Life Sentences (16 page)

P
ILAR TOOK A DEEP
breath and pushed open the door to the warden’s office. His secretary greeted her with an efficient, cold nod, and directed Pilar through to the inner chamber. In seconds Pilar stood in front of Whitefeather.

The warden put down a file. “What brings you here today, Doctor?”

Pilar mentally composed herself before she answered. She had to use the right words so Whitefeather wouldn’t think his orientation prediction had been on target. “My life has been threatened by an inmate and his brother,” she said as collectedly as possible.

“We all get threats. It’s part of the job.” His lips pursed as he appeared to think about what she said. “Perhaps you should transfer to another prison.” That was quick. Was he hoping that was why she was there?

“Transfer! I don’t want a transfer.” Pilar held up her report. “I want this investigated.”

Whitefeather raised his hand like a patrolman stopping traffic. “There have been other rumors that you don’t know about, which leads me to believe you have become a security risk.”

Pilar leaned across his desk and asked, “Me, a security risk?” Now angry, she was trying not to get out of control. “What about the guy who threatened to kill me?” She threw her written account on the desk. “Read it. Read itnow.” She needed that time to quiet her nerves.

Whitefeather backed away; his chair squeaked from years of use. He read the report. Every now and then he peered over his glasses at Pilar. When he finished, the warden laid the narrative down. He said nothing.

Breathing hard, as if she had run a couple of miles, Pilar collapsed into a chair. Visibly shaken, she asked, “What about the guy that called me yesterday from outside who said he was Corbett’s brother?” She was unable to hold back her tears any longer. She blubbered on, more afraid than angry or ashamed. “His brother said he was going to kill me. And, he’s on the outside.”

The warden shifted and cleared his throat. “What kind of signal are you giving these guys? I tried to warn you …”

Pilar jumped out of her chair. Whitefeather moved back again. Was he afraid Pilar would come at him over the desk? That was exactly what she wanted to do. “Warn me?” She over-pronounced the words. “What about the pervert who telephoned me? What signal have I given him? And, why haven’t you mentioned these rumors before now?”

“Calm down. I’m trying to help.” Warden Whitefeather raised both his hands. Palms faced out. “Do you know what a “Duck” is in prison?”

“No,” Pilar answered as Tommy’s conversation with Jane came back to her. “But, I’ve heard the term.”

“It’s when prisoners set up a vulnerable employee. Are you sure you haven’t put yourself in that kind of position, consciously or unconsciously?”

“What? How can you say that after what I just told you?” Pilar pointed to the paper on his desk.

“Think about it, Doctor Brookstone. Your intentions are noble, but they could mislead prisoners into believing you care more personally about them than you might a patient. Meanwhile, I’ll turn your report over to the state police.”

“That’s not enough.” Pilar pounded her fist on his desk. “We’re talking about my life.”

“There’s little else we can do right now, but investigate this just as you asked.” He brushed his hand through his hair. “Until we get to the bottom of these threats, be careful.”

“CAREFUL. What does that mean?” Without waiting for an answer Pilar marched out, slamming the door. Did the warden know about Chad? She was in trouble, and there was no one to help.

T
HE
S
UNDAY OF
T
HANKSGIVING
weekend, Pilar drove to Thunder Bay Inn. Despite Celeste’s unrelenting pleas for Pilar to come home for the holiday, a turkey sandwich and NPR were more appetizing than a seven-course meal with her parents. After her conversation with Whitefeather the week before, and the disturbing telephone call she received earlier that morning from Chad, Pilar needed to unwind. Chad had accused her of having a boyfriend on the outside. He wasn’t about to be convinced that Pilar was alone at a movie at the Delft Theater Saturday night when he called. How could she explain her own desperation? Without Chad, especially on a holiday, she too was lonely, but chose to stay close to the prison. As close as she could be to Chad.

Pilar decided that a drive along Lake Superior for a late lunch at Thunder Bay Inn was the right treatment for her blues. But then, a black Ford pickup truck followed her from Marquette to Big Bay on the remote two-lane road going to the inn. Pilar noticed it right away, when she turned out of the apartment complex.

