“Let’s do it anyway,” he said. “We’re halfway there already. She might recall something useful. And I want to see her again. She’s a great kid.”
“I’m sure she is,” Alice said. “But spare yourself, O.K.? Because what are you going to do? Adopt her? She’s the one with the raw end of this deal, so you might as well accept it and forget all about her.”
They didn’t speak again until they arrived at the crossroads with the diner and the school and the gas station. Alice parked exactly where Carmen had and they got out together into the heat.
“I better come with you,” Reacher said. “She knows me. We can bring her out and talk in the car.”
They went through the wire gate into the yard. Then through the main door into the schoolhouse itself, into the school smell. They were out again a minute later. Ellie Greer wasn’t there, and she hadn’t been diere die day before, either.
“Understandable, I guess,” Alice said. “Traumatic time for her.”
Reacher nodded. “So let’s go. It’s only another hour south.”
“Great,” Alice said.
They got back in the VW and drove the next sixty miles of parched emptiness without talking. It took a little less than an hour, because Alice drove faster than Carmen had wanted to. Reacher recognized the landmarks. He saw the old oil field, on the distant horizon off to the left. Greer Three.
“It’s corning up,” he said.
Alice slowed. The red-painted picket fence replaced the wire and the gate swam into view through the haze. Alice braked and turned in under it. The small car bounced uncomfortably across the yard. She stopped it close to the bottom of the familiar porch steps and turned off the motor. The whole place was silent. No activity. But people were home, because all the cars were lined up in the vehicle barn. The white Cadillac was there, and the Jeep Cherokee, and the new pick-up, and the old pick-up. They were all crouched there in the shadows.
They got out of the car and stood for a second behind the open doors, like they offered protection from something. The air was very still, and hotter than ever. Easily a hundred and ten degrees, maybe more. He led her up the porch steps into the shadow of the roof and knocked on the door. It opened almost immediately. Rusty Greer was standing there. She was holding a .22 rifle, one-handed. She stayed silent for a long moment, just looking him over. Then she spoke.
“It’s you,” she said. “I thought it might be Bobby.”
“You lost him?” Reacher said.
Rusty shrugged. “He went out. He isn’t back yet.”
Reacher glanced back at the motor barn.
“All the cars are here,” he said.
“Somebody picked him up,” Rusty said. “I was upstairs. Didn’t see them. Just heard them.”
Reacher said nothing.
“Anyway,” Rusty said. “I didn’t expect to see you again, ever.”
“This is Carmen’s lawyer,” Reacher said.
Rusty turned and glanced at Alice. “This is the best she could do?”
“We need to see Ellie.”
“What for?”
“We’re interviewing witnesses.”
“A child can’t be a witness.”
“I’ll decide that,” Alice said.
Rusty just smiled at her.
“Ellie’s not here,” she said.
“Well, where is she?” Reacher said. “She’s not in school.”
Rusty said nothing.
“Mrs. Greer, we need to know where Ellie is,” Alice said.
Rusty smiled again. “I don’t know where she is, lawyer girl.”
“Why not?” Alice asked.
“Because Family Services took her, that’s why not.”
“When?”
“This morning. They came for her.”
“And you let them take her?” Reacher said.
“Why wouldn’t I? I don’t want her. Now that Sloop is gone.”
Reacher stared at her. “But she’s your granddaughter.”
Rusty made a dismissive gesture. The rifle moved in her hand.
“That’s a fact I was never thrilled about,” she said.
“Where did they take her?”
“An orphanage, I guess,” Rusty said. “And then she’ll get adopted, if anybody wants her. Which they probably won’t. I understand half-breeds are very difficult to place. Decent folk generally don’t want beaner trash.”
There was silence. Just the tiny sounds of dry earth baking in the heat.
“I hope you get a tumor,” Reacher said.