Black Jack

by Diane Capri

  His vehicle screeched to a stop, resting across the tracks, mere seconds ahead of the oncoming train.

  Poulton stared through the side window as if mesmerized by the relentless machine bearing down on him.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Kim screamed although he couldn’t possibly hear her.

  The engineer blasted his horn and heroically attempted to reduce the train’s rate of speed in the brief interim. The heavily loaded freight cars behind him never slowed.

  The train’s momentum carried it barreling ahead, even as the emergency brakes squealed. Smoke and sparks flashed from the wheels fighting the rails for traction.

  The crash was inevitable. Kim could do nothing to stop it. She reversed to move farther back from the crossing to avoid the shrapnel that could turn Poulton’s insane suicide into a homicide, too.

  The train slammed Poulton’s vehicle on the driver’s side and barely slowed.

  A horrible crunching sound filled the air.

  Instantly, the black SUV was gone. Whooshed ahead by the engine faster than Kim’s brain could process.

  Poulton couldn’t possibly have survived.

  The train pushed the SUV a thousand feet up the tracks before it came to rest.

  Along the way, the force of the impact created a fuel leak. Gas poured onto the tracks.

  The fuel sparked, and Poulton’s SUV erupted.

  The first explosion was followed by a second, and a third, and a fourth following the fuel leak’s path along the tracks.

  Weaponized pieces of steel, glass, plastic, gravel, and dozens of other materials shot out in all directions.

  The bullet resistant Mercedes withstood each assault.

  The train’s brakes continued to squeal much longer than she expected.

  After what seemed like an eternity, the train finally came to a stop.

  The conductor jumped down into the snow and helped the wounded engineer down after him.

  Kim could do nothing except stare in horrified fascination.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Wednesday, February 2

  3:57 p.m.

  John F. Kennedy Airport

  Kim leaned back in her chair, still thinking about the case, as she watched Smithers rushing toward them. He was running late. They wouldn’t have much time to talk.

  She and Gaspar were booked on separate planes to separate cities once again. She was headed home to Detroit, and he was returning to Miami.

  They’d been debriefed for several hours by the Acting Agent in Charge of the New York Field Office yesterday. They’d promised to return for testimony if needed.

  Since then, she’d worked out a few things on her own or with help from the Boss. She knew the woman in the tub was Valerie Webb. Since Poulton set up the false green paint bathtub scene, it was fair to assume he killed her.

  But too many questions remained, and Smithers had some of the answers. After he settled in, she got directly to the point.

  “It was Brice all along, wasn’t it? Then he freaked out when Deerfield brought me into the mix, and he lost it. Totally panicked,” she said.

  “Why do you think so?” Smithers asked.

  She’d begun to suspect Brice when Jodie Jacob said he’d questioned her after he’d told Kim that he didn’t even know her whereabouts. Turned out, he knew where Jodie was all along.

  Kim had asked the Boss to do some digging to confirm her conclusions. First up was to track down that farmhouse where she and Jodie were kept. The real owners were the snowbird parents of one of Brice’s old college chums.

  She said, “You told me this was Brice’s operation Saturday night at Cipriani’s. But he was much more than the lead agent on the black ops assignment.”

  Smithers raised his eyebrows as if he didn’t understand. Kim believed he did.

  “Initially, Deerfield must have classified Farid Petrosian as status unknown, maybe hostile, maybe friendly.” Casually, she crossed her hands in her lap, as if his answers didn’t matter. “Brice was Farid’s handler. Deerfield was willing to do whatever it took to make sure the Petrosians didn’t escape again. He thought Brice would be more vigilant and controllable than any other agent he had.”

  Smithers nodded this time but kept silent. Kim didn’t expect him to verbally confirm. She didn’t need him to. She’d asked the Boss to reaffirm. He did. Brice had sent those text messages to Poulton, claiming to be Deerfield, with orders to pick them up and kill them both. Lucky for Kim and Jodie that Poulton wasn’t that kind of guy.

  Gaspar said, “Deerfield trusted his ability to control Brice. His trust was misplaced. It cost him his life.”

  Smithers cocked his head and frowned. “Brice didn’t kill Deerfield. Tariq Petrosian did. And Samir Petrosian killed Brice.”

  “How do you know?” Gaspar asked.

  “We have forensics from the guns and the bullets. They set the explosives for the house, too.”

  That news made Kim breathe a little easier. She’d thought Reacher might have killed them. He was a solid marksman. And Gaspar saw him at the scene. Maybe she was being paranoid about Reacher now. Which was why she hadn’t told Gaspar about chasing that guy down at Grand Central just because he was big enough and wearing work boots.

  As if he’d read her mind, Gaspar gave her a knowing look.

  She ignored him. “Brice put Deerfield in Tariq and Samir’s sights. After that, both of them were like dogs in the road. It was only a matter of time.”

  “Why’d he do it? Set Deerfield up like that?” Smithers asked.

  Gaspar said, “My guess? Motives were totally personal. For all of them.”

