Free Enright Family Collection by Mariah Stewart

out for your birthday.” Corri clapped her hands excitedly.
    “My birthday?” India repeated, then recalled the date. “It is my birthday. I’d forgotten.”
    She made her way through the thinning crowd to hug Corri to her, closing her eyes for a moment of solace as the child’s thin arms wrapped tightly around her neck.
    “Aunt August told me it was your birthday, so we brought you dinner and a cake.” Corri beamed.
    “Where is Aunt August?” India searched for her in the still-crowded courtroom.
    “She couldn’t come. She had a migrate,” Corri announced, “but Nick said we couldn’t let you celebrate your birthday alone, so he brought me.”
    “You mean a migraine?” India frowned. It seemed thather aunt’s headaches were increasing in frequency. She wondered if Dr. Noone had been consulted.
    “I offered to bring Corri because she had her heart set on surprising you,” Nick explained.
    “Nick, this is really very sweet …”
    “I hope that isn’t a but I detect.” Nick lowered his voice and leaned closer to her. “Corri would really be disappointed, Indy.”
    “No, no, of course not,” she assured him. She had planned to stay up half the night to go over today’s proceedings, but she would have the rest of the weekend for that. Tonight she would put it aside and be with Corri. And Nick. “I’m just so surprised, that’s all. I didn’t even realize it was my birthday, I’ve been so wrapped up in this trial. But I’m delighted, truly. Just let me get my things. And Corri, you can help me carry—”
    She stopped in midsentence. Corri stood all but frozen, facing the front of the courtroom, her gaze held fast by the man in prison blues. Axel grinned meaningfully with the eyes of a son of Satan.
    “Nick, take Corri out into the hallway. I’ll meet you there.” India practically shoved the girl into Nick’s arms. “Please.”
    She turned and walked toward the defendant’s table, too enraged to speak.
    “That your little girl, Madame Prosecutor?” Axel drawled as he was pulled to his feet by the bailiff. “She’s a pretty little thing.”
    “Don’t even look at her,” India hissed like a maddened viper across the defense table, “or you won’t have to wait until the jury convicts you. I’ll rip your heart out myself.”
    Axel laughed as he shuffled toward the side door, where he’d be loaded into a van and returned to his cell until Monday morning.
    Shaking from head to foot with the raw terror that washed over her with all the force of an unforeseen tidal wave, India folded her arms across her chest and sought to control her breathing. She forced her feet to carry her back to the prosecutor’s table, where, with trembling hands, she began to pick up stacks of paper and shove them mindlessly into folders.
    “India, my God, what is it?” Herbie Caruthers took the papers from her hands. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
    “For a moment, I guess I thought I had.” India dropped into a chair and rested her head in her hands.
    “Here.” Herbie handed her a glass of water. “Are you okay?”
    She sipped at the water, which had grown tepid as the day progressed and the chips of ice melted in the warmth of a sunny, late September afternoon.
    “I’m good. Thanks.”
    “Look, how ’bout if I take this stuff back to the office for you,” Herbie said, packing up their case documents, “and I’ll meet you in the conference room in an hour and we’ll go over today’s testimony.”
    “It’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning,” she told him, her composure slowly returning. “I have a birthday to celebrate.”
    “Since when has a minor detail like a birthday come between you and a big case?”
    “Since now.” She thought of Corri’s little upturned face, so filled with the joy of having a surprise for Indy. India couldn’t remember the last time anyone had offered her so great a gift. She had no intention of disappointing the child.
    India gathered her