Page 19 of Fighting for Tawny

“Why wasn’t she recruited?”

“Too stupid,” Perry Jones piped up. “She flunked out of high school.”

Cohen lifted a brow. “I don’t see the correlation, but let’s move on. Had she been hanging around anyone she ordinarily wouldn’t associate with?”

“No, just her usual crowd. And the reason why we didn’t recruit her is that her cellmate was someone we eliminated. If we had done the same to her, questions would have been raised,” Stoltz replied.

“Is that so? And you don’t think the inmates will raise questions when she doesn’t return to the prison?” Cohen demanded.

“It’s covered. We’ll say she died en route to the hospital, and her remains were cremated. We’ll even hold a memorial service for her in the chapel,” Stoltz suggested.

“And how will you explain this to the DOC?” Cohen asked. “They’re already breathing down your neck.”

Stoltz’s face grew red. “It was an accidental poisoning, nothing more. She wasn’t suicidal.”

“What if she resurfaces, spouting wild stories and tossing around accusations?”

“She won’t. She’s an escaped convict. No one would listen to her. And if she did, I’m sure Your Honor would prevent her from ever seeing the light of day again.”

“Huh.” Cohen drummed his fingers on the table, unconvinced. “What about the doctor? Is she a loose end?”

“I questioned her extensively. She knew nothing,” Stoltz reassured the others.

“In the meantime, I want information on the EMTs who were on the scene,” Cohen ordered.

Sweat continued to tickle Whitcomb’s back. “I spoke to them myself. They swore they delivered their patient to Chino Regional, and video footage bears it out. After that, no one knows what happened.”

“I think we’re overlooking the obvious. She saw an opportunity to escape and seized it.” Perry Jones signaled the bartender to refill his mug.

“How the hell did you graduate from law school and pass the bar exam?” Cohen’s voice resonated with scorn.

Jones’ eyes narrowed. “I’m not so dumb that I can’t figure out that the best course of action is to report her as an escapee to the fucking police and let them start a statewide manhunt for her. She’s got nowhere to go and no one to turn to. Law enforcement will find her.”

Stoltz met Cohen’s grim expression. “What do you think?”

“For what it’s worth, I think Jones is right,” Whitcomb interjected. “It’s too farfetched to believe she has powerful friends who aided her escape and disappearance. And saying she died is too risky.”

Cohen leaned forward and lowered his voice, “All right. Alert the authorities. As far as the network is concerned, this is a routine escape by a prisoner and has nothing to do with anyone associated with our enterprise.”

“At approximately eleven forty-two yesterday morning, inmate Bette Simpson, age thirty-one, suffered a seizure due to self-ingested rat poison. Emergency personnel were contacted immediately while we administered CPR. EMTs arrived, stabilized Bette Simpson, and transported her to Chino Regional, where she subsequently vanished.”

Tawny sat in the common room, along with several other inmates, all of whom had their eyes glued to the large screen TV. No one spoke as they listened to the warden announce Bette Simpson’s daring escape.

Reporters for various local news agencies shouted questions simultaneously at Warden Stoltz, most of which inquired about the delay in alerting the public that a convict was at large.

The warden responded by assuring them that Bette Simpson wasn’t a threat to anyone. “At the time of her disappearance, she was unarmed. She was serving a five-year sentence for drug possession with three years left on her term.”

“Five years for drug possession? Come on, Warden, isn’t that an outrageous sentence, especially since the prison system is overcrowded?”

Stoltz whipped his head toward the reporter. Faith Stoker. Tawny smiled. Judging by his dour expression, Faith nailed him, and he knew it.

“Ms. Stoker, I supervise the inmates. I don’t sentence them. That’s for the judge to decide.”

“Apparently, you don’t supervise them too well. Aside from this latest incident with Bette Simpson, more women have either disappeared or overdosed under your watch than in the entire history of the California Institution for Women. How do you account for them?”

Several women in the common room gasped and exchanged worried looks.

“What is she talking about?” Jo asked.

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