Full Metal Jack

by Diane Capri

  A sign declared Carter’s Crossing Established 1853 and proudly pointed out that the town was listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Current population 8,628. Which meant the rest of Carter County was still sparsely settled, even after more than a hundred years.

  When Reacher was here fifteen years ago, the population of the town and the whole county was only twelve hundred souls. Back then, the town had consisted of the west side and the east side, literally divided by the railroad tracks.

  If Kelham had not been located east of the few rickety residences on the wrong side of the tracks, there would have been almost no business of any kind to support citizens on either side. As it was, when Reacher came through, roadside bars on the good side of the tracks provided jobs, food, and not much else to speak of.

  Things were obviously different now, like Chief Greyson had said. Prosperity had come to Carter’s Crossing once again.

  Main Street was deserted tonight, partly because of the weather. Smooth concrete sidewalks abutted the asphalt. Red brick-faced buildings abutted one another on the sidewalks’ opposite edge. Old-fashioned streetlights cast weak shadows in the gloomy rain.

  She peered through the windshield. The hotel she wanted was the historic one, most likely where Reacher had stayed because it had been the only one in town back then. Toussaint’s Inn, it was called. Located near the middle of Main Street on the west side.

  The usual discount hotel chains had popped up on streets off the main drag, according to the signs she’d seen back on US 72. She could move to one of them if the historic place proved unsuitable.

  But she figured Toussaint’s had been gentrified like everything else in the town. If he showed up at all, Reacher might come back there.

  On the way to Toussaint’s, she’d passed a diner that was still open. After she got settled, she’d come back for food. Diners were places where the locals hung out. She might get lucky. Find someone who knew something useful about the murder. Or Kelham. Or Chief Greyson. Maybe even get some intel on Reacher.

  Wishful thinking on all counts, but stranger things had happened.

  When she saw the hotel, she wasn’t disappointed. Her intuition had been spot-on. The building had been restored to better than its original glory. She anticipated fresh sheets and a hot shower in her future.

  Toussaint’s looked like it had been transplanted from the French Quarter in New Orleans. It was painted green with white trim and moldings and had iron railings on the second floor balconies. A row of floodlights in the bushes surrounding the perimeter washed the façade with a welcoming glow.

  There must have been a guest parking lot somewhere, but for now, she angle parked out front. After wrestling her rolling travel case and her laptop bag out of the back, she pulled them up the sidewalk toward the entrance.

  Kim took a deep breath of the damp fresh air. She shivered as a few drizzles of rain slid down her collar. She covered the short distance to the hotel, climbed six sturdy brick steps to the even wider verandah, and rolled her bag to the door.

  Inside, she found a square lobby brightly lit and furnished with antiques from a bygone era. A hardwood counter polished to a high sheen rested off to the right. Mounted on the wall behind it was a matrix of pigeonholes for the old-fashioned room keys. Four high, seven wide. Twenty-eight keys for twenty-eight rooms.

  All the keys were in place. Maybe there was something wrong with the rooms in this place, after all. She hoped not. It had been a long day. All she wanted was a meal followed by a hot shower and some sleep, and she didn’t want to travel any further to find them.

  Through the window, she saw a woman behind the counter peering through her reading glasses at a computer screen. Dark hair, parted in the middle, hung over her shoulder. Brown eyes, dark lashes, full eyebrows with a natural arch. Skin the color of caramel.

  When Kim opened the door, the woman looked up and flashed a welcoming smile.

  “Come in. Come in,” she said, waving Kim forward. “The weather’s horrible out tonight, isn’t it?”

  “Absolutely awful,” Kim smiled. She nodded toward the pigeonholes. “Looks like you’ve got availability for a few nights?”

  “Oh, those old keys are just for show. They don’t even work anymore.” She lifted her chin for a clear view above the computer screen. Her voice was softly Southern and friendly. “I’m the manager here. Janine Wood.”

  “Nice to meet you, Janine. I’m Kim Otto,” she extended her hand and they shook.

