01x04 - In a Tree

[bunniefuu]

Finlay.

Any luck tracking down Spivey?

Dead end. You?

Well, found out Hubble's
been lying to his wife.

Hasn't worked at the bank
in a year.

Guess we could throw that

onto the "What the Heck
Does That Mean" file.

Anything else?

Potential lead
on your brother's rental car.

A driver called in
a burnt-out vehicle

a few hundred yards
west of mile marker 97,





off of Rural Route 9.

On my way.

Who else knows about it?

Only those who need to.

Time to stop for a snack, I see.

Worked up an appetite.

It was on the way.

- No, thanks.
- Missing out.

Yeah, on heart disease.

Farmer chasing down
one of his pigs found it.

Roscoe told Teale
the plates matched

one of Morrison's old collars
to throw him off the scent.

There are no plates.

Yup.





Someone took pains to hide it
from the road with brush,

but last night's rain
washed away the cover.

Joe would have wanted an SUV
for headroom.

Still doesn't mean
it was your brother's.

We're in Big Car Country.
Could be stolen.

Would've been reported missing
by now.

Fire didn't start in the engine
or the gas t*nk.

Burn's darkest in the center,
then spreads out.

Accelerant and a match.

It's Roscoe.

Hey.

What are we looking at?

This Joe's car or what?

Think so.
Can't be 100%.

Charred pretty bad.

Might be able to get
a partial VIN.

We can send photos to forensics.

Old army trick.

When you run out of g*n oil,
acetic acid from ketchup

and salt for abrasion
make a great metal cleaner.

And you put that in your body.

Tastes good.

All right,
I'll get Picard to run the VIN.

A Fed'll get faster results
than a detective from nowhere.

How'd it go at the Blue Cat?

South Americans got to Spivey
before I did.

- Found him stashed in their trunk.
- sh*t.

Well, you told me you had
a dead end, not a dead body.

We got to find these guys

before they k*ll
any more of our leads.

I know where you can find
the South Americans,

- but they won't talk.
- Why not? I'm a good interrogator.

Not that good.

Seven.

Seven bodies
since you set foot in my town.

They charged me
and they were armed.

- Fine. I get it.
- The real number's eight. Hubble's dead, too.

- We just haven't found him yet.
- You're either not talking

or saying the exact thing
to piss me off.

Okay, what matters is

we lost the chance
of figuring out

who sent
the South Americans here.

Where the hell are you going?

- Get rid of those bodies.
- They're evidence.

- We don't destroy evidence.
- Those bodies get found,

we'll be flooded
with state cops, county cops.

We don't know who we can trust.

We need to keep them hidden

until we find out who k*lled Joe

so we can keep
this investigation between us.

I know.

I'll keep an eye on him.

Oh, my God. His legs.

I did that after.

It's like Tetris.

That's an exit wound.

You sh*t them in the back.

You just told Finlay
they charged you.

I told Finlay
what he needed to hear.

This isn't the movies.

I had a chance to k*ll them
and I did.

What happened in Baghdad?

You've been talking to KJ.

No. He's been talking to me.

But don't change the subject.

If we're gonna see
this thing through,

I need to know what kind
of person I'm working with.

So what happened in Baghdad,
Reacher?

It wasn't Baghdad.

It was a small village
40 klicks north.

I was tracking an AWOL PFC.

Group of boys...
Ten, 11 years old...

Played soccer in
a bombed-out hangar every day.

Whenever they'd see me,
they'd wave.

I waved back.

One night it got real late.
They hadn't returned.

Between insurgents and IEDs,

I wanted to make sure
they got home safe.

I went back to the hangars

so they wouldn't
have to walk back alone.

Three men from the village
were abusing the boys.

You can fill in the blanks.

I sent the kids away,

but stayed
to give the adults a choice.

They could turn themselves in
to Iraqi police

or they'd answer to me.

I knew they'd come for me...

...so when they did,

I was ready.

How did KJ know about this?

Kliners have money.

Money buys access
and information.

So... you have a problem

with me k*lling people
who hurt children?

'Cause I want to know the kind
of person I'm working with.

No.

I guess I don't.

Good.

Now, let's get to the airport
and dump these bodies.

