phone and a pager. And there are nine wire hangers on the floor. Like you get from a dry cleaner?"
"Christ," McGrath said again. "Conclusions?"
"They stole the Lexus up in Wilmette," Milosevic said.
"Maybe the dentist guy disturbed them in the act. So he went for them and they overpowered him and put him in the trunk. Burned him along with the rest of the evidence."
"Shit," McGrath said. "But where's Holly? Conclusions on that?"
"They took her to Meigs Field," Milosevic said. "It's about a half-mile away. They put her in a private plane and dumped the car right here. That's what they did, Mack. They flew her out somewhere. Four guys, capable of burning another guy up while he was still alive, they've got her alone somewhere, could be a million miles away from here by now."
Chapter Fifteen
THE WHITE TRUCK droned on, steadily, another hour, maybe sixty more miles. The clock inside Reacher's head ticked around from eleven to twelve noon. The first faint stirrings of worry were building inside him. They had been gone a day. Nearly a full twenty-four hours. Out of the first phase, into the middle phase. No progress. And he was uncomfortable. The air inside the vehicle was about as hot as air could get. They were still lying flat on their backs on the hot mattress, heads together. The horsehair padding was overheating them. Holly's dark hair was damp and spread out. On her left, it was curled against Reacher's bare shoulder.
"Is it because I'm a woman?" she asked. Tense. "Or because I'm younger than you? Or both?"
"Is what because?" he asked back. Wary.
"You think you've got to take care of me," she said. "You're worrying about me, because I'm young and a woman, right? You think I need some older man's help."
Reacher stirred. He didn't really want to move. He wasn't comfortable, but he guessed he was happy enough where he was. In particular, he was happy with the feel of Holly's hair against his shoulder. His life was like that. Whatever happened, there were always some little compensations available.
"Well?" she asked.
"It's not a gender thing, Holly," he said. "Or an age thing. But you do need help, right?"
"And I'm a younger woman and you're an older man," she said. "Therefore obviously you're the one qualified to give it. Couldn't be the other way around, right?"
Reacher shook his head, lying down.
"It's not a gender thing," he said again. "Or an age thing. I'm qualified because I'm qualified, is all. I'm just trying to help you out."
"You're taking stupid risks," she said. "Pushing them and antagonizing them is not the way to do this, for God's sake. You'll get us both killed."
"Bullshit," Reacher said. "They need to see us as people, not cargo."
"Says who?" Holly snapped. "Who suddenly made you the big expert?"
He shrugged at her.
"Let me ask you a question," he said. "If the boot was on the other foot, would you have left me alone in that barn?"
She thought about it.
"Of course I would have," she said.
He smiled. She was probably telling the truth. He liked her for it.
"OK," he said. "Next time you tell me, I'm gone. No argument."
She was quiet for a long moment.
"Good," she said. "You really want to help me out, you do exactly that."
He shrugged. Moved a half-inch closer to her.
"Risky for you," he said. "I get away, they might figure on just wasting you and disappearing."
"I'll take the risk," she said. "That's what I'm paid for."
"So who are they?" he asked her. "And what do they want?"
"No idea," she said.
She said it too quickly. He knew she knew.
"They want you, right?" he said. "Either because they want you personally, or because they want any old FBI agent and you were right there on the spot. How many FBI agents are there?"
"Bureau has twenty-five thousand employees," she said. "Of which ten thousand are agents."
"OK," he said. "So they want you in particular. One out of ten thousand is too big a coincidence. This is not random."
She looked away. He glanced at her.
"Why, Holly?" he asked.
She shrugged and shook her head.
"I don't know," she said.
Too quickly. He glanced at her again. She sounded sure, but there was some big defensive edge there in her reply.
"I don't know," she said again. "All I can figure is maybe they mistook me for somebody else from the office."
Reacher laughed and turned his head toward her. His face touched her hair.
"You're joking, Holly Johnson," he said. "You're not the type of woman gets confused