‘You’re not even a pretty face,’ she said back. ‘Don’t flatter yourself. When do you start?’
He looked around in the darkness.
‘Right now, I guess. Certain to be an early flight out of Miami.’
She smiled again. This time, warily.
‘And how are you going to get to Miami?’ she asked. ‘This time of night?’
He smiled back at her. Confidently.
‘You’re going to drive me,’ he said.
‘Do I have time to get dressed?’
‘Just shoes,’ he said.
He walked her around to the garage where her old Porsche was hidden. He rolled the door open and she slid into the car and fired it up. She drove him the half-mile north to his motel, taking it slowly, waiting until the oil warmed through. The big tyres banged on broken pavement and thumped into potholes. She eased to a stop opposite his neon lobby and waited, the motor running fast against the choke. He opened his door, and then he closed it again, gently.
‘Let’s just go,’ he said. ‘Nothing in there I want to take with me.’
She nodded in the glow from the dash.
‘OK, buckle up,’ she said.
She snicked it into first and took off through the town. Cruised up North Roosevelt Drive. Checked the gauges and hung a left on to the causeway. Switched on the radar detectors. Mashed the pedal into the carpet and the rear end dug in hard. Reacher was pressed backward into the leather like he was leaving Key West on board a fighter plane.
She kept the Porsche above three figures all the way north to Key Largo. Reacher was enjoying the ride. She was a great driver. Smooth, economical in her movements, flicking up and down the box, keeping the motor wailing, keeping the tiny car in the centre of her lane, using the cornering forces to catapult herself out into the straightaways. She was smiling, her flawless face illuminated by the red dials. Not an easy car to drive fast. The heavy motor is slung out way behind the rear axle, ready to swing like a vicious pendulum, ready to trap the driver who gets it wrong for longer than a split second. But she was getting it right. Mile for mile, she was covering the ground as fast as a light plane.
Then the radar detectors started screaming and the lights of Key Largo appeared a mile ahead. She braked hard and rumbled through the town, and floored it again and blasted north towards the dark horizon. A tight curving left, over the bridge, on to the mainland of America, and north towards the town called Homestead on a flat straight road cut through
the swamp. Then a tight right on to the highway, high speed all the way, radar detectors on maximum, and they were at Miami departures just before five o’clock in the morning. She eased to a stop in the drop off lane and waited, motor running.
‘Well, thanks for the ride,’ Reacher said to her.
She smiled.
‘Pleasure,’ she said. ‘Believe me.’
He opened the door and sat there, staring forward.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘See you later, I guess.’
She shook her head.
‘No you won’t,’ she said. ‘Guys like you never come back. You leave, and you don’t come back.’
He sat in the warmth of her car. The motor popped and burbled. The mufflers ticked as they cooled. She leaned towards him. Dipped the clutch and shoved the gearshift into first so that she had room to get close. Threaded an arm behind his head and kissed him hard on the lips.
‘Goodbye, Reacher,’ she said. ‘I’m glad I got to know your name, at least.’
He kissed her back, hard and long.
‘So what’s your name?’ he asked.
‘Crystal,’ she said, and laughed.
He laughed with her and lifted himself up and out of the car. She leaned across and pulled the door behind him. Gunned the motor and drove away. He stood by himself on the kerb and watched her go. She turned in front of a hotel bus and was lost to sight. Three months of his life disappeared with her like the haze of her exhaust.