by TL Alexander
She looks more than slightly put out. Change in schedules in any capacity aren’t welcomed or tolerated easily. It seems odd that everything is so regimented. It’s not as if we, the inmates, are going anywhere and don’t have the time to spare.
“You’re late and now you want to keep her longer?”
“I’m evaluating her for new medication. I need the extra time.”
New medication?
“All right,” she says. “I’ll return at six. But if you’re even one minute late, I’m writing it up.”
“We’ll be sure to be done, then. Won’t we?”
She scowls and utters curses under her breath as she exits.
“I don’t know how you put up with that crap.”
“I have no choice,” I tell him.
Dr. Harrison walks to the door and looks out the small window.
“What’s going on?”
“I need to make sure she’s not lingering.”
“She’s not. She goes to lunch at 4:15.”
“And by the size of that ass, she never misses.”
I chuckle and walk toward his office.
“Morgan? Before you go in…”
I stop. “What?”
“There’s someone in there who wants to speak with you.”
“Who?”
“I need you to keep an open mind.”
“And open mind?”
He takes my elbow.
I dig my heels in. “I’m not going in there until you tell me what the hell is going on. And what was that about a new medication? We’ve never talked about that.”
“Morgan, I’m on your side. I know you’ve been having doubts about me. There’s no need to fear me in anyway. I volunteered here because of you.”
“What?”
“All will be explained.”
He opens his office door, and I enter. “What the hell is this?”
“Morgan, we mean you no harm,” he says.
“Oh my God! What happened?” she asks.
“No harm! Are you kidding me?”
“Mary is on your side.”
“My side? Are you out of your friggin’ mind?” I look at Mary and then back at Dr. Harrison. “Oh my God. You’ve been feeding them information.”
“Of course not. I would never betray you. What we talk about never leaves this office.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He runs a hand through his thinning, gray hair. “Morgan, we don’t have a lot of time. I’m begging you to calm down and hear her out. I’ve known Mary since—”
“Grade school,” she says. “Joe sat behind me and pulled on my pigtails.”
I look at Dr. Harrison.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here,” he points to a chair in the outer office.
I look at Mary.
“Please, Morgan. I mean you no harm.”
I nod and sit in my usual folding chair.
Mary nods toward Dr. Harrison, and he quietly shuts the door as he exits.
She rolls Dr. Harrison’s office chair around the desk and sits across from me. “Please tell me what happened to your face.”
“Nothing. Just another day at the office.”
She frowns.
“Why are you here?”
“I want to talk.”
“If you’re here for a confession or an apology, you’re wasting your time.”
“I’m not here for that.”
“I see.”
“You see what?”
“You want a thank you for pleading for my life? I never asked you to do that. I would have been better off if you hadn’t. Maybe that was the plan.”
“I’m not following.”
“I wouldn’t be at this privately run hell if I’d gotten the death penalty. I’d be in a state-run penitentiary, and I would have better access to my attorney and others. But you already know that.”
“You’re wrong. I didn’t know that.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I wish you did.”
“You can wish all you want. It will never make it so.”
“Has Joe, Dr. Harrison, been able to help you?”
“Help me?”
“I sent him, Morgan. I was told you…”
“Went cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.”
She smiles. “No. I wasn’t told that. But I must say that’s quite cheeky. I’ll have to remember that one. James will love it.”
“Who’s James?”
“My driver.”
“Of course he is.”
“I sent Dr. Harrison because I care about you, Morgan.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I do.”
“What do you want?”
“To talk.”
“I know that. What do you want to talk about?”
“I need your help.”
I laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
She frowns. “Why would I kid you?”
“I have no idea. Why in the hell would I help you?”
“Because we want the same thing.”
“And that is?”
“Justice for Tara.”
“Tara? Why would you care about her?”
“She came to see me.”
I sit up in my chair. “What? Why would she do that?”
“Frank Green.”
“Tara’s dad. I don’t’ understand.”
“He came to see me.”
“Why?”
“He wanted to talk to me.”
“Why?”
“He wanted to talk to me about Ann.”
“My mom. Why? Did you know her?”
“Not really.”
“Then why would he come to see you?”
“He wanted to talk about Aden Ferro.”
“Aden Ferro? Did you know him?”
“He was a very dear friend of mine.”
“I’m so confused.”
“If I had a dime,” she says and chuckles.
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re not alone.”
I don’t know what to say to her. She’s talking in circles and it’s driving me crazy. “Okay, so, Tara came to see you because Frank did?”
“Yes. Frank got my name off the flight manifest.”
“My mom’s last flight?”
