One Grave Less

have the ring of truth to it, so I didn’t believe it was from a real reporter,” she added, hoping to get in really good with him.
    “I appreciate your telling me. Let me or my editor know if this kind of thing happens again,” he said.
    “I will,” said Diane. “Thank you for speaking with me. Have you been approached by any strange people?”
    “Are you kidding?” He chuckled again. “Not by anyone who didn’t want to sell me something, or guide me somewhere.”
    Diane eyed Garnett to see if he had a question. He shook his head.
    “Thanks again,” said Diane. “Have a good evening on the town. I’ve been to Cuzco and it’s a lot of fun. Around the Plaza de Armas and San Blas are many good places to go—I’m sure you’ve been told.”
    “I believe we are starting out at a disco bar just off Plaza de Armas. Thanks.”
    “So,” said Garnett when she was off the phone, “he didn’t make the call.”
    “No. I’m no closer to understanding what is going on than I was in the beginning.”
    She heard a light tap on the door that sounded like Andie’s when Andie was being hesitant.
    “Come in,” she said.
    Andie poked her head in. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Dr. Fallon. Liam is here and he has a little information, he said.”
    Diane raised her eyebrows. “Please, send him in.”

Chapter 30
    Liam Dugal was older than Andie’s twenty-four years, well into his thirties. Had a handsome face, broad shoulders, soft brown eyes, and brown hair. Diane had only recently met him, but she liked him. He had helped her when she had needed help most. Recently out of the military, he was now a private detective and Diane often tossed work his way when she could.
    He smiled and nodded to Diane and Garnett as he walked in. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to Garnett.
    “Please say you understand what is going on,” said Diane.
    “I wish I could. But I do have some information. You may already have it.”
    “I doubt it,” said Diane. “I am in total darkness. If you have even a small candle, I’ll be grateful.”
    He pulled out a notebook, opened it, but didn’t look at it.
    “The, ah, murders didn’t happen in Río de Sangue. That’s simply the nearest large village with a telephone. The phone’s in a bar on a dock on the river. The river is how they get their supplies and mail.” He leaned forward with his forearms resting on his knees. The dead men listed on the warrant—Aaron Bowhay, Pico Nune, Luis Portman, and Razer Arizmendi—were local thugs in the area. Aaron Bowhay was the only outsider. He was from Indiana, a dropout military guy, soldier-for-hire type.”
    Liam stopped a moment and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Diane saw that his eyes were almost twinkling.
    “Diane apparently brutalized them,” he said. “Two were shot, one was beaten with a club of some sort, another was crushed to death. Two were mauled after that.” Liam grinned. “And what was it the doctor in the movie Seven said? ‘And they still have hell to look forward to.’ ”
    Diane stared openmouthed. “You have to be kidding. And they think I did all that?”
    Garnett snorted and shook his head.
    “One of the men lingered for a while. As he was dying he named you,” said Liam. “Apparently you wield a mean club.”
    Diane was speechless. She felt the absurd need to say out loud that she was innocent, that she was here in Rosewood when the men were murdered.
    “I talked to the woman who keeps the bar,” said Liam. “Doroteia Pitta. She said all the men were thugs who ran with minor strong men who are hiding out in various small villages, bullying the locals to take care of them. Two of the dead men, Portman and Bowhay, currently worked for a man named Julio Corday. The other two worked for a man named Marco Calvo, who, I take it, is an enemy or competitor of Corday’s.”
    “The woman told you a lot,” commented Garnett. “All this over the phone?”
    “My Spanish isn’t too good,” said Liam. “And she spoke mainly Portuguese. She may have misunderstood who I was.”
    Garnett and Diane smiled.
    “She had no idea how Interpol got involved. She didn’t even know what Interpol is. When I told her, she didn’t understand why the international police would be interested in these guys. She said they were nobodies.”
    “Why me?” said Diane. “Why were they focused on me? What is this about?” She turned to Garnett. “Do you think this is related to Simone being here and