Inside

31

It was seven in the morning when Peyton’s cell phone went off, waking her from a deep sleep. Afraid the noise would disturb Virgil, she slipped past the two uniformed guards she’d called for three hours earlier, and answered. Rick Wallace. Finally. Her last attempt to contact him had been a text message telling him Virgil had been attacked—again.

“Where’ve you been? I tried to reach you at least a dozen times yesterday,” she complained.

“I’ve been busy. I’m going through a divorce, remember?”

How could she forget? “Did you read my text? Operation Inside is over.”

“I got it. That sucks.”

“Virgil was attacked again,” she reiterated when he didn’t ask after their “informant’s” welfare.

“Is he okay?”

He didn’t seem to care one way or the other. “Barely.”

“Shit happens, I guess. It’s not like anyone was to blame.”

There was definitely someone to blame. The HF, The Crew and whoever had given them information. And shit happens? Virgil had almost died. Not only that, Wallace was the one who’d pushed so hard for this. She hadn’t even told him John Hutchinson had information on the judge’s murder and that, provided he’d talk, the whole thing might not have been a complete waste, and yet he was shrugging it off?

“You’re acting…unlike your usual self,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve told you. I’m going through a divorce! Anyone would be acting unlike themselves. Divorces aren’t any fun, in case you haven’t heard.”

Neither was being attacked, but his problems were always worse than anyone else’s.

She stepped aside to allow a nurse to hustle past her. “I suppose. But we can’t wash our hands of this quite yet.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think we have an informant in the department.”

Silence. Then, “No…”

“Yes! How else did The Crew manage to keep stride with us? Someone’s been talking.”

“Maybe so. But there’s no way we’ll ever be able to prove it.”

“How do you know? Just because it might be tough doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. Whoever gave Virgil up has blood on his or her hands.”

“Don’t be melodramatic, Peyton. There are a lot of ways The Crew could’ve found him.”

“Without inside information? Name one.”

“I don’t know! They have a huge network.”

“Well, whoever’s helping them has caused a real problem. Now that they know where Virgil is, they won’t back off.”

“Then he needs to get the hell out of town.”

As much as Peyton didn’t want to see Virgil go, Rick’s suggestion was the safest alternative. “He needs to go into the program as soon as possible,” she agreed. Once he was well enough to travel, anyway. But what would they do to keep him safe until then? She didn’t want to think about how easy it would be for someone with a gun to come into the hospital and shoot up the place. Neither did she want to consider what WITSEC for Virgil would mean for her.

“I’ll set it up as soon as his doctor gives the okay,” Rick said.

“Have everything ready before then.”

“I think I know how to do my job,” he snapped, and hung up.

He didn’t like the fact that she was so concerned about Virgil. But his lack of concern bothered her just as much. Shit happens… That was easy to say when it happened to someone else!

Going back into Virgil’s room, she retrieved her purse while he continued to sleep. Then she blew him a kiss and hurried out again. It was time to get ready for work. She couldn’t leave everyone in the lurch by not showing up.

“I can’t believe it!” Shady cried. “How’d they miss him? It was three on one, they had the help of a stupid HACK, and they still couldn’t get the job done? Who said the HF are bad? They’re pussies—that’s what they are!”

Don motioned for him to keep his voice down. They were walking down the pier, next to a string of boats bobbing in the water. For the most part they were alone because it was cold, even at midday. But there were a few people up by the tackle shop who might be able to overhear. “Calm down, man. He’s a lot sharper than the average con.”

Shady had his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans and was stalking toward the end of the pier, but at this he pivoted and came back toward Meeks, who’d been trailing after him. “Don’t say that shit to me! This guy isn’t any better than we are. He’s a traitor. That’s what he is. And for that I’m gonna gut him.”

Still worried about attracting attention, Meeks glanced behind them. “We’ll have our chance, huh? But you really got to calm down. All that speed you been doin’ has you messed up, man. You should sleep. We’d be smart to have some patience.”

“Patience, my ass. This is gonna happen, and it’s gonna happen soon. I didn’t drive all the way up to seacoast Siberia just to turn around and head home. You hear me? I didn’t spend all of last night sleeping in my truck just so I could crawl back to L.A. with my tail between my legs. What would I tell Horse and everyone when we got back?”

“That it’s not over, because it isn’t.”

Shady shook his head. “No, they’re waiting to hear that I got the job done, and that’s exactly what’s gonna happen. I won’t let Skin make me look like a fool to my own men.” Swinging back around, he braced against the salt air sweeping in off the sea and started toward the water again. He had too much anger and adrenaline flowing through him to stay put. He knew his agitation would be apparent to anyone who saw him, so he was trying to keep his distance from others, but it wasn’t easy to go unnoticed in this place. They didn’t fit in with all the clean-cut correctional officers, retired loggers, hopeful shopkeepers and Obama-loving artisans.

