The fried eggs Bua Kham served with strong Lao coffee were only mildly appetizing. Kanitha had dark rings under her eyes that kept pace with Maier’s slowly healing injury. Despite her wasted countenance, she looked ravishing, and the detective watched her for a small eternity as she put on and laced up her boots and made sure her spiky black hair rose to disorderly attention. As she stood up and walked down to the shore, she looked like a pygmy warrior queen about to rouse her troops. She didn’t have any troops, of course. She just had Maier. Or perhaps it was the other way around.
Mist hung over the Nam Ou. The sun still hid behind the craggy mountains to the west. The first light of dawn caressed the ridges; shadows rippled across tree lines. The movement gave the forested ravines the a
