First Degree Innocence Read online

  “Okay,” Carrie muttered, stretching her arms over her head and yawning. “See you in the morning.”

  As she drifted off to sleep, the piercing blue eyes of her mystery man crossed through her mind one more time. He was much better material for a romance novel, and certainly more interesting to think about than what Jillian Duke had planned. Carrie’s mind spun. Why was Jet so interested in her and what did the woman have up her sleeve?

  Chapter Seven

  Carrie choked down the last bite of breakfast. “Ugh, did you really have a hand in preparing this?” She held up a rubbery slice of bread, its edges soggy with juice that had escaped the small compartment of peaches on the tray. “I believe in crunchy toast.”

  Susanna glanced at her own food, picked up her limp bread and laughed. The sound bounced off the back cell wall and echoed into the vacant hallway. “I seem to have a matching piece. Kitchen help can only do so much with what they’re given. I get the distinct feeling that management doesn’t give a crap about our opinions on the meals. It’s not like we can run out for something else.” She tilted her head back and groaned. “What I wouldn’t give for a big ol’ hamburger with onions, pickles, lettuce and tomato.”

  “Add in a sesame seed bun and you have a commercial.” Carrie flashed a grin. “Besides, you’re making my mouth water. I swear the last burger served here was once someone’s shoe. And you’d think the kitchen manager could at least spring for more than a spoonful of condiments… and real lettuce instead of that stalky stuff.”

  “Romaine? Oh, they buy that because it’s probably cheaper at the moment. We sometimes get the good, crisp leafy lettuce, but not often.” She licked her lips and rolled her eyes. “Mmm, wouldn’t you just kill for a chef salad?”

  “Stop! You’re torturing me and it’s not nice. It’ll be a long time before I taste good cooking again.” The corners of Carrie’s mouth sagged into a frown.

  Scuffling across the cell in sock-clad feet, Susanna put her breakfast tray on the floor next to the door, then turned, a wistful look on her face. “I’d really like to get out of kitchen duty. Not that it matters, but I’ve never been very good at cooking. I enjoyed having breakfast with you for a change. I only got part of the day off because they’re breaking in some new help and decided to make those unfortunate souls handle the whole meal process from start to finish. I wish they’d decide they didn’t need me.”

  Carrie clucked her tongue against the back of her teeth. “That’ll only happen if they think you want to be there.” Funny how cynical she’d become in such a short time. She added her tray atop Susanna’s and leaned against the cell door, rubbing her hands together. “So, what do you wanna do now? Tennis? Swimming? Oh, how about a quick game of polo? I’ll ring the help and have them saddle the horses.”

  Susanna chuckled, reached for and threw her laundry bag, bouncing it off Carrie’s arm. “And you talk about me torturing you?” Her mood turned somber. “What am I going to do when they move you? You always make me laugh.”

  “I don’t really want to think about it right now.” Carrie turned and peered through the bars. She’d much rather stay right where she was, but unfortunately, she didn’t have a say in the matter. Nothing about prison was fair.

  Stretching crosswise on her bunk, her feet on the floor, Susanna’s fingers traced the lines in the wall’s cement blocks. “If only we could enjoy the lifestyle of the rich and famous. Instead, here we are, poor and infamous.” She raised her head and scrunched her face. “Well maybe that’s a little overstated. That would mean that someone actually knew we were here and cared.”

  Carrie felt a pang of sadness, knowing there was no one out there who gave a damn about her. She prepared to climb up on the top bunk when keys jingled in the lock and drew her attention to the door.

  * * * * *

  Ogden crossed the cell and stopped when her nose was only inches from Carrie’s. Tobacco stained the guard’s teeth and fouled her breath. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck about what you think. Is that clear?” Ogden roared.

  “Yes, perfectly.” Carrie nodded, tired of the confrontation. Her opinion carried no weight, she knew that, but it would have been stupid not to try one more time to convince her uniformed nemesis that she really had no desire to share a cell with Jillian Duke. Unfortunately, Carrie’s show of reluctance had done nothing more than provide satisfaction for Ogden’s ego and gave Carrie a tension headache. She massaged her furrowed brow.

