Murder to Go

by Brenda Donelan

  Marlee handed Marcus three folders which laid on the dash of her vehicle. They contained background information on the students she did not know. All three came from the University of South Dakota in Vermillion and were majoring in criminal justice there. Marlee’s files did not contain any sensitive information on the trio, so she felt comfortable in sharing it with Marcus.

  As they drove, Marcus read from the files. “Bart Lamont, age twenty-three, in the National Guard, a brief tour in Iraq with the Army, which ended after a few weeks due to unspecified reasons. He’s in his second year at USD. Uh, he’s the one that had the wardrobe problem.” Marlee nodded, and Marcus continued. “I don’t know for sure, but I think he’s dating Katie Daniels, the dark haired girl who sat next to him this morning. She’s twenty-one and in the National Guard, but there’s no military service overseas. She’s double majoring in criminal justice and psychology. Becca Troutman is the third student from USD. She’s twenty and in her third year there, although she just recently changed her major from chemistry to criminal justice.”

  “Thanks for reading through the files. I’ve had them for a while now, but never got around to familiarizing myself with their backgrounds. The other seven students are all from MSU and I know most of them fairly well. Donnie Stacks, Dominic Schmidt, and Jasper Evans I know really well. They’re all good kids and we won’t have any trouble from any of them. Of the other four students, there are Paula Stone and Violet Stone, who are sisters. They’re the ones with the light brown curly hair and they’re laughing and smiling most of the time. They’re both a lot of fun and will probably be the ones who keep the morale up on the trip.”

  “Yeah, I know them. We had some classes together and I worked on a group project with Paula for a class,” Marcus recalled.

  “Johnny Marble is a really good friend of theirs from their home town. I know him fairly well, as he’s been in my classes. He doesn’t talk much, but seems like an okay kid,” Marlee stated.

  “Yeah, I was in a couple classes with him but he never really talked in them either. I don’t know much about him.”

  “And finally, we have our one non-traditional student, Roxie Harper. I know her from being in one of my classes, but I don’t really know much about her,” Marlee said.

  “I don’t know anything about her. We had a couple classes together, but I never talked to her even though we were both CJ majors,” Marcus said.

  “Sometimes non-trad students in this class are a stabilizing influence. They can be sort of like a surrogate mother to the younger students and help keep the drama to a minimum. On the other hand, sometimes they can be the worst behaved of anyone on the trip.” Marlee knew this from the first year she taught Criminal Justice To Go. A straight-A-earning non-trad took Marlee’s class and managed to piss off all of the students, Marlee, and the student assistant before they were even halfway through the trip. She was a control freak and wanted to be in charge of the class. Marlee had to assert her authority with the troublesome non-trad more than once during the class, to the delight of the other students.

  “Besides us, we have four cars of students; the USD students are all riding together; the Stone sisters and Johnny Marble are riding together; Dom, Jasper, and Donnie are riding together, and Roxie is driving herself. Those are also the same room arrangements. Roxie wanted to drive alone and room alone,” Marlee said. “Nothing wrong with that. She must just like her space. Plus, she’s probably afraid rooming with the younger students would be like living in a frat house. I don’t blame her for carving out her own space on this trip. A week is a long time to be stuck with roommates you don’t know.”

  “Yeah, I’ve had some bad roommate situations over the years,” the assistant said. Marlee nodded and the two commiserated over the seemingly normal people they roomed with who, over the course of one semester, turned into complete psychopaths.

  After a short lunch stop at McDonald’s, Marlee and Marcus drove four miles out into the countryside to the juvenile treatment facilities. The Home Away From Home program comprised two large, unattached buildings. Both had rooms for sleeping, dining, and general recreation and meetings. A third large building contained the on-site school, which was divided into several classrooms. Attached to the school was a full sized gymnasium with a basketball court, weight lifting room, and area for treadmills and other exercise machines.

  There were two treatment programs at Home Away From Home; one was for kids who were chemically dependent and the other treated juveniles with sexual adjustment issues. Many of the kids had both problems and once they finished with one program, they moved to the other.

  Prior to entering the buildings, Marlee noted that Bart Lamont had changed out of his pornographic yellow t-shirt and into a red button down shirt without logos. The tour went as planned and ended a few minutes ahead of schedule. Gathering in the parking lot by their cars, the students were anxious to process what they had learned. Most of them were shocked by the offenses and unacceptable behavior engaged in by the kids in the sexual adjustment program.

  “Dr. M., I had no idea things like this happened around here. And with such young kids,” Jasper Evans said. “What makes a kid sexually abuse other kids or animals?”

  “This happens everywhere all the time, Jasper. Some of the kids we saw today are not just perpetrators, but victims themselves. Somebody else, maybe a parent, older sibling, or family friend, sexually abused or exploited them and now they’ve done the same to another child.”

  “I couldn’t believe the level of violence the kids carried out against other kids,” Donnie Stacks said.

