Hannah sighed. “Some asshole kids tried to break in.”
“When?”
“Earlier this afternoon. At the rest area, on I-20.”
“Kids did this?”
“That’s right.”
“Did they steal anything?”
“They saw us walking back after we used the bathrooms and they ran.”
“Did you file a police report?”
“I didn’t think there was any point. We didn’t get a good look at the kids. I wouldn’t have been able to give much of a description.”
“And your tailgate?”
“What about it?”
“It has a bullet hole. Someone take a shot at you?”
Hannah shook her head. “At us? No. Sam, my ex, he was a keen marksman. He was at a range outside of town one day last week and a newbie had an accidental discharge in the parking lot when he was getting his gun out of his vehicle safe.”
“Did Sam file a report?”
“He figured there was no need. It was an accident. No one got hurt. The guy paid for the damage. If that was wrong, you can’t blame Sam. It’s up to the club to make sure the rules are followed.”
“What’s the name of the club?”
“I don’t know. I never went. Sam just called it The Gun Club. He was a corrections officer. A lot of his co-workers are members, too. It’s owned by a retired cop. I’m sure he did the right thing.”
The cop thought for a moment. Then he said, “All right. You can go. But you need to turn the truck around.”
“Thank you. But why?”
“You need somewhere to stay. The best hotel around here is the Winson Garden. It’s easy to find. Follow signs for the prison, then take a left onto Mole Street. I’ll follow. Make sure you don’t get lost.”
* * *
—
No one was going to come and help him. He had to face reality. So Jed Starmer forced himself onto his feet. He couldn’t stay where he was. He was too visible. At least two officers had been searching for him in Jackson. Pretty soon they would accept he had given them the slip. They would have no choice. Then they would have only one place left to look. Jed’s final destination. Winson. Which could only be reached via the road he was currently loitering right next to.
Jed still had no idea how he was going to get to the summit. He could barely stand. He felt like someone had stolen his leg bones and replaced them with modeling clay. His stomach was hurting. He couldn’t look at any object without the thing’s edges blurring and its colors twisting and dancing like it was on fire. He was a hot mess. He knew that. And he knew one other thing. He had come too far to be defeated by a hill.
Jed figured he had a couple of factors on his side. Time. And trees. There were more than twelve hours before he had to be in Winson. All he needed was rest. And someplace where he couldn’t be seen from the road. He hobbled across to the bike, which was still lying on its side. Heaved it up onto its wheels. Pushed it over to the long grass at the edge of the shoulder. Set it down. Took another couple of steps. And stopped.
Jed needed rest. But he also needed to be safe. He was heading into a forest. There could be wolves lurking around. Maybe alligators. Maybe coyotes. Maybe in giant bloodthirsty packs. Jed didn’t know what kinds of predators they had in Mississippi. And he didn’t want to find out the hard way. So he was going to have to pick his refuge with extra care.
Chapter 33
Hannah was the one with a credit card so she took care of the check-in process at the Winson Garden. Reacher was the one with the suspicious nature so he kept watch over the parking lot. The cop was the one with the orders to observe the stranger so he parked where he had a good view of the hotel’s entrance. Where he could make sure the stranger and his unexpected companion did go in. And didn’t come back out.
When she was done with the form filling and the bill paying, Hannah wheeled her suitcase across the reception area and handed a card key in a little cardboard wallet to Reacher. He took it and slipped it into his back pocket. Almost immediately a phone rang on the counter behind them.
The desk clerk answered it after one ring. “Winson Garden, Winson’s premier guest accommodations. How may I be of assistance today?” He listened for a moment then said in a much quieter voice, almost a whisper, “Yes, Officer. The woman did. The name on her card is Hannah Hampton. Her home address is in Gerrardsville, Colorado. She paid for two people. Two rooms. One night.” Then he nodded to no one in particular and dropped the receiver back into its cradle.