Guarding Secrets

by Pat Tucker

  His post wasn’t that long or detailed, but it was the comments about the post that caught my attention.

  Since when did inmates get to use the Internet? one comment asked.

  Anyone who sees those videos, are going to be sickened by them. They’re going to be angry. Aren’t these like murderers, rapists, and other convicted criminals and they are having a good time in prison? Where are the friggin guards? Asleep?

  My eyes searched around for the video in question, but I couldn’t find it. I read several more comments.

  Did y’all see the one inmate talking about this shit ain’t half bad? Where are they locked up, camp Fed?

  And these idiots are on Facebook bragging about smoking ‘loud’ talking about everybody in here on the stupid loud; we all hungry! Who’s watching these crooks?

  Not only did I think the inmates who posted the pictures and videos were stupid for putting that stuff on the Internet, but I felt like Nelson was dumb for adding it to his blog.

  At first I was stunned by what I read and saw, until I realized it was nearly two years old. If no one else was bothered by what they had done, there was no point in me raising my blood pressure.

  I logged off and closed my eyes. I tried to get comfortable, and adjusted my body in the leather massage chair determined to enjoy the tapping and kneading sensation that vibrated all over my body.

  This was as close as I imagined heaven could be without dying to find out. I felt completely at peace and wished I could stay suspended in that feeling forever.

  My kids stayed with my mother so I was used to being home alone. But the doorbell’s sudden chime made my eyes snap open.

  Rest was something I rarely got anymore since I’d started running DaQuan’s business. I pressed a button that ended the chair’s vibration and moved me into an upright position.

  “Ugh, what now?”

  As I got up, the phone rang again. It was Lena, so I ignored her yet again. She was determined to get all up in my business no matter what.

  One look out of the peephole took me even farther away from the serenity I’d left only moments prior. The tall, light-skinned man, with colorful tattoos that covered his neck, shoulders, and arms looked around as he waited for me to answer.

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  He let out a growl before he answered.

  “DaQuan sent me.”

  My hands shook as I unlocked the door and pulled it open. I looked into the eyes of a person I’d sworn had killed before. A chill ran through me when his eyes finally locked with mine.

  “Here.” He shoved a set of keys into my hands, then tried to look behind me. Instinctively, I pulled the door closer to my body.

  Before I could say anything, he pivoted and walked away. When I looked down and saw the BMW emblem on the electronic key in my hand, I released a trapped breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

  DaQuan had obviously sent me a loaner. He thought of everything. He was pissed when I told him what Dunbar had done to my car, but he said he’d take care of it. And the more he took care of me, the better it made me feel about working for him and of course, being with him.

  I was about to go check out my loaner when Lena pulled up. I wasn’t in the mood for her, but since she’d caught me outside, there was nothing I could do.

  “OHMYGOD, Charisma! Is this an even newer car? What happened to your other Beamer?”

  She got out of her car and went straight to the BMW before I could say hi. “I knew you was right over here ignoring my calls.”

  “I didn’t have my phone,” I lied. “Oh, and my car is in the shop. DaQuan just had one of his boys drop this loaner off to—”

  The sparkle in her eyes told me I had just made a huge mistake. My heart sank.

  “DaQuan? That’s not a name you hear a lot. Reminds me of those ghetto mamas who make up names for their kids. So, your top-secret new man has a name after all.”

  Victory was all over Lena’s face.

  I wanted to slap myself. I had run my mouth too much. As Lena inspected the loaner, I could only imagine what must’ve run through her mind.

  “Well, this DaQuan, he sure does have real good taste.”

  My eyes were on her every move.

  “This pearl color looks like a custom job too.”

  “Mmm, I don’t think so.”

  Lena stopped and looked at me. “Charisma, trust me, the BMW 3 Series does not have a coupe that comes in pearl from the factory.”

  What the hell?

  Lena walked around the car slowly, like she was deep in study in case she might be quizzed later or asked to show it off.

  “What did you say he does again? I mean, because you swear he ain’t out in these streets selling no drugs, right?”

  Lena’s expression was one of triumph and gloating. She stopped, put her Gucci bag on the hood of the loaner car, then tossed a hand to her hip.

  “Well?”

  “Lena, like I told you. We like our privacy, and we wanna keep our personal life private. The minute you start putting people all up in your business, that’s when things start getting messed up. Why can’t you respect that?”

  She pulled her arms up and crossed them at her chest.

  “I am your blood relative. I’m not ‘people’ and I don’t get why you won’t share with me!”

  “He just sent us shopping together. I do share with you. But that doesn’t mean I need to give you all the details about our relationship.”

  “Umph. Well, riddle me this,” Lena began. “What kind of big baller, who buys luxury cars, designer clothes, bags and shoes for his woman, don’t mind her working in some sleazy prison?”

  Her question almost knocked me off my feet. I expected her to go on about me keeping him a secret but never expected her to question my job.

  Lena came closer.

  “Oh, I see I finally hit a nerve, didn’t I?”

  I swallowed hard. She had invaded my personal space.

  “Wait!” Her eyes lit up. “Don’t tell me he doesn’t know where you work!” She grinned, then gave me a knowing look.

