Michael handed a printed sheet to the bailiff.

The paper made its way up to the bench.

Vance put his reading glasses back on and studied the timestamps.

“This shows an incoming call at two o’clock exactly,” Vance said.

“Noah called me on his speed dial,” Michael said.

“He was hiding in the kitchen pantry at the time.”

Travis leaned over and whispered something in his lawyer’s ear.

He kept his hands jammed deep in his coat pockets.