  The corpulent guard opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. “Since we finally agree, you’ll gather up your things on Friday, and I’ll personally escort you to your new home. The gals on C block will be happy to see you.”

  Anger seethed like fire in Carrie’s veins. All the questions she wanted answers to hung on her tongue, but she swallowed them, knowing anything she said would be used against her. What kind of perverse pleasure was Ogden getting out of this?

  The door clanked shut and she departed without another word, leaving Carrie fuming.

  Susanna rolled to the mattress’ edge, leaving the shadows where she’d lurked. “Oh, I hate that woman.”

  Carrie released a long breath. “Not nearly as much as I do. She’s been in my face ever since I got here.”

  The urge to kick something overwhelmed her, but she shook her head and considered the consequences. Metal and toes didn’t mesh well.

  With a sigh, she leaned against the bars then sagged to the floor and hugged her knees against her chest. “I’m not going to let this get to me. That’s what Ogden wants. On Friday, I’ll be ready when she gets here. If I’m not smiling, poke me or something. I can’t let her see my vulnerable side. I’m going to be the most agreeable inmate she’s ever seen, and hopefully it’ll drive her crazy.”

  Susanna crawled off her bed, dropped her bottoms and sat on the commode. “I admire your courage, but I’d be a little more worried about what Jet has in store for you.”

  “Thanks for the reminder. It’s not like it hasn’t been weighing on my mind.”

  The flushing of the toilet somehow seemed like a perfect analogy for Carrie’s life. She chewed her bottom lip. “I wonder how much longer it is until rec time. I need some fresh air to help me think.”

  A flash of blue eyes invaded her thoughts. Maybe she’d catch a glimpse of them again.

  * * * * *

  Carrie walked through the exit to the outside rec area. The early June temperature kept most of the other inmates close to the air conditioning, and her friends huddled around a table inside, sharing the same old war stories. She had no desire to rehash the topic of her earlier meeting with Ogden. In truth, Carrie preferred to forget about it for now. There was no use stressing over the inevitable.

  She stepped off the sidewalk and onto the basketball court, but backed off, finding her shoes stuck to asphalt heated by the late afternoon sun. Following the pavement, she wove her way to her favorite spot, overlooking the garden. A dry wind blew past the end of the building and whipped her hair around her face. The air smelled of dust. With fingers entwined through the chain links, she stole a sideways glance at the place where she last saw the male guard.

  He wasn’t there; her spirit sagged. Why had she thought he would be? She was being nothing more than a silly schoolgirl, thinking he, of all people in the world, would have an interest in her. His job was to guard the inmates, hers was to be one. She blew out a long, exasperated breath, wishing she was anywhere else.

  “Hey, you.”

  Her gaze snapped around at the familiar voice. Those same haunting eyes stared through the fence at her.

  “Hi…hello… ah…” Her cheeks warmed at her inability to respond to a simple greeting, while her heart pounded out a new rhythm.

  “I wondered if you’d be here.” The timbre of his voice shivered through her. “I’ve checked a few times before, but you didn’t come back. I didn’t get your name when we last spoke.”

  “Carrie. My name is Carrie Lang.” She grimaced. Her answer s
ounded like a response to roll call.

  “Nice to meet you, Carrie Lang. I’m Seth Martin. You didn’t get into trouble last time, did you? For being late, I mean?” He hunkered down, leaning forward on one knee.

  Despite wearing a uniform reminiscent of her unpleasant encounters, his smile seemed genuine. She allowed herself to relax. “No. Thanks to you, I got back just in time. What made you want to save me?”

  “I wondered the same thing afterwards. You just looked like a lost little girl that needed some help.”

  That was it? She reminded him of a child who’d lost its mother? Her body stiffened. “Well thank you very much, but in the future, you can save your pity for someone else.” She turned, deciding which way to flee.

  “Wait. I didn’t mean to insult you. I was just trying to say it was uncharacteristic of me to even speak to a female inmate. I can get into just as much trouble as you for fraternization.”

