The Deep End

by Debra Purdy Kong

  CASEY FOLLOWED MIA DOWN THE dim corridor toward the Special Unit, which separated troublesome residents from the others. Being in juvie again made Casey’s stomach clench. The stench of mold oozing through the walls at this end of the corridor didn’t help. After spotting Mia at the casino two nights ago, Casey felt more uneasy than ever around her. Mia’s phone call hadn’t been a surprise, though. In fact, she’d been expecting it after Amy’s news.

  Staff should never have discussed Tanya’s suicide attempt within earshot of Justin. His distraught phone call to Amy had sent her on a tirade. Amy didn’t become enraged easily, but when she did, it was memorable. Casey was delighted to hear that Amy had blasted Mia for Fraserview’s lack of professionalism, and that she’d threatened to go to the media. Amy had been even more outraged when Mia refused to let her see Justin, claiming that Amy’s emotional state wouldn’t be good for him. Amy had insisted that Casey go in her place. Casey wasn’t sure why Mia had agreed to the demand. Maybe she was afraid that Amy would follow through on her media threat. Knowing Amy, she would have, and still might.

  As they walked past the gymnasium, Casey heard another basketball game.

  “I’d like you to keep the visit short,” Mia said. “Fifteen minutes at most.”

  “Why did Justin wind up in the Special Unit?”

  “After he heard about Tanya, he asked staff to put him in touch with her,” Mia answered. “Given their emotional states and that the trial’s coming up, I didn’t think it was a good idea. In fact, Mac shouldn’t have let them communicate in here to begin with.”

  “He said that Justin was a calming influence on Tanya.”

  “Maybe, but things have changed since their escape. When Justin realized we weren’t going to help him, he began pounding his fists into the wall and throwing things. He was going to hurt himself or someone else.”

  “Do you know if Tanya will be okay?”

  “Physically, yes. She was found in time and is now in the hospital.”

  But would she be all right emotionally? “Which hospital is she in?”

  Mia told her while she unclipped the key ring from her belt. She unlocked a heavy, metal door and stepped into a short hallway that was cooler than the rest of the stuffy building. One pathetic forty-watt bulb illuminated the area. Casey counted four cell doors. To her right, she saw a small kitchen.

  “Normally, a youth supervisor would be with you, but she’s needed elsewhere, so I’ll have to lock you in.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Mia stepped across the hall and looked through the small square of wire-meshed glass in one of the cell doors. She then unlocked the door.

  “Casey’s here. Come on out.”

  A pale, exhausted Justin emerged. Glancing at Casey, he shuffled toward the kitchen.

  “If you need anything, use the radio I gave you,” Mia said to Casey, turning on the kitchen light, “or press the button.” She pointed to the button next to the light switch.

  “Okay.”

  Neither of them spoke until Mia was gone. Justin slumped into a plastic orange chair that had been gouged in several places. She noticed he was trying not to look at the still visible wound on her forehead—a reminder of Tanya’s violence. Casey waited until Mia had locked the outer door before she said, “Are you being treated okay?”

  He shrugged. “They leave me alone.”

  Casey listened to the ancient refrigerator’s labored hum. She glanced at the single plastic plate and cup in the dish rack. Leaning forward, she clasped her hands and rested them on the Formica table. Discussing Tanya would probably further upset him, so she decided to postpone it for a bit. Besides, other questions needed answering.

  “Justin, can you tell me what really happened between you and Brady the night he fell down the stairs?”

  He blinked at her, his eyes suspicious. “Why?”

  “It’s the reason you’re here in the first place. Amy’s convinced you’re innocent, so if we can get it resolved, then maybe we can get you out of here.”

  Justin looked down. “Doubt it.”

  “Let’s try, okay?” No response. “Humor me.”

  He rubbed his hands on his wrinkled pants. “Brady and me were fightin’.”

  “About what?”

  “Him bringing drugs home. Could have got us all in deep shit. Me and Tanya and Didi had been trying to get him to stop but he wouldn’t.” Justin shifted in his chair. “But that night, he’d been drinkin’, and he started bragging about his drug money, and it pissed me off.”

