Give Me a Reason (2 page)

Before starting the tour, John quickly introduced Laura to
the old man sitting behind the desk. As with most bail hostels, or Approved
Premises as they were now being called, several of the residents had strict
curfews. During the week, it was Martin’s job to keep track of who came and
went, while at night and on the weekends, other retired prison officers took
his place.

Rail thin and with his scraggy face displaying a two-day-old
stubble of stark white hair, Martin grumbled a curt hello before looking back
at the daily tabloid he held in his withered hands.

Rolling his eyes at the watchman’s gruffness, John led Laura
through a large doorway to the right of the entry as he explained that the two
lower levels of Calloway held the staff offices, classrooms and community areas
while the upper four floors housed the residents. Believing that part of their
rehabilitation involved giving the women their privacy, although he and a few
other employees were allowed to visit those who lived above their heads, he
made it clear that unless she was invited, there was no need for Laura to travel
higher than the second floor.

Nodding in agreement, it wasn’t until they came to a stop
just inside the doorway when Laura took in her surroundings. Three large sofas
filled the middle of the room while a pool table stood in one corner with a
Ping-Pong table in another. Vending machines were lined up along the back wall,
and to her left, from floor to ceiling was a battered bookcase, its shelves
dotted with a sparse collection of paperbacks.

Going over to it, Laura tilted her head to scan some of the titles
and was surprised to see that most were fiction, and by the appearance of their
covers, they had been read hundreds of times. “These have seen better days,”
she said.

“Yes, they have,” John said, motioning for her to follow as
he walked from the recreation area. “Unfortunately, most of the funding we
receive has to be used to cover the cost of school books, food and salaries, so
when it comes to the non-essentials, it’s up to us to find them. All the books
in there were either donated or left behind by someone when they moved out.
Part of our job is to drum up more donations, so I hope you’re ready to spend a
great deal of your time on the phone.”

Smiling, Laura said, “I am.”

“Good.”

“John?”

“Yes?”

“Where is everyone?” she asked, glancing around the empty
lobby. “I know you told me that the residents had to have jobs or be in class,
but I expected to see at least a few stragglers.”

“Not a chance,” John said, leading Laura to a corridor on the
other side of the room. “Most of the women here know that we offer a hell of a
lot more than most bail hostels. We’re giving them a free education and a
chance at a better life if they apply themselves, so most take our rules fairly
seriously.”

Walking down the expansive hallway, John stopped in front of
a desk tucked into a small alcove. Sitting behind it was a woman in her
mid-fifties with strawberry blonde hair.

“Laura MacLeod, let me introduce you to our office manager,
administrative assistant and saving grace, Irene Dixon,” John said. “Without
her, I’d be lost.”

Dismissing his compliment with a shake of her head, Irene
extended her hand. “Welcome to Calloway House, Miss MacLeod.”

“Call me Laura, and it’s very nice to meet you. John’s told
me a bit about you. He says that you run Calloway, but they gave him the title.”

Laughing, Irene’s cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. “Oh,
well, I don’t know about that. I just try to do my best.”

The phone on her desk rang and Irene excused herself to
answer it, allowing John to continue the tour. Continuing past a few doors, when
he came to one opposite another stairway, he opened it and ushered Laura
inside.

“This is your office,” he said, adjusting the blinds to let
the sunlight wash over the room.

“Wow!” Laura said, her eyes opening to their fullest at the
sight of the spacious office. About to express her delight, she stopped when
the room was filled with the sound of chirping.

Quickly pulling his mobile from his pocket, John silenced the
alarm. “Sorry, but I’ve got an appointment in a few minutes,” he said, placing
her laptop case on the desk. “Why don’t we meet in my office at noon, and I’ll
introduce you to the rest of the staff and finish the tour. Okay?”

“That works for me,” Laura said. “See you later.”

As soon as John left, Laura returned her attention to her new
office. In addition to the massive desk opposite the door, fronted by two
upholstered chairs, several file cabinets filled one wall, and a small leather
sofa ran along another. With the slightest hint of fresh paint in the air,
Laura assumed the light mauve coating on the walls was new, and the wood
flooring appeared to have been scrubbed and polished until it shined.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but these just came for you,” Irene
said as she walked in carrying a vase filled with roses.

“Oh my,” Laura said, blushing slightly at the amount of
long-stemmed reds. “They’re lovely.”

“Yes, they are.” Placing the vase on the desk, Irene leaned
closer to inhale the fragrance, but before she could take another sniff, the
phone in the outer office began to ring. “Oh, I’d better get that. Call me if
you need anything.”

“I will. Thanks,” Laura said, plucking the card from the
roses. Reading the words inside, her face spread into a smile.

