Silas sat alone in the holding cell, his back against the wall and his hands resting on his knees.
The room was small, cold, and almost empty. A metal bench ran along one side, while a thick glass panel separated him from the corridor outside. He had been there long enough for the first anger to disappear and leave something more useful behind.
Thought.
He had been arrested for further questioning after the IRS investigators decided that the allegations against him required more than an interview. His lawyer had already been informed, and Silas had been allowed a few calls under supervision.
He had used those calls carefully.
The first had been to his lawyer.
The second had gone to someone he trusted enough to answer without asking too many questions.
"We'll talk later."
That was what people said when they wanted distance.
Silas picked up the phone again and called another number.
The line rang several times before a voice finally answered.
"Silas."
"Where are you?"
