CHAPTER ONE
Thursday, February 24
5:30 p.m.
Laconia, New Hampshire
Jake Reacher found his mother in the kitchen facing the window over the sink, washing dishes, and staring at the bird feeder his father had installed in the side yard. His mother was an avid bird watcher. His father had been, too. More than two hundred species migrate through New Hampshire, Dad often said. His mother kept a diary, meticulously noting the date and time each spring when she saw her first Common Redpoll and Pine Siskin at the feeder.
Jake didn’t see the fascination with staying in the same place. He wanted to experience the world, not stagnate here in Laconia, New Hampshire. A long and lazy road trip sounded perfect. Take his time on the drive, see something of the country, and stay awhile once he reached sunshine and beaches.
The aromas coming from the oven declared his favorite pot roast was almost ready. His stomach rumbled like a hibernating bear awakened in the spring.
His entire life, his mother had had dinner on the table every day at six o’clock when her husband came home from work. Habit of a lifetime.
For a few days after his father’s funeral, she’d seemed foggy and unable to focus on much of anything. But she had set the small kitchen table for two instead of three tonight, which meant she had a good grasp on the reality of her situation. She was strong enough that he felt okay about leaving her alone.
Only the two of them were left now. David Reacher would never come through the back door again after a long day teaching science at the university. Would never place his keys on the counter or hang his jacket on the peg by the door. Would never again hug his wife and say, “It smells amazing in here. What’s for dinner?”
Jake shrugged. The situation was what it was. Pretending otherwise would not bring his father back. Cancer had killed him, slowly but effectively, while Jake had watched the process unfold over the past several months. There was no mistake. The only father he’d ever known was gone. Jake had accepted the truth. His mother needed to do the same.
She turned away from the sink at the sound of his footsteps entering the kitchen. She’d been crying again. Tear tracks marked her cheeks and glassy tears settled in her eyes making them appear even more luminous than usual. She reached up with the back of her soapy hand and swiped her nose and offered him a weak smile.
“Just in time.” She nodded toward the stove before she returned to the dishes. “Take the roast out of the oven for me, will you?”
He gave her shoulders a quick squeeze and said nothing. She felt as small and fragile as one of the songbirds she loved to watch. His father had encouraged her to take care of herself, but his pleas had made little difference. She’d stayed glued to his bedside day and night those last weeks and she’d eaten barely enough to keep a bird alive.
Jake looked down at her petite body. He had towered over both his parents for almost a decade now. He was twenty-two years old, but he had reached his full six feet, four inches long ago. He’d often wondered why he was so much taller and bigger than his parents. Or why he had blue eyes and fair hair when they were both darker. He’d assumed recessive genes were to blame. He knew now he’d been wrong.
He found the oversized oven mittens, which were too small to fit his huge hands. Holding the mitts like hot pads, he removed the heavy cast iron from the oven and set it on top of the stove. When he lifted the lid and set it aside, his stomach growled as the scent of pot roast, carrots, onions, and potatoes nestled in bubbling rich gravy filled the room.
“Put the rolls in the oven to warm, please. And the salad is in the refrigerator.” His mother tilted her head toward the appliance as if he might have forgotten where it was located, like she’d done a thousand times before. “I’ll just finish up these few dishes and we’ll be ready. You can pour the coffee if you like.”
Jake found the tossed green salad and salad dressings in the refrigerator and moved them to the table. He poured strong, black coffee for both of them. She would add cream to hers. When the rolls were hot, he carried the plates to the range and dished out the food as usual. All without comment.
Jake was quiet by nature. He saw no reason to fill the silence with idle chatter. When he had something to say, he said it. Otherwise, he kept his thoughts to himself and appreciated it when others did the same.
By the time they were seated in their usual places, his mother had managed to compose herself, even if her eyes and nose were still red. He had tried to comfort her by holding her hand on the table, without success. Old Man Reacher had told him she’d heal with time and he hoped that was true. He’d done all he could.
“Are you still leaving in the morning?” she asked as she placed her napkin on her lap.
