“No, but Deputy Miller worked last night and I’m certain she went home to get some sleep.”
“She’s working overtime. Officer Barlow called in sick today.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is it possible to see the guards’ schedule the days Trudy and Lopez were murdered?”
“You should know who was working when Lopez was found dead.”
“Officer Barlow and Yates?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
The warden led us into the room where Eleanor and I questioned Barlow and Yates the day before.
The aroma of coffee had my mouth watering. From the smell of it, I was certain that it would taste much better than what we get in the chow hall.
“Can we have a cup of coffee?”
“Help yourself.”
The warden left and Eleanor poured the coffee.
“I wonder why she’s being so nice,” I said.
“I believe the warden is just as eager to have these cases solved as everyone else.”
“Probably more since it happened on her watch.”
We were stirring creamer into our coffees when Dr. Franks walked in the room, carrying a box of doughnuts.
My eyebrows shot up as he said, “I thought if I had to be in here being raked over the coals that I might as well brings some doughnuts.” He smiled.
“Is that some kind of psycho babble?” Eleanor asked. “Trying to butter us up so we’ll go easy on you?”
Dr. Franks sat down with the box still in his hands. “Of course not, but I must admit I’m surprised that the warden is allowing you to interview the staff. I hope you also plan to speak with the inmates.”
“I don’t think I care for your tone,” I said. “How about we ask the questions and you just answer them.”
His face darkened. “No wonder Barlow called in sick today.”
“I assure you it had nothing to do with us. Not unless it bothers her to be asked about the death of Lopez.”
“There seems to be a lot of that going on,” Eleanor said. “I know how people in your position might not understand inmates looking into the death of another inmate. As you might guess, inmates don’t really trust officers and people in administration.”
“I’ve been a psychiatrist for twenty years now and I’m not in the business of judging anyone, including inmates. I know the popular belief among the inmates is that the person who murdered Trudy Taylor is an officer.”
“Is there something going on between you and Officer Barlow?” Eleanor asked.
Dr. Franks cleared his throat. “What does that have to do with the murders of Trudy Taylor and Lopez?”
“It might explain why you two left the office area when Eleanor and I were cleaning here. Barlow was quite insistent that we needed supervision.”
“There was a potluck in the lounge room and I told Barlow to ask Lopez to look after you ladies.”
“So it was your idea for Lopez to come up to the offices that day?” I asked.
“You do know how guilty that makes you sound,” Eleanor said. “And you were in a hurry to leave your office as well.”
“Which is why we wondered if there might be a personal involvement between you and Barlow,” I added.
“The only contact I have with Officer Barlow is work-related.”
I nodded. “It was my understanding that you were with Officer Barlow the entire time she was in the lounge?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“So you’re not certain?”
“I’m quite certain we were.”
“Not even once?” Eleanor asked.
“Okay fine, she used the bathroom once. It’s not like I went with her in there.”
“And where is this bathroom located?”
“In the lounge.”
“That’s strange. Officer Yates told us it was in the hallway and that the one in the lounge is now used as a locker room.”
Dr. Franks’ eyes narrowed. “What does it matter?”
“It matters if you saw where Barlow disappeared to. It matters if you lost track of her completely,” I said, taking a breath.
“Barlow used the bathroom, but wasn’t out of my sight for more than five minutes.”
“So where were you when she was in the bathroom?”
“I was outside taking a smoke break.”
“But there’s no smoking on the prison grounds,” Eleanor said.
“I’m perfectly aware of the rules, but the warden was off site and it’s not like anyone cares.”
“There are rules in place for a reason,” I said.
“Yes, like the rules you broke that brought you here, you mean?” Franks said.
“We’re not the ones suspected of murdering Lopez.”
Dr. Franks shook his head. “Good luck proving that.”
“That’s a strange comment. All I know is that if you were out taking a smoke break you could have easily come to the warden’s lounge and offed Lopez.”
“Or Officer Barlow could have,” Eleanor added.
“Look, I have no reason to want Lopez dead. And if either me or Barlow came back to the office area, why didn’t either of you see us?”
“Who says we didn’t?”
“You couldn’t have because neither of us came back until after our lunch. Barlow was waiting for me in the hallway when I returned from my smoke.”
“How did you get along with Lopez?”
“Fine enough, but she wasn’t under my care.”
“Why not?” Eleanor asked. “I thought that would be part of rehabilitation.”
“Therapy doesn’t agree with everyone. Lopez appeared to handle herself just fine. That’s why she attained trustee status.”
“How long was she a trustee?”
“I can’t recall exactly. You’ll have to speak with the warden about that.”
“But we’re asking you,” I pressed.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”
“Was Trudy your patient?”
“I really can’t say. Patient confidentiality, you understand.”
“Except that Trudy is dead.”
“It doesn’t matter whether she’s dead.”
“Are you aware of whether anyone was harassing Trudy before her death?”
“I just told you that I can’t tell you.”
“So you can’t tell us whether you heard the officers speak about it amongst themselves?”
“Officers aren’t quite the gossipers you might think. It’s frowned upon by the warden.”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.”
