by Diane Capri
“Why would anyone destroy an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere?” Kim wondered aloud. “Kids? Arson to collect insurance?”
“Motives could have been just about anything.” Smithers shook his head. His entire plate was almost as clean as if he’d put it in the dishwasher. A man his size had to have a hearty appetite, sure, but he was an eating machine.
“If the place was deliberately destroyed,” she said.
He nodded. “Right. Could have been a lightning strike or a gas leak or even spontaneous combustion if they had flammable stuff stored in one of those barns. We just don’t know yet.”
Kim cocked her head. “Who owned the place?”
“Offshore shell corporations, near as we can tell. We’ve got the Boston field office working on that angle,” Smithers replied. He picked up the menu and studied the dessert offerings.
“So you don’t have much to go on at all, do you? No identification on the bodies or the vehicles. No theories about what happened to the buildings. No motives for criminal activity out there,” Kim said, frowning. “Am I missing anything else you don’t have?”
Smithers grinned. “Nope. We’ve got a big bunch of nothin’ so far. And nothin’ on the horizon, either. Except frostbite if we’re not careful.”
“How much more time do you need for processing the scene?” She asked.
A troubled look marred his features. “More than we have. Bad weather is moving in. We’ve got to pack up and go by the end of the day tomorrow.”
Kim finished her salad and pushed the plate aside, feeling comfortably full and warm and a little bit sleepy. None of what Smithers said made much sense as far as Reacher was concerned.
Everything she knew about Reacher led her to believe that he was a violent man when provoked. She figured he would’ve burned the place to the ground under the right circumstances. But what were those circumstances? And what was he doing out there in the boondocks in the first place?
Maybe Gaspar had something to contribute on that score. But she couldn’t call him back now and he’d be sleeping by the time she returned to her room.
Laconia Detectives Shaw and Amos might fill in the blanks tomorrow morning. Tonight, she relaxed in front of the big fire, ordered another glass of wine, and watched Smithers wolf down two big slices of apple pie a la mode.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Friday, February 25
8:15 p.m.
Syracuse, New York
Jake’s shoulders were tight with the tension of holding the Jeep on the road.
The last fifty miles had been harrowing. Driving the Jeep at a top speed of thirty miles an hour, the wind buffeted the boxy SUV like a kitten with a yarn ball.
His eyes felt hot and dry. He needed a shower, a meal, and about ten hours sleep.
They’d lost cell service for a while, but Julia had looked at the map and located a no-frills hotel with a brew pub across the street just inside the city limits. “The hotel’s not a name brand, and the area is a little dodgy, but it should be okay.”
Jake had nodded and kept his eyes on the road. “When we get there, we’ll stop for the night. Unless you’d like me to drop you somewhere else first?”
“That place is fine with me. There’s a campground close by and the burgers at the pub across the street are pretty good,” Julia replied, a little nervously. “Burger and a beer won’t cost us an arm and a leg, either.”
Half an hour later, he parked in the hotel lot and then turned to face her. “This is a little awkward, but we can cut costs if we share a room with two queen beds.”
Her eyes widened.
He rushed on before she could get the wrong idea. “You said you couldn’t afford to fly home, so I figure money is tight. And you can’t possibly sleep outside tonight, even if you do have a tent in your backpack.”
She didn’t reply.
“No strings attached. I promise.” He raised both hands, palms out. “Look, what’s the big deal? We had co-ed dorms at school and you probably did, too, Right?”
Still, she hesitated.
He said, “Come on, Julia. We’re only going to be here a few hours. I’m harmless. And even if I wasn’t, I promise you, I’m too tired to try anything tonight anyway.”
She didn’t say no, but she seemed like she wanted to refuse, which made no sense to him at all. The temperature would be well below zero out there tonight. And he’d seen the look of gratitude on her face before she’d squelched it, which made him feel good about nudging her to say yes.
After a bit of silent internal argument, she shrugged and swiped a long lock of blonde hair away from her face. “Seems like a reasonable thing to do.”
“Right,” he said. “Let’s get going. I’m hungry.”
They grabbed their bags and mushed through the snow to the hotel entrance to check in. They took the elevator to the third floor, dropped their bags in the room.
Jake abandoned his plans for a shower before food. He was too hungry to wait. They washed up quickly and then trudged outside again and across the parking lot toward the street. The pub was on the opposite side of the road. Maybe a hundred yards from the hotel’s entrance. With the blizzard the way it was, those hundred yards would feel more like two hundred by the time they made it all the way.
But they did make it. Snow-covered and cold and shivering, but without damage.
Julia opened the pub’s door and the aroma of yeast common to warm and cozy brew pubs everywhere rushed out, along with a cacophony of noise too loud to be contained. She went in first and he followed close behind, stomping the snow off his feet on the way.
The place was jamming, which he hadn’t expected, given the miserable weather. She flipped her hood back and looked around until she spied an empty booth on the other side of the bar. She pointed and walked in that direction, unzipping her parka and pulling her gloves off along the way.
