The Affair_ A Reacher Novel - Lee Child [117]
“How long will it last?”
“About two years, probably.”
“Who was the officer?”
“It’s a fairly new car, isn’t it? Must have been a fairly recent death.”
“Frazer?”
“It’s easier for the motor pool to do the paperwork first thing in the morning. We were all counting on you. If anything had gone wrong we’d all have had red faces.”
“I might have arrested him instead.”
“Same thing. Dead or busted, it makes no difference to the motor pool.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’re due on post. Garber wants to see you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s three hours away.”
“So sit back and relax. This might be the last rest you get for a spell.”
“I thought you didn’t like Deveraux.”
“Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t help her if she was worried. I think there’s something wrong with her, that’s all. How long have you known her?”
“Four days,” I said.
“And I bet you could already tell me four weird things about her.”
I said, “I should try to call her, if she’s worried.”
“I already tried,” Neagley said. “From the scheduler’s phone. While you were giving Frazer all that theoretical shit. I was going to tell her you were nearly home and dry. But she didn’t answer. A whole Sheriff’s Department, and no one picked up.”
“Perhaps they’re busy.”
“Perhaps they are. Because there’s something else you need to know. I checked a rumor from the sergeants’ network. The ground crew at Benning says the Blackhawk that came in from Kelham on Sunday was empty. Apart from the pilots, of course. No passenger, is what they meant. Reed Riley didn’t go anywhere. He’s still on the post.”
Chapter
68
I took Neagley’s advice and relaxed through the rest of the ride. It took a lot less than three hours. The Buick was much faster than a bus. And Neagley pushed it much harder than a bus driver would. I was back on post by three-thirty. I had been gone exactly twenty-four hours.
I went straight to my quarters and took off the fancy Class As and cleaned my teeth and took a shower. Then I put on BDUs with a T-shirt and went to see what Garber wanted.
Garber wanted to show me a confidential file from the Marine Corps. That was the purpose of his summons. But first came a short question-and-answer session. It didn’t go well. It was very unsatisfactory. I asked the questions, and he refused to answer them.
And he refused to make eye contact.
I asked, “Who did they arrest in Mississippi?”
He said, “Read the file.”
“I would like to know.”
“Read the file first.”
“Do they have a good case or is it bullshit?”
“Read the file.”
“Was it the same guy for all three women?”
“Read the file first.”
“Civilian, right?”
“Read the damn file, Reacher.”
He wouldn’t let me take the file away. It had to remain under his personal control at all times. Under his eye throughout, technically, but he didn’t follow the letter of the law on that point. He stepped out of his office and closed the door quietly and left me alone with it.
It was about a quarter of an inch thick, cased in a jacket that was a different shade of khaki than the army uses. Better quality, too. It was smooth and crisp, only a little scraped and scuffed by the passage of time. It had red chevrons on all four edges, presumably denoting some elevated level of secrecy. It had a white stick-on label with a USMC file number printed on it, and a date five years in the past.
It had a second label with a name printed on it.
DEVERAUX, E.
Her name was followed by her rank, which was CWO5, and her service number, and her date of birth, which was fairly close to mine. Near the bottom edge of the jacket was a third stick-on, slightly misaligned, taken from a long roll of preprinted tape. I guessed it was supposed to say Do Not Open Unless Authorized but it had been cut at the wrong interval so that in reality it said Open Unless Authorized Do Not. Bureaucracy can be full of accidental humor.
But the contents of the file were