No Immunity

hour ago and I still haven’t had a chance.”
    “I don’t know. Sheriff? She wants to pee.”
    Fox stuck his head out of the bloody motel room. His face looked not the green she might have expected but Merely scrunched in irritation. “What? You looking for another back window? Yeah, I know about that trick in the saloon.”
    “Sheriff, this is a legitimate request.”
    “Yeah, right. Okay. Go. Potter will be right outside. No, wait. Potter, come in here with O’Keefe and keep an eye on the scene. I’ll take her. She clean?”
    “Yeah, nothing on her. Probably all in that fanny pack.” Fox held out a hand, and with a sigh she gave him the pack. Her Swiss Army knife was not going to cut her out of here or uncork the identity of Grady’s killer, but the loss of it underlined just how helpless she was.
    “I could have left it with you, for all the good it’ll do you,” Fox said as he tossed it in the front seat.
    “Yeah, you could have been the Dalai Lama too.” She jammed her hands into her jacket pockets and headed to the cafe.
    He chugged after her and she couldn’t tell whether the gurgle of breath from him was a snort or just a sign of poor fitness. He moved in front of her. “I’m not even going to watch the Ladies’ door. Go ahead out the window if you want. Walk as far as you want across the desert in any direction. But, word of advice, take a good long drink before you do.”
    “You major in sarcasm at the sheriff’s academy?”
    “Sheriff,” a deputy called. “I found this guy out back’ “Kiernan!” Tchernak loped toward her and had his arms around her before his keeper changed gears. “Left Persis a message,” he whispered, slipping the phone into her pocket.
    “Hey, cut that out right now.”
    “It’s okay, Sheriff,” Tchernak said, “I’m her partner.“ Fox shook his head. “Don’t expect that to be a plus, fellow. Okay, Cioffi, put him in the cage.”
    “Yessir.”
    Kiernan was already at the cafe door. Inside, Faye stood behind the counter like an admiral on the bridge. Kiernan veered left into the Ladies’, and sighed at the age-stained yellow walls, speckled brown linoleum, and counter scoured down to the metal. The single window was large and low. A rhinoceros could have walked through it. But Sheriff Fox was right, the Doll’s House was a landlocked Devil’s Island, and all she’d get for her defenestration would be dehydrated. She used the toilet, then unfolded the little phone, hit Redial, and listened with relief as long distance beeped its way to California.
    “BakDat.”
    “Persis. Did you get Tchernak’s message?”
    “Who’s this?”
    “Kiernan O’Shaughnessy.” As if you didn’t know.
    “My business is with the Tchernak Detective Agency. As a reputable information service, I would never give out requested data to a competing detective.”
    She could see the blowsy woman plopping a bonbon between her over-red lips. “Tchernak’s not going to be calling you. He’s in a cage in a deputy’s car right now. And if you don’t tell me about Grady Hummacher’s flights, Tchernak’ll be there for a long time.”
    “Yeah, sure. Like I’d believe you.”
    “You think I’d lie? The sheriff found him standing over Hummacher’s corpse,” she lied.
    A sharp rap on the door shook her. “Hey, hurry up in there!”
    “I’ll just be a minute.”
    “What was that?” Persis demanded.
    “The sheriff. I don’t have much time, and Tchernak’s Sot less, so give.”
    “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you. But, for you there’s no cut rate. This time of night it’s double-time.”
    If she hadn’t been so pressed, Kiernan would have laughed. “What carrier did Hummacher fly to Panama and back on?”
    “Isn’t one.”
    “Isn’t a commercial flight?”
    “No, there isn’t... Persis paused as if she knew how infuriating that was. “Not one carrier, but two. I checked both commercial flights for both days. Hummacher wasn’t on either. Only other one going from Las Vegas to Panama City was chartered to Nihonco Oil.”
    Kiernan nodded. So her guess had been right. Grady had been in bed, or at least on charter, with Nihonco.
    “Come on in there!” Fox called before the requisite pounding.
    “Just a sec, Sheriff.” She shifted even farther away from the door and lowered her voice. “Persis, what about a Sheriff Fox from Gattozzi?”
    “No request on him.”
    Of course not. Five minutes ago Tchernak hadn’t laid eyes on Fox. “Fox, sheriff in