BLACK NOTICE. PATRICIA CORNWELL

I sighed.

“Okay, okay.”

“We’ve got Interpol trying to track down who this guy is. I feel under as much pressure as.everybody else, Larry” I said.

“You don’t need to explain. I know when you say jump, there’s always a good reason. I guess I put my foot in my mouth,” he added. “What’s with that kid? He acted like he didn’t know he wasn’t accepted at the police academy. Hell, it’s all over the building:’

“First of all, I didn’t know he didn’t get in,” I said. “And second, I don’t know why it’s ail over the building.”

Even as I said it, Marino came to mind. He said he was going to fix Ruffin, and maybe he just did by somehow finding out the news and gleefully spreading it.

“Supposedly Bray’s the, one who gave him the boot,” Posner went on.

Moments later, Ruffin returned with a plastic bag in hand. We left the decomposed room and washed up in our respective locker rooms. I took my time. I made him wait in the hall, knowing his anxiety was heating up with every second that went by. When I finally emerged, we walked together in silence, and he stopped twice to take a nervous drink of water.

“I hope I’m not getting a fever;” he said.

I stopped and looked at him, and-he involuntarily jerked away when I placed the back- of my hand on his cheek.

“I think you’re fine,” I said.

I accompanied him through the lobby and into the parking lot, and by now he was clearly frightened.

“Is something wrong?” he finally asked, clearing his throat and putting on sunglasses.

“Why would you ask me that?” I innocently said.

“You walking me out here and everything.”

“I’m heading to my car.”

“I’m sorry I said to you what I did about problems here and the Internet stuff and everything,” he said. “I knew it was better to keep it to myself, that you would get mad at me.”

“Why would you think I’m mad at you?” I asked as I unlocked my car.

He seemed at a loss for words. I opened the trunk and set the plastic bag inside it.

“You got a nick on the paint there. Probably. from a kicked-up rock, but it’s starting to rust. . .”

“Chuck, I want you to hear what I’m saying;” I calmly told him. “I know”

“What? I don’t understand what you mean.” He tripped over words.

“You understand completely.”

I got into the front seat and turned on the engine.

“Get in, Chuck,” I said. “You don’t need to stand out in the cold. Especially since you’re not feeling well.”

He hesitated and exuded fear like an odor as he walked around to the passenger’s side.

“Sorry you weren’t able to make it to Buckhead’s. We had an interesting conversation with Deputy Chief Bray,” I said as he shut his door.

His mouth fell open.

“It’s a relief to me to have so many questions answered at last,” I went on. “E-mail, the Internet, rumors about my career, leaks.”

I waited to see what he would say to this and was startled when he blurted out, “That’s why I suddenly didn’t make it into the academy, isn’t it? You see her last night and this morning I get the news. You bad-mouthed me, told her not to hire me, then spread it everywhere to embarrass me.”

“Your name never came up once. And I most certainly haven’t spread anything about you anywhere.”

“Bullshit:’ His angry voice trembled as if he might cry. “I’ve wanted to be a cop all my life, and now you ruined it!”

“No, Chuck, you ruined it.”

“Call the chief and say something. You can, you can,” he begged like a distraught child. “Please.”

“Why were you meeting Bray last night?”

“Because she told me to. I don’t know what she wanted. She just sent me a page and told me to be in the parking lot at Buckhead’s at five-thirty.”

“And of course, in her mind you never showed up. I expect that may have something to do with why you got bad news this morning. What do you think?”