Collard Greens and Catfishing

by Kelsey Browning

  “Yes,” she said, leaning on his desk and providing a clear view down her shirt.

  “Several of these are local. Love ’Em or Leave ’Em Florist and the farmers market. Are you sure you didn’t just buy something and forget about it?”

  “Positive,” she said, folding her arms across her chest, making even more cleavage. “I only use this card for emergencies and very important stuff. I know exactly what I’ve used it on.”

  Almost everything on the paper was highlighted in fluorescent pink. Would have been easier if she’d have highlighted just the two things she’d charged. “And which are your two charges?”

  “A tooth-whitening session from my dentist, Dr. Evans,” she said, “and creating a profile at ThePerfectFit.com.”

  Emergencies? If the dating site was as successful as that tooth whitening had been, the girl would be married before he figured out who had charged her card. Most of the charges were just a few dollars each. “I’ll make a copy of these for the report, then I’ll poke around and see if there are any similar complaints.”

  Well, hell. Looked like Teague had a good reason to register for that dating site after all.

  * * *

  Lillian watched her bunkmate fuss with her bed corners, pulling them taut and straight. Probably the best job Dixie had done on that sheet the entire time Lil had been at Walter Stiles. Finally, Dixie said, “I’ll miss you, Miss Lillian.”

  Lil stepped forward and hugged her. Not a pat-on-the-back hug, but a real Southern hug. “I’ll miss you too, dear. You be good out there, and don’t you let anyone stand between you and your dreams.”

  “I won’t.”

  “And when I get out of here, I want you to come visit me in Summer Shoals. You’ll love Summer Haven. I’ll serve us tea—”

  “And I can use all that etiquette stuff you taught me.”

  “You most certainly will,” Lil said. Dixie was squirming a little in her hold, but it was hard saying goodbye to the first person who’d taken her under their wing. Because when she was getting settled into prison camp politics, Dixie had been the only one willing to stick her neck out for her. “You’ll do great things, so keep me posted on all those.”

  “I will.” Dixie moved out of Lil’s embrace, but she seemed reluctant. “I want you to promise me you’ll keep a safe distance from Martha. She’s like a feral cat. Just when you think you can trust her, she’ll bite you. And you know her so-called friendship comes at a cost.”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  A guard slapped the cinderblocks that surrounded their pod and told Dixie, “Time to go.”

  “Bye, Miss Lillian.”

  With a silent wave, Lil let Dixie pass. Lord, part of her felt as if she was losing the only friend she had in this place.

  The guard lifted her chin toward Lil. “Warden wants to see you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Lil was beginning to dread these little visits with the warden. Martha’s volatile reaction to the whole beautification project was proof the warden was working her own agenda and didn’t care if it put Lil in a bad position.

  Lil took her time making her way across the camp. At a hallway window outside the warden’s office, she paused to gaze across the courtyard. Stalling a little, but also looking for Dixie since this window provided a sliver of a view to the parking lot. She stood there until she saw her former bunkmate walk out with someone and get into a car. A moment later, the car left the protected area.

  Dixie was free.

  Tears tickled Lil’s lashes. How she longed for that feeling again.

  A sudden shroud of loneliness weighed on her. But rather than wallow in what she couldn’t change, she pressed the button, requesting entry to the warden’s office.

  Someone on the other side pressed the buzzer, and the lock disengaged with a clunk. Lil pulled open the heavy steel door and stepped inside.

  “She’s expecting you,” the warden’s assistant said.

  Warden Proctor motioned Lil into her office. “How’re the projects coming along?”

  “Doing the best we can.” As if she’d had time to do more than make a list of all that needed to be done. A very long list.

  “I need on target and on time. No wiggle room on this one.”

  Lil wanted to just sink to the floor and cry. Why couldn’t the warden have picked one of the young girls who had so much energy they were always in trouble? “I won’t let you down.”

  Her mother’s words drifted through her mind. Good girls don’t tell lies, Lillian.

  Well, Momma, good girls don’t go to prison either.

