With the trial going on right now, as soon as they came up with the evidence, they’d be able to burst into the courtroom and prove both her innocence and their genius on live TV. There was only one problem. In all the weeks the trial dragged on, Shawn and Gus found nothing. Not one thing that would undercut the prosecution’s claim. Now both sides had presented their cases, the jury had deliberated, and the verdict was due to be announced this morning. In a matter of minutes, their client was going to be sentenced to life in prison, and Shawn and Gus were going to lose their only chance for a payday.

Gus made a hard right onto Anacapa Street and saw the fake Spanish-Moorish palace that was the Santa Barbara courthouse. Shawn pointed at an empty space right in front of the steps.

“Park there,” he said.

“It’s red,” Gus said, scanning the street ahead for another space. There was nothing.

“We’re here for five minutes, you’re not going to get a ticket.”

“We’re right in front of the courthouse.”

“And no one’s going to be stupid enough to park in a red zone where he knows there are going to be cops coming and going all day, right?” Shawn said.

“Right,” Gus said.

“So why would meter maids even bother to patrol here?” Shawn threw his door open and jumped out of the car. “You coming?”

With a heavy sense of foreboding, Gus slid the Echo into the red zone, locked his door, and followed Shawn across the flagstones through the whitewashed archway and past a pair of heavy wooden doors. By the time Gus caught up with him, Shawn was standing in the vaulted hallway, frozen outside the door to courtroom number three.

“Something wrong?” Gus asked.

“Just going over the plan one last time,” Shawn said. “Making sure every piece is in place. Every angle is covered. Every contingency is

… contingencied.”

“Great,” Gus said. “What is the plan?”