“I thought so, too. But you convinced me to reconsider.”
Jeanie lifted a hand, rubbed at the fading bruise beneath her eye, and sighed. “Well, either way, I’m not staying at Uncle Mark’s.”
“Jeanie . . .”
“No, listen, Dad,” she said, her face going rigid with determination. “You want to make it up to me? Don’t make me stay over there.”
“What’s wrong with Uncle Mark’s?” Lucas asked, confused by her adamant refusal.
“I just don’t want to stay there, okay? What’s the big deal?”
“Even after . . .” He paused, not wanting to say it. Jeanie shook her head at him and scooped another spoonful of cereal into her mouth.
“It’s just a house.”
Except he didn’t want Jeanie there, not with what had happened the night before. But if he refused Jeanie’s request, there would be a battle. When it came to emotions, Jeanie took after Caroline. She was explosive, sometimes irrational. There would be screaming, probably some crying. She had a difficult time listening to reason, no matter what the circumstance. His gaze paused on the phone number he’d scribbled onto a Post-it Note tacked to the surface of the kitchen table. If he could get an alarm guy out there today, maybe he’d stop stressing so much, actually be able to get some work done.
“Maybe,” he told her. Jeanie’s expression brightened for once. He grabbed his phone, ready to call the number and see how quickly the alarm place could do the job, but before he could dial, his cell buzzed in the palm of his hand. He peered at the bright screen, which displayed an unknown number, answered.
“Hello?”
Jeanie grabbed her bowl and left the kitchen. A moment later, the sound of the television cut through the otherwise quiet house.
“Hi, Lucas?” A male voice, a slight Hispanic accent.
“Speaking.”
“It’s Josh,” the voice said. “Josh Morales from Lambert Correctional.”
Lucas blinked at the unexpected but welcome call.
“Hey! . . . Yeah, how’s it going?” Lucas asked. “Thanks for calling me back.”
“Nah, don’t mention it. Sorry it took me so long, man. What can I do you for?”
Lucas turned his attention away from the living room and looked back to his cup of lukewarm coffee. “I was wondering if we could set up a meeting; you, me, and possibly your friend Eperson if he’s interested. I thought we could talk about Halcomb, just your experiences with him as a guard at the facility.”
“He’s interested,” Morales said. “I talked to him the afternoon you left, told him who you were. He bought your book the next day, the one about Ramirez.”
But of course.
“Well, I’d like to thank him if he’ll let me. I can drive up to Lambert, meet you guys at your favorite place to eat, buy you two a few beers, some lunch.”
“Sounds good, but that’s why I’m calling,” Morales said. “Marty—uh, Eperson—he just had a family emergency come up. He’s going out of town and he’s not sure how long he’ll be gone. He’s still in town, but I think he’s leaving soon.”
“So, what does that mean?”
“It means if you’re on some kind of deadline and you want to talk to Marty about that visitor Halcomb keeps getting, we should do it today. If you can, I mean . . . I don’t know what your plans are or anything, so . . .”
Lucas closed his eyes and silently exhaled. A stream of profanities slithered through his head. If he hadn’t had the phone pressed against his ear and Jeanie hadn’t been in the living room, he would have let them spill out onto the ugly linoleum beneath his feet.
“I mean, we can do it mano a mano—off the record, of course. All this has to be off the record, or we can’t talk. We could get fired, and that would only be the beginning. But like I told you the other day, Marty works that part of the prison a hell of a lot more than me. He knows those guys better than anyone.”
“Did you tell him I’m interested in figuring out who that visitor is?” Lucas asked.
“Yeah, man. I don’t know what he can tell you, but he’s a good dude. I don’t think he’d be wanting to meet up if he didn’t have any useful info, you know?”
Lucas let his head loll back to stare at the ceiling, the angel on his shoulder assuring him that Eperson would be back, he had to come back. He had a job. And even if he was out of town for weeks, it wasn’t as though Lucas was going anywhere himself. He could catch up with Eperson later, get whatever information he was holding and work it into the book later.
But patience wasn’t Lucas’s best virtue. If Eperson had pertinent info on Halcomb’s secret visitor, it could change the entire trajectory of his work. Eperson could reveal a new lead and Lucas knew better than anyone that you had to follow up on leads as soon as possible, otherwise the trail could go cold. Had he started this project a mere three months earlier, January Moore may have still been walking the earth, willing to talk, ready to give him the story of a lifetime. He couldn’t take the risk.
“Shit, okay,” he said, nearly spitting out the words. “What time should I meet you?”
“I start my shift at three, and I don’t get off until midnight, so lunch would be good. I’ll call Marty, tell him to meet us at the Chili’s on Main. It’s the only Chili’s we’ve got, so you can’t miss it. One o’clock should give you plenty of time to get up here, no?”
It gave him four hours, two of which he’d spend driving to Lambert. “Yeah . . . okay. I’ll see you then.”
“Cool, see you, man. Oh, hey . . .”
Lucas paused, nearly ending the call before hearing Morales speak. “Yeah?”
“I know you probably get this all the time, and I’ll pay whatever it costs, but do you have any copies of your books lying around? Maybe one you could bring with you and sign for me? I know Marty’s going to have his . . .”
“Sure,” he said. “No problem.”
“Cool, man. I appreciate it. That’s awesome. Okay, see you soon.”