Good luck on your first day. I know you’ll be brilliant!
Love, Duane

***

Before she left Calloway that night, John had introduced
Laura to four of the members of the teaching staff, explaining that the missing
part-time teacher was at his regular job, while the other full-time teacher had
been unavoidably detained.

The first to meet the new department head was Susan Grant. A
tall woman with blonde hair, Susan taught mathematics and accounting skills to
their residents, and upon being introduced to Laura, she warmly shook her hand
and welcomed her on board.

Next was Jack Sturges. An imposing figure of a man, although
not terribly tall, he was broad-shouldered and brooding. He sported a flattop
crew cut of salt-and-pepper hair, and adding to his menacing appearance was a
jagged scar running down the right side of his face. Responsible for teaching history
and languages, Laura was impressed to hear him move from Spanish to Italian to
French and then to German effortlessly.

When she was introduced to Charlie Cummings, it was all Laura
could do to keep her smile to a minimum. A portly man in his mid-forties,
without the bright-red suspenders holding up his trousers, she feared that they
would hit the floor in an instant. Hired on as a handyman, when John noticed
the women asking Charlie questions about home maintenance and the like, he
convinced the contractor to add teaching to his repertoire. Now, two days a
week, he instructed the ladies of the house in basic home and automotive
repair…and he enjoyed every minute of it.

Last was Bryan O’Neill, the youngest member of the teaching
staff. Dressed in jeans and a red polo shirt, he shook Laura’s hand eagerly,
his grin toothy and his blue eyes smiling back at her like a puppy awaiting a
treat. In charge of the classes on computer technology and sciences, Bryan had
been handpicked by John when they had met at a teaching conference one year
earlier. Fresh out of university and unemployed, Bryan had attended almost
every seminar given that week and John had taken notice. Even though the young
man’s experience was lacking, his dedication to his profession was not, and
before the conference had ended, Bryan had a job.

In the early hours of the evening, Laura left work, but only
after filling her attaché with various reports and schedules that would keep
her awake until late that night. As she grabbed her teachers’ personnel files
and stuffed them in her case, she wondered why she could only find five.
 

Chapter Two

By mid-week, Laura MacLeod was awash in paperwork. Trying to
find some rhyme or reason in the filing system, old files and new ones were now
scattered about her office as if a tornado had just visited.

Hearing a knock on her door, Laura shouted, “Come in,” as she
continued to sort through paperwork, only stopping when she heard the door
open. Looking over her shoulder, she saw John grinning back at her.

Puffing out a bit of air to blow a strand of hair from her
cheek, she said, “Hiya, John.”

“So, you making sense of all this yet?”

“Give me another week and then ask me that question.”

“I heard you met Christopher yesterday. How’d it go?”

“Oh, he’s a sweetie,” she said, standing straight. “And I’m
told the women love him.”

“Yes, they do. He’s quite a charmer, that one.”

Pausing for a moment as she remembered the soft-voiced man
with curly blond hair, she said, “So, is he as gay as I think he is?”

“I believe they call it flaming,” John said with a hearty
guffaw. “Luckily, no one here seems to care, and the students absolutely adore
his wit and his cooking skills.”

Dusting off her hands, Laura said, “John, when am I going to
meet...ah...” Pushing some files aside, Laura looked at the notes she had
written the night before. “Antoinette Vaughn?”

Thinking for a moment, he asked, “You have any plans after
work today?”

“Nothing comes to mind. Why?”

“Well, Connie is out of town visiting one of the kids. How
about you and I go get something to eat and I’ll fill you in?”

“Sounds like a date to me.”

***

As their dinner plates were cleared from the table, Laura
leaned back in her chair. The evening had been pleasant, filled with easy
conversation and a delicious meal, but through it all the subject of her
missing teacher had yet to be brought up. Eyeing her boss, Laura said, “Okay,
John, you’ve stalled long enough. Tell me about Antoinette Vaughn.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, he signaled the waiter for more
coffee and then returned his gaze to Laura. “She’s probably one of the most
gifted teachers I’ve ever known,” he said quietly. “She has the ability to
light a spark in a student, and like a wildfire, it spreads through the room,
and before too long, everyone is chiming in on whatever it is they’re
discussing. It’s really quite amazing to watch. The women flock to her classes,
and if there’s one person in Calloway that has the respect of each and every
resident, it’s Toni Vaughn.”

Something in the tone of John’s voice piqued Laura’s
interest. “And why’s that?”

“Because she was once one of them.”

Raising an eyebrow, Laura processed the information. “What
was she in prison for?”

