It wasn't always in Isaac's nature to keep calm and carry on. He'd learned a fair amount of patience through law school, and even more as a father, but it wasn't until he lost his wife and children that his emotions became either the highest of highs or the lowest of lows. It's easier to remain blisfully numb and not sweat the small stuff when, really, shit could be so much worse. Since Demi somehow found her way into his life though, it's become harder and harder to check out and just roll with the punches.
Truth be told, he's fucking furious right now and not just at Olinger for holding Demi all night without alerting him. Assuming he's able to keep Demi from La Quinta once again, she's going to be getting a goddamn earful later. So his whole patience act? Running a marathon just after he finished law school had been a cakewalk compared to remaining as neutral and restrained as he is right now. But he knows how to play this game. He's already had to play it once before when he first got Demi out of La Quinta, and he's not about to fuck it up now.
He sips at his coffee slowly, listening to Reason, though does his best to show no kind of reaction. It's nothing he hasn't been expecting them to say, though it still grates on his nerves for the man that allowed Demi to be violated repeatedly for information act as if she's the only criminal in question. He just knew that Demi going to Thanksgiving at the LBJ was a bad idea, no matter how good of a friend Savannah Posey had been to Demi back in the day. All sighs point to LBJ working with the Hellhounds and no matter how you slice it, given Demi's previous residence and her stint in La Quinta, her going there was always going to look bad. So he can't even dispute that. Instead he pushes away the sinking feeling in his stomach and shrugs at the Warden, eyes narrowing slightly as he examines it. "It's a phone. And I know Demi obviously has one. I have a feeling you have information that I don't about that phone in particular?"