“It’s not narcing when you change teams in the middle of the game.” Besides, Abby Ruth still hadn’t come clean about Lil being in prison. If he had to guess, she planned to keep that secret. “That’s not what I’m saying and you know—”
Her nails were short, but pain was still involved when she poked him in the chest. Five times had that effect. “It’s all fine and dandy for me to do your spying and dirty work when it’s convenient for you. But when it causes your ass to ache a little, you’re not so interested. I’ll have you know that in a couple of sessions I could have that kid consistently getting base hits.”
“I know you have his best interests at heart,” Teague told her, “but you picked the wrong kid to take under your wing.”
“Yeah—” her glare reminded him so much of the one Jenny had given him the last time they’d seen one another that it made his knees lock, “—this wouldn’t be the first time I backed the wrong contender.”
* * *
When she walked into Summer Haven’s kitchen, Abby Ruth was still muttering compound curses made of every four-letter word she’d ever learned, and a couple five-letter ones for good measure. And she’d been in the roughest locker rooms in professional sports, so her vocabulary was as long as the distance between two goalposts.
“Whoa,” Sera said from her perch at the desk tucked into the room’s back corner. “I knew you were a journalist, but I had no idea how truly creative you were. Are any of those in Webster’s?”
“If muleturd isn’t, it damn well should be.” Abby Ruth tried for a grumpy tone but couldn’t pull it off. Something about Sera, their middle-aged flower child, tended to soften Abby Ruth’s caustic edges.
“It’s got visual punch, I’ll give you that.” Sera grinned. “Probably smells like our front yard.”
That was when Abby Ruth noticed what was sitting on Sera’s nose. A pair of tie-dyed cheaters. Only Sera would buy hippy-style old-lady glasses. “I knew you were too good to be true.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Abby Ruth pointed a pistol finger at Sera’s face. “You’re getting old just like the rest of us. The proof is sitting right there on your nose.”
“Oh.” With a quick flick, Sera slipped them off. “They’re only for close-up work.”
And that refocused Abby Ruth’s attention to the computer screen in front of Sera. What in the world? She stepped closer, bent to get a better look because—truth be told—she needed a little help on close-up work too. “Why are you looking up fraud and dating sites on the internet? What’s ThePerfectFit.com? And why in heaven’s name are you looking for someone named Tom Thumb?”
“Keep it down.” Sera pushed her chair to the side and shot a glance over Abby Ruth’s shoulder. Then she nestled closer. “Just wanted to make sure Maggie wasn’t within hearing distance.”
Oh, this day just kept getting better. If Sera was doing something Maggie wouldn’t like, it would probably be a helluva lot of fun. Abby Ruth grabbed a chair from the farm table in the middle of the room and scooted it close to Sera. “Spill it, sister.”
“Lillian wants us check out this guy her prison friend’s niece met on a dating site. A favor for that Martha woman.”
“Why?”
“Maggie says Martha’s convinced there’s something about the guy that’s not on the up and up.”
“Then why are we hiding it from Maggie?”
“She doesn’t want to help Martha.”
“Oh. The guy’s name is Tom Thumb? What’s with people and naming their kids? No wonder everyone is in therapy these days. What else you got?”
“Just the dating site name and his screen name. OnceUponATom.”
“No way.” Tracking down this bozo was right up Abby Ruth’s alley. She rubbed her hands together, eager to get in on the fun. “What have you found?”
“That’s the problem,” Sera said. “I’ve been searching for the past hour, and I’ve got nothing.”
“What about social media?”
“The only thing on Twitter or Facebook under that name is a grocery store chain.”
“Hmm,” she mused. “That’s a little shifty.” It was actually too easy to find people online these days. Not like way back when she’d started her journalism career. Back then, tracking people down took walking the streets and honest sweat. Now, a gal’s fingers could do all the work. And what fun was that?