  “Some of the kids aren’t violent at all, while others will do whatever it takes to get their sexual desires met. That’s why the bedrooms and bathrooms are monitored. If left alone for any length of time, some of the kids will coerce other kids into having sex. The counselors and staff here really have to be on their toes to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Marlee had been to the Home Away From Home programs several times before, mostly when she worked as a probation officer and placed kids there with sexual adjustment or chemical dependency issues. She had several stories she could tell about these juvenile sex offenders, but knew it would do little good other than to scare the students out of the criminal justice field.

  “Let’s go. We’ve got a couple hours to get to our next tour,” Marlee advised as she and Marcus got into her SUV.

  When Marlee and her student assistant arrived at the Women’s Prison in Pierre two hours later, all of the students were present in the parking lot. Marlee did a quick reminder that everyone needed to leave everything in their cars except for some form of identification and a pen and notebook. Cell phones, tobacco, knives, and any other type of contraband had to be left behind in the cars. “Attempting to smuggle in anything for whatever reason can get you charged in court and possibly a prison sentence, so be sure not to take anything inside other than your driver’s license and something to take notes on.” To speed up the process, Marlee collected all of the driver’s licenses.

  The students, following Marlee and Marcus, proceeded inside the front door of the prison and stood in an entryway while Marlee stated their reason for the visit and provided the stack of driver’s licenses to the humorless uniformed woman behind the plexiglass enclosed desk. She looked at each license individually and then called out the person’s name. When they stepped to the glass front desk she peered out at them to see that the photo matched the person who stood before her. Fifteen minutes passed by the time everyone had successfully passed the initial inspection and were allowed through the locked door into the prison.

  Once inside, the group was led to a dark, windowless room which contained a magnetometer; the device used to screen individuals to ensure they were not bringing in contraband or carrying weapons. Donnie Stacks was the first student in line and passed through the screening system without incident. “This is just like the machine at the airport,” Donnie proclaimed to the students in line behind her.

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nbsp; “Oh, no. I didn’t know we’d have to go through one of these,” whispered Becca to Katie. She gently tapped Marlee on the shoulder and said, “Does this detect all metal?”

  “Most of it. Why? What do you have on you that you’re worried about?” Marlee was becoming agitated. She’d clearly stated that everything had to be left in the cars and now Becca was carrying some sort of metal.

  “Well,” Becca said, somewhat self-consciously, “there’s a metal chain that goes around the waist band of my underwear.”

  Marlee was dumbfounded. Not only did she not know what to say to this comment, but she had no idea where someone would even buy underwear with a metal chain. “Uh, I guess you’ll just have to go through the magnetometer and see what happens. If it detects metal then you’ll have to tell the guard what it is.”

  “Well, I don’t want to have to take off my underwear!” Becca was indignant.

  “Why did you choose to wear metal underwear on a tour through prisons?” Marlee shot back.

  “I don’t know. I guess I thought it would be bad ass,” Becca said. “Um, what about nipple rings? Can the detector sense them too? I just got my nipples pierced last week.”

  Marlee rolled her eyes. “Get in line and if it the detector goes off then tell the guard the scoop. It’s up to the prison officials what they will want you to do with all your metal.” It was only the first day and there were already two wardrobe issues. Policing student fashion choices was not what Marlee signed on for when she agreed to lead this class.

  The stars aligned in Becca’s favor, as the magnetometer sensed neither her metal underwear band nor her nipple rings. Marlee was not as fortunate. When the under wires in her bra set off the magnetometer, Marlee had to pull the guard aside and explain the issue. The guard insisted that Marlee be further screened and he ran a hand-held device all around her body. When the beeping started around her chest area, the guard loudly proclaimed the metal sensing devices were indeed picking up the under wires in her bra rather than knives, guns, or other contraband. The only good thing about a sunburn is that it conceals intense blushing.

  Without any further ado, the group processed through the detector and was brought to the visitation room where the women prisoners met with their family and friends. The room was well-lit with windows allowing a southern exposure. The tables and chairs were hard plastic, reminiscent of middle school classrooms across America. There were also child-sized chairs and tables in a corner of the room. Stuffed animals, story books, and cartoon paintings on the wall were clustered into the small corner area. Most of the women at the prison had children, many of them very young kids. One of the goals of the prison was to maintain a connection between mothers and their children, so accommodations were made to allow the moms to play with the children.

  After a welcome and introduction to the goals of the prison, Deputy Warden Liza McCall introduced Major Tim Borden, a high-ranking correctional officer who would be showing them around the institution.

  “To get started,” Major Borden said with military precision, “I will lead you on a tour through all security levels of the prison. Since there’s only one prison for women in South Dakota, all women receiving a sentence of incarceration are sent here. We have women serving life sentences and women who will be released this week. There are murderers, rapists, drug dealers, thieves, embezzlers, and others involved in any type crime you can imagine. These women are mothers, daughters, wives, friends, neighbors, co-workers, and most of all; manipulators. Nobody does anything in prison unless they see some potential gain for themselves. Do not give anything to the prisoners or take anything from them. Sometimes they will attempt to get a note outside to someone and will use a sympathetic visitor to do it.”