Normally she wouldn’t be concerned, but she drove slowly because of the rain. Most cars passed her and the truck. When she slowed, the truck slowed, too. Whoever was behind her had to be as cautious or as unfamiliar with the roads as Pilar, though she was surprised that anyone driving such a big truck had anything to fear.

Rain turned to snow as Pilar stopped outside the white clapboard inn made famous by the movie,
Anatomy of a Murder
. The truck parked down the street alongside Lake Independence, opposite the inn. The truck’s windows were tinted. This was no coincidence. The driver was heading anywhere Pilar was. But, why?

Pilar waited for the driver to get out. When he didn’t, she decided not to go inside. Why take a chance the driver would tail Pilar in the dark the twenty-five wilderness miles back to Marquette? She certainly would be vulnerable if he decided to play games. The highway bordered the isolated, rocky cliffs of Lake Superior along an unpopulated andheavily wooded area. It was a perfect place for someone to get away with a murder. No witnesses.

She locked the car doors, then reluctantly turned her car around and headed back to town. She’d be in for a night of TV, a frozen dinner, and dreaming about seeing Chad the next day. The truck followed. Again if she speeded up, so did the truck. If she slowed, it did, too. Whoever was driving, possibly Corbett’s brother, made no attempt at concealing his mission. Pilar’s eyes darted rapidly back and forth from the road in front to the rear view mirror. Snow came down as hard as hail. Though it was only mid-afternoon, it looked like dusk. The windshield wipers slapped loudly in rapid, constant motion. Pilar’s heart kept pace.

Once Pilar pulled into her carport in her apartment complex the truck sped past and out of sight, taillights blurred into the falling snow. Pilar’s hands froze to the steering wheel as though the tight grip protected her. In that position, she waited in the idling Subaru for what seemed like hours. Not until her neighbors came home did Pilar have the courage to leave. When they parked nearby, she turned off the engine, got out, and followed them inside.

After Pilar double-locked the front door, she checked the windows, thankful her rooms faced the lake and not the street. She didn’t want to know if the truck was still out there, like someone on surveillance. If it was, who could she call for help?

Feeling consoled for the first time by the barren, cheerless rooms, Pilar built a fire and put the kettle on for tea. The blinking light on the answering machine was probably her mother calling for the tenth time. Who really needed the comforting? At least she wasn’t sharing another meal with her and Marcus.

Prepared to choke back the guilt she felt when she heard her mother’s sad voice, Pilar punched the button on the machine and waited for her words. Instead, Chad’s voice came on the line. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he said with sadness that rivaled Celeste’s. “I miss you. Sweet dreams.”

Pilar listened again to Chad’s message. She was intrigued by how he was able to telephone without going through an operator to place a collect call. Chad’s call must have been placed by a third party. Perhaps it was some kind of a scam the prisoners dreamed up. In any case, she and Chad still had to be careful. Suspicious calls were traced and monitored from the prison.

The second message was from Julie. “Where have you been, old girl? I haven’t heard from you since you went to that prison in the wilderness. Don’t they have phones in that place? It’s been too long. I think I can get a way for a long weekend to visit. Give me a call, pronto.”

Julie’s perky voice made Pilar laugh out loud. She dialed Julie’s number. After the second ring, she hung up. Pilar wanted to confide in her about what she’d been up to. She wanted to believe Julie could accept her relationship with Chad. Most desperately, she wanted to see Julie’s cheery face. But, could she trust her?

Pilar picked up the receiver again. She held it to her ear and stared at the key pad. She slammed the phone down and cleared all the messages. Pilar grabbed her cup of Good Earth Tea and plopped down in front of the fire. “I’m in this alone,” she told the flames.

O
N
M
ONDAY
P
ILAR’S INBOX
was overflowing. In her lab coat and settled at the desk, she tackled the pile before her first patient reported. Her hands shook when she finished the threatening kite from a prisoner.

Her picture was attached to the paper. The photo wasn’t from any ID. It was the one she gave to Chad. She was sitting on the bed in her apartment. It was innocent enough, but Chad had other photos that are far more incriminating. There was no way Jameson could get a picture like that unless Chad had been careless. How could she have been so stupid to believe they could hide such evidence from those who wanted to find it?

