Page 47 of In Too Deep

Reacher moved back into the hallway. He saw that two crates had been moved to a spot near the front door. They were rectangular. Their height and width were of regular proportions but they were exceedingly shallow. Four inches, max. Designed to protect delicate oils or watercolors, no doubt. Then Reacher heard a sound. An angry grunting. It was coming from the living room. The door wasn’t closed all the way. Reacher crept forward and peered through the gap. He couldn’t see anything. He pushed the door open a little wider. A man came into view. He was at the far end of the room, wrestling with a giant version of one of the crates in the hallway.

Reacher said, “Need a hand?”

The guy pushed the crate away. It fell and knocked three others over like massive dominoes. He spun around and opened his mouth but before he could say anything his lips curled into a smile. He stepped forward. It was the guy, Kane. He was maybe an inch taller than Reacher, and definitely heavier. He must have weighed fifty pounds more, at least. Reacher had no doubt about that. But it wasn’t Kane’s height or weight that stood out. It was his eyes. They were like narrow slits, and the part surrounding the pupils seemed more yellow than white. They radiated menace, like a stuffed wolf Reacher had seen in a museum in Germany when he was a kid.

The guy took another step and looked beyond Reacher for a moment, into the hallway. He called, “Darren. Come down here. And bring your fifty bucks.”

Reacher gestured to the crates that lay all around and said, “Short of cash in a place like this? How ironic.”

“It’s a bet, dumbass. The other guy thinks you’re a Fed.”

“And you don’t?”

Kane shook his head. “I think you’re a random asshole who just stuck his nose where it’s not wanted for the last time.”

Reacher’s neck was beginning to tingle. His back was exposed. He knew Fletcher wouldn’t be showing up, but he still hadn’t located Paris. He didn’t want a bullet in the head or a knife in the ribs while he stood listening to Kane’s nonsense. He said, “I’ll take that bet. Turns out you both owe me fifty.” Then he stepped back into the hallway, closed the door behind him, and ducked into the kitchen.

He’d taken a good look at Kane. The guy was heavy, all right. He maybe had a slightly longer reach. But he seemed slow. The way he had been wrestling with the crate indicated a poor temperament. Reacher hadn’t seen anything that worried him, but he didn’t want to get involved in a brawl. Not just then. Not one with the potential to be long and drawn out. Not when there was a second opponent,probably armed, still unaccounted for. Plus he had to be careful with his right arm. And his head. Two of his favorite weapons. So he decided to cut the proceedings short. He stepped across to the island. Grabbed the biggest of the copper fry pans that were hanging from the rack. Moved back to the doorway. Tucked in tight against the wall. And waited.

Kane appeared after another thirty seconds. He took one step into the kitchen and paused, looking around. That put him exactly where Reacher wanted him. He swung the pan backhand, like a tennis player looking to bury match point against his greatest rival. The base caught Kane clean on the temple. He staggered sideways. Reacher came after him. He stepped around and swung the pan back the opposite way. It smashed into the other side of Kane’s head. Kane’s legs turned to jelly. He sank down onto his knees. Reacher whirled the pan around in a giant circle so that it crashed up under Kane’s chin. His head whipped back. His eyes rolled into their sockets. His body collapsed, legs bent under him, and he settled into a solid heap, silent, and still.

—

Reacher secured Kane’sankles and wrists, then searched his pockets. He worked fast but turned up nothing useful. Then he stood and left the kitchen.Three down, one to go,he thought. The question was, where would he find her? He had heard Fletcher and Vidic talking when they came in and failed to realize why the alarm wasn’t set. He’d listened to Fletcher give his briefing. But he hadn’t picked up a woman’s voice the whole time the others had been in the house. And he hadn’t heard an extra set of footsteps moving around anywhere.

Reacher thought about the way Fletcher had deployed his resources. There were three kinds of merchandise. He had three peopleselecting and carrying it. Maybe Fletcher had figured the fourth would bebetter employed as a lookout, or to safeguard their escape route. Reacher made his way along the hallway, shoved Kane’s crates aside,and eased the front door open. He could see three vehicles lined up, side by side in the driveway. Fletcher’s Escalade. Vidic’s Jeep. And Kane’s truck. Paris wasn’t in any of them. She wasn’t near any of them. She wasn’t by the gate. She wasn’t watching from across the street. If the three men had brought their own cars, why hadn’t Paris? Had she gotten a ride with one of the others, for some reason? Or was she not there at all?

