“You’re right. But you’ll never prove that. Whatever hair and fiber evidence supported that is obviously gone. Jewel’s deputy friend isn’t going to testify, so that’s the end of this discussion.”

“But . . . you’re telling me Dad’s definitely innocent?”

“Isn’t that the case I’m making in the courtroom?”

“You haven’t done a goddamn thing in the courtroom!”

“Be patient, my brother. The hardest part of anything is waiting. But my day’s coming.”

Dealing with Quentin is beyond exasperating. “By the way, Shad’s about to call some old guy from Ohio to the stand. Any idea who that might be?”

“Possibly.”

That’s clearly all Quentin’s going to give me.

“Are we through, Penn?”

“No. Jewel’s afraid for Dad’s physical safety in Byrd’s jail. So am I.”

“I’ve thought a lot about that, and I’ve discussed it with Tom. We feel like the isolation procedures are sufficient to protect him.”

“You know that’s bullshit. I think we need to call the state attorney general and have him crawl up Billy Byrd’s ass.”

“Don’t do that, Penn.”

“Why not? At least Byrd would be too scared to let anything happen to Dad under that kind of microscope.”

“Byrd’s already under a microscope. Penn, I’ll be frank with you: this case isn’t about any goddamn hair and fiber. You need to let that go.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You don’t know what I know, boy. Now, don’t talk to anybody about what Jewel said. All you’ll accomplish is to put her life at risk. I’ll talk to your father about the security issue, too.”

“Get back to me after you do. I mean tonight, Quentin. If you don’t, I’m calling the AG.”

“Good luck with that. I’m hanging up now.”

And he does.

Chapter 39

By the time I reached home, I only had ten minutes to gobble down a sandwich and give Annie a hug before it was time to head back to the courthouse. Yet again she pleaded to be allowed to accompany us, and behind her I could see that Mia would give almost anything to attend the trial rather than sit in the house behind armed guards. But after Lincoln’s damning testimony about my father’s secret life, I don’t have to take the heat for refusing. My mother tells Annie she’s absolutely forbidden from attending court.

“Ninety percent of what’s being said in that building is lies,” she declares, and neither Jenny nor I challenge her.

Eight minutes later, Tim delivers us to the courthouse steps, where he turns the wheel over to one of his associates and escorts us through the milling throng to our seats inside.