“Now.”
“Yes, sir,” he said.
He dropped his soapy sponge into the bucket of suds and followed me.
The moment we entered the chapel, I put Josh in a chair in the hallway so I could see him through the narrow strip of glass in my door, then went inside my office and called Anna.
“Would you pull Josh Mile’s file for me?” I asked.
“It’s sitting on my desk,” she said. “I think that makes me an enabler.”
“What’s he in for?”
“Not a whole lot,” she said. “You in your office?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“I’ll be right there.”
A few minutes later, I heard the chapel doors open and close, then Anna appeared at my door, an inmate file in her hand. When she came in, she looked back at Josh.
“What the hell’s he doing here?”
“He’s here for some spiritual counseling,” I said.
“By choice?”
“Anything strange in his file?” I asked.
She sat down in one of the chairs across from my desk, and I shifted slightly so I could still see Josh over her shoulder.
“This is not normal behavior,” she said.
“I know,” I said. “It’s obsessive. I need a girlfriend. Is there anything strange in his file?”
“No,” she said. “If there were, he wouldn’t be working outside the gate.”
“So why’d you come down here?” I asked.
“To try to keep you from doing something stupid,” she said, “but obviously, I’m too late.”
“I haven’t done much yet,” I said. “Why’d you bring his file?”
She handed it to me. “So you could see for yourself.”
I flipped through the relatively thin file. Josh was certainly not a recidivist. I quickly scanned the face card, which had his picture and emergency contact info, the commitment of custody, the contact log, and the various other documents that told the story of a model inmate. There were no disciplinary reports. There were no inmate requests. Josh Miles didn’t get into trouble and he didn’t ask for anything.
He was in on a possession charge, a little less than half of his two-year sentence remaining, followed by another few years of probation.
“Satisfied?” Anna asked.
“Almost never,” I said.
She nodded. “Isn’t that what all this is really about?”
“What the hell are you doing?” Keli asked.
She had walked into my office without knocking, even though I was on the phone. I quickly hung up and looked up at her. I had never heard her talk that way before. Her face was red, she was sweating, and her eyes were narrowed into angry dots.
“Trying to help you,” I said.
“You’re not helping,” she said. “You’re making things worse.”
“What things?”
“You promised you wouldn’t do anything today,” she said.
“I promised you I wouldn’t have him transferred,” I said.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“Because I care about you,” I said. “I don’t want to see you ruin your life.”
“Ruin my life—John, what are you talking about?”
“If you help Miles escape, you’re going to ruin your life.”
She opened her mouth but couldn’t get anything to come out.
I waited.
It took her a while, but she finally managed a soft, “What makes you think—”
“Why does he have to wash your car last?” I asked. “Even after he’s already done it today. Why do you have an extra uniform in your backseat? Why isn’t Kayla at school today? The three of you leaving town together?”
“If I give you the uniform, will you let Josh return to work?”
“Why is it so imperative for him to work this afternoon?” I asked. “Those vehicles can wait until tomorrow to be washed.”
I then realized why she was willing to give me the uniform in her car and why earlier in the day, I had the thought that she was moving like her clothes were too small.
“You’ll give me the uniform in your backseat?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“What about the one under the uniform you’re wearing?”
She shook her head. “You have no idea what you’re doing,” she said.
She then turned, and, without saying another word, stormed out of my office.
“What’s going on, Chaplain?” Josh asked.
I had called him into my office when Keli left.
“You tell me.”
“Whatta you mean?”
I didn’t say anything.
“Sergeant Linton looked upset,” he said. “Is she okay?”
I remained silent.
“I know how things work around here,” he said, “but I want you to know that I haven’t done anything wrong. Not one thing. Not so much as taking an extra roll when it’s offered to me in the chow line. So, if any of this has anything to do with me, it’s a misunderstanding. I swear.”
“What were you mixed up in when you got arrested?” I asked.
“Why?”
“I’m a curious guy.”
“I know how this is going to sound,” he said, “but it’s true and I can’t help how it sounds. I was holding some stuff for some guys I know and I got caught with some of it.”
I laughed.
“It’s true.”
“I wasn’t talking about what you were arrested for,” I said. “I’ve got your file. I can read that. I’m talking about what you were mixed up in.”
“That was it.”
“How many guys you know in the life get busted for everything they’re doing?”
“None,” he said, “but I wasn’t in the life. I was just—”
My phone rang and I answered it.
“Chaplain, it’s Patricia.”
Patricia was the admin lieutenant.
“Do you have an inmate Miles over there?”
“Uh huh.”
“Will you tell him to report back to work,” she said.
“Actually, we’re in the middle of—”
“The colonel says he’s got to go the chapel on his own time.”
“But—”
“Sorry,” she said, “but he said to tell you he’s not asking, to send him right now no matter what.”
