The Hard Way Read Online Free PDF Page B

feel like it was carved from solid rock.
Which must have been a good thing,
Reacher figured,
back when John Lennon lived here.
    “OK?” Lane said. “Seen enough?”
    “You mind if I check the desk?”
    “Why?”
    “It’s Kate’s, right?”
    “Yes, it is.”
    “So it’s what the cops would do.”
    Lane shrugged and Reacher started with the bottom drawers. The left-hand drawer held boxes of stationery and notepaper and cards engraved simply with the name
Kate Lane.
The right-hand drawer was fitted with file hangers and the contents related exclusively to Jade’s education. She was enrolled at a private school nine blocks north of the apartment. It was an expensive school, judging by the bills and the canceled checks. The checks were all drawn on Kate Lane’s personal account. The upper drawers held pens and pencils, envelopes, stamps, self-stick return address labels, a checkbook. And credit card receipts. But nothing very significant. Nothing recent. Nothing from Staples, for instance.
    The center drawer at the top held nothing but two American passports, one for Kate and one for Jade.
    “Who is Jade’s father?” Reacher asked.
    “Does it matter?”
    “It might. If this was a straightforward abduction, we’d definitely have to look at him. Estranged parents are who usually snatch kids.”
    “But this is a kidnap for ransom. And it’s Kate they’re talking about. Jade was just there by chance.”
    “Abductions can be disguised. And her father would need to clothe and feed her. And send her to school. He might want money.”
    “He’s dead,” Lane said. “He died of stomach cancer when Jade was three.”
    “Who was he?”
    “He owned a jewelry store. Kate ran it for a year, afterward. Not very well. She had been a model. But that’s where I met her. In the store. I was buying a watch.”
    “Any other relatives? Possessive grandparents, aunts, uncles?”
    “Nobody that I ever met. Therefore nobody that saw Jade in the last several years. Therefore nobody you could really describe as possessive.”
    Reacher closed the center drawer. Straightened the photograph and turned around.
    “Closet?” he said.
    Lane pointed at one of a pair of narrow white doors. Behind it was a closet, large for a New York City apartment, small for anyplace else. It had a pull chain for a light. Inside were racks of women’s clothes and shoes. Fragrance in the air. There was a jacket neatly folded on the floor. Ready for the dry cleaner, Reacher thought. He picked it up. There was a Bloomingdale’s label in it. He checked the pockets. Nothing in them.
    “What was she wearing when she went out?” he asked.
    “I’m not sure,” Lane said.
    “Who would know?”
    “We all left before her,” Lane said. “I don’t think anyone was still here. Except Taylor.”
    Reacher closed the closet door and stepped away to the armoire. It had double doors at the top and drawers below. One of the drawers held jewelry. One was full of miscellaneous junk like paper packets of spare buttons from new garments and discarded pocket change. One was full of lacy underwear. Bras, panties, all of them either white or black.
    “May I see Jade’s room?” Reacher asked.
    Lane led him through a short interior hallway. Jade’s room was all pale pastels and kid stuff. Furry bears, china dolls, toys, games. A low bed. Pajamas folded on the pillow. A nightlight still burning. A low desk covered in drawings done with wax crayons on butcher paper. A small chair, neatly tucked in.
    Nothing that meant anything to a military cop.
    “I’m done,” Reacher said. “I’m very sorry to intrude.”
    He followed Lane back to the living room. The leather bag was still there on the floor, near the foyer. Gregory and the five other soldiers were still in their places, still quiet and pensive.
    “Decision time,” Lane said. “Do we assume Reacher was observed entering the building tonight? Or not?”
    “I didn’t see anyone,” Gregory said. “And I