“Hannah Hampton-Roth.”
“ID?”
“In my purse. OK if I get it?”
“Go ahead.”
Hannah took her purse from the backseat, rummaged in it for a moment, and pulled out her wallet. She opened it, then passed her driver’s license to the cop.
The cop studied the license for a moment then said, “Registration? Insurance?”
Hannah leaned across to the passenger side, opened the glove box, and took out a clear plastic pocket. The documents were inside. She straightened and handed it out of the window.
The cop said, “Wait here.” Then he walked back to his car.
Hannah stretched for the keys to switch the engine off but Reacher took her hand.
He said, “Leave it running. If the cop has his gun drawn when he gets back out, floor it. Same applies if another police cruiser shows up. Or anything that could be an unmarked car.”
—
The cop stayedin his car for five long minutes then returned to Hannah’s window. His gun was still in its holster. He handed the documents and the license back and said, “You’re a long way from home, miss. What brings you to Winson?”
Hannah tucked the license back into her wallet and handed the plastic pocket to Reacher. “My ex-husband has—had—friends here. I need to let them know that Sam has passed. That’s better done in person than on the phone or email, don’t you think?”
“Who were his friends?”
“Angela St. Vrain. Danny Peel. They worked with Sam before Angela and Danny moved out here.”
“Will you be staying with one of them tonight?”
“No. We’ll go to a hotel.”
“Which one?”
“We’re—”
“Still working on that,” Reacher said.
The cop said, “You didn’t think to make a reservation before you left Colorado?”
Reacher said, “No.”
“What if you’d come all this way and the hotels were all full?”
“Is that a common problem here?”
The cop was silent for a moment then he nodded toward the rear of the truck. “What happened to your window?”
Hannah sighed. “Some asshole kids tried to break in.”
“When?”
“Earlier this afternoon. At the rest area, on I-20.”
“Kids did this?”
“That’s right.”