Gillian stepped into Vlahos’s line of sight. “Not the way to start out. You’re both going on report.”
Vlahos’s expression lightened as his gaze met hers. He released the hand and stepped back. His shoulders were stiff, his chest rising and falling in short gusts. “Gonna write me up? He started it.”
They were all like little boys, fighting for turf on the playground. She snorted. “Damn straight. Get to your cell.”
He bent, gathered up his things, and walked away.
Gillian glanced back at the inmate still crouching on the ground, his hand cradled against his chest. “Need to see a nurse?” she ground out.
“No,” he gasped.
“Then get to your cell.” Straightening, she turned and aimed a general glare around her. “Anyone still on the floor in five minutes will be swimming in yellow paper. I don’t care if my hand cramps. Now, move it!”
She waited, hands on her hips, and, slowly, the prisoners headed back to their cells. Then she turned to the control booth. McPhee still grinned, but behind him Hedron stood with his arms crossed over his chest. His steady stare didn’t give her a hint of his thoughts.
Well, she’d gone and done it now. She hadn’t kept her
head down. She’d just made herself a target for retribution, and she hadn’t even made it through the first half of her first shift.
* * *
In the darkness just before dawn, Gillian headed out the gates to the gravel parking lot. The rest of the night had been uneventful, but then she’d been banished to the East Tower with a rifle and a radio. She’d spent the last six hours bored out of her mind, peering into the dark field just beyond the chain link fence, watching for escapees. Unfortunately, nothing had happened.
She’d had plenty of time to think about the first hours she’d spent on the floor, replaying through her mind possible consequences and scenarios. Something that would likely happen in her dreams that night. The shift leader, Lieutenant Bates, hadn’t even raised an eyebrow when she’d dropped her yellow major disciplinary forms on his desk before she left.
“See you tomorrow night,” he’d said, not looking up. “Don’t be late.”
No, “How’d your first night go?”, but also no complaints. A wash.
As she hit the automatic button on her remote key, gravel crunched behind her. Hedron halted beside her.
Her back stiffened.
“Priest,” he said, his voice just short of a raspy bark. “Wanna join us for coffee? It’s something we do after our shift.”
Had he felt compelled to ask her since she was the newbie? Or was he offering her an olive branch—a chance to fit in? “I could stand a cup of coffee that wasn’t so old you could stand a spoon in it.”
“Follow me.”
He strode off, and she couldn’t help watching him leave. His ass in his navy uniform pants was an attractive, rounded package. His shoulders weren’t bad either. Sturdy was the first adjective that popped into her brain when she thought about how she might describe him.
She followed him through Caddo, grateful he’d offered to show her the way because she’d never have found the tiny diner on her own.
Through the glass windows, she saw several tables had already been pulled together to accommodate the officers who shared her shift.
Hedron waited at the door and opened it for her, a gesture she felt awkward about, given that she worked in a man’s world and would have snarled at him if he’d done it at the prison.
His lips were a flat line, but as she gave him a quick nod in lieu of a thank you, one corner lifted. Not exactly mocking, but like he knew what she’d been thinking.
The others looked up at her approach. A few shot searing glares at Hedron, but they shifted their chairs to make room for her.
An awkward pause followed after she took the seat offered. Then she drew a deep breath and decided to cut through their crap. “I’m out of Bentonville,” she said, opening the discussion, giving them permission to satisfy their curiosity.
“Got a cousin who works there. James Gilroy,” one of the officers mumbled. “Know him?”
“Sure. Day shift. Passed him a couple of times at formation.”
“Got an uncle there,” another drawled. “Doin’ time for armed robbery. Dewey Craddock.”