Cumberland, Maryland – Present Day

  “This is a bad idea.”
 Solis scowled, steering the car toward the double gates of the maximum-security prison.
 “I heard you the first six times you said that,” he snarled. “Stop repeating yourself. You’re driving me crazy.”
 Catriona didn’t seem to care.
 “It is. It’s a bad idea,” she parroted herself. “My Spidey senses are telling me we need to turn around and go home.”
 He resisted the urge to reach out with a gloved hand and throttle her, knowing precisely what the backlash for such an action would be; he would be dead before the car moved another inch.
 She might be ditzy, but she’s a killer at heart, Sol thought with begrudging affection.
 “Why do we need him, Sol? We can do this ourselves – “
 “Catriona, if you say one more word, I am leaving you in the snow.”
 His empty threat did not silence her babbling and he wondered how much more he could bear. It had been a six-hour drive to North Branch Correctional and the entire trip she had not shut up for more than ten minutes at a time.
 “It’s not too late,” she continued as if she was alone in the car. “Turn around and – “
 “Identification.”
 The guard’s mechanical voice piped out through the intercom and Solis swatted at his partner on the arm.
 “Give me your licence,” he hissed, pulling his up through the window.
 Catriona glared at him balefully.
 “Lady, do you have ID?” the man in the booth demanded, his steely eyes narrowing suspiciously.
 For a fleeting moment, Sol hoped she would refuse. That way he wouldn’t have to listen to her second guessing him a minute longer.
  To his chagrin, she seemed to reconsider her own actions, and he watched as she reluctantly reached for her wallet.
 “Next time have your papers available,” the stoic voice came from the box.
 “There’s not going to be a next time,” Catriona muttered, thrusting the plastic card at Sol who passed it to the guard. “Next time I’ll be home and you can do something so stupid yourself.”
 The words were meant for Sol, but the office smirked slightly and shook his head.
 “Mr. and Mrs. Smith, huh?” he growled, eyeing them with suspicion. “That’s original.”
 Instantly, the duo grinned disarmingly.
 “We get that all the time,” they chorused. “No relationship though.”
 The officer glanced back at the identification and at them one last time before waving them through the gates.
 “Keep your identification handy,” he instructed. “You’re going to need it again.”
 At the second set of iron gates, Solis handed their paperwork again to the teenaged looking sentry, but he was not fooled by the man’s apparent babyface.
 He would shoot me dead for looking at him funny, Sol knew. He had no intention of testing his theory.
 “All aspects of your visit will be recorded visually and audio,” the child-faced man told them in an almost bored tone. “You may not have physical contact with the inmates. You may not provide the inmates with any materials. You will be frisked upon entry. Upon entering the facility, you do so at your own risk and cannot hold the state of Maryland responsible for any injury incurred within the walls of North Branch. Do you understand and agree to these terms and conditions?”
 Solis and Catriona nodded, but he could see his companion visibly swallow at the list.
 She talks a big game but at the end of the day, she’s glad we’re doing this. She doesn’t want any more blood on her hands, especially not that kind. And she doesn’t even know the half of it.
 They were waved through again and Solis stepped on the gas of the rental, surging through the entry point before Catriona could open her mouth again.
 They parked in their allotted spot and glanced at each other as they approached the building.
 “You heard what they said about recording,” Catriona muttered under her voice. “We have to be careful.”
 Solis shot her a perplexed look.
 It’s like we haven’t done this before, he thought, rolling his eyes.
 “Identification,” the desk officer asked as they entered, and they handed off their fake IDs for the third time in ten minutes.
 “Don’t they touch base with each other?” Cat grumbled, and Sol nudged her in the ribs.
 The officer did not seem to hear her or else he simply ignored her.
 “Inmate’s name?”
 “Van Hoyt.”
 He gazed up at them as if suddenly seeing them for the first time.
 “The Van Hoyt?” he asked with curiosity and Solis nodded.  The guard chortled and nodded.
 “Good luck,” he snorted, pushing their identification back through the bulletproof glass.
 They were directed toward the metal detector.
 They passed through, were frisked and checked with a hand wand before being permitted to enter the inner area of the prison.
