No Immunity

commercial flights. What leaves at that hour are corporate jets, angling to get their execs stateside while there’s still time for meetings.”
    “Adcock Explorations-—”
    “They could have leased a jet, but they don’t own one.”
    “Grady wouldn’t have leased one without Adcock’s knowledge. He must have made that quick flight south with some other company, like Nihonco. No wonder Adcock’s going crazy.” Again, Tchernak paused for input, and again he was reminded that with data, Persis gave, she didn’t ponder.
    If Kiernan were here... But he didn’t need Kiernan to realize that if Grady had used the boys to find oil, then they were the only ones who knew where that find was. If Grady was selling out to Nihonco, he wouldn’t want to leave the boys in Yaviza for Reston Adcock to follow. Tchernak jumped up and raced for the door.

CHAPTER 31

    The Chevy was newer, bigger, and Connie knew where she was going. Kiernan pressed on the gas and narrowed the distance between them. She was off First Street in a dark land of small buildings set far back on lots. Connie picked up speed; her taillights were dots in the distance. Kiernan stepped harder on the gas. The truck sounded like a mariachi band. She thought of the auto club warnings about driving into the desert. Know your route. Did she even have a route? Have adequate food and water. Not. Have your vehicle checked by a mechanic before embarking on the trip. Ha! She didn’t even have a full tank of gas. But Connie was her only lead.
    Suddenly the taillights were gone. In front was blackness. She was heading into a wall of dirt. A hillside grew out of nowhere. The street evaporated. She spotted tail-lights up the hill to her right before she made out the narrow corkscrewing road. Pulling the wheel hard, she took the hill in third gear. The old truck sputtered. She jammed in the clutch and slammed the gear stick back and to the left till it found its niche and the engine took a thankful breath and pulled itself uphill. Connie’s taillights flashed and were gone as she whipped around curves she had probably known since childhood. The black of the night was blacker here, devoid of even lamp glow muted by curtains. Sand and scrub pine walled in the winding road.
    The engine coughed. Kiernan shifted the truck to first gear. Christ, she might as well be walking. She had to keep Connie in view. Connie’d know someone was following. In such a small town, could she recognize her friends’ trucks from their headlights? Probably some, and one as old and battered as this would be a good candidate for uneven lights. Without slowing, she leaned into a curve and then pressed harder on the gas. If she ever needed her own fine Jeep from home, this was the time.
    The road leveled off, dipped, and climbed again. Surprisingly the taillights were larger. Connie hadn’t whipped through the curves like a teenaged boy. Lucky thing—unless the sheriff had spotted two sets of taillights. There was not one side road. And the road itself was getting narrower. Even if Fox was on Route 93, he would be back soon and then he’d be eyeing alternate roads. Was this one of many options leaving Gattozzi, or the only road out of town?
    She crested a hill, and a sudden swatch of moonlight showed a road to the left, angling up a higher peak, then down. Connie’s taillights blinked in and out of her range of vision. Depressions could have been turnoffs, but Kiernan couldn’t spare her gaze from the taillights ahead to check. She didn’t know’ how long she’d been driving when the lights disappeared altogether. She floored the gas; the truck bounced and shrieked into a curve. She swung her gaze from it to the road ahead, desperately searching for the red lights.
    Connie had turned. Kiernan followed before she realized the road was gravel. The truck rattled so loudly, she couldn’t tell if the engine was coughing. Irritably she slowed the truck, checking for four-wheel drive, finding none. Pebbles spit at the sides. She was hanging on as much as steering. To her right, pine trees not much taller than the cab grew close to the road. To her left she could see the outlines of small, rough-looking plants, the type that would spike you if you fell on them.
    Maybe Jeff was hiding out back here. “If I get ahold of him,” Kiernan muttered. The man wasn’t just a liar. What he’d done made no sense. Why was he so desperate to cover up the woman’s death? Why not just bury her?
    A