The Cold Moon (Lincoln Rhyme 7)

Calmer now, she smiled, though Rhyme could see it was forced. "No, you stay here, Ron. Thanks."

She grabbed her jacket and, without saying anything else, hurried out.

As the front door clicked shut behind her, Sellitto's phone rang. He tensed as he listened. Then he looked up, announced, "Get this. There was a hit on the EVL. Tan Explorer, two white males inside. Evading an RMP. They're in pursuit." He listened some more. "Got it." He hung up. "They followed it to that big garage on the river at Houston by the West Side Highway. Exits're sealed. This could be it."

Rhyme ordered his radio to pick up the scrambled transmissions, and everyone in the lab stared at the small black plastic speakers. Two patrol officers reported that the Explorer had been spotted on the second floor but was abandoned. There was no sign of the men who'd been inside.

"I know the garage," Sellitto said. "It's a sieve. They could've gotten out anywhere."

Bo Haumann and a lieutenant reported that they had squads combing the streets around the garage, but there was no sign yet of the Watchmaker or his partner.

Sellitto shook his head in frustration. "At least we've got their wheels. It'll tell us plenty. We should get Amelia back to run the scene."

Rhyme debated. He'd been anticipating that the conflict between the two cases might come to a head, though he'd never thought it would happen this fast.

Sure, they should get her back.

But the criminalist decided not to. He knew her perhaps even better than he knew himself and he understood that she needed to run with the St. James case.

There's nothing worse than a crooked cop. . . .

He'd do this for her.

"No. Let her go."

"But, Linc--"

"We'll find somebody else."

The tense silence, which seemed to go on forever, was broken with: "I'll do it, sir."

Rhyme glanced to his right.

"You, Ron?"

"Yessir. I can handle it."

"I don't think so."

The rookie looked him in the eye and recited, "'It's important to note that the location where the victim's corpse is actually found is often the least important of the many crime scenes created when a homicide occurs--since it is there that conscientious perpetrators will cleanse the scene of trace and plant false evidence to lead off investigators. The more important--'"

"That's--"

"Your textbook, sir. I've read it. A couple of times, actually."

"You memorized it?"

"Just the important parts."

"What's not important?"

"I meant I memorized the specific rules."

Rhyme debated. He was young, inexperienced. But he at least knew the players and he had a sharp eye. "All right, Ron. But you don't take a single step into the scene unless we're online with each other."

"That's fine, sir."

"Oh, it's fine?" Rhyme asked wryly. "Thanks for your approval, rookie. Now, get going."