Echo Burning

sharing a vehicle.
    “Families,” the night clerk said. “Or large parties.”
    “Did you check them in?” Reacher asked.
    The guy shook his head.
    “I’m the night man,” he said. “I’m not here until midnight.”
    Reacher stared at the page. Went very still. Looked away.
    “What?” Alice said.
    “This isn’t the right place. This is the wrong place. I blew it.”
    “Why?”
    “Look at the cars,” he said.
    He ran the gun muzzle down the fourth column. Three Chevrolets, three Hondas, two Toyotas, two Buicks, one Saab, one Audi. And one Ford.
    “Should be two Fords,” he said. “Their Crown Vic and the Explorer that’s already parked out there.”
    “Shit,” she said.
    He nodded. Shit . He went completely blank. If this wasn’t the right place, he had absolutely no idea what was. He had staked everything on it. He had no plan B. He glanced at the register. Ford . Pictured the old Explorer sitting out there, square and dull. Then he glanced back at the register again.
    The handwriting was all the same.
    “Who fills this out?” he asked.
    “The owner,” the clerk said. “She does everything the old-fashioned way.”
    He closed his eyes. Retraced in his mind Alice’s slow circle around the lot. Thought back to all the old-fashioned motels he’d used in his life.
    “O.K.,” he said. “The guest tells her the name and the address, she writes it down. Then maybe she just glances out of the window and writes down the vehicle make for herself. Maybe if the guests are talking or busy getting their money out.”
    “Maybe. I’m the night man. I’m never here for that.”
    “She’s not really into automobiles, is she?”
    “I wouldn’t know. Why?”
    “Because there are three Chevrolets in the book and only two in the lot. I think she put the Explorer down as a Chevy. It’s an old model. Kind of angular. Maybe she confused it with an old-model Blazer or something.”
    He touched the gun muzzle to the word Ford .
    “That’s the Crown Vic,” he said. “That’s them.”
    “You think?” Alice said.
    “I know. I can feel it.”
    They had taken two rooms, not adjacent, but in the same wing. Rooms five and eight.
    “O.K.,” he said again. “I’m going to take a look.”
    He pointed to the night guy. “You stay here and keep quiet.”
    Then he pointed to Alice. “You call the state police and start doing your thing with the federal judge, O.K.?”
    “You need a key?” the night clerk asked.
    “No,” Reacher said. “I don’t need a key.”
    Then he walked out into the damp warmth of the night.

    The right-hand row of cabins started with number one. There was a concrete walkway leading past each door. He moved quickly and quietly along it and his shoes left damp prints all the way. There was nothing to see except doors. They came at regular intervals. No windows. The windows would be at the back. These were standard-issue motel rooms, like he had seen a million times before, no doubt about it. Standard layout, with a door, a short hallway, closet on one side and bathroom on the other, the hallway opening out into a room occupying the full width of the unit, two beds, two chairs, a table, a credenza, air conditioner under the window, pastel pictures on the wall.
    Cabin number five had a Do Not Disturb tag lying on theconcrete a foot from the doorway. He stepped over it. If you’ve got a stolen kid, you keep her in the room farthest from the office. No-brainer . He walked on and stopped outside number eight. Put his ear to the crack of the door and listened. Heard nothing. He walked silently on, past number nine, past ten, to the end of the row. Walked around the bend of the U. The two cabin blocks were parallel, facing each other across a thirty-foot-wide rectangle of garden. It was desert horticulture, with low spiky plants growing out of raked gravel and crushed stone. There were small yellow lanterns here and there. Large rocks and boulders, carefully placed, a Japanese effect.
    The crushed stone was noisy under his feet. He had to walk slow. He passed by ten’s window, then nine’s, then crouched low and eased against the wall. Crawled forward and positioned himself directly under eight’s window sill. The air conditioner was running loud. He couldn’t hear anything over it. He raised his head, slowly and carefully. Looked into the room.
    Nothing doing. The room was completely empty. It was completely undisturbed. It might never have been occupied. It was just sitting