Now, outside Northbridge, she sat for a few more seconds.Then she opened the door.
The warm air hit her like a bath.Under darkening clouds, the razor wire on the fences caught what little light there was, flashes of mean silver.
She locked the sedan and walked toward the entrance.
The check-in process hadn’t grown any smoother with repetition.Empty pockets into the plastic tray.Belt off, hands flat on the counter while Rivera ran the handheld scanner up and down her sides.Shoes in the X-ray machine.Sign the liability waiver that cheerfully assured her the State of Maine wasn’t responsible for anything that might happen to her inside its walls.
“Is it me, or has the check-in routine got even longer?”she said when Rivera handed her badge back.
Rivera nodded faintly and leaned in.“Everything’s been tightened til it squeaks.There’s been a bit of a discovery.”
“What kind?”
Rivera merely pointed to the corridor ahead, indicating that this wasn’t the place to speak.They moved along in silence at first: the sage walls, polished concrete, the faint tang of disinfectant overlaying the human undernote.Cameras watched from smoked-glass domes at every corner.Somewhere distant, a shout rose and fell, followed by the slam of a heavy door.
Eventually, Rivera spoke out of the side of her mouth.
“Each inmate has a tablet; they can file requests and complaints, book a phone call, order commissary.”
“What could possibly go wrong with that?”
“It’s very tightly monitored,” Rivera said, defensively. “But we found out there’s a code.When they order commissary.Numbers of items, the order of the list.Kind of like: three Honeybuns and 12 chili ramen noodles means ‘send Joey to beat up my ex-wife’.I mean, not that exactly, but… See, the orders are all processed by trustees in the main prison, and from there…” She snorted, without humor.“Trustees.”
“Cox involved?”
“Everyone’sinvolved.Some terrorist squealed in return for a transfer.It’s been going on for a couple of years.”
That explained how Cox had still been able to maintain some influence and a degree of communication while entombed in this concrete dungeon.Instincts kicking in, Kate started to think of the implications, how she could use the data to build a picture of Cox's communications, his network, perhaps thwart future crimes.
Then she remembered:next week you might be out of a job.
The maximum-security visiting room looked unchanged.Same humming fluorescent strip lights flattening everything into one institutional color palette.
The guard called Bailey was on the back wall again, arms folded over his gym-built chest, red hair buzzed down to prison-regulation contrition.
“Heard about you in Boston,” he said.“Or was it Chicago?Both?Damn good work, anyway.”
“Thanks,” Kate said.“My bosses don’t agree.”
Bailey shrugged.“Bosses are full of shit.”
Through the glass, Elijah Cox sat where he always sat: pale grey jumpsuit, chains at his wrists and ankles, hair cropped close enough to show his scalp in patches.If anything, he looked thinner than before, the planes of his face more pronounced, like someone had been whittling him down to essentials.
When he saw her, he smiled that small, intimate smile like a secret handshake.
She ignored the churn in her stomach and walked to her side of the booth.The metal stool was cold against the backs of her legs.She picked up the phone.On the other side of the glass he mirrored the gesture, chains chiming.
“Agent Valentine,” he said.The handset made his voice metallic again, as if he were speaking from deep beneath the sea.“Twice in one year.People will talk.”
“They already do,” she said.“Let’s not give them more material.”
His eyes swept her face, cataloguing the way they always did."You look tired," he observed gently."The work takes more from you, lately."
“Occupational hazard,” she said.“I’m not here for a wellness check, Cox.”
One corner of his mouth ticked up.“No.You’re here to tell me I was right.”
She refused the bait.“I’m here to tell you your latest disciple is in federal custody,” she said, voice flat.“Quinn Marsh.He’ll be tried.He’ll be sentenced.He’ll die in a cage like you.”
