by Ray, Marika
The first week of the prison being open had been a rough one. I’d worked at least twelve hours each day, just trying to get everything in order before we were full of transported inmates from neighboring towns. When you got sentenced to jail time, previously, you were taken to a state-run prison in one of the nearby big cities. Auburn Hill wasn’t at all big enough to need their own prison, but the mayor had been quick to accept the offer from a private company to build a private prison here in Hell. Now we had all manner of criminals from surrounding areas headed down Brinestone Way to my facility, just one mile from Main Street.
I walked my naked self—the only way to sleep—to the laundry hamper of clothes in the corner of my bedroom, pawing through to find a clean-ish pair of pants. They weren’t exactly pressed, but beggars can’t be choosers and I was the boss, so I declared I passed inspection. I didn’t have time to do the laundry this week, so sue me. Everything I owned was mostly still in cardboard boxes strewn about the house. Thankfully, the place came furnished or else I probably would have been sleeping on the floor too.
Pulling on a pair of thankfully clean, tight underwear—I didn’t like the goods flying about freely just in case I got in a tussle with someone who didn’t want to spend the night in my fine facility—and my wrinkled pants, I hustled to the bathroom to wash my face and try to get some gel to work a miracle in my hair that hadn’t seen a barber in too long. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I had some gnarly bags forming under my eyes I didn’t appreciate.
I’d gone to get dinner at Hell’s Tavern again last night, barely squeaking in and getting my precious pint before they closed. Only in Auburn Hill does the town bar close at nine o’clock at night on a Thursday. Another guy had been there grumbling about a woman to the bartender. I would have tuned him out, but he was highly talkative, moving over to sit next to me and striking up a conversation. His long hair curled a bit around his neck, grabbing my attention. I’m not one to notice another guy’s hair, but when it borderlines on a mullet, you kind of can’t not notice.
We ended up talking till Nugget kicked us out. I now had an invite from my new buddy, Titus, to hang with him and his friends at a beach bonfire tonight. Finally, a chance to see if this town could work out for my social life. The bags under my eyes would just have to keep for another day. I’d sleep when I was dead.
I threw on a shirt, buttoned it up, and shoved the tails into my pants. My boots were easy to slip on since I didn’t lace them up yet. I’m sure I looked a mess, but these things couldn’t be helped. My keys jangled in my hand while I locked up my rental house and hit my truck. If I gunned it a little, I could get to Coffee for some breakfast and still make it to the prison on time.
The same poor bastard sat on the outdoor porch of Coffee when I pulled up a few minutes later having missed the traffic jam entirely. Since, you know, Auburn Hill never had one. He was a bit disheveled with his wrinkled shirt tails hanging out, but now that I thought about it, he looked no worse than me. Only two people in line meant I was getting breakfast today. My stomach grumbled as I inhaled the scent of coffee and carbs and I apologized to the grandma in front of me when she spun around to eye where the strange noise had come from.
“Sorry, ma’am. Just excited for the bagels here.” I would have tipped my hat if I’d been wearing one. I was really getting into this small-town thing.
She smiled, the lines of her face only adding character to match the twinkle in her eyes. “Nothing wrong with a healthy appetite. Would you say you’re about thirty years old?”
“Uh, yes, ma’am.” Where was she going with this line of questioning?
She clapped her hands, releasing some short hairs into the breeze that came through every time someone opened the door to the coffee shop. Now that I was noticing, she was covered in them, like she tussled with a brown bear before hitting up Coffee.
“Oh, goodie. I know just the one for you.”
“Uh…” I was still drawing a blank. One for what?
“Let me get it all set up and then I’ll meet you at the prison. Sound good?”
“Next!” the irritated, yet bored, teenager called from behind the counter, interrupting the lady, which was just as well. I had no idea what she was “setting up,” but if she met me at the prison, at least I’d have a holding cell all ready to go. She looked like she could use one of those padded ones we kept for the real special guests.
