First Degree Innocence

by Ginger Simpson

  “New York.” Seth strode down the garden again, exchanging pleasantries with another guard at the far end.

  Carrie glanced over her shoulder, happy to see his handsome face again, then quickly returned to plucking vegetables. If anyone suspected she and Seth shared even a remote friendship, she’d be stripped of her trustee status, or worse, he could lose his job. She kept her head down, and within a few moments, raised her hand in the required manner. “My tub is full. I need another.”

  Seth crossed to the stack and retrieved an empty. He brought it to her and bent to take the filled one, leaning so close her breath hitched. “My friend’s a private investigator… I told him about you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Carrie rested her arms on the rec room table and looked across at Susanna. “I’m not sure what to make of Seth telling someone about me. Should I be impressed or afraid? What if his friend convinces Seth to stay clear of me?”

  “Didn’t you say his buddy’s a P.I.?” Di asked.

  “That’s what Seth said. I really wanted to ask him if there was a chance his friend might look into my case, but….”

  Di leaned into the conversation. “I’m sure he already asked his pal to look into your case.”

  Carrie raised her brow. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Nobody does anything for free. I’m sure a private investigator costs an arm and a leg. And I can’t imagine that Seth is going to foot the bill.”

  “Maybe Seth’s just a nice guy who wants to help. You did swear your innocence to him, didn’t you?” Susanna glanced up from picking at her cuticles.

  “Yes, but I expect he hears the same plea from someone every day. I’m nothing special to him.” Carrie’s admission stabbed at her own heart.

  “Well, I’ve never had a male guard show any interest in me, have you?” Franny glanced at each woman, and in turn they all shook their heads.

  “Why don’t you just ask him why you became a topic?” Di shrugged and smiled. “That’s what I’d do.”

  “I might not like what I hear,” Carrie confessed. “I enjoy his attention, but I’m not stupid enough to think he’s going to be my proverbial knight in shining armour.

  The whistle, signaling the end of recreation time, sounded. Carrie pushed away from the table and stood. “I’m pretty sure I’m making much more of his comment than I should. He probably only mentioned his friend’s credentials to impress me. I’m not going to give it another thought.” She started for the door before someone pointed out her obvious lie. Not give him another thought? She may as well say she planned to stop breathing.

  Falling into line according to cell number, Carrie pondered asking Seth about the conversation he shared with his friend. Maybe she should wait until he offered more information—if he did. God, she hated being so confused.

  She drifted along the hallway in thought until her cell door opened. A guard gave her a shove toward the opening then sealed her inside. Some of the matrons liked to exert their control more than others. Carrie tolerated it to keep peace. Nothing good ever came from engaging a superior in this place.

  Jet peered up from repose. “How was rec?”

  “Fine. Where were you?”

  “I had better things to do with my time… like gearing up for the deal you and I made.”

  Carrie’s breath halted. Her thoughts of Seth faded like fog in the sunshine.

  Jet propped herself on her elbows. “You remember, don’t you? I’ve given you more time than I planned.”

  “I hoped you’d forgotten about it.”

  “Not a chance.” Jet’s eyes narrowed. “And don’t think you’re weaseling out on me. A deal’s a deal.”

  “I know, I know.” Carrie’s shoulders sagged. The time had come for answers to all her previous questions, but was she ready? She plopped on the edge of Jet’s bunk. “So, what am I supposed to do?” Dread formed queasy bubbles in the pit of her stomach.

  * * * * *

  Carrie closed her gaping mouth. “You’ve got to be kidding. Even if I stick to my bargain, your plan will never work.”

  “I say it will.” Jet turned from the sink, her eyes blazing with ebony fire.

  “Let me see if I understand correctly.” Carrie stood and began pacing. “You’re going to arrange to have my cell changed again, and I’m going to plant a weapon of some sort in the bedding of an unsuspecting soul.” She stopped, faced Jet, and raised questioning hands. “For what purpose?”

  “That’s where your need to know ends.”

