Chapter 15

Reid came back from the infirmary with papers in his hand. “Listen to this: White was in the infirmary for scrapes and bruises. But he was also sexually assaulted.”

“The same as our last vic. Did they do a rape kit?” I asked as my leg was bouncing up and down.

“It doesn’t seem like he reported anything. Therefore no evidence.” His voice was somber.

Some of the team went back to interviewing the inmates, mainly the ones who knew Devon and may have known his whereabouts. Derek came in from outside from talking to Garcia to help theorize what the officers were up to.

“I just got off the phone with Garcia, and she said that Hightowers and Rivers transferred money to another and deposited the same amounts,” He said while looking at our evidence board. “There’s something bigger at play here. They had to be paying off bets.”

“But what kind of bets? Poker game, maybe?” JJ said while looking down at her file.

I shook my head, leaning against the table. “Back at Rikers, there were cases where corrections officers forced inmates to fight each other-like a twisted underground ring. It got exposed pretty quickly, but I can’t help wondering if something similar is happening here.”

Hotch’s brow furrowed as he stepped closer to the board. “If that’s the case, it would explain the injuries Devon White sustained and why he’s gone. He could have refused, or he might know too much.”

Derek nodded. “Makes sense. If White didn’t cooperate, they could’ve retaliated or set him up for failure. Either way, it puts him in danger.”

Hotch’s voice lowered. “Listen up. If this theory holds, it changes everything. But until we have solid proof, this stays between us. Understood?”

We all nodded in agreement and turned our focus back to gathering evidence. The tension in the room was palpable, but the urgency kept us moving. Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Tate burst in, his face flushed with worry.

“We have a situation down in solitary,” he announced, slightly out of breath.

Hotch exchanged a quick glance with me and Rossi, his expression hardening. “Let’s go.”

Without hesitation, I grabbed my notepad and followed them out the door, the Warden falling into step beside us.

“What kind of situation are we talking about?” I asked, keeping pace with Tate.

Tate hesitated before replying. “I don’t know I was just told to come down as quickly as possible.”

We arrived at the narrow, dimly lit hallway where solitary confinement was housed. The tension was palpable as the sound of muffled shouting echoed faintly through the thick concrete walls. The scene before us stopped me in my tracks.

Captain Shavers was leaning against the wall, a deep gash on his forehead oozing blood, his breathing a little labored but steady. On the ground a few feet away, a prisoner lay motionless, a dark pool of blood spreading beneath his head.

“What the fuck happened down here, Captain?” I called out, moving toward him.

“This son of a bitch, tried to jump me. Almost bit my nose off. I hit him in the head, but I think he hit the door while going down.” He said wiping the blood off of his face. “We found all of this stuff hidden in his cell.”

The warden, his eyes fixed on the lifeless body on the cold floor, barely spared Captain Shavers a glance as he spoke, his tone sharp. “Shavers, go take care of that bleed. You’ve done enough already.”

Shavers hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he wanted to protest, but before he could say anything, Hotch stepped forward, his gaze steady and piercing. “Captain, I’ll accompany you to the infirmary. There are a few questions I need to ask.”

Rossi and I looked at the box that contained a shank and socks.

“Well looks like we found our guy.” The warden said with hope in his voice.

“We profiled that this was the work of a group, Warden. This is only one of the killers.” Rossi added.

Miles left to go call his bosses and tell them the news. Meanwhile, Rossi and I called Reid down to talk the scene over.

As soon as Reid arrived, we told him exactly what Shavers had told us. Reid gave us a rundown. The inmates name was butler and he was in here for petty crimes.

“Y/N, you see the cell number? Thirty-four. What if the broken fingers were not seven but thirty-four?” He said looking at me and Rossi.

I felt the tension building in my chest as I climbed the stairs back to the team’s makeshift workspace. The walls of this prison seemed to close in tighter with every hour we spent here, the stifling atmosphere gnawing at my patience. I needed a break-something to clear my head, even if it was just a few minutes away from the chaos.

When I reached the room, the hum of quiet conversation and the faint shuffle of papers filled the air. I made my way over to the couch in the corner, collapsing into it with a deep sigh. I leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment, willing the knot in my chest to loosen.

Hotch came back in looking as focused as he usually is. “I just got done interviewing, Shavers, and something doesn’t seem quite right. Let’s keep conducting interviews, try and figure out what happened to Devon White, and then we figure out if our new victim or Shavers are connected.”

Derek and I sat across from Officer Tom Polinsky in the small, stark interview room. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his hands fidgeting on the table. By the way, his eyes darted around the room and how his shoulders were tense, I could tell he was either nervous, hiding something, or both.

I leaned forward slightly, my tone firm but not confrontational. “Officer Polinsky, we’re trying to get to the bottom of what’s happening here. Do you know this inmate?” I asked sliding Devon White’s mugshot towards him.

His head shook a little bit, “Yeah, he looks familiar.”

“His name is Devon White,” Morgan asserted. “You took him to the infirmary four different times.”

“Yeah, I-I remember him.” He said.

I got closer to him, my tone still the same. “Do you know anything about his transfer?”

He shook his head no.

“What about the infirmary visits?” Morgan asked.

