The Steel Kiss (Lincoln Rhyme 12)

"Still need to do some digging. Like being a cop all over again."

Then she frowned. "Nick, is he connected?"

"I don't know. Maybe. But what I told you before. I'm using a buddy from school to get the particulars. He's fine, he's clean. Never any trouble with the law."

"I'm glad, Nick." Her face softened.

"Uhm, Ame... Amelia, look, is your mother here?"

A pause. "She is."

"Can I say hi?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. I told you she hasn't been feeling well."

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A voice from the hallway called, "I'm well enough to say hello, Amie."

They turned to see the wiry figure in the hallway, backlit by the large bay windows against the far wall.

"Hello, Rose."

"Nick."

"Mom--"

"You brought lunch?"

"Just for you two. I can't stay."

"We're not ladies who lunch," Rose said slowly. And Sachs wondered if Rose was about to go on the assault. But her mother added, "We're ladies who dine. We'll save it for tonight." Rose was looking at the logo on the bag. "Vittorio's. I know it. Good place."

"Lasagna, veal piccata, salad, garlic bread."

Another glance at the heavy bag. "And, Nick, where are the five people coming to join us?"

He laughed. Sachs tried to.

"Come into the living room. I have the strength to converse but not to stand for very long."

She turned.

Oh, brother. This is just plain strange. Sachs sighed and followed the other two. She diverted to the kitchen, refrigerated the food and debated getting Nick some coffee. But decided it would take too long to brew and then cool to his taste. She wanted this to be a brief visit. She returned and found Rose in her lounger, Nick on an ottoman in front of the couch, as if sitting on a backless piece of furniture testified to the temporary nature of his stay. Sachs stood for a moment and then pulled a chair from the dining table, set it near her mother and sat down. Upright, leaning forward slightly. She wondered what her California friend Kathryn Dance, an investigator with skills in body language analysis, would have concluded about her posture and the messages it was telegraphing.

"Amie told me about your brother, you taking responsibility for the crime. Your trying to prove your innocence."

Rose was never one to withhold any stories she'd been told. Sachs had often thought it was a good thing that her mother was largely ignorant of social media. She would have been the hub of a million rumors zipping through the Internet.

"That's right. I found some leads. I hope they'll pan out. Maybe not, but then I'll still keep trying. Rose, Amelia told me you'd been staying with her off and on. That's why I took the chance of coming by today, not just to play delivery boy. I wanted to apologize to you. Both of you together."

The woman's eyes drilled into his. To Nick's credit, he didn't look away. Sachs believed he was the picture of calm, somebody at last getting something heavy and painful off his chest.

"It was the hardest thing I ever did, cutting things off with Amelia... and you. Not telling you the truth about Donnie. But I couldn't risk word getting out that he'd been involved and I hadn't. Amelia can give you the details, if you want them, but I know in my heart this guy Donnie got involved with, this guy who ran a crew--a gang--"

"I know what a crew is. My husband was a police officer all his life."

"Sure. Sorry. Well, this guy? He would've killed Donnie if I hadn't taken the fall. There was virtually no evidence against me. I was afraid if I told anybody what really happened, Internal Affairs or a prosecutor'd put two and two together and get the idea I was faking it. They wouldn't have to look very far to find Donnie. He was..." Nick's voice caught. He cleared his throat. "He was just a kid, who couldn't take care of himself. Oblivious, you know. He stumbled into the whole mess and got caught up with some bad people." Nick's eyes seemed damp.