First Degree Innocence (16 page)

The woman’s touch still lingered on Carrie’s breast. She shuddered.

“Just being friendly.” Jet rose on her elbow and propped her chin in her palm.. The muted light from the hallway highlighted the amused look on her face. She reached out for Carrie.

Flinching, Carrie slapped Jet’s hand away. “Don’t touch me. I thought you said you weren’t gay.”

“I’m not. I’ll always prefer men, but sometimes you have to make do with what you have.” She chuckled. “Once you’ve been here as long as me, you’ll see.”

Carrie shook her head. “Even if I die in here, I’ll never turn to another woman for sex. I’m not like that, so don’t try anything again.”

“My, my, don’t we sound brave.” Jet’s voice held a taunting tone. “When did the little mouse turn into such a lioness?”

Sitting straighter, Carrie stared her in the eyes. “I may be a coward about some things, but it’ll be a cold day in hell when I let you touch me again.”

Jet’s animated slow applause sliced the awkward silence. “Well said.” She nodded. “I’ve never forced myself on anyone, so rest assured your wishes will be honored. Rape just isn’t my thing. Besides, there are plenty of gals here who welcome my attention.” She grinned, got to her hands and knees and inched off the top bunk. The frame swayed when she got back into her own bed.

Carrie released a long, slow breath. She waited several minutes before she dared stretch out again. This time, she faced away from the wall, peering into the dimness, hoping Jet was a person of her word. But, how could you trust someone who had such hatred in her heart?

* * * * *

Carrie’s head throbbed after rec. She was so sick of hearing about the inmate who looked just like her. From the clamor, everyone had seen the woman except Carrie. Curiosity gnawed at her. She had to catch a glimpse for herself.

She climbed up on the top bunk and slung her arm across her eyes. What she needed right now was an aspirin, but she didn’t dare ask Jet for one, let alone beg for her help in finding a way to the laundry. Things between them had been strained since Jet’s sexual advance.

“Aren’t you going to shower?” Jet’s voice echoed in Carrie’s head.

“Not right now, I don’t feel very well. I don’t have migraines, but if I did, I figure this is what one would feel like.”

Sounds of rustling ensued. Carrie didn’t risk jarring her head by removing her shielding arm.

“Here, take these.” Jet’s voice was much lower.

Propping herself on an elbow, Carrie peered through slits in her eyelids. “What is it?”

“Something for your headache. I got it through the commissary. I don’t think you want to wait until the guard comes around to dispense nightly meds, do you?”

Carrie took the two offered pills that looked like Tylenol. “Thanks.”

Before she could get down to fill her glass, Jet handed her water. She watched Carrie swallow then smiled. “The pills might make you a little drowsy. You probably should have taken only one.”

Carrie’s breath halted for a moment. “What did you give me?” She stared at Jet, fearful of the answer.

“Okay, so I didn’t get them from the commissary, but they won’t hurt you.” Jet shrugged.

“What did I just take?” Carrie pressed.

“Oh for Christ’s sake, I gave you Oxycodone. You’d think I was trying to poison you.”

“How did you get prescription drugs? And what if I happen to be allergic to them? Did you even think of that?” Carrie’s headache was forgotten in her anger.

“Why do you have to question everything I do?” Jet stashed the pill bottle back into one of her socks. “I’m sick and tired of your constant inquisitions. I was trying to be helpful. The pills haven’t had time to dissolve yet, so if you don’t want to be pain free, stick your finger down your fucking throat and throw up. I could give a rat’s ass.” She rocked the bunk when she plunged onto her bed.

Carrie took a breath. Maybe Jet had good intentions. “I’m sorry for being so cranky. I’ve just never taken anything stronger than an aspirin unless a doctor prescribed it.”

The silence made the room colder than an iceberg.

Falling back against her pillow, Carrie sighed. So what if she did get drowsy? Sleep was the only place she found peace—and Seth. Thinking of him made her heart ache. Would she ever see him again? Her mind wandered to the look-alike in the laundry. Now that she’d been such an ass to Jet, asking her for help was out of the question. She was probably royally pissed off.

* * * * *

The room spun for a moment when Carrie opened her eyes. The sound of running water in the sink drew attention to the painful fullness of her bladder. She drew up on one arm and saw Jet at the sink. “H-how long have I been asleep?”

“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.”