Page 27 of Fighting for Tawny

Everyone laughed. After they finished eating, they cleaned up their table and went their separate ways.

Tawny tried to gauge how Moira handled lunch with the warden from her demeanor, but she was laser-focused on her instruction. All the inmates had to pay close attention, and their hands moved nonstop across the pages of their spiral notebooks. Most of them hadn’t been in a classroom environment in years. Old habits had to be broken and new ones learned if they wanted to survive.

Class ended at four-thirty. As Yolanda suspected, Moira announced their first written quiz in the morning. “Grades will be posted, ladies, from highest to lowest. Trust me, you do not want to be in the lowest position.”

Half the class spoke to Moira on their way out. Tawny lingered with Yolanda, who said with a grin, “I called it, Captain Finnigan. I knew you was gonna nail us with a quiz.”

Moira’s brown eyes glinted like Finnigan’s. “That’s a great start. Get a good night’s sleep, you two. Tomorrow, we start physical training.”

“Can’t wait.” Tawny paused, then added in a quiet tone, “Thanks.”

Moira nodded. One of the new guards escorted her away, and Tawny and Yolanda headed in the opposite direction.

As soon as Finnigan’s sister left CIFW, she sent him a text and asked if they could meet for dinner at Tuscany’s, their father’s favorite Italian restaurant tucked away in a section of LA formerly known as San Pedro. It still housed a large portion of Italians who had immigrated from Genoa and Sicily. Moira and Marcus used to tease their father about being more Italian than Irish. He would teasingly respond with, “Aside from whiskey, Irish fare is too bland for my taste.” Finnigan agreed to his sister’s request, anxious to hear any information about Tawny.

This was the siblings’ first visit to Tuscany’s since their father died. Finnigan waited for Moira in the softly lit foyer of the Old-World restaurant. When she arrived, he greeted her with an awkward, “Hi.”

He half-expected a hug after their surprise reunion at SWAT’s command center, but Moira held herself aloof. Not all their hurt over the years could be easily resolved. But dinner tonight was a step in the right direction. “Hi,” she responded in a casual tone.

A hostess dressed in a black maxi dress led them to a table draped in white linen and set with sparkling water goblets and shiny silverware. She placed the menus encased in leather in front of them and said their waiter would be with them shortly.

Both needed a glass of wine after a long day and ordered the Tuscany’s house special—a fragrant bouquet sweet to the taste buds. They clinked their glasses and toasted their father.

“To Dad,” Finnigan declared.

“To Dad,” Moira echoed. “He’d be really proud of you.”

“Of you, too.”

Their waiter brought a basket of warm Italian bread and two small plates of herbs. He added Tuscany’s own brand of olive oil and then took their order. The siblings sipped their wine and ate a slice of the Italian bread before Finnigan leaned forward, his face serious and concerned.

“How’s Tawny?”

“Granted, I haven’t seen her in person for a while, but she looked paler and thinner. From what I observed, she’s holding herself together well under pressure.”

“What did she say when you gave her my letter?”

“She thanked me with tears in her eyes.”

Finnigan’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Jesus, Moira, I didn’t want to make her cry.”

“Well, I think it was unavoidable under the circumstances. Whatever you said must have affected her deeply because, after lunch, she positively radiated with happiness.”

Finnigan let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, great. God, I hope we break this case soon. So, how did it go today?”

“The class went great. For what it’s worth, Warden Stoltz chose a very capable group of women.”

“We have their names and are gathering as much information as we can on them. Right now, there are two troubling facts about them. They’re all in their mid to late twenties, and they don’t have anyone on the outside who cares about them. Four of them received harsh sentences from Judge Cohen for prostitution.” Finnigan paused and ate another slice of bread.

“So, you’re saying that these women are expendable.”

“Right. And these commonalities fit Jiena’s theory that they’re somehow being used as drug mules.”

“That means the corruption runs deep and strikes at the heart of our justice system. Do you have evidence the captain in charge of the fire program was a part of the operation? I don’t want to believe that someone tasked with saving lives would knowingly put them in danger, though in reality, I know it happens all too often.”

“No. The fire captain is off site during the night unless there’s an emergency. Two guards supervise the women, so it’s likely that they’re point men for the organization.”

“Do you think all the candidates are being recruited?”

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