Shaw sat in the cellblock’s communal room late that afternoon, lost in thought—the only activity available to him other than talking to the meth head at the next table, who already seemed engrossed in multiple conversations inside his brain.
Kilbane hadn’t killed Nelson Bao. And if Shaw had needed more confirmation that the Droma security chief wasn’t behind the attack on him at the park, all three members of his team had spent Thursday night as guests of San Juan County.
Rohner could afford plenty of bent lawyers like Chiarra. But the attorney’s willingness to consider extralegal options put him in a category more like the covert Chen and Zhang, or like Shaw himself. People whose primary concern for the law was how to get around it. Shaw’s bet was that Chiarra had been sent by whatever unknown firm employed Karla Haiden.
The same guard that had taken Shaw from his cell in the morning appeared at his shoulder.
“You got a video call,” the guard said. He led Shaw down another corridor to a larger room that might have been for classes or support-group meetings. Stacked columns of the ubiquitous plastic chairs covered one wall. At the opposite end of the room were four thick posts, each with two metal stations shaped like old slot machines, with phone receivers instead of pulling levers.
The guard pointed him to the chair in front of Station 6. “Fifteen minutes.”
Shaw sat and saw Wren on the screen. Behind her was a plant-festooned shelf he recognized as being on the wall of her bedroom. He picked up the receiver.
“Hey,” he said. “How’d you find me?”
“Great to see you, too.” Wren laughed weakly.
“Sorry. Yes. Your face is the best thing I’ve seen since . . . since the last time I saw it. But how—”
“Your lawyer Mr. Ganz knew to call Addy. Addy called me. I found out about this service and downloaded the app on my phone. I think Mr. Ganz might’ve pulled a string or two to let me call direct.”
“Do me a favor. Call Ganz and let him know that I’ve found temporary representation. And that if it doesn’t work out, I might take him up on his offer later.”
“Van, what’s going on?”
“These calls are recorded. I can’t talk details, but I can promise you I haven’t killed anyone. I think the initial evidence caused the cops to look in the wrong direction.”
“And in the meantime you’re stuck there.” She shook her head. “You sound so calm about it. As though being accused of . . . as though jail was a regular thing that everyone has to deal with. Like renewing your car tabs.”
“My perspective might be a little skewed. You know my family.”
She nodded and looked away. Her light brown eyes shining, a bright varnish on the chestnut wood.
“I’m angry,” she said. “For you, if you can’t be. Furious enough for the both of us.”
Shaw smiled. “I can be calm and angry at the same time. One of my best tricks.”
“Don’t try to cheer me up. I’m enjoying my fury.”
“Tell me news of the outside world, then. Did you spend all weekend weeding the Snohomish garden?”
Wren accepted Shaw’s change of subject and spun him a story about Lettie both wanting to protect the honeybees that had discovered the garden and fighting the urge to slap frantically and flee to the car whenever one came near her. She’d fallen asleep on the car ride home, which Wren concluded was only natural, since Lettie had run the equivalent of a 10K that afternoon, twenty steps at a time.
“The counter on this app says we only have a minute left,” Wren said.
“Tell Addy I’m all right. If Cyndra doesn’t know . . .” He hesitated. “Leave it to Addy’s judgment whether to tell her where I am. She and I had an argument just before all this went down. We didn’t leave off in a good place.”
“What were you quarreling about?”
“You. Sort off. Cyn heard me mention Karla to Addy. She figures I’m cheating on you.”
“Oh. Crap.”
“That was my thought as well.”
“I’ll . . . I’ll talk to her. Try to explain,” Wren said. “If that’s all right.”
“You couldn’t do any worse than I did.”
“I’m sure it will be okay. Not just Cyn, but everything. Is it . . . difficult in there?”
“No. It’s jail, not supermax. Boredom is the main enemy.”
“Tough guy.” She touched the screen, briefly concealing her face. “I miss you. Strange to say since we just saw each other . . .”
“But it’s different,” he agreed, “because we can’t.”
“Soon.”
She ended the call.
The guard led Shaw back to his cell. The communal room was empty; playtime had ended while he’d been talking to Wren. He sat on his bunk.
How soon until Chiarra could make his arrangements? They would need an opportunity. No one would be storming the gates of the King County Correctional Facility. That meant getting Shaw moved to another location. The most vulnerable point would be while he was in transit. How could the lawyer manage that? Claim that Shaw required a hospital visit? Special care of some kind?
Waiting for the jailbreak was beginning to feel like his time in the Rangers. You never knew when the call would come. You just had to be ready to move—and move damned fast.