The electronic release buzzed open a heavy steel door, and the two burly U.S. Marshals who had handcuffed Lou’s wrists behind him escorted him into the small foyer of a rear entrance in the Atlanta jail. Having been briefed on the punch list of procedures he could expect, Lou was a bit surprised his ankles and wrists hadn’t been chained for this trip to the courthouse. He was also surprised that there was no other security ready to transport him. The only one waiting in the dim light was FBI Special Agent Timothy Vaill.

“The face is familiar,” Lou said, pointing at him. “Haven’t I seen you some place before?”

“These guys take decent care of you?”

“They wouldn’t look like they’re both on steroids if they had to eat the food here, but yes, they’ve all been okay. Thanks for caring. Now, about the lawyer I never got a chance to call.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, the court would have appointed one for you, and he or she would have scheduled an arraignment date. No big deal, and no matter. You’re still my prisoner, and I have some things I need to speak with you about.”

Even in the subdued light Lou could see the strain enveloping the man’s eyes. Something had gone wrong.

“You don’t look so good,” he said.

“Neither do you.”

“Got me there,” Lou said, grinning.

He had caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror in the guards’ room as they passed by. His five o’clock shadow had grown to about quarter after eleven, and the date clothes he had worn to meet Vicki—dark jeans and a nice oxford shirt—looked like they had been rescued from a gas station’s collection bin. The orange jumpsuit, he had been told, would come after he was returned to his cell to await arraignment. In truth, even the nasty times on the street had not prepared him for this experience.

But now it didn’t seem like court was in his immediate future. Instead, it appeared that something had gone wrong. Maybe very wrong. His first thought was Cap.

A nod from Vaill, and the burlier marshal with the nameplate Gomes pinned to his tan shirt undid Lou’s handcuffs long enough to have them replaced by the ones brought in by Vaill.

“You’re still my prisoner until you’ve been formally charged,” he said, “so no screwing around or I’ll hurt you.”

“Nicely put,” Lou said. “Very nice.”

“He’s all yours, my friend,” the marshal pronounced. “If he doesn’t work or should he break, just bring him back for a full refund.”

“Thanks, boys. I’m hoping the good doctor is going to be more cooperative this time around.”