The Death Row Complex (11 page)

When she felt calm enough to do so, Katrina fulfilled her promise to her daughter. Sitting on the edge of Alexis’ bed, she gently pulled the sagging bow from the girl’s long hair and brushed it out, beginning at the tips.

“Is Daddy coming home now?” Alexis asked quietly.

“I think so,” Katrina said. “He had a problem with his car, but he should be on the way. So go to sleep. I love you.”

Alexis lay down obediently and allowed Katrina to pull her covers up over her nightgown to her neck. Katrina kissed her forehead, and Lexi kissed her own tiny fingers and then planted them onto her mother’s lips. “I love you more,” Alexis said, giggling.

After leaving her daughter’s room, Katrina rushed quickly down the hall into the master bedroom, where she locked the door behind her. She finally let herself break down, and she sat down on the bed weeping as quietly as she could.

Then there was a crash and a breaking of glass. She ran into the living room and screamed.

4:43 P.M.
PDT

Her work history was as impressive as Guofu Wong had said, and it showed in her Homeland Security file. What surprised Sean McMullan was the financial status of the allegedly brilliant young doctor. Katrina Stone was broke and had been for her entire life.

McMullan had no idea that Ph.D.-level researchers made so little after going to school for so long. Stone had twenty years of education—and education expenses—under her belt. And she made less money than a successful plumber.
God, what a rip-off
, McMullan thought.

As he skimmed through the financial record, he found a myriad of odd jobs that she had worked, from bartending while in graduate school back to topless dancing in college. The latter was only a six-month employment, and he noticed it ended when she got married. The FBI agent tried to envision the classy, professional woman he had met earlier that afternoon shaking it in a tittie bar, but couldn’t.

Then he saw the legal section of the file, and a queer idea began to form in his mind.

McMullan began reviewing his notes from the prison.

At present, San Quentin is home to more than four hundred death row inmates. The majority of dead men walking live in East Block—the largest of three death row areas. While some basic freedoms are granted in East Block, a violation of the rules will land the offender in The Adjustment Center, where the inmate’s phone calls, visitation, and other luxuries are stripped from him.

The original death row wing of the prison—North Seg—is now the coveted wing among death row inmates. Those who exhibit stellar behavior must actively petition to reside in North Seg, and once there, the slightest infraction will send them back to East Block.

The anthrax outbreak at San Quentin had been confined exclusively to North Seg—the country club among death row inmates and home of the most well-mannered rapists, murderers, and child molesters in California.

No other area of the prison had been touched.

Sean McMullan had been expecting the legal section of Katrina Stone’s file to be mostly blank. Instead, he found several hundred pages of documentation detailing several years of legal struggle.

There was a divorce, which revealed nothing unusual. Joint custody was granted; there was no alimony and little child support. The ex-husband, a Navy Corpsman, was not well to do either.

But there was also another thick section of the legal file. There was a lengthy criminal trial involving a man named Lawrence Naden.

In 2007, Lawrence Naden was captured in a Baja California crack house, a rush of heroin flooding his bloodstream as the
federales
closed in. Hours later, Naden was in jail.

That morning, fifteen miles across the border, an answering machine clicked mechanically after the fourth ring of the telephone. “Hello, you’ve reached the Stone residence,” a woman’s voice said. “Please leave a message after the beep.”

“Hello Mrs. Stone,” the caller began. “This is Detective Martinez of the SDPD. I have some good news for you. Lawrence Naden was caught this morning in Ensenada. He is being extradited from Mexico and sent to the San Quentin State Correctional Facility. He will be tried here in the United States.”

The caller paused briefly and then continued. “While I’m sure it is little consolation, you can probably be confident that Naden will be convicted and will never be able to terrorize another family again. The case against him is very strong. Please call me if you have any questions. You have my card. I will keep you informed of the details as they develop… ”

As the last sentences rang through the empty living room, the front door opened and a woman raced to the phone. A small child followed her into the house. Except for her hair—short and blond, rather than long and auburn—the woman resembled a slightly older version of Katrina Stone almost eerily. She hastily picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

The woman was answered by the dial tone.

“Shit,” she said under her breath.

“You’re not ‘apposed to say that,” said the small child at her side.

The woman smiled softly. “I know, sorry kiddo. Listen, Lexi, why don’t you go play in your room for a few minutes. I need to talk to your mommy. I’ll come in and play with you when we’re done though.” She leaned over to kiss the girl’s forehead.