  “I know you won’t, and that’s why I have a wonderful surprise for you,” she said.

  No more surprises. Because the warden’s surprises were less reward and more penalty.

  “With Dixie’s departure, along with several others over the past few weeks, I’m shuffling people around in the dormitories and cottages,” the warden said, breaking into a warm smile. “You’re among the relocations.”

  Worry squirmed inside Lil. She liked where she was. Yes, it would be lonely without Dixie, but Lil had gotten used to the other women, the sounds and smells, and her little corner of the unit.

  The warden handed her a unit transfer form.

  Lil glanced at the familiar abbreviation and gulped.

  “You’ll now be sharing quarters with Martha Davilo,” the warden said.

  “Oh, no.” Panic flowed through Lil like porcupines on parade.

  “You don’t have to thank me. Think of your move to a cottage as a reward for the positive impact you’ve had through the etiquette classes. Oh, and a little advance bonus for helping Walter Stiles’ doors stay open.”

  Thank her? The woman had just handed her a ticket to a hard time. “Warden, this is generous but not necessary.”

  “It’s done.” The handsome woman squared her fullback-sized shoulders. “Besides, the cottage beds are better than the bunk beds.”

  Warden Proctor had taken a little pity on Lil from the time she entered prison camp, but this move wasn’t a boon. “I…I’m not quite sure what to say.”

  She wasn’t tongue-tied because she was so thankful for the warden’s generosity, but because Lord have mercy, Martha would flat-out die when she found out about her new roommate.

  “Take the relocation form to the guard station in your unit immediately,” the warden told her.

  “Right now?”

  “Yes. You’ll be all settled in before dinner.” The warden smiled, looking so pleased with herself. “Now you have a wonderful day. Ciao.”

  Ciao? This delusion the warden had about casting herself as some kind of institutional cruise director was irritating.

  Lillian plodded out of the warden’s office with the pressure of this newest disaster on her shoulders. Every time things started leveling out for her, something went wonky here or at Summer Haven. As tired as she was, this was the kind of day that made Lil wonder if she’d live long enough to get out of Walter Stiles. And even if she did survive, would Summer Haven survive her absence?

  An hour later, Lil hand-trucked her belongings across the courtyard toward Martha’s abode. Hers was a much nicer section of the prison camp, dotted with small cottages. Lil should feel excited, but instead she was reluctant to put one foot in front of the other. Because Martha would be surprised when Lil walked in, and it wouldn’t be a happy kind of surprise. And by darned, she was tired of constantly having to smooth that woman’s ruffled feathers.

  When Lil thumped the hand-truck up the cottage steps, one of Martha’s girls stepped out of the shadows with her arms folded to block the way. “What do you think you’re doing here, granny?”

  “Moving in.”

  The woman scoffed. “Don’t think so.”

  “Warden’s orders.”

  “Like I care.”

  “This isn’t your affair.” Lil tried to edge around the woman, but she sidestepped to thwart her.

  “You think it makes you all popular when you
talk snooty like that?”

  “I’m not here to win a prison popularity contest,” Lil said calmly, trying to defuse the situation. “I was instructed to move locations, and that’s what I’m doing.”

  “You may act like you’re so smart, but granny, you’re a total wing nut if you think I’m gonna let you cut in the long line to be one of Martha’s girls.” After an extended staring contest, the woman, smirk firmly in place, finally stepped aside and waved her arm as though allowing Lil entry to the queen’s throne room.

  Which in a way, Martha was the queen.

  Lil wheeled her belongings inside the cottage and, at the look on Martha’s face, stopped short, causing the hand-truck to ram her Achilles tendon. That was definitely not an expression of surprise. Murder, maybe. But not surprise.

  Lil drew herself to her full height, which wasn’t much to write home about since she’d shrunk to under the five-foot mark. “The move wasn’t my idea.”

  “Never is.” Martha’s lips were stretched into such a tight line that Lil could barely see them.

