Evan wore a suit and silk blouse to the station to interview Rollins. She looked every inch the FBI agent as her heels clicked on the cement floor of the hallway to the interview rooms. The art of getting information out of a suspect began with the psychological impact of a cold room, a chair with one leg a little shorter than the others, and gray concrete walls that felt like prison had already started.
She stopped in the observation room first, to get a look at the man they’d been trying to find for months. Thinning blond hair was combed over to try and hide the bald patch. His skin was lightly tanned, but somehow he still looked pallid – probably caused by the night in a cell. His suit was wrinkled, his button-down shirt had a stain, and his tie had been taken away, along with his belt and shoe laces. One hand was cuffed to the bar on the table and he fidgeted enough that the chair was in constant motion due to the shortened leg.
“How long has he been in there?” Evan asked.
“About an hour and a half. We let him up once to use the bathroom, but he’s not had water or food since six this morning,” the tech said. He would record the interview with voice and cameras that caught more than one angle so they could study his body language.
“Okay, let me grab a cup of coffee and a bottle of water, and get this thing started,” Evan said. “Coffee for me, but not him. If he loves coffee, the smell will drive him crazy. Bottle of water so we can get his DNA.”
“Sounds good. Good luck, Agent Wylder,” the tech said.
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