“Perhaps you would like to tell us.”
Howard shifted in his chair.
Their attorney immediately stood.
“Your Honor, we have no foundation for this photograph. We don’t know when it was taken, who took it, or whether the individual shown is even Mr. Parker.”
My lawyer, Daniel Reed, remained perfectly calm.
“The image came from a security camera belonging to a residence across the street from the Mitchell home. The original file includes a timestamp.”
He handed another document to the clerk.
“Eleven forty-seven p.m.”
The fire had been reported at 12:26.
Thirty-nine minutes later.
Howard stared straight ahead.
Denise looked at him.
Not at the judge.
Not at her lawyer.
At Howard.
And in that tiny movement, I saw something I had never seen before.
Fear.
“Mr. Parker,” the judge said, “were you outside the Mitchell residence on the night of the fire?”
Howard’s attorney stepped forward.
“My client will not answer questions relating to an unrelated criminal matter without counsel—”
