“Then Travis took the phone from him, asked who he was talking to, and the line went dead.”

“That’s a lie,” Travis said loudly.

“The kid’s got a wild imagination.”

“Order,” Vance said, his voice even and formal.

By ten thirty Derek had stepped up to the evidence table in the middle of the room.

Michael went back to his seat beside his brother.

Derek opened a manila folder and spread three big color photos across the wood.

“These are the medical scans and the photos of the bruising from Saint Jude Medical Center,” Derek said in his low, gravelly voice.