  “Is that what this is?” She faced him, unable to get past his previous demeaning remark.

  He rolled his eyes. “Oh, now I’ve made you mad or hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to. Would I have stolen back out here to see you again if…”

  “If what?”

  One lid over an azure eye dropped into a lingering wink. “If I didn’t like you.” He swiped at his forehead, pushing back a lock of dark hair. “Oh, brother, that sounds stupid. I don’t even know you.”

  “It didn’t sound stupid. I think I understand exactly how you feel. I’ve been thinking…” She heard voices from somewhere.

  “I probably need to have my head examined for being here.” He lowered his voice and glanced nervously over his shoulder. “I can’t stay. I have to get back to my duties, but I’ll try to see you again. I’m off tomorrow, but maybe the day after.”

  “I’ll be here.” Carrie swallowed her excitement and tried to sound casual.

  He walked away, leaving her to admire how his navy blue pants clung to a shapely backside. His well-muscled legs crossed the men’s rec yard in long strides. He turned for a brief moment and waved before going inside.

  Her heart fluttered and she finally exhaled. What had come over her? She’d never lusted after a man before.

  “Carrie, what’re you doing over there?” Susanna’s voice sounded from behind and made Carrie’s heart leap into her throat.

  She swallowed hard and patted her pounding heart, then turned. “Just getting a breath of fresh air and enjoying the scenery.” If only her cellmate knew how much she had enjoyed the view she’d just seen.

  “Wanna come in and play a few hands of bridge?”

  “Sure.” A smile spread across Carrie’s face that had nothing to do with cards. “If I didn’t like you,” she repeated beneath her breath, as she crossed the compound. Hope blossomed inside her.

  Once inside, her thoughts filled with the day after tomorrow as she shivered under a blast of air conditioning against her heated skin. She imagined Seth’s arms holding her until she warmed, knowing it was nothing more than a ridiculous dream. At least no one could confiscate it from her.

  She pulled out a chair across from Susanna and sat. Taking the cards already dealt, she fanned them out in her hand.

  Susanna eyed her with a questioning tilt to her head. “What happened to you? You have a certain glow going on.”

  Carrie concentrated on her cards. “Just the sun, I imagine.”

  “I don’t think so. C’mon girl, give it up.”

  Carrie pretended to be surprised. “I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about, do you Di?” Carrie smiled to the woman on her left. She glanced to the right, folding her cards together. “How about you, Ruthie, do you think I’m glowing?”

  “Are we gonna discuss suntans or are we gonna play?” Ruthie asked, her fingertips drumming on the table.

  “We’re going to play.” Carrie splayed her cards back into a fan. “I’ll bid two clubs.”

  They’d only finished the second deal when Carrie felt a tap on her shoulder. “How’s it going?”

  She craned her neck upward at Jet. “Just fine, thanks. I’d ask you to play but we already have a foursome.”

  “That’s okay. I’ve never been one for playing games.”

  Carrie fought to keep from busting into guffaws. That was the biggest lie she’d ever heard. Not one for playing games? Card games maybe, but Jet certainly knew all about head games. But Carrie kept her comments to herself. There was no use getting off on a bad foot with a new cellmate. “Pity, bridge is a fun game except when you’re the dummy.” She just couldn’t resist an attempt at sarcasm, but Jet remained unfazed.

  “Well, girls, I guess you heard the news.” She addressed the three at the table with Carrie, then glanced at Franny, Helen and Celia, watching from an adjacent bench. They all stared at her with wide eyes.

  “What news?” Ruthie’s tongue habitually poked through the space where a tooth was missing. She looked at Jet with a raised brow.

  “Lang’s coming to C Block on Friday. She’s gonna be my new cellie.”

  “How’d that happen?” Franny asked, the tenseness in her jaw stretching her pocked skin.

  Jet buffed her nails against her chest. “I called in a favor. My bunkmate is being transferred to another state, so I thought Lang might be a nice replacement.”

  “Why Carrie?” Susanna’s brow furrowed. “You know she gets along fine with me.”

