16
Eddie Glover felt like the walking dead. Because his wife had recently taken a job working afternoons and evenings at a craft store, he’d switched to nights at ADX Florence. Someone had to be available for the kids after school. But a week into the change, his body hadn’t made the adjustment yet. Eight hours on his feet during the time he normally slept left him dragging, feeling punchy, dim-witted, slow to react.
Apparently he was slow to react, and none too observant. He didn’t notice the car that turned down his street until it drove up onto his lawn and three white men, all of them wearing beanies and overlarge sweatshirts, jumped out. Once he understood what was happening, he stood slack-jawed as the tallest of the three waved a pistol in his face.
“Glover?”
Eddie didn’t bother denying his identity. Although he was wearing a heavy coat, his uniform bore a tag and would be easy enough to check. “What’s going on?”
With the help of the others, the man who’d verified his name started dragging him to the front porch. But Eddie couldn’t let these men in the house. His wife and two little girls were there.
Adrenaline blasted away the cobwebs in his mind, but there wasn’t much he could do to gain the upper hand, not when he was surrounded by three thugs toting guns. His cell phone was in his shirt pocket, but he knew they’d shoot him the minute he tried to get it out. He had only the lock on the front door and his ability to reason with them.
As soon as they realized the house was locked up, the tall man with a thin line of hair along his jaw—and a pointy chin reminiscent of pictures representing the devil—nudged him. “Get your keys.”
They were in his pants pocket, but he made no move to retrieve them. “No.”
“You’re joking, right?” Devil said.
“Not at all. I won’t let you in my house.”
They stiffened as if he’d surprised them. But he couldn’t imagine why. If these men thought he’d give them access to his house under any conditions, they had no idea how much he loved his family.
“What did you say?” Devil demanded.
He eyed the storm drain, judging the distance. If they tried to get his keys, he’d throw them in there, he decided. “I can’t let you in the house. You can do what you want with me, but that won’t change.”
“Are you stupid?” This came from a much shorter man with tattoos covering every inch of visible skin, including his face. His wild eyes made Eddie nervous. He’d seen that look before, plenty of times. It usually indicated drug use and often preceded violence.
Struggling to remain calm, he drew measured breaths. Panic would get him nowhere. But it would be easier to figure out how to defuse this situation if only he understood why it was happening. He’d worked at the prison for ten years and never had an incident. “Not stupid enough to let you in my house.”
“Then we’ll shoot you here.” Wild Eyes shoved the muzzle of his gun between Eddie’s ribs. Eddie wished his neighbors were early risers, but it wasn’t even light yet. The ones who were up were probably getting into a hot shower, not peering out their windows to see if he’d made it home safe. Even his house was dark.
“If you’d just tell me what you want, maybe I could help you instead,” he said, hoping to calm them. “I’ve got my wallet. It’s right here. We could go down to the ATM.” He’d seen enough gang members to know these guys were affiliated. Their tattoos told him that much. The third man—dark hair and eyes, average height, average build—had a clover tattoo with AB on the back of his hand. Eddie recognized it as an Aryan Brotherhood tattoo and guessed they were after money. That had to be it. There wasn’t any other reason for the AB to come after him. He had good relationships with the convicts at Florence. That didn’t mean he condoned their actions; it just meant that, in his opinion, anyone who expected to be treated like a decent human being should treat others the same way.
Devil nudged his compatriot aside. “If he doesn’t want to go in the house, we’ll put him in the car.”
The car wasn’t any less dangerous for Eddie, but he was willing to go with them to draw any threat away from the house.
Devil jumped behind the wheel and fired up the engine. The more aggressive Wild Eyes shoved Eddie in the passenger seat before getting in behind him, and Clover Tattoo, who hadn’t said a word and didn’t seem all that thrilled to be there, took the other seat.
“Are we going to the bank?” Eddie asked as they ran up over the sidewalk and spun out, tearing up his lawn.
No one responded. They lurched into the street and careered around several turns, but when they headed away from the city, Eddie knew this wasn’t a robbery.
Eventually they found a dirt road leading into the countryside. Judging by the way they hurtled over grooves and potholes without any consideration for the vehicle, Eddie wondered if they were driving a stolen car. But it had very little wear and tear.