Oh, f*ck's sakes.

Oh, f*ck.

Done.

What?

Nothing.

Just...

when I asked Mosley what kind
of business Kliner was in,

he said trucking,
real estate, chemicals.

Know what he didn't say?

Agriculture.

I already told you, a delivery
like that's pretty normal

for these parts.

Still...

it was a hell of a lot
of animal feed.

- Is this really necessary?
- Lots of Jags in this city,

but only one
with plates we'll recognize.

We need a room.

From floors three to seven,
if you have it.

- King or two queens?
- Two queens.

Only two-queen I have left
is a suite.

Not a problem.

Oh. Okay, then.

I just need to see
some form of ID.

Put it under Officer Welty,
first name Eudora.

E-U-D-O-R-A.

Where'd you get all that cash?

From our friends in the trunk.

Apparently, people get paid
a lot to k*ll me.

If those guys were working
for counterfeiters,

you just paid for our room
with counterfeit cash.

Not my problem.

Eudora Welty?

Fan of her writing?

I'm surprised
you've heard of her.

I like short stories.
They get right to the point.

- No nonsense.
- My guess is Welty is your go-to,

but when you travel,
it's Margaret Mitchell.

Her prose is too long-winded
for you, but...

Georgia born and bred.
Got to represent.

What, do you moonlight
for the psychic phone network?

You can tell a lot about
a person by their pseudonyms.

Take from it what you will,
but I like

forgotten vice presidents
and Yankees second basemen.

Oh. If I'd known that,
I would have checked us in

under Willie Randolph.

Early a.m., we go
to Pete Jobling's address.

Talk to his wife.
See if we can suss out

why whoever k*lled Jobling
wanted my brother dead, too.

Sounds like a good plan.

- What are you doing?
- Buying time.

In the unlikely event
someone tracks us here,

this won't keep them out,
but it'll slow them down.

Give me a few extra seconds
to get my sh*t off.

What if the maid busts in?

She'd be a very strong maid.

You know we're
on the seventh floor?

No one's got the wingspan to
reach that window, not even you.

I know half a dozen
sharpshooters

that could take us out
on the 15th floor.

Don't sleep with your head where
it's expected to be, either.

- Molly Beth.
- Uh, sorry for calling so late.

I hope I didn't wake you.

No, I figured you'd call.

I, um, I tracked down

a lot of Joe's files
pertaining to this case.

I-I don't know
if it's everything, but it's...

voluminous.

I'll have it copied and collated
by the morning.

My flight lands at ATL
at 5:00 p.m.

Can't meet you there.

Too many cameras at the airport.

You're breaking at least
four laws I can think of

handing us those files...
We don't want any record

- of this happening.
- Molly Beth, take the train to Five Points station.

No real security there.

I look forward
to finally meeting you.

Not under these circumstances,
of course. It's just...

Joe told me so much about you.

- I'll see you tomorrow.
- Hey.

Hold on a minute.

You're having this woman
fly across the country

and deliver papers
she could have just shipped.

You want to meet her
just as much as she does you

to talk about Joe,

so... why wait?

Just talk.

Hi. Uh...

You two must have been close
if you let him bore you

with stories about me.

How long did you work together?

Uh, I started two years ago,

but Joe had already been there
a while at that point.

Already made a name for himself.

Top to bottom,
everyone respected him.

A real lead-by-example
kind of guy, you know?

Yeah, I do.

He'd go on
about how smart you are.

Maybe too smart for
your own good, he'd say, and...

a pain in his ass sometimes.

But he said you were a good man

and that even though you were
his little brother,

he was the one
who looked up to you.

Yeah, for me it was
the other way around.

He was the only man
I ever felt small next to.

I'm glad he found you,
Molly Beth.

My brother was a very particular
kind of person.

He didn't take to people easily,
so you must be special.

He must have cared
about you very much.

I, um...

I cared about him, too.

Very much.

Uh, I should get back to work.

Um, I will see you tomorrow.

- Good night.
- Good night.

You okay?

I'm fine.

Losing family's
a special kind of pain.

When my parents d*ed, I was
old enough to remember all of it

and young enough
to understand none of it.