  The refrigerator clunked loudly, then resumed humming.

  “I need to ask an important question. Whatever you answer stays between us, if you want it to.” Casey paused. “Did you, or Tanya, push Brady down the stairs?”

  “No!” Justin’s right leg twitched rapidly. “Brady was wasted. He tripped over me, lost his balance, and fell. Hit his head on those stupid marble steps Carl put in.”

  “What did you do after that?”

  “Told Tanya to call 911. Mom and Carl were out.” Justin’s face reddened. “Mom thinks Carl’s so great because he buys her things, but it was Brady’s dope that paid for everything.”

  “You mean Brady gave his dad money?”

  “Hell, yeah. Brady told him some bullshit story about landing a union job at a warehouse. Carl didn’t want to know the truth, and Mom wouldn’t say anything against either of them.” Justin’s leg twitched faster. “I tried to tell her what Brady was doin’, but she told me to shut up.”

  No wonder he hadn’t sought his mother’s help when he escaped. “Has Cristano Cruz tried to contact you?”

  “Not yet. But he will.”

  She was afraid he was right. “I’ve been thinking about our last conversation. Is Cruz recruiting kids from here to sell drugs?”

  Justin rolled his eyes. “What do you think?”

  She didn’t appreciate the sarcasm. “I need verbal confirmation for the police.”

  “They won’t believe me.”

  “They’ll believe me. I have friends on the force. Good friends. People I can trust.”

  Justin blinked at her a couple of times. “Mercedes finds girls to work for him.”

  That explained why she kept coming back to juvie. “Who else in here works for the uncle?”

  He shrugged. “That girl with the dreadlocks, but I think she’s out now.”

  Roxanne? That was interesting, given that she’d identified Mercedes as Mia’s snitch and clearly didn’t like the girl. “I doubt she’s thrilled with the arrangement,” Casey said.

  “She hates Mercedes, Mia, and Cruz.”

  Casey again thought of Mia. “Justin, are any staff part of the drug ring?”

  He glanced down the short, empty hallway. “How do you think Cruz got us out?”

  “I don’t quite understand.”

  He leaned forward and whispered, “Somebody gave him a key to the gate.”

  “So you didn’t use those crates to climb over the fence?”

  “Nah.” He leaned back. “How could we have climbed over barbed wire?”

  “I couldn’t figure that out either. Listen, the last thing Mac said before he died was your and Tanya’s name. But I don’t think he was the one who gave Cruz the key.”

  Justin again looked down the hallway. “Tanya is pretty sure that Mia did it, though she never saw nothin’.”

  It made sense. Mia’s gambling habit required a lot of cash, and who better to provide it than someone like Cristano Cruz? “Did you see Mac before he had his heart attack?”

  Justin stared at the tabletop for a few moments before looking up. “Just before we left, I saw Mac leaning against the wall near his office. He was kind of hunched over.”

  “Was anyone else near him?”

  “No.”

  “Anyone in the corridor?”

  Justin shook his head. “Not that I remember.”

  Mia had relaxed the visiting rules for Cruz, rules that Mac had tightened to keep Cruz
from talking to the kids. Mia had been on duty when both men died. Oh, god, had she killed Mac and Winson to protect her secrets? Or did other staff also hold secrets worth killing for? Was there some sort of conspiracy to hide illegal activity in Fraserview?

  “You heard about Tanya?” Justin’s voice was barely audible.

  “Yes, and she’s going to be fine.”

  “Who said?”

  “Mia.”

  The boy’s eyes blazed. “You can’t trust what she says. You can’t trust any of them!” He smacked the table.

  “I know that.” Casey sat up straighter, alert and wary. “Justin, listen to me. It’s going to be all right.”

  “You don’t get it!”

  “What don’t I get?”

  Anguish twisted his mouth. “It’s my fault she tried to kill herself!” He jumped out of his chair, knocking it to the floor.

  “No, Justin. You can’t control what other people think or do.”

  He swept his hand through his greasy blond hair. “I was glad she wasn’t here, and she knew it.” He paced the room. “Tanya never listens. Always has to have things her way. I wouldn’t have run if she hadn’t made me.”

