by Sean Black
Ty caught on. “No kidding. Lady like that doesn’t stay on the market too long.”
“Tell me about it,” said Lock, watching the two local cops walk up to the counter.
They weren’t looking at he and Ty, which was all good. Lock planned on talking to local law enforcement. Just not yet. He wanted a handle on who was who in the local community first.
Finally, the two cops got their food to go, and headed back to their patrol car. In the meantime, Lock and Ty’s dinner arrived. It sure as hell wasn’t LA or New York food. It looked pretty damn good, and was just as tasty and filling.
Heads down, they resumed their conversation where they had left off.
“If he thinks his daughter’s at risk, he’s going to ask us to get her out of there,” said Lock, before he took another bite of cheeseburger.
“But we’re not gonna?”
“Nope.”
“I thought you were all high on how bad some of these schools are.”
Lock stared at Ty over the top edge of what remained of his burger. “I am. But I’m not about to catch a bunch of prison time over it. If there are problems there, and it looks like his daughter is in danger then he can seek legal remedy. He has the connections and the resources to do that.”
“I hear ya. By the way, we seen any money come in beyond the retainer?”
Lock smiled. Ty had an eye for the bottom line right now that had a lot to do with a lease he’d just taken out on a brand new Mercedes. Lock had done his best to talk him out of it. As with Ty’s choice of female companionship, it had proven to be a losing battle.
“Paid in full. In fact, he’s a little ahead.”
“Now that’s the kind of client I can get behind.” Ty waved a finger, remembering something, the lady from the bus. He’d been so focused on giving Lock his bullet points that he’d forgotten to mention her when he’d gotten back to the motel. “I had an old lady on the bus back ask me if I worked at Broken Ridge.”
“And?”
“And, when I said that I did she said ‘shame on me.’ Kind of came out of left field too. I was helping her with her groceries when she said it so she must have been carrying some strong opinions.”
Lock mulled that one over. Broken Ridge having a bad reputation locally could work to their advantage. “Wonder why she said that?” said Lock, thinking out loud.
“And I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”
“I mean, did she work there one time? Is it local gossip? Did something happen? And if so, when? What’s the angle? If there’s a grievance, it comes from somewhere, smart ass,” said Lock.
The waitress headed over with the coffee pot. “How are you boys doing over here? Enjoying everything?”
They both answered in the affirmative. She gave them a refill and left them to resume their conversation.
“So where d’you say this woman got off the bus?” Lock asked.
Ty described the street where the bus driver had stopped to let the lady off. Lock figured that she should be easy enough to find in a town this small.
“Well, the less popular the place is, the easier that makes my job. But you just be careful out there tomorrow. Remember your cover and stick to it.”
Ty smirked at him across the table. “What they gonna do? Put me in detention?”
“Ty,” said Lock, suddenly serious. “The digging I was doing today. . .People have died at Broken Ridge, two kids and one member of staff since it first opened. All three happened a while back, and the place was pretty much cleared of any wrong doing, but this is not a zero risk environment, so don’t go getting complacent. Okay?”
30
The flames from the fire pits flickered in the darkness. The day’s heat had given way to a chilling desert cold. Ruth sat, knees pulled up, her arms stretched out so that she could warm her hands by the flames.
When they had gathered at the pit, Mary had sat next to her. Ruth had got up and switched places with Abby. Abby seemed to be happy about having a seat closer to where the action was likely to be.
Chris hadn’t begun with what had happened with Mary, and, by extension, with Ruth. He’d held off. Instead, he’d started out by lecturing them about the importance of keeping the dorm, especially their main bathroom, clean. He had even picked out Rachel as someone who wasn’t doing enough cleaning detail.
Ruth had watched Rachel bristle at the comments. Rachel was not used to being criticized at all. Certainly not to her face, and certainly not by Chris.
