Lights Out (12 page)

He looked up to catch Morrow nodding, his expression sympathetic. “I’ll give the food service a call, see if they can locate the truck and have it searched.”

“Thanks.”

“If you want, I can have the boys do another round of searches.”

“It can’t hurt. Besides, the Governor’s probably going to have her own people come down and take a look if anything else happens.”

Ron’s phone rang, and he punched the intercom button.

“Yes?”

“It’s Father Albright, Warden.” Shelly’s voice. “He’d like to see you.”

“Send him in.”

A second later, the door swung open and Albright entered. He looked troubled, but so had everybody else over the last few days.

“Hello, Darren.”

“Ron. Ray,” Albright replied.

Officer Morrow gave the priest a small wave. “Your day suck, too?”

“I’ve had better, but it wasn’t all bad.”

“Some good news?” Timms asked. “Well, sit down and tell us about it, Darren. Has the church eased up on that celibacy thing?”

“If only. I spoke with Omar Marquez and Anton Ribisi this morning. I did it separately, at their cells. They’ve agreed to uphold the peace we’ve talked about.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Do we even need it right now?” Morrow asked. “Lockdown should take care of that.”

“Yeah,” Darren said, “But what about when the lockdown’s over, and the inmates want to blow off some steam? Look, we’ve gone over this before, and I don’t think rehashing it’s going to do a bit of good. I just thought I’d let you know where some of the factions stand.”

“We can handle the inmates once the lockdown’s over. Don’t you worry about that,” Morrow said. His tone was a little angry.

“You wouldn’t want two of the families to ease up, maybe even back you in enforcing the peace?”

“I don’t need help from two pieces of shit like Marquez and Ribisi.”

“You didn’t seem to be against it when I held the meeting the other day.”

“I wasn’t, Father. And I’m not against it now, I just find the notion of needing the Sicilians and Mexicans to help me do my job more than a little insulting. If you--”

“Ray, calm down,” Timms said. He kept his voice soft, but firm. He watched Morrow take in a deep breath, let it out, then he turned to Albright. “What about Sweeny and Diggs? Aren’t they the ones we really need to worry about?”

“Definitely. I haven’t gotten a chance to speak with them yet, though. I got distracted on my way to see them.”

“What happened?”

“Jim Chambers.”

“Maggot?” Morrow asked.

“No, Ray. Jim Chambers. Is it really that hard to call a man by his real name?”

“No, but I’d hardly call that guy a man. He’s a Grade A freak, nothing more.”

“Ron, you want to back me up here?”

“Not particularly. Jim Chambers should have been put in a hospital with padded walls. This isn’t the place for him.”

“My God.”

“Sorry, Darren. That’s just the way I feel. I’ve read the man’s file, and quite frankly it creeped the fuck out of me. Every day he’s not found beat to death in a storage closet is a day I wonder what’s taking so long.”

“Well, Chambers is in the infirmary right now. He’s so terrified he threw up all over himself.”

“Jesus,” Morrow murmured. He followed it with a “Sorry, Father.”

“Terrified?” Timms asked. “Has he been having trouble with his cellmate? Tough luck.”

“With his cellmate?” Morrow said. “C’mon. Maggot’s been having trouble with every living creature in here, with the possible exception of Darren, here.”

“He was one of the first to see Dr. Wilson and the other victims,” Albright said. “Now, he’s saying, ‘The whole place has turned bad.’ He even says he can smell how rotten it’s gone.”

“Of course he can. He’s crazy as all hell. He can probably smell Brad Pitt’s hairspray every other Tuesday.”

“It doesn’t mean Jim’s imagining things, though. We’ve had seven deaths in the past two days. Marquez seemed a little spooked, too.”

“Really?” Timms asked. “What about Ribisi?”

“Anton didn’t let anything show, but then again, he never does.”

“Tell me about it,” Morrow said.

Ron glanced at the officer, and Morrow got up to fix himself a cup of coffee. He shook his head and looked back to Albright.

“So the natives are restless. What do you want to do about it?”

“I don’t know yet. I think ending the lockdown as soon as possible will help.”

“I can’t do that, Darren, and you know it. Not when we’re piling up bodies faster than firewood.”