“It’s best to get on the road while the weather holds,” he replied between mouthfuls.
Laconia, New Hampshire, was experiencing a winter thaw forecast to last another couple of days. The snow and ice had melted on the major thoroughfares and many of the busier side roads. His SUV had four-wheel drive, but the travel would be easier if he avoided the heavy snow as long as possible.
“It’s more than three thousand miles to the Pacific Ocean. How long do you figure it’ll take you to get there?” She was making conversation as if she believed his trip would be the grand adventure he’d claimed and she’d made peace with his decision. She hadn’t. But it seemed she had finally accepted that he was going, which was good.
He shrugged. “Driving time on the interstates is forty-four hours, but I’m planning to take the back roads. See a bit of the country along the way. Make a few stops.”
His mother nodded, pushing the food around on her plate with her fork. “Have you planned the route?”
“Not exactly. Maybe Boston to Syracuse, Cincinnati, St. Louis, Albuquerque. I’m not sure.” He was leaving room for serendipity to strike.
He put another forkful of beef in his mouth and chewed appreciatively. His mother was a damn good cook and he’d always had a hearty appetite. Eating well had produced his intimidating, heavily built body, all bone and muscle, which had always served him well.
She nodded again and focused her gaze on her meal. She had nothing new to offer. She’d already made all of her arguments for hours on end.
She’d said it was a long drive for one person to undertake. He was young. He could easily get into trouble. There was no reason for him to go off looking for a man who didn’t know he existed. Couldn’t he wait until spring when driving conditions would be better? Didn’t he have a friend he could take along? Wouldn’t he rather fly?
One by one, he had addressed her objections with replies that made sense to him if not to her.
It was a long drive, but he was looking forward to it. He was young, so he had boundless energy for the trip.
If trouble came his way, he could easily get himself out of it, as she well knew. Jake had been fighting his own battles since middle school, and looking out for his friends, too. Several times, she and his father had been called to the principal’s office, and later to the local police station, to bail him out after a fight. He never started trouble, but he was more than willing to finish it, and on his own terms.
There was every reason to go now because he had the break in his school schedule and he wanted to get away. If he was going to find the man, now was the best time. Perhaps the only time he’d have a chance of making it happen.
Sure, driving would be better in the spring, but he felt a sense of urgency and there was no reason not to go now. After college, with his dad sick, Jake had decided to take time off. But all of his good buddies had jobs or went straight to graduate school. None of his friends had the free time to tag along on an open-ended trip like this.
Flying was fine, but he wouldn’t get to see much of the country that way. And he didn’t want to spend his savings on a rental car in California when he had a perfectly good vehicle.
Their arguments had lasted well into the night for several nights. He hadn’t persuaded her, but eventually she’d stopped objecting. He’d packed up his Jeep and pointed its nose toward the street. He would be on the road before dawn tomorrow.
While he ate, his mother pushed her food around on her plate. She cocked her head and looked him in the eye. “After you find him, then what?”
Jake shrugged and said nothing because that was the one question for which he had no answer.
CHAPTER TWO
Friday, February 25
7:30 a.m.
Detroit, Michigan
FBI Special Agent Kim Otto rushed to make the plane at Detroit Metro Airport and took her seat on the aisle in first class. Flying was never her first choice. Not that the Boss ever gave her a choice. He’d called long before sunrise and delivered her orders. Same as always.
She’d roused John Lawton, her favorite Treasury agent, from a deep sleep.
“Where are you going?” he mumbled when she slipped from beneath the toasty covers into the cold morning.
“Laconia, New Hampshire. I’ll call when I can. Lock the door on your way out. I’ll tell the doorman you’ll be leaving so he doesn’t come in and shoot you.” She grinned, but he wasn’t looking.
“You could give me a key and all of this would be a lot easier,” he mumbled into his pillow.”
She didn’t reply. Her relationship with John was too new for exchanging keys. But that wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have now.
The trip from her apartment and the flight itself were uneventful. When the pilot announced initial descent, Kim said a quick prayer. Now all the pilot had to do was land safely. She crossed her fingers.
