Better off Dead

Chapter 22

Losing contact with Dendoncker’s guys was a setback. A major one. That was a fact. There was no denying it. There was no disguising it. And there was no point dwelling on it. What had happened, happened. I could rake over the coals later, if I felt there was anything to gain from it. But just then, all that mattered was picking up the scent. I had no idea where they had gone. They had a whole town to hide in. A town they knew a lot better than I did. Or they could have gone farther afield. Fenton said Dendoncker was paranoid. I had no idea what kind of precautions he might take. I needed to narrow my options. Which meant I needed intel. If any was available.

I drove fast all the way to the arch that led to the courtyard at Fenton’s hotel. The spot directly outside her room – the old wheelwright’s shop – was free. I dumped the Chevy and jumped out. The next problem was getting the door open. There was no physical key. No lock to pick. Just some weird code that showed up on a phone. Her phone. Even if I had it I wouldn’t know what to do. So I went old school. I turned my back to the door. Scanned all four directions. Saw no one on foot. No one in any vehicles. No one at any windows. I hoped what Fenton had said about knocking out the security cameras was right. Then I lifted my right knee and smashed the sole of my foot into the door.

The door flew open. It banged against the internal wall and bounced back. I turned and nipped through the gap before it closed. Inside, I saw Fenton’s bed was made. The cushions had been straightened on the couch. And her suitcase was again sitting on the floor next to the door.

I crossed to the window and closed the curtains. I took the chair from the desk and used it to wedge the door. It wouldn’t withstand a serious attempt to get in but should at least stop the door swinging open in the breeze. I carried her case to the bed. Then I picked up the room phone and dialed a number from memory.

My call was answered after two rings. The guy at the other end was on a cell. His voice was echoey and disembodied but I could make out his words well enough.

“Wallwork,” he said. “Who’s this?”

Jefferson Wallwork was a special agent with the FBI. Our paths had crossed a little while ago. I helped him with a case. Things had worked out, from his point of view. He said he owed me. He said I should call if I was ever in a bind. I figured this counted.

I said, “This is Reacher.”

The line went silent for a moment.

“Is this a social call, Major? Only I’m kind of busy.”

“It’s not Major anymore. Just Reacher. I’ve told you before. And no. This is not social. I need some information.”

“There’s this thing now. It’s called the Internet.”

“I need specialized information. A woman’s life is on the line.”

“Call 911.”

“She’s a veteran. She also worked for you guys. She got her foot blown off for her trouble.”

I heard Wallwork sigh.

“What do you need to know?”

“She worked at a place called TEDAC. The Terrorist Explosive Device Analytical Center. Do you know it?”

“I know of it.”

“She got wind of a plot to distribute bombs, here in the United States. There’s the potential for a lot of people to get killed. The guy behind it is named Dendoncker. Waad Ahmed Dendoncker.”

“What kind of bombs?”

“I don’t know. Ones that explode.”

“How many?”

“Don’t know. Too many.”

“Shit. OK. I’ll get the right people on it.”

“That’s not all. The woman’s missing. I believe Dendoncker’s holding her. I believe he’s planning to kill her. So I need all the addresses associated with him, and his business. It’s called Pie in the Sky, Inc. You’ll need to dig deep. He owns it through a whole bunch of shell companies. One’s probably called Moon Shadow Associates.”

“This woman. What’s her name?”

“Michaela Fenton.”

“Last known whereabouts?”

“Los Gemelos, Arizona. It’s a small town, right on the border.”

“She’s out there undercover? From TEDAC? That’s not SOP. The nearest field office should be handling it. What’s going on? Where’s her partner?”

“She doesn’t have a partner. She left the Bureau. This is more of a personal initiative.”

Wallwork was silent for a moment. “I don’t like the sound of that. The last former agent I know who went down the personal initiative route is now in federal prison. His ex-partner tried to help. It got her killed.”

I said nothing.

“All right. I’ll try. But no promises. TEDAC’s not the kind of place you mess around with. It’s locked down tighter than a bullfrog’s ass. They deal with some seriously sensitive shit. Ask the wrong person the wrong thing, it’s not just the end of your career. You don’t just get fired. You can wind up in jail.”

