Better off Dead (Jack Reacher #26)(18)

    Fenton cleared away the empty pizza box and lifted her case onto the bed. She opened it and took a card and a pen from a pocket in the lid.

“This is the same kind I used before.” She started to write. “I took a bunch, just in case.”

After a minute Fenton put her pen down and showed me the card. There was a picture of a horse on one side. A red roan, I guessed. She’d written her message on the reverse, next to the café’s address. It looked OK to me. I nodded. She put the card down, grabbed her phone, and tapped out a text.

“I said I’ve just been contacted by an angry stranger who asked me to carry a note to someone called Michael. Keep everything crossed.”

The reply came within a minute. “All right,” Fenton said. “That was Dendoncker’s right-hand man. He wants to meet. He wants me to give him the note. We could be in business.”

Fenton stood up and unfolded a jacket from her case. To conceal her gun.

I said, “Where are you meeting?”

“The Border Inn.” She turned to the door. “My other hotel. It’s a regular type place. I’m booked under my real name, but it’s just for show. I never stay there. Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.”



* * *



—

The door closed behind her and the room was suddenly quiet. It felt empty, with just a hint of her perfume to remind me she’d been there. I went back to the couch and lay down. I wanted to play some music in my head. That always helps to pass time. I figured John Primer would fit the bill. He backed Muddy Waters until he died. Then he backed Magic Slim for fourteen years until he died. John’s music is as good as it gets. But try as I might, it wouldn’t come. Because I was worried. About Fenton. That she would be able to sell our scam to Dendoncker’s guy. Or worse, that she wouldn’t be able to sell it. Then they’d kill her. If she was lucky.

    I told myself to snap out of it. Fenton was ex–Military Intelligence. She’d have had extensive training in all kinds of black arts. She could no doubt convince anyone of anything. Only that thought made me more worried. I really knew nothing about her. Only what she’d told me. Which was what she wanted me to know. I got up and started to search the room. I didn’t enjoy it. Even though she had invited me in, the old feeling of being a trespasser came back to me. I always used to feel it when I searched a dead person’s place. I hoped it wasn’t a premonition.

I went through her case. Everything was neatly folded or rolled. She had clothes. Toiletries. Extra ammunition for her Glock. A spare prosthetic foot. A blond wig. Glasses, with plain lenses. A field dressing kit. But nothing that said she’d lied to me. I checked under the mattress. Along the seams of the curtains. Under the couch. And still found nothing. I went to sit back down but stopped myself. The solution was obvious. I should leave. Walk out and never look back. That would leave the plan dead in the water. It needed two people. There was no way Fenton could do it alone.

I took a step toward the door. And stopped again. If Fenton couldn’t get Dendoncker, what would she do? I pictured her with a gun to her head. Again. I didn’t like that image. I didn’t like it at all. So I went back to the couch and waited in silence.



* * *



—

    There was no sound of a key in the lock. Just a subdued click, seventy-two minutes later. Then the door swung open and Fenton appeared.

“I think they bought it.” She checked her phone. “No confirmation yet. But I made progress while I was waiting for the guy. I ordered the fake blood and the other stuff we’ll need. I expedited the shipping. It’ll be here in the morning. I just hope they don’t want to meet tonight.”

I agreed. But that wasn’t all I hoped. We still had two hurdles to clear. I wanted it to stay that way.





Chapter 11


Fenton changed into blue silk pajamas and climbed into the bed. I kept my clothes on and stretched out on the couch. She pulled a mask over her eyes and lay still. But I don’t think she went straight to sleep. Her breathing wasn’t right. It was too fast. Too shallow. Too tense.

I kept my eyes open and stayed awake for hours, too. Something was bothering me. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what, but red warning lights were flashing away deep in my brain. They stopped me from settling. I guess I finally dozed off at around 4:00 a.m. I got woken up again at 7:00. By Fenton, calling my name. She was sitting up in bed. Her mask was pushed up on her forehead. Her hair was disheveled. And she was holding her phone at arm’s length.

“Eleven p.m.” Her voice was husky. “Tonight. They want to meet you. We’ve done it.”

This was not the start to the day I was hoping for. I’d been awake for fifteen seconds and already we were down to only one hurdle.

    I said, “You better reply. Remind them—just you, unarmed, and the deal is cash for information.”

Fenton fiddled with her phone for a moment. A minute later it made a ping sound. “All right. They’ve agreed.”

After another minute Fenton’s phone made a different kind of noise. It was an incoming text. Fenton read it, then held her phone out for me to see. “Hook, line, and sinker. It’s Dendoncker’s deputy. Telling me to stand by for a job tonight.”