First Degree Innocence (11 page)

Before long, two older women were escorted to the area and still everyone remained silent. Speak when spoken to, move when told; that seemed to be the stance all inmates took. Carrie felt certain everyone heard her heart pounding.

The door opened out, letting bright morning sunlight cascade into the kitchen. Carrie shielded her eyes and tried to focus on the male outlined in the glare. A smile tugged at her lips when her vision adjusted and her gaze rested on Seth’s handsome face.

“Good Morning, Ladies. Are we ready to harvest some vegetables and plant some new ones?”

He looked right past her. The personal acknowledgement she expected didn’t happen, even though she was first in line. Disappointment plucked at her and stole her smile. When he motioned, she walked outside.

“Line up by the fence, please.”

She wanted to glance over her shoulder, but didn’t. Instead she focused on the waving corn stalks beyond the gate and inhaled the crisp morning air. He wasn’t the only benefit to working outside. Was he?

Seth came to the gate and inserted a key into a huge lock. Her breath hitched at his nearness and she tried to ignore the aroma of his aftershave. Her brain screamed she was acting the fool, but her heart wouldn’t listen. Why had he led her to believe he liked her? Had he even done that or had she imagined it? She squared her shoulders and stared at the garden through blurry eyes.

Before allowing anyone through the opening, he glanced up at the guard tower and waved. Outside the compound, two armed male guards waited next to a stack of gardening implements. Carrie sighed and waited for instructions. This was the first time since becoming an inmate she’d actually seen someone carrying a firearm. The matrons carried batons and pepper spray, and that was intimidating enough. This wasn’t at all what she expected.

Seth gave her a nudge and she moved outside the gate. Her feet sunk into the soft earth, and the wind, unrestricted by the buildings, whipped her ponytail around. No cement blocks, no steel bars, unlimited sunlight—it was heaven. Funny, she’d not noticed how wonderful freedom was until she’d lost it.

She gazed at the acres of flat landscape that seemed to spread to the end of the earth, and recalled what Jet had said about escape. Where would someone run? Was anyone that foolish? Amidst the clanging of rakes and shovels, her gaze flashed to the tower then to the armed guards. Shooting a fleeing prisoner would be easy from their vantage point.

Seth began passing out the tools. As the other inmates wandered toward the garden, he handed her a hoe. “You aren’t thinking of running are you?” His voice was a mere whisper. “I know you wouldn’t and miss out on a chance for us to get to know one another better.” With a brusque turn, he went back and joined his peers.

Her heart hammered. She hadn’t been mistaken. But run? Even if he never said another word to her, she wasn’t that stupid. Prison was far from the best place to be, but it certainly beat out the idea of being on the wrong side of the grass.

Chapter Eleven

Carrie returned from the garden, dirty and smelling of perspiration. As soon as the steel door slammed shut, she sagged against it. “That was a reward?”

Stretched out on her bottom bunk, Jet peered up from a romance magazine. “What’s the matter? Can’t take a little outside recreation without whining?”

“I’ve earned the right to whine.” Carrie stomped over, sat on the edge of the bed and displayed her blistered palms. “See?”

“Why didn’t you ask for gloves, dummy?”

“I-I didn’t know I could. I just assumed—”

“That’s your problem,” Jet snapped. “You always assume. Why are you always so spineless?” With a dismissing wave, Jet went back to reading.

Carrie rolled her eyes. She’d never met anyone as moody as Jet—all smiles one minute and the next, a blazing stare boring holes through you. Daring to invite the woman’s wrath, Carrie cleared her throat. “Is it too early for a shower?”

Jet kept reading. “Push the button and tell them to unlock the door.”

Carrie swallowed hard. Me? Push the button? And do what? Tell Ogden what to do? Visions of the guard’s beady eyes flashed through her mind. “Never mind, I’ll wait until later.”

She crossed to the sink, ran cold water over her work-worn palms, and winced at the sting. With her eyes closed, she envisioned Seth’s face. Her lips stretched into a smile. She and Seth hadn’t enjoyed much interaction today, but who knew? Maybe tomorrow would be better. Regardless, being close to him stirred inexplicable feelings. She opened her eyes and stared at her wavy reflection in the tin mirror. Could she be wrong about trusting him?

