There was a crowd at the door-spectators in a line trying to get in, and TV cameras with their bright lights, and several grim-faced deputies trying to keep order. Theo’s least favorite deputy in all of Strattenburg was an old grouchy man named Gossett, and, as luck would have it, Gossett saw Theo trying to ease his way through the crowd.

“Where do you think you’re going, Theo?” Gossett growled.

It should be obvious where I’m going, Theo thought quickly to himself. Where else would I be going at this moment, at the beginning of the biggest murder trial in the history of our county? But being a wise guy would not help matters.

Theo whipped out his release from school and said, sweetly, “I have permission from my principal to watch the trial, sir.” Gossett snatched the release and glared at it as if he might have to shoot Theo if his paperwork didn’t measure up. Theo thought about saying, “If you need some help, I’ll read it for you,” but, again, bit his tongue.

Gossett said, “This is from school. This is not a pass to get inside. Do you have permission from Judge Gantry?”

“Yes, sir,” Theo said.

“Let me see it.”

“It’s not in writing. Judge Gantry gave me verbal permission to watch the trial.”

Gossett frowned even harder, shook his head with great authority, and said, “Sorry, Theo. The courtroom is packed. There are no more seats. We’re turning people away.”

Theo took his release and tried to appear as if he might burst into tears. He backtracked, turned around, and headed down the long hallway. When Gossett could no longer see him, he ducked through a narrow door and bounced down a utility staircase, one used only by the janitors and service technicians. On the first floor, he eased along a dark, cramped corridor that ran under the main courtroom above, then stepped nonchalantly into a break room where the courthouse employees gathered for coffee, doughnuts, and gossip.