Reacher went room by room, starting on the first floor. He checked the kitchen and living room even though he had already been there minutes ago. He tried the dining room. The pantry. The utility room. He looked in the powder room and the study. He stuck his head into the little closet-like room off the hallway. There was no camera equipment in this one. And no sign of Paris.

Reacher climbed the stairs and checked each bedroom in turn. He started at the rear end of each corridor and worked forward, smaller rooms to larger. None were furnished. And none were occupied. He checked the bathrooms. It was the same story. There was no sign of Paris. Nothing to suggest she’d ever been there.

Reacher returned to Vidic’s room and picked his phone up off the floor. He used Vidic’s face to unlock the screen, then dialed Knight’s number from memory. He wasn’t sure of her exact location but knew it would be somewhere close. They had worked out the plan in her car, on the fly. That came after the penny dropped in Reacher’s head about Vidic’s agenda. Foura.m.was a great time to raid a house. Reacher knew that from experience. But he realized it would be a terrible time to burgle one. Especially if you knew for a fact that it would be empty all day long. If someone drove by in the afternoon and saw a movers’ truck outside they would think nothing of it. Butif they passed in the early hours of the morning and saw guys hauling out a bunch of crates and loading them into random SUVs, their imaginations would go into overdrive. That was for sure. Their fingers would be itching to dial 911. Which meant Vidic had lied. Fletcher’s job was happening before the attempt on the safe. Not after. Which had left very little time. Reacher’s rendezvous with Vidic had been set for 2:00p.m.,which meant the break-in must have been scheduled for before then.

Knight had suggested calling the police. It was a natural reflex for a detective. But Reacher had balked at the idea. Vidic had told him on the phone that the police had done nothing about Gibson’s accident, despite his earlier prediction that they’d be all over it. Reacher added their looking the other way to the fact that Fletcher’s crew had been operating in their backyard for years and no one had even taken a sniff, and he didn’t find a reason to have much confidence in the local law enforcement. Instead he called Wallwork. Agents were coming, Wallwork promised. But there was no way they’d arrive in time. So Knight had dropped Reacher at the gate and continued toward the other houses they’d driven by earlier in the day. Her idea was to find a discreet place to wait and, if necessary, block off Kane’s guys if they somehow received an SOS and came racing back to help.

Knight picked up on the first ring. She said, “If this is a sales call, I’m hanging up.”

Reacher said, “It’s me.”

“You have them?”

“I have three of them. I can’t find Paris.”

“How can I help?”

“You can come meet me. Look for places to hide. And if she’s not holed up here, help me figure out where else she could be.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll find her. I’ll be there in five.”

Knight ended the call but Reacher kept the phone to his ear. Hemoved out of Vidic’s room and onto the landing. He raised his voice and said, “Understood. You’re right. That’s a better plan. I’ll be out front in thirty seconds. You can pick me up there.”

Reacher slipped the phone in his pocket in case Knight called back, and made his way down the stairs. He covered the length of the hallway and opened the front door. But he didn’t go through. He stayed where he was and slammed the door closed. Then he stood completely still. He slowed his breathing and didn’t make a sound. He wasn’t optimistic, but he had drawn people out of hiding places that way more than once before.

A minute ticked by in Reacher’s head. Then another. And another. The house remained completely silent. Reacher stayed where he was. Another minute passed and he heard tires crunching on the gravel driveway outside. A car door slammed. Footsteps approached, light and fast. He looked out and saw Knight. He let her in and she said, “Three cars outside? I don’t think Paris is here. But let’s find out for sure. I’m going to need Kane’s phone. Then Vidic’s.”

Reacher led the way to the kitchen. Knight paused for a moment and stared at Kane’s body. She stretched out and held the doorframe for a moment to steady herself. She took a deep breath then looked up at Reacher and said, “I’m sorry. This is the closest I’ve ever got to him. I didn’t think it would hit me this way. What did you do to him?”

Reacher pointed at the dented copper fry pan lying discarded on the countertop.

---