Ruth wondered if there had been a lover’s tiff, or whether maybe Rachel had just stopped putting out. Rachel and Chris were hardly the most discrete people when it came to their being involved. Rachel pretty much dined out on it, not just with the other girls, but with some of the other staff too. Though she never said it straight out, Rachel made it pretty clear that she expected to be treated differently because Chris was second only to Gretchen in the pecking order.
But Rachel hadn’t climbed the levels as quickly, or become Queen Bee, without knowing how to play the blame game. She listened earnestly to Chris criticism of her as ‘being lazy sometimes.’ She also took a few jabs from some of the others. Abby made sure to get a little payback (‘We all have to contribute, Rachel.’) Mary was silent, even when she was asked to comment.
When it came to Ruth’s turn, she had already decided to take advantage of the opportunity that had presented itself. Her dad, half-joking, had told that the key to success in D.C. was directly related to a person’s ability to kiss ass. That was why he’d been stuck at the same level for so many years.
“Ruth, what do you have to say about keeping the dorm and the bathroom clean?” Chris said.
Ruth looked straight at Rachel. By the way Rachel’s eyes narrowed, Ruth was sure she was anticipating a little more payback, just like she had got from Abby and some of the other girls.
Instead, Ruth said, “I think it’s a little unfair of any of us to criticize Rachel when she already does so much for everyone in our dorm. We all need to take responsibility. But that also means picking up the slack when people are really busy, like Rachel is.”
Rachel smiled and then turned towards Chris with a glare. “Thank you, Ruth. I’m glad someone else understands that I can’t do everything in the dorm.”
Chris, perhaps sensing that if he pushed Rachel much harder, that he’d never get into her pants again, started to back track.
“I think we all appreciate you, Rachel,” said Chris.
That drew a snicker from Abby and a few of the other girls. Now it was Chris’s turn to glare. Ruth was waiting for him to start handing out punishments, but he let it go.
“Now that we have allowed everyone to have their say then I expect cleanliness of the common areas will no longer be an issue,” Chris added. “It’s a matter of everyone taking responsibility and pulling their weight.
Now he was staring straight at Mary who was sitting there, head down, rubbing at her ankle. Even though Chris was staring at her, she kept her head down, her eyes on the ground.
Finally it was Rachel who said, “Mary! Chris would like to address you. Can you at least look at him?”
Slowly, Mary lifted her head. “Yes, Daddy?”
The way she said it totally creeped Ruth out. A couple of the other girls exchanged looks.
“You don’t have to call me that, Mary,” Chris told her.
“It’s a little over-familiar,” said Rachel, chipping in.
“Yeah, only Rachel gets to call him that,” Abby whispered, loud enough for Ruth to hear it.
Chris must have been really regretting his criticism of Rachel, thought Ruth. It had completely changed the dynamic of the group.
“Mary, we need to talk about what happened today on the run. You pretended to be injured to garner sympathy,” said Chris.
“Yeah, Mary,” said one of the other girls. “Why do you always pull stuff like that? Like you think we’re dumb enough to believe you. We all know it’s because you’re a f
at tub who doesn’t want to exercise.”
Now they were back on familiar ground, thought Ruth. Naked, personal attacks designed to humiliate and belittle. Or, as Chris liked to put it, ‘You have to break something down before you can build it back up.”
“I was injured,” said Mary. “I twisted my ankle.”
“You were faking it,” Chris said sternly.
“I wasn’t,” Mary shot back, a steeliness creeping into her voice that Ruth hadn’t heard much of before. It had always been there, a kind of repressed anger, but Mary rarely allowed it to surface. When she did, she didn’t direct it outwards. She got a blade of some kind and directed it at herself.
“If you’re to move forward and progress then you have to confront your behavior. Not deny it.”
“I’m not,” said Mary, not prepared to give up and play the game.
“Okay, I’ll ask the group,” said Chris. “Raise your hand if you believed that Ruth was genuinely injured.”
