Nothing To Lose Part 31

"You sure?"

"No question. Plus she was too quiet and timid. She wasn't military."

"So what did she want from the MPs? And why isn't she back yet?"

"Did the old guy actually see her get in?"

"Sure," Vaughan said. "He waited, like an old-fas.h.i.+oned gentleman."

"Therefore a better question would be, if they let her in, what did they want from her?"

Vaughan said, "Something to do with espionage."

Reacher shook his head. "I was wrong about that. They're not worried about espionage. They'd have the plant b.u.t.toned up, east and west, probably with a presence inside, or at least on the gates."

"So why are they there?"

"They're guarding the truck route. Which means they're worried about theft, of something that would need a truck to haul away. Something heavy, too heavy for a regular car."

"Something too heavy for a small plane, then."

Reacher nodded. "But that plane is involved somehow. This morning I was barging around and therefore they had to shut down the secret operation for a spell, and tonight the plane didn't fly. I didn't hear it, and I found it later, right there in its hangar."

"You think it only flies when they've been working on the military stuff?"

"I know for sure it didn't when they hadn't been, so maybe the obverse is true, too."

"Carrying something? In or out?"

"Maybe both. Like trading."

"Secrets?"

"Maybe."

"People? Like Lucy Anderson's husband?"

Reacher drained his mug. Shook his head. "I can't make that work. There's a logic problem with it. Almost mathematical."

"Try me," Vaughan said. "I did four years of college."

"How long have you got?"

"I'd love to catch whoever dropped the gum wrapper. But I could put that on the back burner, if you like."

Reacher smiled. "There are three things going on over there. The military contract, plus something else, plus something else again."

"OK," Vaughan said. She moved the saltshaker, the pepper shaker, and the sugar shaker to the center of the table. "Three things."

Reacher moved the saltshaker to one side, immediately. "The military contract is what it is. Nothing controversial. Nothing to worry about, except the possibility that someone might steal something heavy. And that's the MPs' problem. They're straddling the road, they've got six Humvees, they've got thirty miles of empty s.p.a.ce for a running battle, they can stop any truck they need to. No special vigilance required from the townspeople. No reason for the townspeople to get excited at all."

"But?"

Reacher cupped his hands and put his left around the pepper shaker and his right around the sugar shaker. "But the townspeopleare excited about something. excited about something.All of them. They of them. Theyare vigilant. Today they all turned out in defense of something." vigilant. Today they all turned out in defense of something."

"What something?"

"I have no clue." He held up the sugar shaker, in his right hand. "But it's the bigger of the two unknowns. Because everyone is involved in it. Let's call it the right hand, as in the right hand doesn't know what the left is doing."

"What's the left hand?"

Reacher held up the pepper shaker, in his left hand. "It's smaller. It involves a subset of the population. A small, special subgroup. Everyone knows about the sugar, mostdon't know about the pepper, a few know about both the sugar know about the pepper, a few know about both the sugarand the pepper." the pepper."

"And we don't know about either."

"But we will."

"How does this relate to Lucy Anderson's husband not being taken out by plane?"

Reacher held up the sugar shaker. A large gla.s.s item, in his right hand. "Thurman flies the plane. Thurman is the town boss. Thurman directs the larger unknown. It couldn't happen any other way. And if the Anderson guy had been a part of it, everyone would have been aware. Including the town cops and Judge Gardner. Thurman would have made sure of that. Therefore Lucy Anderson would not have been arrested, and she would not have been thrown out as a vagrant."

"So Thurman's doing something, and everyone is helping, but a few are also working on something else behind his back?"

Reacher nodded. "And that something the few are working on behind his back involves these young guys."

"And the young guys either get through or they don't, depending on who they b.u.mp into first, the many right-hand people or the few left-hand people."

"Exactly. And there's a new one now. Name of Rogers, just arrested, but I didn't see him."

"Rogers? I've heard that name before."

"Where?"

"I don't know."

"Wherever, he was one of the unlucky ones."

"The odds will always be against them."