High above Laconia, she looked out of the window to see rolling hills, barren trees, and a lot of snow. Exactly the kind of landscape she’d expected after her internet research. She’d never enjoyed the snow or the cold and she got plenty of that at home in Detroit. She would not have volunteered to travel to New Hampshire in February.
But she got lucky, for once. The northeast was experiencing a brief winter thaw. Snow still covered everything, of course. But yesterday, the temperature in Laconia was forty degrees, barely cold enough to need a coat. She planned to spend as little time as possible and then get the hell out before the frigid weather returned.
The municipal airport came into view. The runway was clear and the plane landed without mishap.
“So far, so good,” she muttered under her breath as she pried her fingers from the armrests, popped another antacid to calm her rebellious stomach, collected her bags, and deplaned.
She bundled up and made her way downstairs to the exit. The first thing she noticed was a blast of cold air. The second thing was a familiar black SUV waiting at the curb. The driver, a huge black man she recognized, lowered the window. He smiled at her, revealing an envious mouth full of bright white teeth.
“Right on time, Otto,” FBI Special Agent Reggie Smithers said. His deep voice was as smooth as silk, just as she remembered.
Smithers was assigned to the New York field office. They had worked together last month on a case there. He had proved to be reliable and competent and she liked him. He was also intimidating as hell, which could come in handy.
Now that Gaspar had retired, she didn’t know when she’d get her new partner or who he would be. If he was auditioning, Smithers would have her vote. She could do a lot worse.
“I’m having déjà vu.” She smiled because she was genuinely glad to see him. “Didn’t we just do this?”
“Feels like it, doesn’t it?” He grinned, waving her toward the right side of the vehicle.
She walked around the front of the SUV, stowed her bags in the back, and climbed into the passenger seat. He waited patiently without comment for her to get settled and then he slipped the transmission into drive and rolled into traffic.
“Thanks for picking me up. I wasn’t expecting you,” she said. “Did you get transferred to Boston?”
“Temporarily. They needed some extra help. I volunteered for taxi duty when I heard you were coming. Give us a chance to talk.”
“Something specific you wanted to talk about?”
Smithers nodded. “Is Reacher somehow involved in this thing?”
When they had worked together in New York, Kim’s assignment was to complete a background check on Jack Reacher for the Special Personnel Task Force. Reacher was being considered for a classified assignment.
Recently, her assignment had been modified. Not only was she researching Reacher’s background, she was looking for the man himself. The Boss would not have sent her here unless he believed the trip would lead her to Reacher. Eventually.
But she was also working under the radar. Which meant she couldn’t share everything with Smithers or anyone else. And Smithers had once worked for Lamont Finlay and Gaspar never liked that connection. Which made her somewhat wary of him, too. So she sidestepped the question.
“I never know for sure why I’m sent anywhere. But I’d say it’s a safe bet that Reacher’s at the center of something around here,” she replied before she changed the subject. “I saw the photos of the motel. What happened?”
Smithers let the Reacher matter drop for now. “We’re not exactly sure. We’re still working on the crime scene. It looks like multiple explosions followed by a fire. There were several vehicles out there and all of them seemed to have had full gas tanks.”
“Must’ve been quite a sight when all of that went up in flames. Noisy as hell, too.”
Otto had read the reports, thin as they were.
Laconia, New Hampshire, was a frigid place. Nighttime temperatures in February were single digits. An average of sixty-four inches of snow fell in the winter. Which was about four times the national average. Later in the winter, the snow might have easily piled five inches above Kim’s head.
As it was, the total accumulation had been forty-one inches so far this year, but about twelve inches of snow had melted rapidly during the thaw over the past few days. When the snow melted, it revealed what was left of a motel, outbuildings, and several vehicles. All had burned in what must have been a white-hot fire, leaving nothing but charred remains and ashes.
