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darkish skin and rich brown eyes. He had a cheery demeanor and a short, chubby build in a herringbone topcoat, like SpongeBob SquarePants with a law degree.
    "I'm Vicki Allegretti," she said, liking Melendez immediately, despite the fact that he was technically the enemy.
    "Boy, you look too young to be an AUSA." Melendez smiled.
    "No, I'm twenty-eight. I'm just short."
    "Ha! You're short and young." Melendez laughed. "Though I gotta admit, I don't know many AUSAs, I'm court appointed on this case." He wriggled out of his topcoat, releasing the scent of a strongly spicy aftershave.
    "Thanks for coming on such short notice."
    "Not at all, glad you called. Trial's just around the corner."
    Eek. Not anymore. "Did you get my proffer letter?" This morning, Vicki had re-sent Melendez the proffer letter that the first AUSA had sent, since it had the necessary signature, namely Strauss's. The letter was a formality, setting forth the govern-ment's request for information and the ground rules for the meeting off the record. She'd had it in the Bristow file and faxed it from home.
    "My secretary confirmed that we got it, thanks." Melendez opened a scratched-up leather briefcase, extracted an accordion file, and closed it again.
    "Think Ms. Bristow feels chatty this morning?"
    "Reheema? Honestly, no." Melendez smiled. "You'll see, Reheema's not the talkative type, but maybe she'll listen to reason. I'll be honest with you, I want her to cooperate, and I told her so." He pushed his briefcase across the dusty Formica table and eased his girth into his bucket chair. "The first AUSA had no luck with her, but he lacked your youthful enthusiasm. Maybe with you being a woman, too, that'll help. You're the same age."
    "Good."
    "Like I told you, I'm court-appointed, so I don't meet a lot of people like her. She's a tough nut. But she has a good heart, and I think she's innocent."
    Vicki knew he'd learn soon enough that Bristow could be behind the murders of three people.
    "And five years is five years. I hate to see her get set up for this."
    "What do you mean? You think someone's setting her up?"
    "Somebody's letting her twist, aren't they? Whoever she bought those guns for, and like you say, anything is possible." Melendez shrugged his heavy shoulders. "I don't know, she won't talk to me. Like I said, I don't usually do this kinda work, but I've never had a client who was so close-mouthed."
    "Is she frightened?" Vicki was considering the possibilities. "Intimidated by someone?"
    "Ha! No way. Reheema doesn't scare easy." Melendez mulled it over, looking idly at Vicki. Suddenly, his dark eyes seemed to sharpen and he focused on her face. "You know, you look a lot like that woman on TV last night. With that murder, on the news?"
    "Uh, yes, that was me." Vicki told herself to act natural. It would have been only a matter of time before he recognized her. The story was all over the papers, TV, and radio this morning.
    "That was you? An FBI agent killed and a pregnant woman?"
    "He was ATF." Vicki's chest felt tight.
    "Je-sus." Melendez looked shocked, his lips parting. "That must have been horrible. What the hell happened?"
    "I can't really say," Vicki answered in her official voice, as a burly ATF agent in a tie and gray blazer appeared at the door to the proffer room.
    "Special delivery," the agent said dryly. Usually, the federal marshals brought up the prisoners, but Vicki had asked the ATF on duty as a favor. He had to know it was related to Morty's death, but she didn't tell, to give him deniability.
    "Thanks," Vicki said, and when the agent stepped aside, Vicki did a double take at the sight of the shackled prisoner.
    Reheema Bristow didn't look at all the way Vicki had expected.

SEVEN

    Vicki had been expecting a street tough, but Reheema Bristow looked like a black model, albeit on steroids. She had stunning features; large almond eyes of an unusual caramel-brown, a longish nose, and a broad mouth, which was sensual, if unsmiling. She wore