Six John Jordan Mysteries

by Michael Lister

  We reached the front gate and the security check that awaited us in the visiting park of the security building at the same time Keli did. Instead of speaking in her normal, friendly, loud, try-a-little-too-hard voice, she didn’t speak, and when I spoke, her reply was the barely audible grunt of a distracted person.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She gave me a quick nod. “I’m fine.”

  “Told you,” Merrill whispered to Anna.

  Keli had said it in such a way as to discourage further discussion, but I didn’t let that stop me.

  “You sure?” I asked. “You seem—”

  “I’m fine.”

  “How about Kayla?”

  Kayla was the thirteen-year-old daughter she was raising by herself.

  “She’s fine,” she said. “Everything’s fine.”

  Because of the steady flow of contraband into the institution, we started each workday with a pat-down. Herded like cattle into the sally port, through the security building, and into the visiting park, we placed our belongings on long folding tables, behind which were correctional officers who went through them. We were then taken into the restrooms—the men into theirs, where male officers waited, the women into theirs, where female officers waited—took off our shoes, our bodies then traced with a metal detector wand and an officer’s hands.

  You’d think all of this would prevent contraband from being introduced into the prison, but it didn’t even slow it down. Part of the problem was how inconsistently and casually the searches were performed. Three shifts a day entered and exited the institution. These types of security measures would only work if applied to every shift, every day. They weren’t, and most volunteers and contractors were never searched. The other problematic part of the equation was that the searches were performed by friends and coworkers, who already felt awkward and ambivalent about what they were doing.

  After being searched, Keli hurried out of the visiting park without speaking to everyone she passed as she normally did.

  Adjusting his uniform, Merrill walked up beside me. “No better way to start the day than gettin’ felt up by a cracker-ass redneck motherfucker,” he said.

  In another moment, Anna rejoined us and we began walking down the compound.

  “How is she?” Anna asked.

  “Fine,” I said. “Everything’s fine.”

  “Told you,” Merrill said.

  “Something’s wrong,” I said. “How about you two help me keep an eye on her?”

  “Sho,” Merrill said. “Gots nothin’ else to do ’round here, boss.”

  “If we do, won’t we be enabling your obsession?” Anna asked.

  “Look at it as keeping me from drinking,” I said.

  My morning went as it usually did, filled mostly with the crisis counseling of inmates, their families via phone, and a few staff members. I had even managed a little time to reflect on what Merrill and Anna had said about me obsessing, because I was bored. I knew there was truth in what they said, but I also knew that awareness and observation, being mindful and meditative, were the keys to enlightenment—in life as well as detection. And since I didn’t want to obsess about obsessing, I didn’t do it for long.

  I had wanted to check on Keli, but it was nearly time for lunch and I had yet to have the opportunity.

  As the last of the inmates were leaving the chapel to return to the compound for count, followed by chow, the phone on my desk rang. I picked it up.

  “Good morning, Chaplain Jordan,” I said.

  “What’re you doing for lunch?” Anna asked.

  “I’m open to suggestions,” I said.

  She laughed again. “How’s Rudy’s sound?”

  “Not very good, but about our only option,” I said.

  “Oh, I asked around a little about Keli,” she said.

  “And?”

  “Girl’s just as much a saint here as everywhere else,” she said. “Patient with the inmates, even kind.”

  “I knew that.”

  “Until today.”

  “Told you.”

  “So she’s having a bad day,” she said. “She’s probably on her period.”

  “I realize I’m a guy,” I said, “but—”

  “And a celibate,” she added.

  “Not by choice,” I said, “and it’s a temporary condition.”

  “Okay, okay,” she said. “Do you remember what you were saying or is your sexual frustration finally getting the best of you?”

  “I know enough to know that she probably has a period about every twenty-eight days—and probably has since she was fourteen. Why is it just now turning her into Mrs. Hyde?”

  “You know, if you put as much obsessive energy into dealing with your forced celibacy as you do little things like this, you might actually be able to renounce this vow you say you haven’t taken.”

  “Is that what you really want?”

  “Like I was saying, something is obviously very wrong with Keli, and you need to spend every waking moment trying to figure out what it is. How can I help?”

  “Where is she posted right now?” I asked.

  “She’s over outside grounds,” she said.

  “Thanks.”

  “So how about lunch?”

  “Sure,” I said. “I’ll see if Keli can join us.”

  “You go from celibate straight to threesome.”

  “I’m freaky like that,” I said. “It’s part of my addictive personality.”

  As Anna and I were hanging up, Merrill walked in and took a seat in one of the two chairs in front of my desk.

  “Word on the pound is Keli’s catching for the other side.”

  “Lesbian?”

  He shook his head. “Only two sides in here,” he said. “Brown and blue.”

  I nodded, and thought about it. If Keli were involved with an inmate, it would explain a lot.

  “Say she hooked up with Josh Miles.”

  “Inmate who washes cars?”

