First Degree Innocence (15 page)

Carrie nodded.

“Well, you couldn’t be more wrong. In fact, I hope you learned a lesson, because if you try to go against me again, you’ll be in solitary so long you’ll be an old lady when you get out. Got it!” Her ebony eyes narrowed and her lips disappeared into a thin line.

“B-but …” Confused, even after witnessing Jet’s personality swings on a regular basis, Carrie dipped her chin and shook her head. How could someone be nice one moment and turn into Satan’s sidekick the next?

“Rec time.” The same guard who escorted Carrie to solitary opened the cell door.

Jet slid off her bunk and stood. She waggled a finger in Carrie’s face. “Don’t you dare blow my plan by telling sweet Susanna anything,” she whispered. “I mean it.”

Carrie gulped. “I won’t say a word. I promise.”

Instead of playing cards and passing time with her friends, she’d head outside for fresh air and daylight. And if she was lucky, a glimpse of Seth. Had he missed her? Did he even know what had happened? She wanted so much to tell him how Jet set her up. But why? Did Carrie expect him to ride into the cellblock on his white stallion and slay the nasty dragon who shared her cell? No! She’d given up on fairytales long ago. Maybe she needed a strong shoulder—he had two she’d love to lean on. She grabbed her jacket on the way out.

* * * * *

Carrie walked into the rec room and eyed the door leading outside.

“Woo Hoo,” A cacophony of voices greeted her, and Carrie glanced at the usual space occupied by her friends. Hands waved and gestured her over. She couldn’t be rude.

“Welcome back,” Susanna greeted her. “Was it horrible?”

“I knew you’d miss me, but who told you?” Carrie arched her brow.

“Jet,” Franny answered. “Said you got busted for having some sort of contraband and…” The older woman cocked her head and waited.

Carrie wanted to fill in the blanks, but glanced over her shoulder. Jet’s piercing stare from across the room reminded her of her promise to remain mute. Turning back to her friends, she took a deep breath and dipped her chin. “I’d rather not discuss it right now, if that’s okay. What I’d really like is stepping outside for some fresh air … and sunlight if there is any.”

Susanna patted her hand. “Go ahead. I’d want to do the same thing in your position.”

Carrie headed for the door. The words, “in your position,” niggled at her. Despite her being the one to spend two weeks in the hole, Susanna had no idea how close she’d come to solitary—or that Jet still posed a very dangerous threat to her. Every fiber in Carrie’s body protested against remaining silent. But could she bear another stint in hell? Would Susanna do the same for her? Carrie’s mind whirred as she pushed her way outside and let the door slam behind her. She prayed no one would follow. Time to think was what she needed, not someone to stir another hundred questions in her mind.

She slid one arm down a jacket sleeve, then the other. She pulled the thin material close and folded her arms across her chest. The air was fresh, but colder than she expected. The sun shone, but not in the shadows of the building where she stood. She walked to the fence, luxuriating in the warmth of the rays beaming down. She filled her lungs with deep breaths and eyed the garden with sadness. She longed for the days of freedom she spent tending the plants.

Her life had become something she didn’t recognize. Hell, she didn’t know herself anymore. She’d lost weight, trust, and self-esteem. Her knuckles whitened with her grasp on the fence. She buried her face against the cold steel and tried to stuff down the scream of helplessness rising in her throat. Prison was bad enough, but being caught in a circle of revenge was the worst. Who could she trust? Anyone? Tears welled then spilled down her cheeks. Death seemed a better option than this.

“Hey you.”

She yanked her head around at the familiar voice, and brushed tears from her cheeks. “Seth?”

He stood next to the fence, hidden from sight by the storage shed. “Don’t look at me. We don’t want to draw the turret guard’s attention.”

“I know the drill.” She turned her gaze back to the empty furrows of the garden, darker brown from recent rain, she supposed.

“I’m sorry you got into trouble. I heard through the guards’ grapevine, and you have no idea how much I wanted to help you, but.…”

A smile tugged at her lips. “I understand. Don’t worry. I survived.”

A moment of silence passed between them.