 “You will have to leave your bag here, Mrs. Smith,” the officer informed her, and Catriona looked at him defiantly.
 “This place is filled with thieves,” she protested. The man smiled cruelly.
 “Mostly murders, rapists and pedophiles,” he replied easily. “The thieves get minimum or medium security.”
 She scowled, her dark eyes flashing but she reluctantly handed her oversized Gucci purse to him, watching closely to ensure he didn’t meddle with the contents.
 They aren’t going to steal anything with you watching them! He almost yelled at her, but he supressed the urge. Some days he wondered how they had been paired for so long without killing one another.
 There’s still time, I suppose.
 Some days he tried to remember a time when he was free of the too-intuitive brunette. It was impossible after fifteen years.
 Hopefully I will know that freedom again, he thought grimly.
 “This way.”
 They followed the lumbering man through another set of security doors and Solis could see sensor cameras following his every move like ten sets of intrusive eyes undressing him.
 I could never do porn, Sol thought wryly but he didn’t share his observation with his partner. He had a feeling Catriona’s mood was not as light as his.
 She takes her women’s intuition thing way too seriously. She needs to lighten up.
 But even as he thought it, he recalled how many times Catriona’s gut instinct had gotten them out of trouble.
 This time, I can’t afford to listen to her. There’s too much at stake here.
 “Wait in here. Hands on the table at all time. The inmate will be cuffed to the table and unable to touch you. If for some reason things go awry, hit the panic button and guards will be in to subdue him.”
 “Oh Jesus Christ,” Catriona muttered. “Who is this guy? Hannibal Lecter?”
 Solis scoffed as the guard left them alone.
 “He’s killed more people than Hannibal Lecter,” he retorted. “You know that as well as I do.”
 “This place gives me the creeps.”
 “It’s a prison, Smith. It’s not supposed to be cheery.”
 “I know,” she sulked, flipping a perfectly shaped calf over her knee and Solis could not resist staring at the smooth olive of her skin.
 I better loosen her up or there will be no love when we get back to DC finally.
 Sol felt a familiar tugging in his groin, his ears tuning out Catriona’s prattling as he focussed on her full mouth, envisioning how much sexual energy she would have after the day was done.
 At least one good thing will come from all of her stress.
 The door opened again, and Cat abruptly stopped speaking to turn and stare at the man joining them in the sterile grey room.
 Solis had seen pictures in the file of the elusive killer before them, but nothing had really prepared him for the person who entered the room.
 Instinctively, Sol went to rise, staring in awe at the notorious character sauntering toward him.
 “Sit down! Hands on the table!” The guard yelled, and Sol instantly sat, stunned that he had moved. It had not been his intention but being in the presence of such a man was enough to inspire awe in the most stoic of men.
 “Your mouth is open,” Catriona hissed. “Close it.”
 “You have fifteen minutes, Agents,” the officer informed them. “Don’t forget, use the panic button if you need it.”
 But Sol’s attention was focussed strictly on the prisoner. His broad shoulders and thick neck hinted at the strength hidden beneath the orange jumpsuit, and his shaved head gleamed beneath the fluorescent lights of the room.
 His visage screamed ‘assassin’ to Sol, made worse by the forbidding look in his eyes and the neck tattoo creeping up his clean-shaven neck like a slithering serpent to lick his chin.
 Sol could not make out the details of the ink, but he knew by reading his file that the man had a full body design, covering his entire muscular frame.
 Well, I mean, I don’t know if it’s everywhere…Solis thought guiltily, shifting his eyes around as if the others could sense his thoughts.
 He would have paid good money to see the entire artwork, but no one needed to know about Sol’s homoerotic tendencies.
 Van Hoyt’s arresting sea green eyes were carefully covered behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, but he moved with a graceful fluidity as he sat before them, his mouth curving into an almost welcoming smile.
 “You will have to forgive me,” he said quietly. “Your names do not ring a bell. I can only assume you are from one of those save your soul societies, brought forth by Jesus Christ himself. I should warn you, I have found Jesus but he decided I was not really worth the hassle and took off in the laundry cart a few weeks back.”
 Cat and Sol snorted in unison and quickly covered their mouths to supress their sentiments.
