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“What time in the morning?”
“Whenever you like.”
“General Turner’s people check in about nine. Give me time for a shower. Say ten o’clock?”
“Deal,” he said. “Let me walk you back.”
He turned and fell in beside her. They walked half a block south in silence. He wondered if he should offer to push the stroller. Then up ahead he saw the same town car roll through the next intersection. In the opposite direction. Old, worn out, dull paint. Dark windows.
Driving a square.
“Mrs. Bisley,” he said.
“Call me Julia.”
“This is going to sound very weird, but we need to turn around and walk back to my car.”
“What?”
“I’ll tell you why on the way.”
“What’s going on?” she said. “Who are you exactly?”
“Call General Turner. Through the Pentagon switchboard, if you like, so you know it’s real. But let’s walk as you do it.”
“This is something bad, isn’t it?”
“G-99 is hardcore law enforcement. No one sees us unless it’s bad.”
She stood still a long moment. Then she turned the stroller around and started pushing it back the way they had come. Reacher said, “Your husband was a smart guy and an excellent investigator, and he turned over a big rock somewhere. When that happens, all kinds of creatures come crawling out. Better that you’re not at home tonight.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Am I in danger?”
“We should err on the side of caution. I saw a car I didn’t like.”
“You sound like a bodyguard.”
“Pretend I am.”
“Why would anyone come after me?”
“We’ll talk about that later. Call Susan Turner first.”
They made it back to the Dodge. Reacher opened the front passenger door as wide as it would go. It hung way out over the sidewalk. He said, “You sit in the seat with the stroller facing backward on the sidewalk next to you, in the V behind the door. If I tell you, first you grab Amanda out of the stroller, and then I drive away and we leave the stroller behind on the sidewalk. Then you close the door. You OK with all that?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really,” he said. “Call Turner.”
She tried, but Turner’s phone was off. Too early for the meeting to have started. Probably in a secure file room somewhere, where phones were not allowed. Maybe she had the agenda by then and was doing her research.
Reacher said, “OK, now I need to make a call of my own. I don’t want you to listen to it. But if you can’t help hearing it, I want you to disregard every word I say. Think of it as a negotiating position. An attempt to stop tonight’s problems before they start.”
He dug out the burner he had taken from the guy in the airport bathroom. He looked at the list of contacts. The lone name at the bottom. He dialed the number.
