Child, Lee – Without Fail

little ceremony. Mentioned three room numbers. They were

sequential. Then he scrabbled in his pocket and came out with

the Suburban’s keys. Gave them to Froelich.

‘I’ll ride back with the guy who brought Neagley over,’ he

said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, seven o’clock in the office, with

Bannon, all of you.’

Then he turned and left. Neagley juggled her key card and

her soda and a garment bag and went looking for her room.

Froelich and Reacher followed behind her, with a key card

each. There was another marshal at the head of the bedroom

corridor. He was sitting awkwardly on a plain dining chair. He

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had it tilted back against the wall for comfort. Reacher

squeezed his untidy luggage past him and stopped at his

door. Froelich was already two rooms down, not looking in

his direction.

He went inside and found a compact version of what he

had seen a thousand times before. Just one bed, one chair, a

table, a normal telephone, a smaller TV screen. But the rest

was generic. Floral drapes, already closed. A floral bedspread,

Scotchgarded until it was practically rigid. No-colour bamboo

weave stuff on the walls. A cheap print over the bed, pretending

to be a hand-coloured architectural drawing of some part of

some ancient Greek temple. He stowed his baggage and

arranged his bathroom articles on the shelf above the sink.

Checked his watch. Past midnight. Thanksgiving Day, already.

He took off Joe’s jacket and dropped it on the table. Loosened

his tie and yawned. There was a knock at the door. He opened

up and found Froelich standing there.

‘Come in,’ he said.

‘Just for a minute,’ she said. He walked back and sat on the

end of the bed, to let her take the chair. Her hair was a mess,

like she had just run her fingers through it. She looked good

like that. Younger, and vulnerable, somehow.

‘I am over him,’ she said.

‘OK,’ he said.

‘But I can see how you might think I’m not.’

‘OK,’ he said again.

‘So I think we should be apart tonight. I wouldn’t want you to

be worried about why I was here. If I was here.’

‘Whatever you want,’ he said.

‘It’s just that you’re so like him It’s impossible not to be

reminded. You can see that, can’t you? But you were never a

substitute. I need you to know that.’

‘Still think I got him killed?’

She looked away. ‘Something got him killed,’ she said. ‘Something

on his mind, in his background. Something made him

think he could beat somebody he couldn’t, beat. Something

made him think he was going to be OK when he wasn’t going to

be OK. And the same thing could happen to you. You’re stupid

if you don’t see that.’

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He nodded. Said nothing. She stood up and walked past him.

He caught her perfume as she went by.

‘Call me if you need me,’ he said.

She didn’t reply. He didn’t get up.

A half-hour later there was another knock at the door and

he opened it up expecting to find Froelich again. But it was

Neagley. Still fully dressed, a little tired, but calm.

‘You on your own?’ she asked.

He nodded.

‘Where is she?’ Neagley asked.

‘She left.’

‘Business or lack of pleasure?’

‘Confusion,’ he said. ‘Half the time she wants me to be Joe,

the other half she wants to blame me for getting him killed.’

‘She’s still in love with him.’

‘Evidently.’

‘Six years after their relationship ended.’

‘Is that normal?’

She shrugged. ‘You’re asking me? I guess some people carry

a torch for a long time. He must have been quite a guy.’

‘I didn’t really know him all that well.’

‘Did you get him killed?’

‘Of course not. I was a million miles away. Hadn’t spoken to

him for seven years. I told you that.’

‘So what’s her angle?’

‘She says he was driven to be reckless because he was

comparing himself to me.’

‘And was he?’

‘I doubt it.’

‘You said you felt guilty afterwards. You told me that too,

when we were watching those surveillance tapes.’

‘I think I said I felt angry, not guilty.’