Page 65 of Bulletproof Jack: Hunting Lee Child's Jack Reacher

Audrey spun the wheel of the sedan all the way to the left and made a U-turn onto Queen Street.

The drive to Hamilton, Ontario, was almost fifty miles. According to the GPS, an hour of drive time, mostly along Queen Elizabeth Way, a limited access highway.

At this hour, Audrey could shave a few minutes off the drive time if she were willing to risk a traffic stop. She wasn’t.

Better to stay under the radar.

Follow the rules of the road and get to Krause without unnecessary delay.

That was the plan.

When she’d entered the highway, Audrey pressed the call back button on her phone. The call rang a few times before Krause picked up.

“Hello,” he mumbled like a man awakened from a sound sleep. Which he probably was.

“Krause? It’s Audrey. Sorry. I got caught up in something,” she said, as if his message had been friendly, or even polite. Which it wasn’t. “I’m on my way. Should be there in an hour. Or less, if I’m lucky.”

He didn’t bother to reply. After a minute of silence, Audrey disconnected and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.

She called Brax and left a brief and cryptic status report. She had no reason to believe her communications were being monitored. But she hadn’t made it this far by taking unnecessary chances.

Audrey’s fingers itched to call Morin and gloat. Fox was dead. Thus, Morin’s assassin of choice had failed. She laughed.

Victory was so close she could feel it, taste it, hear it like a symphony in her head complete with the pounding of those big Japanese taiko drums she’d seen performed in Tokyo. How sweet it was.

She could almost hear the drums. Loud, snappy, rapid, spirited.

An exceptionally loud boom caught her attention and she laughed again. It was actual thunder. Clouds were gathering. A storm was headed her way.

The thunder drew her attention back to business.

But she didn’t call Morin to gloat that she’d bested him once again. Not yet. She savored her pole position for a bit longer.

Morin would learn of his defeat soon enough.

She’d asked Brax to deliver the final smackdown when she was present. He’d promised, of course. He’d had no choice, given his compromising sexual position when she made the demand.

Her goal now was to find Liam Stuart and the prototype and get them back where they belonged.

She smiled again. Krause had handed Liam Stuart to her like a cake on a plate.

Audrey had suggested the possibility of sex, of course. That’s all it took. No need for a quick sample to prove the worth of her offer. Krause had been going through a dry spell, she figured.

He was practically salivating.

Which was more than a little disgusting.

Hell, if she’d had sex with the old geezer, he’d probably have died in the act.

Which would have been okay. Krause was expendable. He’d be dead by Tuesday, one way or the other.

Sooner would be just fine with Audrey. The less she was required to deal with the cranky old bastard, the better.

Stuart might already be at Krause’s place when Audrey arrived. Now that would be sweet.

Krause lived in a single-family home in the historic Ancaster district. She’d been there a couple of times. It was an affluent bedroom community for Hamilton, Ontario, and surrounding areas.

Krause’s home was situated on a two-acre parcel outside of town, within easy driving distance of Toronto.

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