It smelled like a rental….
These boys were from out of town.
But that only added to his confusion. What was going on?
Spotting a rental agreement lying on the floor with several fast-food wrappers, he tried to get a glimpse of the name. But it wasn’t easy. The agreement had been stepped on and torn, and he was trying not to be obvious.
Something Thompson. That was what it looked like.
Eddie didn’t know anyone by the name of Thompson.
At last they came upon a wooded area, stopped and piled out. As they marched him into the woods, he thought they must have him confused with someone else. Except that they’d clarified his name. Were they trying to learn how ADX worked so they could break friends out of prison? Did they want his uniform to help with the attempt?
Once they were well-concealed by foliage, they shoved him up against the trunk of a tree and raised their guns.
His heartbeat crashed like cymbals in his ears as he studied his captors, all of them strangers. This is how my life is going to end? They gave him the impression that they were going to kill him without so much as an explanation.
But then the tall guy stepped forward. “You see how serious this is?”
“Yes, sir, I do,” he responded.
“You’d better call him sir!” Wild Eyes exclaimed, but Eddie ignored him. He addressed all inmates as “sir” and had done so for his entire tenure. It was a commitment he’d made when he’d started working at the prison. He’d decided he could judge and hate the men he guarded, or he could learn to treat them kindly, as his church taught.
“We pull the trigger and walk away, no one’ll even know where to find you, Mr. Glover.” That was Devil, who afforded him a bit of the courtesy Glover had first extended to him.
“You could be right about that,” he agreed.
“So why don’t you help us out?”
His eyes shifted from face to face. “If you’ll tell me what’s going on, I’ll see what I can do.”
“What do you know about Virgil Skinner?”
Oh, God…he didn’t have a chance. This didn’t involve an escape plot—it involved the life of a friend.
His thoughts splintered, slammed together. “After serving a number of years in USP Tucson, Skinner was transferred to ADX as a behavioral problem. We had him for almost a year but he gave us no trouble. The months he spent in Florence proved uneventful until he was exonerated and released last week.” He hoped that sounded cooperative and professional.
“You’re doing great so far,” Devil said. “Now, tell me where we can find him and we’ll let you go.”
Perspiration caused Eddie’s uniform to stick to him. “I don’t know where he is.”
Devil stepped closer. “I don’t consider a lie to be very polite. And you’re a polite guy. So why don’t we try that again?”
Clover Tattoo intervened. “He’s a C.O., man. How much can he know? Skin wouldn’t hang with no stinkin’ C.O.”
Hocking up some phlegm, Devil spat on the ground. “That was before he knew he was going to be exonerated.” Waving his gun, he drew Eddie’s attention again. “Word has it the two of you were tight. That true?”
Skinner was the brother he’d always wanted and never had. Eddie had never admired anyone more. But they made an unlikely pair, and that was all he had to hang his hopes on. “I’m not sure you’d call it tight. But I liked him. I feel terrible that he got such an unfair shake. Still…he was just another inmate, you know? You can’t get attached to them all.”
The first glimmer of sunrise lit the horizon with a pinkish hue. Eddie wished that meant someone would see what was happening and put a stop to it, but there wasn’t another soul in sight.
“You’re saying you don’t keep in touch with him?” Devil asked.
“No, sir.” Eddie thought about Virgil a lot, missed their discussions, but hadn’t tried to contact him. He knew he couldn’t.
Wild Eyes kicked dirt onto Eddie’s boots. “Who picked him up when he was released?”
Once again, Eddie felt the weight of his cell phone in his shirt pocket and wished for the opportunity to use it. “I’m guessing his sister. I think that’s all he has, one sister. I wasn’t there.” This was a blatant lie, one that could easily blow up in his face if they knew differently. They had to have selected him for a reason. But Eddie couldn’t give them any information. If they found Virgil, they’d kill him. And Virgil had already been through more than any man should have to endure. He deserved a shot at starting over, at building a better life. He also deserved to be able to count on someone who wouldn’t let him down.
“It wasn’t his sister,” Devil said.
“No? Then I can’t imagine.”
