His eyes glanced down my body, then met my own. I had expected to feel rage and was surprised when I didn’t. I only wanted him to help me save Danny now.
“Can we come in?” Keith asked.
“What’s this about?”
“Just a few questions about the milk supply. We’ve had complaints about spiking.”
Randell nodded once and stepped back.
I followed Keith into the cell, leaving the door open behind me. There was little privacy, but the cells on either side were unoccupied and no other members were close enough to hear us if we kept our voices down.
“Have a seat.” Keith motioned to the bed.
“I’d rather stand.”
“Sure. I don’t see why not.”
“I’d rather you sit,” I said, stepping to the side for a better view. “If that’s not too much to ask.”
Randell gave me a long look, then took a step back, leaned back against the edge of the sink, and crossed his arms.
“Good enough,” Keith said. He slipped a pen out of his pocket, peeled back the first page on his clipboard, and scanned the page.
Our first concern had been whether Randell might recognize Keith, the deputy sheriff who’d put him behind bars, but clearly he didn’t. The dye and facial hair threw him off.
“Bruce Randell. Number?”
Bruce rattled it off.
“You’ve been here how long?”
“Here or in prison?”
“In prison.”
“Eight years.”
“What were you convicted of, Bruce?”
“Distribution.”
“So you know substances, I take it.”
“You could say that. I used to, anyways.”
Keith lifted his eyes and stared at the man. “How about in Basal? Any that you know of?”
“Nope.”
“Really? Because that’s not what we’ve been told. What do you know about the milk here in Basal?”
Randell just looked at him and it struck me that maybe he actually did know something about spiked milk in Basal.
I knew that Keith wanted to play it out and go through the questioning as we’d agreed to, but that was before I knew Danny was missing. There was an open door at my back and beyond it a prison with a warden who might be breathing down our backs.
I couldn’t think of any reason to wait, so I stepped in front of Keith, hoping his body made a good enough shield behind me, and cut to the chase.
“Do you know a woman named Constance?”
He shook his head. “Don’t think so. Nope.”
His eyes were blank, not a hint of recognition. I’d expected to open the door with that question, but his reaction took me off guard.
“You know nothing about a finger in a shoe box?”
It took him a moment to digest the question before a smirk crossed his face. “You’re joking, right?”
“Nope.”
Behind me, Keith cleared his throat. This wasn’t the plan, I knew that, but it was now.
“What about a million dollars?” I pressed. “Does that ring a bell?”
“Sure, I’ll take a million dollars. You gonna get me out of here so I can spend it?”
Not even a hint that he knew about Sicko’s game. But he was connected, and I had to know how.
“So you’re saying you don’t know a thing about any threats to anyone involving body parts or missing drug money.”
“I honestly don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, lady.”
“And what about a priest? Know any priests?”
His eyes flinched and I knew two things. One, Randell really didn’t know anything about Constance or drug money. That had to be Sicko’s doing, which confirmed our assumption that Randell wasn’t Sicko.
Two, Randell not only did know Danny, but there was history between them.
“Danny Hansen,” I pushed. “You know, the priest who was transferred to Basal ten days ago. What can you tell us about Danny?”
“Nothing.”
He was lying.
“I think what Julia’s trying to ask—”
“Not now, Keith,” I said. “We don’t have time. You see, my partner and I sometimes play good cop, bad cop—him good, me bad—but we’re in a rush, so I’m gonna get straight to the point. This whole prison is about to blow sky-high, Mr. Randell. We’re going to give you about three minutes to decide if you want to go up with it. Fair enough?”
He stared at me as if I’d lost my mind. Keith was probably thinking the same thing. I’d mistakenly used his real name.
“Why are you messing with Danny?” I asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Seriously?” I was incredulous. “You’re actually going to drag this out? We know about the threats to Danny’s life. We know what’s going on in Basal—we just need to decide who goes down with the warden.”
“You’re lying,” he said. “This some kind of test?”
“A test by who? The warden? Because I’ll tell you this, I don’t care what the warden’s told you, it’s over. If we don’t find Danny alive and well, it’s all going to lead back to you, and you’re going to end up on a bus to death row.”
For a moment Randell looked like he might capitulate, but then his jaw slowly firmed. Whatever hold the warden had over him, it was strong. My ploy wasn’t going to work.
So I bent over, hiked up my right pant leg, and pulled out the Beretta I’d strapped to my calf.
Keith touched my shoulder. “Renee…”
I stepped forward and shoved the gun below Randell’s belt. He jerked back, grasped the basin with both hands, and stared down at the gun. I knew I couldn’t shoot in here—the gun was only meant to be used for leverage if we needed it—but it was loaded and my finger was already tightening.
“Now you listen to me, you pig. I know you were abused by a priest when you were a boy, but the priest you’re messing with now is going to get you killed. The state knows everything. We’re here because we have reason to believe there’s a direct threat to Danny’s life as we speak. You’re either going to tell me where he is or I’m going to shoot off your toe.”
“I don’t know where he is.”
His face was flushed red. I had his attention.
“Renee…”
“Not now, Keith.” To Randelclass="underline" “Is Danny alive?”
His eyes were frantic, looking at me, then at Keith over my head.
“Tell me!” I gave the gun a shove.
“I didn’t kill him…I swear he was alive last time I saw him.”
“When? When did you see him alive?”
He wavered, grasping for the meaning of a woman with an OIG badge shoving a gun at him in his prison cell. I didn’t want him to think it through; I wanted him to react without thought.
“You protect the warden and you go down with him. When?”
“Two nights ago.”
“Where?”
“In the hard yard.”
“What did you do to him?”
“He made me. I’m only doing what I have to do to stay alive in this place. They killed Slane right in front of me!”
“Where’s the priest?”
“I don’t know!”
We’d been urgent, not loud, but Randell’s last denial rang through the hall.
“Shut up,” I snapped. “Where would he be?”
“In the hole.”
“Segregation?”
“No. The other hole.”
“Which hole?”
His eyes were filled with fear.
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know!”
“How could you not know? You’ve never been there?”
He was breathing hard now. I’d reached a part of his mind he didn’t want reached.
“They blindfold us. It’s below ad seg.”
I blinked. The information quickly settled into my gut. Blindfolds? The warden was a brute who was playing games with his inmates. Randell was a pawn who knew nothing. Constance had been a pawn. Messengers and thugs.