I considered sitting for a while, “staking the place out” in old P.I. parlance, but it wasn’t worth it. Instead I called Mike and Richard, advising them that I was on my way back to the P.D.’s office and asking that they let Charley know I’d struck out. Charley was the only person who’d been pleased to see me at WFC. I was afraid if I called and left a message for him there, he’d rocket up to the number two spot on the office shit list, right behind me.
As I passed the Handi-Way, I decided at the last minute to pull in, jolting over a curb to make the turn. Well, I rationalized, that’s what Jeeps are made for. I hadn’t spoken to Annie since I’d been attacked. I’d meant to, but I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Now that I’d caused all hell to break loose at the prison, I wished I’d done so earlier. Most of the town, thus most of Annie’s customers, worked at WFC. I might not be one of her favorite people right now either.
She glanced up when the bell announced my arrival, then looked down quickly at her book, as if she hadn’t seen me or didn’t recognize me. I took my time getting a sports drink and a candy bar and headed to the counter. She rang me up without speaking.
“Hi Annie.” No response as I counted out the cash.
“How’s tricks?” Still no response.
“So I take it I’m on your shit list too?” That got her.
“Well, let’s see. A bunch of guys were arrested at work this morning, and you got half the town wondering if they’re next. Yeah, I guess you could say a lot of people aren’t real happy with you right now.”
Charley hadn’t mentioned the arrests. Maybe they’d happened after I left. I should have felt relieved, but I didn’t. Not yet. “Annie, do you know why they were arrested?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care. If you got what you came for, I’d like you to leave.”
“Deacon and his buddies kidnapped me a couple of weeks ago. You probably heard about that. You might not have heard that they beat the crap out of me, and if I hadn’t gotten away Deacon would have raped me, possibly even killed me.”
Annie’s eyes locked on her counter, her lips wrinkling as she squeezed them tightly together. “Those boys never would have allowed that.”
“Maybe. I’d like to believe that. It’d help me sleep better at night. Of course, it was Charley who saved my life yesterday. No one else lifted a finger.”
It was then that I remembered Annie’s nephew. “Annie, ‘those boys’ weren’t arrested for attacking me. I can’t even identify them. You want to know what they were capable of, what they actually did do? They were shaking down prisoners’ families for visitation. And I’m not talking about bribes for illegal perks—$100 gets you a conjugal visit with your girlfriend. I’m talking about extortion—$100 or we lose your paperwork and you don’t get to see your son. How would you feel if someone made you pay to visit your nephew?”
Annie still wouldn’t look at me and still didn’t speak, but her mouth had relaxed. She rocked a bit on her feet, back and forth, while she looked up at the ceiling tiles. “Look, Annie, I’m sorry. I know you have to live here, and I’m not trying to get you in trouble. I just dropped by because I’m trying to find Sue Ellen.”
That finally got through to her. She narrowed her eyes at me and asked, “Why do you want to talk to her?”
“I’m worried about her. Those other guys might be relatively harmless, but Deacon’s still on the loose, and he could be after her.”
“Why? Why would he go after Sue Ellen? She’s just a child.”
Sue Ellen was in her mid 20s and was qualified to carry a handgun, but I didn’t want to argue the point. “I think Deacon is in deeper than the rest of the guys, probably did some dirtier stuff, and I think Sue Ellen knew about it. She was scared to death of him, and now she’s disappeared.”
“If you see her, please tell her to call me.” I pulled out a card and wrote every phone number I could think of on it, then held it out to Annie. She hesitated.
“Annie, please. If Deacon was mean before, he’s psycho now, and he’s got nothing to lose.”
“Okay,” she said, taking the card. “I’ll tell her.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Even with the extra stop and chat with Annie, it couldn’t have taken more than 20 minutes total to get to the PD’s office, but Mike was waiting in the parking lot when I got there.
“What took you so long?” he asked. He took my bag from me and practically dragged me into the building. There was an armed guard at the entrance I didn’t recall being there on my last visit.
