[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Marquez assured her.
“I‟ll bet that judge is feeling bad about now,” Bentley muttered.
“The judge did feel bad,” Marquez agreed. “So did the district attorney, especially after Frank and his
cohorts beat up your brother. The whole justice system here in San Antonio went into overdrive to
catch the perp.”
“Really?” Cappie asked, surprised.
“Really. The assistant district attorney who prosecuted your case was in the vanguard.”
“Somebody needs to take him out for a big steak dinner,” Cappie commented.
“I‟m taking him out for one, at my mother‟s café in Jacobsville,” he chuckled. “Of course, he‟s
eligible and so is my mother.”
“I see wheels turning in your head,” Cappie said.
He grinned. “Always,” Marquez said easily. “He and I have worked several cases together. I like him.”
“Me, too,” Cappie said. She hesitated. “Frank won‟t get out until the trial, will he?”
Marquez shook his head. “The assistant D.A. is having the bond set in the six-figure range. I don‟t
think Frank knows a bail bondsman who‟ll take a chance on him for that amount of money.”
“Let‟s hope not,” Bentley said.
Marquez gave him a keen glance. “He‟ll probably stay in jail voluntarily, to keep from having you
come at him again. That was some tackle.”
Bentley shrugged. “I used to play football in college.”
“I played soccer. Don‟t get to do much tackling, but I can knock a ball half a block with my head.”
“Is that why it looks that way?” a familiar voice drawled from the cubicle doorway.
“Kilraven,” Marquez grumbled, “will you stop stalking me?”
“I‟m not stalking you,” the tall man said easily. “I‟m just waiting for you to answer my ten phone
calls, six voice mails and twenty e-mails.” He glowered at the younger man.
Marquez held up his hands. “Okay. Just let me finish up with Miss Drake and Dr.
Rydel and I‟ll be right with you. Honest.”
“No hurry,” Kilraven said, smiling. “I‟ll be standing right out here, intimidating lawbreakers.”
“Thanks for looking out for Kell,” Cappie told him.
“What are friends for?” he asked.
“How would you know, Kilraven, you don‟t have any friends,” a passing detective drawled.
“I have lots of friends!”
“Oh, yeah? Name one.”
“Marquez!”
“He‟s your friend?” the detective asked Marquez, sticking his head into the cubicle.
“He is not,” Marquez said without looking up as he glanced over the statements one last time.
“I am so,” Kilraven said in a surly tone.
Marquez gave him a speaking glance.
Kilraven moved back out of the cubicle, muttering to himself in some foreign language.
“I know what that means in Arabic,” Marquez called after him. “Your brother speaks Farsi fluently
and he taught me what those words mean!”
A rolling barrage in yet another language came lilting into the cubicle.
“What‟s that?” Marquez asked.
Kilraven poked his head in and grinned. “Lakota. And Jon can‟t teach you that—he doesn‟t speak it.
Ha!”
He left.
Marquez grimaced.
“He‟s really very nice,” Cappie said.
Marquez leaned toward her. “He is, but I‟m not saying it out loud.” His expression became somber.
“I‟m working on a cold case with him and another detective,” he said quietly. “It involves him. He‟s
impatient, because we got a new lead.”
Bentley nodded quietly. “I know about that one. One of my vet techs is married to the best friend of
our local sheriff. I hear most of what‟s going on.”
“Tragic case,” Marquez agreed. “But hopefully we‟re going to crack it.”
Bentley got to his feet, tugging Cappie up with him. He winced as she turned toward him.
“I appreciate the copies of those X-rays,” Marquez added, walking out with them.
“Everything we can throw against Bartlett will help put him away.”
“He‟d better hope he never gets out,” Cappie said. “My brother will be waiting for him if he does.”
Marquez chuckled. “If it hadn‟t been three to one against, and your brother hadn‟t been in a
wheelchair, I‟d probably be helping defend him on homicide charges.”
“No doubt,” Bentley replied somberly.
Cappie frowned. “Is there a conversation going on that I don‟t know anything about?”
she asked.
Bentley and Marquez exchanged covert glances. “Just commenting on your brother‟s justifiable
anger,” Bentley told her easily. He caught her fingers in his. “Let‟s go see your brother and tell him
he‟s about to have a new brother-in-law.”
Kell was a little better, until he saw Cappie‟s face. He swore brilliantly. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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Marquez assured her.
