A Guardian Angel (8 page)

An idea hit Andy as
a memory returned to him at the moment. “She gave me her
number,” he started. “She asked me for a date.”

Steven was
skeptical. “She what?” he mumbled.

Andy retrieved the
indicated note and showed Steven. “Number. Date. I'm going to
call her,” Andy decided.

“Why didn't
you mention this before?” Steven sat up in his car seat,
staring at his new friend. He seemed to consider him, pondering
something about him that he seemed to like as he started the car.
“Okay,” he broke the silence with a little sparkle in his
eyes. “Have her tell you everything herself.”

-Chapter Seven-

Dinner

Haley Flynn was
beautiful. She had slipped into an exquisite ruby dress that hugged
at her curves but left most of her more intimate features a mystery.
Small silver flames dangled from her ears, a unique earring Andy had
never seen before. She was dressed up in a gorgeous outfit, which
Andy used as an icebreaker.

“I was
beginning to think you would never call,” she said in response.
She grabbed her bag from behind the door and then stepped out into
the brisk air, closing it behind her. “I'm glad you did.”

“Me too,”
Andy said, leading her over to Steven's car. It had to be cleaned
out, a grueling task that he was more than glad he performed at this
point. She had to be impressed.

“This is my
brother's apartment,” she said through the passenger window.
“I'd introduce you, but he's out on duty right now.” She
climbed into the car after receiving a smile in response. “Where
did you have in mind?” she asked. Her scent filled the car.

“A small
restaurant with a lot of Italian food,” Andy said. He did well
as a flirt, finding little trouble in pretending to be what he was
not. “Hopefully with a lack of crying children.” Steven
had picked the place.

“Ooh,”
she hummed, impressed. “That's a perfect balance. You are a
good first date.” They smiled at each other and drove off into
the young Lumnin night.

“I have to
ask,” Andy said, doing his best to exercise his grasp on the
art of conversing, “what made you ask me out?”

Haley smiled with
her beautiful-without-lipstick lips, a comfortable sign. Andy was
surprised by her warmth toward him. Her ignorant trust. “You're
cute and you're intelligent,” she explained. “It's a vibe
I get. They haven't been wrong yet, so don't be the first.”

They laughed.
“Trust me,” Andy said, feeling evil, “I certainly
won't try to be.”

“Where are
you from?” she asked.

“Chicago,”
Andy replied, glancing over at her. “Since I was born.”

“You don't
have a Chicago accent,” Haley commented.

Andy looked over at
her. He had not lied, but she was right. “I travel a lot. I
guess I don't hear it enough.” This was true.

“Is this it
here?” she asked, pointing out the red canopy that sheltered
the entrance to Pastafaria. He nodded in response and parked the car
in one of the several better spots.
Good,
he thought,
it'll
be quiet.

Romance is
regulated.

“Two?”
the hostess asked. She was an older red-haired woman with warm
vitality. A happy employee.

“Yes please,”
Andy said. “Corner table, if you can.”

“Sure thing,”
was her answer, then she lead them through the green-carpeted room
with two menus cradled in her arm.

The place was dead
with only three other tables occupied out of the two dozen. She
brought them to a half-sized table draped in a deep purple cloth and
decorated with an already lit candle. She set the menus down and said
that she would be back to take their drink orders personally. They
thanked her and opened up their menus.

“Get anything
delicious that you want,” he said.

“What if I
wanted a bag of rocks?” she replied. “Something not
delicious.”

“Well then
you clearly can't have it,” Andy replied. “Although, it
depends on the kind of bag.”

She laughed. He
smiled at that.

“You're a bit
of a weirdo,” Haley commented, getting her silverware oriented.
“I like that.”

Andy only had a
shrug to reply with as he began looking more attentively at his menu.
“I'm thinking that I'll have some hash-browns smothered in
green chili with a side of,” he turned the page, “macaroni.”

“Hash browns
for dinner?” Haley echoed, flipping through the menu. “Where
do you even see that?”

He didn't. Steven
had told him that it was an off-menu dish that they offered and gave
it a raving review. He didn't much fancy pasta as it was. “Nowhere,”
he answered. “I'm just going to tell the waitress that that is
what I want and hope I get something along those lines.”

Haley's eyes
glistened as she chuckled. Everything about her face seemed to smile
at once as she peered into his eyes dreamily. He couldn't keep
himself from getting lost in them as they smiled. Such beautiful
eyes.

“This is
really nice, Andy,” she thanked him. “Thank you so much.
I'm already having fun.” Her white teeth were seemingly
perfect, shining through her lips as she spoke.

“Is your job
fun?” Andy transitioned.

She scoffed. “I
wouldn't say that it's fun,” she replied. “But it's good
work.”

“What do you
do?”

Haley seemed to
search for the words. “I'm a journalist. I do a lot of snooping
around and expose bad people doing bad stuff,” she answered.
She was distracted by movement behind Andy.

The hostess arrived
back at their table. “Can I get you any drinks?” she
asked, a notepad absent from her hands. She could undoubtedly
remember their order being that they were the only ones that she was
serving. There was one other waiter who seemed to have the others
under control. Andy was certain that she may be the manager as well.
We should feel honored,
he thought.

“A glass of
the house red please,” Haley requested.

The hostess turned
to Andy. “Champagne?” He semi-asked, having not looked at
the menu to see if they served it.

