The Starks Trilogy (Book 1 & 2)

by Nesly Clerge

  “Fucking Spencer.”

  “Any word on the Crazy D situation?”

  Jackson’s plastic chair creaked when he leaned back. “It’s pretty quiet, for now, at least. He’s still in isolation, of course. I don’t know if anything’s planned to go down before he gets out, but you can bet your ass that something will happen when he does.”

  “We need to watch our backs. And we need to recruit more guys.”

  Jackson’s mouth stretched into a broad grin. “I’m ahead of you there. I didn’t sit around with my thumb up my ass while you were in SHUville. We have four new guys with us. I’ll set up a meeting so you can check them out.”

  “Don’t bother.” Starks lay back on his bed, with his fingers linked behind his head. “You know what kind of people we need and how to motivate them. I trust you to handle it.”

  Jackson was silent for a moment then said, “A part of me likes that you’re delegating. Another part is trying not to freak out that you’re letting go of some control rather than hogging it. What’s up with you, man?

  Starks shrugged. He punched his pillow and shifted position several times.

  “Can’t get comfy?” Jackson asked.

  “There’s a hard bump that wasn’t here before.”

  Jackson’s grin widened. “Thought you’d seek and find by now. It’s a cell phone. Get up.”

  Jackson lifted the mattress and pulled the slender device from a slit in the cover and foam. He pressed the power button. The phone came to life.

  Starks held his hand out. Jackson gave him the phone, which Starks shut off.

  “There are rules to follow,” Jackson said. “Always keep it on silent mode. Always dial out using sixty-seven. Always have a lookout so you don’t get caught. There’s a big fucking penalty if you’re caught.”

  “Where’d you get it?”

  “One of Sanchez’s guys works in the kitchen. He cut me in on their racket. Inmates pay by the minute to use the few phones available.”

  Starks’s business radar pinged. In an over-populated place like this… “Who controls this cell phone business?”

  “Sanchez, Crazy D, and Seth.”

  “I don’t know Seth, but the Crazy D part is problematic. How much is their cut?”

  “No idea.”

  “Where do they get the phones?”

  “Couple guards bring prepaid phones in. They get their cut of what inmates pay.”

  “I want in.”

  Jackson slapped Starks on the back. “Now you’re talking.” He grew somber. “It’s all or nothing, you know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s like a cartel they have going—phones, booze, drugs.”

  “I won’t handle drugs. As a father, I can’t do that. And I don’t want to deal with alcohol, but I’ll handle phones.” Starks turned the phone over in his hand. “How many inmates know about this set-up?”

  “Not as many as you’d think. They only got it started latter part of last year. Had to find the right guards.”

  “Tell Sanchez I want to meet with him about this.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “Who are the guards involved?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Find out. And, so you know, I’m hanging onto this one.”

  Jackson grinned. “That one’s yours. I asked for an extra. Figured it’d be an incentive for you.”

  “This is one time I don’t object to you playing mentalist in my regard.” Starks locked his gaze with Jackson’s. “Let’s see how well you can use your talent on Sanchez.”

  “What are you up to?”

  “Profit and gain.”

  CHAPTER 26

  STARKS’S SHIFT IN the library on Mondays usually started at eight thirty, but his time in the SHU had altered his schedule for the current week. He wasn’t due to start his shift until noon, which he found out when he showed up after the eight o’clock count. Sam Carson looked relieved when he saw him and asked if it was at all possible, could he keep his ass out of the SHU, because the library wasn’t the same without him. Starks laughed. Then an idea came to him. He knew the library stock better than anyone. He made sure no one was looking, especially Carson, and removed a large, ratty book from a shelf, one no one ever read.

  Jackson had taken off to start his shift in the kitchen. Alone in the cell, Starks opened the 600-page book, wet some of the pages at the sink then returned to his desk. He used the knitting needle to remove paper segments he flushed down the toilet. The phone fit perfectly into the inch-deep hole. He chose to disregard one of the rules and turned the phone on. The solution to at least a few of his problems was a phone call away.

