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Ilook down at the chip I pulled from Melody’s neck. It wasn’t too deeply planted, and not too hard to get out. For someone who has no idea what they’re doing, I don’t think I did itthatpoorly. I got it out fast, stopped the bleeding. Didn’t cause too big of a wound.
Besides, she’s got mine in her now. In the same place. She passed out as I was stitching it closed, and now it’s protected by a layer of antiseptic ointment and bandages.
My phone goes off, and I leave Melody where she is on the couch in the basement. I sneak back upstairs and dial the number the text provided.
“This is Anthony Strouse.”
“Warden,” I greet him. “Jacob Rhodes.”
The sun is just rising. I step out onto the front porch and take a seat on the steps. It’s so peaceful in Crown Point. It makes me want to come back, forget about my high-profile career, and just raise a bunch of babies with Melody.
Although she made some comment about maybe not being able to have kids, so…
I don’t know.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Rhodes?”
“It’s come to my attention that one of your inmates has been complicit in… other crimes.”
He’s silent.
“Namely, conspiracy to murder not one but two people.”
“I’m listening.”
“The police are already looking into this. But privileges for this inmate should be closer examined. After all, it’s your monitoring system that failed us. One dead, another ended up in the hospital because of their actions.”
“Whose actions?”
I smile. “Jack Cameron. And his wife, Jessica. Newly back from the dead herself, might I add.”
He clears his throat.
“You knew a woman had been visiting him. And you also knew that she didn’t have a valid ID. Yet you let her in anyway. Isn’t that right?”
“I don’t control my guards’ decisions—”
“But you’re the captain of the ship, Warden. And if we can’t trust you, who can we trust?”
He scoffs.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to put Jack Cameron in solitary confinement until these new charges are brought against him.”
“You do not have the authority to make such orders, boy.”
I pull my phone back slightly and hitsendon the images Bill sent me. Of Anthony Strouse naked with a woman who certainly isn’t his very devoted, loving wife. Who certainly isn’t the mother of his four children.
Bill still has his uses.
“Where—”
“The press in Stone Ridge might find these interesting.”
“You dare to threaten—”
“I do,” I interrupt. “Test me. Solitary confinement by noon today, or the photos will be blasted across everyfuckingplatform I can find.”
I hit theendbutton.
