Page 121 of Bulletproof Jack: Hunting Lee Child's Jack Reacher

Kim took a bigger sip of the wine and flipped the postcard over to take a closer look at the professional images of the tunnel again. A red circle had been drawn around the center image. She held the card under a brighter light.

The tunnel photos refreshed the nightmare of Westwood’s death.

These professional photos were taken during daylight. They were meant to be enticing to tourists.

Her nighttime experiences on that very spot were hellish. She had no desire to repeat them.

But this message came from someone who’d been there and knew she’d been there, too.

Reacher. He’d contacted her directly. He wanted her to come.

With a grimace of regret, she poured the Brunello down the sink and rinsed her glass.

Only one choice. Kim had to go back.

First, she called Gaspar.

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Chapter 48

Sunday, June 5

Detroit, Michigan

Kim traveled light this time. No bags. No laptop. A new gun. One she’d never used before and could not be traced back to her.

No passport. No credit cards. Only Canadian money in her pockets.

She expected to be gone for a few hours.

She’d meet with Reacher. Discover what he wanted. Come home.

That’s as far as she was prepared to go for now. A simple plan.

“I don’t like this, Suzy Wong,” Gaspar had said, just as she’d expected.

“I have to go. I can’t refuse. I’ve been hunting Reacher for more than seven months. He wants to talk. I’m going,” she declared, brooking no argument. “Will you help me get there and back or not?”

“What did Cooper say?”

“You know I didn’t tell him. And I’m not going to tell him. Not until I know what’s going on,” Kim replied.

“Wait a couple of days. Flint is out of the country. When he comes back, he’ll go with you. Be your wing man.”

“No.”

“Then let me come along. I’m not helpless, you know.”

“No.”

The discussion had continued like that for a while, but in the end, Gaspar gave in. He had arranged transportation in exchange for her promise that he could notify Russell if this thing went south.

She refused to concede more.

The ride from the helipad atop her apartment building in Detroit to the casino helipad in Niagara Falls was faster and much more nerve-racking than driving again. They’d traveled the faster route across the lake and through Canada.

The helo would pick her up in Niagara Falls when she was finished and fly her home.

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