Page 52 of The White Picket Fence

“Yep. He wasn’t cheap, but he was damn good at it.”

“How much?” Vito asked.

“Depended. If you were a short-timer, it was favors. Usually redeemable when the guy got out. If you had family who visited, it was favors from them—the family would get Kevin information. If you were a lifer like me, it was fifty percent of whatever you made working whatever job you were assigned.”

“Inmate pay ranges from about twenty-five cents to fifty cents an hour,” Vito murmured to Tino.

“So Hale was making a pittance off his protection,” Tino murmured back.

“Pittance to him,” Greene said. “It was a hell of a lot to me. A day’s wage won’t even buy a bar of soap from the goddamn commissary. Still, I wish the SOB was still here.” He held out his arm, showing an angry-looking wound from a recent cut. “Some asshole got me in the exercise yard.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Vito said. “Tell me more about Kevin Hale.”

Greene narrowed his eyes. “And you’ll move me to Harrisburg?”

“DA says yes, if what you tell us is verifiable.”

Greene scoffed. “So you’re not promising anything.”

“I’m not allowed to,” Vito said. “You know that. But if you help us, I’ll do my best to help you get closer to your daughter. That I do promise.”

Greene pursed his lips, thinking. Then he nodded. “Like I said, Kevin was a crazy SOB. I mean, really nuts. Like schizo. Should have been medicated. But he could focus, so maybe not schizo. Hell, I’m not a shrink.” He watched Tino for a long moment. “I’m still not sure why you’re here. You’re a sketch artist.”

“In case you can describe someone we might be interested in,” Tino said, which wasn’t a total lie. Not the truth either, but it seemed to satisfy Greene.

“Okay, whatever. Kevin was focused, like I said. You might even say he was obsessed.”

“With?” Vito asked.

“A woman. Oh my God.” Greene rolled his eyes. “Always the same woman. I feel sorry for the chick if he ever finds her.”

“Her name?” Vito asked.

“He called her Charlie. Short for Charlotte, he said.”

A chill ran over Tino’s skin. He’d expected this, but it still freaked him out to hear. His expression must have shown as much because Greene cocked his head.

“You know her, I take it,” Greene said easily.

“He seems to be hunting her,” Vito said. “He’s killed several people already trying to find her. Put another two in the hospital. One was a seventy-five-year-old woman. Beat her near to death.”

Greene scowled. “Now that ain’t right. The ones I killed were young and dishonest. Beating an old woman is just wrong.”

Tino had to squash the most ridiculous urge to laugh but was able to keep his expression neutral. He hoped.

“I agree—with the last part, at least,” Vito said. “What did he say about Charlie?”

“That they were an item in high school. Guy’s got to be pushing forty and he’s still talking about high school.” Another eye roll. “Said she left her boyfriend for him. For Kevin,” he clarified. “He said they were going to get married. He was going to buy her this house.” A put-upon sigh. “Oh my God. Always about the woman and the house.”

“What house?” Vito asked.

“He said he bought her a house. He was so happy with himself.”

“While he was still here?” Vito pressed. “He bought a house from prison?”

“Yep.”

“Was this one of the ‘favors’ he negotiated with other inmates’ families?” Vito asked, making air quotes.

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