will keep you alive.”
“Thanks. I appreciate anything. I’m not in the Worthington class anyway. I was just faking it for a day.”
“Well, honey, you have the looks and manners for it. I’ll bring something down.”
A few minutes later, the gate keeper returned with a metal tray, holding overcooked sliced beef, potatoes and gravy, and green beans. “Now Callie, we got to ask you to step to the back while I slip this through the door opening on the bottom.”
She smiled and did as she was told. She stayed there only a moment until the guard signaled her to come get the tray. She said, “Thanks.”
“Oh, don’t thank me. Thank the good citizens of Savannah who pay for it all. If’n you was stayin’ here, you’d probably get to make some of this in the kitchen as part of your duties.”
“Maybe I will then.”
“Oh, not likely. They’s sending for you from Lafayette. You’ll be outa here tomorrow afternoon.”
She stopped eating and looked at the guard. “What? I didn’t think I’d leave here.”
“Well, sugar. The guy you took the card from said he gave it to you. Ain’t no crime here in Georgia. So’s they’s comin’ to take you back to Louisiana.”
She thought of Jake and smiled. He was impossible to figure out. She had betrayed him every way imaginable, yet he was still the good guy. There was no way she could face him. While she was contemplating, the guard said, “Just call, honey, when you’re through.”
“Thanks, I’ll yell in a bit.”
She was alone, eating better than most of those years on the street. She didn’t want to face Jake or anyone again. She’d confess to everything. She’d help find the coins, if possible. She just wanted to be locked safely in her cell and not have to answer any more questions or face someone that she knew she had hurt badly. There would always be a temptation to lie, and she didn’t want to lie anymore.
She slept fitfully, but felt refreshed in the morning. There was nothing like the truth to set you free, and she was a truth-telling girl for the rest of her life -- even if that was behind bars. She had lived in a lot worse conditions. With Jake, she’d lived a lot better. She would never need to live like the Worthington people, but she would never forget it either. This was okay. Breakfast came at seven, which was normal for inmates, facing early court times. She ate fruit and part of one egg, passing on the bacon and toast. After finishing, a different female guard came to her cell. “We gotta get you cleaned up girl for you trip today.” She opened the cell door and gestured for Callie to follow her to the open showers at the end of the cell block. “You can shower in there. I’ll be standin’ here but you ain’t got nothin’ I ain’t seen before. They’s a clean suit on the bench and a dry towel. We don’t have any boutique shampoo, but the dispensers got stuff to get clean with.”
Callie smiled. “Thank you, this will be fine.”
About ten minutes later, she was dressed and towel dried her hair. She felt refreshed. “Okay, I’m ready to go back to my cell.”
“Oh, no, girl. You are processing out of our little palace today. They’s a Louisiana Police Van in the lot, and some nice officers to give you a ride back home.”
Callie grinned, “Well, then. Let’s go.”
She was amazed at how nice everyone had been. She was as guilty as anyone they ever got for non-violent crimes, but they treated her more like a guest than a prisoner. She was never shackled, and no one even raised their voice at her. The guard just walked calmly beside her as they passed through the two check gates. As they cleared the cell block, there were two uniformed officers with different uniforms waiting at the end of the hall. They were holding leg irons and handcuffs, with a chain tying it all together.
As she approached, the female officer said, “Sit here,” pointing to an old scarred wooden arm chair, which was the only furniture in the hall. She did as instructed. After clasping both ankles, the officer said, “Now extend your arms.” She applied the handcuffs and closed them tightly around Callie’s wrists.
Callie asked, “Can you loosen these one notch? It really hurts.”
The officer gave her a stern look and wasn’t interested in her comfort. “You’ll get used to it. Now, stand and walk between us. All the paperwork is signed and we’re good to go.”
Once through the side door, into the parking lot, the female officer said, “If you try anything, you won’t get anywhere with this rig. Others have tried and regretted it.”