She ordered and moved away to collect her items, but not before giving me a wink and a finger wave. I guess I’d have to take the crazy side of living in a small town, along with the short lines and no traffic jams.
“Onion bagel, toasted, cream cheese, and your largest black coffee to go.”
The kid rang me up, intentionally keeping his gaze away from me. Word got around in a small town and everyone knew who the new warden was even if we hadn’t formally met. Poor kid was probably trying to stay under the radar so I wouldn’t know about the underage drinking that happened at the beach sometimes, or the cliff diving that was strictly forbidden off our bluffs, but the kids did anyway once a year or so.
He handed me my change and was already gesturing to the guy behind me. I took a quick glance at his name badge and memorized his face.
“Thanks for the coffee, Lukas.”
His gaze snapped to mine and I could see the sweat dotting his forehead. Interesting.
I grinned and moved on down the counter to collect my breakfast. I was whistling a Blake Shelton tune by the time I made it to my truck and pulled out onto Main Street and then hooked a left on Brinestone Way. It had been a rough week, but I was making friends and had plans for a bonfire tonight. Things were looking up.
* * *
“You have a message from the mayor on your landline and an appointment at nine with Chief Waldo.” Meadow rattled off my daily activities while I got settled in my office, which consisted of mostly throwing my things down and digging into my bagel. Caffeine and carbs: the lifeblood of the American work force.
“Oh, and there was an issue with the overnight staff. One of the cells malfunctioned and Gary, the guy who was arrested for spitting tobacco on the sidewalk in front of City Hall, just walked right out the back door.”
The half-eaten bagel froze in the air halfway to my mouth. Open less than a week and I already had a prison break? Jesus H. Christ. This was how wardens got fired. A glob of cream cheese fell out of my bagel sandwich, sliding off the ledge of my desk and onto my lap, pulling me out of my thoughts. Meadow stood there wringing her hands as if she was personally responsible for the lock not working or the inmate escaping.
I plopped the bagel back on the crumpled paper bag it came in and wiped my hands on a napkin. Suddenly I wasn’t hungry.
“Get the locksmith company on the phone ASAP. Then call Chief Waldo and let him know about the situation. No. Wait. I’ll call him. Just—just get the locksmith over here.”
She practically ran out of the room and closed the door firmly behind her.
I fired up my computer and got ready to document the whole thing. No use trying to hide it. Everyone would find out anyway, so I better get the whole thing documented like I was supposed to. Maybe the mayor would have mercy on me and not fire me on the spot.
I took a big swig of my coffee, clicked open my email, and scrolled absently, stopping on an email from a Lucille Eureka. The name sounded familiar and it was only as I clicked on the email that I put two and two together and realized it was the crazy lady from next door at the fertility clinic.
The email opened, and for the second time in five minutes, I was stunned. My jaw dropped open and some of the coffee I hadn’t swallowed yet dribbled down onto my shirt.
In twenty point, bolded font, the email read:
Keep your inmates away or I’ll go public with your sample.
And there, below the threat, was a picture of an orange specimen cup with a white lid. The label on the side said Sample #264, Bain Sutter.
“Well, shit.”
> I bolted out of my chair, sending it rolling back so hard and so fast, it hit the wall and tipped over, making a horrible racket. Meadow peeked her head in and I whipped my hand out to the side in her general direction. My jaw clenched so tight I couldn’t get words out. She took the hint and clicked the door shut again, leaving me to the red-hot anger that threatened to take over all rational thought.
How dare that woman blackmail me?
And what an idiot! She put her blackmail note in an email from her damn computer. Wouldn’t take a computer genius to track down the origin and prove she was the one blackmailing me. Then again, there was some degree of brilliance there because causing legal trouble for her over her threat would mean exposing myself. Which she knew I wouldn’t do.
I paced my office, thinking it through, needing the physical activity to eat away at the anger that wanted me to walk over to her clinic right now and destroy that sample. Destroy her business. And destroy her.
