Page 50 of The Secret

Reacher shrugged. “What can I say? I have a thirst for knowledge.”

—

Smith tore uptheir list of campgrounds the moment she walked into Reacher’s room.

“That’ll save the police a heap of trouble,” she said. “And Pritchard’s dead, too. What do you make of that?”

“Reminds me of a time when I was a kid and my dad got posted to the Philippines. Our quarters were a bit shabby, I guess, so my mom decided to grow potted plants. Make the place more homey. Except that one kind she liked kept dying. Whatever she tried to keep them alive, it made no difference. Plant after plant wound up shriveled and thrown in the trash. Getting one to survive became an obsession. Eventually she came across a book about horticulture in the base library. She looked in the troubleshooting section. It covered the exact problem she was having. It said the cause was too much water, or too little water.”

“So it’s impossible to say what his death means.”

“Could bring the sky crashing down. Could make no difference at all.”

“What about Walsh springing to life? I didn’t see that coming.”

“I’m glad, actually. I got a call from my brother. He also works at the Treasury Department. Apparently Walsh was just undercover. A long stretch. Another of these counterfeiting cases that keep cropping up. It didn’t end well. Seems he’s suffering from PTSD as a result.”

“I didn’t realize. Poor guy. I thought he was just a lazy asshole. Let’s hope he’s turned a corner. But what about all this money he says Pritchard had? Significant, do you think?”

“Have you ever investigated anyone, found out they had a secret stash of cash, and it turned out not to be significant?”

—

Reacher and Smithstayed at the office until their regular knocking-off time. Ten after five. Neilsen hadn’t come back by then. He wasn’t in reception at the hotel when they passed through at six, and he wasn’t waiting for them at the bar when they claimed their usual table.

Smith took the seat opposite Reacher at their table, leaned forward with her elbows on its wooden top, and said, “You’re not married, are you, Reacher?”

Reacher smiled. “Me? No. You?”

Smith looked away and right then the server appeared at her side.

“Just the two of you today?” she said.

Reacher said, “For now.” He saw a flutter of disappointment cross her face. Her tip was going to be a lot smaller without Neilsen’s bar tab to build on.

“Can I get you started with some drinks?” she said.

They ordered beer, and their food, as they knew the menu down pat by then, and when the server stepped away Smith held up her left hand for Reacher to see.

She said, “No ring.”

Her statement was true, but Reacher felt like he could make out a slight depression around her finger, where one recently could have been.

Smith leaned forward again and said, “Any thoughts for tomorrow? I heard back from my guy who’s checking into the Sansons. The wife moved the family to Israel after Morgan’s suicide. They didn’t fare too well, it seems. One of the boys, Richard, died. A drug overdose. Ryan’s in jail. For dealing. And there’s no trace of Robert or Ronald yet. I told my guy to keep digging.”

Their food arrived and when they were done eating, Reacher said, “What do you make of Susan Kasluga?”

Smith shrugged. “I don’t know much about her. Just a few things I’ve read in the papers.”

The server came by to collect their empty plates, and when she was out of earshot Reacher said, “I keep thinking, Kasluga was in India. She might have known Sanson. She might have information that could help us. Then I remember she’s married to the Secretary of Defense.”

A scowl spread across Smith’s face. “I don’t see how her husband’s job is relevant.”

“He ordered up the task force that ties back to some kind of wrongdoing at a chemical plant. And she worked at the plant. I don’t like coincidences.”

“Sometimes a coincidence is just a coincidence. And anyway, she didn’t work at the secret part of the plant. She was with the civilian company. Mason Chemical. And I read a profile on her once. She didn’t meet Charles Stamoran until ’72. They didn’t get married until ’75. He was a big noise in the CIA back then. Imagine the security clearance she must have gone through. She’s probably the most honest person you could ever meet.”

“Then why did she lie?”

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