  “Four-one-one is her car ain’t the only thing he hosin’.”

  I smiled.

  The number of female officers who get involved with inmates is staggering, especially since they are warned from day one of training and orientation about how smooth and persuasive so many of them can be. After all, they don’t call them cons for nothing. It’s an epidemic, but one to be expected with the sheer number of hours they spend together in this cauldron of desperation. No one is immune, but vulnerable, lonely women are especially easy prey for the predators who have spent a lifetime perfecting the hunt.

  “He assigned to outside grounds?” I asked.

  He nodded. “And the control room. Why?”

  “She works outside grounds.”

  “So there may be somethin’ to it,” he said.

  “Or not,” I said. “You know how reliable the vine on the pound is.”

  “Say it is,” he said. “She upset because of the guilt or because he broke it off or he whitemailing her?”

  “Let’s go ask him.”

  “What you mean we, white boy?” he said. “Some of us gots jobs and shit to do.”

  Working in the exciting and expanding field of corrections doesn’t just provide a member of a rural community job security with great benefits and state retirement, but also the opportunity to have an inmate wash their car, as well. For just six bucks (or nine with a wax job), an employee of PCI can purchase a ticket at the canteen and have his or her car washed while they work.

  Small wooden stakes holding square white boards with CW and the numbers 1 through 9 carved into them stood in the ground before nine spaces in the front right corner of the employee parking lot. Keli’s car was in CW9, and I found Josh Miles buffing the last of the wax off it.

  Keli’s old champagne-colored Honda, dented and scratched though it was, actually looked a lot better than it had this morning.

  “You work miracles,” I said.

  “Hey, Chaplain,” he said.

  The inside of Keli’
s cluttered car looked even worse than usual now that the outside was gleaming in the midday sun. In among all the half-consumed Sprite and Dr Pepper bottles, old newspapers, fast food bags, and wrinkled clothes, I saw Kayla’s schoolbooks and gym bag, and Keli’s Bible and Sunday school book.

  “I may have to let you do that to my truck,” I said. “I always thought it wouldn’t do any good, but after seeing what you did with this one ...”

  He looked up and across the lot.

  Josh Miles was thick and square with blond hair and blue eyes. If I had to guess, I’d say he had German ancestry. He was soft-spoken and serene, hardworking.

  “It’s not here today,” I said. “It wouldn’t start this morning.”

  “Is it that old white Chevy S-10 I’ve seen you in?”

  I nodded.

  “I’m good,” he said, “but not that good.”

  “Really?”

  “Man’s got to know his limitations,” he said with a smile.

  “I respect that,” I said. “Still, you did an amazing job with Sergeant Linton’s.”

  He nodded as he walked over to the cart that held the brown plastic crates filled with his cleaning supplies.

  “Looks like it took some time,” I said.

  Pulling out various crates, he returned his sponges, rags, soap, and wax to their containers. “I can usually do three to four cars before lunch,” he said. “Today, this one took the entire time.”

  “Sounds like she owes you a big tip,” I said.

  “No, sir,” he said. “’Course not.”

  “What did she do to earn such special treatment?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I just wanted to do it for her. She’s so nice. One of the few kind officers around here. Plus, she’s my boss.”

  “There’s a rumor going around that she’s more than that,” I said.

  He shook his head. “It’s not true,” he said. “I swear. I’m married. Got kids. I’m about to get out. I would never—I swear. It’s just talk. There’s nothing to it.”

  If he were lying, he was good at it.

  “How long you got?”

  “Little less than a year if I get all my gain time.”

  I nodded.

  Something caught his eye, and I turned to see Keli walking toward us. Average height and heavy, Keli carried most of her excess weight in the lower half of her body. Whatever was wrong with her accentuated her bulk because of the labored way it made her move.

  “Miles, you ready?” she asked. “It’s time for lunch.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and looked over at her car.

  She followed his gaze and her face fell. “What did you do?”

  “Detailed it for you,” he said. “It turned out—”

  “I told you to do it last,” she said.

  “I know, but—”

  “I even parked in the last spot,” she said. “Look at all these other trucks and cars.”

  Most of the spaces were filled.

  “Why didn’t you do them in order?”

  “I just wanted to do yours first so I’d know how much time I had left for all the rest.”

  “You’re gonna have to do mine again,” she said.

  I looked over at her in shock.

  “This afternoon,” she said. “Last one of the day, just like I told you.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  “Okay,” she said. “Report to the center gate. It’s time for lunch.”

  She started to walk away after he left, but I stopped her.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “What was all that about?”

  “Sometimes because I’m nice, an inmate won’t do what I tell him to,” she said. “I’m sick of it. He’ll think before he disobeys me again.”

  “I’m worried about you,” I said. “Let’s go get something to eat and talk.”

  “Can’t,” she said. “But I told you, I’m fine.”

  “Is Miles doing anything to bother you?”

  She shook her head.

  “No manipulation?” I asked. “No blackmail?”

