Joanna 'Jo' Walters watched her partner question Ian Baird through the glass. She had a frown on her face. Ian was a serial killer. At least that was what all their evidence pointed to. He was awaiting his time in court. And yet...Jo hadn't worked on the case. She was completing her transfer from Vice to Homicide when Ian Baird was arrested. She remembered it well, though. Everyone in Miami who turned on a television knew who Ian Baird was. He murdered seven people in a very short span of time.<br/><br/>Jo wondered what her father would think of Ian. Old Joe would say the asshole was full of himself. A narcissist who thought he was smarter then the cops. Her father had been a Homicide detective for over twenty years before he decided to finally retire. He had seen and heard a lot. He always told Jo you would never see it all, because some prick had to always out do what the last one did.<br/><br/>This letter was pointing to it and Jo's gut told her that Ian, the serial killer, knew a hell of lot more then he was letting on. And he was enjoying pissing Trace off. The more calm Ian was, the more pissed Sandin became. Good thing there were cameras, if they weren't...She had a feeling Trace would have snapped the asshole's neck. Jo jumped back slightly when Trace shattered the coffee mug. This was going to hell and fast. She studied Ian when he took a second look at the letter and the frown grew on her face. It was like he was seeing it for the first time. Which meant a cluster fuck was forming for them.<br/><br/>Jo nodded her head to Trace when he joined her.<br/><br/>"Yeah, I'll take a shot at the arrogant prick."<br/><br/>Jo said and walked into the interrogation room. She was a tall woman, five foot, nine and that was not in heels. She had a slim, athletic body. Jo had always been active, she used to be on the track time and played soccer and basketball in school. Her long brown hair was tied back into a neat bun. She was dressed in a gray pants suit, with a clean white blouse, her detective badge was on her waistband. Her high heels clicked as she took a seat across from Ian Baird. She didn't turn on the voice recorder, not yet. She didn't want what she said to become public record. Jo opened the folder she was holding and told him.<br/><br/>"You got some pretty nice privileges right now, Ian. Internet, television, kept away from the general population...."<br/><br/>Jo looked up at him and said.<br/><br/>"It'd be a shame if some of that was taken away, don't you think? It could happen, you know, if you decide to keep dicking us around. I'm sure some of your fellow inmates would love to get to know you on more 'personal' level. With your nice blond hair and blue eyes..."<br/><br/>Jo trailed off. It wasn't a secret to anyone that rapes were quite common in prisons. For many inmates it wasn't even because they were homosexual. It was a power thing, control. Those without protection, either by being isolated or with other inmates protecting them, were targeted by the biggest, baddest dog on the yard. Some had a type. Jo was sure that a blond haired, blue eyed man was someone's type in this prison. Jo let that sit with Ian a moment. He had it pretty nice right now as he waited for his hearing. Nice things could easily go away. Prison wasn't supposed to be a vacation. Jo reached over and turned on the voice recorder.<br/><br/>"Let's try this again...Have you ever seen this letter before today?"