It was mid-afternoon on Saturday when Mox strolled into the Roman's kitchen looking for a snack. He suddenly stopped when Roman looked up from where he was making himself a salad.

Roman smirked, noticing that Mox was wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing when he left for his date the previous evening. Then he busted out laughing. "You had the same expression on your face the night Dad caught us sneaking back in way after curfew."

"Don't remind me," Mox groaned. "I wasn't sure either of us were going to survive your Mom's lecture."

Roman snorted. "I wasn't sure we were going to survive Dad's punishment." He lowered his voice in a fair mimicry of Sika's rumbling tone. "Don't worry about your yard, Mrs. Adkins. The boys will be happy to mow and weed it for you. And trim the hedges. Oh, Father Simmons, the boys will be more than happy to help wash all the church windows. They have plenty of spare time on their hands."

Mox joined his brother in laughing then he swiped a carrot and began eating it. "Seth asked about you last night…if you were joining us. I kinda fubar'd the answer." He shrugged uncomfortably. "I didn't want to lie," he mumbled.

"No reason you should," Roman evenly replied. "And I appreciate your discretion." He thought for a few seconds then shrugged. "I'll give him a call later. I think I can trust him."

Mox slowly nodded almost in surprise. "Yeah, I think I can, too."

"So, how did it go last night?" Roman casually asked as he chopped some peppers. He ignored Mox taking some for himself. "Everybody make kissy-kissy nice-nice with each other?" He looked at his brother in surprise when Mox choked on a slice of green pepper.

Mox threw Roman a dirty look and walked to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water.

Roman waited until he'd drank half the bottle then innocently asked, "Something I said?"

"Could've phrased it differently," Mox grumbled. "Yeah, everybody got along. Alexa and Nikki became kindred spirits and besties. Both of them have appetites that would put a lumberjack to shame." He ignored Roman's laughter. "Then both of them and Seth dragged me onto every damn ride that would flip us up and over and around and around."

"Sounds like fun," Roman admitted. "Rest of the night go okay?"

Mox sarcastically snorted. "You mean my babysitters didn't report that I spent the night at Alexa's?"

Roman slowly turned his head to look at his brother. "No. I don't get reports of what you do, where you go or who you're with. They're present just in case of trouble," he quietly spoke. He picked up his bowl of salad and walked into the dining room.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Mox grunted under his breath. He grabbed a stalk of celery and his bottle of water then followed Roman to the dining room. "Roman, I'm sorry," he quietly said as he sat down next to his brother. "I was way outta line with that remark."

Roman nodded, keeping his attention on his salad. "Yes, you were."

"It's just…" Mox took a deep breath, staring down at the table. "Alexa means more to me that just some casual hook-up. Last night was…really special."

Roman was suddenly reminded of when they were in their teens, one of them sneaking into the other's bedroom late at night to share whispered confidences about girls and dating. He put down his fork and put his hand on Mox's arm.

"And I'm sorry for my tone of voice. I was out of line with that."

Mox shrugged. "I deserved it."

Roman silently shook his head and resumed eating. He watched Mox out of the corner of his eye as the younger man silently ate the celery. "By the way, a couple of boxes arrived for you," Roman casually spoke. "Parts for your cycle. I had them put in the garage. I thought maybe the two of us could work on the bike tomorrow."

"Can't," Mox grunted. "Got a call from Regal yesterday afternoon. Angle wants to meet with me tomorrow morning." When Roman looked at him in surprise, he shrugged. "He wanted to make it sooner, but I wasn't gonna mess up my date with Alexa, and Regal had something going on today. So, we're meeting him in Regal's office tomorrow morning."

Roman leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. "That…doesn't sound good," he finally commented.

Mox shrugged. As far as he was concerned, it was never good when a member of law enforcement wanted to talk with him.

Neither Mox nor Roman were aware of the person in the hallway who'd overheard their entire conversation.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

William Regal silently damned Federal Agent Kurt Angle once he saw that Mox hadn't apparently gotten a good night's sleep. 'Hope the lad is on his toes.' He mentally promised himself he would call a halt before Mox wound up in the same condition as after the first interview. He'd been seriously worried about letting him drive home that evening.

"We'll make this short no matter what Angle wants," Regal quietly promised as he shook Mox's hand.

Mox shrugged and followed Regal down the hall to Regal's conference room. Angle looked up when Regal opened the door and Mox saw a look of relief on his face. 'Did he think I wouldn't show up? He would've just sent cops to Roman's house to drag me in.'

"Thank you for coming," Angle said as he stood and held out his hand to Mox.

After a second's hesitation, Mox silently shook Angle's hand then saw down next to Regal.

When Angle sat down, he inwardly sighed. "I'll come straight to the point. Two of the witnesses against Warden Cole have died. The third has recanted his testimony."

Mox's eyes narrowed as Regal suddenly sat forward.