You're hurting,

and you still
tried to comfort Molly Beth.

Joe's right.

You're a good man.

I'm gonna shower.

We didn't order room service
and we don't need housekeeping.

If anybody tries
to come through that door...

sh**t 'em.

Who's watching the door?

So, uh, we might get some
pushback from Jobling's wife.

Husband's m*rder*d, no leads...

She's not gonna be
liking cops too much.

Got it.

I'll talk.

Okay.

Hey, um...

So, about last night...

As far as I'm concerned,
it changes nothing.

We've got a job to do.

Okay.

Morning, ma'am.

Is this
Pete Jobling's residence?

It is. May I help you?

We're the police, ma'am.

Officers Welty and Randolph.

We'd like to talk to you
about Pete.

Something wrong?

We'd just like to speak
for a moment.

We can do it outside if that
makes you more comfortable.

Uh, no, I... I guess
it's okay to come inside.

Pete's back in the kitchen.

Some police officers

say they need to speak
with you, Pete.

Everything okay?

You're Pete Senior.

You're looking for our son.

Is Petey okay?

- Well...
- He's fine, ma'am.

Uh, there was a string
of hijackings recently

at his trucking company.

He wasn't involved,

but we want to ask him
some questions,

see if maybe he can help us
at all with our investigation.

Thank goodness.
You had me scared.

This happens sometimes,
you know.

People getting
my Petes confused.

But Junior hasn't lived with us
for a while now.

He's over in Brookhaven
with his wife, Judy.

Here's his address.

- Thank you.
- Thanks.

Why'd you lie?

They would've gotten emotional.

- We don't have the time.
- Oh.

Thought maybe after
Charlie Hubble and Molly Beth,

you needed a breather
from breaking bad news.

We don't have the time.

You wanted to see me, sir?

Captain, come in.

Don't bother. This'll be brief.

Word's going around town

you've been harassing
Mr. Kliner.

I was investigating
the Morrison murders

like you directed me to.

He says you threatened
to put a part of your anatomy

up into a part of his anatomy.

Something about your foot
and his ass.

Things, regrettably,
turned acrimonious.

- Not my best moment.
- Let me make things

crystal clear for you.

Kliner is one of Margrave's
most important citizens,

and as such,
we treat him and his family

with due respect.

That rule is as hard

as the tip of my walking stick.
You understand?

Completely.

He suggested I consider
removing you from your job.

Which is ironic, seeing how

his donations to our force
allowed us to match

your bloated
New England salary demands

- when we hired you.
- And I'm appreciative of that, sir.

Then show it.

That file
contains the rap sheets

of a dozen ex-cons
who had a beef with Morrison.

Now, I got a town
full of anxious voters

waiting for me to restore order.

Do a deep dive
into those papers.

Find who k*lled
our brother-in-arms.

And maybe we can see

if that inflated paycheck
of yours

can be pumped up
a little bit more.

We on track?

All four wheels.

And this last bit
I'm gonna spell out for you

like we're in kindergarten.

You're not to do
a single g*dd*mn thing

on this matter
without my approval first.

One step out of line,
you're off the case.

Two steps, you lose your career.

Stick or carrot.

Choice is yours.

Excuse the interruption, Chief.

Finlay,
your father's on the line.

Says it's urgent.

Do I have your permission
to take this call?

Don't f*ck with me.

- Hey, Pops.
- Hey.

Uh, I got that recipe
you asked about.

But I can't read
some of the ingredients,

so I'd prefer
to just give you a copy.

Much as I like to see you, Dad,

I can't leave right now.

But I have some friends
in the area.

Then send 'em on over
to pick it up.

2S, 3W from my place in an hour.

And what about Mama?
And my little sisters?

They're doing okay.

That's what I like to hear.

Talk soon.

All right.

Just got off the phone
with Captain Finlay.

Is everything okay? Any news?

Nothing you need to worry about.

But I do need to go and relay
some sensitive information

about the investigation.

In person.

Is someone coming
to relieve you?

We can't let any more people
into the fold.

But I'll only be gone
a few hours.

It's okay.

No one knows you're here.

I'm not supposed to do this,
but...

Do you know how to use this?

My father took me to the range.

If the need arises,
do not hesitate to use it.

Hesitation will get you k*lled.

Uh, cream, sugar?

Uh, black.
For both of us, please.

There you go.

So...

Regarding your husband...

He's dead, isn't he?

Yes.

Yes, he is.
I'm so sorry for your loss.

I'm not.

Okay. That's not the reaction

- that we were expecting, Mrs. Jobling.
- Miller.

I didn't take his name.

Ms. Miller.

Why don't you care
that your husband's dead?

It's not that I don't care.
I'm just not sorry.

I warned him over and over

that it was gonna catch up
to him.

- What was?
- You know

any other truck drivers
with a place like this?

Who can pay off
their parents' mortgage?

You ever say anything?

When I want to.

So, you suspected

that your husband was engaged

- in illegal activity?
- Yeah.

He was stealing
from his company. From Kliner.

He was hauling air conditioners
for them down to Miami.

Now, he never admitted this,

but with the money
he was pulling in,

something tells me not
all those AC units were getting

where they were supposed to go.

Knew he'd piss off
the wrong person eventually.

That wrong person
sh*t your husband from behind,

left him to die in a field.

- Now you speak to say something like that?
- Yes.

Someone I care about
was k*lled, too.

So if you have anything
to share,

share it now.

I can show you the boxes.

From his work.

I assume he took the units,

reboxed 'em,
sold 'em on the black market.

It was always boxes

coming in and out of here.

It's amazing
what you'll tolerate

when a guy can throw a good hump
into you.

The night Pete was k*lled,
you had no idea who he was going

- to meet?
- No. He was always getting calls at all hours,

running out,
not coming home for days.

At first I'd ask,

and that just led
to more fighting.

That why you didn't
report him missing?

That and I just
stopped giving a sh*t.

Woman can only
take so much, right?

You can bury his ass in
potter's field for all I care.

I'm flying out of here

first thing tomorrow.
I'm gonna stay with my folks

till I can sell this place.

I'm done with Georgia,

and I'm done with that assh*le.

Finlay.

2S, 3W. Got it.

On our way.

We need to go.

You need to change
out of that uniform.

Jobling
would have to move

more ACs than General Electric
to afford those two houses.

Only thing he cared about moving
was fake cash for Kliner.

Molly Beth said your brother
shut down counterfeiting

- on U.S. soil.
- Bills are produced

in South America
by whoever employed

the guys we left
in long-term parking.

Money's shipped to Florida.

Jobling drives down
with real air conditioners

to keep up appearances. Fills
the empty boxes with phony cash.

Takes 'em back up to Margrave
for distribution,

but not before he skimmed some
off the top for himself.

You sound confident.

It's a working theory.

Hoping Joe's files confirm it.

Sure we're in the right spot?

2s, 3w. Two blocks south,
three west of Picard's office.

We're in the right spot.

Here he comes.

Count to four, then follow.

- Everyone holding up okay?
- Yeah, we're fine.

What about Charlie and the kids?
Who's watching them?

Nobody. But she can handle
herself for a couple hours.

What'd you get on the VIN?

Registered to a Chevy Equinox
owned by a car rental company.

Someone picked it up last week,

then the plates get pinged
at a motel

40 miles outside Margrave.

Only problem,

both car and motel
were under the name Ron Hassey.

That's Joe.

He used the names
of Yankees backup catchers.

Good thing
I didn't write this off, then.

You know, chances are he never
checked out of that motel.

He might have left
something important behind.

It's possible.

He kept meticulous records,
lots of notes.

Motel address.
1517 Oglethorpe Road.

Memorize it, toss it.

Do me a favor, guys.

Hurry up
and close this thing out.

I'm stuck in the sticks
and I'm gonna lose my job.

Appreciate your help.

Yeah,
Ron Hassey stayed here.

- How come you're asking?
- We need to see

if he left behind
some personal items.

He did.

Briefcase and a garment bag.

They were picked up
about 20 minutes ago.

By who?

Ron Hassey.

What did he look like?

About medium height. Foreign.

Maybe Hispanic or something?

They got a 20-minute head start
and could've gone

in any direction. That briefcase

- is good as gone.
- His briefcase doesn't matter.

