Page 11 of Hidden Truths

“So you’ve said.”

“You don’t understand what Mara Philippi is.”

“I do.”

“All right, you don’t understand what she’s done since she’s been here. She was illiterate. She demanded to be taught to read. We kept her tutor separate, on the other side of a window. He used a microphone and there was a slot underneath where he could pass materials. Mara behaved so reasonably, the tutor was lulled into the belief that we were exaggerating. He fell in love, put his hand through the slot to touch her. She bit his finger so hard he couldn’t get loose. We had to pry her jaws open. The poor sap had to have surgery to reattach a ligament.” Warden Arbuckle swung away from Max. “No! Not tonight. I can’t do it! I don’t have the necessary manpower.”

Max knew when he was defeated. “What time tomorrow morning?”

“Eleven.”

“Nine.”

“Ten.”

“At ten a.m., Mara Philippi, or the woman in her cell, will be behind bars, where I’ll be able to clearly view her, speak to her.”

Max never doubted that Warden Arbuckle loathed him. “That’s the deal. Then you’ll leave town.”

“I’ll be glad to leave town.” Max had never meant anything so much in his life. He also knew if somehow Mara Philippi had escaped, or been set free, and that seemed more and more likely, the warden and assistant warden were at the least guilty of concealing that fact. In this small town, they were powerful people. In this grim prison, they had learned to utilize violence. For the first time, he wondered—would he survive this trip?

CHAPTER EIGHT

ELYSESTOODINthe doorway of the Aloha Motel office. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon!” she chirped.

Max paused on his trip to his room, number 7. He turned on his heel to face her. “Didn’t expect to see me so soon? What do you mean?”

“I heard you had a flat tire.” She stared at him and smiled, challenging him without fear.

“Where did you hear that?”

“It’s McFarrellville. News travels fast.”

“Of a simple flat?” Not only flat, but slashed, yet he hadn’t reported that to the police.

“You had to call someone, and that’s business for McFarrellville Tire. Russ is my cousin.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint Russ and them, but I changed it myself.”

She looked Max up and down. “I would have never guessed.”

He headed back toward her, toward the office. “Can I get my bottles of water and the DVD ofHunt for Red October?” He’d seen it enough times it would occupy only half his mind, leaving him room to puzzle out the prison’s obstruction, and worry about Kellen, whether his mother was right, whether Rae was right, whether Kellen would survive long enough for him to return.

Elyse pulled the two bottles out of the college-sized refrigerator behind the counter and had him sign for the DVD. He made her take note of the scratch on the corner; damned if he was going to buy the Aloha Motel a new copy of the movie.

“Goodbye,” she said. “Good luck.”

Before he stepped out the door, his phone rang. He snatched it from his pocket, saw the name on caller ID, and sighed with relief and annoyance.

Washington, DC. Nils Brooks. Damn him to hell.

Max stepped outside into the blaring sunset and answered. “Nils. What?”

“Did you see her? Who is it?” Nils asked.

Max ignored one question, answered the other. “No.”

“What do you mean, ‘No’? Did you see her? Is it her? Is it Mara Philippi?”

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