Callie looked at her feet while they shuffled her toward a white windowless van that said Lafayette Police on the side. “I won’t try anything.”
The officer responded, “Good.”
The rear van door opened, and there were long benches along both sides but no windows. Both officers helped lift her up to the floor level. The female officer said, “You sit here on the driver’s side so that I can watch you.” We will only stop a couple times, so if you need a pee-break, hold it until we tell you. Do you understand?” Her voice was rigid and intolerant.
“Yes, I understand.” They slammed the door closed.
The male officer was the driver. The female officer glanced back through the metal mesh barrier between the cab and the benches but never said a word. Her demeanor was not inviting any conversation. Once they were on the Interstate, she guessed that it was at least a twelve hour drive. She also guessed they would drive straight through.
The bench was hard, with little padding and there was no back, so she had to sit resting against the cold metal wall of the van. There was no restraint for acceleration or braking, so she was tossed fore and aft with each change. Finally, she tried lying down on the bench, which was only wide enough for about half her body. It was the only reasonable position for a long trip. She half expected the female officer to order her to sit up, but after some glances back, she let her rest. This was going to be a long trip.
The late fall weather was turning unseasonably cold, and the un-insulated sides of the van were frigid. Her teeth were chattering. She was nervous about saying anything to the officers, but finally had to request, “Can you please turn on some heat? I’m freezing back here.”
The guards spoke to each other, but she couldn’t hear anything with the road noise inside the van. “Please, can you give some heat? I’m freezing.”
The guards seemed to debate between them, then the female finally reached up to the dashboard. Shortly, it got more tolerable but not warm. The female guard turned to Callie and spoke loudly enough to be heard. “That’s all you get. We’re heading into an icy storm area, and we need to stay alert.”
Callie noticed for the first time that it had become pitch black through the front window, at least what she could see of it. Occasionally, there was a reflection of red tail lights ahead, but, after another hour, there were none. The noise level fell, as speed was reduced, and the officers both seemed to be leaning forward for better vision. They were talking in cryptic statements to each other, but she couldn’t hear the words.
She tried to sleep, but the police radio was turned up loudly, and the female was using the microphone. Callie couldn’t hear all the amplified dialogue but heard the term “closed,” which she assumed meant a road. She began to worry that the police were going to stop somewhere for the storm to pass, and she would be left without a jacket in the freezing van, wearing only the orange jump suit and shackles. She closed her eyes and figured that there wasn’t anything she could do and hoped that the police had matters under control.
In Lafayette, Jake was watching the weather channel through habit. Tibbs told him Callie was in transit and should arrive sometime after midnight. He didn’t expect to see her, but he was mildly concerned about her safety. He still wanted to regard her as his little girl, even though she was an admitted criminal with a distasteful past. They wouldn’t tell him about additional charges, but it sounded like she was involved in something even more serious than ste
aling from him. He didn’t want to speculate on that.
BJ called. “Hey, Jake. You watchin’ the weather?”
“Yeah. Not a night to be out on the road.”
BJ pried. “So, what’d you decide? You gonna let her serve her time in Georgia?”
Jake shrugged to himself. “No, BJ. She’s on her way back to Lafayette, although this weather could be more dangerous than leaving her there. I hope I made the right decision.”
The police van had cleared Atlanta several hours earlier and had just crossed the Alabama border on Interstate twenty, heading west. The officers in front were still talking and using the radio. At one point, they argued with each other and Callie heard the driver yell, “Screw them, a little ice ain’t gonna stop us.”
From the windshield, there had not been any reflected lights for a long time. She was cold again and scared. More than once, the van shimmied, but kept going straight. They had slowed down considerably. It was cold, black, and they were alone on the road. Then it happened. The van fishtailed violently and spun halfway around, tipping on its side. It seemed to glide up on two wheels momentarily until the tires grabbed, and the van flipped.
Callie was thrown against the sides and floor as the van flipped several times. She curled as tightly as she could with the constraints, but she felt sharp pain with each impact. Then