Page 35 of Bulletproof Jack: Hunting Lee Child's Jack Reacher

“That’s a handy lock picking device you’ve got there,” Kim teased, scanning for evidence that Westwood expected to return soon. “Is it official issue? I’ll ask Cooper to get me one.”

Russell shrugged. “Modern spy gadgets are not quite as good as James Bond movies, but we do okay.”

She nodded, as a random thought passed through. “Does that one do anything else?”

“Like what?”

“Can it read a key card, for example?” She showed him the key card she’d taken from Lucas’s pocket. “I think Lucas used that to get into my building. But maybe it’s something else.”

Russell took the gray plastic card and examined it. “I might be able to read this. Want me to try?”

“Later. Right now, we need to locate Westwood,” Kim nodded. “He was expecting us, yet he’s not here. Why would he leave? Where did he go?”

“I didn’t see him in the crowds downstairs and I looked,” Russell said.

“He wasn’t there. He’d have stuck out, even in that group,” Kim replied.

Gaspar had sent four official headshots for Ashley Westwood posted by theLA Timesin the paper and on its website. He’d also included some candid photos Westwood posted on social media.

Westwood was an outdoorsy type. He looked and dressed like a naturalist or an explorer.

Short unruly hair. Blond once but going gray. A beard of the same length. Squint lines around his eyes. Maybe fifty-five or so. No younger.

Exactly the kind of guy that would choose Niagara Falls as a meeting spot. Contrary to Lucas, who had the appearance of a man used to less rugged activities. Kim figured Westwood was the man in charge of their little team.

“What makes you think he left voluntarily?” Russell asked, still checking the place out. Opening drawers and doors. Riffling through clothes.

“No reason to think otherwise, is there? I don’t see any evidence of a struggle. Nothing obviously missing,” Kim replied as she examined the suite herself.

She glanced outside the large windows. Darkness was gathering over Horseshoe Falls outside. Spotlights were already trained on the spectacle to please the tourists.

Westwood was a journalist. He was likely to have brought a laptop as well as his cell phone. Maybe more equipment, too.

Would he have taken the laptop with him?

Kim went to check the closets again. Each of the two bedrooms were equipped with a closet. Inside each was an ironing board, iron, extra pillows, and a blanket.

She stood looking from the common room toward the two doorways.

One of the bedrooms had not been used. Perhaps it was meant for Lucas.

Westwood had occupied the other room. His bathroom towels were damp on the floor. The small bars of soap had been unwrapped and used.

His travel bags were stashed in one corner. There was a rolling carry-on and an empty canvas laptop case.

Westwood’s clothes were hanging in the closet. More outdoor wear. High-tech fabrics with many zippers. Old and creased, as if he lived a lot of his life in them.

No shoes. He was probably wearing his travel footwear. Hiking boots, most likely.

Kim swept the clothes aside on the closet pole.

She found what she’d been looking for.

A wall safe. Set into the back wall. The safe was closed and locked.

“Russell?” she called out.

He came into the room. “Yeah?”

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