Escape Clause

by James O. Born

  He nodded, not wanting to reveal his true feelings. His stomach started to burn like someone had poured pool acid down his throat. He got ahold of himself and managed to ask, “Where you goin’?”

  “Where else, the Green Mile.”

  “He really knows how to spoil a girl.”

  “No, it’s not like that. I chose it, because it’s a comfortable place and we actually met there.”

  “I thought you met here.”

  “Nope. The very first time was the Saturday before he came here.”

  “What time are you goin’?”

  She hesitated.

  “I mean, ’cause it’s gettin’ late.”

  She looked at her watch. “No, I’m okay. He’s not picking me up until seven.”

  “Have fun,” was all Norton could really get out.

  Renee met Tasker at the front door to her well-kept, single-family house located in the center of the small town of Gladesville. Her Jeep Liberty was parked in the driveway and the putting-green-sized yard was neatly trimmed. She had two wooden lounge chairs on her porch, which ran the length of the front of her house. She was completely ready, and shut and locked the door without asking Tasker inside.

  He followed her to his car, trying not to focus on the incredibly form-fitting jeans or the white blouse over the pink tank top that looked like it had been made for a teenager. He darted around her at the car and opened her door. She smiled as she leaned into the low Monte Carlo.

  As he settled into the driver’s seat, Renee said, “You look nice.”

  “So do you.”

  “Where do you keep your gun?”

  He patted the black belly bag sitting on the center console. “Right here.”

  “Don’t you always wear a gun when you go out?”

  “Never if I’m going to a bar.”

  “Why not?”

  “Just prefer not to. I’ll store my Sig under the seat. You expecting trouble?”

  “No, I was just wondering. That’s every correctional officer’s dream: to be able to carry a gun off prison property.”

  “I thought inspectors could.”

  “Usually only when we’re on duty.”

  “I’ll remember not to pick a fight with an inspector on duty.”

  She smiled and he relaxed on his way to the restaurant.

  Inside the Green Mile, they took a booth a row off the dance floor. He couldn’t keep from looking into her clear, dark eyes. Every time she looked up at him and caught him staring, she broke into a wide smile and dipped her head.

  She said, “It’s nicer and quieter over here than at the bar.”

  “I’ll admit I’m surprised at the difference.”

  “Yeah, you probably won’t have to punch anyone over in this section.”

  “With any luck, neither will you.” He smiled, uncertain of how she’d take the joke.

  “If I hadn’t punched Rufus that night, then he would’ve taken a swing at you.”

  “He seems to have moved past it.”

  “I think Rufus hitting you is the least of your concerns out here.”

  “You hear any rumors about anyone else trying to scare me?”

  “No, only jokes about what’s happened already.”

  “What kind of jokes?”

  “The lockdown officers refer to you as ‘Mrs. Hardaway.’ ”

  “Funny.” He took a deep breath. This was the most relaxed he’d been since his arrival. “I can’t laugh at some of the other stuff.”

  “You think the Aryan Knight encounter was staged?”

  “Seemed too easy to have four guys spoiling for a fight with an outside law enforcement officer. They would’ve gotten in a lot of trouble.”

  She looked off, considering what he had said.

  “And someone was snooping around my apartment, then killed Hamlet the mouse.”

  “I still believe that could’ve been anyone. Kids fooling around.”

  “What kids? No one lives within two miles of me.”

  “Who would you think is doing all this?”

  Tasker looked at her. “I’d say Sam Norton.”

  She thought about that, too. Shaking her head, she said, “It just doesn’t sound like Sam. Believe me, I’m sure he doesn’t like an outsider working in the prison, but he’s a straight arrow. He runs that place clean, and when he came in, he transferred anyone who was even suspected of corruption.”

  “Who else would do it?”

  “Sam doesn’t have anything to gain. Dewalt’s death doesn’t affect him.”

  He shrugged, trying to look at the problem from a different angle.

  Renee reached across the table with both hands and placed them on his. She looked right into his eyes this time and said, “Now, you kept saying you had something to tell me. What is it?”

  He smiled and took a breath. This was it.

  She added, “And this better not be work-related.”

  Just as he was about to start on his well-practiced speech, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned toward the dance floor and saw Billie Towers smile and wave as she walked toward their table.

  He was about to introduce the two women and explain that Billie was Professor Kling’s assistant when Renee snatched back her hands and said, “Tell me you don’t know her.”

  “Well, I, um, yes I do.”

  She looked at Billie. “You have a lot of nerve coming over here.”

  Now Tasker sensed this wasn’t a simple case of jealousy. “Renee, what’s wrong?”

  “Why don’t you ask Ms. Towers here?”

  They did know each other. Tasker looked at Billie.

  The small woman’s eyes widened. “I am so sorry. I didn’t recognize you. I only saw you from a distance the last time.”

  Renee scooted back in her seat like she might jump on Billie. “Yeah, the distance from across my boyfriend’s dick and his apartment.”

  Tasker was shocked to hear Renee speak like that.

  He said, “Look, I don’t understand.”