Even though hunting up dirt on folks online wasn’t as enjoyable as old-fashioned sneak and peeks, a good Google search and a waltz through social media were the right tactics. So no Facebook profile said big, fat fraud to her. “And why are we hiding this little look-see from Maggie, exactly?”
“Martha proposed a trade.” Sera continued to click on links. “We find this guy, and she’ll have someone fix Summer Haven’s septic system.”
“Why would Maggie have a problem with that? Sounds like a win-win to me.” Lord knew, mucking around in some guy’s muddy past was a whole lot more fun than slogging through the crap bubbling up in Summer Haven’s front yard.
“I think it hurt her pride that Lil didn’t think she could handle the latest house problem herself. Maggie told me to leave the dating site research alone.”
Abby Ruth elbowed Sera. “And look at you, being the rebel. Wouldn’t have dreamed it.” Actually, she wouldn’t have dreamed Sera was so experienced with technology. She was the strangest combination of airhead and brainiac. Problem was, you never knew which Sera would show up on which day.
“But I’ve hit a dead-end. And I don’t like it.”
“Have you really? Or have you just struck out—” and didn’t that make her wince; if Maggie was on edge now, she would teeter over when she caught wind of what had transpired between Abby Ruth and Angelina at the ball field…so better to keep that close to her chest, “—on the easy stuff?”
“If he’s not online, he doesn’t exist.”
“No, that identity doesn’t exist, but you can bet your hot buttered buns there’s a real person behind the fake. I’m sure half the people on that The Perfect Fit match website are lying about one thing or another.”
“That’s not a good way to start a relationship.”
“Oh, Sera, if everyone were as honest and kindhearted as you, it’d be a different world.” Abby Ruth laced her fingers and cracked her knuckles. “But they’re not. If this guy is doing something under the table, I’ll catch him in it. Did I tell you about the time I discovered the Super Bowl-winning QB was dating the ref’s wife? Made the ball player ’fess up to it too. If I can pull that off, this OnceUponATom is a piece of red velvet cake.”
Chapter Six
During lunch hour on his next off-duty day, Teague sat in an Atlanta restaurant at a teensy two-topper table that couldn’t have been any bigger than a kindergartner’s desk. Suddenly, someone shouted above the milling crowd, “And time. Three minutes, ladies, three minutes.”
What had to be a hundred women shot in every direction, scurrying toward tables as if the music was about to stop at the county fair cakewalk. When a woman dove into the chair opposite him, it skidded across the floor with a tooth-tingling screech.
Her hair was bleached blond with bright pink ends, which clashed with her red lipstick. “Hi, I’m Heidi,” she rushed out.
“Teague.”
“What’s your favorite position?”
“Second base.”
Heidi reached over and slapped his hand. “I do love a man with a sense of humor. Sexual position, silly.”
Teague squeezed his eyes closed. Why had he thought coming to a speed-dating session was an even remotely good idea? Probably because Abby Ruth had thrown his mistakes with Jenny in his face. “I…uh…”
“You do like sex, don’t you?”
He shot a glance at the bar. Alcohol was against the speed-dating rules, at least until the so-called dates were over. But damned if he couldn’t use a double shot of Crown about now. “Tell me something about yourself, Heidi.”
“Well, I’m not much into missionary, but I can get behind some doggy—”
“Whoa!” He hit a traffic cop pose with his hand to stop her flow of words. “Know what? I don’t think this is going to work out.”
“But we still have a minute left.”
Which would be the longest sixty seconds of his life if he had to hear this woman quote the Kama Sutra. “I’m impotent.”
“Bye, then!” She sprang out of the chair as if he’d pushed an eject button.
He rubbed a palm across his eyes. As ideas went, this had been a bad one. But before he could stand and walk out, the shout came again. “And switch!”
This time, a tall, stacked redhead sat down across from him and held out her hand. “Alissa.”
“Teague.”
“Well, Teague the Miserable. What brought you here?”