“I think you’re taking this too personal, Shade,” Meeks warned. “And it’s gonna get your ass in trouble.”

“Don’t tell me my business!”

Meeks raised his hand in a placating gesture. “I’ve been down this road before, bro. You need to listen.”

“You’ve been out of the race too long, that’s all. You’ve lost your edge. I’m tellin’ you I’m not leavin’ here until Skin is six feet under.”

Meeks’s jaw tightened at the disregard Shady showed for his advice, but Shady was so worked up he didn’t care. He hadn’t slept more than a few winks in three days but the drugs made him feel powerful. Fearless. He was powerful. And while he felt no fear, he’d dare anything.

“You’re acting crazy.”

“Maybe I am crazy!” Spittle sprayed from his mouth but he didn’t wipe it off. “Virgil Skinner’s laughing his ass off right now because he’s making us all look like idiots. We have an entire gang against him—two gangs—and we haven’t been able to touch him.”

Meeks nudged a fallen leaf into the water with his foot. “I don’t think Skin’s laughing. The HF dude who called me said he didn’t look too good when they carted him away. He’s in the hospital. That tells us something.”

“They’ll bring him back from the brink if we let them. We gotta take him out while he’s weak.”

“And how do you suggest we do that, tough guy? They have armed guards at his door! I saw them myself when I tried to get in there this morning.”

“There has to be a way to reach him,” he fumed. “We’ve got nothin’ so far. Thanks to Pretty Boy and what he did in Gunnison, we’ve got less than nothin’.”

Meeks’s cell phone rang. Eyebrows rumpled in frustration, he pulled it from his pocket. “’Lo?” Head down, he began to walk away. Shady got the impression he’d walk all the way to L.A. if he could. But he wasn’t getting out of this. He’d wanted to be a part of it; he’d follow through or suffer the same fate Shady had in store for Virgil.

“Who told you that?” Meeks said. “When?…No kidding…. What does she drive?…When does she usually leave?…Right. We’re on it.”

“Who was that?” Shady asked once he’d ended the call.

“A messenger from the Hells Fury.”

“What do they want with us now?”

“They want Skin as much as we do.”

“They should. So what’d they have to say?”

Meeks slid his phone back into his pocket. “You’re determined to find a way to hurt Skin?”

“Yeah.”

“Now we’ve got it.”

Shady felt cautiously hopeful. “Through a woman?”

“The chief deputy warden herself.”

“No…” He couldn’t believe it. Someone like that would be too far up the food chain to take any interest in a con. Except that Virgil didn’t look like the average criminal and technically wasn’t one. He’d switched sides. And he’d always had a way of making people admire him….

“How’d he meet her?” he asked skeptically.

“Who knows? Probably through whatever deal he did with the CDC. The warden and maybe a few others would’ve had to be involved, right?”

“But he’s only been here a week or so.”

“Maybe she’s butt-ugly and he was desperate, but there are rumors going around that she was crying when he got hurt. And before that, she asked a C.O. to leave them alone in an office. Those rumors have to be based on something.”

Or not. As far as Shady was concerned, it was a long shot. How much could Virgil care about this woman if he’d just met her?

But killing her would let Skin know they wouldn’t give up, wouldn’t go away. And they had nothing better to do while they waited for the opportunity to get to him. “How do we find her?”

“There’s only one road leading in and out of that prison. We watch for a white Volvo SUV with a woman behind the wheel to drive by and then we follow her home.”

At last. Something they could do that would siphon off some of his anxiety. “Then let’s go.”

As soon as they climbed into the truck, Shady crushed another meth crystal and snorted it. He preferred to be flying high when he met the chief deputy warden. He’d never done a woman before, not like he was going to do this one.

He wanted his encounter with her to leave an impression that Virgil would never forget.

It’d been a difficult day, one in which Peyton didn’t accomplish nearly as much as she normally did. Her time was taken up with putting to rest everything that’d happened during the past week. She’d spent an hour first thing with the warden and Investigator Rosenburg going over every detail of the dining hall incident, what John Hutchinson might know about Judge Garcia and how they were going to get Virgil out of Crescent City. After that they’d had a conference call, including Rick Wallace, to confirm their plans for Virgil to go into WITSEC and to talk about the leak, but that hadn’t lasted long. Once again, Rick had acted distracted and eager to get off the phone. Only at her insistence did he stay on so they could call Laurel as a group and let her know the situation.

