Inevitable Sentences (13 page)

Read Inevitable Sentences Online

Authors: Tekla Dennison Miller

BOOK: Inevitable Sentences
5.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Thanks. See ya on the way out, Clancy.” Lizzie waved. She shifted the truck into first, and waited for the gate to slide open, which always seemed to take an eternity. It would seem even longer on Sunday night.

Officer Clancy was more thorough than most. The good news was that he’d be off tomorrow. That was why she’d chosen Sunday as the day for the break. The other gate officer was usually more lax. There would be less traffic through the salleyport—usually only the food service personnel in the truck. Also, everyone knew most prisoners were in the visiting room and not on grounds. The administrative offices were closed. Nothing would be happening from that end. Even though Eagle, the duty deputy, would be here, he’d be more interested in visits. No one would suspect problems on grounds, especially in the kitchen. The deputy warden and officers were more concerned about the possibility of a fight in the visiting room or drugs being transported by someone’s girlfriend. What’s more, everyone except the truly hearty stayed inside unless it was absolutely necessary to venture onto grounds because it was nearly dark and freezing-ass cold by 4:30. Ah. Lizzie preened. She and Chad had been smart enough to use all that to their advantage.

On Sunday Lizzie usually did double-duty. She would make two runs inside rather than her regular one. The first run would be with the nonperishable items and the second with the refrigerator truck, the one in which Chad would escape.

Lizzie maneuvered the truck through the gate and drove toward the kitchen as she had every workday for the past six months. The few prisoners who dared to face the cold and go to the yard caught Lizzie’s attention. Their uniforms created a wall of navy blue as they huddled near the fence in small groups. Their jacket collars were pulled to their ears where blue knit caps were snug against their heads to protect them from the wind, which was approaching gale force. From where Lizzie drove, she could never tell one man from another. Even Chad would be lost in that blue maze.

While the inmates talked and smoked, two officers circulated among them. The officers also hunkered into their black winter jackets and hats to stay warm. Their eyes were barely visible above their collars, and their breath curled from their mouths like steam. The officers stamped their feet and rubbed their gloved hands together as they meandered among the inmates, seeming more intent on staying warm than watching for unusual activity. The storm predicted for tomorrow would give the officers, including those at the salleyport, even more reason to be intent on staying warm, rather than being curious about the food service truck.

Other inmates jogged or walked in twos along the fence. Their breath spiraled into the air like smoke. Lizzie could almost hear their heavy exhalations. Each inmate made sure he didn’t get close enough to the fence to set off the alarm or attract the gun tower officers who were armed with automatic rifles. She glanced at the nearby tower sentry. He was peering through highpowered binoculars at the yard below. Lizzie knew that each tower officer kept an M16 automatic rifle within easy reach, in case he had to break up a brawl or stop a prisoner from scaling the fence. She worried most about the officer in the salleyport gun tower. He had a clear shot at whoever came and went through that portal. She’d have to be absolutely sure not to attract any unwanted attention from him tomorrow.

On the horizon the heavy metal sky seemed to press down on the yard and its occupants. The dark clouds building over the lake held the promised storm and forecasted the ominous day ahead. It was a scene that would play out many times until the first tulip bloomed in spring, and one she was happy not to have to face. “It’s too depressing,” she said aloud to herself. She gunned the truck and headed for the kitchen. Her mood brightened when she thought about Chad. She could hardly wait to see him. Every minute they were apart felt like a year. Her heart already pounded at the thought of a stolen touch as they worked side by side.

C
HAD
, C
HARLIE, AND
Lou, wearing clean, bright white kitchen uniforms, a stark contrast to the dreary day, were waiting for her on the loading dock at the rear of the kitchen. As soon as she backed the truck up to them, Charlie opened the doors. All three prisoners hopped inside and started removing the contents. They’d performed the task so many times no direction was needed. None of them spoke except to say “hello” to Lizzie.

Lizzie thought Chad seemed on edge. When they were alone in the cargo area of the truck, she placed a hand on his arm to stop him. “You’re ignoring me.”

He shrugged.

“If we act any differently from normal, they”—she thumbed toward the kitchen—“will think something’s up. We can’t afford that, and you know it.”

Chad turned to her, clearly exasperated. “I know, I know. I want this whole thing over so my mind can rest and—”

Charlie jumped into the truck. “You got anythin’ else to cart in, Ms. Chatfield?”