I spent the afternoon in meetings and counseling sessions but was distracted and ineffective, and as it got close to the end of the admin shift, I was no good for anything. Clearing the chapel and sending the inmates back to the yard a little early, I made my way through the gate and back out to where Josh Miles was pretending to rewash Keli’s car.
“I’m back,” I said.
“You don’t quit, do you?”
“Not known for it, no,” I said.
“You afraid I’m gonna try to escape?”
“It’s crossed my mind,” I said.
“Why not just turn me over to security?”
I didn’t say anything.
“’Cause,” Merrill said, as he walked up, “ain’t enough to stop crime, we got to save somebody, too.”
“Me?”
“No, fool,” Merrill said, laughing, “Kel—Sergeant Linton.”
“We’re here for you, too,” I said.
“Well, you’re wasting your time,” Josh said. “I’m not going anywhere for about eleven months.”
“He got a point,” Merrill said me. “Why he gonna run when he’s so short?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “Josh?”
“I swear I’m not—”
“Why don’t you walk him back to the gate?” I said. “I’ll wait here for Keli.”
“Let’s go,” Merrill said.
“What about my cart?”
“I’ll take care of it,” I said.
“Okay.”
Merrill started walking toward the gate, and Josh joined him without hesitation. They disappeared around the cor
ner of the admin building and I began to place the remaining supplies into the crates on the cart as I waited for Keli.
It was about a quarter ’til four, fifteen minutes until the admin shift ended, and the parking lot was still empty. I hoped Keli would show up soon so I could talk to her without anyone else around.
I had finished putting all the carwash supplies away, and was standing near Keli’s car waiting for her, when I saw Josh and Merrill walking back in my direction.
“Change of plans,” Merrill said.
“Why’s that?” I asked.
To my shock, Keli stepped out from behind them with a gun.
I couldn’t have been more surprised by anything. Sure, Keli had been in the military, and, as a correctional officer, she had had training in firearms, but in spite of all this, she wasn’t a gun-carrying person. She was as opposite from femme fatal as you could get.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked.
“What I have to,” she said, glancing over her shoulder and looking around nervously.
“Keli—”
“John, just don’t,” she said, then turning to Josh, “Climb into the backseat of my car and put on the uniform.”
“But—”
“Now.”
With her free hand, she unlocked the car and Josh got into the backseat. We waited while he got dressed.
“I’m sorry about this, guys,” she said. “I wish you would’ve stayed out of it.”
“It’s not too late to stop this,” I said. “Only we know so far and we won’t tell anyone. Think about what you’re doing, the effects it’ll have on your life.”
As I spoke, I could see Merrill turning slightly, judging the distance between them, but Keli was smart. She wasn’t right behind him, the mistake most novices make. She had left enough room so that he couldn’t reach her.
In another moment, Josh Miles stepped out of Keli’s car looking like a correctional officer.
“Cuff him,” she said, nodding toward Merrill.
She handed Josh a pair of disposable strap cuffs, and he quickly placed them on Merrill. She then popped the trunk of the Ford Taurus next to hers and told Merrill to get in.
“How’d you—”
“I lied,” she said. “Told him I needed to move it.”
No one around here would question Keli or think twice about giving her their keys.
When Merrill was in the trunk, she slammed it closed.
“Get in my backseat and put on his uniform,” she said to me.
“Keli, what are you—”
“Now,” she said. “Hurry. I don’t want to shoot you, but believe me, I will.”
Looking into her desperate face, her crazed eyes, I knew she would.
I got in, changed quickly, and got out again, my dress shoes looking funny poking out from the pants legs of the prison blues.
Standing in front of Keli, I could see over her shoulder that Merrill had managed to push the seat forward and get free from the trunk, and was now in the backseat directly behind her. He had managed to cut through one side of the strap as well, the empty cuff dangling from the wrist of his other hand.
“Why’re you doing this?” I asked.
“I’ll explain it to you one day,” she said.
As Merrill moved around in preparation to pounce, Josh, standing not far from me, saw him, and I waited to see what he’d do. To my surprise, he didn’t do anything. Was he not a willing participant in his own escape?
Time was running out and Keli knew it. At a few minutes after four, the parking lot would begin filling with other COs and staff members. She had to act quickly.
When she glanced at her watch again, Merrill came flying out of the back door of the car behind her, tackling her to the ground, grabbing her gun hand and smashing it into the asphalt, the gun coming loose and landing at Josh’s feet.
He didn’t even try to pick it up.
“Get out of that uniform,” I said to him as I reached down and picked up the gun, “and get this one back on.”
As Merrill helped Keli, who was crying now, to her feet, I unbuttoned the inmate shirt I was wearing.
“John,” Keli said, “please don’t. Please don’t do this. Help me, please.”
“I am,” I said. “I’m—”
“You don’t understand,” she said. “They have my daughter.”
“What?” I asked in shock. “Who?”
“If I don’t have him at my house in ten minutes, they’re going to kill Kayla.”
