17 A Wanted Man

thing has happened before.’
    ‘But facts don’t just go away.’
    ‘We don’t dispute Delfuenso died. Lots of people die every day.’
    ‘How did she die?’
    ‘No one knows. She drove her own car to a neighbouring state. It set on fire. Suicide, maybe. Maybe she took some pills and smoked a last cigarette. And dropped the cigarette. We’ll never know for sure, because the evidence was lost in the fire. The pill bottle, and so on.’
    ‘That’s your boss’s script?’
    ‘It’s a local matter now. Sheriff Goodman will deal with it. Except he won’t, because someone will sit on him too, for sure.’
    ‘What about the missing eyewitness? Is he erased too?’
    Sorenson shrugged at the wheel. ‘A no-account local farm worker, with a history of drinking and a rented house and no stable relationships? People like that wander off all the time. Some of them come back, and some of them don’t.’
    ‘That’s all in the script too?’
    ‘Everything will have a plausible explanation. Not too precise, not too vague.’
    Reacher said, ‘If the case was closed twenty minutes ago, why are you still getting calls? Like just now, from Mother Sill, and your forensics guy?’
    Sorenson paused a beat. She said, ‘Because they both had my cell number. They called me direct. They didn’t go through the field office. They haven’t gotten the memo yet.’
    ‘When will they?’
    ‘Not soon, I hope. Especially my forensics guys. I need to know how King and McQueen kept Delfuenso in the back seat. I mean, would you just sit still for that? They set the car on fire, and you just sit there and take it? Why would you? Why wouldn’t you fight?’
    ‘They shot her first. It’s obvious. She was already dead.’
    ‘That’s what I’m hoping.’
    ‘They may never be able to prove it.’
    ‘All I need is an indication. A balance of probabilities. Which I might get. My people are pretty good.’
    ‘Your boss will recall them, surely.’
    ‘He doesn’t know they’re out and about. And I’m not going to make it a point to tell him.’
    ‘Won’t they check in?’
    ‘Only with me,’ Sorenson said. ‘I’m their primary point of contact.’
    She drove on, another fast mile, with Reacher quiet beside her. The sun was still out behind them. It was casting shadows. The rain clouds were still low in the sky. But they were coming. The far horizon was bright. Reacher said, ‘If there’s no case any more, then the Omaha field office doesn’t need to show anything for its night’s work. Because there was no night’s work. Because nothing happened in Nebraska.’
    Sorenson didn’t answer.
    Reacher said, ‘And if there’s no case any more, who needs a suspect or a material witness? No one did anything and no one saw anything. I mean, how could anyone, if nothing even happened?’
    No response.
    Reacher said, ‘And if there’s no active investigation any more, then there won’t be any new information for you to pass on to me.’
    Sorenson said nothing.
    Reacher asked, ‘So why am I still in this car?’
    No answer.
    Reacher asked, ‘Am I in the script too? A no-account unemployed and homeless veteran? With no stable relationships? Not even a rented house? People like me wander off all the time, right? Which would be very convenient for all concerned. Because I’m the last man alive who can call bullshit on this whole thing. I know what happened. I saw King and McQueen. I saw Delfuenso with them. I know she didn’t drive her own car to a neighbouring state. I know she didn’t take any pills. So are they going to erase me too?’
    Sorenson said nothing.
    Reacher asked, ‘Julia, did you discuss me with your boss while I was in the shower?’
    Sorenson said, ‘Yes, I did.’
    ‘And what are your orders?’
    ‘I still have to bring you in.’
    ‘Why? What’s the plan?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ Sorenson said. ‘I have to bring you to the parking lot. That’s all I was told.’

FORTY-FOUR
    REACHER SPENT A long minute revisiting a variation on an earlier problem: it was technically challenging to take out a driver from the front passenger seat, while that driver was busy doing eighty miles an hour on a public highway. More than challenging. Impossible, almost certainly, even with seat belts and air bags. Too much risk. Too many innocent parties around. People driving to work, old folks dropping in on family.
    Sorenson said, ‘I’m sorry.’
    Reacher said, ‘My mom always told me I shouldn’t put myself