“Yeah.” She pointed to a stack of boxes. “Once those are unloaded, you’re finished out here. Then the fun begins.” She winked at Chad. “I could use a cigarette,” Lizzie said.

“Who couldn’t?” Chad scowled. “You know the rules, though—Hawk Haven is smoke-free. You should have had one before you got here.”

He reminded Lizzie of her father, always reprimanding her for not having gone to the bathroom before the family set out on a road trip. She knew Chad never smoked. His glaringly white teeth were evidence. She also knew he disliked her smoking. Oh, well. She’d quit when this was over. She wouldn’t need the crutch any longer. She’d have Chad, sunshine and endless beaches. She frowned. “I did have a couple. As our time gets closer, I’m so nervous I could—”

Charlie came back. Chad hurriedly picked up a carton, and he and Charlie carried the last boxes inside, Lizzie following them to the kitchen. She sniffed the air, crinkling her nose awkwardly—her entire face joined in. She was overwhelmed by the smell of disinfectant, detergent, and cakes baking. “What’s with the cleaning?” she asked.

Jones poked his head out from the storage area. “The warden’s stopping by to make sure we’re ready for our public health inspection on Monday.”

“Now?” Lizzie shrieked. “It’s nearly three. He never works this late on a Saturday. Beside, he’s not even on duty this weekend. The deputy is.” The news of Stump’s unscheduled appearance unnerved Lizzie.
Relax.
She couldn’t let anyone see how upset she was. If they did notice, though, they’d probably relate it to inspection nerves. She started to breathe more easily.

“He’s the Ghost, remember?” Chad dared to respond. His face creased into concerned lines.

No playing touchy-feely with Chad today,
Lizzie mourned. Too many eyes watched her every move. It didn’t matter. She was more alarmed by the unexpected visit. What about tomorrow? Would Stump make another surprise appearance? She and Chad hadn’t counted on this bump down the Yellow Brick Road to freedom.

When Jones checked on Charlie and Lou, Lizzie followed Chad into the storage area. Chad suddenly turned to face her. “Stump better not screw up our plans for tomorrow. What if he wants to do extra cleaning or something?” His eyes were narrow and accusing.

“You act like this is my fault,” Lizzie seethed. “I don’t like it any better than you. We need all the help we can get to pull this off. You needn’t worry about Stump, though. I doubt he’ll give up his Sunday. He may drop by today, but not Sunday. Church and everything, ya know. His wife, if she’s still around, wouldn’t like it.”

Chad leaned into Lizzie and grabbed her hand. He squeezed it so hard she gasped. “What are you doing?” Lizzie’s words merged together. “That really hurts.” She winced when his hand tightened and he twisted her wrist.

“You do have everything worked out with that Ph.D. friend of yours, right?” This man was nothing like the Chad she loved.

“Of course.” Lizzie wheezed the words. “Let go.”

Chad dropped her hand and it thumped against a crate. Lizzie flapped it several times to rid it of the sting, then rubbed it. Small wormlike welts had already appeared. An unusual meanness was etched in Chad’s face. Surely he was scared of the risk that lay ahead for them tomorrow, Lizzie thought. She was, too.

Chad hoisted a carton off a shelf and walked to the storeroom exit. “Sorry,” he called out over his shoulder. His tone held more scorn than apology.

“It’s okay,” Lizzie mumbled.

“What’s okay?” Warden Stump stepped inside the storage area.

Lizzie jumped. “Oh, Wilbanks dropped the box. I told him it was okay because there’s nothing breakable in it.” Had the warden heard anything else she and Chad had talked about? She studied Stump’s face for a clue. It held the usual blankness.

Jones stepped inside behind Stump. “We need to check that everything is stored in its proper place and stacked on pallets, don’t we, Ms. Chatfield?”

“Sure. We don’t want to get caught off a pallet,” Lizzie said with too much enthusiastic sarcasm.

Jones and Stump laughed. The three walked to the prep and cooking areas, observing that everyone was dressed properly. Chad had even put on a hairnet without being told.

“Good to see you have all your cleaning supplies stored in the appropriate place and well labeled,” Jones said to Lizzie as he beamed at the warden for approval.

Stump was paying no attention. He was too busy ogling Lizzie.

Your cleaning supplies?
Lizzie asked herself. When had they become hers and not the prison’s? Didn’t Jones think he had anything to do with the kitchen he supervised? Tomorrow couldn’t arrive fast enough.