“I‟ll bet that judge is feeling bad about now,” Bentley muttered.
“The judge did feel bad,” Marquez agreed. “So did the district attorney, especially after Frank and his
cohorts beat up your brother. The whole justice system here in San Antonio went into overdrive to
catch the perp.”
“Really?” Cappie asked, surprised.
“Really. The assistant district attorney who prosecuted your case was in the vanguard.”
“Somebody needs to take him out for a big steak dinner,” Cappie commented.
“I‟m taking him out for one, at my mother‟s café in Jacobsville,” he chuckled. “Of course, he‟s
eligible and so is my mother.”
“I see wheels turning in your head,” Cappie said.
He grinned. “Always,” Marquez said easily. “He and I have worked several cases together. I like him.”
“Me, too,” Cappie said. She hesitated. “Frank won‟t get out until the trial, will he?”
Marquez shook his head. “The assistant D.A. is having the bond set in the six-figure range. I don‟t
think Frank knows a bail bondsman who‟ll take a chance on him for that amount of money.”
“Let‟s hope not,” Bentley said.
Marquez gave him a keen glance. “He‟ll probably stay in jail voluntarily, to keep from having you
come at him again. That was some tackle.”
Bentley shrugged. “I used to play football in college.”
“I played soccer. Don‟t get to do much tackling, but I can knock a ball half a block with my head.”
“Is that why it looks that way?” a familiar voice drawled from the cubicle doorway.
“Kilraven,” Marquez grumbled, “will you stop stalking me?”
“I‟m not stalking you,” the tall man said easily. “I‟m just waiting for you to answer my ten phone
calls, six voice mails and twenty e-mails.” He glowered at the younger man.
Marquez held up his hands. “Okay. Just let me finish up with Miss Drake and Dr.
Rydel and I‟ll be right with you. Honest.”
“No hurry,” Kilraven said, smiling. “I‟ll be standing right out here, intimidating lawbreakers.”
“Thanks for looking out for Kell,” Cappie told him.
“What are friends for?” he asked.
“How would you know, Kilraven, you don‟t have any friends,” a passing detective drawled.
“I have lots of friends!”
“Oh, yeah? Name one.”
“Marquez!”
“He‟s your friend?” the detective asked Marquez, sticking his head into the cubicle.
“He is not,” Marquez said without looking up as he glanced over the statements one last time.
“I am so,” Kilraven said in a surly tone.
Marquez gave him a speaking glance.
Kilraven moved back out of the cubicle, muttering to himself in some foreign language.
“I know what that means in Arabic,” Marquez called after him. “Your brother speaks Farsi fluently
and he taught me what those words mean!”
A rolling barrage in yet another language came lilting into the cubicle.
“What‟s that?” Marquez asked.
Kilraven poked his head in and grinned. “Lakota. And Jon can‟t teach you that—he doesn‟t speak it.
Ha!”
He left.
Marquez grimaced.
“He‟s really very nice,” Cappie said.
Marquez leaned toward her. “He is, but I‟m not saying it out loud.” His expression became somber.
“I‟m working on a cold case with him and another detective,” he said quietly. “It involves him. He‟s
impatient, because we got a new lead.”
Bentley nodded quietly. “I know about that one. One of my vet techs is married to the best friend of
our local sheriff. I hear most of what‟s going on.”
“Tragic case,” Marquez agreed. “But hopefully we‟re going to crack it.”
Bentley got to his feet, tugging Cappie up with him. He winced as she turned toward him.
“I appreciate the copies of those X-rays,” Marquez added, walking out with them.
“Everything we can throw against Bartlett will help put him away.”
“He‟d better hope he never gets out,” Cappie said. “My brother will be waiting for him if he does.”
Marquez chuckled. “If it hadn‟t been three to one against, and your brother hadn‟t been in a
wheelchair, I‟d probably be helping defend him on homicide charges.”
“No doubt,” Bentley replied somberly.
Cappie frowned. “Is there a conversation going on that I don‟t know anything about?”
she asked.
Bentley and Marquez exchanged covert glances. “Just commenting on your brother‟s justifiable
anger,” Bentley told her easily. He caught her fingers in his. “Let‟s go see your brother and tell him
he‟s about to have a new brother-in-law.”
Kell was a little better, until he saw Cappie‟s face. He swore brilliantly. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]