of the second floor of the courthouse and wedged between two courtrooms, it maintained the elegant, polished- mahogany look of the historic old building.
She'd made the place her own with a few personal effects scattered throughout – a photo of a young girl, maybe six or seven with an older girl who had Isabella's same large dark eyes and wide smile. Another picture of the two women Rafe had seen in Stuckey's Bar with Torres and an older woman, their mother he guessed.
'Have a seat.' Torres indicated two large, comfortable-looking chairs in front of a highly polished but alarmingly cluttered desk.
'What's up?' Slater asked casually, crossing his foot over a knee and sinking back into one of the deep chairs.
Rafe took the other one which faced the west end of the building and a floor to ceiling bank of windows that overlooked the side lawn of the courthouse.
'Santos,' she answered in a clipped voice. 'That's what's up.' Her lips flattened in a tight line as if the name on her lips was bitter.
Rafe looked up in surprise. 'Vargas' henchman?'
'And his attorney of record, too.' Her dark eyes were large in her pale face. 'Nevada County picked him up for speeding. A friend of mine works in the sheriff's office up there.' She slanted a look at Slater that might've been a token apology for stepping on his toes.
Slater shrugged and spread his hands wide as if he couldn't care less.
'Anyway, it was a bogus move. They wanted to have a reason to look inside the vehicle.'
'Find anything?' Slater asked.
'Thirty grams of marijuana, single bag.'
'Just enough to be a little trouble, right?' Slater thought a moment. 'Was Santos alone?'
Torres nodded.
'Where was he coming from?'
'South. Maybe on his way to
'Picking up Vargas, you think?'
'Likely.'
The cryptic, short exchange irritated Rafe. 'What the hell are you two talking about?'
'The house of wom – ' Torres began.
'I know what the damn phrase means,' he interrupted. 'What's that got to do with Vargas' drugs?'
'Diego Vargas owns two whore houses in Nevada County,' Slater explained, 'both legit. But Torres thinks he's running at least one illegal brothel where he supplies his customers with… special requests.'
Rafe lifted his brows, but he already knew the answer.
'Underage girls,' Isabella provided flatly, 'some of them as young as seven or eight.'
'Jesus.' He hadn't known that, but he should've.
'Right,' she confirmed sarcastically, 'but I don't think Jesus had that much to say about it. You still think the drug angle is more important?'
Rafe shook his head dismissively. 'That's not the point – which one's more important. We could butt our heads against that wall all day. What we can actually
'So you say.' Torres tapped her foot, still standing behind her desk even though both the men were seated in front of her.
Rafe looked from Slater to her and back again. 'You have any intel on an illegal house? Any idea where it's located? Evidence of ownership by Vargas?'
Torres shook her head, and Rafe figured it cost her to admit to that weakness in her case.
He made a hand gesture as if her silence made his point. 'Then let's talk about drugs. How is Nevada County holding Santos with barely more than an ounce of weed? He should've been out already.'
'They're pushing it,' Torres admitted.
'Tell them to spring him,' Slater suggested. 'You're right, Bella, it was a bad move on their part.'
'He was doing sixty-nine on I-80 coming over Donner Pass,' she complained. 'They ran the plates when they pulled him over, saw it was registered to Santos, and used his parole from Chino to search the vehicle.'
'That's legit,' Rafe said.
'Yeah,' Slater answered, 'but dumb. Now Scarface knows he's being watched carefully.'
'Scarface?' Rafe asked.
'You've seen his picture?' Slater countered.
'Actually, no. I've been looking at Vargas. He's our main concern,' Rafe answered.
'Vargas already knows he's on our radar,' Slater commented. 'Santos, not so much. Maybe.'
'You should watch out for Santos,' Torres warned, the same distasteful set to her mouth.
'The power behind the throne,' Slater added.
'How do you mean?' Rafe asked.
Torres finally collapsed in a heap on her chair. 'Diego Vargas is a very evil man,' she explained, carefully formulating her reply. 'But Santos? He's not only bad, he's smart.'
'Like a fox,' Slater added.
Chapter Nineteen
The last time Isabella Torres had seen Santos face to face was in Councilman Diego Vargas' office on a prior case. That meeting hadn't gone well then, and she dreaded confronting the man again. Now he seemed even more of a giant as he stood for arraignment while she watched from the rear of the courtroom.
Nevada County had decided to press forward on the drug charges although they were likely to be dismissed. Possession of the small amount of marijuana, not repackaged in individual baggies for sale, was a ridiculous charge, and in any other county wouldn't have been worth the court's time. Bella could tell by the look on the magistrate's face that this judge also didn't appreciate the waste.
A short, round attorney, expensively dressed in a black, light-weight suit, stood beside Santos, dwarfed by his client. Santos dipped his head to hear the lawyer whisper in his ear and then stood with military precision, looking neither left nor right, but straight toward the judge's raised podium.
'Your honor,' the attorney intoned, 'I respectfully request the charges against my client be dismissed and ask the court to sanction the aggressive actions of the sheriff's department in bringing Mr. Santos here on these ridiculous charges.'
Frankly, Bella agreed with him.
Judge Schwartz frowned, his florid face a study in irritation, and after several moments of back and forth sniping between the prosecutor and the defense attorney, he finally groused, waving his hand over the podium. 'Enough,' he pronounced. 'Time served and a thousand dollar fine.'
He banged the gavel and gave the defendant a hard look. 'Mr. Santos, don't let me see you in my court again. Case dismissed.'
Santos shrugged inelegantly. His attorney whispered again in his ear while the bailiff removed him to the back of the courtroom to await the short return to the jail and his imminent release. Bella waited impatiently through the tedious process, alternately pacing the sidewalk and sitting in the small lobby. She didn't want to miss the opportunity to confront Santos head on.
When he finally exited through the chain link fence, Bella quickly blocked the way. 'Mr. Santos, I'm Isabella Torres. I'd like a word with you.'
The black, flat eyes slid over her with less concern than if she were a fly buzzing round his head. 'See my attorney.'
He moved around her, but she stepped in his way again. He stopped inches from her so she was forced to crane her neck to look up as he towered over her like a teacher over a disobedient student.
Narrowing his eyes, he raked his gaze down her body and up again, as if he were undressing her. No, she