Good thing he’d never aspired to be an actor because he wasn’t fooling this one. “I just wanted… I’m just…”
She smiled. It was pretty as smiles went, but it wasn’t a Jenny Cady blow-your-socks-off smile. “We all get lonely. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. But this doesn’t seem like your kind of scene.”
“My first time.”
“I can always spot a virgin.”
He winced. “No more sex talk, please.” Hell, no sex was better than putting himself through this to find a date.
Her laughter was low and soothing. “Not everyone is cut out for these face-to-face deals. Have you ever thought about online dating?”
Good grief, he was pathetic. “You know what? This whole thing has been a huge mistake. I’ve been in love with the same woman since I was—” Probably even more pathetic to admit he’d been in love with Jenny since he was ten years old. When would he accept he’d ruined their chances years ago and finally move on? Regardless, this micro-dating wasn’t going to work for him.
The redhead reached into her purse, then pressed a card into his hand. “This is a new dating site I just heard about. You don’t have to do much work. The system even picks matches for you.” She leaned on the table and whispered, “If you want to duck out, I’ll cover for you. If you don’t get out now, you’ll be covered up the entire hour. The girls were fighting over you before the rounds even started.”
“Thanks,” he said, and bolted from the table. When he made it to the door, he turned and gave her a little salute.
Alissa waved back and, when the organizer called out again, she headed for her next date.
Outside, Teague sucked in a lungful of air. That was the worst experience he’d had in…forever. How did guys do that? He glanced down at the card in his hand.
Just throw it away. But he couldn’t resist and turned it over.
ThePerfectFit.com.
* * *
Monday morning meetings with the warden never amounted to good. Everyone in this terrible place knew that, but still Lil had hoped the summons would yield happy news. Like early release news.
Lillian left Warden Proctor’s office on legs heavy with disappointment. No such luck.
So far, there was no news of an early release. Instead of promising Lillian she’d go before the parole board, the warden had assigned her a new project. But once again, the warden had softened her request by dangling the early-release carrot. Lil was beginning to believe the warden’s garden was full of veggies she never harvested or served.
When she walked back into the pod she shared with her bunkmate, Dixie asked, “Everything okay?”
“Oh, it’s fine.” Although she felt deflated inside, Lillian gave Dixie a smile. “The warden just asked me to spearhead another project. That’s good, right?”
“That’s not good. That’s awesome.” The redhead’s face lit up. “The more you do for her, the more she’ll do for you. At this rate, you’ll be out of here before me.”
That was a huge stretch, and they both knew it. Her roomie’s stint was up tomorrow, and Lillian hated to think what things would be like around here without Dixie at her side, guiding her through all the ins and outs of prison life. The girl had saved her hide a few times. Lillian settled on the bunk bed’s bottom mattress. “I’ll miss you when you get out.”
Dixie dropped down beside Lillian and leaned back against the bed’s metal frame. “So, what’s the new project?”
“A couple of initiatives, including an interviewing and dress-for-success session specifically geared toward the ladies about to be released.”
“I sure could’ve used that,” Dixie said. “It’s hard to find work on the outside once you’ve been on the inside. No one wants to hire someone who’s been in jail. Even if you were in for something minor, people out in the real world treat you like you murdered someone.”
Lillian worried about Dixie’s ability to land work. She didn’t have many skills, and full-time employment was part of her early release criteria. “I think it will be a beneficial program, but I’m worried about the timeline. I only have a week to get it all in place.”
“That’s not much time,” Dixie agreed. “Why the hurry?”
The reason was supposed to be kept quiet, but she could trust Dixie. “You can’t tell anyone.”
Dixie crossed her heart.
“A Bureau of Prisons team is visiting the smaller prisons because they need to close a few. It’s a budget thing. If Walter Stiles ends up on their closure list, Warden Proctor and the others who work here would have to move or they’d be out of jobs. She doesn’t want to let that happen on her watch.”
“Too bad for them.”
