Slater watched her struggle for
control of the temper that flared so easily around Barrington. "Maybe not,
but why not give it a try?"
Charles was already shaking his head with fake sorrow, and
she rushed on, "We've put a lot of work into this case. If we help them
out, the DEA has to give us at least part of the credit."
A gamble, Slater thought, and a good one. The only thing
Charles was better at than laying around on his lazy ass instead of prosecuting
cases, was taking credit for work he didn't do. Slater watched the play of
speculation cross the D.A.'s crafty face. The little weasel was already
thinking how he could spin the case to snatch the glory away from Bella.
Bella's face, on the other hand, was flushed and full of
bright hope. Slater swore to God that if Barrington let her remain on the case,
he'd do everything he could as her friend and in his position as sheriff to see
she got the credit she deserved.
On the heels of that thought, he wondered if she'd planned
it just this way. A ploy to bring Barrington around and get Slater firmly entrenched
on her side. He'd even bet she had already made a deal with the DEA agent. Atta
girl, he thought affectionately.
Bella waited for the weasel's answer and held her breath, thinking
she really hated this puny excuse for a man and an officer of the court she
loved so much.
"All right," Charles relented, drawing out the
words so it sounded as if he were doing her a big, fat favor. "But the
minute the DEA complains, you're off the case. Understand?"
Bella nodded vigorously, pleased with the outcome. She
despised toadying to Charles, but for the moment it didn't matter. She glanced
at Slater with a smug grin, which he returned with a quick wink. Fortunately
Charles missed both. He wouldn't like being played.
This was perfect. They could use the federal agency's budget
and still get the result she wanted. Mainly, putting Diego Vargas behind bars
for the rest of his life. Maybe even putting a needle in his arm if she could
prove the allegations she'd uncovered in the last few months.
Thank God California still had capital punishment. She was
sure she could prove special circumstances and this man deserved nothing less
than the death penalty.
"Hey there, Izzie," Slater needled her after
Charles had banged the office door loudly behind him. "Not a bad job of
manipulation."
Bella put on a mock frown. "If you call me that again,
Slater, I'll have to kill you." Then she smiled. "Wow, can you
believe that nincompoop gave in?"
"You were pretty persuasive." Slater eyed her
speculatively, suspicion etched in every line in his face. "What do you
know that Charlie Nincompoop doesn't?"
Bella wrinkled her nose and waved her hand as if Charles had
left a stench in the room. Which, as far as she was concerned, he had – the
stench of incompetence. "I might have already arranged a little
cooperation with the feds. Maybe."
"Really? What'd you have to give up for that agreement?
Doesn't sound like any federal agent I've heard of."
Bella looked quickly at Slater. She felt her face grow warm.
He had sharp eyes and excellent instincts, but he couldn't possibly know what
had happened to her in the last several days.
"Quid pro quo, I imagine," he continued, "and
that makes me wonder what you gave him."
Slater was too damned good at detecting.
"Don't be silly. Agent Hashemi and I are just going to
swap notes, share our toys, and play nice in the sandbox."
Slater laughed aloud, a hearty robust sound that rose from
his chest like an engine roaring. "Ah, Bella, you're one of a kind, that's
for sure."
He returned to his desk and sank down in a large leather
chair that matched his impressive size. "Off with you now, missy. I've got
work to do." He waved several sheaves of paper in the air as proof.
Bella grabbed her purse and opened the door. "Thanks,
Slater. We'll talk later."
As she reached the door, he called her back. "Isabella?"
Uh oh, he only used her real name when he got
control of the temper that flared so easily around Barrington. "Maybe not,
but why not give it a try?"
Charles was already shaking his head with fake sorrow, and
she rushed on, "We've put a lot of work into this case. If we help them
out, the DEA has to give us at least part of the credit."
A gamble, Slater thought, and a good one. The only thing
Charles was better at than laying around on his lazy ass instead of prosecuting
cases, was taking credit for work he didn't do. Slater watched the play of
speculation cross the D.A.'s crafty face. The little weasel was already
thinking how he could spin the case to snatch the glory away from Bella.
Bella's face, on the other hand, was flushed and full of
bright hope. Slater swore to God that if Barrington let her remain on the case,
he'd do everything he could as her friend and in his position as sheriff to see
she got the credit she deserved.
On the heels of that thought, he wondered if she'd planned
it just this way. A ploy to bring Barrington around and get Slater firmly entrenched
on her side. He'd even bet she had already made a deal with the DEA agent. Atta
girl, he thought affectionately.
Bella waited for the weasel's answer and held her breath, thinking
she really hated this puny excuse for a man and an officer of the court she
loved so much.
"All right," Charles relented, drawing out the
words so it sounded as if he were doing her a big, fat favor. "But the
minute the DEA complains, you're off the case. Understand?"
Bella nodded vigorously, pleased with the outcome. She
despised toadying to Charles, but for the moment it didn't matter. She glanced
at Slater with a smug grin, which he returned with a quick wink. Fortunately
Charles missed both. He wouldn't like being played.
This was perfect. They could use the federal agency's budget
and still get the result she wanted. Mainly, putting Diego Vargas behind bars
for the rest of his life. Maybe even putting a needle in his arm if she could
prove the allegations she'd uncovered in the last few months.
Thank God California still had capital punishment. She was
sure she could prove special circumstances and this man deserved nothing less
than the death penalty.
"Hey there, Izzie," Slater needled her after
Charles had banged the office door loudly behind him. "Not a bad job of
manipulation."
Bella put on a mock frown. "If you call me that again,
Slater, I'll have to kill you." Then she smiled. "Wow, can you
believe that nincompoop gave in?"
"You were pretty persuasive." Slater eyed her
speculatively, suspicion etched in every line in his face. "What do you
know that Charlie Nincompoop doesn't?"
Bella wrinkled her nose and waved her hand as if Charles had
left a stench in the room. Which, as far as she was concerned, he had – the
stench of incompetence. "I might have already arranged a little
cooperation with the feds. Maybe."
"Really? What'd you have to give up for that agreement?
Doesn't sound like any federal agent I've heard of."
Bella looked quickly at Slater. She felt her face grow warm.
He had sharp eyes and excellent instincts, but he couldn't possibly know what
had happened to her in the last several days.
"Quid pro quo, I imagine," he continued, "and
that makes me wonder what you gave him."
Slater was too damned good at detecting.
"Don't be silly. Agent Hashemi and I are just going to
swap notes, share our toys, and play nice in the sandbox."
Slater laughed aloud, a hearty robust sound that rose from
his chest like an engine roaring. "Ah, Bella, you're one of a kind, that's
for sure."
He returned to his desk and sank down in a large leather
chair that matched his impressive size. "Off with you now, missy. I've got
work to do." He waved several sheaves of paper in the air as proof.
Bella grabbed her purse and opened the door. "Thanks,
Slater. We'll talk later."
As she reached the door, he called her back. "Isabella?"
Uh oh, he only used her real name when he got
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