“What are you doing?” she asked, pressing him back.
“If The Crew knows where I’m at, we’ve got to get out of here.”
“But you can’t leave—you’ll die!”
He grabbed her arms. “You don’t understand. They won’t quit, Peyton. It’s a matter of pride for them. Their leader, Shady, has always felt threatened by me. He’ll come after me again and again, to prove his superiority, if for no other reason. And if they know you’re with me, they’ll try to get to me through you.”
Peyton thought about the cell phone Virgil had used to call her from inside Pelican Bay. It would be so easy for someone in the HF to use that phone or another one to contact Donald Mechem, the man who’d met with Detric Whitehead, and let him know that Virgil was out of prison and in the hospital. Maybe they’d already done that. And everyone knew she cared about Virgil beyond what she felt for any other inmate. She’d made that clear when he was lying on the floor of the dining hall. No doubt news of their relationship had spread through the entire prison by now. That was too juicy a rumor not to create a huge stir.
“I’ll make sure the police post a guard at the door,” she said.
Too ill to keep fighting with her, he slumped back. “Fine, but then you can’t leave my side. I’ve got to know where you are all the time, that you’re safe.”
“I won’t leave,” she said. It was the only way to get him to relax. But she knew it was a promise she couldn’t keep. She couldn’t stop living her life. She had to go home, shower, change and go to work. And she had to do it just a few hours from now.
31
It was seven in the morning when Peyton’s cell phone went off, waking her from a deep sleep. Afraid the noise would disturb Virgil, she slipped past the two uniformed guards she’d called for three hours earlier, and answered. Rick Wallace. Finally. Her last attempt to contact him had been a text message telling him Virgil had been attacked—again.
“Where’ve you been? I tried to reach you at least a dozen times yesterday,” she complained.
“I’ve been busy. I’m going through a divorce, remember?”
How could she forget? “Did you read my text? Operation Inside is over.”
“I got it. That sucks.”
“Virgil was attacked again,” she reiterated when he didn’t ask after their “informant’s” welfare.
“Is he okay?”
He didn’t seem to care one way or the other. “Barely.”
“Shit happens, I guess. It’s not like anyone was to blame.”
There was definitely someone to blame. The HF, The Crew and whoever had given them information. And shit happens? Virgil had almost died. Not only that, Wallace was the one who’d pushed so hard for this. She hadn’t even told him John Hutchinson had information on the judge’s murder and that, provided he’d talk, the whole thing might not have been a complete waste, and yet he was shrugging it off?
“You’re acting…unlike your usual self,” she said. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve told you. I’m going through a divorce! Anyone would be acting unlike themselves. Divorces aren’t any fun, in case you haven’t heard.”
Neither was being attacked, but his problems were always worse than anyone else’s.
She stepped aside to allow a nurse to hustle past her. “I suppose. But we can’t wash our hands of this quite yet.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I think we have an informant in the department.”
Silence. Then, “No…”
“Yes! How else did The Crew manage to keep stride with us? Someone’s been talking.”
“Maybe so. But there’s no way we’ll ever be able to prove it.”
“How do you know? Just because it might be tough doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. Whoever gave Virgil up has blood on his or her hands.”
“Don’t be melodramatic, Peyton. There are a lot of ways The Crew could’ve found him.”
“Without inside information? Name one.”
“I don’t know! They have a huge network.”
“Well, whoever’s helping them has caused a real problem. Now that they know where Virgil is, they won’t back off.”
“Then he needs to get the hell out of town.”
As much as Peyton didn’t want to see Virgil go, Rick’s suggestion was the safest alternative. “He needs to go into the program as soon as possible,” she agreed. Once he was well enough to travel, anyway. But what would they do to keep him safe until then? She didn’t want to think about how easy it would be for someone with a gun to come into the hospital and shoot up the place. Neither did she want to consider what WITSEC for Virgil would mean for her.
“I’ll set it up as soon as his doctor gives the okay,” Rick said.
“Have everything ready before then.”
“I think I know how to do my job,” he snapped, and hung up.
He didn’t like the fact that she was so concerned about Virgil. But his lack of concern bothered her just as much. Shit happens… That was easy to say when it happened to someone else!
Going back into Virgil’s room, she retrieved her purse while he continued to sleep. Then she blew him a kiss and hurried out again. It was time to get ready for work. She couldn’t leave everyone in the lurch by not showing up.
“I can’t believe it!” Shady cried. “How’d they miss him? It was three on one, they had the help of a stupid HACK, and they still couldn’t get the job done? Who said the HF are bad? They’re pussies—that’s what they are!”
Don motioned for him to keep his voice down. They were walking down the pier, next to a string of boats bobbing in the water. For the most part they were alone because it was cold, even at midday. But there were a few people up by the tackle shop who might be able to overhear. “Calm down, man. He’s a lot sharper than the average con.”
Shady had his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans and was stalking toward the end of the pier, but at this he pivoted and came back toward Meeks, who’d been trailing after him. “Don’t say that shit to me! This guy isn’t any better than we are. He’s a traitor. That’s what he is. And for that I’m gonna gut him.”
Still worried about attracting attention, Meeks glanced behind them. “We’ll have our chance, huh? But you really got to calm down. All that speed you been doin’ has you messed up, man. You should sleep. We’d be smart to have some patience.”