  Renee turned to him. “Then I’ll explain it. This is the little whore Rufus hooked up with while we were dating, and apparently she gets around.”

  Tasker was shocked by this news. What were the chances and how in the hell could Rufus have two women like this?

  Tasker said, “You mean she and Rufus . . .”

  “That’s right. She’s the reason we broke up.”

  “You’re shittin’ me.”

  That did it. Renee stood straight up. “I’ve had all I want to take. I’m going home.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll take you. Just . . .”

  “Bullshit you’ll take me. I’ll find a way home.” She turned and headed straight for the front door with a few eyes following her as she marched out.

  Tasker was in total shock. He looked at Billie, tears starting to drip down her face.

  She said, “I’m so sorry, Bill.” Then she turned and fled out the same door.

  He just sat at the table trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

  thirty-seven

  It was Sunday morning and Jerry Risto was actually at his desk looking at the information Bill Tasker had given him. He liked to work an occasional weekend, especially when the director authorized overtime for it. Aside from the money, he wanted to do a good job for Tasker. He liked the kid. God knows things had not been easy for him but the guy still tried to do the right thing, and most important he treated the analysts right. That wasn’t always the case with cops.

  There were other advantages to getting on the computer in the office on a Sunday morning. The network ran like Marion Jones, no one asked him stupid questions and the phone didn’t ring off the hook. In addition, he just needed some time away from his new girlfriend. This one was young enough to be his daughter, but not as heavy. She kept him up half the night until he gave up on the damn Encite and went whole hog with the Viagra. Now he was tired and in dire need of some silence.

  He started his s
earch through public records with the name Sam Norton, and its variables like Samuel, that Tasker had given him. Risto then took some unconventional turns. He liked mixing official databases with public search engines like Google. After a few minutes, he had a few leads and some possible associates. He knew Tasker would be impressed, he always was.

  On Monday morning, Captain Sam Norton stood up from his desk and glanced down into the exercise yard of the Rock. It was still a little early for inmates to be running around down there. He was bone tired. Yesterday was his only day off from the prison but he had other enterprises to work on when he wasn’t organizing the schedule or writing reports on Luther Williams’ escape.

  He headed out his door and down the hall toward Inspector Chin’s office. It was the third trip he had made since eight o’clock. When no one was around and he just wanted to check on her, he didn’t think it mattered how often he took the short stroll. This time his effort was rewarded by the sight of the inspector at her desk, preparing her first report of the day.

  He rapped on the inside of the door frame.

  “Hey, Sam,” she said, looking up.

  Norton was surprised at her appearance. “Man, you look like you been in combat all weekend.”

  “Wish I were, it might have been more fun.”

  “Your eyes are all bloodshot. You get any sleep?”

  “Yeah, but I need more.”

  Norton asked, “Everything all right?”

  “Just a personal life that sucks.”

  “Wanna talk about it?” He slipped into the office and took a seat in front of her neat desk.

  “No, not really. It’s just that men are all the same.”

  “I’m not the same as other men.”

  She looked up and smiled and said, “You’re right, Sam, you’re not.”

  Just the comment and half-smile boosted his spirits and made him forget about some of his ongoing concerns.

  Bill Tasker had tried to call Renee Chin all day Sunday, but she never picked up the phone. He even went by her small house, but the Jeep Liberty was nowhere to be seen. This morning, he had not walked past her office yet, wanting to give her some space. She’d be down to talk to him if that was what she wanted. He knew she was here because he had seen her coming up the walk from the parking lot when he had gone to the restroom. So far he was still alone in his tiny office.

  He understood Renee’s reaction to Billie. Had she given him a few minutes, he would’ve explained. Although he would’ve welcomed a romantic involvement with the young Seminole woman before he had fallen for Renee, the fact was that he was only friends with her. Saturday night, that seemed like a difficult point to get across.

  While he was working up the courage to walk the fifty feet down the hall to explain everything to her in a calm, rational manner, his cell phone rang its odd little “Stars and Stripes Forever” tune.

  He answered it, “Bill Tasker.”

  “I hope so, that’s who I was calling.”

  Tasker had to smile at the sound of Jerry Risto’s voice.

  “Hey, Jerry, what’re you doing in the office so early on a Monday?”

  “I got news for you, hotshot. I was here yesterday working on your shit.”

  “You’re a champ, Jerry. Find anything?”

  “C’mon, I always find something. This time, though, there was a lot to find.”

  “Give me some specifics. Is Norton in a corporation?”

  “He is, with a few partners. Norton is listed as the president of the GM Corporation. The corporation was formed about a year ago and its listed headquarters is in Gladesville.”

  “Okay, what’s the corporation do?”

  “Far as I can tell, it owns some property in its name.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s all that I can get to. It has a parcel with an address of 19650 US 27, Gladesville. You’ll have to find that yourself.”

  “That rings a bell.” He looked in his desk, then started to root through the canvas briefcase he had left there. “Go ahead, what else you got?” He listened to some details while he felt through the briefcase.