No one raised their hand. Mary took them in with a sweep. She stopped at Ruth.
Ruth tilted her head back and they locked eyes. She could see the pleading in Mary’s gaze.
Ruth already knew what would happen if she raised her hand. It would make her life even more difficult than it was already about to be for helping Mary earlier. There was no way of winning. Chris had made sure of that.
If Ruth raised her hand, she would be the lone dissenter. Not a good thing to be around the fire pit. The pressure would be off Mary and on Ruth.
If she kept her hand down? She would be safe, but she would have sacrificed not just her friend, but the person in the dorm who was most troubled and least able to defend herself from what would follow. Ruth would still take some lumps, but she wouldn’t be the focus of tonight’s fire pit.
“Price?” said Chris. “Don’t you want to raise your hand? I mean, you helped out Ruth here.”
Ruth looked over at Chris. She could still feel Mary’s heavy stare, and sense her desperation, her need.
Moments like this were what made her dread the fire pit. Ruth already knew that she would never forget what was happening now as long as she lived.
She was torn. The last thing she wanted to do was to abandon Mary to the pack.
Betrayal. That was what it would be if she didn’t raise her hand.
But hadn’t she been betrayed? By her mother, who had sent her here. By her dad, who had ignored her cry for help. And hadn’t Mary thrown her under the bus that first night? Wouldn’t Mary do the same tonight if the tables were turned?
Ruth had to survive. There was only one way to do that.
“No,” said Ruth. “I don’t want to raise my hand.”
Now she’d said that, she may as well be all in. “I think Mary was faking. I’m sorry that I got sucked in.”
She still couldn’t look at Mary. Chris must have sensed as much.
“Okay, Price. Now you know I’ll have to punish you for your part in what happened today.”
Ruth stuck out her chin. “Yes, I accept that.”
“Even though you were trying to do a good thing.”
“Yes.”
“All because Mary lied to us about being hurt,” said Chris.
“Yes,” said Ruth.
Now that she’d kept her hand down she wasn’t sure it would have felt worse to have stood up for Mary. This was awful. She hated herself for what she had just done. But she had done it now. Going back would be worse.
“Okay, Price, I want you to look at Mary and tell her how her deceit has hurt you,” said Chris.
Rachel, who loved nothing more than the smell of blood in the water, jumped in. “Yes, Price. We all know she’s your friend, and then she does that. You need to share your truth with her. Make her realize how lame that whole deal today was.”
“Look at her!” yelled Abby, whose body was almost vibrating with the excitement of this latest twist in the dorm’s drama.
Ruth scooted round so she was staring at Mary’s tear-filled eyes. She couldn’t do it. She knew what she had to say, she could form the words in her mind.
Mary, you need to stop pulling other people into your dramas. You need to take responsibility for yourself. Stop being so weak.
She just couldn’t say them. She had come this far. But she couldn’t do it. It was the eagerness of the others for her to say them. It made her feel sick. Sicker than she already felt having done what she already had.
Slowly, Ruth raised her arm into the air.
“I just lied,” said Ruth. “She did hurt her ankle. Everyone here knows it. This whole thing isn’t about facing who we are, and being honest. It’s bullshit.”
Abby started laughing. A nervous giggle. A couple of the others joined in.
Mary looked confused. Her eyes were still full of tears. Ruth wasn’t even sure that Mary had heard what she’d just said.
“You didn’t lie!” Rachel almost screamed. “Tell her! Tell her she’s a faker! Tell her she’s a liar!”
“Price?” said Chris.
“Yes, Chris,” said Ruth, not even attempting to conceal the sarcasm in her voice. She was already about to face a world of pain. There was nothing they would do her now that wasn’t already going to happen.
Chris tried to play it off. “Okay,” he said. “That’s all fine.”
He began to get to his feet. Now there was silence. This didn’t happen. The fire pit didn’t finish early like this. Not unless something major happened. Ruth guessed that this was major.
