“It started as a fight. They were just feeling him out, seeing what he had. Virgil admits he sort of provoked it.”
“You’re guessing that Weston’s fishing.”
“Based on the behavior he’s exhibited, yes. I’ve worked in corrections long enough to have a good feel for these things.”
He tossed the paper on the coffee table between them. “That’s quite a gamble.”
Weston’s chicken scratch stared up at her, making her doubt her conclusions. “He’s feeling us out, too. There are all kinds of murmurings and conjectures at the prison. The slightest change or even rumor sets off a chain reaction, and the men are always pushing, testing boundaries, seeing what they can get away with. Maybe our trip to the library on Friday caused some speculation. He hears something’s up, meets this new guy who can fight and gets suspicions.”
“You’re that convinced he’s bluffing?”
“I am. Otherwise, I would’ve pulled Virgil out. Weston didn’t know when he fought Virgil in the dining hall, or that incident would’ve gone down very differently. That he’d find out within hours is…unlikely, especially when he spent most of that time isolated in the infirmary.”
“I think you’re wrong,” Rick argued. “He knows. It says so right there!”
“He couldn’t. We’ve told only a handful of people, trustworthy people who have nothing to gain by seeing this fail.”
“So how do you suggest we react to this?” He gestured toward the paper. “Leave him in the SHU?”
Would that create more or less danger for Virgil? She wished she could say with one hundred percent certainty…. “Yes. We laugh and tell him he’s crazy. Even if he does know, I think it would make him question whatever information he’s received.” At least that was the conclusion she’d come to at the prison while pacing in her office, weighing every detail in her mind. She’d thought it through carefully and decided to trust her intuition and the experience she’d gained working with men like Weston. Then she’d forced herself to drive home even though she was terrified to leave Virgil behind.
Rick crossed his legs, folded his hands in his lap and leaned back. “I think you should set up a meeting with Weston.”
She jumped to her feet. “What?”
“Don’t get upset. Just listen. If we can enlist his help, Virgil will become a validated member of the Hells Fury in no time. This other guy you’ve mentioned—this Buzz who’s his cell mate—he’s small potatoes by comparison, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“And Buzz’s about to be paroled. Weston would be the better sponsor. He’s more credible. And he’s giving us an opportunity. I say we take it.”
“No.” She shook her head. “If Weston learns Virgil’s a snitch, Virgil’s dead.”
“We don’t have a crystal ball, Peyton. This was a risk from the start. You pointed that out pretty emphatically. Enlisting Weston’s help will advance our goals the quickest.”
“You’re not listening.”
“What I’m hearing is that you don’t know for sure either way.”
“It smells wrong. I work with these men every day. Weston would’ve handled this differently if—”
“If you make a mistake, you could be signing Virgil’s death warrant!”
“I understand that. But I can’t trust Weston. I just can’t do it.”
A muscle began to twitch in his cheek. “Are you saying you won’t?”
The challenge he’d issued gave her pause. He was pulling rank.
“You’re not going to respond?” he said.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Then do as I say. Last I checked, I was still calling the shots for this operation.” He cracked a smile, but she knew there was no levity in his words.
“What if you’re wrong?”
“Then I’ll take responsibility. I’m a big boy. I can deal with it.”
But if anything happened to Virgil, could she? “Fine. I’ll meet with Weston in the morning,” she said.
26
Peyton slept badly all night, then woke before her alarm could go off and lay in bed trying to convince herself that the nightmares she’d had about Virgil weren’t a bad omen. He was okay. If he’d suffered a setback or been injured again, someone at the prison would’ve called her….
Grateful that the long night was finally over, that she could go back to work where she’d at least be close to him, she got up, turned off her alarm and crept up her curving stairs to the kitchen. Wallace was sleeping in the guest room, which she had to pass, and she didn’t want to wake him. She preferred to have this time alone.
Thinking of the conversation they’d had last night, she smothered a groan. Was she really going to cut a deal with Weston Jager? She couldn’t. But if she refused, Wallace would go to the warden and they’d proceed without her. He wouldn’t let her opinion override his.
Her cell phone buzzed as she was reaching for the coffee grounds. Surprised to be getting a call so early, she grabbed it, didn’t recognize the number, but walked out onto the deck. When she heard the voice of her caller, she hurried down the steps and into the forest. No way did she want Wallace to know she was talking to Virgil.
“Oh, my God,” she gasped. “Tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m okay.”
“Good. Now that I can breathe… Everyone’s in their cells this time of the morning. How are you calling me?”
“I promised Buzz fifty bucks if he let me borrow his cell.”
Buzz had a cell? As a prison administrator, she wasn’t too happy to learn that. But hard as they worked to stop the smuggling, it went on. And personally, she couldn’t be happier that Virgil had found a means to contact her. “Where’d you get fifty dollars?”
“Where do you think?”
His gate money. They gave parolees two hundred dollars when they released them.
“I told him I needed to call my girlfriend,” he added with a chuckle.
She smiled at the admission. “So…am I your girlfriend?”
There was a slight pause, as if he wasn’t sure how to respond. Then he said, “You’re the only one I dream about.”
Remembering his kiss, reliving it in her mind, she moistened her lips. “That would probably be more flattering if you had access to other women.”
“All I care about is getting access to you.”
This was a far different Virgil, one who was showing his tender side. His injuries must be getting the better of him, or he was feeling fatalistic or depressed. “Is that the pain meds talking?” she asked. “Because the last time we chatted, you were pushing me away.”
“The meds can’t change how I feel, but…maybe they’re changing what I’m willing to say. I shouldn’t be telling you that you matter to me. I’m a fool for even wanting you.”
Spinning in a tight circle, she savored the smell of the forest around her and knew she’d never forget this moment. “Then we’re both fools because I want you, too.”
“You can’t be serious.”
She couldn’t deny it. “I am.”
“See? Now that’s going to make me even crazier. Because I can’t be with you. And how long can I expect a woman like you to wait?”
The solidity of his medallion, which she’d put on before bed last night, reassured her as it hung between her breasts. She wrapped her fingers around it, glad that she had something tangible, something that belonged to him. “I can’t imagine I’ll be going anywhere. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel the way you do.”
The tone of his voice suddenly became wary. “Someone’s coming. I gotta go.”
But she hadn’t broached the subject of the note from Weston yet…. “No, wait! I need to talk to you.”