“Yes. I was visiting Aden in France. I had planned to fly back to the States with him and his son.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I had to come back earlier, to end something.”
“What else did you talk about?”
“Nothing. I had no other information. I told Frank and Tara it was a tragic accident, and I was sorry that I couldn’t help them further.”
We sat in silence for several beats.
I break the silence. “Did you know who Tara was?”
“Aden told me that Ann had two daughters. But when Frank came to see me, he never mentioned having a daughter or his connection to Ann. He told me he was a reporter looking into corporate plane accidents.”
“Why?”
“I haven’t a clue.”
“Did Tara say who she was? Did she tell you Frank was her dad?”
“She said he was her father and that they worked together, and she was following up for him.”
“She didn’t tell you Ann was her mother?”
“No.”
“This is—nothing adds up.”
“Can I ask you what you remember about the accident?”
“Not much. I was only three when it happened. I only know what my dad and Tara told me.”
“Go on.”
“I knew Mom piloted for Mr. Ferro and his family for about six years. Dad told me she liked working for them.”
“What else?”
“Dad said Mom called him the day before that flight. He didn’t pick it up; it went to his voice mail. She said she was flying to the States the next day. They had been….”
“What?”
“Separated.”
“Not that I know of. Dad didn’t know the flight information until after the crash. He was told they’d flown from France to New York, where they refueled, and from there to Atlanta. But as you know, they didn’t make it.”
“Go on.”
“Tara told me that Frank believed the plane had been sabotaged somehow. But my dad dismissed it.”
“Anything else?
“No, not really. Dad and I didn’t talk about it.”
“Why?”
“He had his reasons and I had mine. I didn’t even know about a trust fund the Ferro Foundation had set up for me until my first year at Stanford. I’ve never touched it.”
“Why not?”
“I just couldn’t. Tara told me that Mr. Ferro’s son had been on that flight. He was the same age as me, three. I know it’s silly, at least Tara always told me it was, but I couldn’t separate myself from him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve thought about him over the years, in a ‘if he were alive’ kind of way.”
“Sorry, I’m not following.”
“I used to ask myself if he were alive, what would he look like? What would he be doing? Would he be happy? Survivor’s guilt, I guess.”
“You thought it should have been you?”
“I thought it wasn’t fair.”
“Fair?”
“I know this will sound terrible, but not only have I thought about him in a ‘what if’ way, I’ve been envious and angry with him for most of my life.”
“Why?”
“Because he was with my mom when she died. He had her last.”
“I see. Anything else?”
“No. Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask, but I won’t guarantee an answer.”
“Fair enough. Do you know why Tara was in Miami? Do you know how or why Terrance Thomas and Tara hooked up?”
“That’s two questions,” she says and smiles.
“Do you?”
“No.”
I don’t believe her. Mary is odd, to say the least, but there is something about her. “Your eyes.”
“My eyes?” she asks.
“What?”
“You said, ‘your eyes.’”
“I did?”
She nods.
“Sorry, just thinking out loud.”
We say nothing for several long beats.
She breaks the silence. “I’m not an innocent, Morgan. But I wasn’t a player in the game that put you in here. The first I heard about you was the day you were arrested. I didn’t find out about Drake’s involvement until after your trial. I didn’t even know the truth about Thomas until after the trail.”
“How could that be? Terrance is your husband. Thomas was your son. Drake is your stepson.”
“I found out the same way you did. I received a large envelope in the mail, from my ‘biggest fan.’”
“What?”
“But unlike you, they didn’t stop. I received one a week. With each one, a new piece of the puzzle was put into place.”
“What puzzle?”
“The puzzle of my life. I’ve learned the truth about Terrance and Thomas. Years of lies, deceit, blackmail, and murder.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t, my dear.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“You too?”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“This is all linked, isn’t it? My mother, the accident, you, me, and Tara?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Soon you will know the full truth.”
There’s a knock on the door. Dr. Harrison pokes his head in. “Sorry to interrupt, but we need to wrap things up soon.”
She nods. “A few more minutes.”
He nods and shuts the door.
“Your husband doesn’t know you’re here?”
“Of course not. Terrance is…”
“What?”
“Let’s just say he’s busy right now.”
“I’m so confused.”
“I know you are, my—Morgan. I need something from you. A piece for my puzzle.”
“You know more than I do.”
“I don’t know this.”
“What?”
“I need to know about the wedding.”
“Why?”
“Because Drake refuses to tell me. I know it wasn’t part of Terrance’s plan.”
“How do you know that?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“I disagree.”
“Did you love him? Was it real?”
“That’s none of your business.”
She smiles. “That’s all I need to know.”
