When Agent Sterling had removed her jacket, she’d dislodged her shirt slightly. It gapped in the front, giving me a view of the skin underneath. There was a scar just under her collarbone.
A brand, in the shape of the letter R.
Sterling looked down. Her face absolutely expressionless, she righted her shirt. The scar was covered now, but I couldn’t stop staring.
Bind them. Brand them. Cut them. Hang them.
The entire time we’d been in the observation room, she hadn’t taken her eyes off of Daniel Redding.
“My team was investigating the case,” Sterling said calmly. “I got a little too close, and I got sloppy. Redding had me for two days before I escaped.”
“That’s how you know Dean.” I’d wondered how they’d developed a relationship based only on the fact that she’d arrested his father. But if she’d been one of Redding’s victims…
“I’m not a victim,” Sterling said, following my line of thought so closely it was eerie. “I’m a survivor, and Dean is the reason that I survived.”
“Was this the case you were talking about before?” I couldn’t seem to find my voice. It came out cracked and hushed. “When you said that getting emotionally involved was a recipe for getting someone killed, were you talking about someone Daniel Redding murdered?”
“No, Cassie, I wasn’t. And that’s the last question I’m going to answer about Daniel Redding, my past, or the brand on my chest. Are we clear on that?” Sterling’s voice was so even, so utterly matter-of-fact, that I couldn’t do anything but nod.
The door to the prison opened, and Briggs and Dean exited. They were only accompanied by one guard, the older one. I watched as the guard handed something to Agent Briggs—a file. Beside them, Dean stood perfectly, unnaturally still. His shoulders were hunched. His head was down. His arms hung listlessly by his sides.
“Don’t ask Dean about any of this.” Agent Sterling issued those words as a command, desperate and fierce. “Don’t even tell him you saw the brand.”
“I won’t. Ask him. I won’t ask him anything.” I struggled to form sentences and fell silent as Dean and Briggs walked toward the car. Dean opened the car door and climbed in. He shut the door, but didn’t look at me. I forced myself not to reach for him. I tried to keep my eyes focused on the seat in front of me.
Briggs handed the file to Agent Sterling, slapping it down into her hand. “Visitor logs,” he said. “Redding wasn’t supposed to have visitors. The warden is out of his mind. I wouldn’t even bet on the logs being complete.”
Agent Sterling flipped open the file. She ran down the list of names. “Conjugal visits?” she asked.
Briggs spat out the answer. “Several.”
“You think our UNSUB is on this list?” Sterling asked.
“That would make sense,” Briggs replied tersely. “It would make our lives easy, so, no, Ronnie, I don’t think our UNSUB is on that list, because I don’t think this is going to make sense. It’s not going to be easy. We’re just not that lucky.”
I expected Sterling to snap back at him, but instead, she reached out and touched his forearm lightly with the tips of her fingers. “Don’t let him get to you,” she said quietly. Briggs relaxed slightly under her touch. “If you let him in,” she continued, “if you let him under your skin, he wins.”
“This is stupid.” Dean shook his head, his upper lip curling in disgust. “We knew what would happen if I came here. He promised he’d talk. Well, he talked, and now we have no way of knowing how much of what he said was true and how much is just him leading us around, like dogs on ropes.”
It shouldn’t have been me behind that glass, I thought. It should have been Lia watching the interrogation. I didn’t care about the difference between active cases and cold cases. I cared about Dean.
Agent Sterling turned around in her seat. I expected to see the gentleness with which she’d just reproved Briggs, but instead, her eyes were glittering, hard as diamonds, as she addressed Dean. “Don’t,” she told him, jabbing a finger in his direction.
“Don’t what?” Dean shot back. I’d never heard him so angry.
“You really want to play this game with me?” Sterling asked him, her eyebrows nearly disappearing into her hairline. “You think I don’t know what it was like for you in there? You think I don’t know what he said, what you’re thinking? I am telling you, Dean, don’t. Don’t go there.”