“It’s our only choice,” Wallace said. “We can’t risk a leak.”
“I promise you, my staff is completely trustworthy,” Fischer insisted.
Wallace’s wedding band wasn’t nearly as impressive as the heavy gold and diamond ring he’d bought to celebrate his recent promotion. Once again, Peyton noticed it as he lifted his hand to gain everyone’s attention before the warden could add anything else. “There are 1,400 employees at this prison. I’m not accusing anyone, but we all know that drugs, messages, weapons come in and out. For that to occur as frequently as it does, some of your staff have to be acting as facilitators. One word of warning to the Hells Fury and…well, I don’t have to tell you how fast the truth would spread and what could happen as a result.”
A frown creased Fischer’s heavily lined face. “So this investigation will include convicts and employees alike?”
“That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?” Releasing his belt, Wallace closed his briefcase. Then he and Simeon Bennett walked out.
Peyton heard their car start while she, Fischer, Rosenburg and Perry stood staring at one another. Finally the warden asked Rosenburg and Perry to excuse them for a moment, and the two men went out to wait in the van.
Bracing for a tirade, Peyton leaned against the door she’d shut on the heels of Rosenburg. She thought her boss was about to chew her out for being uncooperative during the meeting. He generally didn’t hesitate to let her know if he disapproved of her behavior. Because they were so different in their philosophies, that happened more often than she would’ve liked. But this time he surprised her.
“You don’t like the idea of this investigation, do you, Peyton?”
She’d already made that clear. “No, sir.”
“You don’t think Bennett can handle it?”
“I’m not sure anyone can. You know what it’ll be like if he’s labeled a snitch. The Hells Fury won’t demand proof. Suspicion will be enough. I’m afraid we’ll have blood on our hands before the week is out.”
He sat on the edge of the table. “One way or another, it’s going to turn into a can of worms,” he admitted. “But…if he
She couldn’t deny that. Measuring her words so she could speak the truth without undermining her integrity, she said, “It would be nice to put a stop to Detric Whitehead and his organization, yes.”
“We have no choice except to comply. You understand that, don’t you?”
After being in heels all day, her feet were beginning to hurt, but she resisted the urge to sit down. She didn’t want to appear tired or weak. She worked in a prison, had to prove herself every single day. “And why is that, sir?”
“You heard Wallace. He presented his plan as if we had some input, but we didn’t. The decision was made before he ever asked us to meet him here. Even the governor is set on it.”
Securing the flap of Wallace’s manila envelope, she bit back the accusation that he could’ve tried harder to refuse. “So…what do you suggest we do?”
“We go along with the damn investigation, as agreed. But there’s no need for two of us to spearhead this thing. I’ve given it my blessing. Now I want you to run with it.”
Apprehension clawed at Peyton’s stomach. Why would he turn such a sensitive investigation over to her? “Would you mind clarifying that, sir?”
“I’ve got more than I can handle on my plate already. You’ll take over from here.”
Irritated by a strand of hair that’d fallen from the knot at her nape, she tucked it behind her ear. “Which means…what, exactly? I’ll be the liaison?”
“That’s right. You’ll meet with Bennett whenever it’s safe to do so, and you’ll relay his progress to Wallace. This is your baby. All of it.” But
And then it dawned on her. Warden Fischer was purposely distancing himself. He was as nervous about this investigation as she was and didn’t want to be anywhere nearby if it blew up in their faces.
Now she understood why he’d invited her to attend such a clandestine meeting, even though she was far from the patsy Joseph Perry was. She was his “fall guy.” He could pacify the Department of Corrections by acquiescing to their wishes, and sidestep the blame if it all went to hell.
“Do I have any choice?” she asked.
He smoothed down his sparse white hair. “Not unless you’d prefer to tender your resignation.”
Peyton drew a steadying breath. As tempting as that sounded at the moment, she’d invested sixteen years in her career. She wasn’t about to throw it all away without a fight. Especially when there was a chance, albeit a small one, that Bennett could come through and make them both heroes.
She imagined the pale blue eyes of the man who’d sat across the conference table from her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen irises that exact shade of blue, certainly none that so closely resembled shards of ice…. “No, sir.”
Fischer smiled. “Glad to hear it. Good luck to you and Bennett,” he said, and left her standing in the conference room.
Dropping her head in her hands, Peyton cursed Fischer and his reluctance to take responsibility for what had just happened.
Was Bennett as good as Wallace thought?
She hoped so—because if he went down, so did she.
2
Wallace had provided a one-page background sketch on Simeon Bennett, nothing more. Peyton understood the need for secrecy, the danger of putting too much in writing, but this supposed “bio” revealed nothing they hadn’t been told. It was a formality, a pretense, and that made her uncomfortable. She spent five days a week with some of the most cunning liars, thieves and murderers in California. She knew when she was being played, and that was what the meeting at the library had felt like.
What was the CDCR trying to pull? She’d never dreamed she’d have to worry about the people on
A soft knock sounded at her office door.
Peyton slid the sheet of paper she’d been reading back into the envelope, then stuck it under some files on her desk. “Come in.”
Shelley, her administrative assistant, poked her curly brown head into the room. “I’m heading home. Is there anything you’d like me to do before I go?”
Peyton glanced at the clock. Four-thirty already? She was so busy the days flew by. Maybe that was why she didn’t have much of a love life—in addition to the fact that she refused to date anyone who worked at the prison, which ruled out most of the men in Crescent City. “No, thank you. I’ll see you on Monday.”
Shelley paused. “Uh-oh.”
“What’s the matter?” Peyton asked.
“You’ve got ‘the crease of concern.’”
To keep her hands occupied, Peyton straightened her stapler, pen holder, calendar. “The crease of concern?”
“Yep.” She pointed to her own forehead. “Right there. You get it whenever you’re worried. What’s wrong?”
Peyton smiled to clear away that crease. Regardless of how she felt about what the department was doing, she wouldn’t risk Bennett’s life by letting on that something unusual was afoot. “Just another inmate in gen pop claiming to be suicidal.”
“What does his psych report say?”
“That he’s a malingerer.”
“A what?”
