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Angel loved working in the library. She was rewarded with the job after she earned her degree. There was something about the calm quiet of the place that appealed to her. In addition to keeping the place neat, tidy, and well organized, she was expected to tutor other inmates. Normally, it was something she genuinely enjoyed. That morning, she was a mix of raw emotions fueled by a lack of sleep and extreme horniness.
“Okay, Humphrey, for your next assignment, what are you going to do?”
“Put the thesaurus down.” The woman huffed.
“Don’t get me wrong, it can be helpful. Just not for every sentence,” Angel cautioned before leaning back.
“Tired?” Humphrey snickered.
“A little bit,” she admitted, fighting against releasing a huge yawn.
“You have only yourself to blame. Just so you know, you kept the whole cellblock awake.”
“Peachy.”
“Your new bunkie is hot.”
“Get out of here before I give you another assignment.”
Humphrey departed, giggling the entire way. Angel released a loud growl before resting her head on the table.
“Tired, are we?”
She jerked her head up to find the family seated at the table. “Geez.”
“Heard you had a late night,” Nana taunted her.
“We all heard,” Becks joined in.
“Missed you at breakfast,” Nana said, sliding a muffin toward her.
“Crawly gave me a hard time, but I managed to stay in my bunk. Thanks,” she added, happily taking a bite of the blueberry muffin.
“You flashed him?” Hawkins snickered.
“It’s Crawly. Of course I flashed him.”
“Rivers?” Mom prompted.
“Work detail, not the laundry. She’s mopping the floors over in B.”
“Merriman has been busy,” Becks noted, stiffening when the guard entered the room. “Speak of the devil.”
Angel moved quickly to hide the muffin. “Don’t,” Merriman chided her. “I’m just happy to see that you’ve made it through the night.”
“Oh, come on.” She snarled. “Rivers is what, five-four and a hundred pounds dripping wet? Why is everyone convinced she’s going to take me out?”
“I don’t know how to tell you this, but this isn’t the first time she’s gone down for offing someone.”
“What?” Becks gasped.
“You mean her stepfather. She was a kid. Do you honestly think she shoved him down a staircase because she was throwing a tantrum?”
“He was a cop.”
“Well then, that explains everything,” Angel snapped. “I’m sure he was an upstanding citizen. Remind me, how old was she?”
“Twelve,” Merriman reluctantly supplied.
“Twelve?” Nana snarled. “That means she spent six years in juvie.”
“Then four more in Clark.” Merriman’s discomfort seemed to be growing.
“Clark? That’s where I was sent before here. How did a child end up there?”
“She killed her father.”
“Uh-huh.” Nana sniffed.
“How long ago did she get out?” Mom asked, strumming her fingers on the table.
“I don’t know.” Merriman shrugged. “I think it was about six, maybe seven years ago. Why?”
“I’m just thinking that for someone who is such a danger to society,” she slowly began, “she certainly took her time before she whacked someone else. I find it strange none of us heard about her. Seems kind of newsworthy. That must have been a speedy trial.”
“There wasn’t one,” Merriman stammered. “She pled out. Judge sentenced her right away.”
“Excuse me?” Angel was livid. “That does not happen.”
“It did.”
“You’re telling me she was arrested and tossed in here without causing a stir. I stole a glorified camper, and it took months for me to be sentenced. Something is not right. Is this why Littleton paid us a visit last night?”
“Littleton? What are you talking about?”
“Just before lights out, she came to warn me about getting too close to Rivers.”
“She shouldn’t be anywhere near your cell,” Merriman fussed. “Never mind, she’s phobic. She probably just wanted to make sure you kept your hands to yourself. Speaking of which, from what I’ve heard, you got your rocks off last night.”
“What’s it to you?”
“I just thought you’d be in a better mood.”
“She has a point,” Dockett had the bad manners to mutter.
“This has been fun.” Merriman grunted. “I need to go before someone asks me why I’m letting you hang out together.”
“We’re reading,” Becks feebly offered.
“Don’t you need a book for that?” Merriman snorted before leaving.
“She’s right, you know,” Nana announced once Merriman was gone.