  “I know.”

  He righted the chair and sat down. “I should have told her I’d stick with her, that I wouldn’t dump her.”

  “You were planning to end the relationship?”

  “Yes—No. I dunno.” Elbows on the table, he clamped his hands on either side of his head. “Tanya’s the only one who gets me. When I was fighting with Mom and Carl, she made things okay. She’s been through family shit.”

  Given Tanya’s assault record, Casey could only imagine how she had helped him deal with family trouble. “She was at the house a lot?”

  “Yeah. She’s good friends with Didi.” He paused. “Could you go see if Tanya’s okay?”

  Oh, lord. “I don’t think she’ll want to see me.”

  “She will if you tell her you have a message from me.” He hesitated. “Tell her I’ve still got her back.”

  Casey thought about this. “Because you think it’s the right thing to do, or because it’s true?”

  He shrugged. “She just needs to hear it.”

  “Okay,” Casey said. “I’ll try to see her.” But she wasn’t looking forward to it.

  A key turned in the lock to the main door. Justin grew rigid, his expression blank. Mia had apparently decided to cut their fifteen minutes short. Was she worried about what Justin would say? She was accompanied by a youth supervisor Casey didn’t recognize.

  “I know you’re only here to visit,” Mia said, “but I was wondering if you could do me a huge favor and help Ruby for a half hour? She’s got her hands full with a new resident.”

  “Sure.”

  Justin’s expression didn’t change as the youth supervisor escorted him back to his cell. Casey and Mia returned to the main corridor.

  “Maybe you could talk to the girl,” Mia began. Then a call came in on her radio and she turned away from Casey.

  Cold air wafted around Casey’s shoulders. She turned to the south exit, but it was closed. She looked up at the flickering fluorescent lights, then at the pool room door. The door wasn’t completely shut, and the air coming from the room increased the damp, moldy smell in the hall. Wasn’t the door supposed to be kept locked? The small window in the door revealed darkness. Casey pulled open the door and was surprised to hear voices. She poked her head inside to find Phyllis murmuring to Oksana.

  “What do you want?” Oksana asked, glaring at Casey.

  “The door wasn’t closed properly.”

  “You can leave now.”

  Why was this woman always so rude? Casey turned to Phyllis, who was wearing her cardigan and hugging herself in this chilly room. “How are things, Phyllis?”

  “Middlin’, dear. Middlin’.”

  Whatever that meant. Casey looked from one to the other. Obviously, they weren’t about to continue their conversation in front of her. What had she interrupted? “Have a nice evening, ladies.”

  She started out of the room, when Mia pushed her way past Casey. “What are you two doing in here? I thought I said no storing supplies in the pool room.”

  “Just checking to make sure I got everything out,” Oksana answered.

  “Uh-huh.” Mia turned to Phyllis. “And you?”

  “Mopping the floor.” She nodded toward the puddle near the deep end of the pool. “The leak’s getting worse.”

  “Then shouldn’t you get on with it?”

  Both women gaped at her.

  “Casey,” Mia said, her tone even frostier than the room. “Will you excuse us?”

  “No problem.”

  She didn’t want to hear Mia lecture employees. Casey stepped outside. She hadn’t gotten far when she spotted the shoplifter, Jamal, leaving the visitors’ room with a taller man. Oh, crap, was that Jamal’s relative? The man was too far away to see clearly, but he could be the guy from the donair shop. Both of them stopped and looked in her direction. Jamal said something to his visitor, who looked at her again. Even from where she stood she could see the scowl on his face. Casey’s ear began to throb, as if she needed reminding not to tangle with them. Maintaining a casual pace, she lengthened her stride. Jamal started down the corridor with his pigeon-toed gait and hostile stare.

  Casey slipped inside the girls’ unit. The door closed. Three seconds later, a loud bang on the door startled her. She kept walking, ignoring the source. Why give the little shit any satisfaction?

  “What was dat?” Ruby said, stepping out of her office.

