Slammer

by Tabatha Vargo

  “My, how the time flies,” he said sadly. “I’m sorry, darlin’, I know your dad’s a sore subject. I miss him, too. More and more every day. He was a great man and one hell of an officer.”

  I nodded as an image of my dad standing in his police uniform crossed my mind. He’d worked for Charlie for almost thirty years before he was shot three months shy of retiring. After thirty years of being shot at, sleep deprived, and kicked around, he’d died from a fatal shot to the head right before he was finished.

  “He was,” I muttered.

  “So what can I do for you, sweet cheeks?” He leaned back in his chair and placed his clasped hands over his belly.

  I had his full attention and suddenly, my nerves were getting the best of me. “I recently got a nursing job in the infirmary at Fulton Rhodes.”

  His eyes widened. “Lord, your daddy is probably rolling over in his grave, girl.” He sat up, leaning over his desk. “He’d hate you working there. Hell, I’m not sure I like it very much. There are some nasty pieces of work in that place.”

  My mind went over the roster, knowing I could name half of the bad seeds he was talking about. I smiled and agreed. “There’s an inmate there. His name’s Christopher Jacobs. Ever heard of him?”

  He closed his eyes and mumbled Christopher’s name repeatedly, as if he were mulling through his memory bank.

  “Let’s see.” He flipped on his computer and began searching. After a moment, his eyes widened and I could see the moment his memory was jogged.

  “Christopher Jacobs. Oh yeah, I remember that one. He was a sick one. I couldn’t get the images of that crime scene out of my head for weeks. What do you want to know?” His face turned serious.

  “Can this be between you and me for now?” I asked, hoping I could confide in him.

  “Yes, of course.” His curiosity was getting the best of him.

  “I think he’s innocent.” The words leapt from my mouth in a rush.

  Charlie’s face cleared, his eyes raking over my face, before he burst into laughter. “Please tell me you don’t believe this monster when he says he’s innocent. Didn’t you know that every inmate in Fulton is innocent? At least, that’s what they tell everyone.

  I shook my head, cutting him off. “No. He thinks he really did it, but some things aren’t adding up.”

  His laughter stopped, and he swiped at the moisture under his eye. “Things like what?”

  He watched me carefully, reading my every move like a book he’d read too many times. It was his job to interpret body movements, and Mr. Charlie was excellent at his job.

  Filling him in on the details, I told him about Christopher’s amnesia and my own experiences with the human body. I told him about how difficult it would’ve been to cut through muscle and bone, especially with a dull knife. He listened with concern in his eyes. Maybe he thought I was going crazy. Maybe I was, but something in my gut told me I was right, and my daddy always told me to follow my gut.

  When I was done telling him my story, he stood from his desk and went to the door. Shutting us off from the rest of the precinct, he leaned against his desk in front of me instead of going back to his seat.

  “Lyla, I love you like one of my own, and because of that, I’m going to tell you something.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a breath. “Be careful which stones you turn over when it comes to criminals. You never know which one has a snake hiding under it. Jacobs is a snake if I ever saw one, and he’s working you. Stay away from him. He’s dangerous. You’re not a police officer, and you’re no detective. Do your job, and let me do mine.”

  Any hope I had of getting his help fell through the cracks. I didn’t bother responding. Instead, I nodded and stood to leave. “Thanks for your help,” I said as I turned for the door.

  “Lyla, look at me.”

  I did as I was told, even though I wanted to bolt from the building. “Sir?”

  “I’m sorry if I was hard on you, but I hear criminals claim to be innocent every day. I’ll look into the case, because it’s obvious it’s something you’re passionate about, but I can’t make any promises.” He lowered his eyes and sighed. “Come by tomorrow. I’ll see what I can dig up.”

