There was a pause while he looked at the butcher block, where Thom had set a half-dozen tomatoes and a pile of basil. Finally he said, "I know where you were last night."
"Yeah?" she asked.
"The baby-sitters outside of Sung's apartment told me you went there after you left here and you didn't leave till one forty-five."
"My personal life is my own business," she said coldly.
The burly cop looked around and then whispered vehemently, "But it's not just your business anymore, Amelia. It's his business too."
She frowned. "His? Who?"
"Rhyme. Who d'you think?"
"What're you talking about?"
"He's tough. Tougher than anybody I know. But the one thing that'll break him into little pieces is you--if you keep going the way you're headed."
She was bewildered. "Headed?"
"Look, you didn't know him back then--that woman he was in love with, Clare. When she died, it took him forever to get over it. He came to work, he did his job, but it took a year for that light to come back in his eyes. And his wife . . . They had some fights, sure--I'm talking MGM Grand kind of fights. It wasn't the greatest marriage in the world but, after the accident, when he knew it wasn't going to work and he got divorced, that was hard for him, real hard."
"I don't know where you're going with this."
"You don't? It's pretty clear to me. You're the center of his life. He's let down all his defenses with you. You're going to break him. And I'm not going to let that happen." His voice dropped even further. "Just think about--if you keep seeing this guy it's going to kill Rhyme. It's . . . What the hell're you laughing at?"
"You're talking about me and John Sung?"
"Yeah, the guy you've been sneaking off to see." Sachs's hands rose to her face and she began shaking with laughter. "Oh, Lon . . . " Then she turned away quickly from the detective because a moment later--as she'd suddenly known would happen--the laughter turned into tears.
"I've got to talk to you about something."
"You're looking like it's bad news, Doctor."
"Why don't we sit down over there in the corner?"
"Jesus," Sellitto said, starting forward. Then stopping, hands at his side, awkward. "Amelia, what . . . "
She held up a hand and turned away.
"What's going on?"
Finally she caught her breath, wiped her face and turned back to the detective. "It's not what you're thinking, Lon."
Another tug of his belt. "Go on."
"You know Rhyme and I've talked about having kids."
"Yeah."
She gave a sour laugh. "It didn't work. It's not like we were trying that hard but I wasn't getting pregnant. I was worried that there was something wrong with Lincoln. So a few weeks ago we went in and we both had checkups."
"Yeah, I remember he went to the doctor."
She thought back to that day in the waiting room.
"Ah, Ms. Sachs. Here you are."
"Hello, Doctor."