Casey Daniels - Dead Man Talking

Every single one of them was stark naked underneath.

Do I even need to say how fast I got out of there? Of course I don’t. Just like I don’t need to mention that not even a bunch of middle-aged naked babes were enough to scare me into giving up-not when Darcy Coleman had already mentioned prisoners who were more trouble than most, ones who might have hated him enough to frame Jefferson Lamar.

Making sure I was nowhere near where I could catch so much as a glimpse of those women in all their crone-like glory, I hung around the sports complex until I saw a couple of them (back in their robes, thank goodness) heading for their cars. Before Darcy was in the parking lot, I was already closing in on her.

“Did we make you uncomfortable?” She unlocked the trunk of her sea green Prius and deposited the candles and her books inside. “That wasn’t our intention, you know. We’re simply celebrating our femininity. You take it for granted when you’re young.” She shot me a sidelong glance. “But someday you’ll realize that there’s more to being a woman than just being sexy and adorable.” She banged the trunk shut. “Wisdom is a good thing.”

“Which is why I want to find out more about those prisoners you said might have had it in for Jefferson Lamar. Once I have their names, I’ll be smarter, right? And wisdom-”

Darcy laughed. “Thank goodness you’re not one of my students. You’d be trouble in class.”

“I always was.” I left out the part about how it wasn’t because I’d ever challenged my professors to see things in a different light. “You said you’d give me names.”

“I never did.” She unlocked her car and opened the driver’s door so it would cool off inside before she climbed in. “But… well… maybe I can help you.”

It was exactly what I was hoping she’d say, and I was ready for her. I already had a notebook in my hands and I clicked open a pen.

“The first one that comes to mind is Mack Raphael, of course,” she said. “But that’s just because I see him on TV all the time.” I guess my next question was evident in my huh expression because she went right on. “You know, Bad Dog Raphael, he owns a used car lot in Cleveland somewhere. He’s in his own commercials. You must have seen them. Seems like every time I turn on the TV, they’re running one.”

Now that she mentioned it, that did sound familiar. “This Bad Dog guy, he used to be a prisoner?”

“One of the worst. I don’t remember details, but I think he was at Central State because of aggravated assault or something like that. Something violent. It wasn’t his first offense, either. It’s funny, really. Every time I see one of those commercials, I find myself thinking about Warden Lamar. He was a big believer in rehabilitation, and if Bad Dog owns his own successful business… well, maybe the warden was right. Maybe prisoners really can turn their lives around. Maybe it’s Warden Lamar’s influence from beyond the grave…” She laughed like she wished it were possible, and for a nanosecond, I thought of telling her it actually was. She didn’t give me a chance.

“Anyway,” Darcy continued, “at the time I had to deal with Mack Raphael, he was one nasty guy with attitude to spare. He came to the office once for a disciplinary hearing and asked me if I wanted to duck into the men’s room for a quickie. Can you believe the nerve?” She shivered at the memory.

“Raphael had gang connections, in and out of the prison, and even though Warden Lamar could never prove anything for certain, he suspected Bad Dog was running drugs from the inside. You know, sending orders out to his gang through visitors, making calls to arrange drug buys, even smuggling the stuff in and distributing it in the prison. Bad Dog was smart, but Warden Lamar was smarter. Once he clamped down on Raphael and started monitoring visits and phone calls, it must have hurt business, because Bad Dog freaked. Warden Lamar didn’t need more proof than that. He knew he’d closed Mack Raphael down.”

“Which must have pissed this Bad Dog guy off.”

“Big time.”

“Then you think he was the one who-”

“Oh, he wasn’t the only one. Not by a long shot. I was thinking about it. You know, while I was picking up the candles and putting everything in order back at the clearing. There were other prisoners who were mad at the world and wanted to take out their anger on the warden. Take Teddy Johnson, for example, though I don’t think it’s possible he could have framed Warden Lamar.”

I wrote down the name right under Mack Raphael’s. “Tell me about him, anyway,” I said, and when Darcy looked at me, I sparkled. “Wisdom. It will help me gain wisdom.”

I had a feeling she was sorry that she ever mentioned it. She sighed. “Teddy had a temper. He was in the warden’s office regularly, and once, he actually went across the desk at Warden Lamar. Needed four guards to haul him off.”

“Then you think Teddy might have-”

She shook her head. “No, like I said, he couldn’t have done it. Teddy ended up getting shanked in the cafeteria line. He died right there on the floor. But that was long before Warden Lamar was accused of killing Vera. Had to be, because I was still at the prison then. So, no. Teddy was already dead by the time Warden Lamar was arrested. He couldn’t have been the one who framed him.” She was so sure, I crossed Teddy off the list.

“I thought of Rodney Beers, too, but…” Again, she shook her head and again, I felt my hopes rise, then fall flat. “No way it could have been Rodney. At least not the way I see it. He was in Central State at the time of the warden’s arrest, and I hear he was one of the guys who cheered the loudest when he heard the news. But one of the guards I kept in touch with told me that Rodney found religion a few years later. As part of his repentance, he confessed to every crime he ever committed, including a couple murders.”

“But he never said a word about framing Jefferson Lamar.”

“You’re quick.” She smiled. “Maybe you’re already on your way to finding wisdom.”

I wished.

I tapped my pen against the notepad. “So if we eliminate Teddy and this Rodney character, that leaves Bad Dog-”

“And Reno Bob Oates!” Her eyes lit. “I’d forgotten all about him. Good old, Reno! He once held up a bank and said he had a bomb. The cops never did find one, but Bob, he had them convinced. Held everyone in the bank hostage for a couple days. Bob was a colorful guy with a larger-than-life personality and a record as long as my arm. He had a beef with the system. Bob always had a beef with somebody or something. Anyway, the whole bank robbery turned into a media circus, and Bob became something of a celebrity with the prison groupies. A lot of people thought he was charming. I can’t say I agree. Bob had a vicious side. Rumor had it he slit a guy’s throat over a card game out in Nevada. That’s how he got his nickname.”

Thinking back, she tipped her head. “Bob really enjoying being in the spotlight, and believe it or not, a number of reporters from magazines and newspapers came to interview him at Central State. Three cheers for Warden Lamar: he saw that the more publicity Bob got, the more glamorous the whole life-of-crime thing looked to kids. He put a stop to it. No more interviews. No more phone calls from fans. Bob promised he’d get even. I was there when he said it. He swore Warden Lamar would regret what he’d done to him to his dying day. I can’t say if the warden did or not. I do know that I heard just recently that Bob is out of prison, living up in Cleveland somewhere.”

“Then you think Reno Bob could have-”

“I can’t say. Not really.” Darcy got her car keys out of the pocket of her purple robe. “This is all just me thinking out loud. And it all happened so long ago, I might not even be getting the details right. None of it proves a thing.”