Even Melinda’s composure seemed ruffled, or perhaps I should say her hair was ruffled and her clothes were slightly rumpled. Dr. Seuss rhymes danced through my head—a late-blooming symptom from the head trauma? More likely my usual batty self. Maybe she was ruffled rumpled stumpled because she was working on Saturday. No, wait, today was still Friday. The real reason for Melinda’s dishevelment and Mike’s impatience became evident when we entered Richard’s office. He had a full house.
Richard, Jim Gilbert, and Rudy Nagroski rose when I entered the room, and I began to feel claustrophobic. They all made the proper greeting noises and Rudy tried to negotiate the bodies to get out the door, explaining that he was just leaving.
“Wait,” Richard said. “Tell Sydney.”
Rudy blinked as though the thought had never occurred to him. “Oh. Oh yeah, sure.” He seemed unsure where to begin.
Mike spoke softly. “Rudy, tell her who it was.”
Rudy’s eyes focused, and he nodded. “Well, you were asking about the Thomas investigation, about who Chet Hawkins used for his legwork. I could see the guy clear as day, but I couldn’t remember his name. That is, until I heard the news this morning. It was that guy on the news, the prison guard that went crazy. Deacon James was his name. He was Chet Hawkins’ investigator.”
While Richard thanked Rudy for coming by and walked him to Melinda’s door, Mike led me to a chair and made sure I landed in it rather than on the floor. I should have seen it coming. I took a deep breath, trying to let the self-recriminations go and clear my mind for useful cogitation. It worked.
“Are you all right?” Mike asked.
I tried to smile. “Yes, thank you. Would you hand me my binder, the one with the police reports?”
He did, and I’d found what I was looking for by the time Richard returned to the room.
“No luck with Sue Ellen?” he asked. I shook my head.
“Rudy showed up about half an hour ago. He’s been looking through his notes, trying to figure out what went wrong. What he did wrong.”
Richard shook his head, likely clearing his own self-recriminations. “Then Jim got here a few minutes ago. All things considered, I thought he’d want to know as well.”
Jim smiled. “Yes. Rudy was able to find out what I couldn’t. Deacon James’ personnel file is a valuable commodity, and I’m afraid I didn’t have enough pull to even set eyes on it, much less get a copy. We now know Deacon worked at the police department, however briefly, before he went to work as a prison guard at WCF. Rudy made some calls, but no one seems to know the circumstances of Deacon’s departure from the force. For what it’s worth, the consensus is it was something shady.”
I spread the binder on Richard’s desk, opened to the report. “Remember when I said I assumed Deacon was his last name?” I pointed at the name at the bottom of the report. “Officer D. James was one of the officers at the fire at Jimmy’s.”
“Pretty common name, James,” Jim said, but he sounded as if he didn’t believe in coincidence any more than I did.
“It’s him.”
We were interrupted by Melinda’s knock at the door. “Richard, I know you said you didn’t want to be disturbed, but there’s a woman on the line asking for Sydney. She won’t give her name.”
They all looked at me. “It has to be Sue Ellen,” I said. I moved to Richard’s desk and picked up the line.
“Is this Sydney Brennan?” a breathless woman’s voice a
sked.
“Yes. Sue Ellen?”
“Yeah. I got this number from Annie when I stopped to get gas. I tried all the other numbers first, but nobody answered.” Her voice got higher as she trailed off at the end.
“Sue Ellen, do you know what happened at the prison? Yesterday and today?”
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “I’m scared.” Little “eeee” noises like baby sobs came from her end.
“Sue Ellen, listen to me. Do you know where the Public Defender’s Office is? It’s in the same building as the State Attorney. Sue Ellen?”
“Yes.”
“That’s where I am right now. Meet me here, and we’ll keep you safe. I promise. I’ll wait for you in the parking lot. Okay? Can you do that?”
“Okay.”