  Four of Martha’s girls stepped inside, forming a line across Lil’s only escape. If they’d held hands, the scenario would look like a game of Red Rover. But they weren’t smiling or inviting Lil to come over. “I know you’re not happy about this,” she said to Martha.

  Martha tugged on her greenish-beige shirt. “You think?”

  “Martha, why can’t we be friends?”

  “You know, Miss H&M, I kinda thought we were there for a while, but then you stabbed me in the back.”

  The line of women snickered and mumbled, making the hair on the back Lil’s neck stand on edge.

  “I already told you that I don’t know why the warden asked me to spearhead this project instead of you, but I promise it was not by my design.”

  “Promise? Yeah, you know promises don’t mean much around here, case you hadn’t noticed.” Martha mumbled a few words under her breath that were not on Lil’s approved etiquette class vocabulary, but she wasn’t about to stir up that hornet’s nest.

  Instead, she sucked in a breath to power through the conversation. One thing she’d learned about Martha was not to show worry. Any sign of weakness, and she would take advantage of the chink in Lil’s thin armor. “We’re roommates now, and that isn’t going to change so we can make the best of it or be miserable. I plan to make the best of it. And as for that beautification project of yours, you may as well resolve yourself to helping me with it. Otherwise, you’ll be chewing on that bitter pill for the better part of this week and that’ll only put frown lines on your forehead.”

  Martha raised her eyebrows as if to chase away those frown lines. “You want me to help you?” She laughed. One look from her to her posse and they also mustered up an audience laugh track.

  The echoing laughs swirled around Lil as the other women formed a semicircle behind her. She’d never before suffered from claustrophobia, but now her nerves were jumping and her breath was hitching. Stay in control.

  Lil raised her voice above their ruckus. “No, I want to be your assistant. This is too big for me to accomplish alone.”

  Martha snapped a finger and everyone went silent. “I’m listening.”

  Regardless, Lil’s heart was still doing jumping jacks. “As I see it, there are two clear projects here. The people and the place. I’ll lead the people part. The dress for success, the interviewing portion, and all the things that align with the etiquette class, and you help me.” She took a deep breath. Martha hadn’t balked yet. Maybe. Just maybe this would work. “You lead the grounds beautification part, and I’ll help you.”

  “Coming from you, Miss H&M, that’s a big surprise.”

  “You know a lot more about what we can get accomplished in a quick hurry around here.” She waved at Martha’s manicure, which was always fresh and creatively designed. “Besides, you have a stylish flair. And you know how to pull it off with limited resources. Doing things like fashioning barrettes out of plastic paperclips and toilet paper takes skill and talent. That should translate nicely to the grounds. I figure you already have a hundred ideas to improve the courtyard.”

  “I do,” Martha agreed. “Too bad we can’t fancy up the uniforms while we’re at it. No matter how pretty the grounds look, these frumpy outfits still suck. Did the warden also mention my idea about using some old uniforms we found in the laundry locker room? Because that was mine too.”

  “No, nothing about that. Probably because she thinks the interviewing skills, camp beautification and old fashioned hospitality toward the BOP folks will make the biggest impression.”

  “You said yourself that good grooming makes a good first impression.”

  “True, but we’re under a time crunch. Maybe if we win over the BOP people, the uniforms will be the next project the warden throws our way.”

  “Humph,” Martha grunted. “Your way, you mean.”

  Behind her, Martha’s girls were whispering to one another. She prayed they weren’t cooking up an ambush plan.

  “No, we’re in this together,” Lil said. “Now that she’s put us in the same cabin, she won’t be able to so easily hoodwink me. So if the warden offers me another project, I’ll insist she name you co-organizer.”

  Martha angled her head as if considering Lil’s suggestion. “Co-organizer sounds like one of those ten-cent words that don’t mean a thing. If you want me to have your back on this project, I need a little something in return, like full control over the flowerbeds and grounds improvement. What I say goes, period.”

  Lil drew in a quiet breath. She really had no evidence Martha could pull off the camp beautification, but what other choice did she have? “That sounds reasonable.”

