Ride the Lightning by Terri Lynn Coop

Author:Terri Lynn Coop [Coop, Terri Lynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Main Street Media
Published: 2019-11-30T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 26

The old-fashioned sign reminding us that tools, saws, axes, hacksaw blades, chisels, picks, and knives were not allowed on the grounds of the penitentiary amused me.

"Whelp, I'm glad I left my big purse home."

Maddie maneuvered into one of the visitor parking slots. We were early. The vintage Miata convertible had chewed up the miles. It was more fun than I wanted to admit.

"Agreed. Canceling the cake was probably a good idea as well."

Our humor was a guard against the omnipresent chill that permeated the grounds. It was something that even the combination of the heat and the well-trained politeness of the reception staff couldn't dispel. I've been to a lot of prisons, but none with the history and reputation of the Mississippi State Penitentiary at Parchman.

The review of our documents and the extremely thorough pat down didn't yield any hacksaw blades, so we were granted entry. After a silent shuttle ride, a matron led us to one of the attorney interview rooms. I never know what to expect when I meet an inmate client for the first time. Until then, he or she has been an abstract represented by a flat poorly lit mugshot or crime scene photo. They were strategy and tactics rather than human beings.

The buzz of the electronic lock and rattle of chains told me it was go time. Neither of us said anything as the guard gestured a red-faced stocky man in prison grays into a straight-backed chair.

"Remove the shackles." Maddie had more syrup in her voice than usual.

"Are you sure, ma'am? You know our response time can well be over a minute."

"We have this same discussion every time I come here. Unshackle him. I need his signature on papers. Legal papers."

I smiled inwardly at the get the fuck out of here contained in the last two words.

Another buzz of the lock and the three of us were alone. Maddie made the introductions like a good southern hostess. The tension was almost as thick as the humidity in the poorly ventilated room. I was regretting the decision to wear my usual club uniform of black jeans, t-shirt, and boots. Sweat already prickled between my shoulder blades.

Billy Ray broke the silence by hawking and spitting on the floor.

"You don't look much like a lawyer. You look more like some kind of dyke."

I'd absorbed so much inmate shade over the years that this pathetic insult barely registered. I let a hint of amused mockery seep into my voice. I wasn't going to take this from anyone.

"You don't look much like a cop. You look more like some kind of killer."

The standoff broke when we both caught Maddie's horrified expression. Billy Ray ducked his head and picked at the cuticle on a fingernail that was, like all the others, gnawed down to the quick.

"Don't worry Miss Hyatt, I'll be nice. You've got to understand that after three years of this, I'm not too excited to have much truck with more lawyers."

I decided to let him off the hook.

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