Knowing that when he hired Laura, they would eventually have
this conversation, there was no reason for John to hesitate any longer. His
eyes met hers, and in a tone filled with sorrow, he said, “Murder.”

Before Laura could say a word, John reached down into his
briefcase and extracted a manila folder which he slid across the table. Getting
to his feet, he said, “Why don’t you give that a read while I visit the gents?”

As John walked away, Laura opened the file and lost herself
in what it contained. Filled with information on Antoinette Vaughn’s
background, education and work history, before Laura reached the last page, she
was impressed...and she was confused.

A short time later, John returned to the table. Noticing
Laura’s slack-jawed expression, he grinned. “Not what you were expecting was
it?”

“No,” she said, closing the folder. “Please don’t take this
the wrong way, but I find it hard to believe that with her credentials, she’d
want to work at Calloway. I would think that at least one university in this
country would give her another chance.”

“There are dozens who tried to hire her, but she refused them
all.” Taking a quick gulp of coffee, he leaned toward Laura, keeping his voice
low as he began to explain the history of one Antoinette Vaughn. “Do you
remember...well, let’s see...about six years ago, a story in the paper about a
professor arrested for murder?”

Shaking her head, Laura said, “No, but I had just moved here
and was busy trying to get settled. I honestly don’t think I even looked at a
newspaper for months.”

“Well, as you’ve already read in that file, Toni came from an
affluent family and was quite the prodigy, finishing two years ahead of her
class before going to university. By the time she was twenty-five, she was a
published author
and
a respected professor at
one of the finest universities this country has to offer. It didn’t seem like
anything could stop her, but a few months after her second book hit the stands,
her life took an unexpected turn.”

“How so?”

“She received a call late one night from a close friend who
owned a club in Stoke Newington. Apparently, the woman’s car wouldn’t start,
and since she needed to go to the night depository to drop off that day’s
earnings, and didn’t feel safe calling a taxi, she called a friend instead.
Toni drove to the club, but when she went inside, she found the woman being
assaulted by a man. Toni apparently tried to pull him away, but he was too
strong, so she picked up a chair and struck him with it. It shattered, and a
part of it lodged in his neck.”

“Jesus,” Laura said under her breath.

“Toni tried to stop the bleeding, and her friend called for
help, but by the time anyone got there, the man had already bled out. They gave
the local constabulary their story, but when the police found the surveillance
video machine from the club empty, and it was discovered that the dead man was
an off-duty copper who had visited the club several times for possible drug
violations, things seemed to go from bad to worse. Toni was arrested the next
morning, and before the year was out, she was sentenced to life for murdering
Harlan Leavitt.”

“Life? Then how did she get out of prison?”

After signaling the waiter to bring yet more coffee, John
said, “A little over two years ago, a police officer by the name of Gordon
Jacoby was killed in a car accident while driving home from work. When his
supervisor went to clean out his locker, he found two video tapes, and not
knowing their contents, he took it upon himself to watch them. They were the
missing tapes from the night Leavitt was killed.”

“But how—”

“Jacoby had been Leavitt’s partner, and he was one of the first
officers to arrive that night. He apparently stole the tapes in order to
protect Leavitt’s reputation and just never got rid of them. Needless to say,
they proved Toni’s innocence, but unfortunately, the damage had already been
done.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was in Thornbridge,” he said quietly.

Cocking her head to the side, Laura said, “I’m sorry, John,
but I’ve never heard of a prison called Thornbridge.”

“Actually, I’m not surprised,” he said, leaning back in his
chair. “It was a medium-sized facility in the north of England that was opened
in the late sixties, and then privatized about twenty years ago. It was meant
to house only the criminally insane, the women deemed too unstable to be among
the general prison population, but Fagan and Dent had other ideas.”

“Fagan and Dent?”

“The company that ran it.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, the more prisoners you have the more money you make,
and since Thornbridge had a lot of empty cells and our prisons were
overflowing, Fagan and Dent began taking in the worst of the worst. It was a
maximum security facility, and what better place to send the dregs of society
than to a prison so far away that they could easily be forgotten. Nobody cared
about the women incarcerated in that place, so eventually Thornbridge slipped
under the radar.”

“In what way?” Laura asked cautiously.

“I’m afraid Thornbridge became the last bastion for those
with the spare-the-rod, spoil-the-prisoner mentality. Since no one was watching
them, the guards could do whatever they liked.”

“I don’t like the sound of this, John. How long did it go
on?”

“Too long,” he said, hanging his head. Thinking back to the
reports he had read, he closed his eyes and tried to rid himself of the images,
but they were there forever. Taking a deep breath, he looked up and offered
Laura a sympathetic grin. “Where was I?”

