“Joe, when was the last time you recorded a conversation I wanted to keep private?” Cain said, giving them that smile that had probably gotten her more women than she had time to deal with before she’d married Emma. “I’m lucky that way, and I’m almost sure my luck will hold out. The only way we don’t talk is if you’re not in the mood to do so.”

“What would you like to talk about?” She held up two fingers when the waitress came over and warmed Cain’s cup. With any luck they’d get a hot cup for a change.

“Let’s talk about your friends—old and new,” Cain said, pouring what looked to be hot milk into her coffee. They’d only ever gotten the powdered stuff, which seemed strange for a part of the state that was mostly dairy farms. “The thing about me is I seldom forget anything that’s important to me.”

“If you need to talk about your feelings, that’s not our field, but okay,” Joe said.

“Does that mean I’m your field in other ways?” Cain asked as the waitress put down two cups and poured their coffee. “That’s so flattering, but you have a tendency to miss things when you’re constantly watching me.”

“We communicate, so we seldom miss anything,” she said, aggravated by Cain’s poking.

“Okay, no need for snippy. It wasn’t your wife tied to a table waiting to be assaulted, and I wonder sometimes if you’ve forgotten about Anthony Curtis. That he helped Juan Luis carry that out is something I’m never going to forget.”

This had to be a trick. Cain Casey was never this talkative without a reason. “You think we’ve forgotten about Curtis?” Joe asked, and Cain stared at him with a patient expression.

“Please, Agent Simmons,” Cain said, exhaling deeply. “If you like, I can leave you to your iced coffee and kick you out of my sandbox. I’m not being patronizing—I’m asking a question.”

“You seldom ask us anything,” Shelby said, “but if you need reassurance, we haven’t forgotten Curtis. I know exactly what he did, and he deserves to be punished.” Shelby pushed her cup away and Joe followed suit. The waitress nodded when Cain held up two fingers and they were finally served something at the right temperature. “Thank you,” Shelby said to the waitress, but all she got was the back of her head as she walked away.

“Enjoy it while you can, but back to my question.”

“Why are you asking now?” Shelby asked wrapping her fingers around her cup.