The heavy steel door of the annex swung open.

Two federal agents stepped out into the glare.

Glenn shuffled slowly between them.

He had on a bright orange jumpsuit, with heavy chains around his waist and wrists.

The metal links clanked together with every short step he took.

“He’s being transferred to the federal holding facility in Charleston for processing,” Hayes said.

Glenn stopped at the back bumper of the transport van.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw me standing in the shade of the awning.