Running Blind (The Visitor)

That’s fast,” Reacher said.
    “Maybe that’s the guy,” Harper said sleepily. “Maybe he’s heading down to Portland too. Maybe we’ll get him tonight.”
    “I’ve changed my mind,” Reacher said. “I don’t think he drives. I think he flies.”
    But he eased the speed a little higher anyway, to keep the distant taillights in sight.
    “And then what?” Harper said. “He rents a car at the local airport?”
    Reacher nodded in the dark. “That’s my guess. Those tire prints they found? Very standard size. Probably some anonymous midsize midrange sedan the rental companies have millions of.”
    “Risky,” Harper said. “Renting cars leaves a paper trail.”
    Reacher nodded again. “So does buying airplane tickets. But this guy is real organized. I’m sure he’s got cast-iron false ID. Following the paper trail won’t get anybody anywhere.”
    “Well, we’ll do it anyway, I guess. And it means he’s been face-to-face with people at the rental counters. ”
    “Maybe not. Maybe he books ahead and gets express pickup.”
    Harper nodded. “The return guy would see him, though.”
    “Briefly.”
    The road was straight enough to see the fast car a mile ahead. Reacher found himself easing up over ninety, pacing himself behind it.
    “How long does it take to kill a person?” Harper asked.
    “Depends how you do it,” Reacher said.
    “And we don’t know how he’s doing it.”
    “No, we don’t. That’s something we need to figure. But whatever way, he’s pretty calm and careful about it. No mess anywhere, no spilled paint. My guess is it’s got to be twenty, thirty minutes, minimum.”
    Harper nodded and stretched. Reacher caught a breath of her perfume as she moved.
    “So think about Spokane,” she said. “He gets off the plane, picks up the car, drives a half hour to Alison’s place, spends a half hour there, drives a half hour back, and gets the hell out. He wouldn’t hang around, right?”
    “Not near the scene, I guess,” Reacher said.
    “So the rental car could be returned within less than two hours. We should check real short rentals from the airports local to the scenes, see if there’s a pattern.”
    Reacher nodded. “Yes, you should. That’s how you’ll do this thing, regular hard work.”
    Harper moved again. Turned sideways in her seat. “Sometimes you say we and sometimes you say you . You haven’t made up your mind, but you’re softening a little, you know that?”
    “I liked Alison, I guess, what I saw of her.”
    “And?”
    “And I like Rita Scimeca too, what I remember of her. I wouldn’t want anything to happen.”
    Harper craned her head and watched the taillights a mile ahead.
    “So keep that guy in sight,” she said.
    “He flies,” Reacher said. “That’s not the guy.”
    IT WASN’T THE guy. At the far limit of Ritzville he stayed on Route 90, swinging west toward Seattle. Reacher peeled off south onto 395, heading straight for Oregon. The road was still empty, but it was narrower and twistier, so he took some of the urgency out of his pace and let the car settle back to its natural cruise.
    “Tell me about Rita Scimeca,” Harper said.
    Reacher shrugged at the wheel. “She was a little like Alison Lamarr, I guess. Didn’t look the same, but she had the same feel about her. Tough, sporty, capable. Very unfazed by anything, as I recall. She was a second lieutenant. Great record. She blitzed the officer training. ”
    He fell silent. He was picturing Rita Scimeca in his mind, and imagining her standing shoulder to shoulder with Alison Lamarr. Two fine women, as good as any the Army would ever get.
    “So here’s another puzzle,” he said. “How is the guy controlling them?”
    “Controlling?” Harper repeated.
    Reacher nodded. “Think about it. He gets into their houses, and thirty minutes later they’re dead in the tub, naked, not a mark on them. No disturbance, no mess. How is he doing that?”
    “Points a gun, I guess.”
    Reacher shook his head. “Two things wrong with that. If he’s coming in by plane, he doesn’t have a gun. You can’t bring a gun on a plane. You know that, right? You didn’t bring yours.”
    “ If he’s coming in by plane. That’s only a guess right now.”
    “OK, but I was just thinking about Rita Scimeca. She was a real tough cookie. She was raped, which is how she got on this guy’s list, I guess, because three men went to prison and got canned for it. But five guys came to get her that night.