“Barlow mentioned that the warden wasn’t there the day Lopez was murdered,” Eleanor said. “Where was she?”
Dr. Franks shook his head. “I’m sorry, but Felicia doesn’t report to me.”
“Felicia, eh?” Eleanor said. “Kind of familiar to be using the warden’s first name.”
Dr. Franks stood up. “Think what you want. I’m late for an appointment.”
We stepped into the hallway when the doctor left and motioned Officer Miller inside.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” I asked.
“Please, with sugar,” Miller said as she sat down.
I fixed Miller’s coffee and handed it to her. “I’m sorry to hear you have to work overtime today.”
“Only for an hour more. Officer Barlow decided to come in after all, which I’m happy about since I don’t usually work the nightshift.”
“I thought you only worked in quarantine.”
“No, I work in D Pod most of the time.”
“What’s the difference between D Pod from F?”
“F Pod needs more supervision, for one. D Pod is minimum security.”
“I see. Isn’t Kelly Nash in D Pod?” I asked.
“Kelly Nash? Yes, I believe she was moved to D Pod a few months ago. How did her name come up?”
“We heard that she had to be separated from Trudy Taylor. We thought she might be someone we need to speak with.”
“
I know the warden has allowed you to question inmates and officers in relation to the murders of Trudy and now Lopez, but I’m quite sure she doesn’t want you speaking to inmates from another pod who weren’t even in F Pod when Trudy died.”
“And how do you know what the warden is allowing us to do?”
“Because she told us there would be limits. I don’t even know why I’m here. I rarely work in F Pod.”
“I guessed as much, but I wanted to know what you’ve heard about Trudy Taylor. How did she get along with her fellow inmates?”
“Sorry, I can’t help you.”
“You must be aware of whether there were any problems,” I pressed.
“I can’t believe you had no clue why Kelly Nash was moved to D Pod,” Eleanor said. “I believe there was a relationship of sorts between Kelly and Trudy.”
“I don’t have anything to say further on the matter,” Miller said, standing up from the table.
“What’s the policy for taking inmates to the bathroom at night?” I asked.
She froze. “They’re escorted to the bathroom by an officer.”
“And where is the officer supposed to be during that bathroom run?”
“We don’t have to be watching them go, you know.”
“I understand that, but I expected a little more supervision. That’s all we have to ask since you don’t regularly work in F Pod.”
“Were you working the day Lopez was murdered?” Eleanor asked.
“I was in D Pod the entire day.”
I sighed when she left. It was quite apparent that interviewing Miller was a huge waste of time. I had no idea how long it was going to take to solve this case, but Eleanor and I couldn’t stay here forever.
Chapter Thirteen
We walked back to our pod empty-handed investigation-wise, and I was so lost in thought that I almost didn’t see Crusher barreling down on me. I stepped aside and we exchanged a glare that gave me chills. But I wasn’t about to allow Crusher to intimidate me. And now I wondered if she was the one trying to scare me.
I waved Yolanda over and asked, “When did you say D Pod would be here for the volleyball game?”
“It was canceled. It seems the warden didn’t think it was a good idea right now.”
I was beyond miffed and complained to Officer Schulze. “Can you believe the warden canceled the volleyball game between us and D Pod?”
She smiled. “For some reason I don’t see you two as volleyball players.”
“We’re not, but we had hoped to question one of the women from D Pod —Kelly Nash,” Eleanor said.
“I might be able to arrange something. Nash is in solitary, and I’m breaking the officer who works up there.”
“But won’t the cameras capture us going up there?”
“Yes, but you’ll be delivering the meal trays.” She winked.
Eleanor and I walked to the kitchen door and Schulze said, “Mason and Barton are taking the meal trays to solitary. So make it snappy and get them ready.”
“I don’t see why we have to do it,” I grumbled. “My last trip to solitary wasn’t a good one.”
“You had better not let Schulze hear you or you’ll be going there for a lengthy stay,” Teresa said. “On the other hand, maybe you should stay there because Crusher is gunning for you, Barton.”
“About what this time?”
“You didn’t think she was going to let the cornbread thing go, did you?”
“But that wasn’t my fault.”
“Crusher doesn’t understand or care whose fault it is. All she understands is crushing.” Teresa laughed, slapping her fist into an open hand.
I was rattled, but had to stay on task as we pushed the tray cart to solitary. We had no longer followed Officer Schulze in when we heard inmates making a ruckus.
“Calm down,” Schulze shouted. “Your chow is here.”
She nodded at us and we began handing trays through the slots as they were opened by Schulze. But at the last door, the mesh window was open. I stared at an inmate with long dark hair and pretty blue eyes.
“Are you Kelly Nash?” I asked.
“Yes, who are you?”
“I’m here to ask you a few questions about Trudy. We’re trying to find out who murdered her.”
Tears began coursing down Kelly’s face. “I hope you can. I only wish I hadn’t been forced to leave F Pod. It’s my fault she was murdered.”
“Why do you think that?” I asked.
