made his eyes look dark. He was tall and thin. Maybe six feet two. Maybe a hundred sixty pounds. But only if he had a dollarâs worth of pennies in his pocket. All skin and bone, and awkward as a stepladder.
The back-door sentry pushed himself off the washing machine and came over to stand close. The guy who had driven the car stepped up from behind.
Scorpio said, âWhat do you want?â
âYou fenced a ring to Jimmy Rat,â Reacher said. âI want to know who fenced it to you.â
âYou got the wrong person altogether. I run a laundromat. I donât know any Jimmy Rat.â
âIs the laundromat doing well?â
âIâm comfortable.â
âAnd modest. Youâre doing better than comfortable. Your cash flow is so big you had to hire two guys to watch over it. Except I donât see how. You got no customers.â
âYou accusing me of something?â
Out the window a pale blue car stopped on the opposite curb. A domestic product. A Chevrolet, possibly. Nothing fancy. A plain specification. In it was a small Asian woman. Black hair, dark eyes. A severe expression. Nakamura. She just sat there, engine off, head turned, watching. A level gaze, over the hood of Scorpioâs parked Lincoln. Her eyes were locked on Reacherâs, through two layers of glass and thirty feet of air.
Reacher turned back to Scorpio and said, âJimmy Rat left you a voicemail, which is why you hired these guys. He told you I was coming. And here I am. Itâs up to you how long I stay.â
Scorpio said, âFirstly I donât know what youâre talking about, and secondly do you know who that is, in the blue car across the street?â
âSheâs a cop. Detective Nakamura.â
âWho harasses me on a regular basis. As you can see. For completely invented reasons. But this time she can make herself useful for once. Youâre trespassing, and she can come remove you herself. My tax dollars at work.â
âYou pay taxes?â
âYou accusing me of something?â
âIâm not trespassing. You invited me here. Kind of insisted.â
âMy point is you can stick your little threats where the sun donât shine. Up to me how long you stay? What are you going to do, with a cop watching?â
âI know her name because we talked. She told me youâre not well liked within the police department.â
âMutual.â
âItâs a code. In plain English it means I could rip your arm off and beat you to death with it, and they wouldnât stop me. Theyâd sell tickets instead.â
âWhat code? You a cop too? From somewhere?â
âYou expecting one? Not me. Iâm just a guy with a question. Tell me the answer, and Iâm gone.â
Scorpio said, âYou never asked how I found you.â
Reacher said, âDidnât need to. I already figured it out. From where your boy showed up. Restaurant staff. You slip them a few bucks. They all talk to each other. They all have cell phones. They text. A nice little network. Underpaid and underappreciated. You put the word out. Based on Jimmy Ratâs voicemail. Watch out for Bigfoot to come out of the forest. Thatâs what Jimmy said, right?â
âI donât know any Jimmy. Which is my point. Iâm going to sit here and deny it all day long. Nothing you can do about it with a cop watching.â
âMaybe sheâll leave.â
âShe wonât. She sits there all day. Weâll be gone before she is. Then what are you going to do? Run after us? Which is my other point. Good luck with your night in town. You wonât get a meal anywhere. You wonât get a drink. You wonât get a bed. I got more than one network running.â
âIâm sure youâre a regular Al Capone,â Reacher said. âExcept you got the worst piece-of-shit car in the world.â
âGet lost. Youâre wasting everyoneâs
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley