Page 20 of Fighting for Tawny

“Shh.” Yolanda held a finger to her lips. “I want to hear this.”

Faith rattled Stoltz. He ran a telltale finger underneath his shirt collar to loosen it. Sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip. Tension radiated through the TV screen.

“Ms. Stoker, please refrain from asking irrelevant questions.”

Other reporters vied for the warden’s attention, shouting over each other and drowning out Faith’s response to Stoltz’s evasion of her question. U. S. Attorney Judd Morgan stood behind Stoltz. His rigid posture and blazing eyes indicated his displeasure. With whom or what Tawny could only guess. Next to him, the district attorney for San Bernadino County wore a stern expression on his tanned face.

“What’s being done to apprehend Bette Simpson?” a reporter yelled above the cacophony.

“I’ll allow Sheriff O’Grady to answer that question.” Warden Stoltz stepped away from the microphone, most likely relieved to have the opportunity to avoid any more questioning.

Tawny respected Sheriff O’Grady. He held the officers under his command to high-performance standards while on duty and fostered positive community relationships with the sheriff’s department.

O’Grady walked up to the microphone. “First, let me reiterate that Bette Simpson poses no physical danger to the community. She is not, I repeat, not a violent offender. At this time, we have state and local law enforcement working together to apprehend her. Checkpoints are now in effect in case she’s hitched a ride or possibly stolen a vehicle. In addition, K-9 units are canvassing the area. If Bette Simpson is on foot, she won’t get far.” O’Grady’s strong and husky voice rang with confidence. “We expect her to be back in custody within twenty-four hours.”

Sheriff O’Grady answered several more questions before the live press conference ended with comments by U.S. Attorney Judd Morgan, who echoed the sheriff’s reassurances.

The TV station returned to its regular programming, yet none of the women moved or said a word for a few seconds. Then, as though they possessed a hive mindset, they gravitated toward Tawny as one body, buzzing with questions and assuming she knew the answers.

“T, what’s going on?”

“How many of us are missing or dead? Maybe Bette was on to something with her crazy conspiracy theories, and she’s been vaporized.”

“What about Nixie?”

“And Lucy? Didn’t she die of an overdose?”

“We were told some of us were transferred due to overcrowding. Was that a lie?”

“T, we saw you talking to Bette the other day on the bleachers. Were you in on it?”

The last question came from Jo. “No. I swear on the Bible, I had no idea what Bette was planning or that something like this would happen.” That much was true, but the lie turned Tawny’s stomach sour. She imagined the fallout from Bette’s escape would be severe.

She held up her hands and spoke in a gentle but firm voice to calm the women down. “Look, Bette took a gamble. The only way we’ll know if it paid off is if we never see her again. With the statewide manhunt for her, it’s unlikely she’ll make it out of California. When they catch her, they’ll haul her back here in handcuffs. She’ll no doubt have extra time added to her sentence.”

“You mean if someone don’t kill Bette first,” Yolanda murmured.

Tawny couldn’t deny the possibility. She knew Bette was safe but could only say, “Let’s hope and pray not. In the meantime, be prepared to pay the price for what Bette did.”

“What does that mean?” Jo questioned.

“You’ll see.”

The fallout started as soon as Warden Stoltz returned to CIFW. Everyone was hustled into their cells and denied their usual privileges and freedoms. Some demanded why, and the guards, who’d been duped and were now on high alert, told the women to shut their filthy mouths and do as they said. Several of the guards roughed up the women who protested and left bruises on their arms. Even Pomeroy, whom Tawny regarded as one of the good ones, lost his temper and manhandled an inmate.

Then, the long hours of questioning began. It started with Grandma Mo, whose intimate and extensive knowledge of the prison and its inmates made her an immediate suspect. When Grandma Mo learned of Bette’s escape, Tawny hoped that she’d wisely disposed of the cell phone that had been used to call Agent Thomas. Warden Stoltz interrogated Grandma Mo for two hours, but he couldn’t wring information from her that she didn’t have. She’d shuffled past Tawny’s cell with her head held high and a triumphant gleam in her eyes. A few of the inmates applauded her return to the cell block.

Tawny’s turn to be questioned came after dinner. Since the interrogations of the women yielded no results, and they hadn’t been allowed to watch the news, the first question she asked when she faced Warden Stoltz was, “Have they found Bette yet?”

Worry flickered in his eyes. “No.”

“They will. Someone will spot her and call the authorities.”

“You’re fast becoming the inmates’ new best friend. A leader. So, I’m demanding that you confess everything you know about Bette’s escape.”

Tawny objected to his use of the word “confess.” “I don’t have anything to confess because I don’t know anything.”

“You reportedly spoke to her before she poisoned herself.”

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