Twelve years working at prisons and jails. Twelve years of dealing with assholes and inmates. Druggies and idiots. Entitled rich folk and conniving schemers. And not once had any of them gotten under my skin or threatened me so well as that little turtleneck nun with the nice rack.
An odd feeling crept up my spine and into my brain, forcing me to examine it despite my resistance. My face felt hot, but not from rage. Sure, I was madder than hell, but there was something else niggling in the background.
Shame. Embarrassment. Mortification.
I decided right then and there I didn’t like that feeling at all. I had nothing to be ashamed of, goddammit. I’d given a sample to help women conceive the child they’d always dreamed of. Yeah, yeah, it had been a stupid dare, but as far as the public needed to know, it was for the future children of America. Miss Priss was the one who should be ashamed of herself. Blackmailing a law enforcement official? Downright insane. Certifiable.
A flash of movement perforated the red haze of anger and embarrassment. I walked over to the huge window in my office before I knew what my legs were doing. There, sitting without a care in the world, was the woman who was currently at the eye of the storm in my life.
Lucille had on yet another blouse cut high on her neck. This time, you could see her arms and I confirmed she wasn’t actually allergic to the sun. She should think about wearing less clothing more often. Perhaps the lack of vitamin D was causing her brain to malfunction and slide into a life of blackmail and extortion.
The skirt covered the length of her legs, the dark material highlighting how pale she really was. She sipped from a tiny white cup, probably Earl Grey, the most basic tea imaginable. A second later she put the cup down and leapt up to wave her arms maniacally at an innocent seagull who dared sit on the back retaining wall. Didn’t she know we lived at the beach? This was a seagull’s natural environment. They had just as much right to be here as we did.
She shook her fist in the air when he swooped around in a circle and settled back on the same spot on the wall. A chuckle broke free at the sight of her obvious irritation.
And that’s when my caffeine and carbs finally kicked in, providing the spark I needed to solve at least one of my problems today.
I needed to fight back.
I needed to play dirty just like her.
Maybe then she’d learn a valuable lesson.
You didn’t mess with Bain Sutter.
7
Bain
The day had gone similarly shit-tacular from there, ending with a strained conversation with the mayor once Gary-the-spitter was apprehended yet again and escorted to a different cell. My faith in the locksmith had been shaken so badly that even after he fixed the lock and I made him go one by one to lock himself in each cell to prove the locks worked, I zip-tied Gary’s cell closed. When all else fails, use zip ties. A shitty life motto, but it served me well today.
But that was all behind me. I still had my job, maybe not my pride, but I did have social plans that evening and that was the only thing buoying me up at this point. I took a quick shower to wash the day off me, trading in my taupe uniform with the cream cheese and coffee stains for a pair of dark wash jeans, boots, and a faded green long-sleeved Henley. The days were getting warm here in the spring, but the nights, especially right on the water, were still quite chilly. For good measure and to show I still had hope for the day, I sprayed a bit of cologne on and shot myself two pistols into the image in the mirror staring back at me. Saddle up, cowboy, we have some socializing to do.
I grabbed my keys and ran out the door, stopping and retracing my steps to lock my front door, then hit my truck for a quick ride to the beach. Just as Titus had described, a mile past the bluffs there was a pullout, currently jammed with every make and model car you could imagine and including one John Deere tractor.
I whistled through my teeth as I edged my truck onto the shoulder, but not in danger of scraping the side of the tractor. “We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.”
The wind buffeted my door the second I opened it. The sun was just setting into the ocean, casting the hillside in an orange glow. I put my hands on my hips, admiring the view and gulping in the fresh air. Life could hand me a shitstick for dinner and, yet, if I could catch that orange ball dipping into the water every night, I’d die a lucky man.
