince himself. He'd been in this small town for a while, and no matter how much he pretended to just be coasting, something about this situation felt off. Jack wasn't just scaremongering.
"Can you at least tell me what this word and phone number mean? We found it in the dead man's shoe."
Finley took out an evidence bag with a small note inside. The note read "PLURIBUS" and a string of numbers.
Jack knew that according to the original plot, the police would find two bodies near the overpass, one of them being Reacher's brother, Joe Reacher. This note was supposed to be in Joe's shoe.
Last night, the Wolfe brothers followed Joe as instructed. Joe had been meeting the deceased when they were ambushed. The other man died on the spot, and Joe was severely injured.
If not for Jack's intervention, Joe would have stuffed the crucial clue into his shoe before dying. But the Wolfe brothers saved him, so the note ended up with Braxton, who handed it to Jack.
This morning, Jack had arrived in Margrave at dawn, found the crime scene based on Braxton's description, and placed the note in the deceased's shoe. He even kicked the cardboard box partially open to ensure the body would be found, then waited at the diner until the big guy showed up.
If the world's will had a conscience, it would be moved by Jack's effort to keep the plot on track. After all, only the number on the note could lead to the key witness who would expose the crimes of the Kleiner Foundation.
'PLURIBUS' translated to 'many' or 'one.' Joe meant that by gathering all the clues, he found the person who could reveal the truth—the owner of this phone number.
So Jack naturally answered, "I don't know, but why don't you just check who the number belongs to?"
Finley sounded frustrated. "Private phone companies are even more bureaucratic than the police system. We're still waiting for a response."
Jack shrugged. "The IRS can't help with that, but I have a feeling the owner of this number might be important."
Feeling that Jack had just stated the obvious, Finley waved dismissively. "I'll arrange for you and the other Jack to be held together, but that drifter's not much of a suspect. He might be released tomorrow morning."
"No problem. That fake warrant will be withdrawn tomorrow morning too, but I have a suggestion for you," Jack said.
"What suggestion?"
"Don't judge people by stereotypes. Reacher could be a great ally. I suggest you dig into his background. Sometimes admitting someone's better than you isn't a bad thing."
Jack smiled as he delivered the pointed remark.
The black detective was silent for a while before reluctantly nodding. "I really dislike him, but I'll consider your suggestion."
The holding cell was actually just a corner of the office area, enclosed by steel bars. Finley opened the cell door, and Reacher, hearing the noise, looked up at them.
"Ah, we meet again," Jack greeted Reacher.
Reacher ignored him, just frowning.
Jack, unwilling to give up, continued to try to chat. "How was the peach pie at the diner? It's the best in Georgia, I dare say."
Reacher frowned at him for a long moment before replying, "They arrested me before I could take a bite."
"Well, that's a shame." Jack shrugged.
With that, the conversation died, and Jack decided not to push too hard, maintaining a silent atmosphere.
About two or three hours later, the delicate-looking female officer brought over a cup of coffee and handed it to Reacher.
"You've been in here a while. I thought you might need something to stay alert."
"Thank you." Reacher stood up, walked to the bars, took the coffee, and smiled appreciatively.
Jack looked up eagerly at the female officer. Though he was already full from the diner and had three cups of coffee, he felt a pang of injustice. Why did only Reacher get coffee?
The delicate female officer glared at him, saw his bright smile and dimples, and grudgingly brought him a cup too, but without sugar.
Jack walked to Reacher, took the cup, sipped, and nearly choked on the bitterness, then sulked back to his seat holding the cup.
"I guessed you like black coffee," the female officer said to Reacher, still standing by the bars.
"How did you guess?" Reacher took a sip.
"You don't seem to like fancy things. Cream and sugar are fancy," the female officer replied.
"So you think I'm innocent?" Reacher asked.
"Why do you say that?" The female officer's smile was slightly flirtatious.
"Because I don't think you'd give coffee to a guilty person."
Jack was flabbergasted. "???"
Sure enough, the female officer pointed at him. "Didn't I also give coffee to that fraudster who targets elderly women?"
So frustrating. You two flirt all you want, but do I have to be the collateral damage while eating my popcorn?
Reacher seemed surprised, glancing at the innocent-looking Jack. "So, he's really not one of yours?"
Jack finally couldn't hold back. "Are you stupid? Look at that wall, can it fit any more photos? If it weren't for urgent business, I'd still be eating crawfish in 'Pelican State' right now."
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