Riven (58 page)

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Authors: Jerry B. Jenkins

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BOOK: Riven
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Grace smiled. “She told me. Said you were afraid the governor would try to make it look like Brady was pushing the appeal.”

“This will put an end to it,” Thomas said. “The protesters will always be there, and I admire their devotion and tenacity, I really do. But any delay in this would be the most unpopular political move anyone could make.”

“Brady will get what he wants,” Grace said quietly. “It saddens me, but I know it’s the right thing.”

“Interesting,” Thomas said. “Brady said your illness made him sad.”

“Bless his heart. I wish I could record more music for him, but I just can’t.”

“He asks for the first one every time we meet. He’s got some of the songs down. You should hear him sing.”

Grace seemed to study Thomas. “You light up when you talk about him. You love that young man, don’t you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I care for him a great deal. He’s such a sad case.”

“But he’s also your spiritual stepchild. You’ve invested yourself in him.”

“It’s not just him. I’ve wanted to do this with any of the men all through the years. He’s just the first who’s seemed genuine. Did I tell you he’d like a picture of you and wondered if you’d mind if he taped it on his wall?”

“Sure, but not a recent picture. I don’t suppose they’d let you shoot a picture of him for me.”

“No, but there have been plenty in the papers.”

“He looked so forlorn in those.”

The phone rang. It was Ravinia. “Anything wrong?” Thomas said. “Summer okay?”

“We’re fine, Dad. I’ve asked Dirk if I can drop her off. I need to talk with you.”

“Urgent?”

“Sort of, but nothing personal, so nothing to worry about. I’ll be there within the hour.”

Death Row

Brady sat trying to memorize some verses from Matthew while letting one of Mrs. Carey’s songs echo in his mind. But he found it hard to sit still. He had spent much of the previous night penning a letter to his aunt Lois that began, “You’re going to find this hard to believe, but some of what you tried to teach me about God must have stuck, enough to make me worry what was going to happen to me when I die. . . .”

She would be disappointed to hear that he had not become a true believer until recently, but she would also be overjoyed to be sure about him now. Aunt Lois would insist on coming to see him. And finally, he would be more than ready.

That morning Brady was struck by an idea so bizarre that he began to believe it could have come only from God. He paced. He sat. He stood. He turned it over in his mind. Impossible. Could it work? He couldn’t wait to bounce it off someone. But he didn’t dare even suggest it to Chaplain Carey yet, not until he found out if it could even be done.

At his end-of-the-day meeting with his lawyer in the isolation unit, Brady gushed his idea.

Mrs. Carey-Blanc just sat there shaking her head and telling him all the reasons why it would never fly. Rules, regulations, protocol, procedure, no exceptions, and the list went on and on.

He just smiled at her.

“I’m not going to pursue this for you, Brady.”

“Yes, you are. I can tell.”

“You can’t tell it by me. Have you been listening? It’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible. ‘I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength.’ That’s from Philippians.”

“Yeah, I know. Chapter 4, verse 13. Don’t forget, I grew up with your spiritual adviser. I don’t mean to be flippant, Brady, but not even Christ can help you with this one. Simply not going to happen.”

“But you’ll try.”

Ravinia rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Sure you would. You know everything, and you’ve been working inside the system a long time.”

“I’d be laughed out of here,” she said.

“Just tell me you’ll try.”

“Brady, really, be serious. Think this through. Can you imagine the warden going for this? Uh-uh. No way.”

“I like your idea of starting with the warden,” he said.

“I said no such thing.”

“Start at the top; go right to the man.”

“You know what his nickname is?”

Brady shook his head.

“It’s Yanno.” She told him why.

“That’s funny.”

“Neither of us will find it funny when he throws in a few expletives.”

“But you’ll try?”

“Brady, don’t ask me to do this.”

“I’m asking.”

She sighed. “And you’ll take
no
for an answer?”

“Not from you.”

“From the warden?”

“Yeah, no.”

“Very funny. But seriously, Brady, if he says no, it’s over, right?”

