“She’s the main administrative assistant at the notary office on Market Street,” Evelyn said, keeping her voice slow and flat.

“And she’s sitting on the bench right outside that door.”

Judge Harrison looked over at the bailiff.

“Bring the witness in.”

The bailiff swung the wooden gate open, and Brenda Cole came up the center aisle in a dark gray sweater pilled at the elbows.

She kept her eyes on the seal painted over the judge’s chair.

Once she’d taken the oath, Brenda sat down in the wooden witness box, clutching the edge of the armrest with both hands.

Her knuckles stood out white against the dark stain.