  “The tribe owns this place now,” Janine said, still smiling. “When we upgraded the hotel, we installed all new systems. Plumbing, heating, electrical, fire suppression, security, the works. New door locks and keys, too.”

  “The tribe?” Kim asked, cocking her head.

  “The Eastern Band of Native Americans. We bought the place a few years back. An elderly couple owned it before. When they died, the hotel fell into bankruptcy.” She smiled and patted the wood desk with her palm. “These old hotels are a part of our heritage. We didn’t want to see the old girl demolished and a modern no-tell motel installed in the center of town. So we bought it. Put some money into it. She’s the star of Main Street now.”

  “Good to know. The place is lovely. You’ve done a great job with the restorations.” Kim said.

  Janine nodded appreciatively.

  Kim’s stomach growled. It had been a long time since she’d had a meal. “Sorry. I need to get some dinner. I don’t have a reservation. Do you have any rooms?”

  “Absolutely. How long are you staying with us?” She turned her attention to the screen again, clacking keys on the keyboard.

  “I’m not sure. Depends on how things go.” Kim pulled her credit card out and placed it on the counter.

  “No problem. We usually have space during the week. Fill up on the weekends. Tourists like to stay here when they come to the casino,” Janine said, fingers speeding over the keys, filling the room with echoing clicks. “So let’s book you through to Monday, just in case. You can always check out early. No penalty for that.”

  “Is your kitchen still open?” Kim glanced at the big grandfather clock in the corner. It was almost ten o’clock. In a town like Carter’s Crossing, the late-night dining choices were likely few and the food greasy.

  “I’m afraid we don’t have a dining room, and we only have room service for breakfast,” Janine said, still dealing with the reservation and checking Kim’s credit card and all the other tasks associated with getting her room established.

  “How about that diner down the street? Any good?” Kim jerked her thumb in the right direction.

  “Libby’s? Closes at ten. But Libby always stays open for me. I eat dinner there every night. I was just about to head over when you came in,” Janine said, picking up the keys and offering the paperwork to Kim for signature. “I can recommend the cheeseburger and fries. Best in town.”

  “That’d be great. I’ll stash my bags in my room and go straight over.” She didn’t want to miss her last chance to get food tonight that didn’t come out of a cellophane package.

  “If you’d like company…” Janine said, her voice trailing off.

  “I’d like that,” Kim said, on her way up the stairs to her room. “Let me stash this stuff and wash my hands. I’ll be right back.”

  Janine Wood might know everything there was to know about Carter’s Crossing. She seemed friendly enough. She could be a valuable ally.

  She grabbed the rolling travel bag in one hand and tossed the laptop case strap over her shoulder and hoofed up the stairs to the second floor.

  Room Seventeen was on the street side. She swiped the key card, pushed the door open with her hip, and stepped inside. A glance was all she needed to see the room wasn’t the Four Seasons, but it would be suitable for her needs.

  Clean, tidy, and spacious, the room had a queen-sized bed, a loveseat across from the television, and a small desk with a chair. She couldn’t have a dinner party in there, but she didn’t plan to.


  She left her bags, used the bathroom, and washed up, spent five seconds on the rest of her appearance, and rejoined Janine Wood downstairs.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Wednesday, May 11

  Carter’s Crossing, Mississippi

  9:35 p.m.

  Janine was ready when Kim’s feet hit the ground floor. They quick-stepped through the blowing rain with heads down until they reached Libby’s Diner. Janine pulled the door open, allowed Kim to enter first, and then followed, pulling the door against the wind to close it again.

  Libby’s Diner was a narrow building, like a box of saltines, the short end on Main Street and the opposite end abutting the alley. It shared walls with the buildings on each side, both of which had been constructed in the post-Reacher era. The diner must have stood alone and apart when Reacher was here. The only windows overlooked Main Street.

  The décor was retro to about 1960 or so, complete with an old-fashioned payphone on the wall inside the front door. Beyond the register and hostess station, the interior was divided by a long straight aisle with tables on both sides. Tables for four on the left and tables for two on the right. In the back were restrooms, one on either side of the aisle, and a swinging door that led to the kitchen.

