Page 27 of The Secret

“Maybe.”

“Definitely. Look at the deaths. No one can prove they weren’t accidents or suicides, but come on. Anyone with a brain can see those scientists were murdered. The whole thing screams KGB. It’s what they do. They even have a term for it.Assassination by purported suicide.They’re sending a message. They’re making clear they can kill anyone, anywhere, anytime, and no one can do anything about it. They’ll pick off the rest of the scientists, one by one,in bizarre, eye-catching ways, then whatever dirt they picked up about the project along the way, they’ll release it. Could be years from now when they do that. Whenever they think it’ll cause the most harm. You have no idea how long a game these guys play.”

—

While Reacher andthe rest of the task force were talking, Roberta and Veronica Sanson were driving. They were in California, south of L.A., right on the coast, in a stolen Jeep Grand Cherokee, and they were going with their new MO. Taking one pass of their target’s house before withdrawing out of range of the watchers and finding somewhere to spend the night. Only this time they spotted two government cars parked in strategic places.

Roberta glanced across at Veronica as she steered down the twisty road that led away from Charlie Adam’s house. “Lights were on. They were home. Which is good.”

Veronica said, “But you saw the cars?”

Roberta nodded.

“Adam was home. And so was his wife.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“What do we do? Wait?”

“No. Waiting multiplies risk.”

“What, then?”

“Make it a murder/suicide this time, I guess.”

—

Reacher ordered steakand had one more beer before switching to coffee. Smith had a salmon salad and three more beers. Neilsen had a burrito stuffed with every available option, three more glasses of champagne, and then switched to whiskey. A lot of whiskey. The conversation came in fits and starts as they ate and drank and waitedon refills. Mostly superficial details about places they’d been posted and hints of highs and lows in their personal lives. Smith and Neilsen revealed more than Reacher. And they both seemed to have had more lows than highs. Reacher began to think that Neilsen had been right about why they’d been selected for the assignment. If things went south and targets were needed to pin the blame on, they all had bull’s-eyes already drawn on their backs. In fluorescent paint.

—

Susan Kasluga wasstanding in her dressing room. She had a clothes hanger in each hand. One held a navy blue suit. One held a black suit. She was trying to choose between them. She always liked to pick the next day’s outfit before she went to bed. She believed it helped to counter decision fatigue. She knew most people scoffed at the concept but she didn’t care. She would do pretty much anything to give herself an edge.

Charles Stamoran appeared in the doorway before she’d reached a verdict. He said, “What are you doing?”

She said, “What does it look like? I can’t go to the office in my pajamas.”

“You shouldn’t go to the office at all. Not for a couple more days.”

“We agreed I’d stay home for two days. I’ve done that. No more.”

“Susie, it’s not safe.”

“You haven’t caught the guy?”

“Not yet.”

“That’s your problem. Not mine.”

“It’ll be a problem for both of us if you get yourself caught by this maniac.”

“He killed more scientists?”

Stamoran nodded. “Geoffrey Brown. Michael Rymer.”

“That’s a shame, I guess. I didn’t know them very well. But he didn’t get Neville Pritchard. So you’re safe. So I’m safe. End of discussion.”

“He could get Pritchard tomorrow. Tonight.”

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