Page 6 of Hidden Truths

“I should be home tomorrow.”

“I love you, Daddy.” The phone went dead.

Max hung up and sighed, then he did as he’d promised.

He prayed that Kellen would live.

He prayed for a miracle.

CHAPTER FOUR

THEPRISONDATEDfrom the early fifties, and everything about its architecture screamed of that barren, forcefully modern and completely unattractive age. Its technology, however, was the best, with cameras that peered from every corner, large monitors that displayed every place the cameras watched, microphones that pried, and invasive body scans. This place was a modern airport with less conscience and kindness.

Max made it through the searches and scans, and was taken to the warden’s office, where Warden Arbuckle welcomed Max with a smile and a handshake delivered over his wide desk. “How good to meet the great Max Di Luca. Jack has been talking about you for years!”

“You know Jack?” Max asked cautiously. He wouldn’t have thought it. The warden seemed to be everything Jack was not: well dressed, well-spoken, in charge, lightly tanned and with a well-done comb-over.

“It’s a small town. Everyone here knows everyone else. Gosh, Elyse’s family founded McFarrellville!” Warden Arbuckle gestured at the woman standing against the wall. “Assistant Warden Korthauer is a McFarrell, also.”

The woman who stepped forward looked nothing like Elyse Shales. She was about Jack’s height and had a sturdy, shapely frame that displayed her guard’s uniform to advantage. It was only when she looked at Max straight on that he saw the family resemblance; those blue eyes displayed Elyse’s critical insolence and a ruthless curiosity. She shook Max’s hand, crushing the fingers, and he let her because he’d been taught not to take up those kinds of challenges.

But he did take note. “How pleasant to meet you.”

“Have a seat.” Warden Arbuckle waved Max toward a guest chair.

Max did not sit. He looked between the warden and the assistant warden. “Which one of you will take me to Mara Philippi?”

“We have her on video for you right here in my office.” Warden Arbuckle switched on the monitor on his desk.

Instantly, abruptly furious, Max reached out and caught his hand.

Assistant Warden Korthauer stepped forward, her hand on her sidearm. “Release Warden Arbuckle.”

Max ignored her and stared into Arbuckle’s eyes. “That wasn’t the deal.”

Korthauer’s hand twitched on her sidearm.

“I don’t make deals,” Warden Arbuckle said frostily.

“When Warden Hartness from Texas spoke to you, you agreed I would be allowed to visit Mara Philippi face-to-face.”

Chagrined, Warden Arbuckle looked between Max and Korthauer.

“We don’t allow that. She’s a serial killer. Visitors can end up dead that way. We can’t afford the liability.” Korthauer had her spiel down pat.

Without removing his gaze from Warden Arbuckle, Max asked, “So, Arbuckle, should I be addressing her? Is she the one in charge?”

“No.” Warden Arbuckle shook Max’s grip off his hand. “No, I’m in charge. Assistant Warden Korthauer did her job by earlier reminding me of the liability issues of allowing you to confront Mara Philippi. The video solution is—”

Max rolled right over the top of that. “I didn’t need to come to McFelonville, Utah, to view Mara Philippi on a video. I could have done that in Oregon—and did. From a distance, yes, it looks like Mara. But I knew her. I worked with her. I took her out when she would have shot my wife, and I want to see her in person with nothing between us but some bars. I want to know it’s really her in that cell.”

“Who else would it be?” Assistant Warden Korthauer sounded patient and patronizing.

Max turned on her. “I don’t know. I only know she’s been spotted in Oregon, and she can’t be in two places at once.”

“Who spotted her in Oregon?” Korthauer asked.

“My wife.”

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