The officer shook his head no again. Morgan and I exchanged a glance, the unspoken understanding between us clear. Polinsky was hiding something, and we were getting closer to uncovering it. The tension in the room thickened as we waited for him to crack.

Derek got up and grabbed him a glass of water. “You know it’s odd that Devon was in your cellblock and you saw him numerous times throughout the week, but you are given little to no answers.”

I stared at the man sitting in front of me; my patience was running thin. “Look, I have a strong feeling that you’re a good man. A good man who is hiding something. Maybe you have something to say about cell number thirty-four?” I said trying to egg him into saying something.

His face tweaked like I hit a sensitive area. He stared at his hands. “You got to keep my daughter safe, please.”

I shook my head. “You have my word.”

He continued. “Shavers and his guys are like a gang in here,” He looked down at the mugshot and started to get emotional. “They had me pull him down to the incinerator. I did’nt want to do it at all. The said if I talked they would hurt my daughter.”

“How’d this begin?”

“They’d round up inmates, that were quiet and one’s that would stay not tell anyone. They picked Devon and Butler to fight. Those two were close, more than friends if you know what I mean. They refused, and Shavers and his gang instigated both of them. I was looking for Rivers and saw Devon on the ground, blood everywhere.”

“They made you get rid of the body, so that would make you an accessory? Did you help them kill Hightower, Rivers, and Jones?

“I couldn’t kill anybody; and it was Butler and I don’t know who else who killed the three.” Polinsky’s voice trembling.

“Are you willing to testify?”

“Of course, I want justice for not just Devon but everyone who had to go through what Shavers put them through.”

I heard a stampede come to the interview room, I turned around and saw that inmates had been let loose and they had keys. They opened the door to our room and rushed in, there were three of them.

They came at us with raw aggression, each one determined to take us down. One of them lunged toward me, and I quickly scanned the room, grabbing the nearest chair. I swung it hard, catching the prisoner square in the ribcage. He staggered back, winded, but recovered quickly, his grip snapping around my throat. For a few seconds, I was lifted off the ground, struggling for breath, before he slammed me down onto the table. My head collided with the surface, sending stars flashing across my vision.

I fought through the daze and kicked him in the same spot where the chair had hit him. He crumpled to the ground, gasping for air.

But just as I thought I had a moment to breathe, two more rushed in. One of them wielded a shiv, and without hesitation, he charged at me. I barely had time to react as the blade sliced into my side. The sharp sting of pain sent a wave of nausea through me, but I knew I had to act fast or he’d finish the job.

I jumped onto one of the standing chairs, using the height to my advantage. I wrapped my arm around the man’s neck, using my weight to pull him down and locked my legs around his arms, squeezing with all the force I could muster. His struggles grew weaker as his face turned blue, and after a few agonizing seconds, he passed out cold.

I looked down at my shirt, the blood soaking through quickly. My breathing was ragged, but I refused to let the pain take over. I scanned the room and saw Derek struggling, caught in a chokehold with a knife pressed to his throat. As I took a step forward to help, one of the men tackled me to the ground.

They roughly hauled me to my feet and began dragging me somewhere, I had no idea where. The man guiding me slid his hands lower toward my waist, his other hand creeping toward my chest.

I didn’t hesitate-I headbutted him with all the force I could muster, sending him stumbling backward.

“Get that damn bitch under control!” The leader of the cellblock shouted, his voice full of anger.

One of the men sneered at me, stepping in close. “That’s alright, we’re gonna put her to good use in a minute.”

They shoved me into a large open room, its harsh lighting blinding me for a moment. My heart raced, and I quickly assessed the situation. I had to stay calm, keep my head in the game-Derek was still at risk, and I was in no shape to let these men think they had the upper hand.

The blood from the cut on my forehead started to drip into my eyes, blurring my vision. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear it away, but the haze only made everything feel more disorienting. My head pounded, but I refused to let it slow me down.

Then, I heard another man shout as he rushed into the room. “Weeks! What the fuck are you doing? These are feds! Anything happens to them, we all get a needle in our arms.”

Weeks, the leader of the group, shot a glare at him. “Shut up!” he snapped, clearly frustrated as he tried to figure out what to do next.

Morgan, his voice urgent, spoke through the chaos. “Listen, we know about Shavers. We know about everything! We’ll get you justice, but first, you’ve got to let us go.”

I glanced toward the entrance just in time to see Officer Polinsky stumbling in. He was dragged to the ground by one of the inmates, who started kicking him mercilessly.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out, echoing through the room. It hit the inmate square in the chest, dropping him instantly to the ground. The sound of boots pounding against the floor followed as a SWAT team burst through the doors, yelling, “Everyone get down!”

My brain registered the chaos around me, but it was like a fog had settled in. The adrenaline I had been riding began to fade, and everything felt heavier. I could feel the exhaustion and blood loss catching up to me. I barely had time to react before my legs gave way, and I collapsed to the ground, unable to hold myself up any longer.

I barely had time to register the shouts around me before my knees buckled. The ground rushed up to meet me, but I barely felt it. The last thing I saw was the blur of movement-Morgan’s voice calling my name-before everything faded to black.