  At this hour, there was no hostess. Nor any hungry patrons. The place was almost deserted. Only one table was occupied, by a lone female deep in thought, palming an empty coffee cup and staring at a clean plate.

  Kim recognized her from the Boss’s files. Mayor Elizabeth Deveraux.

  “Libby will be right out,” Janine said, grabbing a menu and leading the way down the aisle to a table for four about halfway back.

  When they approached Deveraux’s table, Janine said, “Hey, Liz. How’s it going?”

  Deveraux blinked as if she’d been involuntarily jerked into the present. Then, like every politician everywhere, she slipped into her public persona. “As well as can be expected. You?”

  “I’m good. Late dinner tonight,” Janine said, nodding toward Deveraux’s empty plate.

  “Late dinner every night. Work comes first. Hard habit to break,” Deveraux said with a smile. She turned a wide-eyed gaze toward Kim. “Welcome to Carter’s Crossing. What brings you here?”

  Kim shook her head. “I’m here on business for a couple of days.”

  Deveraux, if she knew who Kim was and why she was here, took the hint. Or maybe she was simply tired after a long day of dealing with whatever Carter’s Crossing citizens tossed in her path. Either way, the conversation stopped there.

  Kim might have said more, if they’d been alone, but she didn’t want to get into anything in front of Janine. So she said nothing.

  Janine took the hint. “I’m hungry. Let’s get our order in before Libby closes up for the night. We can sit back here.”

  Deveraux narrowed her gaze slightly and offered a dismissive smile. “Enjoy your time in Carter’s Crossing.”

  “Thanks.” Kim nodded and followed Janine to the table she’d selected.

  From force of habit, Kim chose the seat that put her back to the wall, providing a view of both the front and rear of the diner. Deveraux tossed a few bills on the table and left.

  “Would you like a beer? There’s only a few choices. Nothing fancy.” Janine asked, handing the beer menu to Kim.

  She didn’t open it. “Whatever you’re having.”

  Janine walked toward the back and disappeared into an alcove beyond the restrooms that Kim hadn’t realized was there. After a few seconds, she emerged with two long-necked bottles and two frosty glasses. She placed them on the table and plopped into the chair across from Kim.

  She raised the bottle and said, “Cheers.”

  “Cheers,” Janine replied. She took a healthy swig and swallowed. “Libby’ll be here in about five minutes with our food. I told her we wanted cheeseburgers and fries. Right?”

  “Perfect.” Kim swallowed the beer and the moment of companionable silence lasted a bit longer.

  She could have steered the conversation, but she wondered whether Janine Wood had a reason for inviting herself to dinner with a total stranger. So she waited.

  “I’m guessing your business in town isn’t at the casino,” Janine finally said. She didn’t sound worried, but perhaps she was.

  “Why’d you guess that?”

  “Gamblers come in all shapes and sizes, but you don’t look like the type to me.”

  Kim smiled. “Why not?”

  Janine shrugged and took another swig from the bottle. “You seem like you’re wrapped too tight for a gambler. Most of the gamblers we get into Toussaint’s don’t travel with a laptop or arrive in a rented Lexus. They don’t wear suits, either. I pegged you for a federal agent of some sort. No offense.”

  “None taken.” Kim grinned. “Why’d you think I was a federal agent? Why not just a local cop from somewhere?”

  “We get a lot of feds coming through here. Because of Kelham and the casino and the railroad.” Janine replied.

  Kim nodded and flashed a genuine smile. “As it happens, I’m good at blackjack and I have a degree in accounting. I like math.”

  “Huh. I’m usually better at reading people.” Janine cocked her head as if she was genuinely puzzled. Maybe she was. “So you are here for the casino, then?”

  “No.”

  Janine’s eyes widened with surprise, and then she threw back her head and laughed with gusto. After a while, she said, “You got me. Nice one.”