“It could be devastating for the inmates too.” Lil picked at a loose thread on her pillowcase, accidentally unraveling a good portion of the seam. “If they shut down this facility, we’d all be relocated. The next closest facility is five hours away.”
“Oohh.” Dixie blew out a breath that made her lips sputter. “Your friends wouldn’t be able to visit as often if you’re that far away.”
“Exactly,” Lil said. “And in addition to the interviewing session, she charged me with a beautification project. How I’ll get all that done in a week, I have no idea.”
“What exactly is a beautification project?” Dixie’s face turned mulish. “What’s wrong with the way we look?”
“It’s not about the way we look, although you have to admit the uniforms are more than a little tired. I have to get the grounds and buildings spiffied up—paint, plants. You name it, she wants it. And Lord knows that’s like slapping lipstick on a pig.”
“This is not good.” Dixie shook her head as if she were watching a ping-pong match. “Not good at all.”
“I know it’s only a week, but hopefully the warden will be happy with the little I can do in the time I have. Besides, she’s right. The grounds could use some color, and the buildings themselves could benefit from a fresh coat of paint. It’s just so much to accomplish in such a short time.” Lillian felt exhausted just thinking about it. This was not a job for someone her age.
Dixie bit her lip. “Lil, gussying up the place isn’t the warden’s idea. The brain behind the whole paintin’ and plantin’ thing is Big Martha.”
Lillian paused the slideshow in her mind of robin’s-egg-blue walls, pansies in the courtyard and immaculately dressed mock interview candidates. “What are you saying?”
“While I was waiting for my exit interview, I heard Big Martha pitch the whole idea to the warden. Pretty much word for word what you just told me.” She gnawed on her cuticle, caught Lil’s raised brows, and stuffed her hands into her lap. “Trust me, Martha was angling to run it herself. She considers herself quite the green thumb. She’ll flip when she finds out the warden picked you to pull off her idea.”
Lillian’s stomach gave such a lurch her breakfast rolled. Probably not unlike the septic mess bubbling up at Summer Haven. Because when Martha heard Lillian had once again stepped on her toes, she would say adios to their deal to have Summer Haven’s septic system fixed.
Dixie jumped up and paced around the tiny pod. �
��For once, I sure am glad I’m not you.”
“I wish I weren’t me right now too.” Dang the warden. Her ideas and requests always seemed to drive a wedge between Lillian and Martha. And Big Martha’s bad side was the last place Lil wanted to be.
She hopped up and made for the open doorway between the cinderblocks surrounding their little space.
“Where are you off to so fast?” Dixie’s voice rang with panic.
Lil spun around and bracketed her hands on her hips. “I’m going to tell Martha. No sense her finding out from someone other than me.”
“You be careful,” Dixie called after her.
Lillian marched straight to Martha’s cottage. Although it was clear across the prison yard, she made the trip in short time. The prison’s required daily exercise time had upped her stamina, a small plus in an otherwise depressing situation.
Lillian climbed the steps to the porch, but one of Big Martha’s girls blocked the cottage’s doorway in front of her and snapped, “She doesn’t want to see you right now.”
Just as Lillian began to argue her case, a crash and a guttural growl filled the air.
“Maybe I should rephrase that,” the girl said, glancing over her shoulder. When something hit the door behind her, she flinched, then lowered her voice. “Old girl, you do not want to see her right now.”
Martha had definitely received the news about the project.
“Skedaddle. Get on outta here before she throws you next. Go, granny, go!”
Lillian didn’t need to be warned twice. She spun as fast as a skater on thin ice and high-tailed it back to her unit, never looking back.
Everyone else in the block was out in the courtyard. She was thankful to be alone, because her brain was about to explode. Overwhelmed just thinking about the mess she was in, Lil crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her head.
What could’ve been minutes or hours later, Dixie nudged her awake. “It’s dinnertime.”
Collard Greens and Catfishing Page 4