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the lockdown, and after this poor SOB got stabbed half to death.”

Joseph recrossed his arms. “Okay, but what was wrong with it?”

Phil clicked through a couple windows to pull up a short form. “This is the work order. It says that there was something wrong with the cable. Guess it was faulty. No signs that it’d been tampered with, though.”

Joseph snorted. “Bullshit.”

“I don’t disagree, Agents.” Phil’s head jerked up so fast to face them, Amelia wondered if it might snap off. “I’m just reading what’s on the work order.”

As Amelia propped her head up with one hand, she absentmindedly fidgeted with the hem of her cardigan. “I know, Mr. Mason. We appreciate your help, but Agent Larson has a point. The timing of that camera outage is too convenient. Is there any way you can contact your tech people and have them send the faulty camera hardware over to the FBI?”

The tension eased from Phil’s face. “I can do that.”

“Good.” She waved a hand at the computer monitors. “What about an alternate route to that hallway?”

Moving the live footage aside, Phil pulled up a new scene. “This camera is mounted above the door to a broom closet, but the opening you see on the left leads to the hall where Enrico was stabbed. Here, I’ll roll it back to a few minutes before.”

As Amelia kept her intent stare on the video of the hall, the room lapsed into silence. Though Phil had pressed a button to speed up the footage, there was no mistaking what the camera had recorded.

An empty hallway.

The only foot traffic—a pair of corrections officers and a doctor—arrived after the flashing lights indicated a lockdown was underway.

Turning her attention to Phil, Amelia lifted an eyebrow. “Are those the only two entrances to the crime scene?”

Phil’s head bobbled awkwardly as he nodded a little too eagerly. “Those are it.”

Joseph stared at the screen, scrunching his face as if searching for something they had missed. “And there’s no one. Not unless there was someone waiting there for half an hour, but my guess is that an inmate lurking in a hallway for that long would’ve drawn someone’s attention.”

“It would have shown up on the video of the cafeteria.” Amelia tapped her foot and squinted at the screen. “We would have seen them leaving the scene on either that camera or this one, but there was no one, in or out. So, unless Carlo stabbed himself and sliced into his own liver, or unless our perp is a ghost, we’re looking for an alternate entrance.”

Joseph leaned in to point at the live footage of the blood-spattered floor and the two techs. “There’s a door here, halfway between where Enrico dropped and the end of the hall. Where does this lead?”

“That door’s locked.” Phil shook his head. “It leads to one of our backup supply areas, and then a breakroom, and past that is a locker room.”

Amelia already knew the answer to the question she was going to ask, but she asked it anyway. “And I don’t suppose any of those are monitored?”

A shadow of apprehension flitted across Phil’s face as he looked from Amelia to Joseph. “No. All those areas are exclusive to prison staff. Inmates aren’t allowed through that door.”

“Okay.” Joseph took a step back and gestured to the wall-mounted monitors. “Send us everything you have from five a.m. on for this entire floor.” His blue eyes flicked to Amelia’s. “Agent Storm and I will be in touch if we need anything else.”

Amelia took the cue. “Thanks again, Mr. Mason.” She offered the CO a departing handshake, and Joseph followed her out.

They’d already been cleared by the warden to visit the scene where Carlo had been stabbed, and unlike the last time Amelia had been at MCC Chicago with Zane, they weren’t required to be accompanied by a chauffeur.

As the door closed behind them, Amelia blinked to adjust her vision. “So, you’re thinking what I’m thinking, right?”

Joseph rubbed his forehead. “Yeah. We’re looking for a CO, not an inmate.”

“Or both.” She never liked it when the good guys were the ones committing crimes. Just like the rat she knew haunted their FBI building, it made everyone a suspect and increased the need for secrecy. And secrets were almost as deadly. She tried to gulp back the knot forming in her throat as she pushed some stray hairs from her face. “But you saw Mason’s expression when I mentioned the cameras on the other side of that damn door. COs don’t rat each other out. We’d be more likely to see an inmate snitch on one of their friends than a CO.”

“Shit, you’re right.” He paused, glancing curiously at her. “We’ve got two crime scene techs here, but we already know they didn’t find a murder weapon.”

“And they don’t know that we’re potentially looking for a CO.” She pursed her lips as they started down a wide hall that would take them to the cafeteria. “The perp had to have gone through that door, though. Whoever they are. That’s the only way they would’ve gotten in and out of the area without showing up on camera.”

“Right.”

Their dialogue tapered off as they passed an unfamiliar corrections officer. As the man’s scrutinizing gaze fell on them, Amelia and Joseph flashed their badges. The guard replied with a stiff nod, and they continued on their way.

An eerie silence had descended over the cafeteria like a shroud. The hairs on the back of Amelia’s neck rose to attention as her and Joseph’s footsteps echoed against the polished concrete floor.

For a split-second, Amelia pictured a different cafeteria—one where the hall at the edge of the room led to the freshly killed body of a grade-school-aged girl and the psychopath who had murdered her.

Though the memory was fleeting, the taste on her tongue had soured.

As she and Joseph neared the hall at the corner of the room, Amelia couldn’t help but wish she was with Zane. There were a litany of reasons why she preferred Palmer’s

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