Material Witness by Lisa Mondello, L. A. Mondello Page B

fight. He’d seen that determined
fire before, knew when the battle was lost and when to back down to it.
    “I can do what I can to make sure
you're treated right—”
    “Oh, really? And how do you plan to
do that?”
    “The FBI is equipped to handle this
type of situation and are ready to do—”
    “Well, I'm not,” she interjected
again. “And I don't like being treated like a piece of steak tossed out and
torn apart by a junk yard dog.”
    Jake wanted to agree with her. He
wanted to say that he had no confidence Charley Tate would care one way or the
other if the FBI treated Cassie right. She wanted her witness to finger Angel
Fagnelio and force him to unload a lot of intimate details of Ritchie
Trumbella's operation.
    Cassie was the ticket to that. Agent
Tate was interested in one thing, and one thing only, and that was furthering
her career. Cassie was the ticket to that as well. And it didn't matter whose
toes she stepped on to keep her pretty patent leather boots clean.
    But it wasn't right for him to inject
his personal feelings about Agent Charlotte Tate on Cassie. Not with so much at
stake. Cassie was the one who had to live with the consequences of what
happened last night and what decisions were made on her behalf now.
    He was just about to say that when
the faraway look in her eyes gave him pause.
    “What is it?”
    “Concurrent jurisdiction,” Cassie
said quietly.
    Jake quirked an eyebrow. He’d
forgotten momentarily that Cassie wasn’t just an ordinary citizen. As a crime
novelist, she had done her homework. He hadn't read any of her books. He hadn't
even heard of her until last night, but he had no doubt she knew what she was
talking about. Hell, even a powerhouse like Martha Landers had read her books.
    “What about it?”
    “Having a deadly shooting in a local
bar—to which I was witness—along with having an FBI agent killed sounds like it
would fall within the guidelines of concurrent jurisdiction, wouldn't it?”
    “It could.”
    “That makes me your witness as well
as the FBI's.” Her face suddenly brightened, as if she'd found the secret piece
of a puzzle no one could solve but her.
    “Technically, yes,” he said.
     Being involved in a barroom shooting
would tilt anyone’s world on its axis. But Cassie wasn't sitting back and
playing the wounded victim. She was taking the bull by the horns and wrestling
it to the ground.
    Lost woman, my foot, Jake thought
with admiration. Bertie would love her.
    Cassie leaned forward and placed her
palms on the table. An air of triumph filled her otherwise clouded expression.
For the first time that morning, she looked confident, as if she'd been
struggling for air and finally filled her lungs.
    “Then that settles it.”
    Jake gave a wry chuckle. “It doesn’t
work that way. It may look nice and neat on a piece of paper, Cassie, but
reality works a little different than your crime novels.”
    “How so?”
    “Well, there's the little matter of
the FBI wanting you in their custody.”
    She straightened up and crossed her
arms over her chest. “Neither the FBI or the District Attorney has a hostile
witness. They don't need to arrest me and lock me up to get me to testify
because I'll agree to do that in both cases. The only question now is my
protection until Angel Fagnelio is put behind bars.”
    “Which the FBI seems to want full
control over.”
    “So do I,” she said determinedly.
“And I'm choosing what I know and what I trust.”
    “Bond fraud and the murder of an FBI
agent are a mite bit heavier than a local bar shooting.”
    Abruptly, Cassie dropped into the metal
chair and pulled one leg up to her chest, hugging it with her arms. Her
expression suddenly collapsed. “I just remembered something.”
    “About the case?”
    “No, something from one of the first
books I wrote.”
    Baffled, Jake stared at her blankly.
“What are you talking about?”
    “One of the main characters in the
book was a low ranking member of the mob