  He grabbed the book and sat on his bed, with his back to the wall and the blanket pulled over his crossed legs. The open book was placed on his lap at a sharp angle. Sixty-seven was dialed then Michael Parker’s cell phone number. When Parker uttered a tentative hello, he said, “It’s Starks.”

  “I almost didn’t answer. Curiosity won, since I’m very particular about who has this number. Where are you calling from? Usually the operator—”

  “I don’t have a lot of time, Parker.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “What’s going on with the prison doctor matter and my CT appointment?”

  “First, I’m coming to see you later today. We have a lot to discuss about the divorce, and it’s better if we do that in person.”

  “That was my second question.”

  “Regarding the doctor, I’ve filed a complaint. Dr. Troy may find himself leaving his position there quite soon. I made it plain that if prison officials don’t meet my demands, I’ll take it further. I’m certain Sands doesn’t want the negative publicity I promised. Your CT scan is scheduled for Friday. I was able to pull some strings.”

  “You’re definitely effective. Even if we hadn’t been friends more than a decade, you’d be the guy.”

  “Happy to help. You’re in an untenable situation. When I imagine myself in your shoes, it makes me shudder.”

  “I appreciate your understanding. One more thing. You know my private investigator?”

  “Jim Rogers.”

  “I need his number.”

  “Hold on while I get it.” Parker repeated the number twice. “You have it?”

  “Got it. Thanks. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  “Starks… take care of yourself.”

  “I’ll do my best. By the way, I may be on my shift in the library when you arrive. Tell that to whomever so they know where to find me. See you then.”

  Starks ended the call and dialed the number he’d memorized. The call went to voicemail. He immediately re-dialed. This time, the person answered but stayed silent.

  “Jim, it’s Starks.”

  “Starks, man, how the hell are you?”

  “If I said I can’t complain, you’d know I was lying.”

  “You calling from a burner?”

  “You got it. Jim, the matter Jeffrey set up with you—”

  “Yeah. That’s some shit, huh?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean, but I’ve heard some payments have been missed. That’s put me in a dangerous position.”

  “Jeffrey was supposed to go there and explain.”

  Shit. “I haven’t spoken with him. What’s up?”

  “The designated person got murdered. Had a hard time finding someone I could trust to take his place, but everything’s back on schedule starting this Friday, including back pay.”

  Starks’s sigh was audible. “Thank God.”

  “Sorry about any problems that caused. I’m surprised at Jeffrey. He knew it was important to get word to you so you could cover your ass.”

  “Shit happens, and messages don’t get delivered.”

  “Hope it’s going to be okay. I hate to think I had a part in anything happening to you because of this.”

  “It’ll be okay now. Appreciate all you’re doing, buddy.”

  “You need anything
at all that I can take care of, you let me know.”

  “Again, thanks.”

  Starks hid the phone in the book and put the book at the bottom of the stack. At least now he knew what was going on, and that it had been resolved. He’d get word out as soon as he could.

  He was tempted to chide himself for not seeing Jeffrey when he’d come. At least part of his life would have been less stressful had he known what was going on. Hindsight was a waste of energy.

  And certain people were a waste of space.

  CHAPTER 27

  APPREHENSION FLUTTERED IN Starks’s stomach. Parker would arrive in a matter of hours to discuss the divorce. There was no going back. Ever. He’d always care about Kayla, as she was the mother of his children, but any love he’d felt for her had been destroyed. Even the rage he’d felt had diminished to occasional bouts of anger. There were more pressing matters that required his focus and energy.

  Another realization came to him: He hadn’t thought about Emma in weeks. The time they’d had together before prison had been almost magical. She was the opposite of Kayla and the other women he’d been with, and she didn’t deserve to be put through this turbulence.

