Steve waited as the guard finished frisking him and told him he could lower his hands. He took a few deep breaths. For a moment, Steve thought he might begin to lose it like he had on the docks with Kim, but whatever was starting to happen had stopped.
As he followed the guard down the prison hallway, Steve also tried to put the argument with Kayla out of his mind. She did not understand, and he knew she probably never would. She would never understand what it was like to not be in control of yourself, and Steve could not take the chance that he would lose control around her or Stephanie.
"You can wait here," the guard said.
Steve hated waiting, but he did not really have much choice. He began to pace back and forth across the room. Every once in a while, he glanced over at the row of empty chairs facing the plexiglass divider. Steve had arrived at the very end of visiting hours and had nearly been turned away, but one of the guards recognized his photo from Jack's article in the Spectator and agreed to let Steve come in.
After about five minutes, the door on the opposite side of the plexiglass opened and a guard escorted in a man wearing a grey prison uniform. Steve watched him as he walked from the door to the chair.
Beside the smug, haughty expression on the man's face, there was surprisingly little remarkable about Lawrence Alamain. He was thin and not particularly imposing. His short brown hair was brushed back from his face. If it were not for his eyes, Lawrence Alamain would look like your run-of-the-mill mid-level executive or accountant.
But the eyes stood out. There was something about them that made Steve hesitate. Lawrence's eyes showed no emotion. They were cold and unfeeling. Steve had seen a few men with eyes like that - Harper Devereaux for one. And like Harper, Steve could already see how Lawrence could probably appear charming to many people, even while he plotted to knife them in the back. In an instant, Steve knew Lawrence Alamain was a very dangerous man.
Lawrence had taken a seat on his side of the plexiglass partition and was sizing Steve up as well. Steve pulled out his chair, turned it around so the back faced the plexiglass and took a seat.
"You know who I am, dude?" Steve asked.
Lawrence shook his head. "Should I?" He spoke in a clipped, haughty manner that gave the distinct impression that he considered Steve beneath notice.
Steve snorted slightly. "You should know me, Alamain. I'm the guy you tried to kill in that boat explosion - the guy you took from his wife and daughter." Steve wanted to talk about the compounds and the testing, but he knew the ISA was trying to keep secret that Steve remembered any of that, thinking it would protect him from Lawrence. It was stupid really; Lawrence would never believe a story like that.
"Mr. Johnson," Lawrence's eyes widened in the pretense that he was surprised. "I had heard you returned to Salem. What a remarkable experience you must have had. But why would you be here? Obviously, as you're alive, your wife's and your ex-brother-in-law's suspicions that I killed you are demonstrably false."
"Don't play games with me, Alamain," Steve said, keeping his voice even. "We both know what you did."
"Do we?" Lawrence shrugged. "I don't have any idea what you're talking about."
Steve nodded. He understood the other man. He would play games and deny everything. Oh, he was smooth, and cold. But he was the type that eventually slipped up.
"So tell me, Mr. Johnson," Lawrence said, with a slight smile that did not reach his eyes. They still had that cold, emotionless look to them. "I gather it must have been quite a shock to learn about your wife's relationship with Captain Donovan." He shook his head. "I tried to warn them that were only hurting the people they professed to love."
"I'm sure you were very concerned for my family's welfare." Steve could not hold back on the sarcasm. "Was that before or after you tried to kill my wife, Jack and Bo with your earthquake?"
Lawrence studied him quietly for a moment. "I noticed you did not mention Captain Donovan in that list. Do I detect a hint of a strain between you and our good friend in the ISA?"
"Leave Donovan out of it," Steve said. "What's between him and me is between him and me."
"Of course, you would say that." Steve got the distinct impression that Lawrence was treating this conversation like a little game. "But you don't really believe it. You want to know all about what Mrs. Johnson was like after your 'death.'" He chuckled. "Well, from what I saw at my home, the good Captain fancied himself as your wife's protector. That must really be difficult for a man like you to hear - knowing your wife needed protection and you were not there to provide it. . . . Of course, Captain Donovan's vigilance was misdirected at me, when I posed no threat to Mrs. Johnson at all."
Steve nodded his head. "I see . . . You pose no threat at all to my wife and my daughter?"
"Exactly," Lawrence replied. "Or to you for that matter."
This guy is smooth, Steve thought. He had seen few men who could lie as easily as Lawrence. Most people let something slip when they lied; they had a 'tell' if you will. Steve got the sense that, if given a choice between telling the truth or lying, Lawrence would choose to lie - and would slip it in so easily, nobody would know the difference.
"I've got a suggestion for you, dude," Steve said. "If you want to claim you pose no threat to me and my family, you'd better stick to that. I'm not Donovan; I'm not limited by what the law allows. And I'm not a grieving widow with a baby. Look at me, Alamain. You may have tried to kill me, but I'm back and I'm strong. So keep that in mind before you consider doing anything to Kayla or Stephanie."
Lawrence smiled again. "Ah, Mr. Johnson, I do so appreciate your visit. However, your threats are pointless." Lawrence stood up from his seat. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but it's very nearly 6 p.m., and I would hate to be late for dinner. I'm sure you can find your way out. But thank you for the visit. You'll have to come again."
As he left through the doors on the opposite side of the room, Steve just sat and smiled. He knew what he was dealing with now, and Lawrence would never get the jump on him again. When Lawrence came after him the next time, Steve would be prepared.
The time would come, Steve knew. And when it did, he would make Lawrence Alamain regret ever hearing the name Steve Johnson. That's a promise.