No Immunity

to get another chance. What’ve you got?”
    “Let’s see. Louisa Larson. Office in a pretty shabby area, but she drives a blue BMW. Grady flew in from Panama City a week ago Friday. But he had a hotel receipt from down there for Tuesday night. His predecessor, Ross Estes, was killed down there three months ago. Last people Estes was seen with were Nihonco reps.”
    “Nihonco?”
    “Japanese oil company.”
    “Whew! Was Grady selling out Adcock?”
    “Could be. Adcock’s hocked to the earlobes. And the two boys—”
    “Where are those boys?” Faye emerged from behind the gold Jeep, still pale. The gun was now loose in her hand. “Grady said they were too sick to travel. Where are they? Who took them?”
    “What makes you think they didn’t shoot Grady and light off on foot?” Tchernak asked.
    “Too sick. That blood in there, if it’s not Grady’s, it’s theirs. Grady kept saying they had the flu, but I knew better. You don’t bleed all the hell over with the flu.”
    “Did you call a doctor?”
    “Didn’t have to.” Her hands were on her hips and she was nodding up at Tchernak. Chalk up another for his masculine appeal, Kiernan thought as she eased herself into the shadow and tried vainly to get her turtleneck tighter around her icy shoulders.
    “Grady called Tremaine. Came into the cafe to use the pay phone—we don’t have phones in the rooms. Thought he was being smart. Waited till I was busy with a party of four.”
    “So how do you know?” Tchernak’s tone was almost baiting.
    “How’d I know? Redial. It’s not marked, but it’s on the phone. Come in handy more than once.”
    “Did Grady call about the boys’ being sick?” Tchernak asked.
    Faye shrugged. “Redial only tells where, not what.”
    “Did the doctor come?”
    “Not as I saw.”
    “Faye,” Kiernan said, starting toward the cafe, “when did Grady make that call to Tremaine?”
    “Soon as he checked in.”
    “And he didn’t call again?”
    “Nope. No calls to no one.”
    “And the boys didn’t get better?”
    “Not as I could see. Looked worse to me. But I wasn’t in the room. I don’t go in my guests’ rooms, not ‘less I need to. Makes it easier all around. But I’ll tell you, I was tempted here. ‘Tomorrow,’ I told myself. ‘If those kids aren’t better by tomorrow, I’m going in.’ ”
    Kiernan nodded, wondering what tomorrow would have brought—the doctor or chance at another tomorrow.
    If the boys lived that long. “Faye, who is it you think shot Grady?”
    “His girlfriend.”
    “Louisa?” Tchernak said, moving in beside her.
    “Oh, so he’s got more’n one. Can’t say that surprises me. I know men—see enough of ‘em shacking up here— and Grady was too much a charmer for his own good. They only stopped for bottled water and picnic sandwiches—”
    “When was that?”
    “Sunday morning, ‘bout ten. Before the after-church crowd.” Tchernak opened the glass door. Kiernan followed Faye inside through an almost visible curtain of grease.
    She didn’t turn to see Tchernak’s appalled expression, but Faye read it. “Yeah, mister, we get the after-church trade. May not look like much, but I’m a damned good cook.” She moved protectively behind the counter and began wiping the Formica.
    The cafe probably sat fifty at the tables or the booths by the windows. Now it was empty but for two egg-caked plates and stained mugs on the counter. In one sweeping motion Faye moved them into the dishpan and pocketed the dollar-fifty tip. Somewhere beyond her a refrigerator rumbled.
    “You said the girlfriend’s name was not Louisa. What was it?” Kiernan asked.
    “Irene. I remember because it’s such an old-fashioned name. But maybe that’s only in the Anglo world.”
    “Irene was Hispanic?”
    “Looked it. But she was dressed American, and by the sound of her, she could have been from Iowa City.”
    “Wearing jeans? Nails polished a pale peach color?” In her mind Kiernan could see those manicured nails with skin grotesquely swollen around them.
    Faye nodded so matter-of-factly that Kiernan had to remind herself that she had seen a normal, healthy woman with forty, maybe fifty years to live, a woman who had stood by this counter and assumed that her biggest danger was buying the wrong chocolate bar.
    Faye squeezed out the rag and tossed it by the sink. “I’ll tell you, she had Grady pegged. She was already pissed.”
    “About?”
    “Time. She was carrying on to get