  Jerry went on, “Norton has been with the Department of Corrections twenty-three years. Looks like his wife filed for divorce about four months ago.”

  Tasker just kept saying, “Uh-huh, uh-huh,” not really interested in the guy’s personal problems. He pulled out his digital camera from the case and fumbled with the review button. He scrolled through the few photos, then found the one he took of the professor when he visited his archaeological dig. Behind the professor’s smiling face was a crude sign with the numbers 19650 on it. This was the proposed site for the private prison near Professor Kling’s archaeological dig.

  “Jerry, I found it. The property is one of the sites being considered for the new private prison.”

  “You’re shittin’ me. And this mope owns it?”

  “Looks like it. That’s what all this heat has been about. Not the death but the site. He doesn’t want me poking around anymore.” Tasker thought of the possibilities. “But why?”

  “Got me, kid. There are some other partners. I didn’t really look into them.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Henry Janzig.”

  “Yeah, he’s a tough old sergeant out here. They must be looking to retire rich.”

  “Aren’t we all?”

  “Who else?”

  “R. A. Chin. He work out there, too?”

  Tasker froze. Just as Jerry said her name, Renee Chin appeared at his doorway.

  “Yeah, Jerry. He does. Hey, listen. Can I call you back for the rest of this?”

  “One of ’em just walk in the room?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Good luck, kid.”

  “Think I’m gonna need it.” He kept his eyes on her, but this time it was for a different reason.

  thirty-eight

  Renee Chin stood at the door to the tiny office the warden had let Tasker use to work on his report. He was on his sleek little cell phone and all she heard him say was, “Exactly,” and “Think I’m gonna need it.” Some part of her reacted like he was talking to that Native American slut Billie Towers. The rational side of her didn’t really believe that. She didn’t think he was that kind of guy. It was just the sight of that perky, perfect smile coming toward him that made her flash back to the day she caught Rufus Goodwin at his house, on a Thursday evening. That whore coming out of his bathroom naked. Naked. That had almost been too much.

  Now she forced a smile as Tasker folded his phone and re-holstered it on his hip holder.

  “Hi,” she said, looking down at the clean, cheap carpet.

  “Hi,” he answered.

  “Did you try to call me yesterday?”

  “Couple of times.” He nodded, doing a good job of keeping cool.

  “I didn’t answer the phone.” She paused, then added, “Yesterday.”

  Tasker just looked at her without saying a word. She felt like his blue eyes were looking inside her. She hadn’t seen this from the FDLE agent before.

  Renee said, “You’d have to know the full history I have with that girl.”

  “I pieced it together pretty well.”

  “But you don’t think that’s an excuse.”

  “You’re an adult. Your behavior is your own choice.”

  She nodded and turned away from the door, thinking, I blew it.

  An hour later, Tasker was in his car. He didn’t really know where he was headed, but knew he had to get away from the prison. Jerry Risto’s phone call had hit him hard. He could easily accept that Sam Norton and his crony, Henry Janzig, were involved in a scam of some kind. He had already suspected them of setting him up with the inmates. They wanted him to hurry the investigation and it looked like they were hiding something in the Dewalt death.

  The news that Renee was involved with them was much more troubling. It brought up the question of whether she was only interested in him to find out about the report. This
wasn’t the first time a woman had used Tasker to further her own financial situation.

  Tasker pulled into the lone Chevron station in town and started to pump some medium grade into his state car. He could sure use a beer, he thought, but realized it was the wrong time and he was still on duty, although he had no idea how he’d concentrate on anything at the prison. He had to piece this thing together and then tell the director what the hell was going on. Realistically he needed to ask for help or maybe hand it off completely, but in his gut he knew he wanted to see it through.

  As he contemplated his options and pumped the gas, his cell phone rang. He opened his Nextel and saw the name Billie on the screen.

  He answered, “Hey, how’re you?”

  “Good,” said a male voice. “This Bill Tasker?”

  Tasker held the phone at arm’s length and looked at the name again. It clearly read Billie. He said, “Yeah, this is Tasker. Who’s this?”

  “Captain Norton.”

  Tasker was confused, but answered quickly, “Didn’t recognize your voice.”

  “I needed to pass on some info on Luther Williams and didn’t know who at FDLE to call.”

  “What’s the info?”

  “That he has a gun.”

  “Who, Luther Williams?”

  “Who else would I be talking about?”

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “One of the inmates. He had a contact on the outside that spoke to Luther.”

  “I need to talk to the inmate.”

  “No can do. He’s my snitch. I’m the only one he’ll talk to.”

  “Need to verify some facts.”

  “Then ask me and I’ll ask him. But it seems to me that knowing an escaped inmate is armed is something the cops lookin’ for him would need to know.”

  “I’ll pass it on and I’ll give them your phone number if they have any questions. How’s that?”

  “That’s fine. Give ’em my office number. I just called you from my house. I’m on lunch.”

  Tasker made the connection immediately. Billie had called him from Norton’s home phone last time. Was everyone in town in on this scam?