thanks for the book. It got here eventually. I will treasure it
always. I might even read it. But probably not soon, because
things are getting pretty, busy here. I’m thinking of jumping ship
and going to Treasury. Somebody (you’d recognize the name)
offered me a job, and
That was it. It ended abruptly, halfway down the page. He laid
it unfolded next to the shoes. Put all three books back in the
box. He looked at the shoes and the letter and listened hard
244
inside his head the way a whale listens for another whale across
a thousand miles of freezing ocean. But he heard nothing.
There was nothing there. Nothing at all. So he crammed the
shoes back into the box and folded the letter and tossed it in on
top. Closed the flaps again and carried the box across the room
and balanced it on top of the trash can. Turned back to the bed
and heard another knock at the door.
It was Froelich. She was wearing her suit pants and jacket.
No shirt under the jacket. Probably nothing at all under the
jacket. He guessed she had dressed quickly because she knew
she had to walk near the marshal in the corridor.
‘You’re still up,’ she said.
‘Come in,’ he said.
She stepped into the room and waited until he closed the
door.
‘I’m not angry at you,’ she said. ‘You didn’t get Joe killed. I
don’t really think that. And I’m not angry at Joe for getting
killed. That just happened.’
‘You’re angry at something,’ he said.
‘I’m angry at him for leaving me,’ she said.
He moved back into the room and sat on the end of the bed.
This time, she sat right next to him.
‘I’m over him,’ she said. ‘Completely. I promise you. I have
been for a long time. But I’m not over how he just walked out
on me.’
Reacher said nothing.
‘And therefore I’m angry at myself’ she said, quietly. ‘Because
I wished him harm. Inside of me. I so wanted him to crash and
burn afterwards. And then he did. So I feel terribly guilty. And
now I’m worried that you’re judging me.’
Reacher paused a beat.
‘Nothing to judge,’ he said. ‘Nothing to feel guilty about,
either. Whatever you wished was understandable, and it had no
influence on what happened. How could it?’
She was silent.
‘He got in over his head,’ Reacher said. hat’s all. He took a
chance and got unlucky. You didn’t cause it. I didn’t cause it. It
just happened.’
I’hings happen for a reason.’
245
He shook his head. ‘No, they don’t,’ he said. ‘They really
don’t. They just happen. It wasn’t your fault. You’re not responsible.’
‘You think?’
‘You’re not responsible,’ he said again. ‘Nobody’s responsible.
Except the guy who pulled the trigger.’
‘I wished him harm,’ she said. ‘I need you to forgive me.’
‘Nothing to forgive.’
‘I need you to say the words.’
‘I can’t,’ Reacher said. ‘And I won’t. You don’t need forgiving.
It wasn’t your fault. Or mine. Or Joe’s, even. It just happened.
Like things do.’
She was quiet for a long moment. Then she nodded, just
slightly, and moved a little closer to him.
‘OK,’ she said.
‘Are you wearing anything under that suit?’ he asked.
‘You knew I had a gun in the kitchen.’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Why did you search my house?’
‘Because I’ve got the gene that Joe didn’t have. Things
don’t happen to me. I don’t get unlucky. You carrying a gun
now?’
‘No, I’m not,’ she said.
There was silence.
‘And there’s nothing under the suit,’ she said.
‘I need to confirm those things for myself,’ he said. ‘It’s a
caution thing. Purely genetic, you understand.’
He undid the first button on her jacket. Then the second.
Slipped his hand inside. Her skin was warm and smooth.
They got a wake-up call from the motel desk at six o’clock in the
morning. Stuyvesant must have arranged it last night, Reacher
thought. I wish he’d forgotten. Froelich stirred at his side. Then
her eyes snapped open and she sat up, wide awake.
‘Happy Thanksgiving,’ he said.
‘I hope it will be,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a feeling about today. I