I sat waiting in a windowless, narrow room built of concrete blocks. Between me and the hot summer day were three steel doors controlled by a deputy sheriff behind a closed-circuit monitor. Eventually, the sound of doors opening and closing told me that Kevin (a pseudonym) was about to join me. He was accompanied by another deputy who reminded me, as he had on previous occasions, that, “The buzzer’s broken, so just pound on the door when you’re done.” In came Kevin, dressed in a white T-shirt, gray sweat pants, and socks …