  “There’s a boy named Jamal wandering down the corridor alone,” Casey replied. “The kid hates me for busting him after he attacked me. He’s the boy who cut my ear, and he just kicked the door, probably to try and intimidate me.”

  “We’ll see about dat.” Ruby charged into the corridor.

  BY THE TIME CASEY LEFT the girls’ unit forty minutes later, she was exhausted from the latest arrival’s rant about how she wouldn’t be here if her boyfriend hadn’t screwed her over. The more she talked, the more riled up and aggressive she became. As a last resort, Ruby took her to the Special Unit, where Jamal was also now spending the night. Apparently, he hadn’t shown Ruby proper respect either.

  Casey hurried down the hot, smelly corridor. At reception, she found Rawan staring sullenly into space.

  “You look a bit down,” Casey said, tossing her visitor’s badge in the basket. “Is everything all right?”

  Rawan stood and adjusted her skirt. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  “Understandable. Two employees have died over a short period of time. Kids are coming and going. I don’t know how you survive the turmoil.”

  “Not sure I have a choice,” Rawan mumbled, handing Casey her coat and purse.

  Should she ask what that meant? Casey was still debating this when Rawan returned to her desk and began reading whatever was on her computer screen. Each time Casey came here, Rawan seemed less happy. Did she know about Cristano Cruz’s drug business? Did she know that staff were involved? Hell, was she part of it? Maybe her background should be checked out.

  Casey stepped out into the freezing night and put on her gloves. Gripping the railing, she descended the icy steps carefully. Her head down, she shuffled across the equally slippery parking lot. Casey almost reached her car when someone grabbed her arm and pulled her backward. She lost her balance, as did the person grabbing her. He fell on his side, letting go of her. Glimpsing the same man who’d been with Jamal, Casey grabbed the car door handle and shoved the key in the lock.

  “Shit!” He struggled to stand.

  Casey started to climb inside, but one leg was still out when he gripped the doorframe and reached for her. Casey screamed and kicked him hard. Down he went again.

  “You stupid bitch!”

  She slammed the door and locked it. “You testify against Jamal and you’re dead!” he yelled.

  It took two attempts befo
re her shaking hand could insert the key in the ignition and start the engine. If that idiot came at her again, she’d honk the horn loud and long enough to raise the dead. Through the frosty passenger-side window she saw him slip-slide toward a vehicle. Without waiting for her windshield to fully defrost, she peeled out of the lot.

  TWENTY-TWO

  AS CASEY LISTENED TO A Michael Bublé CD, Lou placed a linen napkin—used only for special occasions—across her lap. She returned his smile, awestruck and grateful for the candlelit meal he’d prepared. The Cornish game hens looked baked to perfection, and he’d chosen a chardonnay, one of the few wines she liked. She was equally grateful that he hadn’t bought chocolate for this special Valentine’s meal. Lou had learned from harsh experience that chocolate drastically altered her mood, and not in a good way. At this moment, all was right with the world. Summer had been invited to dinner at a girlfriend’s house and would be brought home later by the friend’s parents. Casey could almost feel the tension of the last few days slip from her shoulders.

  “I’m so amazed you did all this,” she said.

  “I should have been more help with the cooking, so I’m changing my ways, beginning with this dinner.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Oh. Forgot the salt and pepper.”

  Casey pushed aside her worries about Justin and the disturbing events at Fraserview. She’d filed a police report about the attempted assault in the parking lot three nights ago, and had also briefed Mia and Kendal. If Mia kept her word, Jamal’s visitor wouldn’t be allowed on the premises, let alone in the building, ever again.

  “I think we’re all set,” Lou said, setting her rarely used crystal salt and pepper shakers on the table.

  Casey admired the colorful assortment of veggies around the hens. “This is fantastic.” He’d even prepared shrimp cocktail. Granted, it wasn’t the most challenging appetizer to make, but for Lou it was a milestone. “I had no idea you could cook a hen.”

  “Maybe you should taste it before you get too excited. Mom gave me the recipe and some tips, but I don’t know if I did it right.” He raised his wine glass. “Happy Valentine’s.”

  “And to you.”