"Exactly."

"Which was Ramirez's problem."

"No, Ramirez didn't b.u.mp into anyone," Reacher said. "I checked the records. He was neither arrested nor helped."

"Why? What made him different?"

"Great question," Reacher said.

"What's the answer?"

"I don't know."

48

The clock in Reacher's head hit one in the morning and the clock on the diner's wall followed it a minute later. Vaughan looked at her watch and said, "I better get back in the saddle."

Reacher said, "OK."

"Go get some sleep."

"OK."

"Will you come with me to Colorado Springs? To the lab, with the water sample?"

"When?"

"Tomorrow, today, whatever it is now."

"I don't know anything about water."

"That's why we're going to the lab."

"What time?"

"Leave at ten?"

"That's early for you."

"I don't sleep anyway. And this is the end of my pattern. I'm off duty for four nights now. Ten on, four off. And we should leave early because it's a long ride, there and back."

"Still trying to keep me out of trouble? Even on your downtime?"

"I've given up on keeping you out of trouble."

"Then why?"

Vaughan said, "Because I'd like your company. That's all."

She put four bucks on the table for her juice. She put the salt and the pepper and the sugar back where they belonged. Then she slid out of the booth and walked away and pushed through the door and headed for her car.

Reacher showered and was in bed by two o'clock in the morning. He slept dreamlessly and woke up at eight. He showered again and walked the length of the town to the hardware store. He spent five minutes looking at ladders on the sidewalk, and then he went inside and found the racks of pants and s.h.i.+rts and chose a new one of each. This time he went for darker colors and a different brand. Prewashed, and therefore softer. Less durable in the long term, but he wasn't interested in the long term.

He changed in his motel room and left his old stuff folded on the floor next to the trash can. Maybe the maid had a needy male relative his size. Maybe she would know how to launder things so they came out at least marginally flexible. He stepped out of his room and saw that Maria's bathroom light was on. He walked to the office. The clerk was on her stool. Behind her shoulder, the hook for Maria's room had no key on it. The clerk saw him looking and said, "She came back this morning."

He asked, "What time?"

"Very early. About six."

"Did you see how she got here?"

The woman looked both ways and lowered her voice and said, "In an armored car. With a soldier."

"An armored car?"

"Like you see on the news."

Reacher said, "A Humvee."

The woman nodded. "Like a jeep. But with a roof. The soldier didn't stay. Which I'm glad about. I'm no prude, but I couldn't permit a thing like that. Not here."

"Don't worry," Reacher said. "She already has a boyfriend."

Or had,he thought.

The woman said, "She's too young to be fooling around with soldiers."

"Is there an age limit?"

"There ought to be."

Reacher paid his bill and walked back down the row, doing the math. According to the old man's telephone testimony, he had let Maria out at the MP base around eight-thirty the previous morning. She had arrived back in a Humvee at six. The Humvee wouldn't have detoured around the Interstates. It would have come straight through Despair, which was a thirty-minute drive, max. Therefore she had been held for twenty-one hours. Therefore her problem was outside of the FOB's local jurisdiction. She had been locked in a room and her story had been pa.s.sed up the chain of command. Phone tag, voice mails, secure telexes. Maybe a conference call. Eventually, a decision taken elsewhere, release, the offer of a ride home.

Sympathy, but no help.

No help about what?

He stopped outside her door and listened. The shower wasn't running. He waited one minute in case she was toweling off and a second minute in case she was dressing. Then he knocked. A third minute later she opened the door. Her hair was slick with water. The weight gave it an extra inch of length. She was dressed in jeans and a blue T-s.h.i.+rt. No shoes. Her feet were tiny, like a child's. Her toes were straight. She had been raised by conscientious parents, who had cared about appropriate footwear.

"You OK?" he asked her, which was a dumb question. She didn't look OK. She looked small and tired and lost and bewildered.

She didn't answer.

He said, "You went to the MP base, asking about Raphael."

She nodded.

He said, "You thought they could help you, but they didn't."

She nodded.