“Absolutely not.” Reacher opened the door and climbed in. “I do like coffee. And it makes for a much better greeting than last time you picked me up. That’s for sure.”
* * *
—
Jed Starmer woke up a couple of hours later than Reacher. He was on a Greyhound bus. But not the one that had brought him from L.A. A different one. Heading east, approaching the border between Texas and Louisiana.
If Jed had been left to himself he might not have made it onto that bus. He had no recollection of getting up off the floor at the depot in Dallas. He just remembered finding himself on a plastic chair, propped up against a table. The guy from the back of the previous bus was sitting opposite him. Between them there were two trays, loaded with food. Belly Buster Deluxes, with extra onion rings and giant cups of Coke. Exactly what they had ordered. Exactly what he was trying to pay for when he realized his money was missing. He thought he must have been mistaken. He thought he must still have it. Relief flooded through him. He slid his hand into his pocket. He needed to touch the cash. To be sure it was there. But his pocket was just as empty as before. He was so confused.
The other guy said, “If you’re wondering about the food, I paid for it.”
“Oh.” Jed was struggling to keep his thoughts straight. “Thank you. I guess.”
The guy was staring at Jed. His expression wasn’t friendly. “Tell me something. And don’t lie. Are you scamming me?”
“What? No. Wait. I don’t understand.”
“You say you’ll pay. You order the food. Then you stick me with the check.”
“Not deliberately.”
“The whole collapsing thing? You should get an Oscar for that.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You really thought you had the money?”
“I do have the money. I did have. Now it’s gone.”
“How much did you have?”
“Three hundred dollars.”
“In what? Tens? Twenties? Fifties?”
“Twenties.”
The guy shook his head. “So quite a roll. When did you last have it?”
Jed thought for a moment. “In El Paso. I got some water. No. Wait. That was from a machine. I used coins. It must have been in L.A. On Tuesday. I bought my ticket and a burger.”
“Did you pull out the whole roll? Or just what you needed?”
Jed shrugged. “The whole roll, I guess.”
“You put what you didn’t spend in your pocket?”
“Right.”
“Did anyone see which pocket you put it in?”
“I don’t know. Probably. The bus station was pretty busy.”
“Did anyone come close to you? Bump into you? Come into contact in any other way?”
“No. Wait. Yes. The guy who found my ticket. I dropped it and…oh.”
“Oh is right. So. This guy. Did you talk to him? Did he ask you any questions?”
“We chatted a little, I guess. He said he was getting on my bus. But then he didn’t. Now I know why.”
“Did you tell him where you were going?”
“Not exactly. I was pretty vague. Why?”
“Doesn’t matter. Now, come on. Eat. Before this mess goes cold.”
* * *
—
The other guy cleared his plate then waited for Jed to catch up.
He said, “Good. Now we should get you to the hospital. Get you checked out. You whacked your head pretty good when you fell.”
“No.” Jed checked his watch. “No time. My next bus goes in ten minutes. And anyway, I’m fine.”
“You should call 911, at least. Report the guy in L.A.”
Jed shook his head.
“You need to report him. To stop him from ripping anyone else off.”
“There’s no point. It’s too late. He’ll be long gone.”
“You’re scared to call the police, aren’t you? You’re trying to avoid them. How come?”
“I’m not scared. I’m just short of time.”
“You’re in some kind of trouble.”
“I told you. I’m not.”
“Then what’s the problem? Are you a runaway? Is that it?”
Jed shook his head again. “No. I’m not running away from anything. I’m just…relocating.”
“Really? Where to? How? Where’s your stuff? What are you going to do when you get there?”
“I don’t know.” Those were good questions, Jed thought. Although only two things really mattered. Where he was going to sleep that night after he got off the bus. And how he was going to finish his journey the next morning. The same two problems he’d faced all along. They were a little more difficult now that he had no money. But he would figure something out. There were people sleeping on the seats near him. He wasn’t thrilled at the idea, but he could do the same at the depot in Jackson. It wouldn’t kill him for one night. Then he remembered the sign he had seen outside. For the prison shuttle. If they had those in Texas, surely there would be something similar in Mississippi. That could be his salvation. If he could somehow persuade the driver to let him get on board. He looked up and tried to smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be OK.”