They left their guns in the rental and cleared the security checkpoint into the prison. The place looked like it had been built about a hundred years ago. Its outer walls were stained black and part of the front entrance was crumbling, with rebar exposed under the masonry. There was only one road in. The land was flat, leaving nowhere to hide.
Robie eyed the guard towers set on all sides. Inside, men in uniforms paced back and forth with long-range rifles in hand.
“Don’t see many escapes happening from here,” said Robie.
“Well, if my father had tried, they could have shot him. Saved us all a lot of grief.”
They were escorted not to a visitors’ area, but directly to the hospital ward.
When they reached the doorway Robie said, “Okay, we’re here. You sure you’re ready to do this?”
She took a deep breath but still shook slightly. “This is crazy. I’ve stared down scum five times worse than his ass.”
“Those scum weren’t your father.”
She marched into the ward with Robie in her wake. The entrance to the area the patients were in was blocked by a guard stand. Robie and Reel went through this checkpoint. Robie eyed the name tag on the guard’s shirt.
Albert.
Albert was a big man, he observed. And he looked meaner than he was big.
Albert eyed Reel with great interest. Robie saw her gaze sweep over Albert, but he knew she was merely sizing him up in case she had to kick his ass later.
Albert said, “What you want with old Earl?”
“Visit,” said Reel curtly.
“I know that. You’re on the list.”
“Okay,” said Reel. “I’m on the list.”
“You know Earl?”
“You said I’m on the list. Do I get to visit him or not? If I have to answer twenty questions with you, I’ll just turn around and go back to where I came from.”
“Hey, hey, just asking, lady. You can go on and see him. Fourth bed on the left.”
“Thanks,” said Reel as she breezed by him with Robie next to her.
“Asshole,” she said under her breath.
She took more steps, counting down beds until she reached the fourth on the left. Then she stopped and looked down, her face a mask of stone.
Earl Fontaine was obviously expecting her. He was sitting up in his bed, his hair washed and neatly combed and his face shaved.
“Hello there, baby girl,” he said. “My, my, how you done grown. Is that really you, Sally?”