Page 105 of The 9th Man

“Need a roommate?” Luke asked. “This is my idea of home.”

Eckstein chuckled. “I had one until recently, a half shepherd, half husky named Rock. He was fifteen when he passed. I buried him under an aspen out back.”

“I’m sorry,” Jillian said.

The old man headed toward the kitchen.

They followed.

“He had a nice life. I’ve had my eye on a senior, three-legged basset in a Cody shelter. I’m picking her up next week.” He turned. “Do I need to put that on hold?”

“Not if we can help it,” Luke said.

“Why are you talking to us?” Jillian asked. “We’re perfect strangers.”

“Ray Simmons told me that unless he came personally, the person who did come would utter that word. Lancer. So I’m trusting Ray that you people are okay.”

“And the significance?” Luke tried again.

“That was the code name the Secret Service gave to John Kennedy. Nixon was Searchlight. Carter was Deacon. Reagan, Rawhide. Kennedy was Lancer.”

“Ever heard of Kronos?” Luke asked.

Eckstein shook his head. “Should I have?”

He waved off the question. “Not really. Just checking.”

But the lack of that information on Eckstein’s part raised another red flag that he told himself to keep an eye on.

Their host made them hot chocolate and heated some leftover huckleberry pie in the microwave. They settled around the nook table.

“How old are you?” Luke asked.

“Eighty-eight.”

“I hope I have your energy and life when I get that old,” he said.

“Comes from living here, alone, all these years.”

“No wife or spouse?” Jillian asked.

“She died a long time ago. That’s when I bought this land and moved here. Paid for with lottery money. We hit it one time. Not huge, but enough that I could live where and how I pleased. And I’m sorry about Benji. He was good people.”

“Did you meet him?”

“Only by computer.”

“You said earlier that Rowland didn’t know about you.” Jillian said. “How is that possible?”

“Only Benji and Ray connected with me. And only they communicated with Rowland. I don’t own anything that translates into an official record. This house is owned by a trust. My utilities and internet accounts are in the same trust. Nothing traces back to me.”

Which meant they might finally have a little open space to work within.

“But people know you around here?” Jillian asked.

“They do. But not as David Eckstein.”

“That’s a lot of paranoia,” Luke said.

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