Like Peyton, Laurel was relieved that Virgil was out of the prison mostly in one piece. At least, she sounded that way. Probably because if he healed as well as expected, she might get to see him soon. Peyton was now confident he would heal. Her discussions with his doctor, at noon and again at three, had reassured her. She’d been told he was responding very quickly to the antibiotics. He should be fine in a few days—provided they were able to keep The Crew and the Hells Fury away from him.

If Virgil entered WITSEC, Peyton had no idea what it would mean for her. Despite her teasing about marriage, she didn’t know him well enough to make any permanent decisions. She needed to figure out what she was willing to sacrifice and what she wasn’t. And yet, if he moved on without her, she was quite certain that would be the end of their relationship. He’d experienced too many terrible things in his life to believe something as good as what they felt for each other could survive. She could easily see him treasuring their brief time and yet letting it go. He’d justify that in his own mind by saying he didn’t want to risk ruining the memories they’d created. There were so many questions that had to be answered. About her and Virgil. About her job, too. She’d confessed her involvement with Virgil to Fischer. The warden had been careful to reserve judgment, had merely told her to take the next two weeks off as paid vacation. He said she needed the rest. But she knew it was because he wanted some time to reflect on her behavior and decide whether or not it warranted a reprimand.

And then there were the less personal questions, not the least of which was how The Crew had managed to find Virgil, especially so fast. No one was supposed to know where he was. Even Fischer hadn’t been told his real name and true background, not until today. There had to be someone inside the department who’d leaked the truth. How else would they have found him—and Laurel, too?

Although Rick Wallace hadn’t been too concerned about ferreting out the identity of their traitor, she definitely wanted to see the department pursue an investigation. Whoever had assisted The Crew was guilty of almost getting Laurel, her children and Virgil killed. And they had caused other deaths. A U.S. marshal and one Crew member were dead, with another on life support.

She thought Rex McCready might have information that could help explain everything. Too bad after all those calls to the warden yesterday, he hadn’t called back. But she’d worry about all of that and the rest of it later. Right now the most pressing thing on her mind was seeing Virgil again. He hadn’t been happy that she’d left him when she said she wouldn’t. He’d just threatened to walk out of the hospital if she didn’t return immediately. But she’d already planned to go back there as soon as she’d cleared off her desk.

Stifling a yawn, she glanced at the clock on the dash. Not quite five. She’d managed to get away early, which was good. She didn’t want to miss dinner with Virgil and still had to stop by her house to change. She also needed to pack an overnight bag, since she’d be spending the night. Fortunately, she’d have tomorrow to recover lost sleep. Her vacation started immediately.

Maybe she’d go with Virgil when he left Crescent City, at least until her vacation ended. Two weeks might tell them both what they needed to know….

Turning up the music, she began to sing along. On the whole, life was looking up. There’d been no incidents at the hospital today to make her fear The Crew would try to reach Virgil before they could get him away. Nothing of note had happened at the prison, either. Virgil would be well soon and then he’d go somewhere his past would never catch up with him.

And, for two weeks, they’d be together.

With that happy thought in mind, she turned into her drive, left her purse in the passenger seat since she was coming right back and hurried up to pack and change.

“Now’s our chance,” Shady said. They’d parked down the street on a dirt road off the highway, but they’d already passed the cabin where the woman they’d been following had turned in and knew where it was.

“I’ll wait here, keep a lookout,” Meeks said as Shady got out.

Shady jerked around to face him. “What’d you say?”

“This is your deal, man. I’ll help you kill Skin, and I’ll help you kill Pretty Boy. They broke their oath to the gang, and they deserve to be punished. I’ll even get your back while you’re inside. But I don’t do women.”

What was this? More pussy talk like, Have some patience…calm down…let’s think about it? He’d been right when he said Meeks had lost his edge. The guy was as weak and pathetic as those Hells Fury fuck-ups who’d ruined their opportunity to finish Skin off. But why argue? If he was going to do this, he might as well do it while he had a good buzz going.

“Fine. I don’t need you.”

Meeks called him back. “What about this?” He held out one of the guns they’d hidden under the seat. But Shady didn’t plan on using a gun. A gun made it too fast and easy on the victim. This was for Virgil, which meant it had to be special.

“Everything I need is right here,” he said, and took the knife from the sheath he kept strapped to one calf.

“But there’s no one out here to hear the shot. You could use a gun, no problem.”

“I’d rather slit her throat.”

