widening a bit. “That’s a lot of money just for an advance. What do you get when you complete the job?”
“Another sixty dollars.”
A moment of silence passed as Archer slowly put the money away. When he looked up, the woman seemed to be appraising him in a different light.
“All right, but if that position does not work out, you will be required to go on three job interviews in the next week. And have gainful employment by that time. There’s plenty of work here if you apply yourself.”
“Fine, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“You’ll need to report in once a week for the next two months. If your progress is satisfactory, the visits can fall back to once a month, though I can perform spot checks on you at my discretion.”
“I’m in Room 610 at the Derby Hotel. You’re welcome anytime.”
Her frown deepened. “I’m readily aware that you’re staying at the Derby Hotel as that is where all parolees go initially. But I will not be visiting you in your room there. This is a professional relationship. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”
“Sorry, ma’am. No offense. And I do appreciate that.”
“When you do change your place of residence you are required to immediately notify me of same, do you understand?”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
“I need you to sign this form evidencing that you were here today. I’ll place it in your file and communicate the fact of your attendance to the proper authorities. And I’ll see you in a week’s time.” She held up the pen.
“Right.” He stood, came around to her side of the desk, took the pen, and signed the document. He took a moment to breathe in her scent, which, frankly, intrigued him far more than Jackie’s had the prior night. Then he thought of the misspelled note and the repulsive comments, and the cocksure manner of Deputy Sheriff Willie Free, and he quickly straightened and laid down the pen.
“Um, you can’t spare a smoke, can you?” he asked.
She glanced at the ashtray and appeared to bristle a bit.
“No, I can’t. It’s against the rules for me to provide that sort of thing to parolees under my jurisdiction. It could be viewed as improper.”
“That’s okay. Someone told me they were bad for you anyway.”
She gave him a condescending look. “Really, Mr. Archer, I highly doubt that if cigarettes were really bad for you the companies making them would continue to do so.”
“Well, I guess that’s the difference in our thinking.”
She looked startled again by his words. “How do you mean?”
“My way of looking at the world is that some folks do what they want, and they don’t care what happens to others, so long as it’s good for them.”
“I try to be more optimistic.”
He twirled his hat between his fingers. “See you in a week, Miss Crabtree.”
She returned to her typing and started clacking away. He walked to the door and looked back in time to see her watching him.
“Hope you’re saying good things about me.”
“Good-bye, Mr. Archer.”
She immediately went back to her typing.
As Archer was coming down the front steps of the Courts and Municipality Building, he saw on the street someone he recognized. Archer would have kept walking, but the man saw him, too.
“Archer, by God, tell me it ain’t you and I still won’t believe it. What a damn sight for sore eyes. So, you’re out then?”
The speaker was short and reedy with a neck too long for his body, and an Adam’s apple the size of a ripe peach. He was in his late forties, and his hair was graying rapidly and thinning even faster. His sideburns were long and curled inward at the bottom. Physically unimposing, he still seemed to take up more space on earth than his stature warranted.
“Dickie Dill,” said Archer, reluctantly coming over to him. “Never expected to see your mug again.”
Dill put out a thin hand with fingers like little scythe blades. Archer had seen those same hands wrap around the neck of a fellow inmate who was three times Dill’s size and come close to strangling the life out of him. It took four guards to pull the little man off the far larger one. After that, prisoners and guards at Carderock Prison let Dickie Dill be.
Archer had thankfully never had a beef with the man, but there was something about Dill that just struck him as peculiar enough to be avoided if possible.
The men shook hands.
“Hellfire, boy, I think we all come through