Then there were people in the corridor outside and the door opened and the sentries stepped out and Jodie walked in. She blazed against the gray walls. She was wearing a pastel peach dress with a wool coat over it, a couple of shades darker. Her hair was still lightened from the summer sun. Her eyes were bright blue, and her skin was the color of honey. It was the middle of the night, and she looked as fresh as morning.
“Hey, Readier,” she said.
He nodded and said nothing. He could see worry in her face. She stepped close and bent down and kissed him on the lips. She smelled like a flower.
“You talk to them?” he asked her.
“I’m not the right person to deal with this,” she said. “Financial law, yes, but criminal law, I’ve got no idea.”
She waited in front of his chair, tall and slim, head cocked to one side, all her weight on one foot. Every new time he saw her, she looked more beautiful. He stood up and stretched, wearily.
“There’s nothing to deal with,” he said.
She shook her head. “Yes, there damn well is.”
“I didn’t kill any women.”
She stared at him. “Of course you didn’t. I know that. And they know that, or they’d have put you in handcuffs and leg irons and taken you straight down to Quantico, not dumped you in here. This must be about the other thing. They saw you do that. You put two guys in the hospital, with them watching.”
“It’s not about that. They reacted too fast. This was set up before I even did the other thing. And they don’t care about the other thing. I’m not working the rackets. That’s all Cozo’s interested in, organized crime.”
42
I* cm
She nodded. “Cozo’s happy. Maybe more than happy. He’s got two punks off the street, no cost to himself. But it’s turned into a catch-22, don’t you see that? To convince Cozo, you had to make yourself out as a vigilante loner, and the more you made yourself out as a vigilante loner, the more you pushed yourself into this profile from Quantico. So whatever reason they brought you in for, you’re starting to confuse them.”
“The profile is bullshit.”
“They don’t think so.”
“It has to be bullshit. It came up with me.”
She shook her head. “No, it came up with somebody like you.”
“Whatever, I should just walk out of here.”
“You can’t do that. You’re in big trouble. Whatever else, they saw you beat on those guys, Reacher. FBI agents, on duty, for Christ’s sake.”
“Those guys deserved it.”
“Why?”
“Because they were picking on somebody who didn’t need picking on.”
“See? Now you’re making their case for them. A vigilante, with his own code.”
He shrugged and looked away.
“I’m not the right person for this,” she said again. “I don’t do criminal law. You need a better lawyer.”
“I don’t need any lawyer,” he said.
“Yes, Reacher, you need a lawyer. That’s for damn sure. This is for real. This is the FBI, for God’s sake.”
He was silent for a long moment.
“You have to take this seriously,” she said.
“I can’t,” he said. “It’s bullshit. I didn’t kill any women.”
“But you made yourself fit the profile. And now proving them wrong is going to be tough. Proving a negative always is. So you need a proper lawyer.”
“They said I’m damaging your career. They said I’m not an ideal corporate husband.”
“Well, that’s bullshit too. And even if it was true, I wouldn’t care. I’m not saying get a different lawyer for my sake. I’m saying it for yours.”
“I don’t want any lawyer.”
“So why did you call me?”
He smiled. “I thought you might cheer me up.”
She stepped into his arms and stretched up and kissed him, hard.
fuMUM (filing 43
“I love you, Readier,” she said. “I really do, you know that, right? But you need a better lawyer. I don’t even understand what this is about.”
There was a long silence. Just ventilation flutter above their heads, the faint noise of air against metal, the quiet sound of time passing. He listened to it.