The next morning I woke up at eight o’clock. I wiped the sleep out of my eyes. Hector was the first thought that came to my mind. I rolled over from the comfort of my blanket, unclipping my phone from the charger. I lay on my back and punched in my little brother’s number.
“Hey, little brother,” I said sleepily.
“How many times have I asked you not to call me that? I’m a grown man. Not your little brother,” he grumbled.
“I know that. To me, though, you’re the one I used to boss around when we were making fortresses in the backyard,” I added in a melancholy tone.
“I remember that, and you’re still telling me what to do. Nothing’s changed.”
“Listen. I have an idea of what to do about your situation. I’m not saying don’t leave town. That might be a good idea. But I know an inmate at USP that’s part of the Outlaw Souls. He may have some insight into what to do. No guarantees, but it’s a start.”
“You would do that? Outlaw Souls are a direct enemy to Las Balas, so that would help a lot. I have to do something. I am taking off, though.”
“Where are you headed? Can I reach you?” I sat up in bed and threw the blanket back. It was time to get up.
“Eventually. I don’t want you connected to me. If they find out you’re my sister, then you’re dead meat. I can’t do that to you. I will send word when I get going. I’m heading to San Fran.”
“Can’t you just tell me now?” I steamed.
“No.” Hector had put his metaphorical foot down.
Flustered, I blew my thick hair out of my face and looked in the mirror. My curves were getting a little out of control. I blamed it on the stress of the job.
“Okay. Do what you have to do and stay safe. You’re going to need to contact me somehow. I will have information for you,” I said.
“I know. Like I said, it will only be a couple of days. I’m just going to let the heat die down a little,” Hector argued.
“Okay. Well, let me get off the phone and organize this prison visit.” I surrendered because there was not much I could do if he wouldn’t listen to reason. I moved to the coffee pot in the kitchen.
“Great. See you when I’m looking at you. Take care, Amber.”
“Bye.” I hung up the phone and waited for my coffee to get ready. I made a call to USP and got the switchboard.
“Hello. Can I please be put through to Warden Smith? My name is Amber Atwood. I’m from the Human Services Agency in Merced.”
“One moment, please, and I will see if he is available to speak with you.”
I shifted my weight from one leg to the other as I anticipated his voice.
“Hi, Amber. I didn’t expect a call from you so soon. What can I do for you?” Warden Smith answered with anticipation. I could literally hear his lips smacking together.
“Hi, Warden Smith. I know this is an abnormal request, but I had a visit with Colt Winters recently.” I paused as I concocted the lie. “I forgot a few details from his file, and something has come up with his daughter. I need to speak to him right away. Do you think I can arrange a visit with him? I don’t want his visiting hours to be affected, though. This is a special visit.”
The warden let the silence hang thickly in the air for a moment. “We normally don’t allow that, but Colt is a model citizen, and I’m a reasonable man. Plus, it’s you that’s asking. For anyone else, I wouldn’t, but I will get the message to him and come back to you with a time and date.”
“Great. Thank you!” Relief flooded through my body with the news.
Where there’s a will, there’s a way.
Five
Colt
Raymond was on duty, stalking the prison halls. Raymond was a guard I’d been warned about beforehand. This man had an ego the size of a mountain and the anger of a pit bull. Once his jaws locked down on you, there was no telling what damage he could do. His chubby fingers rested on his slick black baton. The crunch of his polished black boots could be heard a mile away. The other guards’ boots I couldn’t hear, but Raymond’s I could. It sounded like he had steel taps on the bottom of them. I never bothered to look at the time some days, but now, since I was getting out, I tended to glance at it a little more.
Errol was being disgusting and clipping his nails, dangling his feet over his bunk bed. Raymond peeped in the cell with his beady yellowish eyes. His overgrown belly rubbed against the cell bars.
“Colt. Got a message for you. Get over here,” Raymond commanded.