“Yeah, you could have come up with something more convincing. Or at least picked up a magazine.”
“Don’t be a smart ass. She’s right about your mood. Your cell sounded like a carnival last night.”
“You heard us from your cell?”
“Not my fault you’re a screamer.”
“I’m tired,” Angel whined, scrubbing her face.
“Yes, we all heard why.” Becks snorted, clearly amused. “Which is why we’re questioning why after a night like that, you’re so bitchy.”
“We didn’t do anything.”
“Right.”
“We just put on a show.”
“No wonder you’re all keyed up. All that rocking and no rolling,” Nana surmised. “You know what I don’t get?”
“How Walt can ride Rivers all night and still claim they didn’t have sex?” Hawkins scoffed. “Tell us again how the two of you just cuddled.”
“I’m trying not to think about that. What I don’t understand is why folks get all snippy because you’ve taken out more than one person. Given the chance, I’d do things differently.”
“You wouldn’t have killed those guys?” Angel hopefully inquired.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and there isn’t a scenario where they don’t end up dead.” Nana scoffed. “If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t ask my junkie friends to help me hide the bodies. I mean, they’re good at the actual moving the body part, but let me tell you, the second they get high, they tell everyone. I mean everyone. It’s all, Hey, this is some good shit, Larry would have liked it. Too bad Justine killed him and chopped him up.”
“I can never tell if you’re yanking my chain.”
“She’s not,” Mom supplied. “Now, explain to me why you and Rivers were rolling around all night and nothing happened. You’ve been hot for her from the get-go.”
“No, I’ve been concerned. Besides, we just met and she’s vulnerable,” Angel choked out, not understanding why everyone expected something to happen. She expected that kind of reaction from the likes of Steger and company, not from the people she thought knew her.
“Don’t be giving her a hard time for having standards. Nothing wrong with courting,” Becks finally stepped in.
“Courting? There’s no courting. I’m just looking out for her.”
“Just make sure that whenever the two of you are seen together, that child is humping your leg like a horny dog,” Nana tossed out.
“That’s so romantic.” Before Angel could say anything else, Merriman entered the room calling out her name.
“And she’s back.”
“I forgot why I came down here in the first place. I’m supposed to be escorting you to the warden’s office.”
Nana shook her head with dismay. “And she’s the best of the lot.” She tsked.
“What about?”
“Don’t know.”
Angel nervously waited outside of Warden Gifford’s office. One of the things Angel prided herself on was not being noticed. Over the past couple of days, her life was on full display. She didn’t like it. Not the part where she had to lead a young woman around like a pet. Not the part where everyone was watching. Certainly not the part where she found herself parked in the warden’s outer office.
She glanced over at Pierce, the warden’s assistant. He was a squirrely-looking man with a wiry frame, thick glasses, and an overwhelming need to constantly adjust himself.
Merriman was seated next to her, flipping through a magazine. Every once in a while, she’d look up and sneer at Pierce. They both stood when the door to the warden’s office opened.
“We will call you when the prisoner is ready to be transported back to the unit,” he curtly informed Merriman. She grunted before nudging Angel toward the warden’s office.
Angel felt anxious when she sat in the chair directly in front of the warden’s desk. Gifford glanced at her before she began flipping through a file.
“You’re not in trouble,” she glibly offered. “I just need to ask you a few questions. I’ve been going over your file, Walters. You’re a curious woman.”
“No kidding.” She sniffed indignantly. No matter how well-meaning, there would always be a divide between the inmates and staff.
“From your file, I see you’ve been able to maintain steady employment on the outside. Never once stealing from your employer.”
“Why would I steal from someone who’s helping me?”
“As I was saying, you are a curious woman,” she offered brightly.
Angel suspected it was her attempt at winning her over. People like the warden didn’t just reach out to be friendly. She wanted something.
“Your former cellmate Bonnie Harris,” she carefully began. “Do you know what upset her the other day?”
“I can only guess.”
“And your guess would be?”
“She wanted to see her kids. Did you know her mother put her kids in the system?”
“That can be disappointing. However, she has made serious allegations.”
“You don’t say.”
