Page 17 of Love Bank
“Onion bagel, toasted, cream cheese, and your largest black coffee to go.”
The kid rang me up, intentionally keeping his gaze away from me. Word got around in a small town and everyone knew who the new warden was even if we hadn’t formally met. Poor kid was probably trying to stay under the radar so I wouldn’t know about the underage drinking that happened at the beach sometimes, or the cliff diving that was strictly forbidden off our bluffs, but the kids did anyway once a year or so.
He handed me my change and was already gesturing to the guy behind me. I took a quick glance at his name badge and memorized his face.
“Thanks for the coffee, Lukas.”
His gaze snapped to mine and I could see the sweat dotting his forehead. Interesting.
I grinned and moved on down the counter to collect my breakfast. I was whistling a Blake Shelton tune by the time I made it to my truck and pulled out onto Main Street and then hooked a left on Brinestone Way. It had been a rough week, but I was making friends and had plans for a bonfire tonight. Things were looking up.
* * *
“You have a message from the mayor on your landline and an appointment at nine with Chief Waldo.” Meadow rattled off my daily activities while I got settled in my office, which consisted of mostly throwing my things down and digging into my bagel. Caffeine and carbs: the lifeblood of the American work force.
“Oh, and there was an issue with the overnight staff. One of the cells malfunctioned and Gary, the guy who was arrested for spitting tobacco on the sidewalk in front of City Hall, just walked right out the back door.”
The half-eaten bagel froze in the air halfway to my mouth. Open less than a week and I already had a prison break? Jesus H. Christ. This was how wardens got fired. A glob of cream cheese fell out of my bagel sandwich, sliding off the ledge of my desk and onto my lap, pulling me out of my thoughts. Meadow stood there wringing her hands as if she was personally responsible for the lock not working or the inmate escaping.
I plopped the bagel back on the crumpled paper bag it came in and wiped my hands on a napkin. Suddenly I wasn’t hungry.
“Get the locksmith company on the phone ASAP. Then call Chief Waldo and let him know about the situation. No. Wait. I’ll call him. Just—just get the locksmith over here.”
She practically ran out of the room and closed the door firmly behind her.
I fired up my computer and got ready to document the whole thing. No use trying to hide it. Everyone would find out anyway, so I better get the whole thing documented like I was supposed to. Maybe the mayor would have mercy on me and not fire me on the spot.
I took a big swig of my coffee, clicked open my email, and scrolled absently, stopping on an email from a Lucille Eureka. The name sounded familiar and it was only as I clicked on the email that I put two and two together and realized it was the crazy lady from next door at the fertility clinic.
The email opened, and for the second time in five minutes, I was stunned. My jaw dropped open and some of the coffee I hadn’t swallowed yet dribbled down onto my shirt.
In twenty point, bolded font, the email read:
Keep your inmates away or I’ll go public with your sample.
And there, below the threat, was a picture of an orange specimen cup with a white lid. The label on the side said Sample #264, Bain Sutter.
“Well, shit.”
I bolted out of my chair, sending it rolling back so hard and so fast, it hit the wall and tipped over, making a horrible racket. Meadow peeked her head in and I whipped my hand out to the side in her general direction. My jaw clenched so tight I couldn’t get words out. She took the hint and clicked the door shut again, leaving me to the red-hot anger that threatened to take over all rational thought.
Howdarethat woman blackmail me?
And what an idiot! She put her blackmail note in an email from her damn computer. Wouldn’t take a computer genius to track down the origin and prove she was the one blackmailing me. Then again, there was some degree of brilliance there because causing legal trouble for her over her threat would mean exposing myself. Which she knew I wouldn’t do.
I paced my office, thinking it through, needing the physical activity to eat away at the anger that wanted me to walk over to her clinic right now and destroy that sample. Destroy her business. And destroy her.
Twelve years working at prisons and jails. Twelve years of dealing with assholes and inmates. Druggies and idiots. Entitled rich folk and conniving schemers. And not once had any of them gotten under my skin or threatened me so well as that little turtleneck nun with the nice rack.
An odd feeling crept up my spine and into my brain, forcing me to examine it despite my resistance. My face felt hot, but not from rage. Sure, I was madder than hell, but there was something else niggling in the background.
Shame. Embarrassment. Mortification.
I decided right then and there I didn’t like that feeling at all. I had nothing to be ashamed of, goddammit. I’d given a sample to help women conceive the child they’d always dreamed of. Yeah, yeah, it had been a stupid dare, but as far as the public needed to know, it was for the future children of America. Miss Priss was the one who should be ashamed of herself. Blackmailing a law enforcement official? Downright insane. Certifiable.
A flash of movement perforated the red haze of anger and embarrassment. I walked over to the huge window in my office before I knew what my legs were doing. There, sitting without a care in the world, was the woman who was currently at the eye of the storm in my life.
Lucille had on yet another blouse cut high on her neck. This time, you could see her arms and I confirmed she wasn’t actually allergic to the sun. She should think about wearing less clothing more often. Perhaps the lack of vitamin D was causing her brain to malfunction and slide into a life of blackmail and extortion.
