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“We have random stuff in the evidence lockers. I borrowed a Vermont driver’s license.”

“With what photo on it?”

“Some woman. A generic face with short dark hair. Looks a bit like me. No one really looks at the photograph. All they do is match the name.”

“So tracking your work phone is the only explanation.”

“Which is what makes it a mess. Clearly my deputy set up an alert and dimed me out when he saw where I was. Palo Alto, the danger area, maybe. Getting too close. Which means the bad apple is at the top of the barrel. My deputy. A guy I personally selected. Which is a disaster. The section won’t survive. I’ll be its first and last CO.”

Chapter 12

Reacher searched the dead guy on Turner’s floor. House keys, wallet, two phones, and a grimy white plastic rectangle the size of a credit card, but with nothing printed on it. A blank. Reacher picked it up and stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He touched the grimy blank to the sensor, and the lock clicked open. He walked back to room twelve, his own, and tried the same thing. The lock clicked open. He walked on down the row to a room he could see was empty. Its lock clicked open.

He walked back to Turner’s room. He held up the plastic rectangle. He said, “This opens all the rooms.”

“A master key,” she said. “Makes sense. GPS and cell tower tracking gets you plus or minus about fifteen feet. Which is a potential span of thirty feet, which is wider than a standard motel room. Therefore competent planning said they needed key cards for rooms nine, ten and eleven. Easier to ask for the master than to carry a whole deck. They could get mixed up.”

“Two masters,” Reacher said. “I’m sure my guy had one.”

“So they asked for two masters. One off the lobby clerk’s belt, one out of a secret drawer somewhere.”

“Let’s go check my guy,” Reacher said.

They moved on to room twelve and Reacher searched the dead guy on his own floor. The same haul. House keys, wallet, two phones, and a grimy plastic rectangle, with nothing printed on it.

Turner said, “I should go check on the clerk in the lobby. He might need medical assistance. Depending on how rough these guys got.”

“Who else would have a master key?”

“Maids and maintenance staff, I guess. But we know these guys went to the desk, because they wanted access to the cameras.”

“Maids and maintenance staff use their keys all the time, right? They’re in and out of rooms all day long. With guests passing by in the corridor at random intervals, saying hello.”

“Maids and maintenance staff don’t control the security system.”

“Tell me about your deputy commander.”

“Why?”

“It might not be him. It might not be any of your people.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“Would you be surprised if it was him?”

“Beyond astonished.”

“Who is he?”

“An O6 colonel named Dexter Elwood. An MP lifer. I’ve known him forever. We were baby lieutenants together. He did a long temporary detachment with counterintelligence command. Couldn’t have been better qualified. I would have begged him if he hadn’t said yes right away.”

“Do you trust your judgment?”

“I always have before.”

“We need to go check something at the desk.”

“Yes, the clerk, like I said five minutes ago.”