  “Great! You expect me to be part of a scheme without even knowing the whole story. That’s not fair. And, you haven’t even told me the name of the person whose cell I’m going to share. I think I have a right to know that, at least. Maybe if you told me why you harbor such a grudge against her, I might understand.”

  Jet crossed her arms. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know … just as soon as I have your assurance you agree to do what you promised.”

  Carrie massaged her brow. “If I recall, you didn’t give me much choice.”

  “Then we have a deal.” Jet crawled back onto her bunk and sat Indian style. “You’re going to help me pay back the bitch who ratted out my brother.” She unveiled her plan with the ease of someone announcing a trip to buy ice cream.

  “How well do you know this person?” Curiosity raised the hairs on Carrie’s arms.

  “I know her well enough. So do you. Sit down and I’ll tell you the whole story.”

  Carrie sat, pulled one knee up and hugged it. “Go on,” she urged. Yet, her dry mouth warned she wouldn’t enjoy what she was about to hear.

  “Once upon a time, my brother shared a relationship with a skanky ho.” Jet pretended to read from an imaginary book. “Miss Skank knew what my baby bro was about when they got together, but when the cops got involved, instead of keeping her fuckin’ mouth shut, she turned on him. He’s over on the other side doing a hefty sentence, and it’s all her fault.” She looked up and smiled. “The moral is don’t fuck with my brother.”

  “I don’t follow you. What was he about?”

  “God, Lang, you are so naïve … or stupid.” Jet rolled her eyes. “Drugs. He was about making money, and his product of choice was cocaine. Understand?”

  Carrie released her knee and lowered her foot to the floor. It wasn’t her fault she hadn’t been raised with druggies and thieves. Rather than argue, she massaged her throat to quell a growing lump. The story had a familiar ring to it. Coincidence or not, she had to know for sure. “W-who is this woman you hate so much?”

  “Let’s just say I’m arranging for you to have a reunion with a good friend.”

  “You, y-you can’t mean Susanna.” Carrie widened her eyes.

  “That’s exactly who I mean. The bitch’ll pay, trust me.”

  Carrie leapt to her feet. “But even you said your brother dealt drugs. You can’t blame Susanna because she didn’t want to take the fall for him. He made the decision to break the law, not her. In fact, she told me how much she loved him until he tried to make it look like she was the guilty one.”

  The point she’d missed in Jet’s tale hit Carrie like a lightning bolt. She covered her mouth to stifle her gasp and cast wide eyes at Jet. “Susanna doesn’t know she was living with your brother, does she?”

  Jet nodded. “No! And you aren’t gonna tell her.”

  “But why me? You and Susanna were inmates together long before I came along. Why didn’t you take care of things yourself?” Carrie searched Jet’s eyes for a glint of compassion, but saw nothing but ice. “I shouldn’t have to get involved in your vengeance.”

  “Why would I want to add to my sentence? I’m worked out the perfect plan that leaves my hands clean—at least from all appearances.” She chuckled.

  Tears blurred Carrie’s vision. She pressed her palms together and placed them beneath her chin. “You can’t ask me to do this. Please, don’t make me.”

  “Too late, Lang. The wheels are already in motion. You’ll be swi
tching cells in the next day or so, and I’ll provide the little gift you’re going to give your friend… of course, she won’t know about it right away.” Jet’s evil cackle bounced off the walls and chilled Carrie to the bone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Carrie shivered beneath the thin prison blanket, unable to sleep. Tossing and turning, she thought only of Jet’s plan to frame Susanna. Questions whirred in her mind. What did Jet hope to achieve? What was the price for concealing a weapon? A week in solitary? A month? Would that be the pound of flesh to even the score? Even if Carrie played a minor role, Susanna was sure to find out. Then what? Would she revert to blackmailing Carrie to exert revenge on Jet?

  Wasn’t being in prison punishment enough? Did she have to get caught in a battle that didn’t concern her? Hugging her knees to her chest, Carrie summoned thoughts of Seth. Maybe she should tell him—seek his help. Tears stung the back of her eyes. But he was a guard. How did she know if she could trust him? Confusion gnawed at her and she rolled over again.