  Emma had supported him in such a loving way when his grandfather had died. They’d stood together on the steps of the church, her hand in his, as they’d waited for the funeral service to begin.

  “He was the only real father I ever had,” he’d said.

  Emma placed her arm around his waist. “I know. And he was so proud of you. His eyes always brightened whenever he saw you.”

  “I wish life had worked out differently. That I’d met and married you instead of Kayla.”

  She placed her head against his shoulder. “Everything happens for a reason, baby. You appreciate me more because of her. And, you wouldn’t have your children, had it gone any other way.”

  “You’re right. You know, she didn’t even bother to call my mother to offer condolences. Didn’t send flowers, either. After everything my mother and grandfather did for us while we were in college, including the funds they provided every month to help us pay bills. And they paid every penny of the expensive wedding Kayla and her mother insisted they had to have. All that, and Kayla shows my family no respect at this time.”

  “I know, baby, but how she is shouldn’t surprise you. You said it: She’s a viper. If it’s not about or for her, she’s not interested. Her type conveniently forgets where they came from and who helped them along the way. Don’t let her steal your attention. Your family needs you now. Focus on them. Your grandfather would want that.”

  Emma had been right, of course. Kayla had been under his skin since the first time he’d seen her in high school. Her ability to take up that space was finally starting to fade.

  He’d fooled himself into believing what his grandfather and uncles told him when he turned fourteen. It was their version of the birds-and-bees conversation. They emphasized the importance of a wife being a virgin. They discussed the difference between a wife and a side-woman. His grandfather had several women on the side his entire life. The men of his family told him a wife had to be a proper woman, reserved to some degree, but side-women needed to do everything the wife wouldn’t or shouldn’t. “Treat the other women as though you respect them, even though you don’t.” His uncles had laughed at his grandfather’s statement and nodded in agreement.

  He’d followed their advice. He claimed Kayla’s virginity when they were teenagers, and had been good to all the women he slept with while he and Kayla were married. The difference was generational. Women in his family of his grandfather’s generation put up with extramarital affairs and kept silent. Most women his age were more independent. Some might put up with affairs, if a man paid their way. Some wouldn’t.

  Emma was divorced, a single mother, and had dated on occasion after she had a legal right to do so. Nothing promiscuous, unlike Kayla. No sexual encounters in odd places, and not with married men. And certainly not with more than one man at a time, as Kayla had done. With Emma, what you saw was what was there. Kayla had deceived him with more skill than he’d ever imagined she possessed.

  He’d told Emma when she’d surprised him with a visit at Sands, to stay away, at least for a while. Now he was sorry he’d done that. Or maybe he wasn’t. How would a woman as good and kind as Emma react when she saw how he looked now, with no hair to run her fingers through, like when they made love? His groin ached in response to the memory.

  Starks closed his mind to thoughts that taunted him. He closed his eyes and didn’t open them again until the announcement for the eleven o’clock count blared over the speakers. He chided himself for being stupid. It was dangerous to fall asleep in his cell during the day, where anyone could get to him.

  After the count, he ate from his food supply, shaved his head, and washed up. He prepped the small knitting needle with fresh toxic paste, hid it in the hem of the clean shirt he put on, and tucked the fake thumbs into his pants pockets.

  At eleven forty, Starks decided to go to the library early. He wanted to give Sam a heads-up about Parker so the library manager could arrange to have someone fill in for him, in case it was needed. Unless Sam decided to fill that role.

  He was almost to his destination when he met up with CO Roberts, who was on corridor patrol. “I’ve got news you and the others want to hear,” Starks said. “The problem was with the payments conveyor, but that’s been resolved. Starting this Friday everything’s back on schedule with a new guy. Back payments will be caught up, along with the current payment.”

  Roberts smiled. “You’re right. That’s good news.”

  Starks made sure they couldn’t be overheard. “You know about a cell phone operation in here?”

  Roberts hesitated then said, “Maybe.”

