The Sentinel (Jack Reacher #25)(29)

‘Even so. Humour me.’

Officer Rule was silent for a moment. ‘There’s one thing I don’t understand. Why are you going to all this trouble? Why do you care so much about Rusty Rutherford? No one else does. What’s he to you?’

Reacher shrugged. ‘It seems like he was trying his best to do the right thing and got screwed by the people above him. Something similar happened to me once. It doesn’t feel good. And now he’s got a bunch of assholes on his tail for some reason he doesn’t understand and you people are in no hurry to help him. Someone’s got to.’

‘And that someone’s you?’

‘I guess so.’

‘Why is that?’

Reacher shrugged again. ‘I’m the one who’s here.’

‘All right. Listen. I can’t speak in any kind of official capacity, but personally I would peg Rutherford as the kind of guy who lives in an apartment. And if an old friend happened to eat at the diner you went to yesterday and looked directly across the street, he wouldn’t be completely in the wrong part of town.’





NINE





Reacher knew that cell phones could display maps. He’d seen it done. The level of detail was fine for basic navigation, he figured. He’d heard you could factor in real-time traffic information and weather updates, which could be useful if you were driving somewhere. Or hiking. He knew you could call up satellite images, too, if you wanted to see roofs or the tops of trees. But give him the choice and Reacher would always prefer a paper map. The kind he’d trained with at West Point. Large enough and granular enough to reveal the underlying terrain. A critical factor for a soldier. The difference between victory and annihilation. Or between setting a trap and walking into one.

A critical factor for a soldier. Sometimes just as important for a civilian.

Reacher could picture it so clearly. The diner. The apartment building. The coffee shop. A tight triangle. Rutherford’s entire area of operations, aside from his brief excursion to the police station. He’d made it so easy for the people who wanted to take him. If Rutherford strayed outside again, Reacher couldn’t imagine any way he wouldn’t be spotted immediately. And there’d be no one to save him this time.

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?’