He was in luck.
“Certainly,” the hostess beamed and then disappeared.

“How about
you?” Haley asked. Andy had half forgotten what they were
talking about. “What do you do?”

Andy didn't take
too long to come up with his story. “Well, I guess you could
say I'm a journalist, too,” he began. “Well, not really,
more of a columnist.”

“Ooh, are you
any good?” Haley asked, leaning over her folded arms.

Andy laughed. “No,”
he joked. “I don't really know, but I don't make much doing
that. Fortunately, I don't need much.” Even he was impressed by
his lies.

“Why does
that bring you to Lumnin?” Haley asked. The interest in her
eyes was strong.

Andy smiled as he
thought. “It doesn't really. I wanted a quiet place to write my
novel.”

She was in awe. He
felt rather ashamed that none of it was true. Could she be this
interested in him if she knew who he really was? If she knew why he
was really here? He tried not to think about it. He just tried to
enjoy the evening.

“What's your
novel about?” she asked.

“It's a
romantic war story,” Andy explained out of thin air. “A
soldier goes AWOL in the desert to protect a civilian he has fallen
in love with from a foreign squad. It's a lot of just cheesy,
convenient action.”

Her eyes lit up.
She believed every word. “I think that sounds wonderful! I
would love to read that when you finish it,” she encouraged.
Her voice was as beautiful as her face. The slightest thing could
scar a face like that, like footprints through virgin snow.

He chuckled,
placing his elbows on the table. His posture began to relax. “You're
very kind,” he replied. A moment of silence passed as they
beamed into each others eyes. “So tell me, what does work bring
you here for?”

Haley leaned back.
The drinks had come fast. She took a sip from her glass. The hostess
took their meal orders before departing again. The young woman seated
across from Andy wiped her lips delicately on her napkin. “Have
you ever heard of Decree?” she asked.

“Decree?”
Andy repeated with confusion.

“Yeah, it's a
penitentiary company founded by Michael Kree. They specialize in
building brand new privatized prisons in isolated pockets of rural
America.”

All of this was
alien to Andy. Nothing she said rang a bell. “Privatized
prisons?” Andy echoed.

“Since the
early eighties. Recently, they've built a new prison about ten miles
outside of town. The very first privatized supermax penitentiary.
Those are the places where the judicial system stuffs all of the most
violent criminals in the U.S. This is where people like Ted Bundy and
Charlie Manson go.”

“Ah,”
Andy responded, acting like he was starting to understand.

“I'm sorry, I
don't mean to bore you with this,” Haley stopped herself. Andy
made a shooing gesture at her to signify that it was no bother.
“Sometimes when I get started, I can rant about these
bastards.”

Andy nodded. “What
is exactly so bad about Decree?” he asked. He hoped the
question did not offend her.

It didn't. Her
intense passion about the subject drove her to want to inform rather
than argue. Andy meant not to derail her momentum one bit. She was
spilling the secrets he was paid so much to exploit. “This new
prison is super hush-hush. They don't like visitors or people
snooping about. With some help and a bit of luck, though, I found out
that this supermax is housing some pretty average criminals. Drug
offenders, thieves, sexual deviants and civil disruptors. Not violent
criminals. Decree covers this up by fudging their records and hiring
lawyers to overemphasize how dangerous some of the defendants are.
There is a rumor that they even stage violent outbreaks in
lower-level prisons so that they can come in and say, 'Your jails are
unsafe. You need to use ours.'”

Andy thought he was
beginning to see. He nodded to indicate that he was paying attention.
That he was in fact hanging on her every word.

Haley sipped again
from her wine and Andy did the same with his own glass. “It's
only rumors at this point. We could have more of a lead if Decree
didn't have such a cold method of firing former employees. We've had
people turning up dead all over the world before they can testify one
word against those monsters.”

St. Petersburg,
Andy thought.

“Supposedly,
the big bad secret that they have is that they have been performing
some pretty advanced medical research. Not normal stuff, either. They
are hammering hard at some pretty major cures and inoculations,”
Haley explained. Her energy was remarkable and attractive to Andy.
His attention was forthright. “The methods they use go against
some pretty basic human rights, so that's why they keep it within the
unwatched walls of Decree prisons. So no one can look in and see that
they are infecting their prisoners with the AIDS virus and exposing
them to high levels of carcinogens just so they have plenty of sick
people to work on.”

“Wow,”
Andy said, relaying only a small amount of his true shock.
Could
it all really be true? Something must be misinformation,
Andy
thought.
They couldn't hide that much.

“Now if you
think about it, you could understand the high mortality rates in
their prisons better,” Haley continued. Andy was doing well at
appearing appalled. He didn't have to try very hard. “So they
have to do something to keep their prisons filled. A lot of the time
they will doctor some of the paperwork on lower threat criminals, or
even load their trials. Recently, however, I got a very wild lead
that they have even begun seizing control of local police
departments. That's why I'm here. I believe that the Lumnin PD is the
first one they're trying to buy.”

“How could
they possibly buy the police?” Andy asked. He was toeing on the
line of exposing his professional interest in the subject. Still, he
did not falter. She was excited to see his interest.

“Bribe them,”
Haley started after a genuine smile. “Have their own employees
enter the department, something along those lines. I'm a little vague
on all of the details, but you know, that's why I'm here. To find the
details.”