First Degree Innocence

by Ginger Simpson

  “All night and most of the day.” Jet dampened her comb and ran it through an unruly spot at the back of her head. “It’s almost rec time, in case you’re interested.” Her tone was flat and cold.

  Carrie swung her legs over the edge of the bunk and rubbed her hands up and down her face. “Like I tried to tell you last night, I’m sorry. If I came across as rude, it’s only because I’m not used to dealing with that kind of pain. I know you were only trying to help.”

  “How’s your head?”

  “Better, thanks.” She leapt to the floor. “That’s some powerful stuff you gave me.”

  “It wasn’t easy to come by, so you should feel honored I shared it with you.” Jet leaned in closer to the mirror and ran her finger beneath her eye. “What did you think I was going to do, drug you then have your urine tested?”

  Carrie fought the urge to nod, and instead shook her head. She didn’t trust Jet anymore than she would a rattlesnake, and what the woman joked about sounded exactly like something she’d do. Maybe she didn’t have an agenda this time, but Carrie wasn’t letting her guard down. She’d be less accepting in the future—just in case.

  Jet moved from the sink, and Carrie, holding her knees together, waddled to the toilet. The relief was instant, and after she flushed and stood, she hiked up her pants and peered at her wavy image in the mirror. Someone who looked just like her might be the answer she needed to absolve her of the false charges that damned her to this hell.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Seth sat in the warden’s office, meeting with all prison guards—male and female. The whole time Warden Petarski rattled off changes in rules and regulations, his mind strayed to thoughts of Carrie. Was she all right?

  No other inmate unsettled him the way Carrie did. In fact, he’d waited in the shed near the fence many afternoons during her rec time, hoping to see her. But likely, the cold weather kept her from venturing outside. He missed her sweet smile and voice like honey.

  The warden stood and demonstrated her crossover proposal on the blackboard. Seth’s mind jumped back to the session, and his heart leapt at Petarski’s announcement of an experimental procedure to start immediately. Because of increased tension among the women inmates and matrons, male guards were now going to be allowed to oversee female prisoners under certain circumstances. When the warden directed Matron Ogden to design a schedule that allowed for the mingling of genders, Seth smiled. Of course, the finger shaking and chastising reminder that men were never allowed in the women’s shower and dressing area came as no surprise.

  The female guards argued the change was unfair and unprincipled given they were only allowed access to the males during trustee assignments both inside and outside the prison. “Trial run” were the parting words, although the women continued to grumble. As the meeting dismissed, Seth hung back from the departing crowd, intending to speak with Ogden.

  He leaned against the wall, one hand rattling the coins in his pants pocket. The new regime gave him an opportunity to learn more about Carrie without having to hide in the shadows and risk his job. The idea warmed him and he lapsed into visions of stealing a kiss. He bolted upright when Ogden walked out into the hall. His neck heated with a guilty flush. Thank goodness, the old crone couldn’t read his mind.

  “You waiting for a bus or me, Martin?” She cackled like a hen.

  Standing a head taller than her, Seth smiled down at Ogden, finding her as annoying as a boil and just as ugly. “I wondered if you might share with me what assignments will be available for the male guards since I need to plan my schedule in advance.”

  “Oh, you doin’ something important?” She fiddled with the baton hanging from her utility belt while her stale cigarette breath drifted up and sickened him.

  “I’m planning to take a college course in criminal justice. Since the penal system offers grant money for advancement in law enforcement, I thought I’d take advantage of their generosity.” He readied himself to field questions about his information source. It wasn’t exactly a lie. He’d just finished a semester, but she didn’t know that.

  “Well, if I was your age, I’d enroll too.” Clearly she bought his story.

  Releasing a pent up breath, he walked with her down the long hallway leading back to the cells. He tried hard to block out her incessant prattling about her importance to the prison system, instead sensing guilt at being dishonest. He might have fooled Ogden, but he could never trick his mother. He imagined the disappointment in her eyes and cringed.

  “I haven’t developed a schedule yet, but if you give me an idea of what hours work best for you, I’ll try my best to work around your time off.” Ogden’s voice yanked his attention back to her.

  “What did you say?”

  “What time will you be going to school?” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t like repeating myself.”

  “Sorry, guess my mind was somewhere else for a moment. The course is in the morning, so afternoons and evenings are best. I’d like to work swing shift.”

  “Hmmm. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  A shiver ran through him. Was that doubt he saw in her beady eyes? What if she changed him to graveyard? He gave his head a slight shake. She wouldn’t do that. He had to sleep some time. He squared his shoulders and shook off any doubt he’d be able to see Carrie during recreation and speak with her more freely—as long as they were careful. Lying was not his forte, but he’d do just about anything to see her, short of becoming an inmate.

  At the hallway junction dividing the men and women, Ogden paused. “I’ll let you know when I have everything arranged.”

  “Great!” Seth waved and pushed his way through the double doors. Now all he had to do was wait and hope everything worked out. Even if he was assigned the laundry during female working hours, he’d have a chance to find out more about the woman who everyone professed looked enough like Carrie to be her twin. Just maybe she had something to do with Carrie’s imprisonment. He intended to find out. His P.I. friend, Ryan Cullen, was already working on Carrie’s case.