When she passed a table of four burly guys about Jake’s age, one of them reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Long time no see, hot stuff,” he said, with a sloppy sneer.
“Let’s keep it that way, Carl.” She jerked her arm hard and he lost his grip.
His arm fell back and his elbow nudged a full beer glass off the edge of the table. It dropped to the floor and shattered, sending beer and shards in all directions. Carl’s face reddened instantly.
His three buddies laughed, which caused Carl’s face to flush a darker red and his nostrils to flare. He placed both hands on the table, preparing to stand. Jake increased his stride and came up behind Julia before the argument could escalate. Carl looked him up and down, but he made no move.
Julia stared Carl down and cast the same withering look of contempt toward his tablemates. When none of the four stood or hurled more insults for a full minute, she tossed her head and continued toward the booth.
Jake nodded at the guys, one at a time, before he followed her. He could feel their eyes on him, but if they said anything more, he didn’t hear it. Which was lucky for them. The last thing he wanted tonight was a fight, but he wouldn’t run from an asshat like Carl, either.
Julia slid into the booth and Jake sat across from her. They ordered burgers, fries, and mugs of the house-brewed lager. The beer arrived quickly. Julia sipped and then leaned closer across the table.
“Carl is a jerk,” she said.
Jake nodded. “I could see that.”
“I dated him a couple of times in high school,” she said, as if she owed him an explanation but was embarrassed to admit the fact, which Jake absolutely understood. Carl wasn’t the kind of guy an accomplished woman like Julia would want.
“Let me guess. He was an athlete. Captain of some team. Football, probably. He looks like he might have had the bulk for it before he developed a thirst for beer,” Jake said with a smile. He sipped the lager, which was actually good. He liked brew pubs in general, and he liked the good ones especially.
Julia shrugged. She frowned and her tone was troubled. “I know it�
�s a cliché. But yeah. He was popular. All the girls were jealous of me, which felt good for a while. They didn’t know him like I did.”
“You dumped him, right?” Jake knew how this story went. Carl’s pride was wounded. Julia stayed out of his way. Which was smart. “He never got past it.”
She nodded but didn’t meet his eyes. “He followed me home one night. And he…wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Jake felt his neck flush and the heat moved up. His pulse pounded in his ears. “He raped you?”
“No. But he tried. You noticed his hair is pretty long. That’s because he’s missing a good chunk of cartilage on his right ear from our last, uh, encounter.” Julia grinned briefly before she cleared her throat to finish her story. “I stayed out of his way after that. We graduated and he went off to college to play football. Haven’t seen him since.”
Jake nodded and said nothing, giving his blood pressure a chance to stabilize. The server brought the food and Julia talked about inconsequential things while they ate. The burgers were big and juicy, the fries were hot and crispy, and the beer was cold. Everything was just the way he liked it.
He swallowed a mouthful of food and washed it down. “This meal is incredible. We got lucky here. How’d you find this place?”
Julia ate with no less enthusiasm. She must have been starving, too. “I told you, I come through here fairly often on my way home to Buffalo. I like great food, and a long-haul trucker I hitched from Albany with once recommended this place. I’ve stopped here several times since then. Never been disappointed.”
Julia kept him entertained with stories of her classmates’ kitchen disasters for another half hour. Jake glanced toward Carl’s table from time to time. He didn’t want any trouble, but he didn’t want to be blindsided, either.
Carl and his buddies finally stood to leave. They tossed a few bills on the table to pay for their beers and headed toward the exit. Jake watched them go through the door and confirmed the clock in his head by checking the time on the big clock over the bar. He’d give them a solid head start. Twenty minutes, at least.
He considered a second burger but opted for a second beer instead. After precisely thirty-two minutes, Jake yawned. “I’m sorry, but I’m exhausted. Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah. Let’s do it,” she replied. They split the tab, left a generous tip, and bundled up for the trek through the blizzard to the hotel.
At the exit door, Julia flipped her hood up and donned her gloves. She pushed the door open and walked through, lowering her head against the blinding snow. Jake pulled a knit cap low on his ears, turned his collar up, and followed.
The snow had piled about three inches higher while they were inside and the wind gusts had pushed the snow into five-foot drifts alongside the pub building. Vehicles in the parking lot were buried in heavy, wet snow.
The entire area felt deserted. Jake put his hand over his eyes to keep the pelting snow away long enough to check for traffic. The light at the corner was out and no headlights were traveling along the road.
Julia made her way around like a woman from Buffalo who had plenty of experience navigating the perils of winter. Jake stayed cautiously aware of their surroundings. The last thing either of them needed was a sprained ankle or a broken bone. Things like that could happen quickly in this kind of weather.
He wasn’t too worried about Carl and his friends. Maybe revenge was a dish best served cold, but that was just a metaphor, not a solid plan for a long life. Only a total idiot would hang around outside on a night like this waiting for a fight over an ancient grudge. Whatever else he was, Carl surely couldn’t have been that stupid.
Besides, Carl got what he deserved back then. Maybe he wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he must have known Julia could have had him arrested. He’d have been charged. Done jail time, probably. That would have been the end of his football career, such as it was.
