Marcus left.
Evelyn remained beside the bench.
"Your Honor," she whispered, "I didn't access anything."
"I believe you."
She looked relieved.
Then Whitmore continued.
"But someone wanted me to believe you did."
Evelyn stared at him.
"Why?"
"Because they wanted me looking at you instead of them."
The judge opened the case file.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
A handwritten note.
Three words.
CHECK THE DOCKET.
Whitmore had seen the same handwriting once before.
Years earlier.
During a murder trial.
He remembered the case because the handwriting belonged to a court reporter who had later disappeared from the state.
He had always wondered why.
Now he suspected he knew.
The courthouse doors opened.
A group of attorneys entered.
Among them was Charles Vance.
Meridian Development's lead attorney.
He was a polished man in his fifties, always perfectly dressed, always smiling.
When he saw Whitmore behind the bench, his smile disappeared for half a second.
It was barely noticeable.
But Whitmore noticed.
"Good morning, Judge," Vance said.
"Good morning."