“I thought you were going to take a shower?”

Carrie inhaled a gasp. “Geez, you startled me. I guess you didn’t hear me when I said I decided to wait.” She snared her towel from the end of the bunk and patted her hands dry, grimacing as the terry cloth snagged on her blisters.

Jet swiveled and planted her feet on the floor, then shook her head. “You’re such a pussy. Why not just admit you’re afraid to push the button and ask for something?”

“I am not!” Carrie’s outburst surprised even her. She took a calming breath. “I don’t have the same kind of pull around here you do. Just because I’m not comfortable ordering the guards around does not mean I’m-I’m… what you said.”

“Okay, Okay, don’t get huffy about it. If you want a shower, I’ll take care of it. Besides, I could do with a shower and shave myself. My pubes are starting to itch.”

The woman had no couth but was a constant enigma. Carrie raised her brow. “If you don’t mind me asking, why do you shave down there?”

Jet shrugged. “Just a habit I got into with my old boyfriend. He said carpet munching wasn’t his idea of fun.”

Carrie’s cheeks warmed. “I’m sorry I asked. That’s more information than I wanted.” She ran her hand over her own shin. “Can I get a razor, too?”

“No problem. I’ll have Ogden get us clean towels and bring us each one of those cheesy plastic shavers. I guess they figure we can’t do too much damage with them as long as they make sure the blade is still in it when we turn it back in.”

The exaggerated slashing motion Jet made across her own throat sent a shiver through Carrie.

* * * * *

Jet still languished in the shower, her body a mass of soap suds. Carrie dried her hair then wrapped herself in her towel. As she stood before the sink and fluffed damp curls into place, she glanced at her cellmate. “Why aren’t we subjected to having a guard watch over us while we shower?”

Water streamed down Jet’s face. “I told you there are some things you are better off not knowing. Just enjoy the fact that you get more privacy when you’re with me. You don’t have any complaints do you?”

Carrie shook her head. “None about not having a guard ogle me while I’m naked, but I have lots of complaints about even being here.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re innocent. I know that, but bottom line…you’re stuck.

“Well, I don’t have to like it.” Carrie walked to the dressing area where her clean clothes waited.

“When you’re dressed, wait up,” Jet called. “I have something for you.”

Carrie slipped into clean underwear and pants then shimmied into her matching top. After pulling on freshly washed socks, she slipped her feet back into her rubber slip-ons. She sat on the bench, staring into her lap, and wondered what sort of surprise Jet intended to spring on her now.

“Give me a minute, and I’ll be ready.” Jet sashayed past, wearing nothing but a towel on her head, her newly shaven pubic area at Carrie’s eye level.

Carrie winced and turned away. “A little modesty goes a long way, you know.”

“Oh, don’t be such a prude. I don’t have anything you don’t.” Jet quickly donned clean orange peels and splayed her fingers through her damp hair. “I’m ready. Are you hungry?”

Carrie’s stomach rumbled. “I’m starved…even for the slop they feed us here.” She hadn’t eaten all day, forgoing breakfast in her eagerness to see Seth again.

Jet led the way out into the hall. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised with what I’ve had delivered to our cell. I arranged it while you were out this morning.”

Picking up the pace, Carrie moved as fast as her flip-flops allowed. She reached their barred cubicle first then covered her gaping mouth. She lowered her hand and turned toward Jet. “How—”

“Never mind. Just enjoy.”

Carrie dashed for the McDonald’s bag on the edge of her bunk and tore into it. She widened her eyes at the Big Mac and fries she found inside. “Oh, I’ve died and gone to heaven, haven’t I?”

“No, you’re still alive. This is just a perk to being my cellmate. Remember, I promised you good things.” Jet reached for the tall cup sitting on the sink and handed it to Carrie. “Coke?”

Stuffing a fry into her mouth, Carrie nodded and smiled while ripping into burger wrapping. The sweet smell of fast food permeated the air and brought back memories of outside the prison walls. She sunk her teeth into the fresh sesame-seed bun, feeling sauce squirt into the corners of her mouth. Lettuce crunched and the wonderful taste of special sauce tickled her taste buds. She sighed.

“Good?”

“Heavenly. Who would have thought a hamburger—” She crammed another bite into her mouth.