Morrow sat back down, half a smile on his lips. “Technically, we’re losing bodies faster than firewood, but maybe that’s not such a great metaphor.”

“How about meals?” Darren asked.

Timms gave him a look. “Meals?”

“Sure. It gets the prisoners out of their cells for a little bit, keeps them from going stir crazy, but they’re still kept to a confined area.”

Morrow nodded. “We could watch them, too. Maybe somebody will slip up, give us some info without realizing it.”

Timms leaned back and examined the ceiling. He saw water stains like tumors. “What about safety?”

“The C.O.s can handle the population for three meals a day. Don’t worry.”

“Fine. No screw ups, though. First hint of violence, and they all get locked away for a month.”

“Thank you, Ron,” Darren said. A smile broke across his face. “This will really help.”

“Yeah, I’m a saint.” He stood and stepped to the door. “Just remember I’m going out on a limb with this mealtime shit, okay? Anything goes wrong, it’s both your asses.”

“Right.”

“Ray, make that phone call and organize another round of searches.”

“Will do.”

“And for fuck’s sake, both of you be careful.”

Ron’s friends nodded. He opened the door for them, and they left in a hurried cluster. Once his door slipped shut again, he poured himself another coffee. The phone rang as he returned to his desk.

“Yeah, Shelly?”

“It’s the Governor,” she answered. Her voice sounded worried. “Should I connect you?”

An angry, pained noise escaped him as he clamped his eyes shut. He balled a hand into a fist and thought twice about slamming it against his desk. Finally, he said, “Sure.”

His headache boomed between his temples as he sat down and scooped up the phone receiver.

“Hello, Governor.”

Five

Diggs sat at the edge of his bed, tightening his hands into fists and relaxing them. Tightening and relaxing. Tightening and relaxing. The movement worked like a metronome, keeping time while his thoughts rolled along like a bass line.

How was he going to retaliate? He knew Sweeny had sent that skinhead piece of shit after him yesterday. If Tree hadn’t been there, the asshole might have actually completed his mission. But now Tree was stuck in the hospital, and that left Diggs short a good chunk of muscle and mean. Without the big man around, folks were gonna think they could take a shot at him. That would make things real interesting real fast.

So he had to think of something fast, some way of letting Sweeny know he wasn’t gonna turn into a pussy just because his biggest badass was shut down for a few days. It had to be something big. Something nasty.

“Hey, Diggs!”

He looked up to find a guard peering in at him. The cracker was ugly, with a big fucking idiot grin, leaning toward the bars like they were the stage at some redneck titty bar.

“What you want?”

“Just wanted to say ‘Hi!’ Didn’t know if I’d ever get the chance again.”

He felt a slight twinge in his gut. “That so?”

“I just heard your boy Tree was laid up with a ventilated arm. Bet a lot of guys want to waste your ass, huh?”

“I meet my share of bitches.”

The guard chuckled. “That’s good, Diggs. Swing those balls around. Balls aren’t always enough, though. Maybe you’ll remember that when about ten guys are airholing you.”

“And when the fuck’s that gonna happen?”

“Oh, how should I know? I don’t hear shit around here.”

“Right. Sure you don’t.”

The guard gave him a goofy salute. “Honest! Scout’s honor!” The fuck glanced around before leaning in extra close. “Just between you and me, though, I might just miss your monkey ass.”

Diggs gave no reply, just glared as the guard giggled. The guy slapped both hands against the cell’s bars.

“Hey! A monkey in a cage! That’s some funny shit. See ya around, Diggs.”

He watched the guard walk away, and his hands fell still. He knew what he had to do.

***

Ribisi approached the bars of his cell casually. He didn’t give a damn if he kept Officer Morrow standing there in his cute little pressed uniform like some impatient junior cop. There were some people you hurried for, and some people you didn’t. The guard definitely fell into the latter category.

“Finished those deliveries, huh? Good boy, Officer.”

“Whatever,” Morrow said. The twist of anxiety in his voice didn’t escape the Sicilian’s notice.

The guard’s hand darted through the bars, several neatly folded bills between his fingers. Ribisi snatched the cash away and then shot Morrow a brief glare, letting him know he was being a careless, jumpy bastard.

