I saw Castille's slicked-back hair as soon as I stepped into the courtroom. He was sitting in the front pew. Evan sat next to him. Her hair flowed down her back in loose waves. She wore a dark suit, pinstriped and sleek. I couldn't see all of her, but imagined she was wearing a tight skirt to match.
She leaned over to him and whispered in his ear. I found myself imagining putting a vicious hurt on the greased son of a bitch, and not just because he was a piece of shit a dozen times over. It was because her lips were so close to him. Too close. I wanted to push them apart and give him a beatdown. But I didn't do things like that. Not anymore, at least. I swallowed my anger.
As Wood and I strolled past and sat at one of the counsel tables, I confirmed my earlier suspicion. Tight skirt, almost too short, and black high heels. Lord, she knew how to dress to show off her assets.
Castille glanced up at me before darting his focus elsewhere, anywhere but back in my direction. We'd met during my investigation. His New Orleans lawyer never let him tell me anything, but I'd subpoenaed every last shred of paper from him, searched his house, raided his banks, and gone through the entirety of his slimy existence with a magnifying glass. His criminal ambitions had been the primary subject matter of my life for the past year.
Evan gave him a pat on the arm before rising and coming to the other counsel table.
"Evan." Wood nodded.
She smiled at him and sat as far away from us as possible. "Hey, Wood."
She crossed her legs at the knee, pulling the fabric of her skirt taut across the tops of her thighs. The shade in the middle of the triangle created by her legs drew my eye. I remembered what her wet curls looked like at her cleft. I couldn't allow my thoughts to stray too far in that direction. Getting a literal hard-on for justice was frowned upon in the profession.
"Good to see you, Evan," I said over the growing din of other lawyers.
"Lincoln."
The ice in her tone had Wood shaking his head at me. His elbow met me hard in the ribs.
"What did I tell you about her?" he whispered. Well, it was approaching a whisper, possibly just a series of grunts.
"You told me she was a man-eater. I took that as an encouragement."
Wood threw his pen down on the table and laughed.
Evan leaned back in her swiveling counsel chair and gave us a look that would have killed anyone else. The dark triangle between her knees widened a bit as she moved, almost giving me a glimpse of what I'd already tasted, what I wanted to taste again and again.
The door opened behind the bench, and Judge Crane entered. She had the air of a wise old owl, set off perfectly by her horn-rimmed glasses. Without much fanfare, she got right down to the particulars of each case. The docket ran quickly. Multistate drug dealers, illegal immigrants, felons in possession-one by one the defendants pled not guilty. At the very end of the list were the white-collar criminals. A few more not-guilty pleas and then it was Castille's turn.
Evan and I stood, squared off against each other even in this brief proceeding. "Judge, Mr. Castille is pleading not guilty to the charges and looks forward to having his day in court to dispute these spurious accusations."
The judge looked over her glasses at Evan and said in a bored tone, "Noted, Ms. Pallida."
Clearly, this wasn't her first brush with Evan.
"Judge, I'd also like to move for disqualification of Lincoln Granade from the prosecution of this case."
I want to say I had some inkling she might try this. I didn't. This sort of a disqualification challenge simply wasn't done without a heads-up from counsel beforehand. She wasn't following the unwritten rules of the profession. Shots fired.
"Ms. Pallida, as you are aware, this is a proceeding for pleas, not for arguments about disqualification. This matter hasn't been briefed, and I'm certain Mr. Granade is not prepared to argue this today. No doubt he'd like a chance to respond to your arguments in the normal course of business instead of this ambush."
Evan smirked at me. Just a little quirk of her lip and a side eye to go with it.
I dropped my legal pad on the desk. "Judge, I'd be more than happy to take this up on the fly."
The smirk faltered a hair.
"What are the grounds?" I aimed my question at Evan. She ignored me.
Evan walked to the middle of the well, standing right before the bench, and addressed the judge directly. She was at ease there in the center of the room, taking the spotlight away from the judge and letting the glow rest solely on herself. She knew how to work the floor and put on a show. I followed her into the well and leaned against the jury box, arms crossed.