Page 8 of The Heat is On

At least solitary here had a window, the midnight sun casting a glow through the tiny grated opening nine feet in the air. A simple bed, a stainless toilet and sink. Cement table.

Hopefully he’d only be here overnight.

He hadn’t even seen Darryl as the guard led him away.

Just walk away.

Rio closed his eyes, his knees drawn up, the adrenaline still hot in his veins. Wow, he knew better.

But maybe he should just concede that once a criminal, always a criminal. Even if you worked for the good guys.

Still. Rio wanted to hit something.

He closed his eyes, listened to the beating of his heart. And prayed for Tuesday.

Two

Jaden Maguire had been beaten in his cell overnight.

Rio took the news without flinching, just a tiny swallow of fire down his throat, seeping through his chest. But inside, he heard a scream.

Jaden Maguire, Aggie Parker—and countless other kids whose lives meant nothing to the people who saw them as expendable.

Not Rio. Which was why, of course, he was here, standing in the tiny shaft of sunlight that painted the gray, restricted confinement cell, his hands now cuffed behind him, painfully aware of his own smell. The cell offered nothing in comfort. A chill emanated from the walls, finding his bones, the mattress nothing more than a wafer-thin foam pad, and with the sun high, last night he’d had to bury his face in his arms to get any shut-eye.

But when he did, the memories came, and he’d sweated out the nightmare, shaking as he woke.

He couldn’t do this much longer and stay sane.

But he let nothing of that show on his face as he faced Superintendent Perkins. Don’t talk unless asked a question. He’d learned that the hard way at the age of seventeen. He glanced at the two guards, aware they were sizing him up, too. Not to worry. The last thing he would do is try anything rash. He didn’t have to—he planned on walking out the front door. Of course, they didn’t know that.

Perkins, however, did.

“You might as well have a target painted on your back, Mr. Parker.” No-nonsense, strict in a black pantsuit, the woman wore not a hint of makeup, her brown hair pulled back in a tight bun.

She nodded at the guards to leave them and stayed in his cell as they shut the door.

“I can’t let you out in gen pop. We’re still interviewing inmates, and yes, I know you think it was Boneyard, but no one has come forward—”

“Is the kid going to live?” Rio loosened his shoulders, trying to ease the knot in his neck.

Perkins noticed the gesture. “I don’t know. He’s been transferred to Copper Mountain Regional Health Center. I’m sorry, I can’t undo your cuffs.”

He noted the softening of her voice, the flash of compassion in her eyes. “If I’d been here last night, you wouldn’t have spent the night in restricted confinement.”

His mouth tightened, and he nodded. “It makes it a little hard to keep my eye on Darryl Salmon when I’m stuck in here.”

“I know that. As soon as I got in this morning, I sent a guard to check on him. He seemed fine, if not a little shook up.”

Rio let out a breath.

“I don’t understand why you decided to follow him in here, Agent Parker. You could have put him into protective custody or into the Wit-Sec program.”

“He declined our numerous offers.” And don’t think Rio hadn’t wanted to get some alone time with plump, pimple-faced Darryl and outline a few of the alternatives. Starting with torture and death at the hands of his boss, Wayne Buttles, the guy most likely to hunt Darryl down inside these walls. But he’d been told to hang back and watch. Protect. Let the guys on the other side of the bars do the negotiating. “He seems to think that if he talks, Buttles will go after his wife.”

“She’s pregnant, right?”

“Due any day. We moved him up here so she could visit him more often. Lives in the area. But Darryl—he’d rather keep his mouth shut, take his chances, and let women and children be shipped out of the US and into the eastern slavery trade.” Okay, so he hadn’t a hope of hiding how he felt about Darryl and his ilk. Even if Darryl acted like he had no idea what Buttles was up to.I’m just a truck driver.

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