  “I expect a direct response when I ask a question. Let me put it another way. Would you like to make extra money?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Keep this between us. Let whoever supplies the phones know I’ll pay them twenty percent more than they’re getting now. And, I’ll increase your pay by ten percent if you handle this the way I want you to.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “You’re the best of the bunch, Roberts. Not a word to the others about this, unless I say otherwise.”

  Starks left Roberts and made his way to the library. He needed this scheme to work, for a number of reasons. And he needed the guards’ confidence in him back where it had been at the start.

  Now all he had to do was get to the library, meet with Parker, and do whatever it took to divorce Kayla and keep her from taking everything, including his balls.

  And stay alive another day.

  CHAPTER 28

  CO SIMMONS CALLED out from the library entrance, “Starks, your attorney’s here. Let’s go.”

  Starks went to the back office where Sam Carson worked at the desk. “My attorney’s here.”

  “I heard. Everyone heard. Tell that CO this is a fucking library, so keep his volume down.”

  “Like I can tell any CO what to do.”

  Carson arched his eyebrows. “If I placed a bet about that, would I win?” He chuckled and said, “Be on time tomorrow.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  “Boss, my ass.”

  Starks and Simmons started toward the conference room. The first few minutes of their trek were silent. Then Simmons said, “Roberts told me the good news. I was kinda worried for a while.”

  “We certainly don’t want that. What we do want from now on is mutual trust, and for good reason. Right?”

  “Right.” Simmons halted. “This is it.”

  Starks entered the conference room and closed the door behind him. So focused on how the meeting might go, he was momentarily puzzled about Parker’s shocked expression. He rubbed his shaved head with his right hand, making it look as though the dragon was attacking him.

  “Sorry, Parker. Unless I see myself in a mirror, or someone comments, I forget about
my appearance.” He crossed the small space and shook hands with his attorney. “How are things at Parker, Birnhaum, Bailey, and Todd?”

  “Everyone’s fine.” Parker gestured in a halfhearted manner at Starks’s arm and head. “Why?”

  “Jeffrey and Kayla’s betrayal pushed me to an edge. I went over.” Starks dropped into the chair across from Parker.

  “This ‘new you’ is so vastly different from the professional man I’ve known for years.”

  “I’m still the man you know.”

  Parker drew his glasses from his shirt pocket and perched them on his nose. He looked over them at Starks and said, “I hope to God that’s true. Understandably, being here will change some aspects of who you are. That can’t be helped. But, Starks, please make every effort to not lose yourself. It’s a somewhat lengthy, but temporary situation. You’ll get out of here one day and will want and need to return to society.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir. But this is one of those ‘walk in my shoes’ matters.”

  Parker pushed his glasses firmly in place and leaned forward, forearms on the table. “I can give you some good news. We’re getting Dr. Troy removed.”

  “That’s a fact?”

  “It is. I verified that the proper agencies read my complaints, and I spoke with the warden. Fortunately, my name and reputation carry clout, even with those people. In fact, the warden called me on my way here, to make us an offer. He’s willing to make the changes he can and push for appropriate changes he can’t make without approval, as long as we sign an agreement to keep everything related to this matter out of public awareness.”

  Starks nodded. “Whatever it takes, but there are a few things I want to make sure happen. Dr. Troy is out of here, ASAP. I want better medical staff, upgraded equipment, and guaranteed quality care for every inmate.”

  “All reasonable requests and doable up to a point. However, Troy will likely be here until they hire a replacement. If he bails, they’ll have to hire a rent-a-doctor, which could be just as bad. He may be a recalcitrant physician, but for the time being, he’s the only one they have. Plus, he needs to sign off on the referral for your CT scan before Friday. Not to worry, though; he’ll cooperate. I’ll make sure of it. As to your other requests, the warden knows it’s in his best interest to do what he can to fulfill them, but he isn’t the sole decision-maker. However, he knows I’m not going to let this go until substantial improvements take place.”