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Keli asked.
“Absolutely,” I said, as if I were.
We were in her car, racing toward the old farmhouse she and Kayla rented. The rural highway we were on was empty, the forests and pastures beside it silent.
I was still wearing Josh’s uniform, in the pocket of which was the small revolver Keli had been pointing at us just a few minutes ago.
As we had pulled out of the institution, Merrill was walking Josh, in just his underwear, to the front gate. After coming up with a lie about what happened to Josh’s uniform believable enough to convince the control room, and getting Josh securely back inside, Merrill would be providing backup, approaching the farmhouse through the woods that bordered its north side. Hopefully this would be all over by then, Kayla safely back with Keli, and whoever was holding her hostage in the back of a Potter County sheriff’s deputy patrol car. I had called Dad for delayed backup, as well. We didn’t need loud sirens and a lot of excitable small-county deputies right now, but if we failed, they’d be close by.
“Who’s doing this?” I asked. “How many are there?”
“Two guys,” she said. “Young. I haven’t heard them use names yet.”
“What do they want with Josh?”
“Not sure exactly,” she said, “but I gather FDLE reached out to him in connection with some open cases that could really hurt these guys. Possession was the least of what Josh was into, but it’s all he got caught for.”
I thought about how nice and respectful Miles seemed, how dedicated to his family. That was the great disconnect of prison—the vast difference between how inmates appeared and what they were capable of doing. I had hoped Miles was different, but didn’t find it surprising that he wasn’t.
“Must be huge for them to do this,” I said.
“They seem desperate.”
When we neared the house, Keli stopped the car long enough for me to put on an inmate cap, the pair of strap cuffs that Merrill had had on, and climb into the back seat and lay facedown.
“Okay,” I said.
“John.”
“Yeah.”
“Two things,” she said. “If it comes down to it, save Kayla, don’t worry about me, and thanks for paying attention and being so observant.”
“Actually I’m told it’s obsessive,” I said, “but you’re welcome.”
Most of what happened next I only heard. I was facedown in the backseat, my hands in front of me. Keli pulled into her front yard at an angle, got out, walked around, and opened the back door, so the bottom part of my body could be seen from the house. If she did what we had discussed, she parked far enough away so the two guys couldn’t get a good look at me without coming out into the yard.
“I’M BACK,” Keli yelled from beside the car. “I brought him to you just like you told me to. Come get him and bring me my daughter.”
I didn’t hear anything at first, then a squeaky screen door opening.
The old wooden house had a wraparound porch that held rocking chairs and a swing, and a screen door on a spring that slammed shut loudly unless you held it.
“I did like you said. Just give me my daughter and go.”
One of the men must have said something, but I couldn’t make it out. All I could hear was mumbled words.
“I had to knock him out,” she said. “I gave him a shot. He’s out cold.”
There was another pause. This time I heard a few words, which meant at least one of the me
n was coming closer.
“Yes,” she said. “I wouldn’t risk my daughter’s life.”
The gun was in my hands beneath me. I thumbed back the hammer, hoping not to accidentally shoot myself and get us all killed.
“You roll him over,” Keli was saying. “But I want my daughter first.”
There was a longer pause this time, then the squeaking of the screen door again.
“Get that gun away from her head,” Keli said.
She had said it for my benefit, giving me as much information as she could without being suspicious. I would have to aim for the guy with Kayla on the porch, not the guy closest to me. Keli would have to take care of him. I had no idea how far away the porch was or if I could even get a clean shot off, and he could easily kill her before I could fire a single round. It would all depend on if he hesitated or not.
I found myself wishing Merrill were here or that I had asked Dad to do more than be backup, but whatever was going to happen was imminent, and would be over long before any of them arrived.
I felt large, strong hands grab my ankles and yank. I came flying out of the backseat and onto the ground face first, my head striking the car and the ground. I was disoriented and in pain, but as soon as I hit the ground I started rolling.
I could hear movement behind me, and I knew Keli was jumping the guy who had pulled me out.
“GET DOWN,” Keli yelled to Kayla.
She did, pushing away from the young white man who had her.
Not sure whether to shoot her or me, the man hesitated, and that fraction of time was all I needed.
I squeezed off a round.
It missed completely.
Another.
The second one found flesh.
I had been aiming for his right arm, the one holding the gun, but had missed and hit him in his right pectoral. He dropped the gun as crimson saturated his white Panama City Beach T-shirt.
Kayla scampered away from him on all fours.
Behind me, Keli and the other guy were rolling around on the ground.
As I turned toward them, his gun went off.
By the time I was facing them, the man was standing. Keli, bleeding into her light brown CO shirt, remained on the ground.
I was close to the man, close enough to hit whatever I aimed for, which was his gun hand. I put a round between his wrist and hand and he dropped the gun, yelling out in pain.
He fell to the ground as I jumped up.
Six John Jordan Mysteries Page 53
