Adrian looked toward his garment bag, clearly visible through the open door to his chambers. He was not wearing the robe. "I didn’t wander in."
The bailiff stopped near the counsel tables, squaring his shoulders. "Stand up."
Adrian’s expression remained perfectly calm. He was an expert at de-escalation; it was a survival skill in both his old neighborhood and his old profession. "Before I do anything, I would like to understand who you believe I am."
"I don’t care who you think you are."
"That is becoming clear."
Keller’s eyes narrowed into slits. "You have five seconds to get out of that chair."
Adrian placed the gavel carefully on the bench. "Mr. Keller, is it?"
The use of his name seemed to spark a new level of suspicion in the bailiff. "How do you know my name?"
"You’re wearing it."
Keller glanced down at his chest as though briefly forgetting the nameplate existed, a flash of embarrassment quickly replaced by anger. He pointed a thick finger at Adrian. "Do not get smart with me. I ask the questions."
CHAPTER 2
Adrian leaned back slightly against the leather chair. The bailiff’s anger did not stem from anything Adrian had actually done. That much was brutally obvious. It came entirely from the picture Keller believed he was seeing: a Black man in a hoodie sitting in a place of supreme authority. Every calm, rational answer Adrian gave was being forcefully crammed into that prejudiced framework.
"I asked how you entered," Keller demanded.
"I used my court access card."
"Show it to me."
"It is in chambers with my wallet."
"Convenient," Keller sneered.
"I can retrieve it."
"Do not move toward chambers."
Adrian paused, allowing a beat of silence to highlight the contradiction. "You have ordered me to leave the chair while also ordering me not to move."
"Stand up and walk toward me."
"Why?"
"So I can detain you."
"For what offense?"
"Trespassing."
"I have authorized access."