Echo Burning

people before,” he said. “On Friday, up at the crossroads. Must have been after they got Eugene. They must have been scouting the area. Three of them. A woman, a big guy, a small dark guy. I can account for the woman and the big guy. So was it the small dark guy driving tonight?”
    “I didn’t really see.”
    “Gut feeling?” Reacher said. “First impression? You must have gotten a glimpse. Or seen a silhouette.”
    “Didn’t you?”
    He nodded. “He was facing away from me, looking down to where you fired from. There was a lot of glare. Some rain on his windshield. Then I was shooting, and then he took off. But I don’t think he was small.”
    She nodded, too. “Gut feeling, he wasn’t small. Or dark. It was just a blur, but I’d say he was big enough. Maybe fair-haired.”
    “Makes sense,” Reacher said. “They left one of the team behind to guard Ellie.”
    “So who was driving?”
    “Their client. The guy who hired them. That’s my guess. Because they were short-handed, and because they needed local knowledge.”
    “He got away.”
    Reacher smiled. “He can run, but he can’t hide.”

    They went to take a look at the wrecked VW. It was beyond help. Alice didn’t seem too concerned about it. She just shrugged and turned away. Reacher took the maps from the glove compartment and turned the Jeep around and headed north. The drive back to the Red House was a nightmare. Crossing the mesa was O.K. But beyond the end of it the desert track was baked so hard that it wasn’t absorbing any water at all. The rain was flooding all over the surface. The part that had felt like a riverbed was a riverbed. It waspouring with a fast torrent that boiled up over the tires. Mesquite bushes had been torn off their deep taproots and washed out of their shallow toeholds and whole trees were racing south on the swirl. They dammed against the front of the Jeep and rode with it until cross-currents tore them loose. Sinkholes were concealed by the tide. But the rain was easing fast. It was dying back to drizzle. The eye of the storm had blown away to the north.
    They were right next to the motor barn before they saw it. It was in total darkness. Reacher braked hard and swerved around it and saw pale lights flickering behind some of the windows in the house.
    “Candles,” he said.
    “Power must be out,” Alice said. “The lightning must have hit the lines.”
    He braked again and slid in the mud and turned the car so the headlights washed deep into the barn.
    “Recognize anything?” he asked.
    Bobby’s pick-up was back in its place, but it was wet and streaked with mud. Water was dripping out of the load bed and pooling on the ground.
    “O.K.,” Alice said. “So what now?”
    Reacher stared into the mirror. Then he turned his head and watched the road from the north.
    “Somebody’s coming,” he said.
    There was a faint glow of headlights behind them, rising and falling, many miles distant, breaking into a thousand pieces in the raindrops on the Jeep’s windows.
    “Let’s go say howdy to the Greers,” he said.
    He pulled Alice’s gun out of his pocket and checked it. Never assume . But it was O.K. Cocked and locked. Seven left . He put it back in his pocket and drove across the soaking yard to the foot of the porch steps. The rain was almost gone. The ground was beginning to steam. The vapor rose gently and swirled in the headlight beams. They got out into the humidity. The temperature was coming back. So was the insect noise. There was a faint whirring chant all around. It sounded wary and very distant.
    He led her up the porch steps and pushed open the door.The hallway had candles burning in holders placed here and there on all the available horizontal surfaces. They gave a soft orange glow and made the foyer warm and inviting. He ushered Alice through to the parlor. Stepped in behind her. More candles were burning in there. Dozens of them. They were glued to saucers with melted wax. There was a Coleman lantern standing on a credenza against the end wall. It was hissing softly and burning bright.
    Bobby and his mother were sitting together at the red-painted table. Shadows were dancing and flickering all around them. The candlelight was kind to Rusty. It took twenty years off her. She was fully dressed, in jeans and a shirt. Bobby sat beside her, looking at nothing in particular. The tiny flames lit his face and made it mobile.
    “Isn’t this romantic,” Reacher said.
    Rusty moved,