  Kim smiled and raised the long-neck again. They both drank. Then she said, “Why do you care about my reason for being in town? No offense.”

  Janine laughed again. Genuine mirth. “I like you, Kim Otto. You’re direct. And you’re quick. I’ll need to stay on my game when you’re around, won’t I?”

  Kim saw movement in the back of the diner in her peripheral vision. The swinging doors to the kitchen opened wide revealing a sturdy woman, about fifty. A blond bubble of curly hair framed her full face. Libby, presumably. Carrying two plates piled high with enormous burgers and a nest of shoestring fries. The heavenly smell wafted toward the table, preceding her arrival and making Kim’s stomach growl again.

  “Here you go,” she said, placing the two plates in front of them.

  “Libby, this is Kim Otto. She’s staying at Toussaint’s for a few days. I told her your cheeseburgers were the best in Mississippi,” Janine said.

  “Folks say that, and we sell a lot of them. Who am I to disagree?” Her vibe said she’d had a long day already and she wanted to go home. But she mustered a smile for a new customer that didn’t reach her tired eyes. “Truth is, I’m not sure how much experience they have eating burgers at other places, though.”

  “From the smell alone, I can already tell your reputation is well deserved,” Kim said truthfully.

  Libby might have blushed because of the compliment. Or maybe she was just hot and tired and overworked. Hard to say.

  “Glad to have you here, Kim. Come back any time. I’ll let you eat while your food’s hot. Save room for pie,” she said as she hurried back to the kitchen.

  They fell on the food like hungry wolves. Kim enjoyed every bite, resisting the urge to lick her fingers. Even as hearty as her appetite was, she couldn’t finish.

  “I swear, this thing is the size of half a cow.” She pushed her plate away, uncomfortably full.

  Janine finished every last morsel of the burger and all of the fries, too. She wiped the mayonnaise off her lips and the grease from her fingers with the napkin. “I only have time for one meal a day, and I’m always starving.”

  Kim hadn’t seen anyone eat that much since her teenage brothers left the family farm. “Does that mean you’re also going to have the pie?”

  “Absolutely. You should, too. Libby’s mother bakes them. The woman’s eighty years old and bakes like an angel.” Janine stood, collected their empty plates, and ferried them to the kitchen.

  Minutes later, she returned with two pieces of peach pie a la
mode about half the size of a major league home plate. “Libby’s bringing the coffee.”

  Kim’s stomach was too full to eat pie, no matter how good it was. If the weather had been better, she’d have suggested a long walk before they went back to the hotel.

  After Libby brought the coffee and two plastic mugs and left again, Janine folded her arms on the table and said, “So are you going to tell me why you’re here or not? Because I’m thinking it has something to do with Bonnie Nightingale’s murder.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Wednesday, May 11

  Carter’s Crossing, Mississippi

  10:05 p.m.

  Like Libby’s cheeseburgers and fries, the coffee was exceptional. Libby should move her diner to a bigger town. She’d be the hottest place around, with food like that.

  “Did you know Bonnie Nightingale?” Kim asked, lifting her fork to be polite.

  Janine nodded. “Everyone did. Carter’s Crossing is a small town. Lots of us have been living here for decades. Bonnie, too.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “You should ask Scott Greyson, the sheriff. He has real information. All I know is the gossip,” Janine replied in a subdued tone. She continued eating the pie, but her gusto had disappeared.

  “I’ve got an appointment with Chief Greyson tomorrow. But it might help if you’d share the gossip, too.” Kim took a small bite of the pie while she waited for Janine to work out whatever issue she seemed to have with the request.

  “Bonnie was a party girl. Always had been, even back when we were kids. When the guys from Kelham had leave, she liked to hang out in the bars. Nothing illegal or anything. They’d buy her drinks, and she would play pool or sing karaoke, that’s all.” Janine shrugged, looking down at her coffee and moving the fork around on the plate. “You know, the usual kind of thing single women do in small towns when they want some excitement, and there’s none to be had.”