“If she would verify it. She’s clearly been terrified of her father for years. Her husband, too. If she doesn’t wake up from the coma, could this stand as a dying utterance?”

Caitlin’s ambition is like a third person in the car.

“I doubt it. But if you could get it admitted, the circumstances might lend weight to her statements. Except …”

“What?”

“She said her father killed Henry. Didn’t she?”

“Yeah. ‘Mr. Henry,’ she said. Like a little girl.”

“Henry Sexton’s not dead.”

Caitlin shrugs as though this is inconsequential. “I’m sure she meant that Brody ordered the hit on Henry. They did try to kill him, right?”

“Yes, but that’s a big problem, as far as using this recording as trial evidence. It calls everything else she said into question. God, I wish she’d spoken Viola’s name.”

Caitlin turns and stares out at the darkened courthouse. “Are you saying I shouldn’t use it?”

“No. But what are you thinking of doing with it?”

“If this were any other case … I’d go straight over to St. Catherine’s Hospital and interview Brody Royal right now—if he’s even there. That’s what Henry would do, if he could.”

I strive to keep my voice level. “But this isn’t any other case. And given Royal’s past, and what you just did to his daughter—and her husband—that could be suicidal.”

Caitlin whirls on me. “I’m sorry the woman tried to kill herself, okay? But she’s been mentally unstable for years. And I see no reason not to use this recording as the linchpin of tomorrow’s stories.”

I draw back in surprise. “You want to publish the contents of this recording? Tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” she says defiantly.

As I try to think of a way to prevent this, a revolutionary idea comes to me. “You know something? From an evidentiary point of view, that recording has serious problems. But as an existential reality … it’s one hell of a weapon.”

She looks suspicious. “What exactly do you mean?”

“I know you’re focused on tomorrow’s story. But tomorrow is a world away right now. At this moment, Dad and Walt are being hunted as cop killers. Their lives are measured in hours, maybe minutes. The only way to save them is to get that APB revoked. And the only way I can see to do that is to go to the very men who want Dad dead and blamed for Viola’s murder.”

Caitlin’s eyes narrow still further. “Brody? And …?”

“Forrest Knox. Knox issued the APB. They’re the only ones with the stroke to change the public narrative and stop that manhunt.”

“Bullshit! I can change the public narrative. With this recording, and with Henry’s files.”

“Not fast enough to save Dad.”