Page 15 of In Too Deep

When he was done with the coffee Reacher picked up the phone from the table next to the bed, hit 9 for an outside line, and dialed a number from memory. The call was answered after two rings. A man’s voice came on the line. It said, “This is Wallwork.”

Ronny Wallwork was an FBI agent. His path had crossed Reacher’s a couple of times over the last few years. Reacher felt their interactions had been pretty equitable. If anything, he would say Wallwork had got the fairer shake due to the regulations and bureaucracy he brought with him. Wallwork saw their encounters in a whole different light. Things had always panned out. He couldn’t deny that. But he didn’t look back on their exchanges with any degree of pleasure. Or even satisfaction. To him, they were like bullets he had somehow managed to dodge.

“Wallwork, this is Reacher.”

The line was silent for a moment, then Wallwork said, “I told you to forget this number.”

“True. But you didn’t hang up.”

“Because I have manners. But I can’t help you. Whatever it is, find someone else.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Then why are you bothering me?”

“I heard a rumor. It could be serious.”

“Call the tip line. You might get a reward.”

“It’s most likely BS. But if it isn’t…”

Wallwork resisted for a long moment, then said, “Go on. What have you heard?”

“One of your guys has been killed. In a car wreck. While working undercover.”

“Damn. When?”

“Today. Around 1:00p.m.”

“Where?”

“In the Ozarks. I don’t know the name of the nearest town. I’ll send you the coordinates.”

“You saw the body?”

“No.”

“Where is it now?”

“That’s unclear.”

“Who told you this?”

“A member of the group this alleged agent apparently infiltrated.”

“Do you believe the guy? You said his story was BS.”

“Most of it is twenty-four carat BS, I’m sure. Like how he followed this agent to a meeting with his handler and eavesdropped on their conversation. Sounds about as likely as him spotting a fish wearing roller skates. But a couple of other things he said—I don’t know. I can’t rule them out.”

“Such as?”

“The place this alleged meeting took place is plausible. I asked what the handler looked like and he didn’t miss a beat. The description he gave could hold up in court, right down to her wearing shoes she could run in and not having any jewelry that could get snagged in a fight. Same goes for the car he said she drove away in.”

“Why would he tell you those things, whether they’re true or not?”

“He thinks I have a beef with his boss. He claims he’s done with the outfit and wants to quit with more than his share of the ill-gotten gains. I think he’s worried I’ll burn it all down before he can do that. So he’s trying to play it two ways. He wants me to help him. Failing that, he wants to scare me off.”

“Do you have a beef with the boss?”

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