Worth Dying For

EIGHT

FOOTSTEPS ON GRAVEL. ONE PAIR. A LIGHT, HESITANT TREAD, approaching. Reacher watched the window and saw a shape flit across it. Small, slight, head ducked down into the collar of a coat.

A woman.

There was a knock at the door, soft and tentative and padded. A small nervous hand, wearing a glove. A decoy, possibly. Not beyond the wit of man to send someone on ahead, all innocent and unthreatening, to get the door open and lull the target into a sense of false security. Not unlikely that such a person would be nervous and hesitant about her role.

Reacher crossed the floor silently and headed back to the bathroom. He eased the window up and clipped out the screen and rested it in the bathtub. Then he ducked his head and climbed out, scissoring his legs over the sill, stepping down to the gravel. He walked one of the silver timbers that boxed the path, like a tightrope, silently. He went counterclockwise around the circular cabin and came up on the woman from behind.

She was alone.

No cars on the road, nobody in the lot, nobody flattened either side of his door, nobody crouched under his window. Just the woman, standing there on her own. She looked cold. She was wearing a wool coat and a scarf. No hat. She was maybe forty, small, dark, and worried. She raised her hand and knocked again.

Reacher said, ‘I’m here.’

She gasped and spun around and put her hand on her chest. Her mouth stayed open and made a tiny O. He said, ‘I’m sorry if I startled you, but I wasn’t expecting visitors.’

She said, ‘Perhaps you should have been.’

‘Well, in fact, perhaps I was. But not you.’

‘Can we go inside?’

‘Who are you?’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m the doctor’s wife.’

‘I’m pleased to meet you,’ Reacher said.

‘Can we go inside?’

Reacher found the key in his pocket and unlocked the door from the outside. The doctor’s wife stepped in and he followed her and locked the door again behind them. He crossed the room and closed the bathroom door against the night air coming in through the open window. He turned back to find her standing in the middle of the space. He indicated the armchair and said, ‘Please.’

She sat down. Didn’t unbutton her coat. She was still nervous. If she had been carrying a purse, she would have had it clamped hard on her knees, defensively. She said, ‘I walked all the way over here.’

‘To pick up the car? You should have let your husband do that, in the morning. That’s what I arranged with him.’

‘He’s too drunk to drive.’

‘He’ll be OK by morning, surely.’

‘Morning’s too late. You have to get going. Right now. You’re not safe here.’

‘You think?’

‘My husband said you’re heading south to the Interstate. I’ll drive you there.’

‘Now? It’s got to be a hundred miles.’

‘A hundred and twenty.’

‘It’s the middle of the night.’

‘You’re not safe here. My husband told me what happened. You interfered with the Duncans. You saw. They’ll punish him for sure, and we think they’ll come after you too.’

‘They?’

‘The Duncans. There are four of them.’

‘Punish him how?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Last time they wouldn’t let him come here for a month.’

‘Here? To the lounge?’

‘It’s his favourite place.’

‘How could they stop him coming here?’

‘They told Mr Vincent not to serve him. The owner.’

‘Why would the owner of this place do what the Duncans tell him?’

‘The Duncans run a trucking business. All of Mr Vincent’s supplies come through them. He signed a contract. He kind of had to. That’s how the Duncans work. So if Mr Vincent doesn’t play ball, a couple of deliveries will be late, a couple lost, a couple damaged. He knows that. He’ll go out of business.’

Reacher asked, ‘What will they figure to do to me?’

The woman said, ‘They hire football players right out of college. Cornhuskers. The ones who were good enough to get scholarships, but not good enough to go to the NFL. Guards and tackles. Big guys.’

Brett, Reacher thought.

The woman said, ‘They’ll connect the dots and figure out where you are. I mean, where else could you be? They’ll pay you a visit. Maybe they’re already on their way.’

‘From where?’

‘The Duncan depot is twenty miles from here. Most of their people live close to it.’

‘How many football players have they got?’

‘Ten.’

Reacher said nothing.

The woman said, ‘My husband heard you say you’re headed for Virginia.’

‘That’s the plan.’

‘Is that where you live?’

‘As much as anywhere else.’

‘We should get going. You’re in big trouble.’

‘Not unless they send all nine at once,’ Reacher said.

‘All nine what?’

‘Football players.’

‘I said there were ten.’

‘I already met one of them. He’s currently indisposed. They’re one short, as of tonight.’

‘What?’

‘He got between me and Seth Duncan.’

‘What did you do to Seth Duncan?’

‘I broke his nose.’

‘Oh, sweet Jesus. Why?’

‘Why not?’

‘Oh sweet, sweet Jesus. Where are the car keys?’

‘What will happen to Mrs Duncan?’

‘We need to get going. Right this minute.’

‘First answer the question.’

‘Mrs Duncan will be punished too. For calling my husband. She’s been told not to do that. Just like he’s been told not to go treat her.’

‘He’s a doctor. He doesn’t get a choice. They take an oath, don’t they?’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Jack Reacher.’

‘We have to go, Mr Reacher. Right now.’

‘What will they do to Mrs Duncan?’

‘This isn’t your business,’ the woman said. Which, strictly speaking, was fairly close to Reacher’s own opinion at that point. His business was to get himself to Virginia, and he was being offered a ride through the hardest part of the journey, fast and free. I-80 awaited, two hours away. An on-ramp, the last of the night drivers, the first stirrings of morning traffic. Maybe breakfast. Maybe there was a rest area or a truck stop with a greasy spoon café. Bacon, eggs, coffee.

‘What will they do to her?’ he asked again.

The woman said, ‘Probably nothing much.’

‘What kind of nothing much?’

‘Well, they might put her on a coagulant. One of the uncles seems to have medical supplies. Or maybe they’ll just stop her taking so much aspirin. So she doesn’t bleed so bad next time. And they’ll probably ground her for a month. That’s all. Nothing too serious. Nothing for you to worry about. They’ve been married ten years, after all. She’s not a prisoner. She could leave if she wanted to.’

‘Except this time she inadvertently got her husband’s nose broken. He might take that out on her, if he can’t take it out on me.’

The doctor’s wife said nothing. But it sounded like she was agreeing. The strange round room went quiet. Then Reacher heard tyres on gravel.