Without Fail

pretty good. He listened until the set ended and then walked back to the ticket taker.
    “Was there an old woman here last week?” he asked. “Sounded a little like Dawn Penn? With an old guy on keyboards?”
    The ticket taker shook his head.
    “Nobody like that,” the guy said. “Not here.”
    Reacher nodded once and stepped out into the shiny darkness. It was cold on the street. He headed west for the Port Authority and a bus out of town.