  * * * * *

  Seth tipped back his beer, took a long swig then sighed. “I expected some news by now.” He slung his long leg over the arm of the easy chair and stared across at Ryan who sat on the sofa.

  “If you want to trade places with me, I’ll be happy to let you dig around for information with scant clues to go on, while I sit here and whine.” Ryan took a chug of beer.

  “I know she’s innocent. I just know it.” Seth bit his bottom lip.

  “Let me guess. Your gut tells you she’s being truthful with you.”

  “How did you know?”

  Ryan rolled his eyes. “How many times have you heard an inmate claim their innocence? I can’t count the times you’ve mentioned it. Usually you’re skeptical. What’s different this time? What if your gut is wrong?”

  “There’s something about Carrie that’s different from all the rest. Something in those eyes tells me she wouldn’t be a very good liar.” He laughed. “Tell you what, I’ll bet you dinner at your favorite steak house that I’m right. Besides, I did you a big favor when I covered for you way back when you crashed your father’s car. Taking the blame cost me a month’s restriction, no television, and no phone calls. You owe me!”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll keep digging, but the more info you can find out about her, the better.” He finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the end table. “I’ve gotta run. My wife is going to have my hide if I’m late for dinner again.”

  Seth set his empty down, stood and opened the front door. “If you were single, you wouldn’t have that problem.”

  Ryan paused on the front porch. “One of these days you’ll find the right girl, then—”

  “I think I already have, my friend. I think I already have.”

  “Yeah! Now all we have to do is get her out of the joint.” Ryan slapped him on the shoulder and strolled toward his car.

  “You can do this,” Seth called after him. “I have faith in you
.”

  * * * * *

  His desk littered with papers, and his laptop fan humming, Ryan Cullen perused the Internet for any information on Carrie Lang’s arrest and conviction. Seth had provided him with the case number, her birthdate, her address, driver’s license number, and the sad fact that she had no next of kin. Eyes burning from staring at the screen for hours, Ryan raised his gaze and blinked. He focused on the wall-to-ceiling bookcase crammed with almost everything ever published on crime, clues, and civil processes, but nothing held the key he needed to unlock the mystery surrounding Ms. Lang.

  He splayed his fingers through his hair, lamenting the fact that although not yet forty, his temples were streaked with gray. Cases like this aged a body—and he wasn’t even getting paid for his time and trouble. But, Seth was right, Ryan owed him a favor.

  The tickling sensation of his vibrating cell phone made him straighten his leg. He fished in his pocket for his Blackberry and answered.

  “Hey, Ryan. I’m on a break and I wanted to share some info with you.” Urgency reflected in Seth’s tone.

  “Something helpful, I hope.” Ryan reached for his coffee cup, took a drink, then smacked his lips at the cold, acrid taste. He set the mug down and swiped his mouth with the back of his hand. A loud sigh escaped him. “I’ve reached a dead-end. Your sweet Ms. Lang was squeaky clean before she got busted for being an accessory to robbery. I can’t even find an outstanding parking ticket.”

  “I told you she’s innocent.”

  “So you say. All I need to do is prove it and I don’t know how in the hell I’m gonna do it.”

  “Run a check on a Marie Collins, birthday February 11, 1975, and see what you can dig up.”

  “Who is she?”

  “Another inmate recently checked in. She’s a dead-ringer for Carrie, and I have a gut-feeling she’s connected somehow.”

  “You and your gut! If only those types of instincts were admissible in court, I could have solved this weeks ago.” Ryan laughed.

  “Stop joking and get busy. You’ll see I’m right about this case. But, I gotta go. Break’s over and today’s my first day working with the women. I’ll see what I can learn on this end.”

  Ryan terminated the call and stared at his wife’s smiling face in the photo he used as wallpaper on his cell. God, how he loved Diane. As the screen blackened, he sensed a renewed determination to find a way to free his friend’s newfound love. She had to be something special to attract a confirmed bachelor like Seth.

  He typed in the web address to People Search. Thank God for paid subscriptions or he’d have to mortgage his house for all the times he used the site. He didn’t hold out much hope on finding only one person with such a common name, but only three with the same birthday were listed. Damn, he needed a middle name or initial.

  Further checking showed one deceased and one with no known criminal activity. That narrowed the field to one Marie Collins who’d had a record a mile long and coincidentally, had just been incarcerated for violating her probation by engaging in petty larceny.

  Ryan switched to another screen and cupped his chin. “Hmm, Marie, you’re a naughty little girl, and I intend to dig around in your background to find out your deepest, darkest secrets.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “You’ll be working the laundry, Martin.” Ogden ran a wrinkled finger down a sheet of paper on her clipboard. “Any questions?”

  “No, Ma’am.” Seth tamped down his disappointment. He’d much rather oversee the recreation room, but the call wasn’t his. At least he’d have access to Carrie’s look alike.

  “Meeting adjourned.” The corpulent matron tucked her clipboard beneath her arm and lit a cigarette as if her life depended on it.