Pilar turned the piece of paper over and over. The truck driver came to mind. Was he connected to Jameson?

A computer search of both medical and institutional files revealed no prisoner by his name or number existed in the entire system. Despite having to face Warden Whitefeather a second time, Pilar had to show him that letter, too.

Rocking her head in her hands, Pilar laughed. Whitefeather was right. She may have to leave because of her involvement with a prisoner. How did she get into this? Never mind. Who was the snitch? Someone who had seen Chad and her together. Jane? Tommy Johnson? Officer Leonard? Who?

L
EONARD STOPPED
P
ILAR IN
the hallway on the way to the warden’s office. “You look mighty upset, Doctor Brookstone,” he said, apparently enjoying her agitation. He focused on the “kite” she clenched. Perhaps he knew about the warnings and the death threats. Perhaps he helped send them.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” She had to squeeze by him since he didn’t relinquish enough space for her to pass. Their bodies touched and Leonard sighed. He nauseated Pilar.

The warden’s secretary signaled Pilar into his office. He looked up from a stack of files, removed his out-of-stylewire rim glasses, and said, “I’ve been expecting this meeting.” He motioned her to sit.

“Why?” Pilar was feeling more and more like she was the object of a conspiracy. She sat, careful not to expose too much leg. “Do you have some other information I should know about?”

“No.” He replaced his glasses and leaned back. The familiar chair squeak was almost soothing. Whitefeather rested his hands, fingertips pressed together, at his chest. “But, I did warn you there could be trouble for a young, attractive woman working in this prison, and after our last talk … ” He shrugged.

Pilar straightened, ready to do battle, and handed him the letter. “Why would I want to be the recipient of anything like this? I’m not a masochist.”

Warden Whitefeather took the letter and read it. He fluttered the picture and asked, “How do you suppose he got this?”

“My ID picture was recently stolen from an employee’s office and sent to me with a “kite”.” Pilar moved forward and stared so hard it was as though she could see inside the warden’s mind. “Now, how do you suppose that happened? A careless employee? Or, perhaps an employee bent on getting me in trouble? Maybe Officer Leonard?”

Whitefeather furrowed his forehead. Though he ignored that question, Pilar was sure he tucked it away in his memory bank to use in the future if he needed.

“Perhaps,” he slid the photograph into a desk drawer, “you should transfer to another prison, as I have already suggested. There’s an opening for a medical director at Scott Correctional Facility. You should think about applying.”

Relieved he wouldn’t pursue the picture at that moment, Pilar stood. “That’s how you’ll deal with the fact that someone wants to kill me? Send me away? How thoughtful.”

Whitefeather thrust the letter at her. Pilar raised her hand. “That’s your copy. I have plenty more. Who knows, maybe I’ll put together a scrapbook about my happy days at Hawk Haven Prison.” She didn’t ask for the photograph. She didn’t want the warden to think it was important.

W
HEN
C
HAD APPEARED FOR
the afternoon infirmary call out, Pilar ushered him into her office instead of going to an exam room. A thoughtless move perhaps, especially after she admonished Tommy Johnson for being in there. But, why should she care how she behaved? Pilar was desperate. Jane was the only other person in the area, and she wouldn’t tell anyone anything, if only to protect herself.

As soon as Chad stepped inside, Pilar disclosed everything about the two letters and let him read them. She paced and listened to the pages turn. Chad slumped into a chair. The papers he held quaked like leaves in the wind. He raised his eyes to the ceiling.

The silence in the room hurt Pilar’s ears more than banging gates. Tired of waiting for a response, she spoke. “That’snot all. Whitefeather wants me to transfer to Scott.”

Chad bolted upright, eyes wild. “I’m not ready.”

“What?” Pilar stood in front of him.

His face flushed as he explained. “We haven’t made our plans. We need more time.”

“I may have no time. Doesn’t that matter to you?” She pointed at the “kites” in his hand, and told him about the black truck.

Chad lifted her hand to his cheek and slowly lowered it to his mouth. They both calmed.