“Would it be forward of me to tell you I really missed you?”

The smile blossomed. She wanted to turn so he could see it, but she lowered her gaze and resisted. “I missed you, too.”

“What happened?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I heard you had a knife.”

“It wasn’t mine.” He had to see the truth in her eyes. She took a chance and looked in his direction. “Honest.”

“I believe you.”

She turned away. “I’m in real trouble, Seth.” Her stomach churned at her admission.

“It’s your cellmate, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Jet’s determined to set me up again.”

How much did he know? She was desperate to trust him. The door behind her opened.

“Aren’t you freezing out here?” Susanna’s voice rang out.

“Uh, no. Solitary was a lot colder. I was just enjoying being outdoors, and trying to forget what I went through.”

Susanna came and stood next to her and put her arm around Carrie’s shoulders. “I’ve been there so I know what you went through, but what I can’t picture is you having a weapon in your laundry bag.”

Fear of Jet appearing choked off the words Carrie wanted to say. She flicked a nonchalant glance to the men’s yard. Seth was gone, and he’d taken her courage with him. She swallowed and faced Susanna. “I really can’t talk about it right now. Why don’t we go back inside? I’m finally starting to feel the chill.”

* * * * *

Jet worked out with free weights, but stopped long enough to deliver a warning glare when Carrie and Susanna walked in together from the yard. Carrie averted her gaze and crossed to the table where the rest of her friends sat.

“Welcome back,” Franny said.

“Yes, we missed you,” Di added.

Ruthie turned her gaping grin up. “Was it horrible?”

“Solitary isn’t for wimps,” Carrie answered. “If the cold doesn’t get you, the name of the place will. I got so lonely I actually made friends with a rodent.”

“Ewwww.” Celia did an exaggerated shiver. “Knowin’ there are critters in the hole will keep me from doing anything wrong.”

“The rat wasn’t very big, and I suspect he was more frightened of me than I was of him…. I suppose it was a him.” Carrie chuckled.

“Bet you’re sorry to be back in orange.” Di pulled her lips into a frown.

“Not really,” Carrie lied. “I’d sport purple polka dots and big floppy red shoes just to be back upstairs.” True, she’d wear them, but her heart ached for losing her only access to Seth.

The girls knew about him, and she dreaded the topic, but luckily, before anyone brought him up, a whistle sounded, signifying the end of recreation time. Like robots, the group fell into line in order of their cell numbers. Passing her, each of her friends patted her shoulder and again expressed delight in having her back in population. She took her spot behind Jet, dreading the inquisition she knew loomed. Her cellmate’s workout had dampened the fringe of hair at her neckline and left a glistening sheen at her nape. The type of sweat reserved for Carrie would come from a much different form of exertion.

The line moved and decreased in number as inmates filed back into their cells. The door had barely closed behind them when Jet’s ebony eyes turned questioning. “You didn’t tell Crane anything, did you?”

“No, I told you I wouldn’t.”

“Good. Because we’re going ahead with my plan. We’ll just wait a few weeks so nothing looks suspicious.”

Carrie sagged against the bars. “What do you hope to accomplish by sending Susanna to solitary? She’s already been there, you know?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about my business. You do your part, and I’ll do mine.”

With a hard swallow, Carrie shook her head. “Why can’t you just forget it? Susanna is serving time just like your brother. Hasn’t she suffered enough?”

“Not nearly.” Jet crawled onto her bunk and turned her back to Carrie. “Not nearly enough.”

“What gives you the right?” Carrie mumbled, climbing onto her bed. She’d never felt such hatred for a person in her life. The emotion was like having her heart in a vice.

“What’d you say?” Jet’s tone indicated she really hadn’t heard.

The coward in Carrie sighed. “Nothing important. Good night.”

Chapter Seventeen

On her bunk, Carrie thumbed through one of Jet’s magazines. Losing the ability to work in the garden made the days seem twice as long, and her thoughts frequently turned to Seth. He seemed so genuinely interested in her and acted as though he believed in her innocence. Did he think about her—miss her as she did him?

