To avoid an argument, she attempted to redirect the conversation. “Can we talk about what really matters?”

“I’m in the middle of a divorce, Peyton. I’m trying to let you know that I’m interested. And all you can do is obsess about someone who’d be terrible for you. Do you realize that getting with a guy like that would ruin your whole career?”

She wanted to ask how Virgil would ruin her career. As long as they waited until after the investigation, it should be fine. But Rick hadn’t qualified his statement. If she chose Virgil over him, would he try to sabotage her position with the CDCR?

She suspected he might, which was shocking and insulting and only made her dislike him more. But Virgil’s stint in the infirmary was too fresh for her to forget the danger he was in. Maintaining the peace with Rick would create a far more stable foundation from which to help him. Anything unrelated to getting him out as quickly as possible could be dealt with later. “I just told you that Weston Jager passed me a note. Aren’t you the least bit curious about what it said?”

“What’d it say?” he asked, but she could tell he was still preoccupied with his jealousy.

She removed the torn paper from her pocket and handed it to him.

“‘Get me out of here, and I’ll get your man in.’” He glanced up at her. “What the hell?”

“I put him in the SHU because of the fight. I didn’t want to give him and his pals the chance to gang up on Virgil again. I felt the others would be much less likely to attack if Weston wasn’t there to give the go-ahead. Even if they did, Virgil would have one less opponent, right? But Weston’s scared of spending too much time in the SHU, blames his buddy’s stay there two years ago for sending him to the psych ward for good. So he wants out and he’s offering us a deal.”

“Then he knows?”

“That’s the odd part. I don’t think he does.”

“But this note…”

“Weston would never turn. He’s too strong right now, too angry. And if he knew, he would’ve gone after Virgil in a different way. It would’ve been serious from the beginning.”

“Getting shanked isn’t serious?”

“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….




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