“Okay, listen, ma’am, I know I’m new at this, and I’m not saying God spoke to me like He did to your dad, but I feel like He gave me this idea. If He did, no one can stand in the way of it, right?”

“Well, first of all, if you ever call me ma’am again, I’ll drop you as a client.”

“No you won’t. You like me.”

“I’m not even ten years older than you, so don’t be using matronly names for me. And the sad answer is, yes, even if God gave you the idea, someone can stand in the way of it. Not everybody here acknowledges God, you know.”

“And how about you?”

“Sorry?”

“You, Mrs. Carey-Blanc?”

“That’s personal, and I’d appreciate it if we kept our relationship on a professional—”

“Sorry. I mean, I just, you know, wondered if you still believe in Jesus or—”

“If you must know, I have not entirely thrown the baby out with the bathwater, as the saying goes. But God and I have not been on speaking terms for a long time.”

“The baby with the bathwater. I like that.”

“Never heard that before?”

“Oh, sure. But I figure you mean the baby Jesus.”

That stopped her somehow, left her silent. Finally she spoke, trying, he thought, to lighten the mood. “I’ll tell you what: if we get anywhere with the warden on this, it’ll be a miracle.”

“Then maybe you and God will be on speaking terms again.”

“That just might do it, but don’t press your luck. And I’m serious—I do not want to discuss my personal life with you.”

Adamsville

Thomas sat in his living room staring at his daughter. “That is so wrong on so many levels. You sure he was serious?”

She nodded. “He’s earnest, I’ll give him that.”

“Earnest is one thing,” Thomas said. “Insane is another. What an ugly idea. Well, I just hope his faith isn’t shattered when it gets shot down.”

“I’m already having second thoughts about even agreeing to pursue this,” Ravinia said. “If Brady just went through normal channels, it would never see the light of day. But now Yanno will have to take this seriously because a lawyer is involved.”

“That won’t worry him,” Thomas said. “He has every policy and procedure in the book backing him, and security overrides everything.”

“Still, I’m obligated to represent my client. I suppose I could be less than enthusiastic or even confide in the warden that I know it’s not going to fly but that I’m going through the motions.”

“That doesn’t sound ethical, Rav.”

“That’s why I’m here. Would you go with me when I talk with LeRoy?”

“Not if you want me as an ally. The whole thing hits me as grotesque. What was Brady thinking?”

“I figured you would
like
to see this happen, if there was any chance.”

“You know as well as I do that there is no chance. But even if there were, why would I like it?”

“Because his motives are pure, and think of the impact. Even I can see that. But I have to get the warden on board. And having another interested party along can only help.”

“So I’d be there to help intimidate Frank? Not sure I’m comfortable with that.”

“You’d be there for me, Dad. If I’m to act in the best interest of my client, I need accountability. I hate to admit it, but alone I might cave and feel obligated to tell the warden I know it’s a long shot and blah, blah, blah. I mean, I agree with you that this has zero chance, but I told Brady I’d try.”

“I’m willing to go, but I prefer not to say anything unless asked.”

“He may ask about how Brady is doing. You know that better than anyone.”

“Sure, I can speak to that. But otherwise, I’m just there as moral support. Now you’d better check in on your mother, and feel free to wake her. She’ll be disappointed if she misses you.”

When Ravinia tiptoed into the bedroom, Thomas stood looking out the living room window, praying silently. What a cockamamy idea Brady had. It would make for an interesting meeting with the warden. Thomas could hardly wait to see the look on Yanno’s face.

When Rav emerged, she whispered, “She’s getting worse, isn’t she?”

Thomas nodded. “The doctor says she’ll slip a little further back after each remission, but that she has a few more remissions to enjoy too, if his guess is correct.”

“I wouldn’t count on it, Dad. I would love to see it, but I just don’t know.”

“Me either. Listen, I’ve got an idea about our meeting with the warden, but it may seem duplicitous.”

“How delicious. I’m not above duplicity.”

“Well, call it more manipulation.”

“Even better, Dad. What?”

“I was just thinking that if you preceded laying out the idea to the warden with the fact that you expect a huge fight from the feds over this and so you wanted to come to him first, he’d have his back up right away. Nothing motivates him more than people who try to tell him what to do.”