“You said it had gone on too long.”

“Right,” he said with a nod. “Well, due to their sentences or
mental instability, it was rare that an inmate ever left Thornbridge, but there
were a few. One woman...oh what the hell was her name?” he grumbled, pausing to
take a sip of coffee. “Oh, yes...Lucy. Lucy, that was it. This woman, Lucy, was
visiting her probation officer and during their meeting, he noticed some scars
on her arms. He mentioned them, and she told him that she had been punished by
the guards for something or another. Now Lucy, poor thing, wasn’t the sharpest
tool in the shed, and she had no idea that the
punishment
she had received wasn’t
normal
prison policy.
Fortunately, her probation officer knew better. He informed the authorities
immediately, and as they say, the snowball started rolling down the hill.”

“What happened?”

“An undercover officer was sent inside, and in less than a
month, the doors to Thornbridge were closed. Many of the officers were arrested
and are now serving time in prison for their crimes, and those that
aren’t…well, they’re probably stocking shelves in your local supermarket.”

Although she was afraid to ask the next question, she did.
“What kind of crimes?”

John’s shoulders slumped. “Extended periods of time in
solitary and—”

“What do you mean
extended
?”

“I heard weeks, possibly months.”

“Oh, my God…”

“And there were beatings, many of which ended with the
prisoner in the infirmary.”

“Jesus Christ!” Laura blurted. “How could this happen, John?
There are monitoring boards for Christ’s sake, not to mention privatized
prisons are supposed to be inspected!”

“Laura, like I said, Thornbridge was in the middle of
nowhere. Since those boards are made up of locals, and most of the prison staff
lived in the area, it wasn’t long before
that
board consisted of nothing but friends and family of the officers who worked
behind those walls. And as for the inspections, it was so remote, they didn’t
happen that often, and when they did, they were scheduled. It’s easy to make it
appear that everything’s the way it should be when you have ample time to do
so.”

“Okay, fine, but that still doesn’t explain why someone like
Antoinette Vaughn would end up in a place like that. There’s nothing in this
file about her ever being violent.”

“Originally, she was sentenced to Sutton Hall, but within a
few months of her arrival, the Home Office began getting reports from a guard
over there stating that she was disruptive, argumentative
and
violent. After the fourth report, she was deemed
unsafe for the general population and was immediately transported to
Thornbridge.”

“How long was she there?”

“Almost four years. The information about her innocence came
to light only a day or two before they closed Thornbridge, so she was there
until the end. She was put into a holding facility for a few weeks while they
sorted out the details, and then she was given a full pardon and set free.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“When she arrived for her first day of work, she had a friend
with her, and after we got Toni settled in her classroom, her friend and I had
a chat. She filled me in on some of the details, and the rest I already knew
from working at Sturrington.”

“At Sturrington? I don’t understand.”

“In my position as governor there, I was privy to most of the
reports that were funneled through the Home Office, and when I read the one
about Thornbridge, it made me ill. It’s the reason I left. I didn’t want to
work
behind
the walls any longer. I needed to
do more. I wanted to open some doors instead of locking them all the time, and
what better way to do that than to work in a place like Calloway.”

“Okay, so you tracked down Miss Vaughn and hired her, but
that still doesn’t explain why I haven’t met her yet.”

“I didn’t track her down,” John said, shaking his head. “As
fate would have it, my first priority when I came onboard was to hire
replacements for two of the teachers who had left, so I placed an advertisement
and Toni answered it a few weeks later. Things were quite hectic back then. New
job, new responsibilities and we were understaffed, so I honestly didn’t
remember who she was until after the interview, and to tell you the truth, I
almost
didn’t
hire her.”

“What!”

“Even though her credentials were impeccable, all during the
interview, she never once made eye contact. She stared at the floor, the
desk...anywhere but back at me, and even though I know that some people are
nervous when it comes to applying for a job, she was downright terrified. You
could see it in her posture, the way she set her jaw, the way her hands were
clenched in fists, and she was so introverted that she could barely answer
anything I asked in a sentence consisting of more than just a few words.”

“Then why hire her?”

“To this day, I have no idea why, but after the interview, I
took her on a tour of Calloway. I already knew that I wasn’t going to offer her
a job. It was ludicrous to imagine that someone so withdrawn could ever teach
reading and writing, let alone literature, but nevertheless, I showed her around.
When we got to one of the classrooms, we walked in on a discussion that some of
the women were having about a book they were reading. Don’t ask me what it was
called, but as Toni and I stood there listening to their conversation, I
noticed excitement in her eyes, and before I knew it, she had immersed herself
in the discussion.”