Worth Dying For

you going to do something to the house? You want me out of the way?’
    ‘I won’t come near the house. I promise. No one will ever know. Will you do it?’
    ‘I can’t. Seth took my car key. I’m grounded.’
    ‘Is there a spare?’
    ‘He took that too.’
    Reacher said, ‘He’s not carrying them around in his pocket. Not if he keeps his own key in a bowl in the kitchen.’
    Eleanor said nothing.
    Reacher asked, ‘Do you know where they are?’
    ‘Yes. They’re on his desk.’
    ‘On or in?’
    ‘On. Just sitting there. Like a test for me. He says obedience without temptation is meaningless.’
    ‘Why the hell are you still there?’
    ‘Where else could I go?’
    ‘Just take the damn keys, will you? Stand up for yourself.’
    ‘Will this hurt Seth?’
    ‘I don’t know how you want me to answer that question.’
    ‘I want you to answer it honestly.’
    ‘It might hurt him indirectly. And eventually. Possibly.’
    There was a long pause. Then Eleanor said, ‘OK, I’ll do it. I’ll drive south eleven miles on the two-lane and come back again. An hour and ten minutes from now.’
    ‘No,’ Reacher said. ‘An hour and six minutes from now. We’ve just been talking for four minutes.’
    He hung up and stepped back to the main public room. The barman was working like a good barman should, using fast efficient movements, thinking ahead, watching the room. He caught Reacher’s eye and Reacher detoured towards him and the guy said, ‘I should get you to sign a napkin or something. Like a memento. You’re the only guy who ever came in here touse a phone, not avoid one. You want a drink?’
    Reacher scanned what the guy had to offer. Liquor of all kinds, beer on tap, beer in bottles, sodas. No sign of coffee. He said, ‘No thanks, I’m good. I should hit the road.’ He moved on, shuffling sideways between the tables, and he pushed out the door and walked back to his car. He got in, started up, backed out and drove away north.
    Mahmeini’s man saw a glow in the air, far ahead on the left. Neon, green and red and blue. The driver kept his foot down for a minute more, and then he lifted off and coasted. The engine coughed and the exhaust popped and sputtered and the taxi slowed. Way far up the road in the distance were a pair of red tail lights. Very faint and far away. Almost not there at all. The taxi braked. Mahmeini’s man saw the bar. Just a simple wooden building. There were two weak spotlights under the eaves at the front. They threw two pools of token light into the lot. There were plenty of parked vehicles. But no yellow rental.
    The taxi pulled in and stopped. The driver looked back over his shoulder. Mahmeini’s man said, ‘Wait for me.’
    The driver said, ‘How long?’
    ‘A minute.’ Mahmeini’s man got out and stood still. The tail lights in the north had disappeared. Mahmeini’s man watched the darkness where they had been, just for a second. Then he walked to the wooden building’s door. He entered. He saw a large room, with chairs and tables on the left and a bar on the right. There were about twenty customers in the room, mostly men, none of them Asghar Arad Sepehr. There was a barman behind the bar, serving a customer, lining up the next, glancing over at the new arrival. Mahmeini’s man threaded between the tables towards him. He felt that everyone was watching him. A small man, foreign, unshaven, rumpled, and not very clean. The barman’s customer peeled away, holding two foaming glasses of beer. The barman moved on, to the next customer, serving him, but glancing beyond him for the next in line, as if he was planning two moves ahead.
    Mahmeini’s man said, ‘I’m looking for someone.’
    The barman said, ‘I guess we all are, sir. That’s the very essence of human nature, isn’t it? It’s an eternal quest.’
    ‘No, I’m looking for someone I know. A friend of mine.’
    ‘A lady or a gentleman?’
    ‘He looks like me.’
    ‘Then I haven’t seen him. I’m sorry.’
    ‘He has a yellow car.’
    ‘Cars are outside. I’m inside.’
    Mahmeini’s man turned and scanned the room, and thought about the red tail lights in the north, and turned back and asked, ‘Are you sure?’
    The barman said, ‘I don’t want to be rude, sir, but really, if two of you had been in here tonight, someone would have called Homeland Security already. Don’t you think?’
    Mahmeini’s man said nothing.
    ‘Just saying,’ the barman said. ‘This is Nebraska. There are