Page 7 of Bulletproof Jack: Hunting Lee Child's Jack Reacher

Nothing in the two back pockets of his trousers.

In his left front pocket she found a flimsy generic key card with no identifying marks on it. The kind hotels issued to unlock electronic door locks. Which was probably how he’d gained entry to the building.

When she had the chance to examine the CCTV footage, she’d confirm. But how could he have come inside?

And where was the damn doorman, anyway? They paid him a small fortune to be sure intrudersnevercame inside. When she found the doorman, he’d better have a damn good explanation.

In the man’s right front pocket, she found a high-end encrypted burner cell phone. Nothing else.

The phone had been used several times. Kim thumbed through three pages of call logs, beginning six days ago. Friday, May 27.

Every call, coming and going, connected to a single phone number, as if the burner was nothing more than a long-distance walkie-talkie.

The calls were short. None lasted more than ten minutes.

There were no voicemail messages, although the phone seemed to have that capacity. No text messages, either.

The obvious thing to do was to call the number on the call log. But not yet.

She needed to be better informed when she made the call. She might need backup, too, depending on who answered and where he was at the moment.

Hell, the guy at the other end of the phone could be the one who shot the dead man.

She was tired and sleepy, and she needed caffeine. No reason not to knock it back. She wasn’t likely to get any sleep for a while anyway.

Kim went into the kitchen and set her phone, her gun, the DNA kits, and the contents of the dead man’s pockets onto the table while she made coffee.

When the coffee began to brew, sending the delicious nutty aroma throughout her apartment, she returned her backup pistol to the table near the door.

After that, she took another quick shower to wash off the imagined stench of the dead man.

By that time the coffee was ready and she had developed her preliminary plan.

She poured a cup of hot black java. While it cooled, she collected a special encrypted cell phone from her bag and then returned to her seat.

First things first.

Get the dead body out of her apartment with as little fanfare as possible.

What was the best way to make that happen?

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Chapter 3

Friday, June 3

Detroit, MI

Kim’s neighbors would be sleeping by now. People had to go to work tomorrow.

If the body was extracted in the next couple of hours, she might avoid witnesses posing too many questions.

It might help to know who the man was, but learning his name was her second priority. She already knew the most important essentials.

Mr. X was smart enough to breach her security and make sure he couldn’t be easily identified if something went wrong.

He was an operative. No doubt in her mind. But an operative for whom? Government or private citizen? Foreign or domestic?

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