  “Motives usually are.” Smithers nodded. “Farid wanted the family business. To get it, he had to remove Samir and Tariq and stay out of prison. His motives were very personal. What about Deerfield and Brice, though?”

  Gaspar shrugged. “Brice was sick and tired of being mocked, ridiculed, and controlled by his father-in-law. Wouldn’t you be?”

  Smithers said, “Yeah. But I wouldn’t kill him over it.”

  “Brice was no criminal mastermind. He got in over his head. He only wanted Deerfield to retire and get the hell out of the way.” Kim shrugged. “When you wrestle with gangsters like the Petrosians, chances are you’re gonna get mauled, at the very least.”

  Smithers nodded. “Makes sense. How about Deerfield? What was his personal motive?”

  “Same thing. Different level. He wanted his boss to get out of the way, too,” Kim replied, without supplying more of the facts she and Gaspar knew. Deerfield tried to blackmail the Boss with the black ops Reacher investigation and force Cooper to get out of his way. Deerfield pushed, and Cooper shoved back twice as hard.

  Gaspar said, “They’d both be alive if they’d come with me in the helicopter like I asked them to.”

  Smithers shook his head. “Deerfield would never have done that. He was headed into the house. They planned to blow him up. He lived a few minutes less, that’s all.”

  Kim nodded, “It was his day to die. Brice, too.”

  Gaspar said, “Who knew you were such a fatalist?”

  “My mother’s fault. I told you she’s like that,” Kim grinned. “She says when it’s your time, it’s your time. Not one moment more or less.”

  The departures board was flashing. Her plane had arrived and was at the gate. Once it emptied and the crew cleaned up, she’d be leaving. Her stomach was already doing backflips. She really hated flying.

  Smithers said, “Two issues are still open. We don’t know why Samir and Tariq believed there were bodies under the house. Or why those snowmobiles exploded.”

  “Farid is the most likely answer for both, isn’t he?” Gaspar asked.

  “One snowmobile malfunction killing one of them might have been a coincidence. But two? That’s deliberate,” Smithers replied. “And Farid wasn’t out there. I was with him in the safe house.”

  Gaspar shrugged. Kim shook her head. But they’d discussed this before Smithers a
rrived. Reacher must have done it. They’d been worried that Reacher had rigged the house, too. He was the big man on the video who went down to the snowmobiles while Samir and Tariq were setting up the explosion. Then he went into the house, walked around, and came out. He had means and opportunity. Besides, unlike drowning naked women in green paint, blowing up the Petrosian brothers was precisely the kind of thing he would do.

  Reacher’s motive was probably personal, like the others. Maybe he still thought they’d killed the love of his life. Or maybe he just wanted to be sure they never killed anyone again.

  Kim shrugged. “My money’s on Farid, anyway.”

  “Why?” Smithers asked.

  “Farid orchestrated the whole thing. He sent the blonde woman from the real estate agency into the house to replace the batteries in his surveillance cameras. That’s how he got the video recording of Poulton putting the body in the tub. We know he told Brice who told Deerfield about it, too.” Kim paused to think about it. “Samir and Tariq must have killed a couple of their crew and told Farid to bury them under the house, though. Farid lied about the names when he told Brice. He also lied to his brothers about putting the bodies in the foundation. Otherwise, Samir and Tariq would never have tried so hard to stop Deerfield from exposing them.”

  “Makes sense.” Smithers glanced at his watch and seemed alarmed. “Sorry. I’m out of time. I’m meeting my wife in the city.”

  They said their goodbyes, and she watched him walk away. He was one of the good guys. She was as sure of it now as she’d been that first day. Maybe they’d have a chance to work together again sometime.

  The boarding announcement for her flight broadcast over the public-address system. Gaspar’s flight would be called soon, too. She tossed a couple of twenties on the table to cover the bill and the tip.

  “Hang on there, Sunshine. Let’s talk about true love,” Gaspar said. “Reacher’s in the wind again. Jodie Jacob’s gone, too. Think they’re together?”

  “You Latinos are so romantic.” Kim smiled and shook her head. “But you know what? I actually don’t think they’re together. Jodie said she hadn’t heard from him in years. She said he would never settle down, and I had the feeling she’s looking for that now.”

  Gaspar had seemed preoccupied all day. His flight was leaving ten minutes after hers. But he had something to say, and she wished he’d spit it out already.

  “You’re killing me, here, Cheech. What’s on your mind?” she teased as she drank the last of her water.

  “Yeah. I tried to bring this up a couple of times before. Straight up is probably the best way to say it.” He looked across the table and cleared his throat. “I’m thinking about changing jobs.”

  “What?” She stared back.

  “I’ve been recruited a few times over the years. Always rejected everything. But now… I’ve got five kids, you know? This job doesn’t pay enough. Never has. And it’s getting harder to stay out of the line of fire.”

  “That again? Come on. If you’d jumped out and tried to save Brice, you’d be dead now, too. He could have come with you. He didn’t. That’s not your fault, Zorro.”

  “I know. But the offer’s good this time. A firm based in Houston. Private investigations. Pretty high end. Follow the money, take a cut. Fewer bullets flying, less travel.” He shrugged.

