“The release is the top priority, for sure. But we don’t want to throw the baby out with the bathwater. The ceremony is very important. You can’t buy that kind of good press. And you’re forgetting the insurance. That will take care of Reacher. He’ll be miles away at 10:00 a.m. And if he comes back, it’ll be too late for him to do anything.”
“Will it work?”
Hix reached out and took a second cellphone from his nightstand. A cheap, simple one. He checked its battery. He checked it had signal. “Of course it will. We’ll have confirmation soon. Nine o’clock. Nine-fifteen at the latest.”
* * *
—
The VW was less conspicuous than Roth’s truck but it would still stand out in such a small town. People might know it belonged to the kid from the hotel. The police probably would. Reacher bet they’d pulled him over plenty of times. The way the bus stank of weed it was pretty much probable cause on wheels. Plus its reliability was unknown. Reacher didn’t want faulty components or a lack of maintenance to do the cops’ work for them and leave him and Hannah stranded at the side of the road. So they decided to lie low for the remainder of the night. They headed to a place near the foot of the hill outside the town. Reacher remembered seeing a track leading into a thick grove of trees. At the time he’d figured it could be a firebreak, or was created to provide access for forestry equipment. Either way, it would give them good cover until the morning.
Hannah took her hand off the wheel and picked the envelope up from the dashboard for the third time since they left the hotel. “How do you think they got a letter addressed to Danny? Maybe he took it to work, meaning to deal with it, and dropped it? Someone found it and was planning to deliver it to his house?”
Reacher said, “Let’s ask him about it in the morning. What time are we seeing him?”
“Nothing’s set. I couldn’t get hold of him. He’s an early riser so I’ll try again first thing. And if he doesn’t answer we can always just show up and surprise him.”
* * *
—
The VW was fitted out with a bed and a kitchen and a table and a couch. Reacher appreciated the ingenuity that had gone into the design. And the thoroughness. Every tiny space had been used. But there was no getting away from the fact that the space was tiny. Reacher decided it would be better to let Hannah have it to herself so he dug through the cupboards until he found a bunch of old blankets. He took one. Spread it on the ground. And lay down under the stars.
There were two words on Reacher’s mind as he got ready to sleep. Brockman. And lockdown. Brockman was a name he’d heard more than once. The guy from Minerva who had sent out all the thugs. Reacher wanted to find him. Kick down his door in the middle of the night. See how he liked it. And see what he knew about whatever it was that Angela St. Vrain had stumbled across.
The problem was that Brockman might not know anything. If Minerva people started getting attacked in their homes it could trigger panic. And lockdown is the default panic response of people who run prisons. It’s in their DNA. So he would have to be patient. They had two leads to follow. Danny Peel, and the release ceremony. He would see what came of those. If nothing productive was uncovered, then he would go after Brockman. And whoever else was involved, until he got some satisfactory answers.
Chapter 38
Hannah woke Reacher at a minute after 7:30 a.m. She shook his shoulder and said, “Danny’s still not answering his phone. I’m getting worried. I think we should go to his place. Right now.”
* * *
—
The directions to Danny’s house were already teed up on Hannah’s phone. Its electronic voice ordered them back to the road, then right, which was the way to Winson. It took Hannah a couple of minutes to get the VW facing the right way. The track was narrow. The steering was heavy. The clutch was stiff. She sawed back and forward, bumping and lurching across the rough surface, until she got a straight shot forward. She picked up a little speed. Reached the mouth of the track. And almost hit a pedestrian. A kid. He looked like he was in his mid-teens. He was pushing some kind of fancy bike up the hill. Very slowly. It was like a contest. Like the bike was trying to pull him back down.
The smart money would be on the bike, Reacher thought.
The kid stopped. He was startled by the ancient bus suddenly appearing out of the trees. He stared through the windshield for a moment. Then he toppled backward and the bike landed on top of him.
* * *
—
Hannah jumped out and rushed up to the kid. “Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry. Are you OK?”