Page 62 of In Too Deep

“I can’t imagine. Probably some boring finance thing.”

—

Reacher retrieved Knight’sphone from the passenger door pocket in the Tennis Club van and used it to call Wallwork. He wrapped up his summary and said, “So unless you know where I can get ribbonaround here, to tie a bow around everything for your agents, this is me signing off.”

Wallwork said, “Good. Go. The agents are only a half hour out now. Maybe less. And if I’ve learned anything it’s that the more daylight there is between you and the Bureau, the better I sleep.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. And, Reacher?”

Reacher didn’t respond.

“Lose my number. Don’t call me anymore. I mean it.”

“Until next time, Wallwork.”

“There won’t be any next time.”

“Then let me ask you one last thing. Have you heard of a company called Cone Dynamics?”

“No. Why?”

“It’s Paris’s next hacking victim. I don’t know anything about them. She stole a report. Apparently it’s worth a fortune. And that makes me curious. How could one document be so valuable?”

—

Reacher checked thevan’s doors one last time then climbed into the Land Rover’s passenger seat. Knight was already in the vehicle, waiting for him behind the wheel. She started the engine and took off slowly, threading her way through the gap between the spoil heap and the wrecked Ford. She picked up speed once they reached the smoother road and drove the rest of the way to the Russians’ house in silence. Reacher watched her out of the corner of his eye. The expressions on her face kept changing. She looked angry one moment. Then sad. Then scared.

Knight left the Land Rover on the street to save having to maneuver it into the space Kane’s truck had been in. She finally smiledwhen she saw her old Toyota. Reacher jumped down, made his way through the gate, and climbed in. Knight followed but diverted to the car’s trunk. She popped the lid, leaned in, then a moment later straightened up and started for the house’s front door. Reacher saw that she had something in her hand. A gun. It was the Sig he had taken from Fletcher and later stowed in her lockbox.

Knight worked the keypad and pulled the handle. Reacher went after her. He caught the door before it closed and followed her into the hallway. She kept going straight. All the way to the kitchen door. She paused outside it long enough for Reacher to catch up. She took hold of the handle, turned to him, and said, “Give me a minute?”

Reacher said, “Whatever you need. But are you sure about this? Some things can’t be undone.”

“Am I sure? When did you become a comedian?”

—

Kane was conscious.He had rolled over and pushed himself up into a sitting position then shuffled back until he could lean against the wall. His phone and wallet were lying next to him on the floor.

Kane’s head snapped around toward the door. “What…Who the hell are you?”

A smile crossed Knight’s face, but it was full of sadness, not humor. She said, “Who am I? You don’t know me. For weeks I’ve dreamed of finding you. Making sure you know my name. I’ve pictured dozens of scenarios. Hundreds. None like this, though. In my dreams any time you’d been dumped on your ass and tied up, it was me who’d done it.”

“Did I knock you up? Sleep with your sister on prom night? You’re pissed about something. I can see that.”

She took a step closer. “I’m Jenny Knight.”

Kane glanced at the gun in her hand. “You say that like it should mean something to me.”

“My father was Dennis Knight.”

“Are you going to run through your whole family tree? Because I can save you the trouble. I don’t care who you are. I don’t care about your relatives.”

“Dennis Knight. My father. You killed him.”

Kane shrugged. “If you say so.”

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