in my workload,” she said coolly. “But I have four trials next week and Merrick isn’t one of them. We don’t even pick the jury for his trial until the end of the month.”
“If you don’t plan on giving this case the attention it deserves, I’m wasting my time here.”
“My time’s as valuable as yours, Lieutenant, and if you want Mr. Merrick put behind bars—where I fully intend to put him—you’ll sit down so we can discuss the case.”
Creighton sat, but the scowl on his face only darkened. No sign of those dimples anywhere.
Natalie wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said stiffly. “But the last time we nabbed Merrick, your boss let him walk on a technicality. I don’t want to see that happen again.”
His criticism put her back up. “I’m aware of the situation, Lieutenant. I’m also aware that there was some question regarding the chain of evidence, which resulted in the charges being dropped.
“Prosecutors are only able to work with the evidence they’re given,” she reminded him. “As long as the evidence is there, we’ll put Roger Merrick away.”
“It’s Conroy I want,” he told her.
The statement, as much as his passionate delivery of it, made her pause. “Conroy?”
He shook his head, as if exasperated by her obvious lack of understanding. “Zane Conroy.”
“I know the name,” she said icily. “I just don’t know why you think this case has anything to do with him.”
“Because I know Conroy.”
Natalie’s smile was as cool as her tone. “And if your apparent familiarity with the man in question was admissible evidence, he would no doubt have been indicted on numerous charges already.”
He seemed taken aback by her response at first, then he chuckled. The deep, rich sound of his laughter was both unexpected and unexpectedly warm, and it defused some of the tension that had built between them.
“Okay, I guess I deserved that.” He smiled, subjecting her to the full impact of those dimples. “And you deserve an apology.”
She sat back, waited.
“I am sorry. This case is important to me, and I was annoyed to hear that Beckett had delegated it to…”
“Me?” she supplied.
He smiled again. “Not you personally, but to the newest employee in the office.”
“Which would be me.”
“I thought he would want to handle the case himself.”
“Apparently not,” she said.
“How old are you, anyway?”
Natalie frowned. “What does my age have to do with anything?”
“How old?” he asked again.
He had no right to ask and she had no obligation to answer. But she understood the importance of picking her battles, and she sensed there could be many of those with Lieutenant Creighton. “Thirty-one.”
“You look younger.”
“I still don’t see the relevance of this.”
“It’s relevant because I’m trying to figure out why John Beckett would assign a case with such potentially explosive consequences to an attorney who’s still wet behind the ears.” Then he took the sting out of his words with another of those mind-numbing smiles. “Although they’re very cute ears.”
Natalie swallowed, unnerved by the unexpected comment. Was the sexier-than-a-GQ-cover-model lieutenant actually flirting with her? If so, she was sure it was nothing personal. He was probably just one of those guys who didn’t know how to turn off the charm. That didn’t mean she had to succumb to it. Especially not when he’d just questioned her professional competency, albeit in somewhat complimentary terms.
“You’re the only one who believes this case is anything more than the routine prosecution of a small-time drug dealer,” she told him. “And for your information, I graduated summa cum laude from the University of Chicago Law School five years ago.”
“And you’ve been working as a public defender out of a west-end legal clinic in that city ever since.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised by his reference to her previous work. It was hardly a secret. But something in his tone, or maybe it was the intense scrutiny of those eyes, made her uneasy. Which only made her all the more determined not to show it.
“What brought you to Fairweather?” he asked.
“I was looking for a change and this job was available.”
“You just suddenly decided you’d rather prosecute than defend society’s criminal element?”
Despite the casual tone of the question, Natalie got the impression his interest in her response was anything but casual. “Alleged criminal element,” she said pointedly. “Everyone’s innocent until proven guilty.”
He laughed again, and Natalie was grateful she was already sitting down, because there was something about that warm chuckle that made her knees weak.
“Somehow I doubt you spouted that line during your interview with the district attorney,” he said.
“John Beckett is aware of the work I did in Chicago. In fact, he thought my previous experience made me ideally suited for this position. Who better to anticipate the arguments of a defense attorney than someone who used to be one?”
“I’ll reserve judgment on that,” Creighton allowed.
“Fine,” she said. “In the meantime, maybe you could tell me why you think Roger Merrick will lead you to Zane Conroy.”
“What do you know about Conroy?”
“Not a lot,” she admitted. And she didn’t know if what she’d heard about him was mostly fact or fiction, but his name had been spoken with a reverence usually reserved for the most powerful and dangerous of men.
“Let me enlighten you,” Creighton said. “On the surface, he’s a respected and respectable businessman. He has several apparently legitimate companies, including a local restaurant and a printing company, but his most successful business is sales.”
“Drugs?”
“Mostly. He also deals in weapons and women, and anything else, so long as the price is right. His interests extend from Fairweather to Atlantic City down to Miami and all points in between. With a network like that, there has to be a weak link somewhere.”
“And you think it’s Merrick.”
He nodded.
“Why?”
“Because