  I left the building unsure if I’d done the right thing. A weight had been lifted off my shoulders, but I wasn’t sure if Charlie believed me or not. I hated to think I was just being tossed around because of who my dad was, but I had to hope that he’d at least take a look at it like he’d promised. As I climbed into my car, I knew it was going to be a restless night. I wasn’t sure if I could wait until the next day to find out anything.

  I SHOWED UP bright and early the next day with two cups of coffee in my hands. When I entered the police station, I was greeted by several familiar faces, and when I got to Charlie’s office, he welcomed me with a wide smile, motioning me to come in.

  “So let’s talk. I spent most of the night digging, and you won’t believe what I found.”

  He stood and motioned for me to follow. I was eagerly hoping he’d found something good. He led me to the records room. The room was large with boxes lining the walls—case numbers and names written on each one. It was an old school way to file, but it worked for them.

  I sat at the table in the center of the room, placing my purse in the chair next to me. He set a box down on the table in front of me, and dust flew all around us. Pulling out a thick folder, he opened it and began laying crime scene pictures onto the table in front of me.

  I’d seen them before, but still my stomach turned at the jagged flesh and blood before me. I schooled my expression, sure that he’d turn the pictures over if he knew how badly they affected me. The familiar mugshot of Christopher when he was just a boy was laid before me, and beside that was his confession.

  “I looked over the pictures and after making some phone calls, I think you might be on to something, kid. His entire body is covered in blood, but his palms are clean. No cuts. No blood. Nothing.” He sat down, his eyes filling with excitement. “At first, I thought maybe he’d just washed his hands, but he was taken straight in and this picture was snapped before he was even fingerprinted in the intake area.”

  Hope moved through my chest. I was right. I’d known it.

  “That’s all well and good, but here’s where it really gets interesting.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “During the investigation, they uncovered DNA under his nails. None of that DNA matched any of the victims.”

  I couldn’t believe it. This was the big break I’d been hoping for. Someone else had been there, and Christopher had taken a piece of them without even realizing it.

  “Tell me about the victims.” I wanted to know everything I could about the case. I wasn’t a police officer, but I’d lived my entire life with one of the best.

  “Sarah Rizzuto was his girlfriend’s name. This is the thing; her father was Anthony Rizzuto, one of the biggest mafia bosses on the East Coast. There are two families—the Lanza family and the Rizzuto family. The Rizzuto’s were being watched by the FBI and had been for the last two years. They were suspected of drug dealing and human trafficking.”

  My stomach turned, and I felt the air around us get thick. This was more serious than I’d originally thought.

  “And the other victim?” I asked.

  “Michael Welch, a high school friend of Sarah’s. About a month before the murders, the FBI noticed a young boy hanging around the Rizzuto’s oldest daughter, Sarah. They suspected he was a recruit and took a bunch of surveillance photos of him.”

  He laid the photos on the table in front of me, and I realized they were pictures of Christopher, young and carefree. One of the pictures was of him with his arm around a pretty blonde. He was smiling in all the pictures. He looked so happy, and my heart ached for him.

  “And then a week before the murders, Michael came into the picture. Again, they assumed he was a new recruit.” He laid more surveillance pictures on the table of another young guy. He was walking along the
sidewalk, looking down at his phone.

  “I put in a call to a buddy of mine over at the FBI and he says when they busted the door in, Jacobs seemed disoriented and confused. He said someone had called in a tip about the murders, but they never figured out who it was. Before they even got the investigation under way, Jacobs had already signed a full confession. Case closed.”

  My heart was slamming against my chest. “He was framed,” I whispered, my eyes scanning over the pictures once more.

  “It looks that way.”

  I stood, ready to run from the room and tell the world, but Charlie reached out and grabbed my arm, stopping me.

  “Lyla, listen to me. This is serious shit. We’re talking drug cartels and human trafficking. If we open this case back up, it’s going to get nasty. Blowing the whistle on this could have repercussions. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

  I didn’t care about the repercussions. X was an innocent man serving a life sentence for crimes he didn’t commit, and I was hell-bent on letting the world know. I wanted him to be freed. He deserved a second chance at life, and if I was being honest with myself, I wanted to be a part of that.

