Chapter 4 - The Man Behind the Glass
Grant had been an investigator for eleven years. She had seen missing money, planted contraband, and reports written so badly they looked like confessions. She had never watched a prison captain order an employee to invent a child.
"That conversation is being documented," she said.
Voss gave her a cold look. "You have no recording privileges in this facility."
"I have a notebook and a memory. Both work fine."
A dozen officers filled the cafeteria. Their arrival changed the room: men who had laughed at Owen began staring at their trays, trying not to be noticed. Marcus slid back to his usual table, furious and uncertain.
A guard led Owen toward the infirmary corridor while Grant argued for immediate access to the warden. She had already sent a message from her car before entering; an unannounced review was one thing, a missing fourteen-year-old was another. County child protection and the sheriff's office would receive copies if her check-in went unanswered.
Owen counted doors as he walked. Three gray. One green. Then a window painted over from the inside.
Through a narrow clear strip he saw a man on a gurney turn his head.
Dark hair. A bandage at the temple. A familiar habit of pressing his thumb against his first two fingers when he was thinking.
"Dad?"
The guard pulled his arm. "Keep walking."
Owen dug in his heels. "That's my dad."
The man behind the window struggled to sit up. Someone inside yanked the curtain closed.
A tall man in a neat navy suit appeared at the end of the corridor. Warden Russell Greer smiled without warmth.
"Owen," he said, "you were told to watch the inmates, not the infirmary."
"You told me I'd see him."
"And you have. Now let's discuss what you noticed at lunch."
Greer opened a door labeled RECORDS, then motioned Owen inside.
May you like
On the desk lay a freshly printed inmate profile. It had Owen's face and a date of birth that made him nineteen.
"Sign here," the warden said, "and your father stays alive."
