Inevitable Sentences (16 page)

“I don’t think so.” Eagle shrugged. “I’ve found him in the kitchen with her several times when she’s there alone, though. The way he leers at her …” He shook his head. “However, according to the other prison employees, Lizzie doesn’t talk about her personal life and is never seen around town with a date. That seems odd for an attractive, young single woman.” He paused again and peered out the window. The sun slipped into the heavy gray clouds. “That’s the last of the sun for a while. Big storm coming.” He faced Max again. “I don’t think the only storm we’re going to face is out there.” He rubbed his clean-shaven chin. “I can’t put my finger on it. My gut tells me something is brewing in the kitchen and it’s not just coffee.”

“Do you mean that you think Lizzie is getting special treatment and likes it?” No response. Max pressed on, hoping to trigger a possibility. “Or is Stump threatening her or someone else? Maybe he has something on them or Lizzie, so he can force her into a relationship and they won’t tell. Or perhaps Lizzie could have a boyfriend in the military or who lives in another town.” Max thought that it was odd that she’d never talked about that.

“It could be any of those things. My biggest concern right now is the lack of security. I know”—Eagle raised both hands in front of his chest in a defensive manner—“you told me to handle the security issue behind Stump’s back. That I should get the employees to understand they have to do as I directed. I have made some changes. But if the warden doesn’t back me, which is often, the others know I’ll have a tough time disciplining them. Stump thinks it’s easier to let things go and hope it will all turn out in the end. I doubt he wants anything like this to get to the governor.” Eagle flopped into a chair. “It seems hopeless. You’re the only person I can trust.”

“Most employees want to do the right thing, especially when command comes from a good leader and if it means it’ll make them safe. Even the prisoners want to be sure they’re going to be protected.” Max squeezed his eyes closed. Eagle had said the right words about trust. He was hooked once again. He opened his eyes and said, “You have to go to the regional director. You have to tell her everything about the missing keys, the warden’s potentially inappropriate relationship with an employee, his drinking, his refusal to discipline errant employees and whatever else you’ve seen.”

“I’ve tried to make an appointment,” Eagle said, almost seething. “For some reason, she keeps putting me off. I feel like she doesn’t trust me, or maybe she trusts Stump too much. Or maybe she’s afraid of the governor’s reaction, like I am.” He stopped, took a huge breath, and went on, “I thought since you have such a good reputation and you know the regional director pretty well, you’d come with me when I talk to her. She’ll listen to you far more than me. I’m the new kid on the block.”

“I can’t get that involved,” Max nearly shouted with frustration. Yet he knew the thin line Eagle walked. If he pissed off the governor, it would be his job, not Stump’s. Politics sucked.

“I’ve kept that journal we’ve talked about,” Eagle said as though offering a reason for Max to agree.

“Good. That will help.”

“Without other employees backing me, it all could be difficult to prove.” Eagle sounded defeated.

“Let the director know you’ve kept a journal when you call her on Monday.” Max ignored the possibility that the director simply didn’t want to delve into the problem at the moment. He plowed ahead. “You’re strong and should be able to handle the meeting. In fact, I bet the director already senses a problem with Stump. I bet Stump hasn’t done anything in a timely fashion and perhaps has even ignored directives.” Max’s voice accelerated into staccato bursts. “For all you know, she may already be on his case and waiting for further proof to take action. You have that proof.” Max’s breathing seemed labored. “What you report may only be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Then, good riddance.”

“Sir, your face is turning red. Are you okay?” Eagle rushed to his side.

“Yes,” he whispered, “I can’t get this excited, you know, because of my heart. Anything about the prison does set me off.”

Eagle held a glass of water with a straw to Max’s mouth. Max, feeling too dependent, would have loved to bat it away. Instead, he sipped. The coolness slid down his throat and eased the heat that seemed to build in every part of his body. He shouldn’t let news of the prison get to him this way. When Max had finished the water, Eagle took it away and set the glass on the bed table.

“Thank you,” Max said. “I have one more thing to say and then you must go.”

“Yes, what is it?” Eagle’s eyes grew larger than Max had ever seen and still they appeared like small glass pebbles.

