Read High Heat: A Jack Reacher Novella for Free Online Page A

now.”
    “Doing what?”
    “Peering into this car.”
    “Who?”
    “Some guy.”
    “For real? That’s kind of creepy.”
    Reacher said, “I know. And I’m real sorry, but I have to go find Jill Hemingway. I should tell her first. She needs some favors.”
    “Tell her what?”
    “What I saw.”
    “What did you see?”
    “Something she should know about.”
    “Was it one of Croselli’s guys?”
    “No.”
    “So how is it important?”
    “She might be able to use it.”
    “Where is she?”
    “I have no idea. Let me out in Washington Square and I’ll walk. I bet she’s north of Houston.”
    “You would be going right back in there, where we got chased out before.”
    “Let’s call that phase our reconnaissance.”
    “What would you do this time?”
    “Fastest way to find Hemingway is to look for Croselli.”
    “I’m not going to let you.”
    “How could you stop me?”
    “I would tell you not to. I’m your girlfriend. At least until midnight.”
    “Is this what they teach you at Sarah Lawrence?”
    “Pretty much.”
    “Works for me,” Reacher said. “We’ll just hang out, see if she comes by.”
    “Really?”
    “I mean it.”
    “Why?”
    “Laws of physics. A random encounter doesn’t get more likely just because both parties are moving.”
    “OK, where?”
    “Let’s say the corner of Bleecker and Broadway. That might make the encounter less random.”
    “That’s way down there.”
    “It’s a block from Houston. We can break out south if we need to.”
    “We?”
    “Was it you who wanted me to stick close by?”
    “This is a whole different type of crazy.”
    Reacher nodded.
    “I understand,” he said. “I really do. It’s your choice. You can let me out in Washington Square. That would be fine. Don’t think I’ll ever forget you.”
    “Really?”
    “If I’m done before midnight, I’ll come say goodbye.”
    “I mean, really, you won’t forget me? That’s very sweet.”
    “Also very true. As long as I live.”
    Chrissie said, “Tell me more about the guy you saw.”
    Reacher said, “I think it was the Son of Sam.”
    “You
are
crazy.”
    “I’m serious.”
    “And you just sat there?”
    “Seemed like the best thing to do.”
    “How close did he get?”
    “About twenty feet. He had a good look, and he walked away.”
    “The Son of Sam was twenty feet from me?”
    “He didn’t see you. I think that’s why he walked away.”
    She glanced all around in the dark and put the car in gear. She said, “The Son of Sam is an NYPD case, not the FBI.”
    Reacher said, “Whoever passes on a tip gets a brownie point. I imagine that’s how it works.”
    “What’s the tip?”
    “The way he moved.”
    There were more sirens behind them. First Avenue, Second Avenue, uptown, downtown, crosstown, there were plenty of cops on the streets. The mood was changing. Reacher could taste it on the air.
    “I’ll come with you,” Chrissie said. “For the experience. These are the big things we’ll always remember.”
    *     *     *
    They used 34th Street again, back toward the center of the island, back toward the heart of darkness. The city was still pitch black, still dead, like a giant creature fallen on its back. There were broken windows. There were people roaming in groups, carrying stuff. There were police cars and fire trucks speeding through the streets, all lit up and whooping and barking, but their lights didn’t make much impression on the blackness, and their sirens didn’t seem to worry the roaming people. They merely scuttled into doorways as the cars and trucks passed. The people reminded Reacher of tiny nighttime organisms working on a corpse, penetrating its skin, exploring it, disassembling it, feeding off it, recovering its nutrients, recycling its components, like a dead whale feeds a million sea creatures on the ocean bed.
    They turned south on Fifth Avenue at the Empire State Building and drove slowly in the middle lane, passing knots of