and I don't have any money. There are pro-bono people who do it for free, but they're always very busy. It's a mess. A big, complicated mess."
"I guess it is," he said.
"But it should be possible in a year," she said. "A year's a long time, right?"
"So?"
"So I need you to forgive me for wasting the first year and a half. I need you to understand why. It was all so daunting, I kept putting it off. I was safe. I said to myself, plenty of time to go. You just agreed, twelve months is plenty of time for anything. So even if I was starting cold, right now, I could be excused for that, right? Nobody could say I'd left it too late, could they?"
There was a polite beep from somewhere deep inside the dashboard. A little orange light started flashing in the stylized shape of a gas pump, right next to the speedometer.
"Low fuel," she said.
"There's Exxon up ahead," he said. "I saw a billboard. Maybe fifteen miles."
"I need Mobil," she said. "There's a card for Mobil in the glove box. I don't have any way of paying at Exxon."
"You don't even have money for gas?"
She shook her head. "I ran out. Now I'm charging it all to my mother-in-law's Mobil account. She won't get the bill for a month."
She steered one-handed and groped behind her for her pocketbook. Dragged it forward and dumped it on his lap.
"Check it out," she said.
He sat there, with the bag on his knees.
"I can't be poking through a lady's pocketbook," he said.
"I want you to," she said. "I need you to understand."
He paused a beat and snapped it open and a soft aroma came up at him. Perfume and makeup. There was a hairbrush, tangled with long black hairs. A nail clipper. And a thin wallet.
"Check it out," she said again.
There was a worn dollar bill in the money section. That was all. A solitary buck. No credit cards. A Texas driver's license, with a startled picture of her on it. There was a plastic window with a photograph of a little girl behind it. She was slightly chubby, with perfect pink skin. Shiny blond hair and bright lively eyes. A radiant smile filled with tiny square teeth.
"Ellie," she said.
"She's very cute."
"She is, isn't she?"
"Where did you sleep last night?"
"In the car," she said. "Motels are forty bucks."
"Mine was nearer twenty," he said.
She shrugged.
"Anything over a dollar, I haven't got it," she said. "So it's the car for me. It's comfortable enough. Then I wait for the breakfast rush and wash up in some diner's restroom, when they're too busy to notice."
"What about eating?"
"I don't eat."
She was slowing down, maybe trying to preserve the rest of her gas.
"I'll pay for it," Reacher said. "You're giving me a ride."
There was another billboard, on the right shoulder. Exxon, ten miles.
"O.K.," she said. "I'll let you pay. But only so I can get back to Ellie."
She accelerated again, confident the tank would last ten miles. Less than a gallon, Reacher figured, even with a big old engine like that. Even driving fast. He sat back and watched the horizon reel in. Then he suddenly realized what he should do.
"Stop the car," he said.
"Why?"
"Just do it, O.K.?"
She glanced at him, puzzled, but she pulled over on the ragged shoulder. Left it with two wheels on the blacktop, the engine running, the air blasting.
"Now wait," he said.
They waited in the cold until the truck she had passed came through.
"Now sit still," he said.
He undipped his seat belt and squinted down and tore the pocket off his shirt. Cheap material, weak stitching, it came away with no trouble at all.
"What are you wearing?" he asked.
"What? What are you doing?"
"Tell me exactly what you're wearing."
She blushed. Fidgeted nervously.
"This dress," she said. "And underwear. And shoes."
"Show me your shoes."
She paused a second, and then leaned down and worked her shoes off. Passed them across to him, one at a time. He checked them carefully. Nothing in them. He passed them back. Then he leaned forward and unbuttoned his shirt. Took it off. Passed it to her.
"I'm getting out now," he said. "I'm going to turn my back. Take all your clothes off and put the shirt on. Leave your clothes on the seat and then get out, too."
"Why?"
"You want me to help you, just do it. All of them, O.K.?"
He got out of the car and walked away. Turned around and stared down the road, back the way they