“I get that. Don’t do anything to jam yourself up. Here’s another angle you could try. I suspect Dendoncker is using his business as a front for smuggling. I don’t know what, or who for.”

“OK. That might help. I have a buddy in the DEA. Another at ATF. I’ll tap them up. When do you need this by?”

“Yesterday.”

“Can I get you on this number?”

“You should be able to. For a while, at least.”

I hung up the phone, made sure the ringer was on, and turned to the bed. I unzipped Fenton’s case and flipped it open. Everything was neatly folded and rolled, just like before. A hint of her perfume floated up. I felt even more intrusive than I had two nights ago. I pulled her stuff out. There was the same combination of clothes and toiletries and props for changing her appearance. I found nothing new. No notes. No files. No “if you’re reading this…” letters.

The guns I’d taken from the guys at The Tree were missing. And she’d taken a couple of other things. The extra ammunition for her Glock. And her field dressing kit. That made sense given what she’d been planning. Everything else in her case was familiar. Including a stack of cards from the Red Roan. Like the one she said she found in the dud bomb, along with her brother’s fingerprint. And a condom. Something about that had sounded off-key when she told me. It still didn’t ring true. I couldn’t place why. It was like a discordant hum at the back of my mind. Faint, but there.

I started to replace Fenton’s belongings and I uncovered her spare foot wrapped in a shirt. A thought hit me when I saw it. I felt a sudden surge of optimism. I rushed out to the car and grabbed the limb Dendoncker’s guy had dropped on the table at the Prairie Rose. I brought it inside the room. Compared it with the one from the suitcase. Both had sockets made of carbon fiber. I ran my fingers around inside them, tracing the shape. The contours felt identical. Both had titanium shafts. They were the same length. The only thing that was different was the shoe. One was a boot. The other a sneaker. Not enough to prove that Dendoncker’s claim to be holding her was a bluff.

I shook off the disappointment and finished repacking Fenton’s case. I did it as neatly as I could. Replaced it by the door, ready to take to the car. Then I searched the rest of the room again. I checked every hiding place I had ever come across. Every trick I had ever heard of anyone using to conceal stuff. And I found nothing. I was left alone with Fenton’s foot lying in the center of the bed and a digital clock on the nightstand. Its cursor was flashing despondently. It was counting the seconds. Seconds that Fenton may not have to spare.

I got brought back to the present by a sound. The phone, chirping away on the desk. It was Wallwork.

He said, “Mixed progress. The smuggling? I got nowhere. My DEA guy quit last week. And my ATF buddy is out sick. Long term. He got shot. But I do have better news about TEDAC. An old supervisor of mine transferred there. He trusts me. He’ll help if he can. I reached out. He hasn’t gotten back to me yet. But he will.”

“Addresses?”

“I turned up a bunch. All with connections to this Dendoncker guy’s business. Most seemed like shells. I think you were right about that. I did find one that seemed legitimate. It’s in the town you mentioned.” He recited a unit number and a street name.

“Where is that in relation to the town center?”

I heard Wallwork’s computer keys rattle. “A mile west. It’s a straight shot. Only one road goes out that way. It looks like Dendoncker’s is the only building on that road.”

“OK. Anything else?”

“Not within five hundred miles. And nothing that isn’t a lawyer’s office or a PO Box.”

“How about Dendoncker personally?”

“That’s where things get stranger. There’s no record of him owning any property anywhere in the state. I checked with the IRS. He does pay taxes. His returns are handled by his accountant. I found the address on his file.”

“Tell me.”

“It won’t do you any good. I looked on Google Earth. It’s a vacant lot. I’m trying to trace the owner, but so far it’s just another bunch of shell corporations.”

“Is Dendoncker married? Is there anything in a wife’s name?”

“There’s no record of a marriage. Nothing about this smells right, Reacher. My advice is to walk away. I know you won’t, so at least be careful.”

“There’s one more place you could check.” I gave him the address of the house I followed the Lincoln to.

Wallwork paused while he jotted the details down. “OK. Will do. I’ll get back to you the moment I learn more.”