  I FOUND MYSELF outside Fulton on my day off. I probably should’ve waited, but the excitement of the things I’d just learned was too much. Walking into the warden’s office, I smiled at his secretary.

  Curiosity moved across her aging face, streaks of grey working themselves into her loose bun.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I need to speak to the warden.”

  “Can I tell him who’s here to see him?”

  “My name’s Lyla Evans. I’m a nurse in the infirmary for Fulton.”

  Finally, she smiled back at me. “Sure. Have a seat and I’ll let him know you’re here.”

  I sat in an uncomfortable chair and twiddled my thumbs. Finally, his door flew open and he stood there, looking over at me. He was short and stocky, older than I thought he’d be. His brows were bushy, his face stern, but he still managed to smile at me.

  “Ms. Evans, please…” He held a hand out toward his open door. “Come on in.”

  He ushered me inside of his very luxurious office. Compared to the bleak, white-walled halls I walked every day, this was like a five-star resort. His rich leather furnishings shone in the sun that came through his large wall of windows, and his walls were a dark burgundy trimmed in gold.

  A decanter on the far side of the room was filled with an amber liquid that I assumed was an expensive scotch. Pictures of senators and even the president lined his walls.

  “So, Ms. Evans, how are you adapting here at Fulton?”

  I sat in the chair in front of his desk and nodded. “Very well, thank you.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear that. I was sorry to hear about your attack. Mr. Perez was a real piece of work. He’d been a problem here at Fulton since we received him.” He leaned back in his chair, the leather squeaking. “I’m just glad the officers got to you in time.”

  He was obviously misinformed and didn’t seem to have any grief over Carlos’ death.

  “The officers didn’t save me. Mr. Christopher Jacobs did.”

  Surprise flickered in his eyes briefly before he was able to contain it.

  “Is that so? Well, regardless, I’m glad.” He looked away and adjusted a pile of papers on his desk. “So what can I do for you?”

  Touching his forefingers together, he pressed them to his lips as he examined me with a steely look. It unnerved me, and I felt myself growing nervous.

  “I have a friend in the sheriff’s department, and after hearing about Mr. Jacobs and his past, some things didn’t add up.”

  His brows lifted. “Some things?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I went on to explain, filling him in on my knowledge of the human body and the difficulty one would have cutting through muscle and bone with a dull kitchen knife. I went on to mention a few other tidbits of information. His eyes grew darker the more I talked, and a coldness settled over his expression. It was unnerving and the more I talked, the more uncomfortable I became. Something wasn’t settling right with me.

  A momentary look of fear passed over his expression, stopping me and allowing me to catch my breath. As soon as it did, it passed, his features smoothing and all emotion leaving his eyes.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I suddenly realized that maybe coming to the warden wasn’t my brightest idea. I wasn’t a fool to the ways of law enforcement; I knew there were bad guys mingled in with the good, but the warden? Something about him gave me a bad feeling.

  The temperature in the room grew colder, and something told me I needed to keep my mouth shut about everything else I’d found out. Still, I continued, explaining Sarah’s connection to one of the largest mob bosses on the East Coast.

  “Having the last name Rizzuto had put a massive target on Sarah’s back and after looking over the files, the fact that her father was a part of the mob wasn’t even mentioned. Plus, DNA was found under Christopher’s nails that didn’t match the victims.” I swallowed against the knot in my throat.

  “So they are thinking about reopening the case?” he asked, his lips thinning in what looked like anger. “What do they hope to get out of this?” He studied my face too sharply, making me feel as if he could hear my unsure thoughts.

  “I’m not sure. Some of the information regarding the case seemed off. That’s all I know.” I stood, ready to flee his office. He was making me uneasy. Perhaps I was just being paranoid, but he seemed to be pissed off by the information I’d brought him.