“Sort of like me, eh?”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

67

Administrative Wing

Frank LeRoy looked wary as Thomas Carey and Ravinia Carey-Blanc sat directly across the desk from him in faded plastic chairs.

“Give me the shock of my life and tell me this is not about Brady Wayne Darby.”

Thomas and Ravinia smiled at each other, and the warden said, “Yeah, no, that’s what I thought. What now?”

“I’m just tired of Washington, aren’t you, sir?” Ravinia said.

“I was until the governor gave ’em what for. You heard the federal appeals board finally caved and that’s all over now.”

“I informed you, sir.”

“That you did. That you did. So, anyway, I think that takes the heat off, don’t you?”

“Unless they try to tell you what you can and can’t do with a prisoner who’s going to die in a little over two years regardless.”

“The governor made Director Andreason and me proud, ma’am. The feds have no say when it comes to Darby. We’d have sued their pants off if they’d ruled the other way on the mandatory appeal, but that wasn’t necessary, and now they’re completely out of it.”

“No matter what you decide about Darby?”

“There’s nothing more to decide. He’s proved a model citizen. I wouldn’t want to be quoted outside this office, but the reverend here has me convinced the guy’s for real. Not sure I agree he’s going to get into heaven after what he did, but that’s just doctrine between your dad and me. But Darby serves out his time and keeps behaving, we do the deed on time, end of story.”

“I’ll bet you’d have Washington on your doorstep again if you do anything out of the ordinary with him.”

“They wouldn’t get past the guardhouse. And we don’t plan on anything out of the ordinary.”

“Want to put them to the test?”

Yanno leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head. “How did I know this was coming? You know this guy already has more visitation privileges and time with you and the chaplain than anybody ever has here.”

“And he’s proven worthy of that trust,” Ravinia said.

“Can’t deny that.”

“Okay, can I ask you to keep an open mind? I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page if this bothers the press, the public, the victim’s family, or Washington.”

“Whatever it is, young lady, you don’t have to sell anybody but me. I don’t give a baboon’s hairdo what anyone else thinks about it.”

“That’s the way you’ve always run this place.”

“It’s the way I do business, and it always will be.”

Ravinia pulled out her notes. “Okay, so Darby is in his cell yesterday morning, minding his own business. As you know, he spends most of every day reading his Bible and memorizing it.”

“So?”

“So he got an idea. It’s . . . unconventional, but I think you might like it.”

“Do tell.”

“Actually, sir, he wants to tell you himself.”

“Do I need to remind you two that Brady Darby is not my only inmate?”

“For right now he is,” Ravinia said. “He’s waiting in the isolation unit.”

LeRoy slowly shook his head and rose. “I swear this is the last time.”

Isolation Unit

Frank LeRoy said, “I’ve got about five minutes, so let’s dispense with pleasantries. What’s up?”

“If I may, Warden,” Ravinia said, facing Brady, “we’re heading into uncharted seas, no man’s land, or whatever cliché you want to use.”

“Just somebody tell me already, would you?” LeRoy said.

Brady was plainly hesitating. “All right, here’s the thing. ‘Keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives. Everyone who seeks, finds. And to everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.’”

Yanno squinted. “Okay, all right, then. You’re quoting the Bible. If I were you, I wouldn’t be doing that in front of your cellblock mates, if you get my drift. And there aren’t any doors in here that just pop open when you knock. So what’s this all about?”

“I’m ready to choose my form of execution, sir.”

“There’s a form for that. We’re the easiest facility in the country on that score. As you know, you get to choose, and nobody can make the decision for you.”

“Good.”

“Yeah, it’s good, but you didn’t need me here for that.”

Ravinia held up a booklet, which Thomas recognized as the induction pamphlet for death row. “Says right here that the decision is entirely under the inmate’s purview.”

Warden LeRoy extended his hands wide, as if pleading with everyone. “Could I have been more clear? Now you’ve got it from my very mouth
and
from our printed material. So can I please get back to my office?”

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