Devil wasn’t pleased. “I’m not buying it. You knew him too well not to show up for the big day.”
Eddie had been there. But he had to deny it—and pray his body language didn’t betray him. “I wanted to go. I couldn’t. I had the kids and my wife won’t let me take them anywhere near the prison.”
“Wife wears the pants in your family, does she?” Wild Eyes jeered.
“What kind of piece of shit friend are you?” Devil chimed in.
“I do my job, then I go home. I don’t carry it with me.” There was some truth to that. Treating the inmates with respect was one thing. Making them part of his personal life was another. Eddie had made an exception for Virgil because Virgil was an exceptional man.
Devil spat again. “You’re not gettin’ the point. We know where you live, man.”
Eddie’s knees nearly gave out. They had to believe him. He had to say something to make them believe. “I’d help you if I could, but I can’t. I swear.”
“You’re forcing my hand. Look at this guy.” Devil motioned to Wild Eyes. “See him?”
Eddie glanced at the crazy man who wanted to shoot him with or without cause. “Yes, sir.”
“He’s nuts. He’ll kill anybody. Women, children. Don’t matter to him. You know the type. You’ve met ’em, working where you do.”
“I’ve never had any serious problems with an inmate,” Eddie said.
“You’re going to have problems with my friend here, because we gotta have some info to take to our boss. We gotta find out where Virgil went. He’s not a magician. He had to go somewhere. And someone at that prison knows. I’m guessin’ it’s you.”
Eddie’s mind flashed to the day Virgil had told him about the Federal Bureau of Prisons coming hand in hand with the California Department of Corrections to offer him a deal.
They want me to help them bring down a gang in Pelican Bay.
You gonna do it?
I don’t know.
You’ve been through enough.
What do they care about that?
That’s a tough place to do time.
Every prison is a tough place to do time.
In the end he’d agreed to their terms, for the sake of his sister. Eddie respected that, respected him. “Why do you think he’d tell me?”
“You aren’t the only one who has friends in Florence. We know you two were pals. C.O. or not, you and Virgil hung out as much as possible.”
He hadn’t kept his friendship with Virgil a secret. He’d never dreamed there’d be any reason to. So now all he could do was try to downplay it. “We got along. But I haven’t seen or talked to him since they let him go.”
“That doesn’t solve our problem.”
“I can’t help you. I’m just a C.O. who once knew Virgil Skinner. It’s not like we’re family.”
Devil made a noise with his tongue. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” he said and, just like that, he waved for Wild Eyes to shoot.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Eddie began reciting the Lord’s Prayer.
Clover Tattoo interrupted. “You kill him, we won’t get anything.”
“He’s not talking, anyway,” Devil responded. “What good is he?”
Eddie went on with the Lord’s Prayer. He didn’t want to be the kind of person who’d betray a friend. He wanted to be better than that, better than these men who felt they could tempt him to do anything to save his own neck. If their roles were reversed, Virgil would die before giving him up. He was sure of it.
“Last chance,” Devil warned. “You gonna tell me about Virgil or not?”
Some things were worse than death. Losing his honor was one of them. Virgil had taught him that. And Eddie believed it. “He’s gone. They let him go.”
“You know more than that!” Out of nowhere, Devil kicked him so hard he doubled over but, strangely enough, he couldn’t feel the pain. He was already numb with terror.
“This isn’t working,” Clover Tattoo complained. “Let’s leave this dude alone and get the hell out of here.”
Wild Eyes swung around as if he’d shoot Clover Tattoo instead, but then he halted. “I’ll get this bastard to talk.”
“You’re about to blow his head off,” Devil responded. “What more can you do?”
“This.” Coming right up into Eddie’s face, he lowered his voice. “Tell us where Virgil Skinner is, or I’ll drag you back to your house and make you watch as I rape and kill whoever I find there. Boys, girls, it don’t matter to me. You understand? No one’ll be spared.
A bead of sweat rolled from Eddie’s temple.
“Is Virgil worth your family, sir?” Wild Eyes whispered.
Tears streamed down Eddie’s cheeks. No. As much as he loved Virgil, he loved his wife and children more. And that was why he finally told them.