Jet chuckled. “There’s more where that came from, as long as you and I continue to see eye-to-eye on things.”

Carrie’s food stuck in her throat, and she swallowed hard. She grabbed the cup from Jet and took a long draw from the straw, allowing the sweet liquid to wash down the clog. How much longer could she remain in Jet’s good graces? Carrie had no intention of doing anything that was going to extend her stay in this horrible place. If only she knew how to get out of her cellmate’s grasp.

Hunger overrode her concern and she savored another French fry. Although not piping hot, it tasted great. She sank onto the edge of Jet’s bunk and took another bite of hamburger. This was definitely a perk, but not one worth risking her life. Still, she wasn’t willing to forgo the food she held. She peered up at Jet. “Thanks. This is a real treat.” Despite her mother’s teaching, Carrie spoke with a full mouth.

* * * * *

Thankful that Jet broke away in the recreation room and headed for another group, Carrie made a beeline for her friends. Rather than the warm greeting she expected, their icy stares focused on her new blue outfit.

“Hey, ladies.” She greeted them as though she hadn’t noticed.

Susanna, sitting at the end of the bench, fingered the hem of Carrie’s blouse. “So, what did you do that was special enough to earn these?”

Feeling her cheeks warm, Carrie stepped back. “I’m not sure what you’re insinuating.”

Susanna’s hand fisted on the table top and her eyes narrowed. “I’ve been working in that crummy kitchen for months, and I’ve yet to find the kind of freedom you found in a few friggin weeks. That’s what I mean.”

“Would you mind scooting down?” Carrie smiled at Ruthie and lowered herself on the bench’s edge, opposite Susanna. “I didn’t do anything at all, but I think you probably already knew that.” She gazed around the group. “What was I supposed to do, tell Jet no? You all warned me not to cross her.”

Helen nodded. “She’s right, we did. I’m not so sure I would have turned down a trustee position.”

Susanna’s face softened. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just jealous.” She reached across the table and grasped Carrie’s hand. “So tell us, how is it? Have you had a chance to talk to him, yet?”

Carrie smiled. “Not really. I’ve only been out in the garden for one day, and believe me, it wasn’t all that much fun.” She held up her palms. “I’d forgotten how much blisters hurt. I haven’t had one since I played on the monkey bars in elementary school.”

Susanna cast a cautious glance around the room then leaned toward Carrie. “Honestly, did you have to bargain with Jet?”

Carrie shook her head. “Not yet, anyway.” She whispered so only those at the table could hear. “Jet has something up her sleeve, but I don’t know what. She won’t tell me until she’s ready. I’ve played along so far, but I’m worried about what to do when the time comes to sing or get off the stage.”

Susanna patted her hand. “Be careful. Remember, she doesn’t play fair… or nice.”

Carrie nodded. If only she knew how to get out of her cellmate’s grasp.

Chapter Twelve

The morning crept by and the sun turned relentless. Carrie, with gloved hands, hoed a furrow at the garden’s edge. Her back ached, but stealing an occasional glance at Seth’s handsome face made the pain worthwhile. Shaking off her silly school-girl notions, she concentrated on keeping her row straight.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped and turned.

Seth stood with a large thermos. “Water?”

Resting the hoe in the crook of her arm, she snared a paper cup from atop the container and filled it. Her breath hitched when her hand grazed his. She raised the receptacle to her lips and drank. Lowering the cup, she released a loud breath. “Thank you, I needed that.”

“Take Five.” Another guard’s gravelly voice called a rest period.

Other workers scurried to the fence, sat and rested against it. Carrie finished her water and refilled her cup. Her gaze sought some reaction from Seth. “I feel as dry as this dirt.” She turned the cup bottom’s up, drained it, then searched for the trash.

With a smile that put her at ease and made the temperature even warmer, he held out a plastic bag. She tossed the wadded paper inside then fidgeted with the hoe, wondering why he affected her so.

“It’s rest time.” He took the garden tool from her. “Why don’t you go sit for a few minutes?”

She shook her head. “If I do, I’ll never get up again. This is exhausting work.”

He glanced over his shoulder then back to her. “So tell me, Miss Carrie. What did you do to land in this place?”

She shrugged. “Does it really matter?”