Summer In Iron Springs (28 page)

Twenty Three

             
“I really appreciate you taking the time to meet with us Mr. Lewis.” Phoebe followed the principal of Iron Springs High through the school’s front doors with Billy and Jenna trailing behind.

             
Mr. Lewis turned and smiled at Phoebe before unlocking the door to his office. “Well, my wife was quite taken by you three—I’m sure I would have been in big trouble if I didn’t agree to help you.” He gave a little chuckle. “Have a seat.” He held his hand out to the chairs that faced his desk before turning and opening a file drawer. “Let me just see what I have here. As I recall, Mike didn’t have any family.” The man tilted his head and reflected. “He was a quiet man, kept pretty much to himself.”

             
“Do you have any idea where he is or how we can get in touch with him?” Phoebe asked when Mr. Lewis sat down and placed Mike’s employment file on the desk in front of him.

             
“I don’t. Like my wife told you, he left town without a word to anybody.” He paused. “I guess now we know why.”

             
“Maybe some information in his employee file will be helpful,” Billy said directing his eyes to the unopened file.

             
“Well, let’s hope so.” Mr. Lewis opened the file and reviewed the contents. Meanwhile, Jenna’s cell phone rang and she excused herself and walked outside. Phoebe could tell it was Dave calling. Her voice changed slightly whenever she talked to him—it was a little more high-pitched and a lot more flirtatious.

             
After a moment, she poked her head back in Mr. Lewis’ office. “Guess what!” She said; her hand covering the phone’s mouthpiece.

             
“What?” Phoebe asked and Billy asked in unison.

             
“I gave Dave the janitor’s name and he is doing a background check on him. He did a quick search but it’s such a common name, he was wondering if we could get his date of birth or social security number.”

             
Mr. Lewis glanced up from the file and directed his attention to Jenna. “He was born on September 2, 1961.”

             
“Great. Thanks.” She started to pull the door closed but peeked back in and snickered. “It’s nice having a boyfriend who works at the courthouse.” After a loud giggle, the door closed and Jenna returned to the outer office.

“Let’s see what else might be helpful.” Mr. Lewis reached for a notepad and jotted down some information. He tore the sheet of paper from the pad and handed it to Phoebe. He pointed to an address he had scribbled on the page. “That’s where he lived when he worked here. That’s basically all there is in here. He has no emergency contact person, no family listed.”

“Do you have his social security number?” Phoebe asked. She was sure the number was in Mike’s file since it would have been required for employment but she was also sure Mr. Lewis was not supposed to share that information with anyone.

“Yes, I have it.” Mr. Lewis nodded. “But, unless you are completely certain that Mike is the one that killed your mother, I would not be comfortable sharing it with you.” He looked at Phoebe and then Billy. “I hope you understand. Technically, I shouldn’t have given you any information but, given the nature of the situation . . .”

“We understand,” Phoebe said. “I appreciate your help more than you know.” She shook Mr. Lewis’ hand. “You have been very kind.”

Mr. Lewis stood and walked Phoebe and Billy to the school’s parking lot.

“Good luck to you.” Mr. Lewis smiled as he unlocked his car door. “If I can help you out in any way, please don’t hesitate to call.”

             
When Phoebe and Billy met up with Jenna in the parking lot, she was still on the phone with Dave. She was busily taking notes as Dave talked. Once she hung up, she related all that Dave had told her.

             
“Mike Smith is currently in the Utah State Prison.” Jenna handed a piece of paper to Phoebe. It contained the address of the prison and gave details about which block he was being housed in. “He has a long criminal history ranging from petty crimes to armed bank robbery. That’s what got him put in prison this time.”

             
“So, he’s the guy that killed my mother.” The words fell from Phoebe’s mouth and were followed by a long moment of silence.

             
“I wonder if we should talk to Norm or Anna.” Jenna suggested. “This is getting a little creepy.”

             
“No.” Phoebe answered quickly. “I don’t want to do that unless we absolutely have to. I don’t want them to try and stop us when we’re this close.”

             
“You’re right.” Jenna agreed. “But, you have to promise me that you will be very careful. This isn’t just some small time criminal, Phoebe. This guy is dangerous.”

             
“I know. And I promise we’ll be careful.” She looked at Billy. “We need to go to the prison.”

             
“Just say when,” Billy said.

             
“Jenna, can you ask Dave to find out when visiting hours are and how we go about arranging a visit?”

             
“Yep.” Jenna pulled out her phone and called Dave again.

“Do you think we can go tomorrow?” Phoebe asked Billy. “We’d have to take the day off but we can’t tell Norm why. Do you think he’ll let us miss work?”

              Billy leaned over and gave Phoebe a peck on the lips. “Don’t worry, Feebs. Norm is my friend. I’ll just tell him we have something important to do, and he’ll understand.”

             
“Okay.” Phoebe knew Billy was right. Over the past few weeks, she found out that Norm was actually a very likeable guy; quirkiness and all.

             
“Dave said visiting hours are from nine to nine. He also said you should be able to visit Mike unless he is on lockdown. There are no rules about having to be a blood relative. The only thing that would be a problem is if he refused to see you. They are allowed to refuse a visit if they want.”

