Free A Raging Dawn by C. J. Lyons Page A

shadow at the edge of my awareness. The echoes were a prelude to my fugues and threatened to mesmerize me, pulling me into a vortex where time stopped and I could lose myself if I wasn’t careful. That’s all this case needed, its star witness falling into a catatonic state, complete with drooling, right there in front of the jury.
    “You seem to be having difficulty hearing me,” Jacob said, marching back to the podium and the microphone there.
    He left a trail of colorful ripples in his wake. I edged forward, digging my nails into my palms, and the echoes were banished. For now.
    “Dr. Rossi, did your examination reveal any physical evidence that my client forced Ms. Nelson to have sex with him?”
    I took a quick inventory of the jury. The only one who would meet my gaze was an older man who seemed more interested in looking down my shirt than what I had to say. No doubt about it, I’d lost them. Best to get it over with quickly.
    “No.”
    “No what?” Jacob was relentless.
    “I found no physical evidence that Mr. Littleton used force when he raped Ms. Nelson.”
    “Dr. Rossi,” Judge Shaw said, further making Jacob’s case for him, “confine your remarks to the facts presented.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” My tone could have been more contrite, but I was having a hard time maintaining a professional facade.
    “Anything else, Mr. Voorsanger?” the judge asked, glancing at her watch. We were ahead of schedule, and she liked that.
    “I just have one last confirmatory question, Your Honor.” Jacob glanced back over his shoulder to the spectators, then shuffled his notes as if ticking off a checklist. “Dr. Rossi, one last time for the jury. You found no evidence that Ms. Nelson was raped, correct?”
    I blinked, at first certain I hadn’t heard him correctly. Manny sat up so fast he knocked a pencil off his table. It hit the ground with a crack that echoed through the suddenly silent room. In the rear of the galley, Ryder straightened as well.
    Jacob had his head buried in his notes. The jury had relaxed. They’d heard him ask the same question twice before already. They knew my answer.
    Except they were wrong. It wasn’t the same question, not the same question at all.
    I glanced at the judge, who inclined her head in a small nod, giving me permission to answer the question Jacob had asked.
    Exactly as he had asked it.
    “That is not correct.” My voice ricocheted off the jurors, grabbing their attention.
    “Excuse me?” Jacob rocked his head up, but his face revealed no surprise. Damn the man, he knew what he was doing. Somehow he was managing to both defend his client and ensure that a group of mad-dog predators wouldn’t continue to run free. Littleton picked up on it as well, frantically reaching across the defense table to yank at Jacob’s sleeve.
    “You asked if I found any evidence that Ms. Nelson was raped. I did find evidence. Evidence that she was both raped and physically assaulted. Multiple times. By multiple assailants.” Just no evidence that his client had used force.
    Thanks to Jacob’s slip, the forensic evidence of the full extent of Tymara’s injuries could now be introduced to the jury. We’d be on the record with everything that really happened to Tymara. If it swayed the jury, it could be enough to get Littleton to give up his partners.
    Thanks to Jacob, Tymara would finally have a chance to be heard. Even if it was from the grave.
    Littleton’s features twisted into a scowl. He pounded a fist on the tabletop. Then he focused on me, his face florid with rage.
    He lunged from his seat, hands stretched toward me. “You bitch! You fucking bitch! You’re not allowed to say anything and you know it!”
    The judge banged her gavel, calling for silence. “Mr. Voorsanger, control your client.”
    Jacob stepped away from the podium and said something in a low voice. Littleton’s posture stiffened, his mouth twisted with fury. The bailiff moved to stand behind Littleton,