Sometimes he’d wake thinking about Max Harper, about Max walking into Jack’s house that day and finding Fenner’s body sprawled on the couch, blood sprayed everywhere. Even when he told Max he’d killed Fenner and Max put the cuffs on him, Harper had been more than fair with him. Max had conducted the interview himself, with his two detectives present, the three of them patient and, it seemed to Jack, more in tune with him than he had any right to expect.
Max had booked him and taken him to jail himself, to the little village lockup, and later had talked with the judge privately, in the judge’s chambers. Max Harper had testified in Jack’s favor; he had Max to thank that he’d gotten off light, with only a conviction of voluntary manslaughter.
He wouldn’t have minded too much going to prison, except for Lori. Though Cora Lee French and her housemates had made that easier, taking Lori in, giving her the love and stability she needed. Cora Lee had seen that Lori was able to work when she wanted, for that woman building contractor, had even gotten her into a better school when she was so bored with her public school classes.
Sometimes he thought Lori would be better off without him, that if he were dead, that would put an end to her worry, to her fear for him in prison, and she could get on with her life. Maybe he should have died in this dustup in the prison yard.
Vic Colletto had worked for him when Jack was partners in Vincent and Reed Electrical Contractors. He’d fired young Colletto for drinking on the job; the kid had been wiring a house, dead drunk, rolling drunk. Kicked off the job, Colletto had been angry as hell, and now at last he was getting back at him. Vic, who was in for breaking and entering and several counts of theft, had been in Soledad only a few weeks when he challenged him, tried to make him fight. Jack survived in prison by keeping to himself; he’d managed to avoid confrontations until Colletto began a steady diet of harassment. Colletto hung out with several inmates he’d known on the outside, one of them a con artist whom, Jack was pretty sure, he’d seen in Molena Point. He couldn’t remember the circumstances, couldn’t recall his name. The guy was out now, back on the street, and good riddance. Strange, though—it was after he left that Victor’s bullying grew bolder.
What worried Jack was that Victor’s two brothers lived in the village. If that skuzzy Kent Colletto harassed Lori, or worse, he’d have to try to escape, to get away while he was on garden detail, find Kent and kill him. The thought sickened Jack.
He wanted to talk with Warden Deaver, get him to call Max Harper with a heads-up on the Collettos, get Harper’s people to keep an eye on Lori. Trouble was, that could backfire. It was hard to know who to trust, even within Molena Point PD. If word got back to Vic’s brothers that the law was protecting Lori, that would wave a red flag in their faces. Lori was thirteen, she was growing up fast and she was probably a lot more savvy than many kids her age—but savvy wasn’t enough by itself to keep her safe. Vic was in for robbery of a convenience store in which he’d beaten the clerk so badly he nearly died, and his brother, Kent, was no better, had twice done time in juvenile for battery. Lori was little more than a child, she had no defense against that kind of brutality.
Lori had some childish dream that he’d be pardoned, that he’d soon be home again, but that wasn’t going to happen. She talked about his release when she visited, letting her imagination run wild, about how maybe the governor would commute his sentence, let him come home, and they’d get a little house, how she’d cook and keep house for him. Jack dozed, thinking about being home again, in his own home with his little girl.
He jerked awake to see Lori standing by his bed looking down at him, at first thought she was part of his dream. She reached down over the rail, put her hand on his, careful not to move the IV tube. Her small fingers were ice cold, bringing him fully awake. Her long brown hair shone so bright, just like her mother’s. He wanted to grab her and hug her, but a guard was standing right there. She was dressed in her school uniform, looking so clean and beautiful. Cora Lee stood behind her, tall and slim, looking beautiful, too, and efficient in tailored white slacks and a cream-colored blazer that set off her warm coloring. Her brown eyes met his, dark with worry.
Holding Lori’s hands, he wished he could talk privately with Cora Lee, tell her his own worries about Lori. There was no way they could do that, with the guard standing at the foot of the bed listening to every word, watching their every move, his pale blue eyes never leaving Lori as she held Jack’s hand—even though Lori knew she wasn’t supposed to touch him—as if a thirteen-year-old child might have smuggled in a gun. She looked up into the man’s cold eyes and drew away. Nothing was supposed to pass between them, not even love. When they put you in prison, all your rights were taken from you, and most of the rights of your loved ones. Lori could bring no little gift, Cora Lee had to lock her purse in the car, leave her car keys at the admitting desk, and he knew they’d gone through a body scan.
“Pa? We came as soon as the warden called.” She searched his face, trying to see in his eyes how badly he was hurt, trying hard not to cry. He knew he looked like hell, bound up in bandages, and stuck with tubes. He wanted to hug her and hold her and he wasn’t allowed. Wanted to tell her how sorry he was that she had to endure this.
Cora Lee said, “I talked with Max.” She took a deep breath, glancing at the guard. “The warden called him.” She seemed to think the guard might stop her. “Max told me it was Victor Colletto who stabbed you.” She put her arm around Lori. “We’re doing as he told us. There will be extra patrols along our street, and a grown-up will be with Lori twenty-four/seven, at work with Ryan, at school. And of course up with the horses. Charlie Harper will ride with her.” No one said that Charlie Harper rode armed, but Jack knew that.
“I’ll be like a prisoner,” Lori said in a small voice, and then wished she hadn’t said that.
“Can you get her out of the village somewhere?” Jack wanted to say, Send her to your sister in New Orleans. But he didn’t want to say even that in front of a stranger, not even a prison guard.
Lori shook her head. “I’m not going to run away. That Kent Colletto’s nothing but a punk.” And then, at Jack’s look, “I’ll be careful, Pa. I’ll do what Captain Harper tells me.” But then she grinned. “Warden Deaver told Cora Lee that Victor’s in confinement and will be moved to another prison, that he might have to go back for new sentencing. I hope they hang him.”
Jack tried not to laugh, it hurt like hell to laugh. For a long moment they were silent, just looking at each other. He longed to keep her safe, and there was no way he could do that. He felt as useless as he had when, before he was sent to prison, he’d tried to protect her from Fenner, and nearly failed. Felt as useless as when Fenner had found her hiding place and nearly got his hands on her.
He looked at Cora Lee. “Our friend Max, tell him to keep safe. Tell him to take care not just of Lori but of himself.” His look held Cora Lee. Her own eyes widened, then she nodded. He wanted to tell her more, but he hestitated to name names since they weren’t alone. He said, “Some guy just coming out of prison, that could be bad news.” Maybe that was enough, maybe that would give Max a heads-up. Again Cora Lee nodded, and then she grinned at him, gave him a thumbs-up and a look as warm as a hug.
13
THE THREE CATS had hardly scrambled up to Maudie’s roof when Kit blurted out, “That was no accident, that truck was parked around the corner up there waiting for her. I saw it, the minute she came out the driver gunned it and took off and—”