 “No, Mr. Van Hoyt, we are not from any religious organization,” Sol replied, casting his companion a nervous look. “We are here from Interpol.”
 The inmate’s eyes widened in surprise.
 “Now that is a new one,” he said, leaning forward with interest. “I think that might be the first time I’ve ever been graced by such an attractive duo from any government agency. And you certainly don’t sound like Interpol…I would say you are both very American. Although that is not saying much. With all the incest within universal government these days…”
 He trailed off and turned his attention to Catriona but addressed his comments to Solis.
 “In fact,” he continued, “I would wager that you, Mr. Smith, are from south of Pittsburgh, born and raised.”
 Solis nodded, stunned that the stranger would be able to detect his dialect within a few short sentences.
 “That is incredible, Mr. Van Hoyt,” Sol told him, impressed. “But we have heard about your remarkable abilities. That is why we’re here in fact. We would – “
 “But you,” Van Hoyt continued, his focus steadfastly on Catriona. “You will be harder to learn since you have so few words.”
 He closed his eyes, holding up a long finger, indicating he needed a minute. 
 “Give me a moment. I will get it.”
 He inhaled sharply, and Solis could not pull his own hazel irises from the killer’s face as he seemed to be performing a magic trick.
 Suddenly, Catriona gasped and as Solis turned to look at her, Van Hoyt’s eyes snapped open.
 “Ah! You are a Texan. Mexican mother?”
 Catriona’s mouth parted in shock, an expression of terror in her brown eyes.
 “Am I right?” he demanded, and she nodded, looking from man to man, panic flooding her face.
 “That is amazing!” Solis declared, and he was genuinely taken aback by the man’s talents.
 “But I assume you didn’t come here to discuss party tricks,” Van Hoyt continued. “What could the American branch of Interpol possibly want from a man serving consecutive life sentences?”
 “A favor,” Catriona said suddenly, and Sol was surprised to hear her speak. When he gazed at her, he could see that she was as enraptured with Van Hoyt as he himself was.
 “A favor?” he laughed. “I would think that back in DC you have friends in higher places than me.”
 “We are looking for one of your friends,” Solis explained. “And we thought that you might know where we could find her.”
 “And who might that be?” he asked conversationally but Sol got the sense he was not entertaining their words.
 “Ashtyn Deveaux.”
 A sincerely amused grin exploded over Van Hoyt’s face and he laughed aloud.
 “Ashtyn Deveaux! Now there is a name I have not heard in many moons. Why would you think I know where to find her?”
 “I told you this was a bad idea,” Catriona said suddenly, jumping from the chair as if she had enough of the conversation but Solis had not even started.
 He ignored Catriona’s clear desire to leave and leaned further across the table, holding the inmate’s gaze urgently.
 “If anyone can find her, Van Hoyt, it is you,” he told the inmate. “You have crossed paths with her in your travels, haven’t you?”
 “I don’t recall,” Van Hoyt replied evasively, sitting back casually but everyone in the room knew it was a lie. He did not even try to hide his smirk.
 Ashtyn Deveaux was possibly the only other person in the world as difficult to track as Van Hoyt. It only made sense that they minimally knew of each other, even if their respective fields were slightly different.
 “Let’s go, Soli – Smith,” Catriona pleaded, and Sol was shocked she had almost blown his cover by using his real name.
 She’s really unnerved, Solis thought with mild surprise. It was unlike his ruthless partner to come unravelled. It’s okay. We’re almost done.
 “Do you recall a woman named Sarah?” Sol asked sweetly.
 As if a switch had been flipped, Van Hoyt’s face contorted into a mask of fury, all signs of the genial man dissolving in seconds.
 “You assholes do this every time,” he snarled, and Solis found himself tensing at the abrupt personality change. He had not expected such an about face reaction by the mention.
 A sore point. That’s good to know. It will come in handy later, Sol thought, shooting Catriona a look but she was fixated on Van Hoyt.
 Of course Sol should have known the woman’s name would be a trigger – after all, Sarah was the reason Van Hoyt sat behind bars for the remainder of his natural life.
   “You come sniffing around and looking for help, using Sarah as bait but if you had anything, you would have used it years ago,” the prisoner continued, his eyes flashing in fury.