“Drugs,” Gifford whispered, unaware that it wasn’t a secret. “I know it’s hard to believe. She claimed she was slipped drugs in the SHU. She, in fact, had drugs on her. She claimed that someone slipped them to her while she was in confinement.”
“If she had drugs, that would make sense.”
“Excuse me?” Gifford responded with a shrill tone.
“Based on my limited experience in solitary, I need to point out that prisoners are searched prior to being put in SHU.”
“Oh?” Gifford gulped. “That would make a certain amount of sense. Although she claimed that she held on to the drugs overnight. Do you know why she would do that?”
“She could have been considering using them. She might have been worried about who she could tell. Something like that, you don’t know who might be involved.” Angel was already regretting expressing her opinion.
“You mean like a guard?” Gifford snapped in an incredulous tone.
“I wouldn’t know,” Angel calmly replied. “I don’t do drugs.”
“I have heard that. Still, you must have heard the rumors about drug use.”
Angel leaned back, folding her arms over her chest, offering a stone-cold look as her response.
“If it is in fact the truth, I can assure you that clearing this prison of substances is one of my top priorities. I just don’t know how they’re getting in.”
“Uh-huh.” Angel repeated, knowing full well how drugs made it inside. She lacked a desire to help this woman.
“It’s a mystery. Everything including the mail comes through the men’s prison. I doubt that they’re coming in with the food. From what I’ve heard, Mrs. Cooper wouldn’t stand for it.”
“She’s been clean and sober for decades and doesn’t condone drugs,” Angel confirmed, feeling a need to speak up for Nana.
“Yes, I’ve heard that and that she once tried to assault a kitchen worker who tried to use her position to distribute narcotics.”
“She’s direct.” Angel didn’t feel conflicted confirming the rumor. From what she knew, it happened in the late eighties. Nana was serving life without parole; nothing Angel said would affect her situation.
“Harris accused the laundry workers. Do you think that’s possible?”
Angel and everyone else knew Hollister was the main supplier. Steger, who worked for her, also worked in the laundry. It would stand to reason drugs were channeled through the laundry. It wasn’t rocket science. However, it appeared that the obvious explanation was an option the head of the prison failed to pursue.
Angel was tempted to smack this woman upside the head and shout, Of course, they’re coming in through the laundry service! Maybe if we weren’t doing the men’s laundry, as well, there wouldn’t be so much floating around the cellblocks!
Angel was in a precarious position. If she confirmed that it was possible, it could be viewed as snitching. If she denied the obvious, she could be viewed as a dealer.
“I don’t know what to tell you. As I said, I don’t do drugs.”
“Fair enough,” Gifford tentatively accepted. “There is the commissary. Ellis could be the driving force.”
“Ellis?” Angel fought against laughing. “And just how do you think she’s concealing things?”
“I’ve learned that you ladies are nothing if not resourceful.”
“Yeah, like walking around naked so you will be moved to B block.”
“I doubt that’s what she’s up to. Besides, she doesn’t qualify to be housed in B. That’s for nonviolent offenders.”
“Ellis was a fence who mistakenly slapped an undercover cop. Unlike Rudolph, who killed someone. Tell me, does she qualify for the comfy wing because she hails from a fine old Southern family? A family that still possesses a great deal of money and influence?”
“That has nothing to do with how we assign housing.”
“Of course not. Is there anything else?” Angel asked, eager to get back to the library so she could sneak behind the stacks to grab a cat nap.
“Just one more thing.” At this point, Gifford’s tone turned to boredom. “Since you’re concerned with housing assignments, perhaps we should discuss your new cellmate. I understand that you’re aware of her violent tendencies.” Before Angel could comment, Gifford forged on. “One of my officers feels that you will be a positive influence on her. However, she’s a violent offender. I just need to reassure myself that you’re comfortable with her placement.”
“Rivers and I get along just fine,” Angel muttered, suspecting that the dear old warden was fearful of a lawsuit if things went awry.
“I wanted to let you know if there’s anything about this new situation that makes you feel uncomfortable, my door is always open.”
“I’m good.” And you are up to something.