  He smiled, but it never reached his eyes. There was no kindness or even a twinkle in them, only ice. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Ms. Evans. I’ll call the sheriff and have him fill me in on the details. I’m sure it will all get resolved soon enough.”

  His eyes shifted toward the phone on his desk before he reached out to shake my hand. It was cold and impersonal, faked. Once he let go of my hand, I turned and went for the door. He sat at his desk, unmoving.

  When I closed the door behind me, I leaned against it to catch the breath I’d been holding. I hadn’t stayed behind to eavesdrop, but suddenly, I could hear him talking on the other side of the door. My blood ran cold when his words reached my ears.

  “Hey, it’s me. We have a problem. Ms. Evans, the new nurse in the infirmary, paid me a little visit.”

  The room went quiet as he listened to the person on the other line speak. And then my worst fears came to light.

  “It doesn’t matter. She knows too much. Take care of it.”

  CHAPTER 15

  x

  MY VACATION FROM Fulton was too short. I was just starting to get comfortable with not having to look over my shoulder. Starting to enjoy the fact that I didn’t have to worry about who was coming through my door and which gang was going to try to take me out.

  As I sat back on my bed, staring at the grimy, white walls around me, I realized just how terrible being in prison was. It was the place where souls went to rot, and the smell, which I’d obvious gotten accustomed to over the years, was a product of those souls rotting… decaying and mixing with the smell of unwashed ass.

  The nice, quiet hospital room was heaven compared to the moans and yelling that now blasted through my head. I closed my eyes tightly as they shut my cell door, wishing I could be back in the hospital again. I prayed that some asshole would jump me and kick my ass so badly I’d have to be returned.

  After a moment of adjustment to the chaos, I realized Scoop had been calling my name from the cell next to mine.

  “X!” he shouted in a whispered rush.

  “I’m here,” I replied, not moving from the bed. My head still hurt slightly, and I really didn’t want to get up.

  “I’ve heard some news. There’s been a breakthrough in your case. Some evidence came out that you might be innocent.”

  “What?” I sat up, ignoring the pain that shot through my hea
d. Walking to the bars, I leaned against the wall as I listened.

  “Apparently, your little girlfriend did some digging and came up with some stuff. Did she come see you in the hospital?”

  “Yeah.” I stopped asking him a long time ago how he knew things. He was a Houdini. He was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

  “And?” He was prying. I knew I could trust Scoop with my feelings for her, but giving him that kind of power over me wasn’t what I wanted.

  “And nothing. She told me I didn’t do it, and you know what?”

  “What?” His voice grew soft and curious.

  “I think I’m beginning to believe her.”

  He grew silent. After a few minutes, I realized he had gone back to his bed. I retreated to mine and sat staring at the wall, the Xs burning into my retinas. The first two ran along the top of the wall and weren’t as deep as the newer, fresher ones, but they hurt the worst. I was just a scrawny, scared kid when I first etched them in, tears streaming down my face. I sat for weeks staring at them, repeating their names over and over again.

  I pictured Moira and Anthony, Mr. and Mrs. Rizzuto, Sarah’s parents, as they shook my hand and welcomed me into their lavish home the first time I’d met them. They were such pleasant people. It was a shame they’d lost their daughter so tragically.

  They loved each other so deeply, and I envied that. I could see it in their eyes every time they looked at each other, and I remember hoping that one day Sarah and I would be the same.

  Soon after, Mr. Rizzuto hired me to be his errand boy and to do some yard work. I was hard up for money. With me trying to help my mom out and maybe save for college, I needed to save every penny I made. He treated me like a son, even though I’d only been dating Sarah for a few months. He even offered to help with my college tuition.

  They were good people. At least, I’d thought they were. It wasn’t until later that I found out what kind of people they really were. The drugs. The lies. They had a rap sheet a mile long, and Sarah had known the entire time. Still, the guilt of taking her away from them was thick and deadly.