"Ms Doyle," Simone greeted her flatly. She could have died a happy woman not having to see Rachel's smug, self congratulatory face today of all days. "And it's Chief Weaver if you don't mind." She didn't want her authority undermined anymore that it already had been today.
"That was quite the last minuet win you pulled off back there, convincing the jurry that the evidence was circomstantal. I can't figure out why they bought it, you must be a very convining actress." Simone wasn't in the mood for pretend plesentries, and Rachel Doyle wasn't likely to be hurt by anything she'd say. The woman was made of stone. She had to be to defend the scum she did.