The Twelfth Card (Lincoln Rhyme 6)

The girl nodded then turned to go inside. She hesitated, glanced back. "I wanted to say something, Detective."

"What's that?"

"I know I'm not too agreeable sometimes. Pigheaded, people say. Well, mostly they say I'm a pain in the ass. But, thanks for what you're doing."

"Just my job, miss. 'Sides, half the witnesses and folk I protect aren't worth the concrete they walk on. I'm happy to be looking after somebody decent. Now, go for another twenty-four multiple choice in a row."

She blinked. "You were listening? I thought you weren't paying attention."

"I was listening, yes'm. And looking out for you. Though I'll fess up, doing tw

o things at once's pretty much my limit. Don't go expecting more than that. Okay, now--I'll be here when you get out."

"And I am going to pay you back for lunch."

"I told you that's on the mayor."

"Only, you paid for it yourself--you didn't get a receipt."

"Well, now, lookit that. You notice stuff too."

Inside the classroom she saw Kevin Cheaney standing in the back, talking to a few of his crew. He lifted his head, acknowledging her with a big smile, and strode over to her. Nearly every girl in class--whether pretty or plain--followed his stroll. Surprise--then shock--flashed in their eyes when they saw where he was headed.

Hey, she thought to them triumphantly, wrap your minds round that.

I'm in heaven. Geneva Settle looked down, face hot with pumping blood.

"Yo, girl," he said, walking up close. She smelled his aftershave. Wondered what it was. Maybe she'd find out his birthday and buy him some.

"Hi," she said, voice trembling. She cleared her throat. "Hi."

Okay, she'd had her moment of glory in front of the class--which would last forever. But now, once again, all she could think of was keeping him at a distance, making sure he didn't get hurt because of her. She'd tell him how dangerous it was to be around her. Forget snapping, forget yo' momma jokes. Get serious. Tell him what you really feel: that you're worried about him.

But before she could say anything he gestured her to the back of the classroom. "Come on over here. Got something for you."

For me? she thought. A deep breath and she walked after him to the corner of the room.

"Here. Got you a present." He slipped something into her hand. Black plastic. What was it? A cell phone? Pager? You weren't allowed to have them in school. Still, Geneva's heart pounded hard, wondering about the purpose of the gift. Was it to call him if she was in danger? Or could it be so that he could get in touch with her whenever he wanted to?

"This's phat," she said, looking it over. She realized that it wasn't a phone or beeper, but one of those organizer things. Like a Palm Pilot.

"Got games, Internet, email. All wireless. Wack how those things work."

"Thanks. Only . . . well, it looks expensive, Kevin. I don't know about this . . . "

"Oh, it's cool, girl. You'll earn it."

She looked up at him. "Earn it?"

"Listen up. Nothing to it. My boys and me tried it out. It's already hooked up to mine." He tapped his shirt pocket. "What you do is, first thing to remember, keep it 'tween yo' legs. Better if you wear a skirt. Teachers don't go lookin' there, or they get their ass sued, you know? Now, the first question on the test, you push the one button there. See it? Then push that space button and then type in the answer. You down with that?"

"The answer?"

"Then, listen up, this's important. You gotta push this button to send it to me. That little button with the antenna on it. You don't push it, it don't send. Second question, push two. Then the answer."

"I don't understand."

He laughed, wondering why she wasn't getting it. "Whatchu think? We got a deal, girl. I'll cover your back on the street. You cover mine in class."