Last Call

"Sorry Jack. Hate to get you out of bed."

"It's okay" said Jack, a frog in his throat. "What's up?"

"I wouldn't bother you like this in the middle of the night, but I just got a bad feelin' in my bones. It's Theo."

"What about him?"

"I been layin' here in bed thinking ever since you called me about this Moses. And it finally just comes to me. Theo got shot while Moses was in jail and Theo was on the outside."

"Yeah, so?"

"Now Moses is on the outside and Theo's on the inside. See what I'm sayin'?"

The line was silent as Jack mulled it over. "Makes perfect sense," he said finally. "A convenient disco

Cy's response came from deep inside him, a place laden with emotion. "We gotta get my nephew out of that jail."

Chapter 32

The salty taste of his own blood oozed from Theo's mouth. His ribs hurt, his testicles were swollen, his fingers felt like they'd been slammed in a car door, and the back of his legs still stung from MacDonald's nightstick.

And no end was in sight.

Theo lay on his side, his back to the guard, the concrete floor cool against his face. There was an art to getting through a beating of this sort, and Theo had been reaching inside himself for all the old techniques. The basic strategy was to leave your body and take a mental journey to some other place as far away as possible. To that end, he'd been thinking a lot about Trina – the passion in her eyes, the softness of her skin, the tingle of her touch. It wasn't working as well as he'd hoped.

"For the last time," he said in a tired voice. "I got no idea where Moses is."

MacDonald was sitting in the oak chair, resting and breathing heavily. Apparently, knocking the stuffing out of a man in handcuffs was hard work.

"Then you have a huge problem, Knight. Because I still don't believe a word you say."

"Why would I protect Moses like this?"

"Because he's your brotha'."

"I hardly know him."

"Doesn't matter. He helped your buddy Isaac. Just like you did."

Theo breathed through the pain. His interest was piqued. "What're you talkin' about?"

"You helped Isaac on the outside. Moses helped him on the inside"

"How you know that?" said Theo.

MacDonald rose from the chair and kicked Theo in the lower back. It must have hit the sciatic nerve, because the pain shot down Theo's leg like a lightening bolt.

"I know it," the guard said, seething, "because you're go

Theo heard a key in the lock, and the door opened. He didn't turn to look, but the sound of footsteps told him that someone else was in the room.

Great. A gang bang.

"What the hell's going on in here?" the other man said.

Theo didn't recognize the voice, but he seemed to have seniority over MacDonald, based on the tone.

"Just a little interrogation," said MacDonald.

The man stepped closer and stopped behind Theo. Theo raised his head to look.

"Eyes forward," the man said, turning Theo's face away with a prod of his nightstick to the chin.

The signs of abuse were all over him, and Theo could only surmise that this officer was smart enough to keep Theo from witnessing the reproving looks he was throwing a fellow guard.

"You can go, MacDonald," the man said.

"But I'm not finished." I said go.

Theo sensed tension in the ensuing silence, but finally MacDonald crossed the room and opened the door. He stopped and said, "I should have cuffed him sooner. Unfortunately I had to use force after the prisoner jumped me. It'll all be in my report."

"Beat it," the man said.

The door closed, and Theo was alone in the interrogation room with the other officer.

"You all right?" he asked Theo.

"Been better."

"Can you walk?"

"If it gets me outta here, I can."

Theo groaned with pain as the guard took his arm and helped him up. The man was black. Thus far Theo had dealt only with white and Hispanic guards, so he didn't recognize him. He glanced at the name tag. Jefferson.

"Where's it hurt?" said Jefferson.

"Everywhere," said Theo. "My ribs, mostly."

"Come on. Let's get you up to the infirmary."

"Just take me to my cell."

"No," the guard said. "MacDonald packs a wallop. You need to spend the night in the infirmary. Doctor can check you out first thing in the morning and get you over to Jackson if need be."

Jackson Memorial Hospital was where Theo had ended up after the drive-by shooting. If this kept up, they'd be selling him a time-share. "I already got stitches in my head. He bust 'em open?"

"Doesn't look like it," said Jefferson.

With the guard's help, Theo put one foot in front of the other and made it to the door. The guard shut off the light, and they started down the corridor. Theo was shuffling his feet more than walking, the pain in his ribs forcing him to favor his left side.

"Good thing for me you came when you did," said Theo.

"Good thing for everyone."

This Jefferson seemed like an all right dude. It was worth a shot to probe for a little information. "MacDonald tells me Moses killed a state trooper tonight."

"MacDonald talks too much."

"He thinks I know where Moses was headed."

"Like I said: he talks too much."

So much for loose lips.

Another guard looked on with mild amusement as Jefferson and his battered prisoner passed in the hallway. They walked another thirty feet and stopped at the iron bars. The buzzer sounded, the door slid open, and they entered the next wing. Theo's legs were killing him, but thankfully it only took another two minutes to reach the infirmary. The door was made of chain link rather than iron bars. Jefferson unlocked it with his key and escorted Theo inside.

The medical staff had gone home for the night, so Jefferson signed Theo's name into the log book at the registration desk and took him inside. The infirmary was a dormitory-style facility with a dozen beds on either side of the rectangular-shaped room and a wide aisle down the center. A crash cart and a gurney were in the corner, next to a row of IV poles. Only one other inmate was a patient, and he was asleep at the other end of the room, snoring loudly. It was lights-out for the entire jail, but the barred windows had no shades, and the nighttime security lighting allowed them to see what they were doing. Jefferson put Theo in the near bed.

Theo let out another groan as he settled onto the mattress. It was more comfortable than the bunk in his cell, but not even a heated waterbed could have soothed these bruises. That his hands were still cuffed behind his back only made it worse. Jefferson helped him roll onto his side and slid a pillow under his head. Theo asked for water, and the guard brought him a cup to rinse the blood from his mouth. Fortunately, the bleeding had stopped.

Jefferson said, "I'll find MacDonald and see if I can get the keys to these cuffs."

"That would help."

"You okay for now?"

"I think so."

Jefferson left him there. Theo heard his footsteps fade, heard the door open and then close. The noise was loud enough to disturb the other inmate. He snorted twice, smacked like a toddler eating peanut butter, and mercifully his snoring stopped. Theo lay with his back to him, however, so he couldn't tell if the man was actually awake or simply sleeping in a position that wasn't conducive to snoring. Either way, Theo appreciated the silence.

Theo closed his eyes, but they soon opened. Oddly, the silence was almost too complete, at least for a jail. Snoring, farting, puking, grunting, cursing, pissing, howling, sucking, fucking – those were the normal sounds of prison in the dead of night. It felt strange to hear none of it. Beyond strange.