The aerial photographs she’d seen in the files could have been printed in black and white since they were completely devoid of color. They showed a snow-covered clearing in the dense woods. Presumably there was a road that led to the clearing, but if so, it had not been plowed at the time the photos were shot. She saw no indication that any humans had been near the area recently, either.
She shook her head. “And nobody saw or heard anything at the time all this went down? Nobody found the destruction after all these months? How is that even possible?”
“Only thing we can figure is this place is pretty isolated. No neighbors close by. Hardly any road traffic. The motel had been abandoned years ago, we were told. So who would come out there? If it hadn’t been for that kid taking pictures with his drone, might have been years before we discovered any of it.” Smithers gave her a meaningful side eye. “Not that finding the place earlier would’ve made a difference, you know?”
“Yeah. I guess that makes sense,” Kim replied. She tugged the seat belt which pulled uncomfortably against her neck. She repositioned her alligator clamp at the retractor to increase the slack in the belt for a while.
Smithers navigated the big SUV easily along the narrow backroads deeper into a forested area. The leafless trees closed in, making it dark for the middle of the day. The SUV’s headlights had come on automatically, which helped a bit.
The roads had been plowed since the kid’s drone photos were taken, probably by law enforcement agencies seeking access to the crime scene. There were no other signs of human life in the area now that Otto could see.
She looked out of the windows at the landscape beneath the denuded trees. Patches of leaves were visible here and there on the ground where the snow had melted. She saw no homes. No shops. No people. No traffic moving in either direction.
“Where are we going, exactly?” she asked.
“About twenty miles from Laconia, give or take. Almost there.” Smithers slowed the big vehicle to a crawl as they approached the mouth of a narrow road up ahead on the left. The snow had been plowed aside to create an even narrower lane barely wide enough for the SUV.
“How did you ever find this place?” Kim asked.
“Bloodhounds,” he replied with a grin as he turned carefully into the lane.
Snow was piled high on each side of the lane, almost like a tunnel. The trees were so thick that the roads would be dark even at high noon when the trees were fully leafed in the summer. As it was, Kim found herself straining to distinguish objects from shadows.
He moved the transmission into four-wheel drive and slowed his speed further. His eyes looked straight ahead and both hands grasped the steering wheel.
“Nine bodies, right?” she asked.
“So far. Could be more. We haven’t finished yet,” Smithers replied.
“Cause of death?”
“Impossible to say right off.” He shook his head. “They’ve been out here awhile. Some of them were pretty chewed up by animals. There’s a lot of decomposition. There are some gunshot wounds, but other injuries, too. The coroner hasn’t finished the autopsies yet.”
Otto closed her eyes and kneaded the ache between her eyebrows. “No positive IDs on any of them?”
Smithers gave her a quick glance. “You’re thinking one of the bodies we found might be Reacher?”
Kim shrugged but did not reply.
The truth was she knew Reacher hadn’t died here months ago because she had encountered him several times since then. In New York, D.C., Mexico, and other places. Indeed, Reacher had saved her life in Palm Beach just last month. She was sure of it.
No, Reacher wasn’t dead. But he must have been in Laconia at some point. Otherwise, the Boss wouldn’t have sent her here, she assumed.
“You saw the photos. Everything at the motel was burned to cinders. No way to find any fingerprints. But there’s still a lot of forensics to process and we’re fighting the approaching weather.” Smithers paused, thinking for a moment. “You got a sample of Reacher’s DNA for comparison? We’ll get DNA analysis from the bodies soon. If you have a definitive sample, we can rule Reacher in or out.”
Kim shook her head. “No DNA, so far. Reacher left the army before DNA was mandatory and we haven’t found any other personal effects that we could get his DNA from.”
“Okay. What about dental records? Take us a little longer, but we’ll have those, too.” Smithers said.
“Could work,” she replied. “The only dental records we have are old. From Reacher’s army days. But they are distinctive.”
“What do you mean? Distinctive how?”
They’d traveled the narrow lane for more than two miles. Aside from one small patch where the trees did not block the sky for maybe twenty yards, they’d moved in near darkness. The eerie kind of darkness that made you want to talk to another human.
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