Ли Чайлд - The Sentinel

If Rutherford was holed up in his apartment, he might be OK. For a while, at least. Snatching someone off the street is one thing. By its nature a fluid process. Quick. Easy to disguise. Easy to abort if it goes wrong. Extracting someone from inside a building is a different ball game. Particularly if you want to do it covertly. You can’t just smash down the door to someone’s apartment. Too noisy. Someone would hear. A neighbour, or someone working in the building. So some kind of ruse is required. That involves additional planning. Greater resources. Maybe props and costumes. And even if you gain entry, there’s still the problem of getting the target to the street.

If Rutherford was holed up in his apartment.

Reacher thanked Officer Rule then took the stairs from the courthouse basement three at a time and almost knocked over a guy who was hurrying in through the doors. He was slightly built, wearing chinos and a polo shirt. With a logo. To show he meant business.

Rusty Rutherford himself. Not holed up. Not kidnapped. Not yet.

Reacher grabbed Rutherford by the shoulders, spun him around, and bundled him back outside.

‘Let go!’ Rutherford tried to squirm free. ‘What the … what are you doing, Reacher?’

‘It would be better to stay away from the police for a while.’ Reacher released him. ‘I just told them you’re in trouble again. Maybe missing. They might have questions.’

‘I almost was in trouble.’ Rutherford straightened his shirt.

‘What happened?’

‘I came downstairs in my building this morning. Heading for the coffee shop. I got as far as the door but one of my neighbours was on his way in. He’s an older gentleman so I hung back to let him get past and I saw a face I recognized. Across the street. The woman who was driving the car those assholes tried to push me into yesterday.’

‘What did you do?’

‘I freaked out. I totally panicked. I ran to the doorman and screamed at him to get me a cab to the airport. Then I went upstairs to grab some things but I couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t decide what to pack. I knew I had my wallet with my ID and my credit cards so I figured I’d just get away – to anywhere – and buy whatever I needed when I got there. So I went back down and jumped into the cab when it finally came. It took an eternity. Or it felt like it, anyway.’

‘So why are you here now?’

‘I got halfway to Nashville and then I thought, what am I doing? I don’t know how to be on the run. I don’t want to be on the run. I want to stay here. Clear my name. And then I thought about you.’

‘What about me?’

‘You were in jail. For saving my ass. A second time. I couldn’t leave you behind bars so I figured bailing you out was the least I could do.’

‘I appreciate the sentiment, Rusty, but the fight outside the diner wasn’t about you.’

‘Yes it was. Those guys were there to grab me. Holly – the waitress – was sure about that. Which is why she helped me out through the back door into the alley.’

Reacher shook his head. ‘Those idiots were there for me. They thought I was working for the insurance guy who’s negotiating to get the town’s computers back up and running. Holly set it up. Remember the questions she was asking? About who I arrived in town with?’

‘I don’t understand. They think they can make insurance negotiators work faster by roughing them up?’

‘They didn’t want me to work faster,’ Reacher said. ‘They wanted me to back off.’

‘That makes even less sense. Everyone in town wants to get back to normal as fast as possible.’

‘Someone doesn’t. And whatever the reason I think it’s separate from the hot water you’re in. I think we should find out for sure. And I think we should start by getting something to eat.’

‘How will that help?’

‘Always eat when you can. Then you won’t have to when you can’t. And it’s an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. If Holly’s there, anyway. It’s time for her to spill some beans.’

Reacher led the way around the side of the courthouse, and when they reached the parking lot he tossed Marty’s keys to Rutherford. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘You drive.’

Rutherford stopped dead. ‘Wait. Whose car is this? Did you steal it?’

‘It belongs to a guy I met this morning. He loaned it to me. He won’t be needing it for a while.’

‘I don’t know.’ Rutherford stayed still. ‘I have my own car. Why don’t we use it?’

‘This one’s here. Yours isn’t.’

Rutherford touched the handle cautiously like he thought it might electrocute him, then opened the driver’s door and climbed inside. ‘I thought we were going to the diner?’ He scrabbled for the button to move the seat forward. ‘It’s not far. We could walk.’

Reacher shook his head. ‘We can’t leave the car here. We might need it later. And we’re not going directly to the diner. I want you to drive around a little first.’

‘Drive around where?’

‘Anywhere. Show me your old school. Your first girlfriend’s house.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m hoping someone will follow us.’

Rutherford turned right out of the lot and for a few minutes his driving was awkward and jerky, like a nervous teenager trying out for his permit before he was ready. He spent more time looking in the mirror than through the windshield. Twice he clipped the kerb. But after a while he settled and found his way past the house where he’d been born. Then he drove past his grade school. Then the house where an Irish girl named Siobhan had lived, who as a six-year-old he’d hoped to marry until she dumped him for refusing to give up his dream of becoming a race-car driver. Next was the house his family had moved to when he was ten. His high school. And so he continued, threading his way from one neighbourhood to another, some tidy and prosperous, some shabby and depressed, each with some kind of tie to his past. It was like travelling through a bricks and mortar encyclopedia of his life. Each new landmark seemed to relax or rejuvenate him. Each one made Reacher feel more claustrophobic. The idea of spending an entire life in one place made real and solid before his eyes.

The route they took was perfect for Reacher’s purpose. Too convoluted for anyone to follow without giving themselves away. Too random for anyone to anticipate and press on ahead. The only disappointment was that no one tried. Reacher wasn’t inherently impatient. He wasn’t tired of Rutherford’s company or irritated by his commentary. But neither did he wish to prolong his time in the town, so after another minute he told Rutherford to cut short his nostalgia tour and head for the alley next to the diner.

‘Your building’s the one opposite here?’ Reacher said as they climbed out of the car.

Rutherford nodded.

‘The woman you recognized from yesterday. The one who was watching you. Where was she?’

‘I feel stupid now.’ Rutherford hung back. ‘Maybe I only imagined it was her. Maybe I overreacted to this whole thing. I didn’t sleep very well last night and–’

‘No.’ Reacher turned to face him. ‘When your instinct tells you something’s wrong, then something’s wrong. Always listen to your gut. It’s what will save you from getting shoved into the back of some thug’s car.’

‘The woman was pretending to browse in a store window. Diagonally opposite from the entrance to my building. It’s a drug store, basically, but it sells all kinds of fancy things so it calls itself an apothecary. It’s full of candles and soft toys and home décor stuff. And it changes its window display every week. It’s a jungle now. It was a beach last week. Something to do with giraffes the week before.’