- You said he takes field notes.
- He does.

And he knew
someone might come after 'em,

so he'd put 'em
where they wouldn't look.

If you were walking out of there

with Joe's stuff,
looking for his paperwork,

- what would you do?
- Get lost before his giant brother

- found me.
- Right.

You'd move fast.

Keep the briefcase,
dump the garment bag.

f*ck.

Okay, Joe.

Let's see if you're as smart
as I think you are.

No way.

- Looks like a punch list.
- - Oh!

Cover!

- The tire's blown.
- Soon as I fire, we run in opposite directions.

Harder to hit us if we split up.

On three. One, two, three.

Son of a bitch.

Mateo!

You just k*lled my cousin.

Now I'm gonna paint your skull

all over the ground...

Thanks.

You made them follow you

'cause you had Joe's note!

Yeah, so you'd stay alive.

I don't need
you looking out for me.

I'm a f*cking cop, not some girl

who needs your protection.

- Clearly.
- We agreed

last night changed nothing.

What the hell were you thinking?

I was thinking when Joe d*ed,

there was almost no one left
in the world I cared about.

And that felt bad.

And then I met you...

and I felt better.

Come on, we got
to change a tire.

Finlay.

- You find anything?
- Yeah.

And then a couple
of guys found us.

More bodies?

You know
what I want to know?

How the hell those guys got
to the motel before we did.

Stevenson took
the call from Picard

and forwarded it
to the main line.

He could have listened in.

I mean, anyone
at the station could have.

Or... I don't know.

Maybe Stevenson's innocent act
is just that: an act.

Picard's called me
at the station

a few times over the past year.

Stevenson could have
known his voice,

deciphered the meeting location
and Kliner could have

had guys ready and waiting
by the time you arrived.

When I found

Spivey in the trunk of that car,

there was surveillance gear.

It's not a stretch to think
they listened on parabolic mics.

I can't believe
Stevenson's dirty.

But...

I guess he was asking
a lot of questions.

Pretending to be concerned
about the Hubbles.

God, that sneaky piece of sh*t.

I guess he found out
Joe's fake name

and the motel,
and they b*at us there.

Yeah, well, we're the ones
that walked away.

All right, we need to go through
what you found.

- But not over the phone.
- I-I know a place.

An abandoned farmhouse.

Far enough outside Margrave,
totally secluded.

I'll text you the location.

All right, see you soon.

It was good we were careful
around Stevenson.

You still mad at me?

I know you don't
need protection,

but I went with my instinct.

Just like I was taught.

This wasn't some
butterball, snot-nosed step-kid.

Your boy pummeled
a brigadier general's son.

That Bishop boy
has been a problem

ever since we set foot
in Okinawa.

My boys were only standing up
for Billy Docette.

Well, the Docettes don't want
to get involved.

His dad's thinking
about his career.

As should you, Stan.

It's a disagreement
between kids.

Correct.

And your kid smashed
another kid's face in.

So what are
we talking about here?

Joe's a minor... there's
not much they can do to him.

But Bishop's gonna
take it out on Stan

- any way he can.
- What have you heard?

He's gonna find some

reason to bust you down a rank.

Cut your pay.

Transfer you out
of Okinawa to some

sh*t assignment in Germany.

- Jesus.
- But Stanley didn't do anything wrong.

There must be
some way to fix this.

I would if I could, Josephine,
truly.

But Bishop's a vindictive S.O.B.

Always has been.

He's gonna torpedo
my whole career.

Sorry to be
the bearer of bad news, but

just wanted to give you
the heads-up.

Appreciate it, Butch.

You're a good man.

Boys, come here.

Is what he said true?

Yes.

It's not fair
that you get in trouble.

That's right.

Should have thought of that
before you did what you did.

He hates me.

- I'm gonna take care of this.
- No.

You're not.

You're 12, Reacher. I'm not
letting you get involved.

- But, Joe, I can...
- Your instinct was to keep your mouth shut.

It was the right one.

Now stay out of it.

E Unum Pluribus.

Out of one, many.

Should be "out of many, one."

E Pluribus Unum.
It's backwards.

Do you think
that's just a mistake?