“Well, my involvement with Trudy for one. I think that cellmate of hers was jealous about my relationship with Trudy and told the warden, because I was moved not long after I had an altercation with Lopez.”
“So Lopez snitched on you?”
“I’m pretty sure, but I can’t prove it.”
“How long was Lopez a trustee?”
“Just a few weeks before I was moved to D Pod.”
“But don’t the inmates frown on snitches?” Eleanor asked.
“Yes, but it was hard to prove who told the warden. Some of the inmates think an officer was responsible, but Trudy never had any problems with the officers before. She was a beautician, and styled the officers’ hair, too.”
“And her fellow inmates?”
“They idolized her. That’s why I heard they were talking riot. Well, that and because the warden wasn’t moving on the investigation. I’m not sure why she allowed you two on the case, but I hope you find out who murdered Trudy. I’d be careful with Lopez, though, she has the warden’s ear.”
“Not anymore; she’s dead.”
“Now that’s poetic justice.”
“If Lopez had you moved, I wonder why she would murder Trudy?” I mused.
“Maybe Lopez made a move on Trudy and she rejected her,” Eleanor suggested. “And she murdered Trudy so nobody would find out.”
“That sounds like Lopez. She’s a control freak and she wouldn’t like it if anyone found out she was sweet on another inmate,” Kelly said. “Unless someone found out she had snitched,” Kelly added. “I would have made sure the inmates knew it if I wasn’t removed from F Pod.” She sighed. “Perhaps if I had the chance, Trudy wouldn’t be dead now.”
“Don’t blame yourself for that,” Eleanor said sympathetically.
I paused for a moment before I finally said, “Thank you, Kelly. You’ve given us something to think about. We don’t have much more time.”
“That’s all we have here,” Kelly said, “time.”
Eleanor and I stepped away from Kelly’s door. We nodded at Officer Schulze for allowing us to speak with Kelly.
I pushed the cart as we made way for the kitchen, but Barlow blocked my path in the hallway.
Her eyes narrowed. “Where were you?”
“Can you move please? I have to push the cart back to the kitchen so they know we passed the trays.”
“What trays?” Barlow asked, stepping toward me.
“If you’re trying to intimidate me, it’s not working.”
“I’m writing you a ticket for that,” Barlow said as she took a pen and pad from her pocket.
“Save it, Barlow,” Schulze said. “They were helping me pass trays in solitary.”
Barlow’s mouth fell open and she then snapped it closed. “I see. Well, you could have told me.”
“I wasn’t aware you were here yet.”
I watched Officer Barlow move through the door that led to the offices. I thought she was headed straight for the warden, but I gave up caring. I was getting sick of her bullying.
“That woman doesn’t have a decent bone in her body,” Eleanor sneered.
“Be careful. You can’t speak about an officer like that. Those tickets can add up, and it won’t look good at your parole hearing,” Schultz said.
I wished I could tell Schulze who we really were. She was the only decent uniformed officer.
Eleanor and I walked to the kitchen and moved the cart against the wall. I noticed Jana leaned against the opposite wall, sweat rolling off
her face, her hair hanging in drenched ringlets.
I rushed over to her and asked, “Are you okay?”
She stared at me. “I’m fine.”
“She’s withdrawing,” Teresa said. For once she looked genuinely concerned.
“Oh, because of Mary’s missing shipment?”
“What do you know about that?”
“I just heard something,” I said.
“Well, un-hear it,” Teresa cautioned me. “It’s better for you health.”
I merely nodded. “What can we do for Jana?”
“She’ll have to tough it out.”
“But she needs medical help. Someone should call the doctor.”
“You just don’t get it. You have no idea how hard it is to even see the doctor. And the warden will have this place turned upside down.”
I sighed. “But she needs to be in her cell, not here.”
“I agree. Why don’t you help her? I can’t leave the kitchen”
I nodded and put an arm around Jana and helped her to her cell. Officer Schulze rushed over. “What happened?”
“Jana’s sick.”
Once we were in Jana’s cell Schulze lifted Jana’s chin slightly. “I thought you knew better than to mess with drugs, Jana,” she said with a shake of her head. “She needs to be seen by the doctor immediately.”
“But I can’t,” Jana said.
“You don’t have a choice, and neither do I. I have to report this, and you know it,” Schulze said as she left.
“Mary is going to kill me,” Jana whispered. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have been taking that oxy, but how was I to know that Mary wouldn’t be able to get her stuff.”
I sat on Jana’s bed. “But don’t you see the dangers of that?”
“I do when I feel like this. I was going through a rough time. My mother had died and I couldn’t go to the funeral.”
“That is tough, but I know you can beat this. When you do, you’ll feel much better about everything.”
The warden and an army of officers hurried into the pod. Barlow glared at me as she took in the scene. “Did you give this inmate the drugs, Barton?” Officer Barlow demanded.
I stood up and faced her. “Me? I haven’t even been here long enough to build up a drug business yet.”
“That’s not funny, Agnes,” Eleanor whispered.
We left the cell and an announcement came over the public address system: “Line up outside your cells for the check.”
Undercover Inmates Page 9
