ELLIOT COLE looked at himself in the rearview mirror and brushed his hair to the side. He licked his thumb and used it to fix his eyebrows. He got out of the car and walked into the prison.

A chill ran down his spine as he walked through the door, and it wasn’t from the initial blast of an air conditioner, because there wasn’t one. He passed his ID through, and took a glance up at the security cameras. The appointment had been made weeks ago, the warden expected him, but he didn’t want to be seen here.

Flying too close to the sun. This must be what “edging”, as the kids said, is.

Cole patted his thigh while he waited to be called. The guard behind the desk stared at the computer, the soft blue glow reflecting on his face. Cole sniffled. This was taking too long. Didn’t they know who he was?

No. Not exactly.

The guard finally nodded at him and called his name. Cole stood up, tugged at the lapels of his jacket and walked to the door. The guard buzzed him in and then stepped around the counter.

He escorted Cole down a long, sterile hallway with plain doors on either side. Cole assumed they led to offices, but didn’t know for sure. Didn’t care, actually.

The guard stopped at one of the doors, pushed it open and pointed for Cole to enter. He did.

Fred Aguilera sat behind the desk, and wiped his brow. He nodded at Cole.

“Hot in here, right?”

Cole grinned, and felt the warmth under jacket. He didn’t dare take it off. There might be pit stains.

“Too hot,” Cole said.

“That’s why you’re here, right? I mean, it’s April, and I’m already breaking a sweat. I got this stupid box fan, and a couple of wall units in my office and meeting room and that’s it. The guys are suffering out there.” Aguilera ran his sentences together. “I’m not even ready to turn mine on yet. I mean, it was forty friggin’ degrees last week.”

Cole nodded. “Too soon.”

He wanted to get this moving, but he had to slow play it. Aguilera was the warden of this joint, and Cole had to let him play it out.

Aguilera sniffled and put the handkerchief he’d used to wipe his face on the desk. He leaned back in his chair and it creaked underneath him. His bald head glistened.

“The governor called me this morning.”

“Did he?” Slow. Play.

“Yeah. And I asked him what it would take to get central air put in this building. And he said, with infrastructure and the pension costs—all that? It would be a while.”

“Did you remind him it was the twenty-first century?”

Aguilera smiled. “We go through this every summer. They send more box fans. A few more wall units. But they refuse to go central. He said I’d have to find a way to raise the money myself.”

Cole licked his lips and waited.

“Remember that dinner we were at a few years ago? The fundraiser?”

Cole blew air out his nose. “We met there. I don’t forget meeting power brokers.”

“You and your lovely wife. How is she?”

Cole looked to the ground. The tiles were grimy. The place needed a mop, a bucket and a hell of a lot of soapy water. It was worse than the first row house he’d looked at in Paterson.

“Not something you want to talk about, I get it.”

“The governor,” Cole prodded.

“Oh, right. Right.” Aguilera wiped his nose. “Well, I told him I could probably raise the money if he did me a favor.”

Cole nodded. Here we go.

“Now, you know him. Money from a private source? That’s his sweet spot. So he asked how, and I told him about Kenneth Herrick and Jackson Donne.”

“How much will the renovations cost?”

Aguilera told him.

Cole nodded. “I can do that.”

“The governor said he would pardon them. On the down low. No news story. No press conference. He’d sign off real quick and his guys would bury it. Make sure no one even sends an email.”

“Emails often get him in trouble.”

Aguilera laughed. “He’s got to vet better.”

Cole agreed. He was putting together an army back home. And Kenneth Herrick was a key piece. And Kenneth wanted Donne. Vetting, though, was the key to putting this army together. Having the right men. The ones who wouldn’t turn on him or screw things up. He’d done enough background checks in his years, during all of the plotting and the planning. He’d never made a mistake.

Maybe that was why he still felt a chill, despite the heat.

“You’ll have the money no problem. Just like every other donation I’ve made. To clean up your ‘gambling’ history from the internet.” He made air quotes.

Aguilera swallowed. “It-it will come from a third party, of course. Having the cash trace back to you would be bad form.”

Cole nodded. “Like always.”

“Good. There’s one other thing you should know, Elliot.”

Now Cole felt the sweat at the back of his hairline. He reached back and wiped the beads away before they could ruin his sport coat. A little electricity ran through his body. The kind of zip he enjoyed. Made everything worthwhile.

“Kenneth Herrick is currently in solitary.”

Cole leaned forward.

“He killed a guy.”

 “Can I see him?”

“Didn’t you hear me? He’s in solitary.”

“The gambling can be brought out into the open at any time. Leaked to NJ dot com, perhaps?”

Aguilera sniffled again. “When this is over, we’ll both have something on each other.”

“Cost of doing business,” Cole said. “But, as long as you stay in line, we’ll be fine.”

“Let’s go,” Aguilera said.

 

“ARE YOU insane?” Cole asked.

Kenneth Herrick sat on the cot in the solitary cell. They were both dripping with sweat. None of the wall units were used in this wing of the prison. The hallway smelled like old shit, and puke.

“It had to be done.”

Cole jammed his hands in his pockets. “Why?”

“We need Donne alive.”

“I don’t trust him. I’ve looked him up.”

“I do. He’s my guy. He’ll do what I say.”

Cole took a deep breath through his mouth. He could taste the odors, they were so viscous and horrid.

“He’d better.”

“How long?”

“A day or two. Keep your mouth shut.”

“It’ll be good to be out.”

Cole grinned. “We’re old now. The world is different.”

Kenneth shook his head. “Get us out of here.”

Cole called for the guard.