Regal studied Angle for a few moments. "You're not joking," he flatly commented.

Angle shook his head. "Dr. Michael Hayes was our only witness who could connect Warden Cole with prisoner abuse. The guards who have agreed to testify in return for reduced sentences can supply indirect evidence. But Dr. Hayes was the only one who directly spoke with Warden Cole and could testify as to his refusal to take action regarding the abuse."

Regal glanced at Mox, curious as to his non-reaction. Then he returned his attention to Angle. "How did Dr. Hayes die?"

"Dr. Hayes was a recovering alcoholic," Angle explained. "He was in danger of losing his medical license and went into a recovery program. He'd been sober for three years when he became the physician at the prison. After he lost his job when the prison was, well, put under new management, he apparently began drinking again. After I interviewed him, he said he was scheduled to go back into a recovery program. But the earliest opening wasn't for another two months."

Regal sighed. "And he didn't stop drinking?"

"Apparently not," Angle grimly nodded. "His death was ruled a DUI by the local cops. I had the autopsy rechecked to confirm. His blood alcohol was almost 3.0. Someone called in a car being driven erratically then reported the car going into the river. Unfortunately, there's a lot of illegal activity in that area; and the caller was long gone by the time the local cops arrived on the scene. They found an almost empty bottle of Jack Daniels with a bar's logo on the label. The bartender confirmed Dr. Hayes was a regular and was regularly cut off and his car keys confiscated."

"Except for this night?" Regal frowned.

"The bartender…" Regal checked his notes. "…a Sammy Guevara gave a statement that Dr. Hayes was drinking with another man that night. A Dr. Steve Blake from Virginia who'd been asked to come and consult with a colleague on a case. The colleague, Dr. Davey Richards, confirmed the story. When Dr. Hayes started arguing with Mr. Guevara about being cut off, Dr. Blake invited him to drink with him. He then took Dr. Hayes' keys and said he would drive him home. Probably call a Uber to come back and get his car. According to Dr. Blake's statement, Dr. Hayes wanted to continue drinking the bottle Dr. Blake had purchased. An argument ensued when Dr. Blake refused to give Dr. Hayes the keys to his car. Dr. Hayes got the better of Dr. Blake and knocked him out. When he woke up, Dr. Hayes, the car, and the bottle were gone."

"He didn't report it to the police?" Regal asked.

"Said he was pissed off," Angle answered. "Admitted he should've reported it and appeared upset about what happened." He leaned forward. "That's where the locals ended the investigation."

Mox snorted but remained silent.

"My investigation showed that Dr. Steve Blake only exists on paper," Angle added. "Dr. Richards is now in Protective Custody as a material witness but so far has exercised his right to remain silent. And a Federal judge has sealed all records on this. The cover story provided to his employer is that he's taken a leave of absence to take care of serious personal family issues."

Regal breathed heavily, tapping his fingers on the conference table. "And the second witness?" he asked when it became apparent Mox wasn't going to speak.

"Dean Rawley, aka Mojo Rawley," Angle sighed. "Found dead in the fitness club where he worked. The autopsy showed he died of anaphylactic shock due to an acute allergy to peanuts. This allergy was confirmed by his prison medical records. Apparently, his allergy was so severe that if someone sitting next to him was eating peanuts and he inhaled, it could stop his breathing."

"So he was the one," Mox mused. He shrugged when the other two men looked at him. "Rumor was there was a big upheaval in the kitchen about some sort of severe allergy. Some ingredients were banned. Guys were also complaining they couldn't get any peanuts or candy with nuts in them."

"The investigating officers couldn't find anything sold by the fitness club that contained peanuts or peanut oil," Angle added. "The manager said they knew about Mr. Rawley's allergy and made sure their products didn't contain anything that could trigger a reaction. They also posted signs that peanuts and products with peanuts or peanut oil was prohibited on the premises. But they relied on people obeying those signs. The locals interviewed everyone who'd signed in that day, but everybody came up clean. The fitness center gives out a lot of day passes, usually through local hotels where travelers can get in a workout at a nominal cost."

"Let me guess." Regal coldly smiled. "Someone's name came up as a paper identity."

"Bingo. Maxwell Buck."

Regal mentally recalled the names of the witnesses Angle had previously provided. "That means Mr. Amore is the one who recanted."

Angle nodded, curiously glancing at Mox. "Mr. Amore's roommate…a Mr. Colin Cassidy…was found by Mr. Amore in their apartment when he returned from work. Mr. Cassidy had been severely beaten and remains in a coma to this day. We don't know who or how, but someone got to Mr. Amore. Probably in the hospital. Mr. Amore refuted his statement and has refused to speak with anyone about this case."

"So, I'm the only one left? Besides a few of the guards whose testimony will be tainted because they made deals. Right?" Mox calmly stated.

