Reach Me (A Katie Winter FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 2)

PROLOGUE On this icy morning, Henry White had been given the most dangerous job of his career so far. Striding along the prison corridor, he checked the handcuffs and stun g*n were in place on his belt. He felt nervous, hoping the inmate transfer would go without a hitch. "Don't worry," Joe, his colleague, reassured him as he walked alongside. "This guy's been in solitary for months. He'll come quietly. They always do. They're just glad to get back to a normal cell." But Henry still felt uneasy. After all, this prisoner had spent three months in solitary because he'd killed a fellow inmate. And that was after the string of murders he'd committed outside, before finally being arrested. Carl Dolan was a violent, brutal serial killer. The most dangerous type of murderer there was. But Henry had to get used to this part of his job, now that he was on a higher pay grade and working in the maximum-security section of this northerly New York state prison. They reached the steel door that separated this solitary confinement area from the rest of the prison. Joe took the bunch of keys off his belt and unlocked the door. It clanged loudly as he opened it. The two men stepped through it, and headed down the short corridor to the solitary confinement cell. As he approached, staring curiously through the thick, steel-barred door, Henry was shocked by how small the windowless cell was. It wasn't much larger than an elevator; a concrete box, with a concrete bed, and a thin mattress. There were a few rough, gray blankets, and a small ventilation grille high up near the ceiling. The steel sink and toilet, within arm's reach of the bed, looked dull and dirty. The walls were blank, decorated only by scuffs and stains. Henry couldn’t imagine spending twenty-three hours a day in this space, with no human contact apart from the occasional passing guard. The prisoner sat on the bed. He had his elbows on his knees and his chin was resting on his hands. He looked up as they arrived. Henry blinked. He'd thought Dolan would be a big man, with a lot of muscle. But under his gray prisoner’s outfit, he looked rather skinny. He was average height, lean and wiry. That reassured him. If he caused trouble, he and Joe could easily contain him. "Carl Dolan," Joe said. "We're here to take you back to the cells. Put your hands through the gap. We're going to cuff you and shackle you." Henry's hands were shaking slightly as he took the bunch of keys and unlocked the handcuffs and the leg irons, handing the irons and the cuffs to Joe. He had to concentrate hard to stop showing his nerves. He didn't want to give Dolan any idea that he was unsure. And he saw Dolan was watching him. His eyes were a very light, glacial blue. "Cuff me and shackle me? What for?" Dolan asked. His voice was surprisingly soft. "For your own protection," Joe replied automatically. "For the walk back to the general prison population." "I’m going back there?" "That's right. Your solitary term ended today." Dolan shook his head. "I don't want to go. Those guys are going to kill me." He looked pale and scared as he spoke. Joe glanced at Henry as if to say: See? He's broken. Dolan put his hands through the gap. His fingernails were uneven and had been roughly trimmed. Then Joe stepped forward and briskly snapped the handcuffs shut. He locked them to the steel loop on the slot before moving to the cell door. Joe unlocked it while Henry stood watching. Then Joe moved inside and, working carefully, shackled Dolan's ankles. Henry felt a sense of relief when their prisoner was fully restrained. When the shackles were in place, Joe took hold of Dolan's arm. "Check the cell?" he asked Henry. Carefully, Henry moved through the cell, checking that everything was in place and that Dolan hadn't managed to break any part of the cell’s fittings or fixtures to make a weapon. The cell was so small and bare it only took a minute to search. "All fine," he said. "Let's go." Henry walked outside the cell. He undid the lock that secured the handcuffs to the iron loop. Then he headed back into the cell. With the prisoner in cuffs and shackles, all that remained was the five-minute walk through the chilly corridors. Now that this part of the transfer was done, he didn’t know why he’d been nervous at all. Joe was right. It was easy. Coming out of solitary, the inmates didn’t want to make trouble. Joe grasped Dolan's arm firmly. He was whistling under his breath as he turned the skinny man in the direction of the door. And then, in front of Henry's horrified eyes, Dolan suddenly convulsed. He doubled over, screaming. "What the hell?" Henry rushed back inside the cell. Joe still had hold of Dolan's arm. He was tugging at it, trying to keep the prisoner on his feet. "What is it, man? What's happened?" Joe shouted, leaning forward in concern. And, as he did that, Dolan struck. With a twist of his arms, he trapped Joe's neck in the circle of his cuffed hands. Joe had time to give one loud, astonished yell. Then he choked, a terrible, retching sound. Gasping, Joe staggered toward the cell door, desperately trying to get out of the way. He jerked his arm to one side, trying to throw off his assailant. But Dolan was holding on tightly, his hands like pincers around his neck. Joe's eyes were wide with terror. Dolan twisted his arms, pressing them either side of Joe's head. "Argh!" Joe collapsed onto the floor. His body was limp and at the same time his face twisted in agony. And then, Henry heard a dull, snapping noise and Joe crumpled to the floor. The situation had turned lethal. In a moment, it had become Henry's worst nightmare. He grabbed the stun g*n from his belt, his hands shaking badly now. He needed to take him down, immediately. He turned on the stun g*n and lunged toward Dolan, but somehow, the man was ready for him. He whipped his upper body forward and head-butted Henry directly in the face with his forehead. Henry felt a blinding pain. His nose crackled with the impact. His eyes streamed as he staggered down to his knees. Choking on blood, he gasped for air. "Help! Help!" Even as Henry sputtered the words, coughing blood away, realized how futile they were, because this was solitary confinement. The gate to this section was a hundred yards down and far out of earshot. That was the point of solitary. Nobody could hear your screams. Henry scrambled to his feet. Joe was on the floor, lying on his side. His head was twisted to one side. A thin trickle of blood seeped across the concrete. He scrambled unsteadily to his feet, desperately trying to get the stun g*n into place for a second attempt, but Dolan was too quick for him. Using both his cuffed hands like a battering ram, he punched Henry in the stomach. The blow knocked him off his feet. He hit the floor hard, and felt the wind rush out of him. The stun g*n flew out of his hand and clattered against the wall. The keys on his belt jangled with the impact. Then Dolan was on top of him. He grabbed Henry's throat with his hands. He pressed down, and Henry felt the cold metal choking him. Henry tried to fight back, but Dolan was too strong. He felt his airway closing as Dolan's thumb pressed against his Adam's apple. He tried to pull free, but Dolan had him in a vise. A killing machine, Henry remembered. That’s what the guards had called this man and now he knew why. "Sorry, man," Henry heard Dolan say, almost regretfully. His voice sounded far away. "I got things to do. Places to go." His eyes were like blue icebergs, Henry thought, trapped on the floor, unable to move as darkness swallowed him.