Page 5 of Justice

“Check out page three, it will make you feel better.”

Justice sat down at their usual table, setting her tray down and flipped the paper open. Grabbing her glass of juice, she presses the icy drink to her aching breast. Normally, the warden didn’t allow the inmates to have anything besides a tray during meal times, but she allowed Justice and Molly a few courtesies.

“Harold Tillman, aka The Enforcer, was convicted in Federal Court on racketeering and money laundering charges.”

Justice had been following the news of Red’s club members since her incarceration. From what she could piece together, he had crawled into bed with a new partner, one some members didn’t agree with, considering the number of men he had lost in the last four years. Until now, she hadn’t been certain what kind of shit he had stepped in, only that it had cost him ten men so far.

“Bastard is laundering money.” Justice huffed in disbelief, tossing the paper to the table. It landed on the opposite page face up, a name in bold print catching her eye. Snatching the paper off the table, she scans the article twice, her heart and mind racing as she absorbs the news.

“Listen to this shit,” she begins, tapping the back of Molly’s hand to gain her attention. “System-One is under investigation for fraud. Acting on an anonymous tip, state officials raided the home office of the Georgia-based lab, where they confiscated an undisclosed number of records. Sources say many of the records seized were those used in court cases throughout the state, some of which led to guilty convictions. Bart Chambers, CEO of the company, was unavailable for comment at the time of print.”

Justice tosses the paper to the table, taking a mouthful of the bitter coffee and lifts her eyes across the table where Molly sits.

Normally her best friend has her head buried in the ledger she keeps all her transactions in. But today, the book is closed and off to the side, her chin is propped up by her left arm, and her leg is bouncing a mile a minute.

“Did you hear me?”

She waits for a moment as Molly’s eyes stare off into the distance as if lost in a trance. Justice’s worry grows larger the longer her friend sits there motionless and ignoring her. Having enough, she slams her hand on the table, causing Molly, and several other inmates, to jump.

“Hey, did you drink some of Matilda’s hooch again?”

Matilda Little was housed over in minimum security serving two years for the illegal manufacturing of alcohol. She and her brothers had several stills in the mountains of north Georgia. They had a thriving business until one of the brother’s girlfriends caught him with another girl and she went to the cops. Since Matilda’s hooch is a local legend, the warden allows her to continue to brew her special recipe, selling it at a premium to various sources and at Area Sixty-Nine.

“No, Justice, you know I swore off that shit.”

Matilda wanted some hair dye, so she traded a jar of hooch for two boxes of hair color. Molly took the stuff back to their cell and proceeded to drink the pint by herself. She woke up when Justice came back from Area Sixty-Nine, drunk as hell and seeing unicorns dancing around the room. A few hours later, Justice had to help her to the infirmary, where the nurse treated her for what they diagnosed as the flu. After spending so much time vomiting in the toilet in the infirmary, Molly swore never to drink again.

“Cora bring you some Devil’s Lettuce?” Justice wiggled her eyebrows as a tease.

Originally from Jamaica, Cora had been pulled over by the Georgia State Police and found to have nearly three-hundred pounds of marijuana in the van she was driving. She was given fifteen months due to the high volume. When the warden found out the street value of what she had, she put Cora back in business inside the prison gardens. Molly calls it Devil’s Lettuce due to where it is grown.

“No.” Molly leans forward, her face serious as she looks left and right to see if anyone is listening. Justice mimics her position, resting her arms on the table. “Spoke with Sanchez this morning when I was getting my shipment. He says there’s a new girl arriving today, some bitch from up north.”

“Yeah, so? We get new girls all the time. What’s special about this one?”

Molly wasn’t just the storekeeper in prison, she also knew everything. Nothing happened inside these walls she wasn’t aware of.

“Deidre Hannigan, some mob boss’s wife. She shot and killed a state trooper when he pulled her over for speeding. According to Sanchez, her husband didn’t even try to get her off; never posted bail and hired a local lawyer to represent her. Dude had one of those high-end transport companies come down and load her Maserati into one of those closed in trailers and shipped it back to Boston.”

“Let me guess, he found some kid fresh out of law school to represent her?”

“Nope.” Molly shook her head, the brow over her left eye raised. “Steven Jacobs.”

Justice’s mouth gaped open as she ruminated on the name. Steven Jacobs was a seasoned attorney, until a few years ago, he was the States Attorney for Georgia.

“I mean come on, Justice. This gal has to be trouble if her mob boss husband would rather her sit in prison, possibly spewing his secrets to anyone who will listen, instead of in his bed where he can silence her mouth with his fucking dick.”

“Maybe she sucks at blow jobs.” Justice deadpans, trying to dissipate the tension coming from Molly.

“I’m serious, Justice, we need to keep an eye on this bitch. Offer an incentive to the network, if they hear anything going down they need to report it immediately.”

Molly had women all over the prison who reported back to her, she referred to them as her network and paid them in goods and services. The bigger the information, the better she paid them.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Molly shook her head, the skin on her forehead wrinkling.

“Hey, at least he hired a decent attorney to defend her, that has to count for something.” Justice reasoned, trying her best to make her friend feel better.

“Maybe,” Molly shrugged her shoulders, “but it’s hard to beat a body camera, even if you have the kind of money he apparently has to buy the best attorney in the state.”