  “For God’s sake, Lang, stop rocking the damn bunk.” Jet’s voice startled Carrie.

  “Sorry. I—”

  “Don’t apologize, just go to sleep. I’m getting seasick down here. What’s your problem anyhow?”

  As if Jet didn’t know. Anger fired Carrie’s blood. How in the heck could her cellmate sleep? Didn’t the woman have a conscience? Not likely. Afraid to voice her opinion, Carrie swallowed the words she really wanted to say. “Just having a bout of insomnia, I guess.”

  “Are you sure it isn’t bad dreams keeping you awake?” Jet cackled. “I can’t wait to see the look on Crane’s face when she’s busted.”

  Ire overcame Carrie’s fear of Jet. “Just shut up about it. It’s bad enough I’ve agreed to something so underhanded, I don’t need to keep hearing you gloat.”

  Silence ensued. Carrie chewed her lip, fearing she’d overstepped a boundary. She froze in place, afraid to move and rumble the bed again. Waiting, she prepared to be chastised, but instead felt the bunk sway and heard the sigh of comfort released by someone snuggling down, preparing for sleep. Anticipation kept her uneasy, but within a few moments, she heard Jet’s soft snores.

  Carrie rolled softly to her back and stared at the vertical shadows the bars cast on the ceiling. Her temples throbbed from stress. She had two choices: do what Jet wanted and feign ignorance, or warn Susanna and do nothing at all. She preferred the second option, but then the price to pay would be hers. Jet wasn’t someone you crossed without some sort of penalty. The woman obviously had connections reaching far beyond the guards. Tears of frustration trickled down the side of Carrie’s face. God, what was she going to do?

  * * * * *

  Carrie gathered with her friends during recreation at their usual table. The others chattered away, but she couldn’t muster up anything to say. Her nerves churned a river of nausea in her stomach. Already she felt like a traitor. Even though Jet sat across the room, holding an open book, her occasional burning glare served as a reminder of her power.

  Susanna dealt cards for a hand of bridge, but stopped before finishing. “Carrie, is something wrong? You aren’t yourself today. Did something happen with Seth?”

  Carrie shook her head. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just have a pounding headache.” She fanned out the cards dealt her, then collapsed them and slapped her stack back on the table. “Would you mind if I passed on playing?”

  “No, as a matter of fact, I’m not much in the mood for a game myself.” She gathered the cards into a pile and pushed them over to Franny. Susanna stood. “Carrie, wanna watch some TV?”

  Fearing spending alone time with Susanna, Carrie cast a wary glance at Jet. That headache she’d faked earlier now pounded with a vengeance. She rose. “No thanks. I think I’ll step out for a breath of air.”

  “Brave girl, it’s chilly out there.” Susanna smiled. “But I suppose you hope you’ll find something … or someone … and warm right up.”

  “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes then walked toward the door considering Susanna’s words. Seth hadn’t even entered Carrie’s mind until now. Small chance he’d be outside if he needn’t be.

  She pulled her jacket tight and pushed open the door. A chilly blast greeted her, but felt refreshing. Gone were the stale odors of mingled inmates, old books, and the musty floorboards of the rec room. She closed her eyes, inhaled, then visualized her slow breath exhaled in a space not confined by bars or steel and barbed wire.

  Carrie crossed her arms against the cold and strolled to the fence. She rested her forehead against an icy chain link and stared through the octagon design. Gone were the rows of cornstalks that earlier in the year filled the far furrows of the garden. The remaining plants were sparse and low-growing—ones that could be covered to protect them from the elements. How she wished for something to protect her.

  “Hey there.” A voice called out.

  She looked to the left, inside the doorway of the gardening shed just outside the fence. Seth!

  “Don’t look at me,” he instructed. “I don’t think the tower guards know I’m in here.”

  “Okay.” She kept her gaze forward.

  “I hoped you’d come outside, but I wasn’t sure you’d brave the cold.”

  She focused far beyond the garden, to the vast empty land and what appeared to be a highway. Funny, she’d never noticed it before. She strained her eyes, leaning harder against the fence, and watched a myriad of colors darting along the horizon; cars turned by distance into tiny toy-like vehicles.

