Bulletproof Hearts. Brenda Harlen

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 he’s a junkie who deals to support his own habit, and he’s terrified by the possibility of spending any amount of time in jail—away from his supply. If we get a conviction on this, he’ll give us Conroy.”

      “Maybe,” she allowed. “If he can.”

      He raised his eyebrows.

      “If Conroy’s influence is as extensive as you believe, he must inspire a great deal of loyalty—or fear.”

      “Both,” he agreed.

      “And it seems unlikely that someone like Merrick—a small-time local dealer—would even have met the man.”

      “Unlikely,” he agreed. “Except that Conroy’s younger sister dated Merrick a few years back—a fact which didn’t make Conroy any too happy.”

      “Why did he allow Merrick to continue working for him?”

      Creighton shrugged. “Some men will go to extreme lengths to please the women in their lives.”

      “Are you speaking from experience, Lieutenant?” It was a personal question and certainly not one she’d planned to ask, but it seemed his presence was interfering with the normal functioning of her brain as well as her hormones.

      He only smiled again. “I was talking about Conroy—he and his sister are supposedly very close,” he explained. “But this is Merrick’s second arrest in less than a year, and Conroy has little tolerance for mistakes in his organization. That’s why I believe Merrick is the key to bringing him down.”

      “Then let’s get started.” Natalie opened the file, eager to focus on something other than the lieutenant’s broad shoulders, too-blue eyes and killer smile.

      Even if she wasn’t susceptible, there was no point in tempting fate.

      When Dylan finally left Natalie’s office more than an hour later, it was with a grudging respect for the young prosecutor. And she was young. Thirty-one years old with