‘Two main problems,’ Bramall said. ‘I mean, OK, this was amazing work, no question. This was a definite KIA in Vietnam, and probably any other time in history, until the last few years. It was a virtuoso performance by the doctors. But great as it was, it was actually pretty lousy. It just can’t be done. She was left with scars like a jigsaw puzzle. Nothing fits right. Nothing works right. She looks like a horror movie. And that’s the good news.’
‘What’s the bad news?’
‘The concealed explosive device was concealed in a dead dog. That’s something they do out there. This one was maybe four days old. Getting ripe. The weather was hot. The blast drove rotting tissue and necrotic pathogens and all kinds of bad bacteria deep under the skin of her head. This all was four years ago, and she still can’t get rid of the infection. She leaks pus. She looks like a monster twice over. She’s in pain all the time.’
Reacher was quiet a long moment.
Then he said, ‘No wonder she didn’t tell her sister.’
‘It’s a subject they plan to discuss.’
‘Why did she stop calling a year and a half ago?’
‘They haven’t gotten to that yet. But something to do with Porterfield, surely. What else could it be?’
Reacher got out of the car again. He wanted the air. He walked back to the edge of the ravine, and watched the distant view. It was like looking out through a narrow window. Behind him the house was cradled by wooded hills. He wondered who it belonged to.
He walked back to the crew-cab truck. All the windows were down. The three guys inside were laying back. Patient. Saving energy. They knew it was all going to take as long as it took. Maybe a cowboy thing.
The guy in the boots looked up.
Reacher said, ‘You told me you were being nice about it. I agree. You’re being very nice about the whole thing. That should be placed in the record.’
The guy moved his head, as if accepting the compliment.
Reacher said, ‘How did it start?’
‘We needed a place to live. We stumbled on this compound. Rose had already claimed it. But she let us stay. She helped us settle in. We helped her with a couple of things. We got kind of protective, I guess. She doesn’t like people to see her.’
‘How long ago was this?’
‘Three years. Rose was just out of the army. She was just moving in.’
‘Who owns this place?’
‘Someone who hasn’t cared to visit in three years at least.’
‘You must have known Sy Porterfield.’
‘I guess we met him a bunch of times.’
‘What did you make of the story with the bear?’
‘I guess we thought it was what anyone would do.’
‘What did Porterfield do for a living?’
‘We never enquired. All we knew is he seemed to make her happy.’
‘She’s high as a kite right now.’
‘Do you blame her?’
‘Not one little bit. But I worry about her supplies holding up.’
‘We can’t discuss that with you. We don’t know who you are.’
‘I’m with her sister.’
‘Not really. The other guy is the detective she hired. No one understands who you are.’
‘I’m not a cop,’ Reacher said. ‘That’s all that matters. I don’t care about that stuff. But she could have a problem, now Billy is gone. That’s all I’m thinking.’
‘You know who Billy was?’
‘Snowplough driver. Especially good in powdery conditions.’
‘You were a cop back in the day.’
‘Everyone was something back in the day. I’m sure you can walk past a cow without feeling the need to drive it to the rail-head. Billy ain’t coming back. I hope Rose will be OK. That’s all I’m saying.’
The guy said, ‘They already got a replacement for Billy. He was by here this morning. His name is Stackley. Seemed like a nice enough guy. Reminded me of a cousin I got in insurance. So all is right with the world again. It’s back to business as usual.’
Reacher said, ‘What is she buying?’
‘Oxy and fentanyl patches.’
‘We talked to a guy who said that’s a thing of the past.’
‘It’s getting expensive.’
‘He said it should be getting impossible. Where is it coming from?’
‘It’s the regular stuff. Same as always. In the white boxes, with the brand names. Made in America, right out the factory door. You get to where you can tell the difference.’
‘You guys like it too?’
‘A little bit, now and then. To take the edge off, time to time.’
‘I heard that kind of thing was hard to get now. Maybe I was misinformed.’
‘You weren’t,’ the guy said. ‘Matter of fact it is hard to get now. Most places very hard. But not here. Which gives you all a big problem. I don’t know what your plans are now, but you need to get one thing straight from the get-go. Rose won’t move from here. Not an inch, not in a million years. How could she? She’s hooked up here. You don’t know what that means to a person. Look at it from her point of view.’
THIRTY-FOUR
THE MAGIC HOUR was the last part of the sun’s daily travel, like a sixty-minute farewell performance, when it was low in the sky, shining sideways through the atmosphere, which reddened its colours and lengthened its shadows. Reacher sat on the porch step and watched the tawny plain go gold, then ochre, then chili-pepper red. Bramall was below him, on a rock at the edge of the ravine. The guys from the crew-cab were sitting in the dirt, leaning their backs on trees.
The door opened and Mackenzie stepped out.
Reacher stood up, and she came down the steps past him, on to the path through the scrub. Meanwhile the guys from the crew-cab all got up and dusted themselves off. Mackenzie met them at the end of the path. She shook their hands, one by one, and thanked them for caring about her sister.
Then she said to Bramall, ‘Back to the hotel.’
Mackenzie felt weird, she said, leaving her sister where she was, but Rose would have it no other way. She liked it there, she said, and she had everything she needed. She refused to leave, categorically, even for one night, even to see a doctor. She refused even to consider going to the hospital, or the Veterans’ Administration, or looking at a clinic, or a rehab centre, or living in Lake Forest, Illinois.
‘Give her time,’ Bramall said.
They made the turn at the old Mule Crossing post office, and drove back to Laramie on the two-lane. They ate in town, and drove back out to the hotel, where Bramall parked and said goodnight. Reacher stayed out in the lot again. The night sky was still there. Still huge and black and dusted with millions of bright stars. Microscopically changed, he supposed, since the night before. But not because of his tiny dramas. It was completely indifferent.
Mackenzie came out and sat down on the bench.
He sat down beside her.
She said, ‘She’s only halfway addicted.’
He said, ‘I had a brother. Not a twin, but we were close growing up. Now I’m asking myself, if this was him, what would I want from people? Something polite, or something uncomfortable? I’m not making a point here. I really don’t know. Help me out.’
‘I want the truth,’ she said.
‘She looked a lot more than halfway addicted to me.’
‘I meant her reasons. She’s in pain. Partly she needs it. She’s not doing it just for fun.’
‘What’s with the aluminium foil?’
‘The infection. She scrounges up antibiotics if she can, and grinds them down, and mixes them with antiseptic salve from the first-aid aisle. She spreads it on the foil like butter. If she can spare one, she mixes in an oxycodone pill.’