Potter County Jail Roster Pdf 소설 & 이야기

He nodded towards the door. Jess knocked. “Come in.” Shouted the sheriff from the other side. She walked in and he gestured to give him a minute. She sat on the chair across from him and just listened to the one side of the conversation. “I want all of Belton, Clevlock, and Destor county looking for this guy. He’s a serial rapist, kidnapper and murder. This is everyone’s top priority do you understand me? I want this son of a bitch off the streets. Call me back if you find anything.” He hung up the phone and put his head in his hands. He dragged them down to his beard and leaned back in a stretch. Placing one arm on the arm of his chair and a fist to his mouth he looked at Jess throug

The doctor walks by me. "If there's anything you need, just call my secretary." I say, watching him open his briefcase. "Actually, Alpha. I would like to get started right away." He pulls out a list and hands it to me. "I need access to these prisoners." I grab his paper and read it. Two names stuck right out. "No. No fucking way. Anyone one else, but these two." The doctor folds his arms. "Cole Karver and Cain Brindle are the foundation for my profile. I'll need them to compare the innocent against."

Cars passed by, and red and orange lights reflected in puddles like memories that refused to fade. “Max,” he said suddenly. “Yes, sir?” “Do you still have contacts in the Department of Justice?” Max glanced briefly through the rearview mirror. “I do, sir. Is there something you need me to take care of?” Xavier was silent for a moment, then replied quietly, “Find out the list of parolees being released this month from Carden Penitentiary. Specifically anyone named William Wrenford.” Max looked at him again in the mirror but didn’t ask questions. “Understood, sir.”

"Mr. Sutherland, this is the strategic plan for the next quarter. Kindly review them at your earliest convenience." I took the documents from her, scanned through the report, and signed my name on it. "By the way, Mr. Sutherland," Susie continued, a hint of hesitation in her voice. "We received a call from Waverton Prison earlier. They said that several inmates wanted to see you." My hand paused for a second. I asked, "Who are they?" "Remy Lincoln, Karen Beech, and Sandra Leach." I leaned back against my executive chair, the images of those three despicable faces resurfacing in my mind.

He opened it and scanned it before he handed it to me. “This is a list of the prisoners. We maintain logs of everyone's current conditions. We update this information daily so that you can find their undiagnosed illnesses and injuries here. You can go from there.” I let out a breath and nodded as I scanned through the list. Each prisoner’s name was listed; those who didn’t provide a name were marked as blank, but all their cell numbers were included, so they should be easy to locate. I made a note of all the severe cases; those I feared wouldn’t make it if they needed to wait for treatment, and those I feared might already be dead.

Lindsay questioned in disbelief. “Why not? This county has gotten so weird it doesn’t matter what we’re told at this point,” Little Bob said with a shrug. “Then I guess we start on that stack that Cat has printed and go from there,” Wren said. “I will call Dillon and make sure that they stay away from that field, and he stays at the Jones’ house until later,” Lindsay said as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. They began going through the personnel files Cat had printed. Each was a single sheet showing the person’s picture and listing information such as name, position, hiring date, and termination date. Most were people no one had ever seen until they reached one Big Bob recognized.

“Last night, when Ramirez informed me, I didn't want to believe it, I thought it was a mistake, but I just received your complete file sent from the Pueblo Soreno police station.” Hearing that last sentence, Sara couldn't help worrying, and almost by reflex, she wanted to get up from her seat, but the voice of an angry Carlos stopped her. “Sara was enough!!” He took the folder and started reading as he went from corner to corner the entire cell. “Your file mentions: Theft, an illicit bearing of arms, extortion, drug possession, attack on an officer, and evasion.”

Nick thought he got all the pictures together and put them in the small box downstairs. He bent over and pulled the picture out of the dairy. The back of it said, The Town’s Misfits. It was dated over three years ago. It was in Danielle’s handwriting. Nick turned it around. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened as he gazed at a group picture of Lester Jenkins, Joe Jetsen, the sheriff, Bonnie Tarbox, Jesse, DA Jacobs, David, Danielle, George, ex-bouncer at Garvey’s, and the Garvey twins. Nick blinked. He couldn’t believe what he was looking at. They were all holding drinks. “What the fuck is this? Why would Joe be in a group picture with George, the sheriff, David, and Danielle?”

Nick and I take a seat, and the Captain passes us the jackets across the table. The folders contain Luccese's bank records and the profiles of our three suspects. The arrest record of the first guy, Tony Henderson, reads like a list of what to do to wind up behind bars. Everything from armed robbery to kidnapping, trafficking, and even some suspicion of rape charges, enough to get him on the registry. I looked up from the file to my Captain. "They don't get any better, Detective; the next guy, Harold Conner, was out on the fucking payroll for burning his victim alive. What kind of dumbass judge would turn a sicko like him loose?"

The lock disengaged with a loud thunk, and I was pushed inside. The intake office was colder than the hallway. Sterile white walls, a steel desk bolted to the floor, security cameras blinking red from the corners. Another guard waited inside, seated behind the desk, flipping through a file. He was older, salt-and-pepper hair, stocky build. His badge read Sgt. Heller. “Keaton Rhoades,” he read aloud, without looking up. “Age twenty-seven. Convicted of aggravated fraud, obstruction of justice, and manslaughter.” He lifted his eyes then, pale and bored. “Ten years. Maximum security. Lucky you.”