  “You’re being awfully quiet.” His voice drew her thoughts back behind the fence.

  “I just noticed a road out there.”

  “Yeah, that’s the interstate.”

  She sighed. “I wish I was out there on it … heading far away from this hellhole.”

  “Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

  She stuffed her chilled hands into her pockets and made a half turn, still averting her gaze from him. “How can you tell?”

  “Your voice … or the imprint of the fence on your forehead.” He chuckled.

  She rubbed the indention and smiled. His humor warmed her. “I’m just having a bad day, I reckon.” Above her, guards moved about in a turret. A huge raven landed atop the domed roof and flapped his wings, mocking her with his freedom.

  Carrie wanted to spill the whole story and beg for his help, but suspicion niggled at her. She still hadn’t made sense of why a guard would take an interest in one inmate. What did he hope to gain from an incarcerated woman? Despite her attraction to him, a big question mark hung over his head. She craved trust, but a little voice kept asking the same question over and over: Does he play a part in Jet’s conspiracy? Much more evidence supported that theory than the fact he found Carrie interesting enough to risk his career. Maybe she couldn’t ask him for help, but there was one thing she really wanted to know.

  “What prompted you to tell your friend about me?” Feeling the chill through her thin coat, she rocked back and forth on her heels.

  “I believe he may be able to help you. You still maintain that you’re innocent, don’t you?”

  A gusty breeze whipped by. She hunched and shivered. “Of course, I’m innocent, but then I suppose you hear that more times than you can count.”

  Seth covered his mouth to stifle his laughter. “That’s for sure.” His voice turned sober. “But for some reason, I believe you.”

  “I hope you do, because I’m telling the truth. I had nothing to do with robbing a bank.”

  He glanced at his watch. “You’d better get back inside. Rec is almost over.”

  Maybe he did care about her. Did she dare believe that? She hiked her jacket up higher on her neck and turned. “Thanks.” She resisted a backwards glance. “The last thing I need is to lose my privilege to free time again.” She scurried for the door and warmth.

  “See you tomorrow in the garden.” He called after her.

  * * * * *

  Car
rie’s stomach churned. Her hatred at sharing Jet’s space increased with every step closer to the cell. How could that bitch ask her to betray Susanna after they’d become such good friends? More bothersome, how could Carrie entertain the idea of going through with such a betrayal?

  Lost in thought, she started when the guard gave her a push. “Wake up, Lang. You’re home.” The door slid open with a squeal.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, tamping down the urge to shove the woman back. Would the resulting punishment be more than Carrie already bore?

  Jet sauntered in behind her, and the closing door sealed them inside. After stretching out on her bed, Jet, with hands clasped behind her head, cast a steely gaze at Carrie. “How are your little buddies? I noticed you didn’t hang around them much.”

  “They’re fine.” Carrie climbed up on her bunk.

  “Where’d you go?”

  Carrie rolled her eyes. “I don’t feel much like playing twenty questions with you. I’m tired, and I really would like to go to sleep.”

  “What about dinner?”

  “I’m not hungry. I just want to wake up and find out ten years has passed.”

  “Fine.” Jet sounded perturbed. “I’d rather catch up on celebrity news anyhow.” Paper fluttered, indicating she opened one of her magazines. “Did you know that Paul Newman died?”

  “Yes, I heard.” The peace and quiet Carrie craved evidently wasn’t meant to be, but there was no sense in causing an argument. Besides, talking about Hollywood was much better than the alternative. She hung over the bunk’s side and peered down at Jet. “He was one of my favorite actors. I loved him in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.”

  Jet nodded. “Yeah, but I’d rather screw Robert Redford any day.”

  Leave it to Jet to take a simple conversation and turn it into something nasty. Carrie rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Maybe if she stayed perfectly still, Jet would be quiet. Carrie closed her eyes and willed sleep to come. Dinner’s aroma drifting down the hallway made her stomach rumble. Maybe she’d eat first.