“Want to calm down there?”

“Fuck that, Anton. Look, I’m gonna have to lay low for awhile.”

“I thought we’d already discussed this?”

“I know. I’m sorry, but shit’s getting crazy around here, okay?”

“What the fuck’s going on, Morrow?”

“I think I might have let a word slip.”

Ribisi felt the muscles of his shoulders and neck tense. “You might have what?”

“It wasn’t anything big, but I think I might have been a little too quick to speak up on something. Nothing major, just talking about how you keep your cool, don’t let anything show. Timms gave me a look.”

“He gave you a look?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus Christ, Morrow. You give a woman a look before she goes down on you, not when you think someone’s selling. Were you about to go down on Timms?”

“Fuck you, Anton.”

He jabbed his finger at Morrow. “I’ll ignore that comment this time, but don’t do it again.”

The guard didn’t turn away. He didn’t seem so frightened now. That was good. Ribisi wanted the man thinking straight when he laid the rest out for him.

“Now listen, Officer Morrow. If you drop clues that might get you busted, that’s your fault. It has nothing to do with me. I can cover myself. Can you say the same?”

No answer. If the man was thinking it over, it didn’t show on his face.

“Now, with the rest of my guys fenced in like this, I need you to pick up the slack.”

That got the man’s attention. “What?”

“You heard me. Sometimes you have to put in a little overtime in this line of work. Go see the regular guy for the pick-up, then get over to Unit A and make some deliveries.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Now, we both know I don’t do that.”

“They’re letting the cons out for meals. Your crew can move their product then. You don’t need me pulling double duty.”

“Like hell I don’t. We’re let out for short periods of time, they’re gonna have you and your boys looking extra hard for anything dirty. That means I need to look squeaky clean. Sorry, officer. You’re stuck with this one.”

“You want me to just waltz into Unit A and start slinging H around for you? I haven’t worked a shift over there in two years!”

“Like I said before, Officer, not my problem. You get pinched, it’s your ass.”

“They’ll want to know who I’m dealing for.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, Anton. That’s a fact.”

Ribisi stepped closer, lowered his voice. “You know what else is a fact, you stupid piece of shit? It’s a fact that you’re not the only person I have working on that side of the bars, so I can get a message out whenever I need. If you get pinched, I’ll send one of those messages out, and a car will be waiting right across the street from your house the second your wife and kids step out to be whisked away to protective custody. Or maybe the people in that car won’t wait that long. Maybe they’ll just grab your family and disappear for awhile, and if you’re still dumb enough to think about going through with anything, I can have you whisked away too, Officer Morrow. And maybe, if I’m feeling very nice, I’ll have my people dump all of your bodies in the same fucking ditch when they’re done just so you can be with your family again.”

He looked up into Morrow’s eyes. There was anger there, and hatred. But he saw fear, as well, and it almost made him smile. He knew he’d find it there, and he was happy to see Morrow kicked back into his place.

Anton took a step back, waiting for a response, but none came. Morrow just watched him, those emotions swirling in his eyes. The guard weaved a bit from side to side, and Ribisi thought it looked like he might pass out, but the sudden blaring of the chowtime horn startled the man back to his senses.

“Hey, Officer.”

“Yeah?” Morrow asked.

“How about you do your job and get these doors open so I can eat my fucking lunch?”

The guard walked away, and Ribisi waited for his cell door to slide open. He smiled, knowing he’d rattled the hack real good. It would be a good long while before he had to worry about Morrow stepping out of line.

Six

Sweeny circled the cafeteria like a dog sniffing for a rabbit. Hodge flanked him on one side, and another of his Brothers had the other. Other members of The Brotherhood, a few of them guards, watched from throughout the room. Every one of them had a shank ready and waiting, and every single one of them wanted to use it. Something this fucking great didn’t happen every day, and all of them itched to get in on the action.

The room seemed to hush when Diggs and the rest of his tribe strolled in. Sweeny took a look at the cocky attitude and wanted to cut it out of the jiggaboo. Maybe he’d get a chance, and maybe he wouldn’t. That was the genius of his plan.

***