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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.

Reacher could feel the desk clerk staring at him. He could practically hear what the guy was thinking. He was wondering why the police were interested in these particular guests. Whether he would have a story to tell in the morning. And whether there would be any kind of a mess to clear up.

—

It took the Minerva IT guy ten seconds to get Bruno Hix’s computer display set up the way he wanted it.

The guy had been forced to leave his cats to eat their dinner alone. He had been made to come back to the prison on his own time. And he had still brought his A game. No one could have solved the problem more quickly or efficiently. That was for sure. So he couldn’t understand why the big boss seemed even more annoyed when the job was finished than he had been at the start.

The guy was part offended, part confused. He had done a great job, which wasn’t appreciated, but he must also have committed some kind of appalling faux pas. Hix’s attitude made that obvious. The problem was, he had no idea what he’d done that was so bad. He started to summon the courage to ask Hix what the problem was, but before he could speak one of his mother’s favorite expressions started to echo in his head: When you’re in a hole, stop digging. He figured that meant the smart move would be to get out of the office before he made things any worse, so he muttered a vague apology and hurried to the door. He pulled it open, glanced back at Hix, and almost blundered straight into Damon Brockman, who was heading the opposite way.

Brockman waited for the IT guy to scurry off down the corridor then said, “Good news. We just dodged a bullet.”

Hix switched off his computer monitor and said, “We did? How?”

“Our guys not intercepting Reacher at the truck stop? Or at the construction zone? That was a blessing in disguise. Turns out Reacher’s not working alone. He has a partner. A woman. If our guys had put Reacher on ice the way we told them to, we wouldn’t know anything about her. She’d still be out there, invisible, free to do who knows what tomorrow.”

“How did you find out?”

“One of Moseley’s guys spotted the truck Reacher was using. Just outside of town. He pulled it over, expecting to find Reacher on his own, but a woman was driving. Reacher was in the passenger seat.”

“The cop found Reacher? Where is he now?”

“At the Winson Garden. With the woman.”

“You sure?”

Brockman nodded. “The cop directed them there. Followed them. Confirmed they checked in.”

Hix drummed his fingers on the desktop, then said, “What about this woman? Who is she? What do we know about her?”

“The cop got her ID. Her name’s Hannah Hampton. She’s Sam Roth’s ex-wife. She told the cop they were still close. Before he died. That she had permission to use his truck.”

Hix got up, crossed to the window, and looked out through the fence toward the curved parking lot. “I don’t get it. We thought Reacher was only involved because of some fluky chance encounter.”

“Right.”

“We bought into the idea he just happened to be in Gerrardsville. Saw what happened to Angela St. Vrain. Stuck his nose in where it wasn’t wanted.”

“That is what happened.”

“Then how come he’s hooked up with Sam Roth’s widow? That can’t be a coincidence.”

Brockman shrugged. “Reacher stuck his nose in a bit deeper. That’s all. He heard about Roth’s death. He decided it didn’t pass the smell test. So he started to dig. It’s natural he would talk to Roth’s widow. Especially given that she found the body.”

“What if there’s another explanation? We didn’t know Roth was close to his ex. It didn’t cross my mind. All the divorced people I know hate their exes. I certainly do. I’d happily grind both of mine into hamburger meat and feed them to the dogs if I could get away with it.”

“I know you would. But what does it matter who Roth was close to?”

“People confide in the people they’re close to. What if Roth told his ex what Angela had told him? What if the three of them figured out what’s going to happen tomorrow? They would know they couldn’t go to the police. So maybe they hired Reacher. He could have been in Gerrardsville specifically to meet them. Not because of some random chance. Our whole theory could be way off the mark.”

“I don’t see it. Why would they hire Reacher? How would they know about him? And how would they get hold of him? The guy’s a drifter.”

“Is he? Maybe he just wants people to think that. As cover. He’s a retired cop. Lots of those guys set up as private detectives when they turn in their badges.”

“He was an MP. Not a regular cop.”