A Man of Privilege. Sarah M. Anderson

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      To my grandmothers, Frances, Goldie and Maggie.

      I couldn’t have asked for three stronger women in my life, and for the gifts that each gave me, I’m eternally grateful.

      One

      “Mr. Carlson, Agent Yellow Bird is here with Ms. Touchette.” His assistant’s tone was clipped and professional, giving no clue as to what sort of woman was waiting out there.

      “Thank you.” James’s hand hovered over the old-fashioned intercom switch. The intercom wasn’t his favorite way to communicate with Agnes. Reminded him too much of how his father would bark out orders to the hired help from behind the closed doors of his home office. Luckily, his father wasn’t here.

      And his parents had certainly never stooped to visit him in South Dakota. The sight of this shabby office in the Judicial Building in Pierre, South Dakota, would no doubt send his mother into affected hysterics. In her view, his job here was not the shortest path between the family mansion in Washington, D.C., and the White House. The Carlson family dynasty was mentioned in the same breath as the Kennedys or the Bushes. For as long as he could remember, he had been groomed for a run at the presidency. His parents expected him to do whatever it took to win. It drove them nuts that James insisted on walking the straight-and-narrow path to power instead of letting them open all the doors for him.

      He picked up the photo of Ms. Touchette from his desk. The decade-old mug shot showed a bruised, beaten woman trying to look mean and mostly looking like a dog someone had kicked too many times. Her scarred skin and browned teeth were consistent with those of a meth abuser. She had a hell of a rap sheet—arrests for transporting and delivering drugs, prostitution, breaking and entering. The later arrests, which had occurred almost ten years ago, had taken place at the same time James had been finishing at the top of his class at Georgetown with seven-figure offers from all the top firms.

      His father had expected him to take the highest offer, but James didn’t need the money. His grandfather had left him more than enough, so James had taken an entry-level position with the Department of Justice and earned every single promotion. He was one of the best lawyers in the country not because his mother was rich or his father was powerful, but because he worked hard and followed the rules.

      Not everyone followed the rules. The paper trail on Touchette went cold nine years ago. Either she’d dropped off the face of the earth or gotten better at evading the cops. Both would explain why it had taken Yellow Bird months to track her down. James hoped she’d gotten clean, but he had to remind himself that it didn’t really matter what had happened to her. What mattered was that James needed her. She was an insurance policy in his quest to clean up the courtroom.

      If Yellow Bird hadn’t been out there, James would have let Ms. Touchette sit. Nervous people were easier to manipulate than calm people. But FBI agent Thomas Yellow Bird was no criminal. Half the time, James got the feeling Yellow Bird would drop him with one shot, given the opportunity. The other half, James was sure the man would take a bullet for him. James preferred to stay on the latter side as much as possible. He stood to put on his suit jacket and straighten his tie. “Send Ms. Touchette in, please.”

      Yellow Bird entered, motioning for the woman to follow him. James remained standing—even criminals deserved common courtesy—but when she walked into his office, he did a double take.

      She was not what he was expecting.

      The woman standing before him had long black hair that hung to her shoulders in loose waves, with bangs that swept down low over her left eye. Her skin was a clear, tawny brown and appeared to be scar free. She wore a brown, ankle-length, tiered skirt and a pink tank top, and she clutched a brown leather bag to her side. She was clean, her eyes bright and wary. She’d look good on a witness stand.

      She’d look better in bed.

      Where had that come from? He hadn’t had such an instinctive response to a woman in a while. But it didn’t matter. James shook that inappropriate thought out of his head. She was off-limits. Because she was a potential witness, James couldn’t act on any attraction to her. It was inappropriate, unethical and could get him debarred—not to mention it was the kind of thing his father СКАЧАТЬ