Hey everyone….This chapter brought to by a guilty conscience and a desire to continue this story. Many thanks for all the kind reviews!

Previously:

Jay rolls his eyes, allowing his exasperation to show.

"A family! He may be a hard-ass Fed, but his brother teaches math at CalSci for God's sake! Perhaps he himself isn't very vulnerable, but the people close to him are. Therefore, the weakness that we know he has is his family. We can effectively attack Don Eppes through hurting his family. You see?"

Jameson smiles thinly, trying in vain to veil his own irritation.

"An interesting observation…..we'll look into it," he says, reaching for the papers in Jay's hand.

"You damn well better look into it. It's your best shot. And if you don't my time here will be wasted," Jay mutters angrily, giving his employer the information packet.

He hides his belligerent glare, staring at the ground and controlling his show of emotion. He has never truly liked Jameson, although protocol requires that he pretend too, at least in front of lesser members of the organization… although he does enjoy receiving praise the man simply because he is "higher-up", he usually cannot stand his boss. Hopefully, he has not crossed the line yet, although he has certainly toed it.

"I advise you to watch your tone, Jay," the other man says, noticing his companion's fixation with the ground and guessing correctly the dislike that he is hiding.

"Yes, sir," Jay says tightly, lifting his gaze, "I will take your advice. Will you require me to remain here until you have seen this out?"

"Of course. We'll need you to stick around until the end" Jameson replies, a tiny smirk playing across his chapped lips in response to the pained expression that plays across Jay's face.

He knows that the younger man hates him. He has known for years and the feeling is mutual. He knows that staying in LA for this will annoy his inimical associate to no end, and so he makes certain that that is indeed what will be happening. He is so wrapped up in his glee that he fails to notice the murderous expression that flashes across Jay's face before it is hidden behind the mask of humble submission again.

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Corin shifts slightly, trying to find a comfortable position to sit in while he is waiting. The interrogation room is relatively dull and cold. The table beneath his clenched fists is smooth and flat. It is black, reflecting a darkened version of the bland room that surrounds it. From the tabletop, he can see that he looks like hell. His blonde hair is a matted with blood and something sticky that he doesn't want to identify, dark circles and bags surround his eyes, and his normally pale skin is caked with dirt. Suffice to say, he has not seen a shower for quite a while. People have told him that he is quite charismatic, but he knows all the charisma he might possess will not be enough to get him out of this, even if it shows through the dirt. And even if, by some miracle, he manages to escape without a life sentence, he knows that Jameson will have him killed. Perhaps his boss will be kind for once, and he will receive a painless death, but he will be dying soon nonetheless- the organization does not like failure.

The sound of the door opening startles him back to reality, and he automatically sits up straighter, unclenching his fists and lifting his head. Might as well see if a confident criminal unnerves these guys at all….Yeah, right….This is the first time the Feds themselves have come to question him. Sure, he's been dragged in by the LAPD a few times….hasn't everyone? But these guys have never glanced twice in his direction. He wonders if he should demand a lawyer.

Two grim men enter the room, their faces set. The fair haired man speaks first, sitting in the chair opposite Corin but not relaxing at all.

"So….Mr. Wheelrich…."

Corin clears his throat, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. Sweat is already beading on his filthy forehead. The man's gaze is steady and unnerving; he struggles to meet it before looking back at the table. So much for a 'confident criminal'…these people don't fool around.

"I wan' mah lawyer," he spits the words out quickly, so quickly that they are barely distinguishable.

The two agents have no trouble understanding him though and he swears that he sees the dark haired man smirk slightly. But perhaps it is just a trick of the light because within a few seconds the expression is gone, replaced by a completely serious, almost angry expression.

"Do you recognize this man?"

A picture is pushed across the table and he hides his expression as he looks into Officer Patrick Heinemann's dead face. He rests a wayward finger on the man's pale complexion as he feigns confusion.

"Nah…I never seen 'im in my life. Give me a lawyer."

"See, that's the problem here," the dark haired man speaks again and both men move closer to him and he removes his finger from the picture, "You're lying. And you know it. Maybe you didn't kill this man, but you can tell me who did kill him, can't you, Corin?"

He doesn't respond. The fair-haired man pushes another picture across the table and crosses his arms.

"How about this one?"

He gulps again and looks down. Madeline Heinemann's battered face stares up at him, her blue eyes still open in glassy horror. Wishing he was a better liar, he dares to look up into the face of the fair-haired man.

"I dunno what you're after…I dunno either one, and I'm not gonna speak anymore 'til I get a damn lawyer here."

The anger in the face of the dark-haired agent becomes more evident and he leans closer to Corin.

"Do you have any idea about the world of trouble that you are in? The death of a police officer, harassment and then murder of his entire family... You are facing the death penalty. And unless you start talking, you can sit in a nice cell on death row while your friends run free."

Corin stares back at the intimidating man, a rush of loyalty to his comrades inspiring his defiance. He has already failed Jameson and the rest. He will die without giving in, without handing them over, and so he will not die in complete dishonor. This resolved, he uses his newfound confidence to keep his mouth shut until both agents have stalked out of the interrogation room.

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"Here is your room, sir. Enjoy your stay!"

Jay nods to the bellhop as she walks away, sliding his card key into the door of his new hotel room. He opens the door, throwing his bag into a corner and sitting down on the bed with his stack of file folders. They are clearly marked in Jameson's neat handwriting and each contains a full file on the person in question. Interestingly, Jameson has also included folders on Eppes' coworkers who he apparently must value. Jay shuffles through them slowly, reading each name. Don Eppes, Alan Eppes, Charlie Eppes…Jay smirks a little but he keeps reading. David Sinclair, Colby Granger, Megan Reeves, Larry Fleinhardt, Amita Ramanujan…Jay pauses at this one as well and places the other folders back onto the bed. He flips the folder open and begins to read…Charlie Eppes' romantic interest….he nods and smiles to himself. It's best to start very indirectly, he decides, to build tension very slowly, and Ms. Ramanujan is about to find herself very tragically in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Review please….I'm not so sure the interrogation scene came out very well so any pointers or corrections on that would be much appreciated.

Ir i lû telitha,

pendragoness