 Solis nodded.
 “You’re right. No one has had anything in years. But you know how they say the internet is forever? Well, it looks like your sister uploaded some of her earlier debaucheries and they never really went away. It took some digging, but Interpol found them. Let’s just say that Sarah had her camera handy during the commission of a particular crime and posted said pictures to social media before coming to her senses and deleting them. They weren’t up very long but as I said, everything can be found.”
 A slow, tight smile formed on Van Hoyt’s face.
 “And how will you explain away my incarceration?” he asked. “There is nothing any branch of government likes less than looking like a fool and facing a multi-million dollar lawsuit for wrongful conviction.”
 Solis shrugged his shoulders.
 “It wouldn’t be the first time someone has been in prison wrongfully accused, Mr. Van Hoyt,” he replied nonchalantly but his heart was pounding. “There is insurance and reserve funds for such matters.”
 Is he buying into this? He cares about Sarah. That’s obvious.
 It was a ridiculous thought to have; obviously he did care about the girl or she would be serving the sentence and not him.
 And she’s not even blood related. Imagine what he would do for his brother.
 The men locked gazes and time seemed to freeze.
 “If I agree to help you find Ashtyn,” Van Hoyt said cordially as if he had not been furious a moment earlier. “I want more than security for Sarah. I want out too.”
 Catriona began to laugh but Sol held up his hand.
 “Those are terms we can discuss,” he said agreeably. “But it isn’t strictly finding Deveaux. We need you to…take care of her.”
 “I see. And if I do this for you, you’ll release me and forget about this unfortunate business with Sarah?”
 “That is only going to happen on one condition, Mr. Van Hoyt and I think you know what it is.”
 Again, the men stared at each other for a long moment.
 Slowly, Van Hoyt nodded, lowering his eyes toward his cuffed hands.
 “Then we have a deal, Mr. Van Hoyt?” Solis asked, rising.
 “I suppose we do since you are not giving much more of a choice,” he agreed. “Albeit I would think you should call me Xander at this point, don’t you?”
 “All right, Xander. We will arrange for your release and discuss the details in the coming week. Thank you for your cooperation.”
 “You leave my sister alone,” Van Hoyt called after them. “She’s suffered enough.”
 Solis paused to smile at him.
 “If you eliminate the threat, you and your sister will live the high life free and clear for the rest of your days in any country you wish. That is a promise.”
 “I’m going to need that in – “
 “Writing?” Sol interjected. “Of course.”
 Van Hoyt smirked.
 “I was thinking more like in blood but I suppose writing will suffice.”
 Catriona banged on the glass to capture the guard’s attention as if she was about to explode, sliding out the door as they opened.
 Sol nodded at Xander Van Hoyt.
 “We’ll be in touch,” he told the inmate and the younger man chuckled mirthlessly.
 “I suspect there’s not much I can do about that, is there?”
 She was almost running, and Sol finally caught up with her at the car.
 “Holy hell, you’re fast for a broad in heels,” he gasped, clutching his chest in exaggerated gasps.
 Catriona whirled to face him.
 “Did he agree to do what I think he did?” she asked, and he nodded enthusiastically.
 “Yes. He will find Ashtyn Deveaux and terminate her.”
 Catriona stared back at the building, her eyes shadowed with something he couldn’t understand.
 “Do you think the stories about him are all true?” she finally asked as Solis unlocked the car.
 “What stories? Those stupid ghost stories?”
 Catriona nodded.
 “Of course not,” he scoffed, jumping into the driver’s seat. “Did he look like a ghost to you?”
 Catriona did not answer as she slid into the passenger’s side but the haunted look on her face told Sol that she had experienced something much different than he had.
 It doesn’t matter, he told himself sternly. All that matters is getting rid of Ashtyn Deveaux before she ruins more business on that side of the ocean.
 Humming softly, he put the car in reverse, his mind on the fifty million dollars coming his way from Renault.
 And after Deveaux is gone, I will take care of Van Hoyt and live happily ever after.
 Solis eyed Catriona who continued to stare out the window numbly.
 He still wasn’t sure what he was going to do with his long time and lover.
 I’ll probably have to kill her too.