“You can’t wait too long to talk with the regional director. You have to call her Monday and insist on getting in to see her immediately. Don’t take no for an answer this time. Even if you have to post yourself at her office door until she sees you.” Max coughed. “The longer you wait, the worse the situation will get. Even dangerous.”

“I’ll be the scapegoat for all the policy breaches.” Eagle frowned.

“Better you than lose the entire prison.” Max’s tone was firm.

Before Eagle could answer, Hooper exploded through the door followed by Celeste. Hooper glared at Eagle. “I thought I told you to be out of here in fifteen minutes. You stretched that into a half hour. Scat before I put you in a straitjacket and call for the psych unit to fetch you.”

Eagle actually looked anxious. Max smothered a chuckle.

“Guess I’ll be going.” Eagle stuttered the words. “I’m on duty at the prison today and I’m late.” He nodded to Max. “Warden.” He turned to Celeste. “Mrs. Brookstone.”

“Remember what I said about Monday,” Max stated, his tone harsher than he had meant it to be.

“Yes,” Eagle said as he grabbed his coat and actually backed out of the room.

“What about Monday?” Celeste asked.

“Hello to you, too.” Max sounded hurt.

“Sorry, dear. Hello,” Celeste nearly cooed. She kissed his mouth a little longer than usual. “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m much better now that you’re here, which, by the way, is a wonderful surprise.” His smile made his face glow. “I didn’t think I would see you until tomorrow when you picked me up, what with this weather and all.”

“I was able to sneak away for little while. Adrian has become such a help I have no problem leaving the safe house in her hands.” Celeste lifted his shoulders and fluffed his pillows. “What’s more, it bothers me that I can’t be here and be more of a help to you.”

“I feel the same way about not being at the lighthouse with you.” Max sighed.

“I don’t want to interrupt this lovely scene, but if Mrs. Brookstone isn’t going to push for an answer, I want to know—what did you mean about Monday?” Hooper checked the monitor as she talked. She lifted Max’s arm and wrapped the blood pressure cuff around it. As she pumped it, she said, “I’m waiting for an answer and it better be good. You better not be doing anything stupid.”

Max winced at how tight Hooper made the cuff, her form of torture to make him confess. When she began letting the pressure out, he answered, “I told the deputy to make an appointment with the regional director to vent his grievances about Warden Stump. I also told him I wasn’t the person to handle Hawk Haven’s problems. Are you satisfied?”

“Good for you,” Celeste cheered.

“Ummm.” Hooper removed the cuff and wrote Max’s pressure down. “Every time that man comes here, your pressure goes up. What am I going to do with you?” She shook her head. “You must like me a whole lot better than Mrs. Brookstone since you seem to want to stay here.”

“I hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t. So let Mrs. Brookstone and me have some time together.”

Hooper strutted to the door and mumbled, “At least she gets your blood pressure down to where it should be.”

Celeste straightened. “Should I take that as a compliment? I thought I got you all hot and bothered.” She brushed her hand down his cheek and giggled. Then she abruptly cocked her ear to the bleeping sound of the heart monitor. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you being here chained to this equipment and bed.”

“Me, either. Look on the bright side. All the other machines are gone and I’ll be out of here tomorrow if all goes as it should,” Max practically bellowed.

“Speaking of tomorrow.” Celeste’s voice was calm. “What happens if I get snowed or iced in? Do you have someone else to pick you up and at least get you to your apartment?”

“Deputy Eagle?” Max chuckled. “He’d be happy to make me his captive audience.”

Celeste lightly swatted his shoulder. “You can be silly at times. This is serious. We need a plan B.”

Hooper slid quietly back into the room. “He’ll have to stay here until you can pick him up. He can’t be released without some sort of home care.”

Both Celeste and Max jumped at the unexpected sound of Hooper’s voice. “Aren’t you the ghost today?” Max teased.

“Lunch is on its way. And, Mrs. Brookstone, you should be on your way, too, if you plan to get home before you’re snowed in here for the night.” Hooper moved to the window and pointed. “That sky is getting darker by the second. Darker than I can ever recall.” She turned to the couple. “Well, I have other patients to tend to.” She sped from the room.

Celeste stared at the charcoal-colored clouds, heavy and ominous. “I can already feel the weight. It feels as though a huge wet cover is wrapped around my body.” Her arms folded across her chest as if to demonstrate. She shuddered and gazed at Max. “It wouldn’t be bad to be stuck in the warm hospital room with you, though.”