             
Phoebe wondered what the likelihood was that Mike would agree to a visit from a perfect stranger. She had one chance to get in to see him, and she didn’t want to blow it. She thought about the things that she would say to him. She was anxious to tell Mike how she felt about him. She would tell him what a coward he is and how he selfishly took the life of another human being without any regard for the person or her family. As she considered the confrontation she would have with Mike, her pulse sped up and her body became tense. And as the Sunday school lesson came into her mind, she wondered how on earth she could ever forgive Mike Smith for what he did.

             
“ . . . What do you think, Feebs?” Billy asked.

             
“Huh?” Phoebe put her thoughts on hold as she was brought up to speed on the conversation she’d missed while her thoughts were elsewhere.

             
“We are thinking of going to the Village Candy Shoppe for a treat. What do you think?” Billy asked.

             
“Yeah, that sounds good.” Phoebe’s response was half-hearted. She wished she could press a fast forward button; it was going to be a long night anticipating her visit with Mike tomorrow. But, as Billy slipped his hand in hers and pulled her close to him, she relaxed and told herself to enjoy the time she had left in Iron Springs.

             
It was a beautiful evening, so they parked the truck at the bottom of Park Street and walked to the Village Candy Shoppe. From the sidewalk, the group glanced in the large display window at a display of tempting delicacies. One shelf was lined with various flavors of fudge. This was, of course, the shelf that attracted Phoebe’s immediate attention. Another displayed chocolate dipped fruit and caramel apples. To the right of the window was a machine that was hard at work pulling taffy. A mouth-watering aroma was carried out the front doors and wafted through the crowd enticing them to follow their noses inside for a treat.

             
The four friends took their place in the long line. “What are you getting?” Billy spoke in Phoebe’s ear so his voice wouldn’t be drowned out by the chattering people.

             
“Guess.” She responded playfully.

             
“Ummm, let’s see…” He pretended he wasn’t already sure what she planned to order. “I think you will order one of those.” He pointed to a couple who were sharing a giant ice cream sundae.

             
“Actually, that does look good,” she said, licking her lips as she stared at the delicious looking creation. “But so does the fudge.”

             
“I have an idea. How about we share a sundae and order some fudge to go?” He pressed his lips to Phoebe’s forehead. “That way, you get the best of both worlds.”

             
“Good idea.”

             
After leaving the Village Candy Shoppe, Phoebe and Billy said goodbye to Jenna and Dave and walked toward Billy’s truck.

             
“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Billy asked. He took Phoebe by the hand and led her toward the crosswalk.

             
Phoebe thought for a long moment. She was nervous, but she was even more determined. She had worked hard to get to this point, and she needed to know, once and for all, exactly what happened the day her mother died. She was ready to let everyone in Iron Spring know that her dad had nothing to do with her mother’s death. And, she was ready for the person responsible for the crime to be punished.

“A little.”

***

“You ready for this?” Billy angled his truck into a space at the prison’s parking lot.

              Phoebe craned her neck out the truck window. The soaring guard tower adjacent to the parking lot caused Phoebe’s pulse to pound double time. “I don’t know. This place is already giving me the creeps.” She examined the towering chain link fencing that surrounded the compound. “I’ve never been anywhere like this before.”

             
If it wasn’t for Billy being with her, Phoebe was sure she would have chickened out. But, with a death grip on his hand, she headed through the first set of doors. There, they were sent through a metal detector just like the ones at the airport. Then, they were directed to head through another set of doors where they took their place in line.

Phoebe blew out a slow breath while watching the people ahead of her as they were called to step up to the platform. She hoped that by paying attention she could get a sense of the process before it was her turn. When the lady ahead of her—an overly skinny, boisterous woman with bleach blonde hair— reached the platform, she was asked a question by the guard. Phoebe couldn’t hear what had been said
, but in response to the question, the lady set her oversized bright pink, excessively bedazzled, purse on the counter and began to search through it. In the process, she scattered the contents onto the counter before her.

Phoebe glanced at the guard’s face and, after seeing his annoyance, she leaned close to Billy. “I hope we don’t get that guy. He’s getting pretty ticked off.”

Eventually, the woman handed something to the guard which he held to his eyes for inspection. After asking the lady a question, she lowered her head and pointed to her black roots. To this, the guard nodded his head, rolled his eyes and let her pass.

After seeing this, Phoebe whispered to Billy, “You have ID right?

              “Yeah. I have my driver’s license.” Billy was paying attention too. As soon as she was permitted beyond the podium to the visitor’s area, he took Phoebe’s hand and led her to the counter where they stood before the same steely eyed guard.

Great
. Phoebe put a hand over her suddenly queasy stomach. To make matters worse—as if that were possible—the guard’s booming voice thundered in Phoebe’s head.

             
“Who you visiting?”

Phoebe opened her mouth but she couldn’t find her voice. The guard waited only a brief moment before roaring his question again.

“I said, Who. You. Visiting?” His eyes examined Phoebe in a way that made her very uncomfortable.

             
“Mike Smith.” Billy spoke up.

             
The guard raised his eyes over the wire rimmed glasses that sat on the tip of his nose and gave Billy a dull stare. “Mike Smith?”

             
“Yeah, Mike Smith.” Billy repeated.

             
“I’m gonna need more than that, son.” The man scoffed. “We got half a dozen Mike Smith’s in here.”

             
Phoebe dug her hand into her purse and pulled out the slip of paper Mr. Lewis had given her. Her hand shook as she read the birth date to the guard. “He was born on September 2, 1961.”

             
The guard shifted his gaze from Billy to Phoebe. “And you are?”