Carl got off easy back then. Surely he was smart enough to keep going tonight.
But Jake fell back and kept a vigilant watch just in case.
The next time he looked up, Julia had widened the gap between them. She was trudging straight ahead, bent forward against the wind, making steady progress toward the street at a faster clip than he expected. She walked past a barely visible white mini-van almost completely covered by drifting snow.
Jake blinked at the wrong moment. He didn’t see exactly what happened. When his eyes popped open, he saw the aftermath.
Julia went down. He saw her falling, like a slow motion film clip. She landed flat on her back, boots out in front of her. Her head smacked the soft snow.
She might have slipped on a patch of black ice.
Maybe.
Jake made the reasonable assumption that Carl was responsible.
He wasn’t wrong.
Carl stepped around the mini-van, laughing like a maniacal hyena in the cold wind. His three pals stood close by, enjoying the hilarity.
Then Carl bent over Julia, putting his face close enough to kiss her.
“Carl!” Jake shouted into the wind. He launched fast and increased his pace, gathering momentum on the slippery snow. He made a straight line directly toward Carl. Long strides. Hands at his sides. Shoulders loose. He kept his head up and his eyes hard.
He didn’t care about the other three fools. When he took Carl down, the others would scatter. Or not. It didn’t matter. Either way, Carl was going down first.
Carl didn’t seem to hear Jake coming. The wind carried his warning away before it reached Carl’s ears. But something snagged his attention because he lifted his head and glanced toward Jake.
Carl’s eyes jumped to life. He seemed confused by Jake’s change of pace. He managed to scramble to his feet and throw the first punch, which Jake caught easily in his left palm, like a soft liner to first base.
Carl’s fist was big, but Jake’s open hand was bigger. He clamped down on the fist and squeezed and continued his forward momentum. Jake added a twist to the squeeze and the push.
The paunchy ex-footballer screamed when his elbow bent at an unnatural angle and he fell awkwardly onto the ground, writhing in pain and holding his elbow. The screams kept coming, but Jake held on for a while to make sure Carl never forgot the point. The wind carried Carl’s screams away.
Jake looked around for Carl’s posse. They’d scattered into the blinding snow. Just as he’d figured they would. He finally released the pressure on Carl’s arm and dropped it.
He turned to help Julia off the ground, but she was already up, dusting herself off. She looked at Carl with no sympathy whatsoever. Her right foot drew back slightly and Jake thought she might kick Carl square in the face. He would have. Hell, he might do it yet if she didn’t.
Instead, she glared at Jake. Her tone was as hard as nails. “What the hell is wrong with you? I can fight my own battles. If I need your help, I’ll ask for it. Otherwise, keep your Sir Galahad routine to yourself.”
She watched Carl’s whimpering for a few seconds, like she might still haul off and kick him. But she didn’t. She gave the scum more mercy than he deserved. She flipped her hood up.
“Come on. Let’s go,” she said, heading once again toward the hotel.
Jake was barely breathing hard. He was cold. He wanted to move on, too. But he didn’t want Carl following them now or in the morning, either.
He waited until Julia was out of range and then Jake drew back and kicked Carl a couple of times. Carl yelped and moaned.
Jake curled his lip. What a coward. Julia was right. She could have beaten this guy to a pulp. But she didn’t. Which meant Jake had to finish the job.
He kicked a third time, hard enough to keep Carl on the ground but not hard enough to do any permanent damage.
So he wouldn’t jump up and ambush them from behind.
So his friends would think better of stupid ideas like that, too.
So Carl would remember the fight in the morning when he tried to move and his body re
volted.
Carl fell silent. Jake nodded in satisfaction.
Then he followed Julia across the street.
CHAPTER NINE
Saturday, February 26
3:15 a.m. Pacific Time
Siesta Beach, California
Patty Sandstrom slept fitfully. She awakened at three fifteen in the morning, like she always did.
Or at least, like she’d been doing since that time in Laconia. Since then, every morning like clockwork, she’d awaken at three fifteen with a vague sense of disquiet. Never anything tangible. Nothing she could specifically identify.
Most times, her eyes simply popped open and she was instantly awake. She’d lie there, listening to Shorty’s steady breathing. She’d try to identify exactly what had awakened her. But she never could. After thirty minutes or so, her eyelids grew heavy and sleep would come again.
Not this night.
Had she heard something? Was someone in the flat? In the shop?
She lay quietly for five minutes, listening. She heard nothing out of the ordinary. Shorty snored softly, as always. The surf pounded the sand in the distance. Once or twice a car horn blasted from the street.
Nothing else. But she was uneasy.
She got out of bed and grabbed the flashlight she kept on the nightstand. The flashlight was big and heavy. It looked like it had been made out of a solid billet of aluminum. It would make a good weapon, if she needed one.
She slipped out of the bedroom as quietly as possible to avoid waking Shorty. She padded silently to the door and closed it behind her before turning the flashlight on. She walked every inch of the flat. She flashed the beam around the corners and behind the furniture.
