This was only the third time David had been to Fort Gaspar’s federal courthouse, a desolate brick building where only two judges heard all civil and criminal cases arising under the laws of the United States—or, as in David’s case, disputes over a lot of money between citizens of different states. “Is this your bag?” the marshal asked. David nodded. The marshal opened the bag and pulled out David’s BlackBerry. “You can’t bring cell phones into this building.” Another annoying federal rule. “My pretrial starts in ten minutes,” he said. “I don’t have time to return to the office.” “He can put it in my locker.” David knew the voice before he turned around and saw Beth speeding through another security lane reserved for courthouse employees and government attorneys. “Good morning, Ms. Connor.” The marshal greeted her with a smile. She took the BlackBerry from the guard and waited for David. “This way,” she said, and he followed her to a small carousel of lockers.