Before Angle could answer, Regal spoke up. "What are the chances you can get Dr. Hayes and Mr. Rawley's written statements read into the record at the trial?"

"Pretty good for Mr. Rawley," Angle nodded. "The defense is going to try and keep Dr. Hayes' statement out based upon his record of alcoholism and his official DUI death. I can't do much about that since the bartender can confirm he was heavily drinking that night. What I can do is argue before the judge that both deaths were suspicious because of the paper identities involved."

Regal coldly smiled again. "And the defense will argue that you have no evidence that this Maxwell Buck ever came into contact with Mr. Rawley. You'll have a decent chance with Dr. Hayes' statement if Dr. Richards would cooperate."

Angle grimaced but nodded. "Mr. Moxley, is there anything else you can tell us about any interaction between Dr. Hayes and Warden Cole?"

Mox shook his head. "Just what I told you in my official statement. The only time I saw them together was when I was in the infirmary. There were about six other prisoners in there with severe injuries. Cole came flying into the infirmary demanding to know why Hayes was coddling the prisoners."

"What were your injuries at that time?" Angle asked.

"Like I said in my statement. Two broken ribs, one cracked rib, and a dislocated shoulder…dislocated for the second time," Mox answered. "Courtesy of Brock Lesnar."

"Can you remember the names of the other prisoners?" Angle asked.

"Couldn't remember when I gave my statement to you and don't remember now," Mox answered.

Regal got Angle's attention. "You could probably determine their identities through the prison records."

Angle nodded. "Working on it." Then he heavily sighed. "Mr. Moxley, I'm going to ask you to agree to go into Protective Custody."

"No." Mox's answer was delivered in a flat tone of voice. "I spent five years in prison."

"Framed for a murder he did not commit," Regal quickly added.

"I'm not going back into another prison however comfortable it might be," Mox finished.

"I understand," Angle began.

"Do you?" Mox demanded, anger flashing in his blue eyes. "Five years of being beaten on a fairly regular basis. Told what to eat. Told when to eat. Told when to sleep and when to be awake. Told what to wear. Told what to do every single fucking minute of every single fucking day!"

Regal put a hand on Mox's arm. He was relieved when the other man calmed down.

"I'll remind you of two things," Angle calmly replied. "First, whoever is doing this didn't go after Mr. Amore. They went after his friend. You may be willing to take chances, but are you willing to possibly put your friends in danger?" He saw Regal about to speak and held up his hand. "And we all know that's a legitimate concern."

"And second?" Mox demanded.

"I don't need your cooperation to put you into Protective Custody."

Regal threw back his head and laughed. "Good luck with that. I'll have you before a Federal Judge within the hour you attempt it. One of your witnesses, a confirmed relapsed alcoholic, dies in a DUI. One of your witnesses, with a confirmed severe allergy to peanuts, dies from being exposed to either peanuts or peanut oil." He leaned forward. "I'll sink your case faster than you can imagine," he warned in a low tone of voice.

Angle concentrated on Mox. "You've already had one warning. Erich Rowan. Remember him? What if he knew you weren't at your business when he came looking for you? What if Mr. Rollins hadn't walked in when he did or that he didn't know how to defend himself and Ms. Cross?"

"Done your homework, haven't you, Mr. Angle?" Regal snarked.

"I try," Angle nodded. "Rowan refused to talk to the cops who arrested him without his attorney being present. Before I could question him, he was brought before a judge, was able to post bond and has conveniently disappeared. His attorney has refused to speak with me citing attorney/client privilege."

"I'll still testify in Court," Mox said as he stood up. "But no Protective Custody. I'll talk with my friends. They can make their own decision."

Angle and Regal also stood. "Mr. Moxley…" Angle began.

"I said no!"

Angle stared at Moxley for several seconds, then slowly nodded. He needed a cooperative witness…preferably an alive cooperative witness. 'I'll have to get a judge to agree to read Moxley's statement into the court record. Just in case.' He reluctantly sighed. "Let me know if you change your mind."

Mox curtly nodded and walked out.

"If you'll excuse me for a moment," Regal politely smiled, then followed Mox. He found Mox standing in the hallway outside of Alexa's office. "If you wish, I'll speak with her," he quietly offered.

"Roman's had people following me ever since the cops first wanted to talk to me about Renee Young's murder," Mox murmured as he began walking towards the reception area. "Alexa knows about them." He hesitated. "I'll ask Roman to put a team on her as well." He glanced at Regal as they reached the front door of the office suite. "You think I'm making a mistake, don't you?"

Regal hesitated. "I don't know. Honestly, I can see both sides."

"You'd go into Protective Custody, wouldn't you?" Mox curiously asked.

"In a heartbeat," Regal nodded. "But then I've not had your experience with having my freedom removed."

Mox slowly nodded. "I'll let you know what Roman says."