Max had learned a long time ago that when the barometer dropped, Celeste’s outlook did, too. Her mood seemed well on its way into the depths of gloom. If she planned to live in the Upper Peninsula, she’d have to get over these seasonal attacks. Maybe a sunlamp would help. Certainly, if he hadn’t been hospitalized she wouldn’t feel this sad.

Celeste walked to the window. “I know this sounds silly,” she said without taking her eyes from the window. “But this time I have an even deeper feeling that the weather will bring a far worse situation than I can cope with on my own. Or …”

“Yoo-hoo!” Max called out. “Are you still with me?”

“Sorry.” Celeste faced Max and forced a smile.

Had she forgotten she was in his room?

“I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m being silly because I miss having you with me. And I get mesmerized by the cloud formations, that’s all.”

Max knew there was something more pressing on her mind, like the last time they talked, but he decided to let it go for the moment. He’d be able to comfort her full-time starting tomorrow. “The clouds are a whole lot prettier in the summer when the sun sets into them.”

Max’s cheery response broke through Celeste’s sadness for a moment. “Yes, I agree and I’m anxious for that time to get here.”

Max motioned her to come to his side. He took one of her hands and kissed it. “I’m tired of only kissing your hand.”

“You must have patience, my dear. All good things come in due time.” Celeste hoped the time would be tomorrow.

“At any rate, you should get on the road.” Max glanced out the window. “Even though I hate to say Hooper’s right, it is starting to snow again. It’ll be slow enough driving without waiting for the real heavy stuff to begin falling.”

“I always have a tough time leaving.” Celeste held her breath. It didn’t hide the quiver in her voice. She felt more hesitant than usual about going back to the lighthouse. “It’s too damn grim outside and that’s getting to me, I guess.” She smiled weakly. “You know I have had to fight this kind of seasonal depression all my life. It’ll pass. It always does.”

“Believe me, I don’t want you to go either. I hate this damn weather myself. I also want to be sure you’re safe and tucked securely into the lighthouse.” Max released her hand. “Now go.”

“Yes, sir, Warden Whitefeather.” Celeste leaned over and kissed him on the lips. “I do love you, you know.”

“Yes, and I love you. You should know that because you are the only one who is still allowed to call me warden.”

Celeste laughed, straightened, and picked up her coat, moving as slowly as possible. She wrapped the coat around her and buttoned it in slow motion. When she finished she softly said, “Good-bye until tomorrow.” She blew him a kiss, turned, and left the room.

He watched her disappear through the door, certain there was more to her obvious depression and distress than the weather. What could it be that she wouldn’t tell him?

For several minutes he could hear the murmur of other voices. Soon they vanished, and the sudden silence in the room pushed in on Max. Sadly, he had a whole day of that lonely pressure ahead of him or so he thought.

“Hey there, you old man,” a hearty voice bellowed.

Max brightened when he saw Duke Hunter, the county sheriff. The two men had been friends since high school. Hunter got the name Duke back then because he reminded everyone of John Wayne, and he still did, right down to the way he talked—a slow, drawn-out drawl.

“I saw Celeste leaving. Am I barging in when you should be resting?” Hunter moved toward Max, his powerful, lean physique still impressing Max even though the two had been friends for over forty years.

Hunter wasn’t the public’s stereotypical sheriff. He had a master’s degree from Michigan State in Public Administration and had graduated with a 4.0. Fortunately for Marquette County, Hunter wanted to live in his hometown. Max had always been amazed that Duke would rather read poetry by Billy Collins than go hunting like most of his deputies. Although rugged, he was no woodsman. The poetry and his leadership skills were why Max liked and respected Hunter. His wife, Mary, a graduate in literature from the same university, couldn’t have been happier, either.

“Hell. That’s all I do is sleep,” Max said. “Sit down and tell me the latest gossip and don’t leave out one detail.” Better a visit from his old friend than a wallow in his loneliness. “Besides,” Max added, “I’m sure what you have to tell me will be way better than Deputy Eagle’s miserable stories.”

While the men chatted away like two old women at a quilting party, Hooper brought Max’s lunch tray. “My, my, aren’t you the talkative twosome,” she teased.