  She didn’t know what to say. Of course, she wanted him to do what was best for him and his family. Selfishly, she didn’t want him to quit.

  But she understood the urge to go. She’d been wondering some of the same things herself lately. She couldn’t make great arguments for sticking with the bureau anymore.

  “I’m just thinking about it. Haven’t made a decision yet. I’m in no shape to return to work yet, anyway. I’ll be parked behind a desk for a while.” He smiled weakly, and she smiled back. Because what else could she do?

  She glanced at the departures board. The final boarding light was flashing.

  “I’ve got to go. Give Marie and the kids a hug for me, Chico,” she said as she collected her bags.

  “You bet, Suzy Wong. Don’t be a stranger,” he replied with a grin before she could get too far away. “And what about that Treasury Agent. What’s his name again?”

  She walked backward for a few steps so she could keep eye contact. “John Lawton. What about him?”

  “Nothing going on there?” Gaspar asked.

  “You never give up, do you?” She smiled and turned and walked quickly to her gate, wondering when she’d see him again.

  Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket with a text. She fished it out on the run and read the text from an unfamiliar number. “Jodie says thanks for everything. Fear of flying is completely irrational. See you when I see you. R.”

  * * *

  Otto and Gaspar’s Hunt for Jack Reacher continues in

  TEN TWO JACK

  Click Here for Details

  Have you read all of Diane Capri’s Hunt for Jack Reacher books so far? More adventures with Otto and Gaspar are coming soon! Pre-Order TEN TWO JACK so the next book shows up on your ereader as soon as it releases.

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  The Hunt for Jack Reacher Series:

  (in publication order with Lee Child source books in parentheses)

  Don’t Know Jack • (Killing Floor)

  Jack in a Box (novella)

  Jack and Kill (novella)

  Get Back Jack • (Bad Luck and Trouble)

  Jack in the Green (novella)

  Jack and Joe • (The Enemy)

  Deep Cover Jack • (Persuader)

  Jack the Reaper • (The Hard Way)

  Black Jack • (Running Blind / The Visitor)

  ~ Turn the page for more books by Diane Capri ~

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  For a complete list of Diane Capri Books visit:

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  (Click each title to buy or download a sample)

  The Jess Kimball Thrillers Series:

  Fatal Enemy (novella)

  Fatal Distraction

  Fatal Demand

  Fatal Error

  Fatal Fall

  Fatal Edge (novella)

  Fatal Game

  Fatal Bond

  Fatal Past (novella)

  Fatal Dawn (coming soon)

  The Hunt for Justice Series:

  Due Justice

  Twisted Justice

  Secret Justice

  Wasted Justice

  Raw Justice

  Mistaken Justice (novella)

  Cold Justice (novella)

  False Justice (novella)

  Fair Justice (novella)

  True Justice (novella)

  The Heir Hunter Series:

  Blood Trails

  Trace Evidence

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Diane Capri is an award-winning New York Times, USA Today, and worldwide bestselling author. She’s a recovering lawyer and snowbird who divides her time between Florida and Michigan. An active member of Mystery Writers of America, Author’s Guild, International Thriller Writers, Alliance of Independent Authors, and Sisters in Crime, she loves to hear from readers and is hard at work on her next novel.

  Please connect with her online:

  http://www.DianeCapri.com

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  EXCLUSIVE BEHIND-THE-SCENES AUTHOR NOTES

  Black Jack

  by Diane Capri

  Black Jack is the sixth novel in Diane Capri’s Hunt for Jack Reacher Series starring FBI Special Agents Kim Otto and Carlos Gaspar. Assigned to complete a tho
rough background check on Reacher, who is being considered for a secret classified assignment, Otto and Gaspar become pawns in a deadly test of guile, grit, and courage. Hunting Reacher is dangerous business. Is Reacher friend or enemy? This question arises throughout the series.

  As they travel the country and the world seeking out details about the deadly vigilante some call hero and others call criminal, Otto and Gaspar’s stories excite and enthrall readers the world over. More than two million readers have become fans of Diane Capri’s Hunt for Jack Reacher Series and breathlessly await each new book.

  ~ ~ ~

  Writing a series that spins new stories from an existing canon like Lee Child’s immensely popular Jack Reacher novels is a huge challenge for me. Many of my readers have never read a Jack Reacher novel. Others have read every Reacher novel several times and know the background extremely well. Crafting a story to satisfy both types of readers is one tough project, let me tell you.

  It’s also lots of fun for all of us. I’m not writing sequels or fan fiction here. My novels are new and original stories. I use a Lee Child novel as the source book and create an exciting thriller filled with mystery and suspense for Otto and Gaspar fans. All with my friend Lee Child’s full permission and support.

  As I prepare to write each book in my series, I begin with the same question: which source book should I choose? Black Jack’s source book is Running Blind (titled The Visitor in the UK).

  I chose Running Blind/The Visitor based on several factors, including the book’s various settings. I write about places I’ve personally visited, usually several times.