  “I knew it!” Lena snapped her fingers and jumped up with glee. “Now it makes sense. You ain’t been on the up and up with this DaQuan!” Her happy expression melted from her face and was quickly replaced by a look of bewilderment.

  “Wait.” Again, her face lit up. Then she frowned and asked, “Does he know you’ve been to jail before?”

  I rolled my eyes at her theatrics.

  “I haven’t been to jail, Lena. I was on house arrest and probation and I only pled guilty to the fraud charge because I couldn’t afford a good lawyer.”

  She didn’t seem interested in her incorrect facts.

  “Ah, has he seen you in person yet?”

  Her question was loaded.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  KENYATAYE

  This time, I didn’t share the plan with either of those two backstabbing bitches. They’d find out soon enough what I planned to do. The more I thought about everything DaQuan had done, the better I felt about what I was about to do.

  He had taken everything away from me, then helped a fat, ugly bitch flaunt it all in my face. I wasn’t gonna take any more of his shit or hers, either.

  I got out of the rental car and walked into the small building.

  “Howdy,” the man behind the counter greeted me. “You doin’ okay?” He was a massive man. He wore large denim overalls and a colorful striped shirt.

  “Yeah. I’m good.”

  My eyes took in all the things he had on display. Two other people stood at the counter and the man looked back at me and said, “I’ll be with you in a few minutes, ma’am.”

  I walked around and looked at a few things I thought I might want.

  A few minutes later, the man walked up behind me.

  “Are you looking for an automatic or a small pistol?”

  “I think something small.”

  Part of me couldn’t believe I was there.
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  “I might have something of interest behind the counter; c’mon, let me show you what I’ve got.”

  He took off and went behind the counter. I watched as he reached down and pulled out a small box.

  When he opened the box, there were three smaller boxes inside.

  “This here is a .22 caliber mini-revolver.”

  The gun was pretty. It was small and looked like it would be perfect for what I planned to do.

  “It’s a five-shot, about four inches. It’s real popular with my female customers.” He placed it in my hand. “Go ahead, see how it feels?”

  “Yes; it’s nice.”

  “You have your documents already or you gotta wait for them to come in?”

  “No, I’ve got everything. I’m a correctional officer.”

  His eyebrows went up.

  “So you already licensed to carry?”

  “Yup. I don’t need it for my job, but I want it for safety.”

  “Yeah, that’s smart. Lots of wild, wacky things going on these days; it’s good to have your own protection.”

  “You ever shot a gun before?”

  “Oh, yes. I know how to use them. I really like this one; it’s cute.”

  As he took my driver’s license and my other paperwork, I inspected the gun. It would be perfect. Images of the horror on DaQuan’s face when I pointed the gun at him nearly made me cream myself. First, I’d put a bullet between his eyes, then I’d go after his fat, ugly bitch.

  I might do her right in front of everyone. Maybe I’d get her in the guards’ booth. The only part I hadn’t worked out was whether I’d do myself afterward. There was no doubt I had already lost everything, and in Texas, after I took those two out, I’d get the death penalty anyway.

  The entire transaction took less than an hour. I walked out of the gun shop with my new gun, and for the first time in a very long time, I felt good.

  Nearly an hour later, I called my job. “This is C.O. Dunbar. Is Edwards available?”

  “Yeah, hold on, please.”

  The next voice I heard was Edwards’s.

  “Hey, I think I left my wallet there; can you check the desk for me?”

  “Your wallet? How you gonna leave your wallet up in here?”

  I rolled my eyes and listened as she shuffled some things around.

  “You sure it was in the booth, because I’m here and I don’t see anything.”

  “Maybe I should come up there and look around a bit myself. I don’t know what I did with it.”

  “Well, I don’t see it anywhere around here; maybe you can try to trace your last steps.”

  “Okay; well, thanks for looking.”

  My mother was in the living room watching her soaps. I took the plastic wrap, a large zipper sandwich bag and a tube of lube into the bathroom.

  I grabbed the hand mirror and locked the bathroom door. I pulled up my skirt, took off my panties and eased onto the floor.

  I put the gun inside the sandwich bag. After that, I wrapped it in plastic wrap and used duct tape to secure the bag around the gun.

  On the floor, with the wrapped gun, and the hand mirror, I spread my legs wide and squeezed some lube into my hand. I lathered the plastic wrapped gun; then I eased it into my opening and slowly shoved it as far as it could go.

  The gun went in with no problem. I exhaled and slowly closed my legs. It felt like I had something stashed up inside my twat, but that was what it was supposed to feel like. Instead of putting my panties back on, I put on a leotard shirt that snapped between my legs.

  After that, I put my panties back on. I had to make sure I’d be able to walk normally. The biggest challenge would be getting through security and into the prison without being detected.

  Once I felt comfortable and ready, I left and drove up to my job.

  People looked surprised to see me, but not like they didn’t expect me back.

  “Hey, Dunbar, you doin’ okay?” one of the security officers asked.

  “It’s all good.”

  “You working today?” Franklin asked.

  “Nah, I think I left my wallet here. I just need to look around a bit.”

