The Steel Kiss (Lincoln Rhyme 12)

"Every time? He went that way every time he left?"

"I guess. Pretty sure."

"Did he carry anything?"

"Oh, a couple of times he h

ad a bag, plastic bag. I think once, yeah, he put it on the counter and it was heavy. Kind of clanked. Like metal."

"What color bag?"

"White."

"No idea what was inside?"

"No. Sorry. I really wish I could help."

"You're doing great. Clothes?"

She shook her head. "Other than the jacket and hat, I don't remember, no."

Sachs asked Rodriguez, "Security video?" Guessing the answer.

"It loops every day."

Yep, like she'd thought. It would've already overwritten any footage of their perp.

Turning back to Charlotte. "You've been a big help." Sachs directed the next comment to both of them. "I need you to tell everybody who works here that we're looking for this man. If he comes back, call nine one one. And add that he's suspect in a homicide."

"Homicide," Charlotte whispered, looking both horrified and delighted.

"That's right. I'm Detective Five-Eight-Eight-Five. Sachs." She handed cards to the manager and to Charlotte. The woman gazed at it as if the tiny bit of cardboard were a huge tip. She wore a wedding band and Sachs supposed she was already relishing the dinner table conversation tonight. Sachs looked from one to the other. "But don't call me. Call nine one one and mention my name. There'll be a squad car here faster than I could get here. You're going to have to act like nothing's going on. Just serve him like normal, then when he leaves or sits down, call us. Okay? Don't do anything other than that. I can rely on you?"

"Oh, you bet, Detective," Charlotte said, a private acknowledging a general's orders.

"I'll make sure of it," Rodriguez, the manager, said. "That everybody knows."

"There are other White Castles in the area. He might go there too. Could you tell the managers the same thing?"

"Sure."

Sachs looked out of the window, free of grime, and surveyed the wide street. It was lined with shops, restaurants and apartments. Any one of the stores could have sold things that clanked and stowed them in white plastic bags for customers to take home... or to a murder site.

Rodriguez offered, "Hey, Detective... Take some sliders. On me."

"We can't take complimentary food."

"But doughnuts..."

Sachs smiled. "That's a myth." She glanced at the grill. "But I'll pay for one."

Charlotte frowned. "You better get two. They're pretty small."

They were. But they were also damn good. And so was the milk shake. She finished her breakfast/lunch in all of three minutes. And stepped outside.

From her pocket she extracted her cell phone then called Ron Pulaski. There was no answer on the landline at the Unsub 40 war room at One PP. She tried his mobile. Voice mail. She left a message.

Okay, we canvass solo. Sachs started onto the sidewalk, swept by punchy wind from the overcast sky.