  “If I don’t pick my roommate, I have to take who they give me. It’s nothing personal. I just thought I might be compatible with Lang. Don’t get all bent out of shape over it.”

  Susanna’s lips stretched into a thin line and she stared at her cards. The conversation made Carrie jittery.

  Her gaze bounced from each of her friends. “It’s not so bad.” She searched their faces. “We’ll still share the same recreation time and be able to hang out. I’ll just be sleeping in a different bunk, that’s all.”

  “See, girls, even Lang isn’t upset about the move.” Jet patted Carrie on the shoulder. “See you on Friday, roomie. I’ve got to get some fresh air before it’s time to go back up.”

  Jet had barely walked away when Susanna slapped her cards down on the table. “Ohhhh, that woman! She could have picked anyone else in this whole place, but she wants to make my life miserable and she’s doing it through you, Carrie. She knows I enjoy having you in my cell, and she’s bound to change that. I just can’t figure out what she has to gain.”

  “What makes you think it’s about you?” Carrie asked. Susanna’s suspicions came as a surprise.

  “It’s a whole bunch of little things. Nothing I can really put my finger on, but I truly believe she’s the one who got me assigned to the kitchen. I do know for a fact that right after I got here, she set me up by planting a shiv in my cell.”

  “What’s that?” Carrie had never heard the term.

  “A homemade knife. This one was a toothbrush that someone had sharpened to a fine point and wrapped with string. It was definitely designed with two goals in mind, oral hygiene and bodily harm.”

  “So what happened?”

  “LOP.”

  “And that’s…”

  “Loss of privileges. I was denied rec for a month.”

  “I guess it could have been worse.” Carrie patted her friend’s hand. “But how do you know it was Jet?”

  Susanna’s gaze fell. “I guess I don’t know for sure, but I can’t think of anyone else.”

  “Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t spread your allegations around. I’m not Jet’s biggest fan, but I really think people should have irrefutable evidence before they make accusations. If that was the case, I wouldn’t even be here in the middle of this mess.” Carrie’s words did little to calm the edginess tingling through her. Being Jet’s cellmate held no appeal, whatsoever.

  Chapter Eight

  Carrie woke to the cell door clanking shut. She rolled to the edge of her bunk and peeked over. As suspected, Susanna was gone. She’d left for breakfast du
ty.

  Remembering it was Friday, Carrie grimaced and buried her face in the crook of her arm. Ogden’s ugly face was due any time now, and she’d expect Carrie to be ready to go. She clambered down and tiptoed across the icy floor to the toilet, longing for something as simple as a throw rug. Sitting on stainless steel scattered goose bumps across her arms. She braced herself against the chill and waited for the never-ending urine stream to cease. Finally, she patted herself dry, perturbed at the tissue’s roughness. It didn’t even measure up to the cheap one-ply she used at home. The prison brand was just a step up from splinters. But it made sense. Why waste comfort and frills on inmates?

  She stood and flushed, watching the swirling water weave its way down the bowl. For a moment she envied all those dead goldfish she and her mother had launched into eternity via the sewer. Wherever those dead pets ended up had to be better than this dump.

  After brushing her teeth, Carrie pulled a change of clothing from her laundry bag. Like the rest of the gals, she’d taken to calling her wardrobe “orange peels” for obvious reasons. The color had never been her favorite crayon, and now it never would be. She glanced in the distorted mirror over the sink and frowned at how the fruity hue of the top drained any trace of color from her cheeks.

  Once fully dressed, she stood on the bottom rail, dissembled her bed, and wrapped all her belongings inside her sheet. She’d planned on taking a shower, but that could wait. There was no need to smell sweet and clean just to remake a bunk, and, of course, she’d rank the upper again. Being on the top one had lost its childhood appeal, but at least she’d learned to sleep without fear of rolling off.

  She perched on the bottom bunk, waiting for Ogden to escort her to Jet’s cell. Mimicking a bobble head doll she’d once seen in a novelty shop, she rehearsed the feigned smile and agreeable nod she planned to use for the guard’s benefit. Inside Carrie’s blood edged on boiling.