98: “We’ve got another hour until visiting opens up,” Porter said from the passenger seat of Sarah Werner’s BMW.
They’d driven straight from the airport to the prison.
He didn’t have a choice.
He knew that.
“She’ll be restrained,” Sarah offered. “She can’t get away. Just keep her close, and when you know the girls are safe, take her back into custody. Technically, she’s not leaving custody. Maybe handcuff yourself to her. Isn’t that what you cops do? Hell, I don’t know.”
Sarah had received an e-mail from the prison ten minutes after Bishop broke contact, an automated response that said documentation regarding inmate #2138 had been received and processed, along with about twenty pages of canned information regarding prisoner custodian release and responsibilities.
Porter tried calling the number Bishop used to text and received a recording. “The number you have dialed is no longer in service or has been disconnected. Please check . . .” He had heard the message before. He hung up.
“How much cash do you have left?” Sarah asked.
Porter let out a sigh and patted the inside pocket of his jacket. “Twenty-three hundred and twelve dollars.”
She parked in the middle of the lot, the nose of the car pointing at the visitor entrance. “They open at nine to the general public, but lawyers are allowed in any time after eight.”
“I should do this alone,” Porter said. “I’m already in trouble. There’s no reason for you to get wrapped up in all this.”
“Oh, I think I’m twisted up good and tight in all of it at this point.”
“This is a prison break. You’ll be on camera. At the very least, you’ll be disbarred.”
“You give the worst pep talks.”
“You don’t need to throw your life away over this.”
Sarah sighed. “Bishop was clear. He said we both need to go in, so we’re both going in. I just need to stop sweating first.”
“You’re sweating? It’s cold.”
“It’s probably related to the shaking. I’d like for that to stop too.”
She was shaking. Porter watched her hand bouncing nervously on the steering wheel. “I’m going in alone. Fuck Bishop, he’s—”
Sarah turned off the ignition and was out the door before he could finish his thought. “Let’s go, Detective.”
“Shit,” Porter muttered. He took out Bishop’s knife and Libby’s locket, tossed them both into the glove box, then fumbled with his seat belt and chased after her.
At this early hour the visitor center was deserted. As before, the guard asked for Porter’s driver’s license, then Porter was asked to remove his belt and shoelaces. He placed these inside one of the lockers along with his wallet and jacket, the cash still in the jacket pocket. The guard closed the small door and handed him the key. He was then patted down and swept with a handheld metal detector. When the guard cleared him, he stepped into the adjoining hallway. Sarah joined him a moment later.
“Now what?” Porter asked.
As if in response, the metal door beside them buzzed and opened. Another guard stepped through, the door closing behind him. Weidner. He was on a cell phone. He held up a finger and nodded at them. When he finished the call, he ushered them into a small anteroom. “Wait here, please.”
Every time the door in the hallway buzzed, Porter’s heart throbbed in his chest.
The door buzzed five times before Weidner returned with two other guards behind him. Between them, Jane Doe shuffled along, her arms and legs in restraints.
Weidner produced a clipboard and handed it to Porter. “Sign here, here, and here, please.”
Porter felt Doe’s eyes on him, burning into the side of his head as he scribbled his name.
“This is a day pass. Get her back here no later than five tonight. The restraints must stay on at all times. She is wearing a monitoring device on her ankle and cannot leave Orleans Parish. If she does, you will be in violation of the court order.”
Court order? How had Bishop—
Weidner went on. “Normally a prison guard would be required to join you, but because you are law enforcement and she’s being released into your custody as part of an ongoing investigation, that is solely your call. Would you like one or more guards to accompany you?”
Porter shook his head.
Weidner handed him a business card. A small key was taped to the back. “If for some reason you are unable to return her by five tonight, Detective, call that number and inform the duty chief.”
Porter slid the business card into his pocket.
Weidner took the clipboard, flipped to the second page, and handed it to Sarah. “As her attorney, I’ll need you to sign here, authorizing the release into Detective Porter’s custody.”
Sarah signed and returned the paperwork to him.
He studied both pages, then nodded at the guards behind him, then up at the camera in the corner of the hallway. The door buzzed again, and the two men led Jane Doe back inside, the steel door closing at their backs.
Weidner turned back to Sarah and Porter. “Pick up your possessions, then pull your car around to gate 12 at the side of the visitors center.”
He left then, disappearing behind the locked door.
Porter and Sarah stared at each other for a moment. The entire exchange had taken less than five minutes.
Back at the lockers, they retrieved their possessions. Porter noted his jacket was considerably lighter without the cash in the pocket.
When they pulled up to gate 12, Jane Doe stood inside the chainlink fence, flanked by the two guards. There was a loud buzz, and the chainlink opened like the metal doors inside the prison. The guards led her to Sarah’s waiting BMW and helped her into the backseat, closing the door behind her.
Jane Doe smiled from the backseat. “We need to go to your office, Ms. Werner. Chop, chop.”