Worth Dying For_ A Reacher Novel - Lee Child [67]
The doctor didn’t answer. He just stood there, bruised, sore, shaking, sweating. Jacob Duncan repeated the question: “Where is Reacher now?”
The doctor said, “I would like to sit down.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“A little.”
“At the motel?”
“No,” the doctor said. “I figured Mr. Vincent wouldn’t serve me.”
“So where were you drinking?”
“At home.”
“And then you walked to the motel?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I needed something from my car. Some medical equipment.”
“So you were already drunk when you stole our truck?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t have done it if I was sober.”
“Where is Reacher now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Would you like a drink?”
The doctor said, “A drink?”
“You’re familiar with the concept, I think.”
“Yes, I would like a drink.”
Jacob Duncan got up and stepped across his kitchen to a cabinet on the wall. He opened it up and took out a bottle of Wild Turkey, almost full. From another cabinet he took a glass. He carried both back to the table and set them down. He took stuff off a chair in the corner, a pair of boots, old mail, a ball of string, and he carried the chair across the room and placed it behind the doctor.
He said, “Sit down, please. And help yourself.”
The doctor sat down and shuffled the chair closer to the table and uncorked the bottle. He poured himself a generous measure and drank it all in one go. He poured a second glass.
Jacob Duncan asked, “Where is Reacher now?”
The doctor said, “I don’t know.”
“I think you do. And it’s time to make your choice. You can sit here with us and drink my fine bourbon and pass the time of day in pleasant conversation. Or we could do it another way. We could have Seth break your nose, for instance. I’m pretty certain he would like to. Or we could have your wife join us, and we could subject her to petty humiliations. My guess is she wouldn’t put up much of a fight, having known us all these years. No marks, no overt damage. But the shared experience might have an effect on your marriage, in the years to come, you having shown yourself unable to defend her. Because she’ll see it as unwilling, not unable. You should think about it.”
“Reacher’s gone,” the doctor said.
“Gone?”
“He left this afternoon.”
“How?”
“He got a ride.”
“Impossible,” Jacob said. “We blocked the road, north and south.”
“Not in time.”
“Did you see him go?”
“He was at the motel. I think he changed the plates, because he was going to use your truck. But someone else came along and he hitched a ride, which was better.”
“Who came along?”
“Not one of us. Just someone driving through.”
“What kind of car?”
“I’m not good with cars. I think it was white.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
The doctor drank most of his second glass. Gulp, swallow, gulp, swallow. He said, “He’s going to Virginia.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” the doctor said. He filled his glass again. “But that’s all he’s ever talked about, right from the first moment he got here. He’s on his way to Virginia, and always was.”
“What’s in Virginia?”
“He didn’t say. A woman, perhaps. That’s the impression I got.”
“From what?”
“Just a feeling.”
Jacob Duncan said, “You’re nervous.”
The doctor said, “Of course I am.”
“Why? You’re just sharing a drink with your neighbors.”
The doctor said nothing.
Jacob Duncan said, “You think he’s coming back?”
“I don’t.”
“Is he coming back?”
The doctor said nothing.
“Tell us.”
The doctor said, “He was a military cop. He knows how to do things.”
“What things?”
“He said he’s going to visit with the county police. Tomorrow morning, I suppose. He said he’s going to look at the file from twenty-five years ago. If it’s OK, he’s going to Virginia. If it’s not, he’s coming back here.”
“Why would he?”
“To get you, that’s why.”
Up in Canada, the white van had made the right turn just shy of the town called Medicine Hat, and was heading south on the lonely road that led down toward Pakowki Lake. It was already full dark up there. No lights at all, and no moon or stars either, because of the clouds. The road was bad. It was