Jones motioned to the warden and Lizzie to follow him into the chow hall. He pulled a thermometer from his breast pocket and checked the temperature of the macaroni and cheese stored in a heating tray waiting to be served in less than a half hour. He read it. “Good, good.” Jones rubbed his hands together as though he’d discovered something delicious. He turned to the warden. “I think we’re ready for the inspection. Everything’s spic ‘n’ span, don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” Stump said to Lizzie rather than Jones. He turned to Jones and said, “Be sure it stays that way. We don’t need any unwanted reprimands from central office. And we sure don’t need them nosing around here.”

From his comment, Lizzie wondered what he might be hiding. “No, we sure don’t need anyone sniffing around.” Lizzie smiled in concurrence, noting a hint of alcohol on Stump’s breath. Stump took a step back.
Nice to keep the Ghost on edge,
Lizzie thought.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Jones said. “I need to check on those prisoners and make sure they’re cutting the meat for tonight and not each other.”

“Me, too. We have a lot to get done before the inmates get here growling for their food.” When Lizzie tried to walk away, Stump stepped in front of her.

“Got plans for tonight, Ms. Chatfield?” he asked.

Stump had become a broken record. He seemed to ask the same question each time he and Lizzie were together.

“I’m having an early dinner with my best friend.” She stepped around him. Did he think her answer would ever be different?

“It’s Saturday. Don’t you have anything special to do?” His eyes widened in salacious anticipation of her answer.

“Nope. I work weekends. That means early to sleep and early to rise.” Lizzie walked faster. Did he suspect her affair with a prisoner, or could Chad be right? Stump might have a thing for her.

Lizzie practically ran into the kitchen. She checked over her shoulder. Stump hadn’t chased after her. Everyone in the prep area stopped what they were doing and stared at her.

“Are you in a hurry to get the food ready and go home, Ms. Chatfield?” Jones asked teasingly.

“Something like that.” She scowled at the men. “Get back to work. We got a meal to get out.” She turned again to see if Stump had come in. He was gone.

Chad was at the oven checking the cake. Lizzie casually sauntered to his side. “How’s it look, Wilbanks?”

“Almost done, Ms. Chatfield.” He sounded angry.

Lizzie bent over to check for herself and to get as close to Chad as she could.

“You better hope the warden isn’t snooping around here on Sunday,” Chad cautioned and stood. His face was once again etched in that odd meanness.

“You got that right,” Lou called out. “Bad enough we gotta put up with him weekdays.” His words slurred over his toothless gums. “Don’t need him hassling us on weekends.”

“You all act like it’s my fault he’s in and out of here without warning.” Lizzie didn’t try to hide her anger as she said, directly to Chad, “He is the warden and can come and go whenever he pleases. We have to deal with that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” all three prisoners said in unison. Chad tipped his finger to his forehead in a mock salute.

“Let’s get the rest of this food out on the serving line. Then grab yourself a plate. We’ve got ten minutes.” Lizzie quickly restored the self-confidence to her manner. She had to. She couldn’t let anyone see that she was nervous or that she had more of a concern about Stump being there over the weekend. Also, she was feeling major apprehension about Chad’s abrupt personality change. Could this be the dark side so many had warned her about? The side Priscilla talked about the other night? No. It was only his nerves getting the best of him as the time grew closer to their big day. She was convinced.

As soon as the line began to form, Lizzie left the building, and Jones and another food service employee took over. She glanced briefly at Chad to let him know she had to go, but he never looked at her. Another alarm went off in her head. Chad had never before failed to at least wink at her when she left the facility for the day. Like Chad, she would be glad when this whole thing ended and they would be the happy, easygoing couple she’d anticipated until today.

Lizzie drove the truck to the salleyport, again paying more attention to the officer’s routine than she ever had before. She had to be prepared for an officer’s every move. Once he checked the cargo area, he signaled for the gate to open and Lizzie drove through.

A half hour later she hung up her blue smock and put on her down jacket, wool cap and gloves. She clocked out and retrieved her purse from her locker. She didn’t want to keep Priscilla waiting. Regardless of the hold she had on her, she didn’t want to piss Priscilla off when she was asking her to do the biggest favor she’d ever done in her life for anyone other than Dwayne.

Other books

Ghostwalkers by Jonathan Maberry
High Heat by Carl Deuker
The Finishing Stroke by Ellery Queen
Starfighters of Adumar by Allston, Aaron
A Man of Forty by Gerald Bullet