Fear Nothing (Detective D.D. Warren #7) - Lisa Gardner Page 0,60
She explained basic prison protocol, that all jewelry, bags, scarves, accessories, were to be checked into the available lockers. Phil also checked his sidearm; the MCI didn’t permit firearms to be carried even by the corrections officers in order to minimize the risk of a weapon being seized by an inmate and used against them.
D.D. noticed Adeline kept her MedicAlert bracelet on. Another concession to her condition, D.D. figured. In case of emergency, any first responder would need to know that the patient couldn’t feel pain and thus was in no position to judge her own condition. Plus that whole risk-of-overheating thing. On a hot summer’s day, if Adeline collapsed in public . . .
D.D. wondered how many times a day Adeline was asked about that bracelet and what it signified. And she wondered how willingly and truthfully Adeline answered such questions.
By the time they’d divulged all personal possessions, a stunning black woman with gorgeous cheekbones had arrived. Adeline introduced her as Superintendent Kim McKinnon. She proceeded to lead them through security, down a narrow hall to where she said Shana was already ensconced in the interview room, waiting for them.
“She’s still recovering from yesterday’s incident,” McKinnon informed them briskly, striding rapidly down the long, grungy white corridor. “She lost a lot of blood, so she tires easily. I’d suggest you get straight to the point while she can still answer your questions.”
“She cut herself?” D.D. asked.
The superintendent nodded.
“Serious suicide attempt?”
“Serious enough she probably would’ve died in another few minutes.”
“Has she done that before?”
“Shana suffers from severe depression, in addition to antisocial personality disorder. Think of it this way: She doesn’t just hate your guts; she hates her own guts as well.”
“Lovely,” D.D. murmured. “And how long have you known Shana?”
“Since I first assumed the position of superintendent ten years ago.”
“You think you can handle her?” D.D. asked curiously.
The superintendent arched an elegantly shaped brow. “Anyone who thinks she can handle Shana Day is a fool. The woman is too smart for her own good. And too bored for anyone else’s health.”
“You sound like you have a certain measure of respect for her.”
The superintendent seemed to consider the matter. “Shana was incarcerated at the age of fourteen,” the superintendent answered at last. “Only the first third of her life was lived outside these walls. Let’s just say, I may run the MCI, but Shana is the expert here. I don’t put anything past her, and in return, no officers have died on my watch.”
The superintendent stated the last sentence matter-of-factly, a not-so-subtle reminder of Shana’s full capabilities. Walking on the other side of the superintendent, Phil twitched again.
They arrived at their destination, a glass window overlooking a darkened room.
All of them halted, Phil nervously picking at a hangnail on his left thumb, while Adeline stared straight ahead, expression neutral. Her game face, D.D. figured. Whatever thoughts, feeling, emotions, the doc had about questioning her own sister regarding the two recent murders, she was carefully boxing up and putting away.
The interview room came equipped with an audio system. Superintendent McKinnon helped Phil insert the earpiece into his left ear, which would enable them to communicate with him once he was inside the room. With the audio system flipped on, they’d also be able to hear everything said inside the cramped eight-by-twelve-foot space.
Phil and Adeline would enter the room. D.D. and the superintendent would remain on the other side of the glass, observing. Shana was also entitled to have her lawyer present but had declined.
Now Superintendent McKinnon glanced at Adeline, who stood slightly off to one side, then stared hard at Phil.
“Ready?” McKinnon asked him.
“Sure.”
“You need a breather, just walk out of the room. Remember, you can come and go as you please. She’s the one who has to sit there.”
The pep talk seemed to work for Phil. He drew himself up straighter, nodded his understanding.
Superintendent McKinnon reached over, flipped on a light switch. Inside the room, Shana Day came into view, clad in prison orange, sitting at a small interview table, shackled hands clasped on top.
The inmate raised her head slowly as Adeline opened the door and led Phil into the chamber.
• • •
AT FIRST GLANCE, the aging female killer wasn’t what D.D. had pictured. Photos online had been black-and-white smudges from a nearly thirty-year-old murder trial, meaning D.D. had been left to fill in the blanks. Given Adeline’s sleek beauty, not to mention Shana’s predilection for preying on men, D.D. had expected the juvenile murderess to have grown from a