  After taking a deep breath and assessing that the students were paying attention, Major Borden said, “After the tour you’ll be taken to the chow hall for supper. The first group of inmates eats at 5:00 pm and other groups follow. Don’t talk to anyone at supper either. After supper we have an inmate panel discussion. A few women have agreed to talk to this class about themselves, their crimes, and what they hope to do when released. You are free to ask questions to the women on the inmate panel after they have each finished their presentations.”

  Major Borden marched toward a locked door with Marlee and the students following. After unlocking the door, the major stood back and did a head count as everyone passed through the door. He explained as he did this that there would be many times today they would be counted to ensure no one wandered off or was left behind. The women’s prison consisted of four security levels; high, medium, low, and work release. Security level was determined by the offense committed, the individual’s propensity toward violence, the length of the sentence, and behavior while in prison. One could be moved to higher or lower security in the prison based on accomplishments and rule infractions.

  The tours of the differing security areas were of interest and students asked a variety of questions. What yielded the most interest was the house separate from the prison which was used for mothers and children to spend weekends together. The house was furnished like a normal home with a television, DVD player, a variety of G-rated movies, books, and toys. One inmate had access to the house for a given weekend and it was a privilege that had to be earned. She could keep her children in the house, cook meals for them, and act as an intact family; at least for a weekend. The children’s rooms were painted with cartoon characters, a service provided by an artistically gifted inmate.

  “Why would a mother want her children to see her in prison?” asked Dom.

  “This house is meant to look as little like a prison as possible. We want families to maintain contact while the mother is in prison and this is one step toward keeping that family bond intact. For some women, this is all they have to look forward to. It’s an incentive to maintain good behavior and work toward bettering themselves,” said Major Borden.

  “Do they have a house like this at the men’s prison?” Jasper asked.

  “No, they don’t. Almost all of the women in here are mothers and most were the primary parent for their children. Although many of the men in prison are also fathers, they were not the parent who provided most of the care for the children. Some don’t have any involvement in their kids’ lives at all,” said the major.

  Following the tour, the group made their way to the dining area. They lined up and went through the line with the rest of the inmates. Spaghetti and meatballs were on the menu that night, along with mushy green beans and a slice of yeasty-tasting homemade bread. As Marlee and the students walked by tables filled with inmates, one was overheard grumbling to another, “look, they got five meatballs. We only get three. They’re trying to make it look good for the people who come here to visit.” As Marlee glanced around the dining hall, she noticed that the women who had not yet started eating did indeed only have three meatballs while she and the students all had five.

  The meal was bland, but Marlee didn’t have the students dine at the prison because of the food quality. It was for them to understand the prison dynamics. Students could see that seating designated status, just like in high school. The dominant group sat with others in their clique at the center of the chow hall, while other inmates with less power were relegated to other seating areas on the far end of the dining room.

  Nearly everyone working in the kitchen was an inmate and it was a trusted status. It was possible to sneak out food from the kitchen to their cells to eat later. Sometimes inmates took utensils and other items that could be used as weapons. Even if the inmate did not intend to use the weapon, she could trade it for something else she wanted.

  Students were herded back into the visitation room where they had their orientation at the start of the tour. Now a long table with four chairs all on one side was pulled to the front of the room. As soon as everyone from Criminal Justice To Go was seated, the major used his walkie-talkie to summon a correctional officer. A door opened and in filed four women dressed
in various colors of cotton tops and bottoms, similar to the smock type uniforms worn by nurses. Major Borden had explained earlier that tan meant low security, red meant high security, blue stood for medium security, orange signified those who were on work release in the Pierre area, and green indicated that the woman was pregnant, regardless of her security level.

  The women sat down and the major introduced each of them starting from the left side of the table. “Arlys here in the blue is serving a ten year sentence for drugs. Echo in the red is doing a life sentence for murder. In the tan is Stephanie and she’s serving two years for grand theft. And finally, Luverne is in orange and is serving twenty years for voluntary manslaughter. She’s up for parole next week.”

  Marlee raised her hand. “Before we get started, I’d want to ask the women if it was their choice to talk to us.” Each of the women on the panel nodded and a chorus of “yeah” was heard.

  “Arlys, you can start now,” advised Major Borden.

  “Hi, everybody. I’m Arlys,” said the large white woman with a long, straggly gray pony tail. She had a haggard appearance and looked to be in her early fifties. “To answer your question,” she said with a nod toward Marlee, “a lot of us want to talk to people from outside the prison. It’s the only time some of us ever get to talk to someone who isn’t a prisoner or a guard.” Marlee gave Arlys a quick smile, glad that the students now knew the inmates were not being forced to participate.

  With a nod back at Marlee, Arlys continued, “I’m serving a ten year sentence for drugs. I was always a good kid, but got involved with a drug dealer and he got me started using drugs. He’s in the men’s prison now doing fifteen years. We were dealing marijuana, heroin, meth, you name it. I was using too. He wasn’t using, just dealing. I think I started abusing drugs because he was beating me up. I couldn’t leave him. I didn’t have anyone else or anywhere to go. My parents are dead and my sisters gave up on me years ago. I don’t have any kids or anyone else to turn to. Drugs became my escape.” Arlys continued to tell her story to the students including her plans upon release.