The men (my little posse of over-protective chauvinists was growing) vetoed me standing in the open parking lot. Instead I waited just inside the door with the armed guard. Richard had warned him to be particularly vigilant.
“If trouble starts, it’s usually because she brought it with her,” he said, pointing at me. “Little Miss Tempest in a Teapot.”
I didn’t argue.
Fifteen minutes later, a car arrived in the lot. I knew it was Sue Ellen and hurried out the door before someone could try to stop me, reaching her as she was locking her car door. She recognized me and tried to smile. When I put my hand on her elbow she didn’t flinch or pull away, so I wrapped my splinted arm awkwardly around her shoulder and drew her inside. The guard came out as we approached and backed in after us. I thought he’d seen too many military movies.
I led Sue Ellen to Richard’s office. We had agreed that I would speak to her alone first, not inviting the men in until I’d had a chance to explain their presence. On the way through I asked Melinda if she could find us some hot tea. Like most government buildings, the PD’s office kept the air conditioning at least 10 degrees cooler than I would have preferred, and I hoped the hot beverage would soothe Sue Ellen’s nerves.
For a few minutes, we said nothing of substance. I kept repeating the same reassuring phrases, waiting for her to get comfortable in her surroundings. She was wearing a pink T-shirt and jeans, her bony little elbows held close to her ribs, as if she were afraid to touch the chair. Her breathing had begun to even out, and her eyes weren’t as wide, when we heard a knock at the door. She still jerked at the sound. It was Mike, carrying a tray with cast-off mugs of steaming liquid, the yellow Lipton tags still hanging over the side. He’d added sweetener packets of various colors and toxicities as well.
“Thanks, Mike,” I said, waving him in. I motioned for him to stay.
“Mike is an investigator here at the PD’s office. You know I’ve been looking into Isaac Thomas’s case. A couple of weeks ago, I decided I was in over my head and asked some people to help me out. Mike is one of those people, and two more of them are waiting outside. Would you mind if they came in while we talk?”
Some of the color had returned to Sue Ellen’s face. Maybe it was the three sugars she had dumped in her tea. “No, I don’t mind. I know it sounds silly, but I think I might feel safer with them here.”
Mike went to the door and let Richard and Jim in. I introduced each of them to her by name and position. Once again the space was tight, and there were only two chairs in addition to Richard’s. Sue Ellen and I sat opposite Richard in the two guest chairs, and Jim perched on the windowsill behind Richard. Mike sat on the floor on our side of the desk, his back against a bookshelf.
I’d been afraid Sue Ellen would have difficulty, that we would have to coax her story out of her, but she’d only needed a safe place to tell it. She began with no prompting.
“Isaac was a very kind man. Sometimes it’s hard being a female guard, but he didn’t, well, you know, say things like a lot of the guys. He wasn’t like that.” She looked down at her hands.
“I think he just liked having a woman to talk to.”
“Is that how you knew about Noel?” I asked.
“Well, yes. But not at first. I mean, he didn’t tell me right away. He didn’t talk much about his life on the outside or anything like that. I didn’t even know what his crime was until Deacon told me.”
“What did Deacon tell you?”
“He said—I feel awful, but it’s what he said—that Isaac killed his wife because she was a whore. He said she got what was coming to her.”
“Did you ever hear that from anyone else?”
“No. I don’t remember talking much at all about Isaac to anyone, except maybe Charley. Definitely not about Isaac’s case.”
“Did it seem like Deacon had something against Isaac, or there was something between them?”
“Not at first. Not until Isaac started asking about visitation.”
“What did he want to know?”
“Well, different days he’d ask who was on duty, who’d be handling the visitation and how it worked. Isaac was smart. He knew all the operating procedures and everything, but I don’t remember him ever having a visitor while I was there. He knew what happened on paper, but he’d never had the experience, if you see what I mean. What’s on paper and what goes on day-to-day can be two very different things at the prison.”
“Did he tell you why he was asking?”