“Price, Harper. Follow me.”
A ripple passed through the girls around the fire pit. Groups around other fire pits were looking over at them as Chris stood up and Ruth and Mary followed.
Ruth already knew where they were headed. With every step, she cursed her own stupidity. If she had stood up for Mary from the get go, it would have been bad, but not this bad. If she had kept her hand down, and spoken the words in her head, she would have been home free.
Instead she had managed to capture the worst of both worlds. Now she would pay a very heavy price. So would Mary. Ruth had heard about where she was headed. By first her cowardice, and then her bravery, Ruth had doomed them both.
31
Ruth stood with Mary off to one side. They watched as one by one, pails of water were thrown over the dying embers of the fire pits. Most everyone was already back in their dormitories. They were the only students left outside.
Chris and two other staff members stood guard over them. No one spoke. They were waiting for Gretchen to arrive.
As they stood there, Mary struggling to stay upright on her twisted ankle, Ruth reflected that she had learned some things from her short time at Broken Ridge. The power of making someone wait was one of them.
The staff at Broken Ridge were experts at it. They waited until you confessed your sins. They waited while you almost cooked to death in the baking sun. They made you wait to eat, to drink, to use the bathroom. But perhaps the most effective wait of all was this one: the wait to decide your punishment.
While you stood there, you couldn’t help but wonder, to dread, what you were about to face. Gretchen was the most feared member of staff for a reason. Her punishments were rarely deployed, at least directly, by her. But they were legendary for their cruelty.
Figuring that the damage was already done to her own chances of an early release, or a move up a level, Ruth turned towards to Chris. “Can’t you at least let Mary sit down?”
Chris actually smiled at that. It was more frightening to Ruth than him shouting. “Sure,” he said. “Mary, you can sit down if you really need to.” He placed a sarcastic emphasis on the ‘really need to’ part.
Mary didn’t so much sit as collapse on the ground. Immediately, she began to massage her ankle again, rubbing at it in small circles, kneading it with her fingers. Ruth wasn’t sure why anyone would think she was faking now. You could see the pain etched in her features. Her shoulders were hunched, her elbows tucked in tight, her chin down on
her chest.
No one said anything else. They just stood round, guarding Mary and Ruth. Though where they were going to go was anyone’s guess. Mary couldn’t walk, never mind run.
Ruth had worked out that escape from Broken Ridge was possible. It wasn’t a Supermax prison. But the chances of being caught were high. And what would happen to you when you were brought back didn’t bear thinking about. Although ironically that level of punishment was what she was likely about to face. More stupidity she could curse herself for. If you were going be busted, then trying to get out of here once for all had to be a better crime to be busted for than this.
Ten minutes later, Gretchen arrived. They heard her coming through the darkness before they saw her. Her slippers scraped over the rough ground towards them. She was wearing a dressing gown, and under it some kind of long night dress. To Ruth’s eyes she looked like a crazy homeless lady rather than the person who was in charge of all these people.
Chris walked over to meet her before she got to them. He talked in low whispers to her. She didn’t say much in response, not that Ruth could hear anyway.
The other staff members looked uncomfortable and on edge. It was well known that Gretchen did not like hearing about problems. That was why so much went on behind the scenes. No one wanted to be the one to go tell Gretchen that there was an issue with something. That aversion to telling her the truth extended to the staff.
Staff turnover at Broken Ridge, according to the kids who’d been here awhile, was high. Partly because a lot of new staff didn’t agree with the way the place was run. But also because Gretchen often took an irrational dislike to staff. Chris was one of the longest serving and because he’d always been so loyal, he was allowed to get away with a lot, including his affair with Rachel, who was a barely legal student, and had probably been under-age when he’d first crossed that line.
The discussion between Chris and Gretchen broke up. Gretchen shuffled over to them in her slippers. She was breathing hard through her nose, almost like a toddler at the end of a tantrum who was trying to compose themselves.
