Nothing to Lose

She started to speak a couple of times but couldn’t get any words past a dry throat. Finally she said, “I think we should all sit down and talk.” But the way she said it showed she wasn’t all the way scared. She was a tough old bird. Probably had to be, to have survived sixty-some years in Despair, and marriage to the boss man’s flunky.

Her husband huffed once and turned around and led the way into the living room. A sofa, an armchair, another armchair, with a lever on the side that meant it was a recliner. There was a coffee table and a large television set wired to a satellite box. The furniture was covered in a floral pattern that was duplicated in the drapes. The drapes were closed and had a ruffled pelmet made from the same fabric. Reacher suspected that Mrs. Gardner had sewed them herself.

The judge said, “Take a seat, I guess.”

Mrs. Gardner said, “I’m not going to make coffee. I think under the circumstances that would be a step too far.”

“Your choice,” Reacher said. “But I have to tell you I’d truly appreciate some.” He paused a moment and then sat down in the armchair. Gardner sat in the recliner. His wife stood for a moment longer and then sighed once and headed out of the room. A minute later Reacher heard water running and the quiet metallic sound of an aluminum percolator basket being rinsed.

Gardner said, “There is no appeal.”

“There has to be,” Reacher said. “It’s a constitutional issue. The Fifth and the Fourteenth Amendments guarantee due process. At the very least there must be the possibility of judicial review.”

“Are you serious?”

“Completely.”

“You want to go to federal court over a local vagrancy ordinance?”

“I’d prefer you to concede that a mistake has been made, and then go ahead and tear up whatever paperwork was generated.”

“There was no mistake. You are a vagrant, as defined by law.”

“I’d like you to reconsider that.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“I’d like to understand why it’s so important to you to have free rein in our town.”

“And I’d like to understand why it’s so important to you to keep me out.”

“Where’s your loss? It’s not much of a place.”

“It’s a matter of principle.”

Gardner said nothing. A moment later his wife came in, with a single mug of coffee in her hand. She placed it carefully on the table in front of Reacher’s chair and then backed away and sat down on the sofa. Reacher picked up the mug and took a sip. The coffee was hot, strong, and smooth. The mug was cylindrical, narrow in relation to its height, made of delicate bone china, and it had a thin lip.

“Excellent,” Reacher said. “Thank you very much. I’m really very grateful.”

Mrs. Gardner paused a beat and said, “You’re really very welcome.”

Reacher said, “You did a great job with the drapes, too.”

Mrs. Gardner didn’t reply to that. The judge said, “There’s nothing I can do. There’s no provision for an appeal. Sue the town, if you must.”

Reacher said, “You told me you’d welcome me with open arms if I got a job.”

The judge nodded. “Because that would remove the presumption of vagrancy.”

“There you go.”

“Have you gotten a job?”

“I have prospects. That’s the other thing we need to talk about. It’s not healthy that this town has no functioning law enforcement. So I want you to swear me in as a deputy.”

There was silence for a moment. Reacher took the pewter star from his shirt pocket. He said, “I already have the badge. And I have a lot of relevant experience.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Just trying to fill a hole.”

“You’re completely insane.”

“I’m offering my services.”

“Finish your coffee and get out of my home.”

“The coffee is hot and it’s good. I can’t just gulp it down.”

“Then leave it. Get the hell out. Now.”

“So you won’t swear me in?”

The judge stood up and planted his feet wide and made himself as tall as he could get, which was about five feet nine inches. His eyes narrowed as his brain ran calculations about present dangers versus future contingencies. He was silent with preoccupation for a long moment and then he said, “I’d rather deputize the entire damn population. Every last man, woman, and child in Despair. In fact, I think I will. Twenty-six hundred people. You think you can get past them all? Because I don’t. We aim to keep you out, mister, and we’re going to. You better believe it. You can take that to the bank.”

32

Reacher thumped back over the expansion joint at nine-thirty in the evening and was outside the diner before nine-thirty-five. He figured Vaughan might swing by there a couple of times during the night. He figured that if he left her truck on the curb she would see it and be reassured that he was OK. Or at least that her truck was OK.