Walker (In the Company of Snipers #21) - Irish Winters Page 0,96
the transcript.”
Again, Persia watched Hotrod being escorted into the courtroom. But this time, she wasn’t focused on him as much as the long-legged woman wearing cream-colored designer silk slacks, a slinky mint-green sequined halter top, and Jacki O sunglasses, in the last row of the spectators’ section.
“I didn’t know court-martials were open to the public,” she murmured out of the side of her mouth.
“Only to those with vested interests,” Hans murmured back.
“Like a wife?” Izza asked.
“Or girlfriends and family members, yes,” he answered.
“Which is she?” Persia asked, pointing to the woman in question.
A curious half-smile curled his lips. “She is worth watching. Please continue.”
Well, that was no answer. But Persia watched the woman closer while the proceedings dragged on.
“Crap, where the hell’s Judge’s defense?” Izza asked, her index finger stabbing at NCIS Kroft, “because that jerk isn’t doing a damned thing.” Almost sounded like she was beginning to care.
Hans smiled. So did Persia. If anything, NCIS Kroft looked relaxed. Unruffled by his client’s growing angst. Where Hotrod’s demeanor had changed from professional calm to frustration, Kroft appeared dead from the neck up.
“Who’s that guy?” Izza asked, her fingertip on another officer in dress blues, also sitting at the back of the courtroom.
“I do not know,” Hans answered.
Persia didn’t know either, but whoever that officer was, he was now on her radar.
CO Cudahy called Miss Sunday Night Breeze to the stand.
Persia nearly gagged when Miss Breeze—which sure sounded like a stripper’s name—flounced to the witness box on platform heels with three-inch soles. She was the long-legged woman at the back of the courtroom in those Jacki O sunglasses. Once seated, she removed her shades, raised her right hand to the square, blinked her overly kohl-smudged eyes at Cudahy, then solemnly gushed to “tell the truth, so help me, God.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Izza growled. “That’s his ex? Sounds like Jessica Rabbit.”
Looked like Jessica Rabbit, too, with all that red hair, mascara, and silicone. Her halter top barely held what had to be 44Ds, matched with a too-tiny waist that only made those puppies look bigger. A sick kind of feeling rolled over in Persia’s gut. Hotrod dated a stripper? That was his ex? Had they lived together? What kind of man was he, an idiot? Besides being male, which all by itself explained everything Miss Breeze represented. Sex. Sex. And more sex.
Izza made a funny sound.
“Shut up,” Persia ordered, even as the rock in her gut dropped into a bottomless pit.
“Can’t help it,” Izza mumbled, her fingers on her lips as if she needed to suppress the snotty chuckle emanating from her big mouth. “Sorry, but Navy SEALs have a chick in every port. Everyone knows that.”
Persia wanted to deny the accusation, but SEALs were known for being some of the toughest, rowdiest men on the planet. They fought hard, played harder, and fucked like there was no tomorrow. Which for some of them, there probably wasn’t. They loved to fight, probably started most of the trouble they got into. Probably liked to get down and dirty in other ways, too. Miss Breeze being Walker’s ex, made sense. In the most disgusting, carnal ways. Generally speaking.
“Ladies, please,” Hans whispered. “Listen.”
“Yes, you could say I know Lieutenant Judge,” Jessica Rabbit articulated in her affected cartoon voice. “Least I knew him in the biblical sense of the word, ya know?” She giggled. Even the damned prosecutor grinned at her cutesy response.
Man, how stupid was Hotrod? Miss Breeze dressed suggestively, and had no problem drawing the prosecutor’s attention to her overly abundant cleavage. She talked with her hands and her bright pink fingernails. And fake eyelashes that Persia wanted to rip off her perfectly smudged eyelids, one by one. With pliers.
“You want to kill her, huh?” Izza whispered. “I can tell. I know you do.”
Yes! “No,” Persia replied calmly. “Shush.” Let’s hear what else this lap dancing moron has to say.
“Were you with Lieutenant Judge during the night in question?” Cudahy asked as he approached the witness stand.
“No, sir, but I was with him all day long. It was my day off, and, well, I missed him because he’d just come back from a really long deployment, and well…” She. Giggled. Again! “You know how it is when a woman goes without her man’s attention for too long, don’tcha?”
Cudahy hesitated. Was he seriously considering answering? That hesitation wasn’t included in the transcript. Neither was the stupid gleam in his eye.
Persia looked closer, her chin on her palm now. According to Ember’s record, Walker