“No, but as time went by, he started asking more specific questions. Then one day, it must have been a Friday, he asked if I’d be helping with the visitation next day. I told him I was, and he asked me if I’d do him a favor. One of the guys on his wing had a little sister coming to visit, and Isaac wanted me to stick close to her. He wouldn’t say why, but he said to be careful, not to be too obvious about it. He didn’t want to get me in trouble.”
“And you did it?”
“I couldn’t see in any harm in it, and Isaac was real good to me, so I kept an eye on her. She was a young girl, maybe about sixteen. It seems to me like she had to bring a parental waiver. At some point, I don’t remember if it was before or after the visit, I looked around the visitation area and I didn’t see her. There was a place where you were out of sight if you went around the side of the building, so we always had someone posted right there, but I didn’t see anybody. I thought that was kinda strange so I walked around the corner and there she was.”
Sue Ellen’s voice started to crack, so I moved her tea cup within easy reach. She took a tiny sip before going on. “The girl was up against the wall. She was wearing a skirt, a long one that came below her knees but he’d hiked it up, so he could get to her. She was crying, real soft, and I—I didn’t even think. I just couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I walked over and I said, Deacon, what the hell are you doing? He just stared at me, still leaning against the wall, belt hanging down. He hadn’t, you know, really got to her yet, and while he was looking at me the girl took off.”
Sue Ellen’s head dropped. I reached over impulsively and grabbed her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She still didn’t look up, but she squeezed back and continued.
“He asked if I was volunteering instead. I didn’t know what to say, and before I knew it he was standing right next to me. He grabbed me real hard, between my legs, and he shoved me up against the wall. Then he just walked away. I thought was it, that he’d scared me bad enough, but that evening he was waiting for me. I got in my car, and he knocked on my window for me to roll it down. He looked around, and I guess there wasn’t anyone close enough to see, because he pulled out a gun.”
Sue Ellen’s voice didn’t change, but tears began trickling down her cheeks. “I closed my eyes, but I could still feel his gun, like a cold smooth rock against my head. He said if I ever told anyone, he’d kill me, but before he did he’d…”
She took a deep breath and looked up at me.
“He’d do things to me someone like Charlie could never imagine.”
“Did you tell Isaac?”
“No! No, I didn’t tell anyone. I avoided Isaac for a while. I was afraid he’d be
able to see it, just by looking at me. I thought everyone would, especially the way Deacon kept looking at me, saying little things here and there, so I wouldn’t forget. Charlie suspected something, but then he got transferred. Nobody else saw it.”
When she spoke again, her voice held an angry edge, the edge that I hoped would help her through the next few months. “That’s what I thought anyway, that nobody else saw it, but Annie told me this morning what they were up to. They just didn’t want to see it. Oh sure, there were little things that I ignored too. Like some of the guards would make the inmates give them honey buns they’d bought from the canteen, just to take a shower. Or when one of the inmates comes up positive on a drug test. I knew they had to get the drugs from somewhere. But making people pay to get visits, making girls have sex to see their brothers?”
She shook her head in disgust.
“Did Isaac ever figure it out?”
“He never said it in so many words, but he did. Not long before he died, maybe a couple of weeks, they were shuffling the wings and the shifts around and I got transferred too. A few days before my transfer, I went to talk to Isaac, I guess to say goodbye. Usually we wouldn’t get to talk that much, but I think Deacon was out and the other guys were cutting me some slack, so we got to talk a lot the last couple of days. That’s when he told me about his sister. He said she was having a rough time now, but he was hoping to get a visit from her soon. And he told me about Noel too, how he wanted to see her, but he didn’t want to see her here, in prison. He wanted to wait until he got out.”
“When I dropped by for the last time, my last shift on his cell block, that’s when I knew for sure Isaac had figured it out. He apologized to me. He said he was sorry for getting me in the middle of the things that were going on, but he said not to worry, that he’d taken care of it. He said Deacon would never hurt anyone again.”
Back to Lazarus (Sydney Brennan) Page 27