“What?”
“You’re just like Drake. You say more when you don’t say anything at all.”
“What?”
A QUEEN CAN MOVE IN ANY DIRECTION
After Mary’s visit, I was perplexed in general, but even more so with Mary herself.
I hear the outer door open. I kiss the photo I’ve been using as a bookmarker, place it over my last read page, and close it.
“So… what’s the verdict?” Officer Willis asks.
I stand. “It’s okay, I guess. Two and a half stars.”
“I disagree. I think that’s one of Jack’s best.”
“You’re in lust with him. I don’t think he could write anything you didn’t think wasn’t a Pulitzer Prize winner.”
She grins. “You’re probably right.”
I wave the book. “Do you think I could take this? Three more chapters and I’ll have read all the Jack Steel books in the library.” I’m not ready to say goodbye to the sharp young ADA who’d gotten herself caught in yet another tangled web of murder and scandal.
I knew that Jack’s latest book was inspired by my life, but I had no idea that one of his main characters, Casey Laurence, who’s been in six of his books, is also based on my career. The next time we see each other, we’re going to have a long chat about Casey Laurence.
“I think by last count, you were over your allowed amount, but I won’t tell.”
I’m the only inmate who is allowed only a dozen books in my cell at a time. It’s the senator’s rule, no doubt. Just one of many he put in place to make sure I know he’s the one in charge.
“Thanks, Willis,” I say and put it in the front pocket of my uniform.
I hold out my wrists. “Why have you been working all week?”
She cuffs me. “Rimes was fired.”
“You’re kidding me?”
“I kid you not.”
I somehow refrain from further comment as she walks behind me. When we reach Dr. Harrison’s outer office door, I step aside so she can open it.
Unlike our last visit, he’s standing just inside, ready to greet me. “Morgan.”
I nod. “Doctor.”
Willis removes my cuffs. “I’ve been told I need to take my lunch at this hour, so I’ll be back in two hours.”
“Perfect,” Dr. Harrison tells her.
She nods to me before she exits, shutting the door behind her.
“I have so many questions for you. I—”
He holds up his hand. “Hold on. I believe most of your questions will be answered today.”
“Is she here?” I ask and walk into his office.
A man standing in the corner turns around.
“What the hell is this?”
He holds up his hands. “I mean you no harm.”
“Like hell you don’t.”
I make a run for the door.
Dr. Harrison blocks my way. “Morgan, he means you no harm.”
“No harm? Do you know who he is?”
“Of course I know who he is.”
“Please, Morgan.”
I turn and look at the weasel.
“You’re in no danger from me. I would never hurt you.” He looks down at his feet. “A
t least not any more than I already have.”
“I’ll be right outside the door,” Dr. Harrison tells me.
The weasel attempts a smile. It looks foreign and forced but nonthreatening.
“Okay.”
Dr. Harrison nods toward Hodges before shutting the door.
I sit in my usual chair.
He sits in the roller behind the doctor’s desk. I consider it a wise move on his part.
We say nothing for several long beats.
Hodges’s hands are visibly shaking as he holds them in front of him. I don’t know if he’s afraid of me, or if he has a medical condition.
He breaks the silence. “This must be a surprise.”
“To say the least.”
He attempts another smile. It’s obviously as uncomfortable to perform as it is to see. “This is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”
“Coming here? Or looking at me?”
“Both I guess.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I feel the same way about looking at you.”
He chuckles. It genuinely surprises me. “Have they been treating you well?”
“Are you serious?”
“Not in the entirety of your incarceration, but this last week?”
“Nobody has beaten the shit out of me. So I’d say it’s been a pretty good week.”
“That’s good to know.”
“But we both know it won’t last. The senator’s minions seem to be on some kind of schedule. I’m thinking their abuse is coordinated with when they receive their payments.”
His lips thin.
“He really is a disturbed man. Has he always been like that? I’m asking because I know you’re related to him.”
“Terrance is my cousin.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He doesn’t reply.
“So, what’s the deal? Why are you here? I’m sure your cousin didn’t send you here to call off his game or set up a truce.”
“He doesn’t know I’m here. To be honest, Morgan, I didn’t want to face you, tell you what I had done. Mary made me come.”
“Mary?”
“Mary and I have become… allies.”
“Allies?”
“She’s been helping me make things right.”
“What have you done? Why did she make you come?”
“She made me come because it’s my fault you’re here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m your ‘biggest fan.’”
I sit up straight. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
“You? Why?”
He looks down at his hands.
I hit the desk. “Tell me!”
He looks up. “I’m so sorry, Morgan. It didn’t go as I had planned.”
