Jack didn't realize his actions were entirely self-indulgent. The door was merely ajar, and out of curiosity, he pushed it open and stepped inside, closing it quietly behind him. He tiptoed further into the room.
Inside the bedroom, two sisters were wrestling, still breathless and in their clothes.
"I'm just trying to help you, and this is how you repay me."
Zoe, being more skilled, had pinned Hannah down, her long legs firmly locking around her cousin's waist. "You owe me an apology, pumpkin!"
"Never! We agreed you'd only see Jack when I wasn't around. You can't take him from me."
Hannah struggled and twisted, trying to free herself from her cousin's hold.
"I never agreed to that. And who was it crying, asking for some time? I just want to have a proper relationship. Now you want him all to yourself, is that it?"
"I can give you everything else, but not him. Try biting me, I dare you!"
A slap resounded, followed by Hannah's yelp.
Jack sneaked a peek and wondered if the shapewear was to blame or if he had been massaging too diligently the past few days. The slap had left a delightful bounce, like jelly, making him want to feel it himself.
Hannah stopped struggling but was clearly faking her tears, which didn't fool her cousin. Another slap landed on her raised bottom.
Jack coughed lightly, pretending not to notice the frozen figures on the bed, and nonchalantly walked through the bedroom into the adjacent bathroom to shower.
The next day, everyone busied themselves with their assigned tasks. Jack and Hannah set off early in the Aston Martin, heading back to the small town. After contacting Finlay, they agreed to meet again at the outdoor barbecue place on the outskirts.
It was Hannah's first time meeting Finlay. After brief introductions, Jack recounted the events of the previous night, focusing on Joey's investigative details. Even though Finlay was somewhat prepared, he was still shocked into silence.
"I should've listened to my FBI friend and never come to this godforsaken place," Finlay muttered angrily.
"Watch your language," Jack teased. "You can still pull out now. You've got your full pension after 20 years. Resign now, and Mayor and Police Chief Tiller will gladly accept."
Finlay glared at him, annoyed. "I've been a cop for 20 years and never backed down from something like this. Though, after this, I might seriously consider retirement."
He took out a file and handed it to them.
"The deceased under the overpass was named Peter Joblin, a truck driver for Southern Freight Shipping Company. I found out that the actual controller of this company is Kline Industries, so this driver was Kline's man."
"He lived in Brookhaven. While you were dealing with those South American hitmen, I visited his home, a nice big house."
"His wife wasn't on good terms with him and wasn't sad about his death. Maybe she sensed something was wrong and was planning to move to Florida. I found some empty boxes with the Kline Industries logo in their garage."
Finlay showed them some photos he had taken with his phone.
Jack rubbed his sparse stubble thoughtfully. "This truck driver might have been willing to be a whistleblower. If we find some counterfeit bills, we'll have basic evidence. Do you have his parents' address? I'd like to visit them."
In his past life, he knew skimming wasn't just a historical term. Big items might be harder, but missing a couple of boxes of oranges from a truckload was a truck driver's prerogative.
Finlay pointed to the second page of the file. "The address is here. His father's name is the same as his, which confused me at first."
"You also asked me to look into two of my other officers. Baker is highly suspicious. I heard he secretly bought a house in Atlanta and has a new young girlfriend."
"But Stevenson seems clean. His wife is pregnant. I overheard him discussing bringing his in-laws over to help with the baby to save money."
Jack's brain started working fast. In the original story, Little Kline wanted to learn about Reacher's investigation from Stevenson and brutally killed this innocent couple, causing three deaths and outrage.
He had told the others last night about setting another bait, hoping to use this situation to lure Little Kline out.
After mentally reviewing his plan and finding no flaws, he spoke slowly.
"I remember Stevenson once asked Roscoe for help visiting the Hubble family. If he knew the Hubble family had disappeared, wouldn't he be more concerned and inquire about them?"
Finlay nodded. "He doesn't know me well, but he did ask about them this morning. I didn't say anything."
"Can you make a point of visiting Stevenson in front of Baker, hinting that you have information on Paul Hubble's whereabouts?"
Finlay frowned, thinking for a moment. "That shouldn't be too hard, but you...?" He suddenly widened his eyes at Jack.
"If he's clean, we shouldn't involve him. He's just a regular guy."
"Yesterday was about setting the bait; tonight is the real fishing. Paul is very important to the Kline family. He holds many channels for acquiring small bills and has direct contact with their core."
Jack explained. "Everyone knows Stevenson is related to the Hubble family. Now that they're missing, and he's asking around, do you think the Kline family will let him go? You said it yourself; his wife is pregnant."
Finlay was finally convinced and agreed to try. He left for the police station, looking quite unsettled. Jack knew he needed time to process all the troubling news.
Leaving the barbecue place, Jack and Hannah visited Peter Joblin's parents. Hannah's FBI credentials won over the still grieving parents, and they found a box full of hundred-dollar counterfeit bills in the garage.
With the box of counterfeit bills, they returned to Atlanta. Around the same time, Chris, who went to pick up someone, and Reacher, who went to the barbershop for information, also returned to the hotel in the afternoon.
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