It wasn’t easy to climb the stairs to the chief deputy warden’s door without making any noise. The deck had a tendency to creak, but the wind was blowing, which set her wind chimes dancing. He took each step slowly, listening for any sounds beyond the tinkle of those chimes, and knew she hadn’t noticed anything wrong when he found the door slightly ajar.

A wall of windows made it plain that she wasn’t in the central kitchen, dining or living room area. She’d probably gone to her bedroom to change.

If that was the case, he figured he might as well let her know there wasn’t any reason to get dressed.

Every minute seemed like an hour while Virgil was waiting for Peyton. Although he’d spent the day sleeping, too out of it to think much about anything, ever since she’d called to tell him she was on her way, and he knew she was leaving the protection of the prison, he’d been nervous. She didn’t understand what The Crew was capable of, how determined Shady would be….

Adjusting his bed so he could reach the phone, he called her cell. But she didn’t pick up.

When she didn’t answer his second attempt or his third, he began to worry even more. She knew how concerned he was. Why wasn’t she answering?

Was it because she couldn’t?

Just the thought of Shady getting his hands on her sent terror charging through him. He didn’t want to cause the destruction of the one beautiful thing he’d found in his life. That was the reason he’d been so hesitant to get involved with her. He didn’t want to taint who or what she was, didn’t want to drag her down with him if The Crew ever found him.

He was about to call the police and ask them to look for her, or try to send the officers at his door, when the phone on the table beside him rang. Assuming it had to be her, he relaxed and answered, but the person on the other end of the line wasn’t Peyton.

“Skin?”

Pretty Boy. Virgil couldn’t believe it. When he’d left Florence, he’d prepared himself never to hear from his best friend again. But he should’ve known it couldn’t end that way. “Hey, man. How are you?”

“I’m surviving. You?”

“I’m still around.”

“I hear you’re in a bad way.”

“Not so bad anymore. Where are you?”

“Here in Crescent City.” He groaned. “Only you could make me drive those winding roads for hours on end. I had to pull over and throw up twice.”

“What a kid,” he teased.

“I came to help. I’m not sure what I can do, but when the damn warden wouldn’t take my calls I just kept driving. Next thing I knew…here I was. I figured maybe I’d show up on his doorstep, make the bastard listen. But everything went down before I could get here.”

“It was close there for a second. So…how’d you find me? How’d you learn I was in the hospital?”

“The whole town knows you’re in the hospital. What happened at the prison is on the front page of the Daily Triplicate. Article says you, going by the name ‘Simeon Bennett,’ and a C.O. were in an ‘altercation’ last night and that you’re now in intensive care under armed guard. Intensive care,” he repeated. “I read that shit and I thought maybe you weren’t going to make it.”

“So you just called me up.”

“I wasn’t sure what name you were admitted under, so I told the operator, ‘That guy who almost got killed at the prison last night.’”

“And she put you through?” Virgil asked with a laugh.

“I told her I was your brother.”

Until now, Virgil hadn’t realized how badly he’d missed Rex. God, it was great to hear his voice, to feel his support. Rex had pulled him through those early years in prison. Their friendship had made the past fourteen years worth living. “I owe you for what you did for Laurel and her kids.”

“Don’t mention it. I never liked Ink, anyway.”

But he’d liked Pointblank. He was trying to shrug it off, but Virgil knew what protecting Laurel had cost him. His entire life had changed. “You gonna be okay without The Crew?”

“I don’t need The Crew. I’ve got you, right?”

Virgil grinned. “Yeah, you got me.”

“Good. Then it won’t be so fuckin’ lonely anymore. I’d come see ya right now, but those armed guards sound a bit off-putting. I wouldn’t want to have to kill them, you know? That wouldn’t be in keeping with my new stand-up life.”

“No need to get yourself in trouble. I’ll be out of here soon enough. We’ll catch up then.” His thoughts returned to Peyton and the worry simmering in his gut. “But could you do me a favor while you’re here?”

“Anything.”

“You got a car, right?” He had to have some type of transportation; he’d mentioned driving. “I have borrowed a vehicle, yes, Mr. Skinner.”

Virgil couldn’t help laughing. Stealing a car was a hell of a way to go legit, but he knew Rex didn’t have many options, and if he gave the car back when he was done with it, maybe they wouldn’t add that to the list of charges against him if he was caught. What he’d done at the safe house had been done to protect a woman and two children. If he wasn’t the one who killed the marshal, he could probably clear up his legal troubles without having to serve too much time.

“My…woman hasn’t shown up here and I’m getting worried that—”

“Your woman?” he interrupted. “Damn, you move fast.”

“Just making up for lost time. Will you check on her for me?” he asked, and gave Rex directions to Peyton’s house.