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nd she said it with a tone that Lucy sometimes--not often, but sometimes--heard in her own voice. A tone that didn't leave any doubt.
They walked more slowly now. The trap had spooked them all. And the heat was truly excruciating.
Lucy asked Amelia, "That surgery your friend's going to have? It's for his ... situation?"
"Yep."
"What's that look?" Lucy asked, noticing a darkness cross the woman's face.
"It probably won't do anything."
"Then why's he doing it?"
Amelia explained, "There's a chance it might help. Small chance. It's experimental. Nobody with the kind of injury he has--as serious as that--has ever improved."
"And you don't want him to go through with it?"
"I don't, no."
"Why not?"
Amelia hesitated. "Because it could kill him. Or make him even worse."
"You talked to him about it?"
"Yes."
"But it didn't do any good," Lucy said.
"Not a bit."
Lucy nodded. "I figured he's a man who's a bit muley."
Amelia said, "That's putting it mildly."
A crash sounded near them, in the brush, and by the time Lucy's hand found her pistol Amelia had drawn a careful bead on a wild turkey's chest. The four members of the search party smiled but the amusement lasted for only a moment, replaced by edginess as adrenaline eased through their hearts.
Guns replaced in holsters, eyes scanning the path, they continued forward, conversation on hold for the time being.
There were several categories people fell into when it came to Rhyme's injury.
Some took the joking, in-your-face approach. Crip humor, no prisoners taken.
Some, like Henry Davett, ignored his condition completely.
Most did what Ben was doing--tried to pretend that Rhyme didn't exist and prayed that they could escape at the earliest possible moment.
It was this response that Rhyme hated the most--it was one of the most blatant reminders of how different he was. But he had no time to dwell on his surrogate assistant's attitude. Garrett was leading Lydia deeper and deeper into the wilderness. And Mary Beth McConnell might be close to dying from suffocation or dehydration or a wound.
Jim Bell walked into the room. "Maybe there's some good news from the hospital. Ed Schaeffer said something to one of the nurses. Went unconscious again right after but I'm taking it as a good sign."
"What'd he say?" Rhyme asked. "Something he'd seen on that map?"
"She said it sounded like 'important.' Then 'olive.' "Bell walked to the map. Touched a location to the southeast of Tanner's Corner. "There's a development here. They named the roads after plants and fruits and things. One of them's Olive Street. But that's way south of Stone Creek. Should I tell Lucy and Amelia to check it out? I think we ought to."
Ah, the eternal conflict, Rhyme reflected: trust evidence or trust witnesses? If he picked wrong, Lydia or Mary Beth might die. "They should stay where they are, north of the river."
"You sure?" Bell asked doubtfully.
