The Traitor

John Sanderson, who normally filled the desk clerk duties, had taken temporary command of the sheriff's office since neither Slater nor Harris had recovered sufficiently to resume his duties. Sanderson arranged for extra guards to be assigned at all the courthouse entrances.

After Santos had been patted down, carefully searched for weapons, and secretly admitted through a side entrance, he was led past the metal detectors to the stairs leading to Bella's office on the second floor. She was determined no one would know about the clandestine meeting with Diego Vargas' second in command.

Two armed guards stood at attention outside her office along with Sanderson. His bald head gleamed wetly in the overhead lights while his ebony face reflected his disapproval of Santos' presence in his precinct.

After the formalities, the two attorneys measured one another across the expanse of Bella's desk. She retrieved a sheet of paper from a military green file folder and slid it carefully across the desk. Santos relaxed in the comfortable arm chair as if he hadn't a care in the world.

He narrowed his eyes and reached for the paper, never looking down, but piercing her with a sharp, cunning appraisal. 'What is this?' he asked.

'The terms of your plea bargain agreement.' Bella leaned back in her desk chair, her elbows on the arm rests, her fingertips bouncing lightly against one another. She had taken the death penalty off the table.

Like yesterday, she was oddly lacking in fear around Santos, even though a general air of malevolence hung around him like a carnivorous bird of prey. She'd recovered from the shock of seeing Maria's photo, and today she felt in control. She recognized the last rolling momentum of the case against Diego Vargas and knew it would lead to a triumphant end.

Santos would not refuse the deal.

She didn't know why she was so certain of this. Perhaps it was the pallor that showed beneath his dark skin or the erratic drumming of his long fingers on the desk that made her sure.

Something had tipped the scales in her favor and Santos was ready to cut a deal. He had made the first overture. He had shown her the photo.

When she'd called him this morning, she had detected an unfamiliar air of resignation in his voice.

'ADA Torres.' His gravelly, formal voice had wafted over the phone line. 'Verdad. I had just intended to call you.'

'Really?' Bella forced coolness into her voice, desperately wanting to maintain control. 'I'm glad to have saved you the trouble, Mr. Santos.'

His deep rumble over the phone line sent chills down her spine and reminded her of Rafe's warning that she was dealing with a dangerous animal. To her surprise Santos had readily acquiesced to joining her here, on her home ground, instead of his own territory. She wondered briefly what story he'd spun for Diego Vargas, or if he'd kept the clandestine appointment a secret from everyone.

'He thinks I am conferring with some of our associates,' Santos offered as if he had read her mind. 'Import associates.'

She didn't pretend not to understand the tacit admission of drug dealing. Or that he kept secrets from Diego Vargas. 'That was judicious of you.'

Santos barked out a sound that was a cross between mirth and menace. 'Ay, I am a wise man.'

She nodded and waited for him to pick up the paper lying on the desk in front of him. When he did, he read the document with what seemed deliberate languor.

'And since I am a wise man,' he continued, 'not given to foolish bargains, tell me, Ms. Torres, why should I consider this offer?' He dropped the paper and waved a negligent hand over it, conveying the paltry insignificance of her carefully-constructed agreement.

So he wanted to play games first? Bella tightened her lips. 'It's a good deal. You should consider it.'

Plea bargaining on felony charges was a tricky negotiation at best, much like bartering in an Egyptian bazaar. She made an offer, he countered, and they parried and thrust until they came to mutual agreement.

He surprised her with his next words. 'A good deal, but not an excellent one.'

She allowed a modicum of impatience to show in her expression. 'Mr. Santos, if my office brings charges against you, they will likely be multiple counts of murder, conspiracy, and drug trafficking, not to mention kidnapping and human trafficking.'

'Charges you cannot prove,' he countered.

'Maybe, maybe not.' She waffled her fingers in a so-so gesture. 'But I think you want something more than exoneration from the charges.'

She leaned forward across the desk and lowered her voice, navigating solely on instinct. 'I think Diego Vargas is out of control and you'd like to rein him back into the parameters of sanity.'

'Bueno, for one so young, you are very sure of yourself, but Diego is El Vaquero. I am merely his lieutenant.'

'I doubt you have ever been merely anything.'

He nodded in acknowledgement of the veiled compliment.

Bella pushed back from the desk and swung her legs around to the side before rising. She turned her back to Santos and gazed out the wide expanse of her office window to the courthouse lawn below. She would not be the first to mention the picture.'What would you consider an excellent deal?' she asked reflectively.

'Complete immunity,' Santos replied without hesitation.

She spun around, ready to show her scorn, and bumped into the wide, iron behemoth of his body. He'd approached her unawares.

'You're joking,' she said breathily as she retreated a step and crossed her arms in front of her.

His scarred face remained impassive. 'I never jest about money or prison time.'

'There's no way I can grant you complete immunity.'

'Naturalmente. But of course you can.'

'What are you offering?'

But she already knew. He was offering something so much more important to her than convicting Vargas. And the thought of it nearly made her weep.

Santos turned silently to glance at Sanderson still leaning against the wall, his hand resting on his revolver. He jerked his head toward the deputy, a clear indication that he wouldn't speak further with someone else in the room.

Within seconds of Sanderson leaving the office, Bella's desk phone rang. She stared stupidly at it for several moments, hating to break her rhythm by answering it.

Santos nodded toward the jarring sound. 'You should answer the telephone, counselor.' He rose and patted his jacket pockets. 'I will step outside to have a cigarillo and give you privacy.'

Bella grabbed the receiver. 'No smoking in public buildings,' she said automatically to his retreating back.

Santos smiled, his large white teeth flashing in his scarred face. 'But of course. I would not want to be charged with so significant a misdemeanor.' He stepped quietly into the hall and closed the door softly behind him.

'Hello, hello,' Rafe's voice sounded faintly over the line before Bella lifted the receiver to her ear.

'Hi,' she breathed into the phone, happy to hear his voice, grateful to get a break from the oppressive weight of Santos standing inches within her personal space.

'You sound flustered. Is everything okay?' Rafe asked.

'Yeah, well, sort of.'

'Is Santos still there?'

'He stepped out for a minute.' She hesitated and then plunged on. 'He's going to be a hard nut to crack.' She hadn't told him how Santos had shown her a photo of Maria, and wondered why she'd kept this from him.

'I'll come right over.' His voice was decisive and she knew he'd rush right in and fracture the fragile progress she was making with Santos.

'No, no, it'll be fine.'

A heavy pause hung weightily, dead space over the line.

Rafe cleared his throat. 'Okay, then. Well, I called to let you know I'm going to stay with Max for a while.'