Storm's Cage Mary Stone (classic reads .TXT) 📖

He gritted his teeth and forced himself back to the present, but the effort was for naught.

The FBI had the reach and the authority, but the bridge between him and the only active federal agent who was friendly to the D’Amato family had been set ablaze earlier that week.

No, Alex would figure out a way to keep Gabriel from prison.

Amelia Storm would be an absolute last resort.

15

Midway through a yawn, Joseph’s eyes snapped to the glass and metal door of the conference room as Amelia Storm emerged from the hallway, a coffee cup in each hand. For the last few days, they’d worked together to sift through surveillance footage and prison records that pertained to the day Carlo Enrico had been stabbed at MCC Chicago.

Though they’d operated under the assumption that Enrico wasn’t likely to recover from his extensive injuries, especially the irreversible brain damage he’d suffered as the result of a series of strokes during surgery, Carlo had clung to life until early the previous night.

Not that Joseph cared. He wanted to find the pedophile detective as much as Amelia, but he didn’t intend to arrest the man. The sick bastard deserved a long, excruciating death—an end Joseph was more than happy to provide.

When Joseph wasn’t focused on the tedious tasks for their investigation, he’d made a point to test Amelia’s physical boundaries. Whether brushing against her as he leaned over her shoulder to get a better view of her laptop’s screen, touching her fingers when she handed him a pen, or sitting closer to her at the oval table, he had yet to receive a rebuff of any sort.

She was receptive, and the time to make his next move inched ever closer.

Reaching out to accept a paper cup of coffee, Joseph pulled himself away from the dangerous thoughts. “Thanks. I sent you the money for it already.” He straightened as she dropped into the mesh-backed chair at his side. “How was your lunch break? I didn’t leave the building.”

“Fine.” She took a sip from her steaming latte. “At least I got to leave the building, obviously.” She tilted her cup in the air for effect. “But I don’t really feel like I left, you know?”

Joseph grinned, knowing all too well how Amelia felt. Working the entire weekend made him forget what day it was. He glanced at the calendar. Tuesday. How the hell did that happen?

“Oh yeah. I feel that. Believe me.” He waved a hand to gesture to the sunny conference room. “Might as well move in. I see this office more than my living room.”

Amelia chuckled as she glanced around the room. “Me too. Maybe we should bring in a comfy couch and a couple wall sconces to brighten the place up.” She glanced at her watch. “We’ve got a meeting with Bailey Howison in an hour to go through her and Norman’s crime scene report, so maybe it won’t feel like home for that much longer. Plus, we ought to have the M.E.’s write-up by the end of today, early tomorrow at the latest.”

Joseph rubbed his chin. “That’s true. I guess we’ve just got to hope that all the evidence is enough to point us to the guy who did it.” He took a quick drink of caramel-flavored coffee before he set the cup down beside an open laptop.

Pushing back to her feet, Amelia wandered around the table to the whiteboard. “We double- and triple-checked, and these are all the corrections officers who were on shift when Enrico was killed.” Her gaze roamed over the rows of handwriting.

“Along with their location at the time of the attack.” Joseph tapped a couple keys to bring up a list of images and videos that had taken him and Amelia almost a week to compile.

The tedium of their attention to detail had paid off. Aside from two guards, they’d accounted for all but two of the corrections officers who were in the prison at the time Carlo had been stabbed.

Dropping both hands to her hips, Amelia blew out a sigh. “All we’ve got left are Cole Irving and Russel Ulmer.” She paused, pursing her lips. “Wait…can you pull up a picture of Irving? That name is familiar.”

“Yeah.” Joseph clicked over to a separate folder and scrolled until he found the man’s name. As Amelia stepped closer to the table, he turned the screen around. “Cole Irving. Prison records say he’s been working at MCC Chicago for almost six years. There’s only ever been one complaint filed against him, and honestly, it sounded frivolous to me. An inmate threw a fit because Irving took away some cookies they’d smuggled in.”

Of all the stupid things to complain about. Annoyance formed a crease between Amelia’s brows. “Really? Cookies?”

Joseph lifted a shoulder. “I’ve heard stupider, believe it or not.”

She took a step back, shaking her head. “No, I believe it.” She waved a dry-erase marker at the laptop. “But I recognize that guy. He was the CO who let Palmer and me into our meeting with Carlo and his lawyer.”

Turning the laptop back to face him, Joseph flashed her a curious glance. “So, he’d have known Carlo was going to roll over, right?”

As she tapped the marker against the heel of her other hand, she looked to the whiteboard. “He could have, yeah. Could’ve put two and two together and figured out the most likely reason that a couple federal agents would visit a prisoner.”

“That’s good to know.” Joseph propped his elbows on the conference room table. “Then we’ve got the other CO we couldn’t locate, Russel Ulmer. Ulmer’s only been working at MCC Chicago for three years, but he’s already racked up a nice pile of complaints. Most of the inmates wound up retracting them, but still. It sounds like Mr. Ulmer has a tendency to use force when he shouldn’t.”

Amelia’s expression turned glacial. “Well, we can’t really rule either of these two out based on what we’ve got so far. Not unless you