  “Oh, yeah, Edwards said you called.”

  I walked into the work area, but went straight to the bathroom. Bishop came in from the other direction.

  “Hey, Dunbar, I didn’t know you was working today.”

  “I’m not; here looking for something.” I needed her to mind her own damn business.

  “Oh. Okay.”

  She eased into the bathroom, and walked to the sink. I went into the last stall and waited as I heard the water run. I undressed so that I could do what I had come to do.

  “You okay in there?” Bishop asked.

  “Yeah. I’m good.”

  I was irritated by her and wanted her to leave. Now she wanted to be a bathroom guard.

  When I finally heard the bathroom door open and close, I unbuttoned the shirt between my legs and pushed the gun out of my coochie.

  “Later,” Bishop said.

  I grabbed a wad of tissue and wiped off the gun.

  If I knew Bishop, I knew she’d go run her mouth to Edwards and they’d be back soon. I didn’t need them all up in my business. Once the gun was out, I stood on top of the toilet and reached up to see if the panel on the ceiling still moved. It did.

  I slid the large square to the side and placed the gun in the space before I covered it back up again. I got off the toilet, walked out of the stall and washed my hands.

  My timing was perfect. As I pulled the door and walked out, Edwards and Bishop were on their way in.

  “Hey, I still haven’t found it; you sure you left it here?” Edwards asked.

  “I’m not sure of anything anymore. I could’ve left it at the store for all I know.”

  The way they looked at me made me feel some kind of odd way. But I didn’t say anything about it. I knew they were just trying to figure out whether I was up to something, and I was, but I knew I couldn’t confide in them.

  When Bishop’s radio went off, I was relieved. It couldn’t have happened at a better time. Two correctional officers rushed past us.

  “We’d better go,” Bishop said.

  Edwards rolled her eyes. “I’ll catch up with you.”

  Bishop left and rushed toward the chaos. “It ain’t nothing but another gassing incident,” Edwards said. “Not sure what’s going on, but these damn inmates been throwing piss and shit in every damn direction lately.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHARISMA

  If I didn’t know what a panic attack was like, I’d swear I was on the verge of one. Everything made me nervous and my mind raced more than ever before.

  Being arrested haunted my dreams to the point where I never wanted to sleep. Then the lack of sleep made me feel tired. I started to down those energy drinks like they were water and that didn’t help.

  There was too much going on and it happened too fast for me to keep up. Paranoia made me feel like the world was about to close in on me.

  At work, I expected the worst around every corner, even when things were settled and calm among the inmates. If I didn’t see DaQuan, I wondered whether he was doing something that would get us all busted.

  For the first time, I actually considered whether I should pop some of the pills I’d smuggled in for the inmates.

  Things seemed normal with Edwards, Bishop, and Franklin. But that wasn’t a surprise because when things got quiet with the inmates, the C.O.s relaxed and behaved like the job was laid-back. It seemed like as long as they got their money, they were good. It was obvious I was the only person on edge.

  “Hey, you got a sec?” R.J.’s question caught me off guard. I hoped he didn’t notice how jittery I had become. The last thing I wanted was for DaQuan to decide he didn’t need me anymore.

  I stepped all the way out of the booth and walked with R.J.

  “Yeah, what’s up? DaQuan looking for me?”

  R.J. lo
oked around. “Nah, nothing like that. Just wondering; we need a specific order filled.”

  His request sounded odd, but I figured it was something DaQuan needed me to do, so I was okay with it. I usually only brought in the pills and R.J. knew that.

  “Man, we really need two cells with chargers, like yesterday.”

  I wasn’t sure how to react. I coordinated everything, but I had never smuggled anything other than the pills. R.J. and I had talked in the past about how I wouldn’t be comfortable smuggling anything up in my coochie or my ass. I would need to talk with DaQuan himself because that’s when I’d have to draw the line.

  I stopped myself. Maybe it was a test to see how I’d handle a specific order? I wasn’t sure.

  “Hmmm. I could check with Sheppard; she’s usually good for those. Is that it?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Uh, when is your next pill shipment coming in?”

  “Next week; on Thursday.”

  “Okay, cool. That’s what’s up.” R.J. nodded. He glanced around again. “Let me know when you got a line on the cellies and I’ma holla at you later.”

  R.J. took off in the opposite direction after I nodded. I watched as he left, then turned and prepared to go back to the booth. There was still no sign of Sheppard, of course.

  It was just my luck that when I needed her, she was nowhere to be found. Most days, she bopped around the halls like she had nothing better to do.

  I knew for sure it would cause too much confusion to ask where she was, so I decided I’d focus on something else. The more I looked for her, the harder she’d be to find.

  My energy level was so off the charts there was no way I could go and sit back in the booth, so I decided to do some rounds. As I walked the halls and checked things out, thoughts of my simple cousin Lena flowed into my mind.

  She was determined to find the source of my money. The problem was, what would she do with the information once she found out? If I wasn’t careful, she could blow us all up and get everyone caught.

  “Charisma!”

  I turned to see C.O. Scott jogging to catch up with me. She looked over her shoulder, back in the direction she came from.