  Disgust gripped Seth and he wanted to point out the rules against smoking in a government building, but he bit his tongue. The last thing he needed right now was to piss off Ogden and lose his assignment to work on the women’s side of the prison.

  His shoulders slumping, he walked the long hallway to the laundry facility. He kept glancing back, down the corridor leading to the recreation area—the one that passed in front of Carrie’s cell. So close, yet so far from seeing her. To his surprise, a lump formed in his throat. He hadn’t sensed such emotions since he stepped on his childhood turtle and killed his favorite pet. He gave half-hearted chuckle, now finding it funny how memories from so long ago drifted back and connected with his adult life. Carrie and a turtle? Strange, to say the least.

  Seth squared himself outside the laundry room door. The smell of bleach and detergent drifted out to meet him. Such a pleasant combination beat the smell of sweat and dirty asses that he suffered in the men’s lockup.

  Clearing his throat, he narrowed his lips and eyes. The need to present an emotionless presence among the inmates had been drummed into him since basic training. Working among the men, he’d learned why. Any hint of friendship or compassion led to an inmate trying to take advantage and gain privileges. Disliking male inmates came naturally. Somewhere, they’d let their families down.

  He snickered at breaking the house rule with Carrie. What about her thawed the icy wall he hid behind? Sucking in a breath, he sobered again, tucked aside thoughts of her for the moment, and pushed through the swinging door.

  The room hummed with activity. Female inmates hovered over huge washing machines, filling some with orange uniforms and others with white garments. An occasional new item of underwear stood out like a snowflake in a pile of coal—the older items dimmed gray with use and washing.

  Along the far wall, more inmates worked on a sorting line, accepting clean laundry from those on drying detail. Some women paired socks for distribution back to the inmates, while others folded uniforms and undergarments, placing them in stacks according to size. The operation duplicated the men’s facility, although, if the absence of bickering provided any indication, the women formed a much more productive team. The need for his presence surprised him.

  Three female guards huddled in a corner and kept glimpsing in his direction. If they intended to keep their topic of conversation hidden, they failed. Feeling like an intruder in a foreign camp, a sense of vulnerability seized him and he felt naked before their secretive stares. The idea tugged his mouth into a smile. He stood with determined straightness. Let them look and enjoy the rare scenery.

  High humidity created an airless vacuum, and Seth swiped his arm across his damp forehead. He scanned the room for Marie Collins. Finding her was easy. She stood among the dryers. His breath hitched at the startling resemblance between her and Carrie.

  He strode in her direction, but stopped short when she ceased working and engaged in conversation with a dark-haired inmate. She hadn’t noticed him.

  Seth sidled closer and leaned against an adjacent wall, out of sight. Near enough to hear what was said, he planted one boot sole against the wall in a casual stance and crossed his arms. He fixed his gaze on the room ahead, but tilted an ear toward Marie and her pal.

  “Collins,” a hushed voice barely audible over the noise spoke. “Jet asked me to remind you of your debt. She’s moving forward with her plan, and once her cellmate has done her duty, she wants you to take her out.”

  Seth peeked around the corner in time to see Marie nod then dip down and grab an armful from a dryer.

  He shuddered. The person he cared for had a big X on her back. If he stepped in now and accosted both inmates, it would be their word against his. He had no proof of the plot they brewed against Carrie. “Shit!” he muttered and lowered his boot to the floor in thudding anger. He knew absolutely nothing about this Jet person aside from what he’d heard from Carrie.

  Fighting the desire to confront the women and shake more information from them, Seth took a breath and decided to bide his time. How would they “take her out”? She and Collins didn’t share a common area, but that could change. Who knew about the plan besides these two? Stumbling upon this much information on the first day was more than he anticipated. H
e’d just be patient, watch and listen.

  Something grabbed his attention. Two women across the room stood toe-to-toe, their voices elevated above the din of the machines. Seth strode over and pulled them apart. After his admonishment, they returned to their duties. He shook his head as he returned to his self-appointed post. Working with females was a piece of cake compared to what he’d been through on the other side. Still, the female guards avoided him like he had the plague. No wonder they needed help; they were too wrapped up in their own conversations to be bothered with watching their charges.

  The dark-haired inmate and Marie Collins didn’t share another word during his entire shift. Time dragged by, and he grimaced as the two joined in the line of inmates being led from the room by the matrons. The lack of friendliness from his co-workers hadn’t changed one iota.

  With the room empty, he meandered over to the sorting table and perused the unfinished stacks. He’d forgotten to write down Carrie’s inmate number so he had no way from looking at the laundry bags which clothing belonged to her. His jaw tensed at the mess the women left behind, but he made one final check of the premises before leaving the room. The cell roster in the dayroom contained the number he needed.

  * * * * *

  “Thank you.” Carrie accepted her clean clothing from an inmate assigned to the laundry detail.

  Dark circles ringed the woman’s eyes and her hair hung in limp ringlets alongside her oval face. She flashed a weak smile as she handed Jet her uniforms then pushed her cart on to the next cell. If the worker noticed a resemblance between Carrie and anyone else in the joint, she didn’t react.