“But what sort of a thing?” I asked her. “What was his job?”
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“No,” I said. “We found it very hard to keep in touch, I’m afraid. You’ll have to start from the beginning for me.”
There was a long pause on the line.
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“Counterfeiting?” I said. “Counterfeit money?”
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“But why was he down here in Georgia?” I asked her.
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“I’m out of here,” I said.
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“Sorry for your loss,” he said.
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“You upset my son,” he said.
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“The kid upset me first,” I said.
“How?” Kliner asked. Sharply.
“He lived and breathed?” I said.
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No reason not to tell him. Not that I could see.
“Jack Reacher,” I said.
“You got any Hispanic friends in town?”
“No,” I said.
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I looked at him. He scanned the street.
“Who were they?” I asked him.
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“This morning,” he said. “After breakfast.”
I nodded.
“OK,” I said. “Thanks.”
The guy held the door open for me.
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“Thanks,” I said again. “See you around.”
“Sure hope so, son,” he said.
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“We got the community money,” he said.
“You do?” I said. “What’s that?”
“Thousand dollars,” he said.
“Who gives you that?” I asked him.
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I nodded.
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I paid him and got out. The guy was crazy.
“Say hello to my sister,” he called after me.
17
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“May I say what it’s in connection with?”
“I’m a friend,” I said.
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“I’m looking for Paul Hubble,” I said.
“May I know why?”
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