Page 55 of Never Flinch

Jerome nods. “Also got a yard of guts.”

“She does.”

“Have you ever seen one of her runners at your meetings?”

“From time to time,” John admits, “but I only tell her if someone she’s hunting comes into Happy. I’m not a bleeding deacon like the Rev—Mike R., I mean—but I support the anonymity rule. Meetings are off-limits. I made an exception this time because if she’s right,that son of a bitch Briggs is a murderer as well as an alcoholic.” He pauses, takes a bite of his lobster mac. Then he says, “Also because it’s her. Holly.”

Jerome nods. “Got that right.” He smiles and holds a fist out over the table. “Always Holly.”

John bumps knuckles with him and repeats it. “Always Holly.”

7

The subject of their discussion pulls her Chrysler—which seems the size of a yacht after her Prius—into the lot of the Radisson. She sees a woman standing in the shade beneath the lobby overhang. She’s tall and looks young. Short sandy hair, jeans and a sleeveless blouse. Tennies on her feet. Holly guesses this is Kate McKay’s assistant. Anxious to meet the new security person and get things rolling. The girl—she looks young enough to still be called a girl—gives a tentative wave, and Holly raises her own hand in return.

In a rented Kia a few slots down, Chrissy Stewart watches this newcomer walk to the hotel’s overhang and shake hands with the Anderson bitch. Wondering,Who is this, now?Not that it matters. Nothing changes. The job is the job. The slaughter of the innocents, on account of politics and by abortion, must be stopped.

At all costs.

Chapter 9

1

Corrie has seen Holly’s picture on the Finders Keepers website, but she’s surprised at how petite the woman is. And her hair is grayer than in the website photo. Her thought, as Holly gives her outstretched hand a short but firm shake, is how different she is from the male security people they’ve had, especially Elmore Packer, he of the unfortunate champagne incident.

That’s probably good, Corrie thinks.Another beefcake is the last thing we need. Nobody will even notice she’s around. I just wish she wasn’t so small. She looks almost… frail.

For her part, Holly is thinking Corrie Anderson looks like a high school senior. But of course the older she herself gets, the younger the rest of the world becomes.

“We’re getting packed up,” Corrie says as they cross the Radisson’s lobby. “Actually, wearepacked up. It’s only a short run to Davenport, our next stop, but Kate likes to swim if she can before her… her lectures, and I’ll have a bunch of things to do.” They get in the elevator. “The…” Again, that slight hesitation. “… Iowa City lecture is tonight, of course, and Sunday’s off. Well, most of it. We’ll be driving to Madison. The dates are speeding up a little now. I did tell you we’re driving, right?”

“You did,” Holly says. “And you don’t really think of them as lectures, do you?”

Corrie blushes a little. “Well… Kate’s colorful. Put it that way.”

“I was looking forward to her talk in Buckeye City,” Holly says. “Now I guess I’ll get to hear her, after all.” Although she won’t be able to give Kate her full attention. Holly’s not here to be entertained.

Corrie uses a key card to let them into a small suite on the fourth floor. Kate McKay is sitting in a shaft of sunlight by the window, one foot curled beneath her, making notes on a yellow legal pad. There are two suitcases by the door. Small ones.She travels light, Holly thinks approvingly.

Kate shoots to her feet, gives Holly a quick up-and-down, then busts out the radiant smile that has graced magazine covers, newspapers, and blog posts without number.

“Holly Gibney!” She hijacks both of Holly’s hands in both of hers. “Welcome to Kate and Corrie’s Excellent Adventure!”

“It’s a pleasure to be here. As I was telling Corrie, I was planning to come and see you at the Mingo.”

“We wuz robbed!” Kate cries. She spreads her hands, as if making headlines. “Soul Singer Defeats Sisterhood! ‘Get Down Tonight’ Defeats ‘We Shall Overcome!’ Stop the presses!”

Kate laughs, her green eyes alight. Holly thinks there’s an aura about her, a crackle of psychic static electricity. Holly could tell herself that’s nonsense, she’s just feeling the awe ordinary folks feel when in the same room as a very famous person, but she suspects that persons who’ve attained a certain renown really do have that electricity about them. Not because they’re famous; it’s how theybecamefamous.

“Do you think I should lodge a protest, Holly?”

“It would probably be good public relations to give in graciously.”

Kate smiles at Corrie. “See? We have the right woman! Would you like something to drink, Holly?”

“Maybe a Coca-Cola, if there’s one in your minibar.”

“If there isn’t, I’ll complain to the management,” Kate declares. “Corrie, find this woman a Coke.”

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