Free Sinclair (Acquisition Series) by Celia Aaron Page B

she?
    The woman across from me smiled. “Hold your hand out.”
    I shook so hard my teeth chattered. “N-no.”
    “Sinclair, put your hand on the table.” Her voice darkened. “Now.”
    I swallowed hard and placed my hand on the edge of the table. She reached across and yanked it so I was leaning over, my arm outstretched. My tears plopped onto the dark wood beneath me.
    She plucked a sugar cane leaf and felt along the stiff side. As she slid her finger down the sharp edge, red welled up from a smooth cut on her fingertip.
    She smiled and placed her other hand, palm down, next to mine. “Now, let’s begin.”
     
     
     
     

 
     
    CHAPTER TWO
     
     
    Present
     
    “ H AVE YOU HEARD WHO’S gotten picked for this year?” Judge Montagnet sipped his bourbon, his black robe open as he lounged in his chambers.
    I pulled on my sleeves, ensuring that my cuff links were perfectly turned.
    “No, Judge, I sure haven’t. Should be an interesting year with Cal in charge.” I smiled. It was mechanical. Sometimes I would have to actively think about how a normal person would react to a statement or an action, and then attempt to mold my response in the same fashion.
    “I really can’t wait. Christmas trial is always my favorite. Did you attend during the year Cal won?” He shifted his hips higher, the law clerk between his legs making sloppy noises as he bobbed his head on the judge’s cock.
    “No, I’m afraid to say the sugar business called me away to foreign lands quite a bit that year.” I finished my bourbon and set the glass on the polished wood table to my right.
    Judge Montagnet closed his eyes and gripped the young man’s head, pulling him close. After a series of choking noises and some low grunts from the judge, it was over. The law clerk sat back, sputtering and gasping for air. He wiped his sleeve across his eyes, and it came away wet with tears.
    No pity for him welled in my deadened heart. I had no concept of what that word even meant. Was it a feeling? A thought? I was better off without it, not that I had a choice in the matter. I couldn’t miss something I’d never experienced in the first place.
    Boredom swirled around me, and I wanted to get the hearing over with as soon as possible. As the district attorney for the parish, I had to prosecute all criminal offenses while Judge Montagnet made a show of presiding over the trials. The job only became fun when I found a really nasty rat and made him squeal.
    Luckily, I’d found just such a rat in Leon Rousseau. His arraignment was set on the docket, and I had big plans to investigate every scrap of paper and every dime flowing to and from his accounts. Making his life a living hell would amuse me for a time, at least until I found something better.
    Judge Montagnet zipped up and patted the law clerk on the head. “Good work. Run along now and let them know I’ll be on the bench in a moment.”
    The clerk stood, crimson painting his cheeks, and left.
    “I guess that’s my cue.” I rose as the judge straightened his robes and smoothed his white hair.
    “I’ll see you out there. Anyone you want me to roast today?”
    I smirked. “I think I can handle the roasting at the moment. You’ve had all the fun so far. Now it’s my turn.”
    He smiled, his wrinkles turning his thin skin into accordions around his mouth. “I sure have.”
    I fastened my top coat button and strode out into the courtroom. The bailiff nodded at me as I skirted the bench and headed toward the counsel tables. The public defender had already set up his files on his side. My side was bare. I knew my cases; no files necessary.
    I scanned the gallery behind the short wooden wall separating the front and back of the courtroom. Leon Rousseau sat and stared at me with his beady eyes. But he wasn’t what caught my attention. I didn’t break my step, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the redhead sitting beside him.
    Her head was bowed, and she wore a black suit, the skirt too long