False Convictions

25

CASEY’S MOUTH DROPPED open. She blinked and said, “Dwayne, we need this to get you out of here. You get that, right?”

“The machine has worked against me since the day I was born,” Hubbard said, his eyes glittering at her. “Now you’re here to tell me it’s different? You think I’m like the rest of these cattle? I have an imagination. It runs wild with the possibilities for what you could do with my blood, other unfinished business to be tagged on me.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Casey said.

“Because you’re here to help me?” he said, holding her in his gaze. “That’s what my original lawyer said, too. That’s what they said with my appeals. All of a sudden, some media lawyer shows up with her billionaire boyfriend? When it seems like it’s too good to be true, it’s because it is.”

“Jesus,” Casey said.

Dwayne turned to go, but with a nod from Mallard his guard stepped in front of him and blocked his path, raising his baton.

“Wait,” Casey said, appealing to Mallard as she stepped toward Dwayne. “Even if you’re right-let’s say it’s someone’s game-why wouldn’t you let me try? If I can show your DNA isn’t a match to whoever raped that girl, you go free. If there’s a game, you’re still here, but you’re here anyway.”

Dwayne grinned at her. “Lady, you want something from me. I might be locked away, but I know an opportunity when I see one. You want what I got? Okay. Maybe. What do I get?”

“You get out of here,” Casey said, her smile crooked with disbelief.

Dwayne’s smile faded. “I want something in case I don’t.”

Casey studied his face.

“You killed her, didn’t you?” she asked, the words spilling from her mouth without thought.

Dwayne’s face lost all expression. “I told you I didn’t.”

Mallard cleared his throat and in an undertone said, “You don’t have to listen to this, Ms. Jordan. I can get whatever you need.”

“Sure he can,” Dwayne said, nodding intelligently. “He can have them beat me to death if he wants, or beat me until you’ve got all the blood you want. Is that what you want? Some lawyer. Thanks for your help. Shit, I bet you sleep real well at night.”

“What do you want?” Casey asked Dwayne, ignoring Mallard.

Dwayne’s shoulders relaxed. A smiled curled the corners of his mouth. “Love.”

Dwayne gave Mallard a knowing look.

“What does that mean, Dwayne?” Casey asked, impatient and annoyed.

“He knows,” Dwayne said, angling his chin at the assistant warden.

Mallard pursed his lips, and to Casey he said, “He wants a wedding.”

“What wedding?” she asked.

“Dwayne has a pending application for marriage.”

“Pending for about five goddamn years,” Dwayne said, the anger flaring in his eyes.

“Why?” Casey asked.

“Married prisoners get conjugal visits,” Mallard said, pushing the glasses up higher on his nose, his cheeks flushing.

“And you found someone on the Internet,” Casey said, turning to Dwayne.

“There’s someone for everyone, Ms. Jordan,” Dwayne said.