The Twelfth Card (Lincoln Rhyme 6)

Jonette glanced at the stalls. "I didn't know we were alone. Sorry to be wack. But I couldn't say anything that'd blow my cover." The policewoman looked Geneva over, shook her head. "Shame this had to happen to you. You're one of the good ones. I never spent a

ny worry on you."

"A cop," Geneva whispered in disbelief.

Jonette laughed in a high, girlish voice. "I'm the man, yep."

"You're so down," Geneva said. "I never guessed."

Mr. Bell said, "You remember when they busted those seniors who smuggled some guns into the school a few weeks ago?"

Geneva nodded. "A pipe bomb too, or something."

"It was going to be another Columbine, right here," the man said in his lazy drawl. "Jonette's the one heard about it and stopped the whole thing."

"Had to keep my cover so I couldn't take 'em down myself," she said as if she regretted not being able to bust up the kids personally. "Now, as long as you're going to be in school, which I think is pretty wack, but that's a different story, long as you're here, I'll keep an eye on you. You see anything makes you uneasy, give me a sign."

"Gang sign?"

Jonette laughed. "You'd be a claimer in any gang, Gen, nothing personal. You go throwing me a flag, I think everybody'd know something was up. Better you just scratch your ear. How's that?"

"Sure."

"Then I'll come over and mess you up some. Give you some shit. Get you out of wherever you are. You cool with that? I won't hurt you. Maybe just push you round a little."

"Sure, good . . . Listen, thanks for doing this. And I won't say anything about you."

"I knew that 'fore I told you," Jonette said. Then she looked at the officer. "You wanta do it now?"

"You bet."

Then the pleasant, soft-spoken policeman got a dark look on his face and shouted, "What the hell're you doing in here?"

Screeching: "Get yo' motherfuckin' hands off me, asshole!" Jonette had slipped into character again.

The detective took her by the arm and shoved her out the door. She stumbled into the wall.

"Fuck you, I'ma sue yo' fucking ass for abuse or some shit." The girl rubbed her arm. "You can't touch me. That a crime, mother fucker!" She stormed off down the hall. After a pause Detective Bell and Geneva stepped into the cafeteria proper.

"Good actress," Geneva whispered.

"One of the best," the policeman said.

"She kind of blew your cover."

He handed her back the social studies book, grinned. "Wasn't exactly working."

Geneva sat down at a table in the corner and pulled a language arts book out of her knapsack.

Detective Bell asked, "Aren't you eating?"

"No."

"Did your uncle give you your lunch money?"

"I'm not really hungry."

"Forgot, didn't he? All respect, he's not a man who's ever been a father. I can tell. I'll rustle you up something."