Fear Nothing (Detective D.D. Warren #7) - Lisa Gardner Page 0,94
us up in front of them, then unzip their flies. Whichever one of us got the guy off first won a prize. Maybe a bottle of lotion. Or a couple of extra minutes in the shower. Stupid shit like that.”
The PO reached over and patted her charge’s hand. D.D. had never worked with Candace before, but she seemed to genuinely care about her clients.
“So three COs were involved in this?” Phil asked.
“In the beginning,” Christi mumbled. She still wasn’t looking at them. “But they didn’t all work together very often, and Frankie, you know . . . he had appetites. So sometimes, he’d act on his own. Just appear in your cell. Suck and tuck, he’d call it. He’d whip it out. You’d suck. Then when it was over, he’d tuck it away and return to duty. Like nothing had happened. Like . . . you were nothing.”
“How many inmates did he target?” Phil asked.
“I don’t know. Three or four of us.”
“Did you file a complaint?”
The woman looked up, her expression still bleary after all these years. “How? Who? I mean, these were our guards. Who the hell were we supposed to complain to?”
Phil didn’t say anything. Mostly because there wasn’t an answer to that sort of question.
“What happened?” he asked next.
“Howard wasn’t so bad,” Christi answered. “He even said thank you on occasion, smuggled in some gifts, chocolate. I don’t think he had a girl. He seemed . . . lonely. But Frankie and Rich . . . The more they got, the more they wanted. There were cameras, so they’d take turns covering for each other. One would, like, flip this switch or something. I don’t know. I guess it caused the cameras to blink. Then, while the cameras were resetting, the other would enter your cell. Once inside, the cameras couldn’t see him, so it didn’t matter. He could stay as long as he wanted, do whatever he wanted . . . Then, when he’d had enough, he’d give a signal, and the other guy would hit the switch, and alakazam, the guard was back in the halls, on duty. They thought they were pretty damn clever. Bragged about it all the time.”
“How long did this go on?” Phil asked.
“I dunno. Months. Years. Fucking eternity.”
“And they also assaulted Shana Day?” D.D. spoke up.
Christi looked at her funny. “What would they want with Shana? I mean, she’d hacked the ear off a little boy. Who the hell wants to fuck that?”
D.D. took that to be a no.
“She kept to herself, nasty piece of work. That’s what made it all so strange, what happened next.”
D.D., Phil and Adeline leaned forward.
“It was Frankie’s night off. God help us, we were relaxing. Bastard was gone, we could finally breathe. Then there he was. In street clothes. Blabbering something about he’d figured it out. He wasn’t even working, meaning he could stay all night. Then he looked at each one of us, smirking, while he waited for us to fully understand. Richie had the desk. Meaning all Richie had to do was flick the camera switch once, then Frankie would be safely in place, and yeah, we could serve as his sex slaves. All night long. Lucky us.
“He chose me,” Christi said, flat blue gaze fixed on the fry basket. “He chose me.”
None of them spoke.
“I screamed at one point. Not that it mattered. I mean, it’s just a unit full of convicted offenders and a lone corrections officer who didn’t give a flying fuck. At one point, I heard the other girls making a fuss. Whacking shoes, books, toothbrushes against the bars. Prison protest. But the cameras can’t do justice to that. So Frankie stayed. He did everything he wanted to do. Again and again and again. Must’ve taken Viagra ahead of time, the goddamn son of a . . . Not a thing I could do about it. When he was done, he put on his clothes, zipped up his pants and handed me a travel-size bottle of shampoo. You know, like from the Holiday Inn. He fucked my . . . And that’s what I got. Cheap motel shampoo.
“I didn’t get up the next day. Couldn’t even walk. But Richie had already left a note that I’d ‘worn myself out’ causing a ruckus the night before. Day officer didn’t even bother to check in on me. They’re all in cahoots, you know. We’re the inmates, but they’re the monsters.”