After everyone was served, Theo, his parents, and the other volunteers had a quick dinner in the kitchen. Some of the volunteers began washing dishes and storing the leftovers. The Boones drifted away. Mrs. Boone went to her little room to meet with clients. Mr. Boone set up shop in a corner and began reviewing Medicare forms for an elderly couple.

Theo was tutoring a fourth grader in math when his cell phone vibrated. It was Julio. Theo excused himself and stepped outside where he could talk. Julio explained that he had just talked to Bobby. He was hiding in an apple orchard far from town, in an old warehouse where other undocumented workers were living. The police had stopped by once, but the workers knew how to avoid them. He was in the process of arranging a ride back to Texas where he would recross the border and head home.

“Did you tell him he needs to stay and to testify tomorrow?” Theo asked, though he knew the answer.

“No, Theo, I did not. Bobby’s gone.”

Later, when they were home and Theo was getting ready for bed, he told his parents about the phone call.

His father said, “Well, tomorrow should be a very interesting day in court.”

Theo replied, “I think I should be there.” Though he was telling himself he had no interest in the trial and didn’t care what happened, he couldn’t deny the truth.

“And why is that?” his mother asked.

“Come on, Mom. Why can’t you admit that you and Dad and every other lawyer in this town would love to be in court when Jack Hogan is forced to announce that his star witness has disappeared? Talk about high drama. Clifford Nance will go nuts and jump up and down demanding a mistrial. There’ll be a big fight, everybody yelling, everybody shocked at what’s happening. You know you would love to see that.”

“I’m very busy tomorrow, Teddy, and so are you. You’ve missed enough school and—”

“I know, I know. But school is so boring. I’m thinking about dropping out.”

“Might be a bit tough getting into law school if you don’t finish middle school,” his father observed wisely.

“Good night,” Theo said, already headed for the stairs with Judge at his heels. He locked himself in his room, stretched out on his bed, and stared at the ceiling. There was only one thing left to do and he’d thought about it all afternoon. The idea was to send Bobby a text, a final, desperate plea to do what was right. He was convinced he could do it and not get caught. Bobby wouldn’t tell anyone; in fact, Bobby was probably racing across the country now, stuffed in the back of a truck full of apples headed for Texas.

Or maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was still hiding, and his only means of contact was his cell phone.

Theo opened his laptop and wrote a message: Hi Bobby, Theo here. The trial is almost over. Tomorrow is very important. And we need you to be here. You will be safe and you will do a great job in court. Please come back. Your friend, Theo.

He pulled up a Spanish dictionary and began translating. Madame Monique always said that language learners make the mistake of trying to translate word for word, but at the moment, Theo had no choice. He tinkered with it for half an hour, certain it was full of little mistakes, then punched it into his cell phone. He hesitated, knowing he was doing something wrong, but sent it anyway.

After an hour of fidgeting and tossing, he finally fell asleep.

Theo awoke, well rested and ready for the day. In the shower, he thought about Bobby, but managed to dismiss all thoughts of the trial.

As he was getting dressed, he thought about Jack Hogan, but managed to dismiss all thoughts of the trial.

As he fixed two bowls of Cheerios, he thought about Pete Duffy, but managed to dismiss all thoughts of the trial.

As he was riding his bike to school, he crossed Main Street and saw the courthouse in the distance, but he managed to dismiss all thoughts of the trial.

As he was listening to Madame Monique talk about Spanish adjectives, he thought about his last text message to Bobby. Of course, there had been no response. But he managed to dismiss all thoughts of the trial.

As he was sitting in Geometry, and daydreaming about an upcoming camping trip, someone knocked on the door and it swung open. A grim-faced Mrs. Gladwell stepped into the room, ignored Miss Garman, looked straight at him, and said, “Theo, please come with me.” His heart and lungs froze and his knees were weak as he headed for the door. Outside, waiting in the hallway, were Officers Bard and Sneed. Neither smiled, and Theo’s hands and wrists froze, too, just waiting for the handcuffs.

Mrs. Gladwell said, “I just spoke with Judge Henry Gantry, and he would like to see you in his office, immediately. He’s sent these two officers to drive you over to the courthouse.”

Theo couldn’t think, couldn’t talk, couldn’t do anything but stand there like a frightened little boy who really wanted his parents. “Sure,” he finally managed to say. “What’s going on?”

Oh, he knew. Somehow his two text messages to Bobby had been discovered, and he was about to be charged with witness tampering. Judge Gantry was furious. Clifford Nance was demanding an arrest. His life was over. He was headed for Juvenile Detention.

“Let’s go,” Bard said. They marched him down the hall like a man being led to the electric chair, or the gas chamber, or the firing squad. Theo was often amazed at how quickly gossip spread through Strattenburg Middle School, so he was not that surprised when several nosy teachers were standing in their open doorways, watching. In the front lobby, some seventh-grade students were arranging art on a bulletin board. They stopped and gawked at the prisoner as he was led away. A black-and-white police car, complete with logos and lights and antennas, was waiting at the curb.

Sneed said, “Just hop in the backseat.”

Theo climbed in and sank low. He could barely see out the window as the car began to move, but he managed to glance back at the school. Dozens of students were standing at the windows, watching young Theodore Boone get hauled away to face the fury of the criminal justice system.

After a few minutes of total silence, Theo asked, “So what’s up, guys?”

Bard, the driver, said, “Judge Gantry will explain everything.”

“Can I call my parents?”

“Sure,” Sneed said.

Theo instead called Ike, who answered. Theo said, “Hey, Dad, it’s me, Theo. Look, I’m on my way to the courthouse to see Judge Gantry.”

Ike said, “Okay, I’m outside the courtroom. There’s a recess; the jury is still out. Nothing has happened in the courtroom but I suspect Jack Hogan finally had to admit that Bobby Escobar has disappeared. Things are pretty tense.”

Tell me about it. “Well, I’ll be there in a minute. Guess you’d better tell Mom.”

“Will do.”

They parked behind the courthouse and entered through a rear door. To avoid everyone, they took an old elevator to the second floor and hurried into the outer room of Judge Gantry’s chambers. It was packed with lawyers — Jack Hogan and his gang and the entire defense team. Hogan and Clifford Nance were in one corner, whispering about something that was terribly important. Everyone stopped and stared at Theo as he followed the two policemen to the big door.

Inside, Judge Gantry was waiting, alone. He dismissed Bard and Sneed and said hello to Theo. He didn’t seem particularly aggravated, just tense. He said, “Sorry to bother you like this, Theo, but something important has come up. It seems as though Bobby Escobar has disappeared. Do you know anything about it?”

At that point, Theo wasn’t sure what was right and what was wrong, but he couldn’t change what had been done. And, he trusted Judge Gantry. He said, “Yes, sir. His cousin Julio Pena called me around midnight Monday and said he’d just talked to Bobby, said he had left the motel and was hiding.”