Her blank stare at an advertisement filled with his image. His face replaced that of the male model shown in a sexy pose, enticing readers to buy his favorite cologne. A faint aroma wafted from the page. She regained focus and questioned her sanity… until she noticed a used “scratch and sniff” sample.

Still, a pang tugged at her heart. Did she really feel something for Seth, or had she fabricated a relationship where one could never blossom? Would she even recognize love when it came along? So far, her only gauge was the closeness she’d shared with her mother.

“So, did you hear the news?” Jet’s voice from the bottom bunk cut through Carrie’s thoughts.

“What news?” Carrie responded curtly. Jet had become nothing more than a continuing source of irritation.

“Rumor has it that a new inmate arrived on cell block A, and she looks enough like you to be your twin.”

“Really?” Carrie tossed the magazine to the foot of the bunk and rolled to her side, peering over at Jet. “Who told you that?”

“One of the guards who works in the laundry. I guess the newbie was assigned duty there, and they actually called her Lang by mistake.” Jet laughed. “Imagine that.”

“Imagine.” Carrie rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She’d always heard that everyone had a twin somewhere and this news sure gave credence to the saying. She’d suggested the possibility the day the cops had arrested her and insisted she was the getaway driver. Someone who looked just like her… She kept hearing that phrase over and over during her trial. Why was she the only one to see a lack of proof on the prosecution’s part?

Carrie chewed her bottom lip and wondered what landed her look-alike in the joint. Could she possibly have a connection to the bank robbery? That was probably a long shot, but somehow, Carrie had to make contact with her, but how? Jet! Hadn’t she admitted herself that nothing was outside her realm of influence?

“Except freedom,” Carrie murmured.

How could she ask for help from someone she detested?

* * * * *

Carrie joined her friends at their usual table in the rec room. She’d barely sat down when Franny accosted her. “Did you hear?”

“About?”

“The new inmate who’s your double?”

“You’ve seen her?” Carrie asked.

“Yeah, I saw her. Remember I work in the laundry. One of the guards brought her in and I almost fainted.” She turned to Di. “You wouldn’t believe how much she looks like Carrie.”

“Do you know her name?” Carrie pressed.

“Marie, Mary, Margie … something that starts with an M.” Franny rubbed her brow. “I can’t recall. I do good to remember my own.” She flashed a big smile, and patted Carrie’ arm. “But, I’ll ask tomorrow and let you know.”

* * * * *

“Marie Collins.” Carrie shook her head. The name meant nothing. She curled on her side and stared at the lines in the wall next to her bunk. She’d counted them so many times she knew exactly how many blocks made up the cement barrier.

Somehow, someway, she needed to talk to the woman. The old adage, “you scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours,” applied in prison, but asking Jet for a favor brought a bitter taste to Carrie’s mouth. She had a horrible feeling anything connected with the woman would end up badly, and she’d already evidenced the proof. Although the days passed in a haze, by Carrie’s calculations, it had been two weeks since she’d returned from solitary. Thanks to Jet!

And the hell hadn’t ended yet. Every morning, Carrie awoke with the nagging fear that the time had come for her to sell out her friend. But so far, Jet had failed to mention anything in the works. Carrie could only pray her cellmate would forget her nasty vendetta and let go of her need for vengeance against Susanna. If Jet didn’t, Carrie wondered if she’d have the guts to go through with the agreed upon plan. Another stint in solitary was more than she could stand, but how in the world could she get out of this mess? She was too tired to think about it now.

The bunk swayed as it normally did when Jet turned over below. Carrie sighed and started to drift off—her mind and body spent, she closed her eyes. The bunk swayed again, and shortly after, behind her, the mattress sank. A body molded against her, then rocked back and forth in a sensual movement.

Paralyzed and repulsed at the same time, Carrie ceased breathing. A hand reached around and cupped her breast, warm breath caressed her neck.

“I imagine it’s pretty lonely in solitary. How about we make each other feel better?”

Jet’s whisper raised Carrie’s hackles. She jerked away and sat. Pulling up her knees, she pressed her back against the cold wall. “Get away from me. What do you think you’re doing?”