I waited until the last sliver of the sun faded into the sparkling gray-blue ocean and then I found the trail that led to the beach below. The beaches here in Auburn Hill were very different than the few I’d visited in Southern California where the sand stretched as far as the eye could see. Here you had cliffs, rocks, and very small sand banks. The way the beaches were set into the hillside, we didn’t have a whole lot of tourists down below. The hike was too steep and the rocks were liable to roll the second you stepped on them if you didn’t know what you were doing.
I heard some good-natured hollers as I got lower, carefully picking my way down the hill in the last bit of daylight. A quick switchback and my boots sank into the sand. A huge bonfire within a six-foot-wide concrete ring blazed, lighting up the beach and pumping out some much-needed heat.
A familiar raven-haired beauty stood up and held her red plastic cup high in the air. The crowd seated on logs and blankets all around the fire started shouting and clapping. With a flourish, she brought the cup to her lips and slowly chugged, tilting her head back the further into the cup she got. When the thing was empty, she pulled it away from her mouth, tipped it upside down, and curtsied to the cheers of her friends.
Well, hello, Friday night.
Small towns knew how to party better than any big city I’d lived in, that was for damn sure. But unfortunately, that woman was off-limits. The chief’s daughter I’d seen at the Tavern earlier in the week. I didn’t need that kind of trouble as the new guy.
I worked my way to the group, spotting my new friend Titus when he pulled the lady down next to him on a blanket. Considering he’d been crying in his beer over a woman, I could only imagine this was her. I’d have to find out who was single and who was taken in this group. Didn’t want to get my flirt on with one of the ladies and find out she was already seeing someone. The dangers of being the new guy in town.
“Oh hey, Bain!” Titus waved to me and then hopped up. “Glad you could make it.”
When he reached me, he spun around and slapped me on the back and yelled to get everyone’s attention.
“Quiet down, Hell Raisers. This is Bain. He’s the new warden in town and I invited him to join you losers, so don’t make me regret it.”
I glanced around, seeing smiles and open, friendly faces. They all said hello and another guy hopped up to grab a red cup and fill it from the keg. His hair was dark and on the shaggy side like he had a thing for male pop stars, but any guy handing me a free beer was all right in my book. He extended the cup and I took it, nodding and mumbling my thanks.
“Rip. Nice to meet you.” His expression was stern and he sounded serious, but in a nonaggressive way. First impressions were my specialty.
As law enforcement, you had to make snap decisions about who people were and what their motives might be. I’d say Rip was a good guy underneath that mop of hair and scruffy beard.
“Thanks, man. It’s nice to finally meet some people my age.” We shook hands and then Titus pushed me into the circle.
I sat down in the sand next to his blanket, figuring I knew him best out of all of them, so it made sense to stick close. The chief’s daughter, who’d chugged a beer, gave a little giggle and scooted closer, leaving poor Titus to take the other side of the blanket.
“Hey there, Bain. I heard about you this morning from Lenora’s brother, Lukas.” I didn’t follow the connection, but she kept right on going. “I’m Amelia, by the way.”
She put her hand on my arm, which I guessed was her way of shaking hands.
“Lukas didn’t tell me how handsome you are, though.”
I looked away from her hand and back at her face, seeing her eyes promising all kinds of things. Before I could respond, Titus nudged her hard and she took her hand off my arm to keep from falling over.
“Watch it, Titus!”
“Sorry, Lia. Just thought I saw a spider.”
Amelia turned back to me and rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “I swear. He’s some hotshot contractor, but a little spider will freak him right out.”
Someone sat down next to me on my other side, drawing my attention away from Amelia. A brunette with shoulder-length hair and a tepid smile.
“Hi, Bain. I’m Lenora. If you ever need a lift, I’m your gal.”
I quirked my head to the side. “A lift?”
Her smile grew. “Yeah. I’m the only Uber driver in all of Auburn Hill.” She leaned in a little closer, though I got the feeling she wasn’t flirting with me. Not like Amelia. “I have seen some things that’d make your hair curl.”