“She’s got the damn mobile switched off,” I said.
“Paul Hubble?” Baker said. “Sure. He lives here, like you say, always has. Family man. Stevenson knows him, some kind of an in-law or something. They’re friendly, I think. Go bowling together. Hubble’s a banker. Some kind of a financial guy, you know, a big-shot executive type, works up in Atlanta. Some big bank up there. I see him around, time to time.”
“Choice of what?” said the big guy. Blankly. Surprised.
“So it happened Sunday morning?” I said.
“His name was Stoller?” he said. “We’ve got him down as John Doe.”
“Like a frenzy,” he said. “The guy looks like he was run over by a truck. Just about every bone is smashed. But the doctor says it happened after the guy was already dead. You’re a weird guy, Reacher, that’s for damn sure.”