  She had been avoiding my gaze, but now she looked at me directly, anger and the hint of tears in her eyes. “What would he have to blackmail me with, John?” she asked. “You think I’m involved with him?”

  “Are you?”

  “No,” she said. “I’m not.”

  We were silent a moment.

  “John, you know that place where well-intentioned concern becomes unwelcome meddling?”

  I smiled. “We there yet?”

  She shook her head. “We flew past it several miles back.”

  I laughed.

  She almost smiled.

  “Why don’t I have him reassigned?” I said. “Or transferred. He could be gone by the time you got back from lunch.”

  “Did you not hear what I just said?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Whatever you do, don’t do that. Not today. Okay? Promise me.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t care what you do tomorrow.”

  I didn’t say anything, just wondered what was so urgent about today.

  “Have I ever asked you for anything, John?” she said. “Anything? Please promise me you’ll do this one thing for me.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  “Why do you think she didn’t want him transferred today in particular?” Anna asked.

  We were in her car, but I was driving, headed toward Rudy’s Diner for lunch. Unlike my vehicle, Anna’s was spotless and smelled like floral air freshener and her perfume. It was also new and handled much better than mine, and I was driving a little faster than I should.

  “I’m trying not to think about it,” I said.

  “Because it means she’s up to something,” she said.

  I nodded.

  “And whatever it is, she’s gonna do it today.”

  “Most obvious would be an escape,” she said.

  I nodded again. “But to be working outside the fence, means he’s short. Why run if you don’t have much time left?”

  “Why do they do half the shit they do?” she asked.

  “Why do any of us?” I said. “But he seems very smart and committed to his family.”

  “You think she’s involved with him?”

  As I drove, I stole glances at Anna. She was never more beautiful to me than when she was concentrating and questioning, and the force of her intelligence shone through her bottomless brown eyes.

  “It’d make the most sense, but I don’t think so.”

  When we got into town, instead of staying straight, I took at left on River Road.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I need to swing by the middle school,” I said.

  “Oh, throw you in the briar patch,” she said.

  Pottersville Middle School was generally acknowledged to have the sexiest school secretary in the state.

  “Why exactly you doin’ a drive-by of PMS?” she asked. “As if I don’t know.”

  “Thought I’d ask Kayla why her mom’s acting so strangely today.”

  “A, they’re not going to let you talk to her,” she said. “And B, I thought you promised Keli you wouldn’t do anything today.”

  I pulled up in front of the school office, placed the car in Park, and left it running.

  “I promised her I wouldn’t have Josh Miles transferred today,” I said. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t do anything.”

  “You think that’s the way she understood it?”

  I jumped out of the car without answering her question, walked into the office, and within just a few moments, walked right back out again.

  When I got into the car, Anna said, “Told you they wouldn’t let you talk to her.”

  “Clearly you underestimate my way with sexy school secretaries,” I said.

  “So they did let you talk to her?” />
  “They would have if she had come to school today,” I said.

  “So that explains it,” she said.

  “My way with sexy school secretaries?”

  “Keli’s just a stressed-out single mom with a sick kid,” she said.

  “That’s not exactly how I interpreted it,” I said.

  “Somehow I knew it wouldn’t be.”

  Because of my little detour, Anna and I were late eating and late getting back to the prison. Count had already cleared, the yard was open, inmates back at work. Josh Miles was busy washing the small truck in the CW1 space.

  When we got out of Anna’s car, she quickly headed for the main gate, but I started in Josh’s direction.

  “You really gotta get a girlfriend,” she said.

  “Until then, let me find diversion where I can,” I said.

  “Have at it,” she said. “Call me if you need backup, and thanks again for lunch.”

  I stood and watched Anna walk away for a moment, enjoying the confident and unconsciously sexy way she moved. A volleyball player in high school and college, Anna’s natural athleticism was aging well. Eventually, I walked over and joined Josh near the truck he was washing.

  “You gonna be able to finish all these before you have to return to the compound?” I asked.

  “It’s not gonna be my best work, but I can do it.”

  I glanced down at Keli’s car, which was still spotless, its polished surface gleaming in the early afternoon sun. It had been a mild winter, even by North Florida standards, and the sun was bright, the warm day more like spring or early summer than February.

  “What’re you gonna do to Sergeant Linton’s car?”

  “Do it again,” he said. “Do whatever my supervisor tells me.”

  “You didn’t this morning,” I said.

  “I didn’t realize doing hers last was so important.”

  I walked down past the other cars to get a better look at Keli’s, thinking maybe she had gotten it dirty on the other side, but the far side was just as spotless as the side that had been visible to me.

  I started to walk away when something inside the car caught my eye. It hadn’t been there just a few hours earlier, and it made my heart start racing. There, in the backseat amidst all the clutter, was a CO uniform.

  I walked quickly back over to Josh who had just started on the second car.

  “Stop what you’re doing and come with me,” I said.

  “But—”