  Finally, Martha nodded once and said, “Then I’m in.”

  When Martha’s girls backed off, relief flooded over Lil. Sometimes manners could still win the day. “That’s settled then.”

  “Oh,” Martha said conversationally, “and don’t forget your grannies have something I want. If you’re even thinking about telling them to renege on the OnceUponATom deal, your septic system won’t be the only thing that needs help.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “No, I’m reminding you that a deal is a deal.”

  “My girls are still gathering information about your niece’s predicament.” Lil wanted to cross her fingers at the fib, but couldn’t risk it with the toughs still in the room.

  Martha shifted to the edge of her bed. “Really?”

  “I can’t give you any details yet, but rest assured they’re making good progress on our side of that deal. So get your septic guy to clear his calendar.”

  “No worries on my end. My guy will come through as long as your girls get their shit together before something bad happens to my niece.”

  “Believe me, my gals aren’t dragging their feet. They know your deal is no good to me if we’ve already failed the historic preservation inspection.”

  “Convenient timing,” Martha commented. “A week to complete this BOP project you and the warden are taking my credit for, and six days for your shitters.”

  Lil knew what Martha was saying. Tit for tat. She wanted information from Maggie and the others. If she didn’t get it, she wouldn’t come through on the septic system, and she’d probably sabotage the warden’s project to keep Walter Stiles open. And, with the support of her posse and the handful of guards in her pocket, an angry Martha could and would cook up something to keep Lil’s hind parts in Walter Stiles for her entire sentence. She couldn’t risk that.

  “The timing is a coincidence, but I will make good on my promises—both to find information that will help your niece and to cut you in on the BOP project.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” Martha grabbed a towel from the rack next to the curtain. “Now that we’ve settled everything, I’m grabbing a shower.”

  While Martha was showering, Lillian slipped out of the cottage to call Summer Haven. She had to confirm the girls were ma
king progress. The last thing she needed was for Martha to figure out she’d stretched the truth. Fine. So she’d flat-out lied, but it had been necessary.

  “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” Lil whispered as she stepped off the porch into the courtyard. Heavy rain spit down on her head, and she glanced skyward. “Really? I’m in prison, what did you expect?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Maggie hobbled toward the ringing phone on Lil’s desk, waving away Abby Ruth’s attempt at help. Maggie’s foot wasn’t as sore as it had been, but she was still favoring her good foot in a way that had her loping around like a zombie. If she started hissing, she’d wonder if one of those flesh-eating bacteria Sera was worried about hadn’t really taken hold. “Hello?”

  “Mags, how are you?”

  The familiar voice caught her off guard. She wasn’t expecting to hear from Lillian. “Lil? Is everything okay?”

  “Of course,” Lil’s voice was smooth and upbeat, but Maggie knew that Lil’s phone privileges cost her a pretty penny so she wouldn’t dare squander them just for a simple hello.

  “What’s going on?” Mixed feelings of pleasure and suspicion surged through her.

  “I need an update on that man Martha’s niece has been dating. Martha won’t call her septic guy until we give her some…I think it’s called intel. With the inspection coming up, it’s time to make Martha happy.”

  Maggie felt her hackles rise. She tried to breathe through it, but they wouldn’t be appeased and were still standing at attention.

  Abby Ruth and Sera hovered close by.

  She didn’t want to snipe at Lil while the girls could hear. No sense in dividing the troops. So she limped out onto the back porch and closed the kitchen door behind her. “I’m on it, Lil.” Not the boyfriend thing, but the septic. Sometimes being less specific was safer…even if it was a little white lie.

  “Thank goodness.” Lil let out a sigh. “I knew I could count on you. What have you got?”

  Maggie’s mind whirled. Okay, so this was where that white-lie thing became less convenient. She’d never been all that good at thinking on her feet, and with stitches in one of them, the painkillers were making it even harder to think fast. “Doing some digging. Going through some paper. A lot of it’s a mess, but we’ll get there.” That was good!