Alexis trotted off to her room as she was told.

After she heard the bedroom door close, Kathy played back the message on the machine. She began to cry softly while it was playing. When the message was over, she pressed the “erase” button and went into the bathroom to collect herself.

Afterward, she walked to the master bedroom and softly knocked. There was no response. She partially opened the door and poked her head in. Then she opened it all the way and entered the room.

Katrina was lying on the bed, facing the opposite wall. She didn’t turn over.

Kathy sat down on the bed and began to gently rub her sister’s lower back. “Trina,” she said quietly, “the police called. They caught him.”

There was no response.

The older woman sat in silence for a few moments, continuing to rub Katrina’s back. “Trina,” she said again, “I need to talk to you. Please look at me.”

Katrina still did not roll over.

“You’re my only sister, and you know I love you and I’d do anything I can for you. But I have to go home soon. I’m going to lose my job.” She paused for several moments before adding, “And Tom is seeking full custody.”

Katrina finally rolled over and looked at her sister. “What?”

She had lost a noticeable amount of weight over the last two months, and her face looked pale and sallow.

“Look, I know he’s a bastard and doesn’t even deserve the right… ” Kathy stopped as her voice began to catch. Then she cleared her throat and continued authoritatively, “You have to go to court. You have to be able to prove you can take care of yourself. He’s
marrying
that home-wrecking whore, which—believe it or not—will demonstrate parental stability to the court. I know, it’s backward, unfair, and basically ridiculous, but that’s how it is.”

She was interrupted by the distant ring of the living room phone.

Annoyed, Kathy grabbed the receiver of the phone on the nightstand next to her. Its ringer had been turned off since that night two months ago. “Hello!” she said angrily. “
Tom
? No, Tom doesn’t live here anymore. He left his beautiful, intelligent wife to go boink a bottle-blond piece of trailer trash with an
unbelievably
fat ass!
So if you’re trying to reach him, I’m afraid you’re going to have to dial 1-800-HUGE-ASS. Thank you very much and have a nice day!” She slammed the phone down.

Katrina only gaped at her sister.

“Sorry,” Kathy said, and shrugged.

Through her tears, Katrina smiled slightly and shook her head. But the smile quickly faded. She closed her eyes and moaned. “God, what am I going to do?”

Kathy cleared her throat. “First, you’re going to get custody and child support, because you need both to survive. Then you’re going to pick yourself up and move on. Look sweetie, I know it’s hard to hear this. But I’m your sister, and I’m telling you that you need to get it together, quick, or you’re going to lose everything you have left.” Kathy swallowed at the brutality of her own words and rubbed the smeared makeup from her lower eyelid.

Katrina took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She reached down and switched on the ringer of the nightstand phone. She then picked up the receiver and dialed a number.

“Shenanigan’s,” the voice on the other end said.

“Shawna?”

“Katrina?! Yeah it’s me! Oh God, how are you, hun? We’ve been watching the news… it’s just awful… we’re all pulling for you down here at the bar… oh, God, I just can’t believe it… you know, is there anything I can do? God!”

Katrina sighed. She still wasn’t used to these conversations and never knew what to say. “I’m… uh… you know… look, Shawna, do I still have a job? ‘Cause I need one, bad.”

“Matt’s not here right now, but trust me, he’ll be happy to have you back. The regulars keep asking where the smart chick is. I’ll tell him to give you a call ASAP.”

“Thanks, Shawna,” Katrina said and hung up the phone. She looked at Kathy and shrugged. “Well, if I can’t handle the pressures of fighting infectious diseases, or afford to do it, for that matter, I guess I can always tend bar for a living. How’s that for parental stability?”

5:35 P.M.
PDT

Sean McMullan jumped when the door connecting his hotel room to his partner’s was flung open.

Gilman barged in and threw his copy of the file onto McMullan’s bed. “
I knew it!
” Gilman spat.

“Shhh, I’m reading,” McMullan said, panting from the start he had just been given.

“Well let me save you the trouble, McMullan! Stone got a faculty appointment as soon as she graduated, which James Johnson said is practically impossible nowadays, remember? So she’s unusually smart, but young and inexperienced. I gather that there are a lot of people who are jealous of her success. I’m sure she has a lot of enemies. Sure.”