Nothing to Lose

The clerk said, “Mrs. Rogers.”

Back in the car Vaughan said, “Another one. But a weird one. Her husband wasn’t arrested until yesterday, but she’s been here five whole days? What does that mean?”

Reacher said, “It means our hypothesis is correct. My guess is they were on the road together up until five days ago, he found the right people in Despair and went into hiding, she came directly here to wait it out, then he got flushed out by the mass mobilization yesterday and bumped into the wrong people and got picked up. The whole town was turned upside down. Every rock was turned over. He was noticed.”

“So where is he now?”

“He wasn’t in a cell. So maybe he got back with the right people again.”

Vaughan said, “I knew I had heard the name. His wife came in with the supermarket delivery guy. He drives in from Topeka, Kansas, every few days. He gave her a ride. He mentioned it to me. He told me her name.”

“Truck drivers check in with you?”

“Small towns. No secrets. Maria came in the same way. That’s how I knew about her.”

“How did Lucy Anderson come in?”

Vaughan paused a beat.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I never heard of her before the Despair PD dumped her at the line. She wasn’t here before.”

“So she came in from the west.”

“I guess some of them do. Some from the east, some from the west.”

“Which raises a question, doesn’t it? Maria came in from the east, from Kansas, but she asked the old guy in the green car to let her out at the MP base west of Despair. How did she even know it was there?”

“Maybe Lucy Anderson told her. She would have seen it.”

“I don’t think they talked at all.”

“Then maybe Ramirez told her about it. Maybe on the phone to Topeka. He came in from the west and saw it.”

“But why would he notice it? Why would he care? Why would it be a topic of conversation with his girlfriend?”

“I don’t know.”

Reacher asked, “Is your watch commander a nice guy?”

“Why?”

“Because he better be. We need to borrow his car again.”

“When?”

“Later tonight.”

“Later than what?”

“Than whatever.”

“How much later?”

“Eight hours from now.”

Vaughan said, “Eight hours is good.”

Reacher said, “First we’re going shopping.”

They got to the hardware store just as it was closing. The old guy in the brown coat was clearing his sidewalk display. He had wheeled the leaf blowers inside and was starting in on the wheelbarrows. Reacher went in and bought a slim flashlight and two batteries and a two-foot wrecking bar from the old guy’s wife. Then he went back out and bought the trick stepladder that opened to eight different positions. For storage or transport it folded into a neat package about four feet long and a foot and a half wide. It was made of aluminum and plastic and was very light. It fit easily on the Crown Vic’s rear bench.

Vaughan invited him over for dinner, at eight o’clock. She was very formal about it. She said she needed the intervening two hours to prepare. Reacher spent the time in his room. He took a nap, and then he shaved and showered and cleaned his teeth. And dressed. His clothes were new, but his underwear was past its prime, so he ditched it. He put on his pants and his shirt and raked his fingers through his hair and checked the result in the mirror and deemed it acceptable. He had no real opinion about his appearance. It was what it was. He couldn’t change it. Some people liked it, and some people didn’t.

Fifty yards from Vaughan’s house, he couldn’t see the watch commander’s car. Either it was in the driveway, or Vaughan had given it back. Or gotten an emergency call. Or changed her plans for the evening. Then from thirty yards away, he saw the car right there on the curb. A hole in the darkness. Dull glass. Black paint, matte with age. Invisible in the gloom.

Perfect.

He walked through the plantings on her stepping-stone path and touched the bell.The average delay at a suburban door in the middle of the evening, about twenty seconds. Vaughan got there in nine flat. She was in a black knee-length sleeveless A-line dress, and black low-heel shoes, like ballet slippers. She was freshly showered. She looked young and full of energy.

She looked stunning.

He said, “Hello.”

She said, “Come in.”

The kitchen was full of candlelight. The table was set with two chairs and two places and an open bottle of wine and two glasses. Aromas were coming from the stove. Two appetizers were standing on the counter. Lobster meat, avocado, pink grapefruit segments, on a bed of lettuce.

She said, “The main course isn’t ready. I screwed up the timing. It’s something I haven’t made for a while.”

“Three years,” Reacher said.

“Longer,” she said.

“You look great,” he said.

“Do I?”

“The prettiest view in Colorado.”

“Better than Pikes Peak?”

“Considerably. You should be on the front of the guide book.”

“You’re flattering me.”

“Not really.”

She said, “You look good, too.”

“That’s flattery for sure.”

“No, you clean up well.”

“I try my best.”

She asked, “Should we be doing this?”

He said, “I think so.”