Joe never did anything
by mistake.

Well, P.H. is obviously
Paul Hubble.

W.B.?
Anyone know that area code?

Hmm, beats me.

The next one's S.C.

- That's New York.
- I led a joint

investigation
with the Air National Guard

out of Memphis once.

Think J.W's 901's
the area code there.

But these two I don't get.

Joblings' Garage
and Gray's Kliner file.

Already been
to Jobling's garage.

Empty boxes

that didn't tell us anything
we didn't already know.

And Gray didn't have
a Kliner file.

When he d*ed,
I went through his office

and his house,
cleaned out everything.

There's nothing
on Kliner anywhere.

Let's run a search on these
numbers, see who they belong to.

Or we could call them.

Or we can do that.

I'll take the mystery number.

I'll try New York.

Memphis.

United States
Environmental Protection Agency.

How may I direct your call?

- Hello?
- Okay.

So "W.B." is William Bryant,

Economics
Professor at Princeton.

According to his voicemail,
at a conference in Europe,

due to return in three days,
not checking messages.

Strange, my number went

to the economics department
at Columbia.

S.C. is
Professor Stephanie Castillo.

Also at the European conference,
also back in three days.

- Let me guess, you called Memphis State?
- No.

Memphis office of the EPA.

What the hell does

any of this have
to do with counterfeiting?

What does Hubble's number being

in my brother's shoe
have to do with it?

Or South America?

- Or animal feed?
- Okay.

You got to give
the last one a rest.

It was a hell of a lot
of animal feed.

Bottom line, we need

to jump on the Memphis EPA
lead ASAP.

If Joe was looking
into crooked agents

at the federal level,
they can do

a lot more damage
than college professors.

You can't go to Tennessee.

Molly Beth lands
in less than an hour.

And there might be shorthand
in your brother's

files only you understand.

Right, and you two need to keep
up appearances with Teale.

I know a PI who can help.

Someone we can trust?

Trusted her with my life
on countless occasions.

She hasn't let me down once.

- Reacher.
- Hello, Neagley.

- How'd you know it was me?
- Only person

with my private number
other than my dad.

And this time of day, he enjoys
the jurisprudential musings

of one Judge Judy.

It's been a minute and a half.

What's up?

Gonna run it down
fast and clean. Ready?

Hit me.

My brother was working
for Secret Service.

He was looking
into counterfeiting in Georgia.

Last week, he got
too close to the truth,

someone k*lled him for it.

sh*t.

You okay?

My brother was k*lled, not me.

My mistake.
Forgot who I was talking to.

Joe's notes had the number
to the Memphis EPA office,

next to the initials J.W...
That's all I have.

- Number and initials.
- All I need.

I'm on it.

And, hey, boss.

If you want to talk...

We just did.

You're an emotional
dumpster fire.

You know that? Stop dissembling.

Goodbye, Neagley.

She always talk
to you like that?

No.
Sometimes she speaks her mind.

We should get going.

Molly Beth will be landing soon.

We should leave the Jag here.
b*llet holes are a bit

- of a neon sign.
- I'll drive.

Hope you like .38 Special.

Oh, you're serious.

It says Molly Beth's plane
lands in 15 minutes.

She's just dropping off papers,

so she doesn't have
any checked bags.

Ten minutes to disembark,

five to use the ladies room,

ten to walk
to the airport subway,

two to get a ticker
at the kiosk.

Train departs
every five minutes.

How long's the ride
from ATL to Five Points?

15, 20 minutes?

Okay, so we should get there

between one and six minutes
before she does,

depending on traffic.

We don't know
what she looks like.

How is she gonna find us?

She knows what Joe looks like.

And I look like Joe.

Know you're a blues guy,
Reacher, but come on,

you got to feel this.

No.

She'll either be on the gold
or red northbound train.

They arrive
on different platforms.

Looks like we found her.

She wants to meet us
at the top of the escalator.

Where is she?

Well, she must have missed us
and walked right by.

No one misses me
when they walk by.

Something's wrong.

We need to split up.
You take the stairs,

you take the elevator.

To the side, to the side.

Oh, f*ck.

Okay... okay. Hey.

Hey. Oh, God.

Joe...