Diane Capri - Don't Know Jack

Dont Know Jack is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Dear Friends,

Thank you for buying this copy of Dont Know Jack: A Hunt for Jack Reacher Thriller. No one loves Jack Reacher more than I do and Im very excited to share this new novel in my runaway bestseller series, The Hunt for Jack Reacher Series with you. More than a million readers have already enjoyed the Hunt for Jack Reacher Series books including Jack Reachers creator, thank heavens! Whew!

The first question new readers usually ask me is how Im allowed to write about Jack Reacher. The short answer is that Lee Child and I are friends, and hes a big fan of my work. I write these books with his full support, for which Im eternally and unrelentingly grateful

I hope youll see right away why #1 worldwide publishing phenomenon Lee Child calls my work, Full of thrills and tension, but smart and human, too. And why Lee gave the series an enthusiastic two thumbs up when he said, Kim Otto is a great, great character. I love her!

The second question I often hear is about the source books. As many of you already know, every Hunt for Jack Reacher Series novel uses one of Lee Childs Reacher novels as its source book. Because Dont Know Jack is the first book in my series, naturally, Ive used the first book in Lee Childs series to start, Killing Floor. The source books are fun to read either before or after my Hunt for Jack Reacher Series books, and readers tell me they love both. Each of my books is a complete story and like the Jack Reacher novels, mine do not need to be read in any particular order.

The third most frequent question I get is when the next Hunt for Jack Reacher book will be published. Currently my series has eight books (five novels and three novellas). You can always find a complete list here: http://dianecapri.com/books/

And Im always working on a new book. Please sign up for my mailing list to receive advance notice of new releases and lots of other exclusive stuff for members only. You can do that here: http://dianecapri.com/get-involved/get-my-newsletter/

While youre waiting for a new Hunt for Jack Reacher Series book, please give my other books a try. I write several series, which I believe youll enjoy just as much. And either way, let me know what you think. You can write to me anytime, and I hope you will. Id love to get to know you better. You can always reach me here: http://dianecapri.com/get-involved/message/

Meanwhile, thanks so much for reading. Its an honor and a privilege to write for readers like you.

Caffeinate & Carry On!

Kim L. Otto

Carlos M. Gaspar

Charles Cooper

Lamont Finlay

Beverly Roscoe

Jacqueline Roscoe

Sylvia Black

Harry Black

Michael Hale

Marion Wallace

Archie Leach

Jim Leach

and

Jack Reacher

Do you understand your rights? he said again.

Again, I didnt respond. Long experience had taught me that absolute silence is the best way. Say something, and it can be misheard. Misunderstood. Misinterpreted. It can get you convicted. It can get you killed. Silence upsets the arresting officer. He has to tell you silence is your right but he hates it if you exercise that right. I was being arrested for murder. But I said nothing.

Monday, November 1

4:00 a.m.

Detroit, Michigan

Just the facts. And not many of them, either. Jack Reachers file was too stale and too thin to be credible. No human could be as invisible as Reacher appeared to be, whether he was currently above the ground or under it. Either the file had been sanitized, or Reacher was the most off-the-grid paranoid Kim Otto had ever heard of.

What had she missed?

At four in the morning the untraceable cell phone had vibrated on her bedside table. She had slept barely a hundred minutes. She cleared her throat, grabbed the phone, flipped it open, swung her legs out of bed, and said, FBI Special Agent Kim Otto.

The man said, Im sorry to call you so early, Otto.

She recognized the voice, even though she hadnt heard it for many years. He was still polite. Still undemanding. He didnt need to be demanding. His every request was always granted. No one thwarted him in any way for any reason. Ever.

She said, I was awake. She was lying, and she knew he knew it, and she knew he didnt care. He was the boss. And she owed him.

She walked across the bedroom and flipped on the bathroom light. It was harsh. She grimaced at herself in the mirror and splashed cold water on her face. She felt like shed tossed back a dozen tequila shots last night, and she was glad that she hadnt.

The voice asked, Can you be at the airport for the 5:30 flight to Atlanta?

Of course. Kim answered automatically, and set her mind to making it happen.

Showered, dressed, and seated on a plane in ninety minutes? Easy. Her apartment stood ten blocks from the FBIs Detroit Field Office, where a helicopter waited, ever ready. She picked up her personal cell and began texting the duty pilot to meet her at the helipad in twenty. From the pad to the airport was a quick fifteen. Shed have time to spare.

But as if he could hear her clicking the silent keys, he said, No helicopter. Keep this under the radar. Until we know what were dealing with, that is.

The direct order surprised her. Too blunt. No wiggle room. Uncharacteristic. Coming from anyone lower down the food chain, the order might have been illegal, too.

Of course, Kim said again. I understand. Under the radar. No problem. She hit the delete button on the half-finished text. He hadnt said undercover.

The FBI operated in the glare of every possible spotlight. Keeping something under the radar added layers of complication. Under the radar meant no official recognition. No help, either. Off the books. She didnt have to hide, but shed need to be careful what she revealed and to whom. Agents died during operations under the radar. Careers were killed there, too. So Otto heeded her internal warning system and placed herself on security alert, level red. She didnt ask to whom shed report because she already knew. He wouldnt have called her directly if he intended her to report through normal channels. Instead, she turned her mind to solving the problem at hand.

How could she possibly make a commercial flight scheduled to depart she glanced at the bedside clock in eighty-nine minutes? There was no reliable subway or other public transportation in the Motor City. A car was the only option, through traffic and construction. Most days it took ninety minutes door to door, just to reach the airport.

She now had eighty-eight.

And she was still standing naked in her bathroom.

Only one solution. There was a filthy hot sheets motel three blocks away specializing in hourly racks for prostitutes and drug dealers. Her office handled surveillance of terrorists who stopped there after crossing the Canadian border from Windsor. Gunfire was a nightly occurrence. But a line of cabs always stood outside, engines running, because tips there were good. One of those cabs might get her to the flight on time. She shivered.