“What are you saying? That I shouldn’t meet my own dad? Because—”
“Not at all. Meeting you, getting to know you, that’ll be the best thing that ever happens to him. But finding out he has a kid, on top of all the other changes he’s going to be facing, that’s a huge deal. It’s a transition that has to be handled carefully. Slowly. And today—release day—might not be the best time.”
“But he doesn’t know I was even born. He doesn’t know to look for me. If we don’t connect today, he’ll disappear again. I’ll never find him.”
“That’s not how it works.” Hannah rummaged in her purse, pulled out a card, and handed it to Jed. “Here’s what I suggest you do. Go to the ceremony outside the prison. See your dad get his freedom back. That’s a big deal. It’s obviously important to you, since you came all this way. And it’ll mean the world to him that you did. But give him a day or two. Then get in touch. Call me when you’re ready. I know how the system works. I can help you find where he’s staying.”
“What am I going to do for a day or two? In Winson? I have no money. Nothing to eat. Nowhere to sleep.”
Reacher fished another wallet out of the pillowcase and took the cash from it. There was $240. He passed it to Jed. “Hannah’s right. You should listen to her. You’re at a crossroads in your life. It’s important you choose the right way to go.”
* * *
—
Jed wrestled the bike down from the rack at the rear of the bus, climbed on, and pedaled straight ahead toward Winson. Hannah pressed the clutch down, then let it back up again without touching the gear stick.
She said, “This is a bad situation. I’m worried about that kid.”
Reacher said, “You’re right. He’s terrible on that bike. We should have made him walk.”
“I’m not talking about road safety. It’s the whole deal with Begovic getting released. Minerva will arrange support for him. It’s all a big PR stunt so Hix will make sure it’s done right. He won’t want stories in the press about Begovic killing himself or committing some crime just to get locked up again. But Jed? Who’s going to look out for him? If it’s true that his mom is dead, he’s got no one. I’ve seen this before. I know how it will play out. The poor kid’s setting himself up to fail.”
* * *
—
The phone prompted them to proceed to the route so Hannah took the left turn. Then the phone had them swing away to the south and skirt around the center of the town. The road was surrounded by trees. They were tall and mature, but there were no buildings for more than half a mile. Then they came to a house. It was huge. It was gleaming white. Four columns supported a porch and a balcony, which jutted out at the center. Further balconies ran the whole width on two levels on either side. The place was the size of a hotel and it was surrounded by a wall with a fancy iron gate. A driveway wrapped around an oval patch of grass with flowers and shrubs and a raised fountain. A car was parked between the fountain and the steps leading up to the front door. A BMW sedan. It was large and black. Reacher recognized it. The day before it had been in the curved lot outside the prison.
They continued for another three-quarters of a mile then turned to the west. The trees thinned out and houses began to appear on both sides of the street. The homes grew closer and larger and more uniform until the phone said their destination was a hundred feet ahead, on the left. That would place Danny’s house on the final lot before a smaller road peeled away to the south. But there was a problem. That lot was empty.
Hannah pulled over at the side of the street and they saw that the lot wasn’t completely empty. There was a stand-alone garage in the far corner, with a short drive leading to the side road. There was a mailbox mounted on a skinny metal pole. It had originally been red but the paint had faded over the years, leaving it pink, like a flamingo. And the main portion of the lot hadn’t been empty long. It was full of ash. Black and gray and uneven, heaped up in some places, sagging down in others, with the scorched remnants of a brick fireplace in the approximate center.
Reacher climbed out of the VW. He could smell smoke. Hannah joined him on the sidewalk. She was blinking rapidly and her mouth was open but she didn’t speak. Reacher figured there wasn’t much to say. A minute later a man approached them from the next-door house. He looked to be in his sixties, tall, thin, with silver hair, a plaid shirt, and jeans that looked like they were in danger of falling down.