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Theo followed behind the guard as she led him into another room through yet another locked steel security door. This room housed a long glass pane that was separated by partitions to offer visitors and the prisoners some sense of privacy.
Not that anyone in prison had true privacy.
Those behind bars had forfeited that privilege the moment they had committed their crimes. Unfortunately, the system sometimes got it wrong. It didn't help when there was some unknown entity intentionally leading the investigators astray.
"Number three," the guard stated as she gestured toward the empty station. There was a stale scent hanging in the air that was hard to identify. "I don't need to go over the rules, do I? Let's try to avoid the complementary cavity search, if you can manage to follow the guidelines and not break them."
Theo shook his head, trying not to take offense at how she couldn't focus her complete attention on him. When she had addressed him earlier, it was clear that her gaze was drawn to his eyepatch.
Hell, he wasn't used to it himself.
There were still times that he suffered from headaches and shooting pain that went from his eye to the back of his skull. As a matter of fact, the headaches had become more frequent, and flying from D.C. to North Carolina hadn't helped to relieve him in any way.
He didn't begrudge the FBI for taking him off active duty.
His injury was definitely a distraction.
The Bureau had physical standards, and he fell short of them.
Still, he was too young to retire, and he couldn't see himself working a desk job as an evaluating analyst for the rest of his life. Brook's offer had been a lifeline. Had he not known what she'd thought of him and his ability as an investigator, he would have said that she'd only done so purely out of guilt. She'd been there when he'd suffered his injury. They would be linked forever by blood shed on the field of battle.
While they might have been working on the same case together at the time he'd sustained his injury, she wasn't to blame for his own misstep, which allowed their target to get the best of him.
He'd fucked up tactically.
It was that simple, and yet that unfortunate.
The last two days had shown him that he could still do his job with only a slight disadvantage.
Bottom line?
He wouldn't allow his disability to define him, nor would he permit it to hinder the team.
It wasn't how his parents had raised him, and they deserved to have a son who fought as hard as they had to get to where they were—not only in their careers, but in their lives.
"Were you really in the FBI?" the guard asked skeptically, bringing up their earlier conversation after he'd gotten off the phone with Brook. "I thought about submitting an application for the academy, but I heard it's really tough."
Theo could have brushed off her comment. He could have gone into detail about what was required to pass at the top of the class, but he refrained. He'd come to find that only one thing mattered in life—one's own perception of himself.
"If you're going to let rumors about how hard it might be to pass the academy discourage you from filling out the application, then don't even bother giving the dream of becoming an agent another thought." Theo had noticed a change in himself since his injury, but his father had told him just last weekend that sometimes change was needed to grow. Maybe he was right, but only time would tell. "If you want it bad enough, it won't matter what others say about your dreams or ambitions. Go and take it."
The guard seemed a bit taken aback, but she eventually smiled and nodded her appreciation for the advice. As she went back to her post near the first sally port, Theo pulled out the chair that had been designated for slot three. Bobby Anderson hadn't been brought in yet, but Theo took the small notebook out of the interior pocket of his leather jacket. He'd seen his father do the same thing numerous times throughout his life, and it was part of a tradition that Theo would carry on in his own career. Now that he could wear more casual clothes, he'd have to figure out where to store it once winter was over.
He might consider a loose sports jacket. A stylish blazer wasn't such a bad idea, either. It would also help cover the outline of a vest and make it easier to conceal his holster. Unfortunately, he'd had to surrender his Sig Sauer P220 Elite at the initial checkpoint upon entering the prison. None of the correctional guards, except for the turnkey, were armed with firearms this far inside the prison. Turnkeys controlled the access into and out of the sally ports.
The loud bang of a door opening on the other side of the glass partition told Theo it wouldn't be long before Steve Laurey took a seat in front of him. The man had been tried and convicted for the murder of Tanya Russell. The prosecution had claimed that Steve had been obsessed with her. The evidence had been stacked against him. It was all a little too tidy for Theo.
He picked up the phone to his right, waiting for Steve to get comfortable. The man had aged since his mug shot had been taken, and he'd also completely shaved his head. Other than that, there were no visible tattoos or anything to indicate he'd gotten used to life on the inside or joined a faction within the facility. As a matter of fact, there seemed to be a hint of hope written across his features.
"Did Derek send you?"
"In a way," Theo replied vaguely into the receiver. "My firm and I are working with him on your case, which we believe is connected with six others."
"I told them all back then that I did not kill Tanya Russell. Hell, we barely even knew one another." Steve ran a hand down his face. "Ask me anything. I have nothing to hide."
"Walk me through what happened," Theo requested, just as he had with the others. Hearing their versions allowed him to see if there were any discrepancies with what he'd read on paper. "Start with—"
"What? Start with when two NCIS agents walked onto base and arrested me? I had no idea what the fuck was going on, and it wasn't until my ass was sitting in an interrogation room that I realized I was in for some serious shit."
