Page 148 of Tear Me Apart
They come to get her at noon. She is escorted from her cell to the receiving room and left there to sit on the dirty metal stool. Everything here is dirty; though it’s been cleaned, again and again, the stink of raw bleach hangs on every corner like a blanket. Bleach and fear, the prison olfactory. Plus the dirt of a thousand people, grimed into the history of the place.
There is a phone on her side of the Plexiglas, and a phone on the other side as well.
She doesn’t know who is coming to see her. The visit isn’t scheduled, isn’t on the books. Her lawyers usually send word ahead, and they’ve informed her they will come on Tuesdays and Thursdays to discuss her upcoming hearings. The guards tell her when someone else will be coming; she keeps hoping for Jasper, but he’s steered clear. She doesn’t blame him; there is still so much at stake. Sometimes the CBI agents come to accuse her of awful things. This time, there was no forewarning, and she is vaguely curious, but happy for the unscheduled alteration of her day.
She hopes for a moment that it’s Mindy. She’s torn; she desperately wants to see her daughter—yes, daughter, still; she will always think of Mindy as her own—but hates the idea of her seeing her mother behind bars like this.
Those hopes are dashed when the door opens, and a tall, dark, handsome man steps through.
Zack Armstrong has finally come to call.
He sits and stares for a moment, as if unsure what to do, then picks up the phone. She picks up on her end.
“Hello, Zack.”
“Lauren.”
“How’s Mindy?”
He doesn’t answer, and she sighs. “Please, Zack.”
“She’s better. The transplant worked. She has another round of chemo to go, but Oliver is very hopeful. It’s too early to say she’s in remission, but the cancer has stopped growing.”
For a brief moment, she shuts her eyes and raises her head skyward.Thank you.
“Is she still refusing to see me?”
“Yes. Do you blame her?”
“I blame myself. If I hadn’t stopped off to pull Juliet’s plug I would have had time to talk to her properly.”
Zack stares at her. “Are you really crazy, or are you just playing another long con?”
“What do you think?”
She is enjoying the cat and mouse. Everything here has been so dull and gray. She’s not one for torture, but it’s rather fun to watch him squirm.
Not healthy, though. She needs to keep him in check for a little while longer.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say things like that. The prison psychiatrist says I’m too impulsive. That I blurt things out without thinking of the effect they might have on other people.”
“I’ll say.”
“Why didn’t you come sooner?”
“Lauren, just cut to the chase, okay? I don’t want to play your games anymore.”
“Fine. Quid pro quo, my friend. I will help you if you help me.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“No? You don’t want to know what really happened? Then what do you want? If it’s within my power, I’ll make it happen.”
“You’re in jail, Lauren. Haven’t you figured out yet that you have no power?”
“Suit yourself. When you’re ready to deal, you come on back. You know where to find me.”
She stands, smiling, and begins to put down the phone.
