Page 48 of It's Going to Be a Chrome Christmas
Greg had called the office instead of calling her? Trixie pursed her lips. It didn’t make sense. If Cayden was sick, why wouldn’t he have called or texted her? Why hadn’t Greg? She didn’t like it, but it also wasn’t like she could leave work to go over to the Wynns’ and demand to see him.
She’d call Peggy. Later.
Trixie lifted her hands to her hair and put it up in a messy bun. She turned her attention to Joey. “Did Mr. Carson drop off their Bentley? Also, has anyone checked the tracking on the ’62 valve?”
“Carson is bringing in the Bentley today,” Joey answered without having to look at his calendar. “The valve was delivered yesterday. I sent you an email.”
She scowled. “You know I don’t check that.”
“Then don’t blame me when you don’t know parts have been delivered.”
Trixie resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him. “With Cayden out today, we’re going to have to split his tickets amongst the rest of us. Tell the boys. I’ll be down once I refill my coffee.”
Jeff stood. “Is it sad that I wish it was any of the others who had called out? Cayden’s a cocky SOB, but at least he can back it up with results. The others work at a snail’s pace compared to him.”
Trixie snorted, not admitting that she too wished any of the others had called out instead of Cayden. She missed him, and she didn’t like that he hadn’t called her directly. What was up with that? It was Friday. They were supposed to be starting their weekend together. Trixie didn’t know if his absence from work today messed up his furlough pass.
Maybe she should call Peggy sooner rather than later.
A cold chill ran down Cayden’s spine at the familiar buzzing of the gate’s locks. God, how he hated that buzzing. It had been the soundtrack to his life for thirty months. He’d sworn when hehad stepped out of this place that he’d never step back in. Yet here he was, nearly five months later, reentering Buford State Penitentiary. At least this time he was here as a visitor and not a resident.
It was only due to good behavior on his part and overcrowding on the prison’s that had allowed him to be released early on parole. He’d considered it his good fortune and had waved a joyous goodbye to his cellmate on the day of his release. What an ass he’d been. Cayden had walked free, but Tony had stayed.
Cayden had suffered thirty months. By his calculations, Tony was on month ninety-three. Christ, what must be going through that guy’s mind on a daily basis?
Ugh, he’d tried so hard to forget that smell. Emotions didn’t have distinct scents, but Cayden swore that distinctive prison odor was fear, misery, and pain. It made him want to gag.
He didn’t want to think about Trixie as he stepped inside. She was too good, too pure, for this hellhole. Even thoughts of her didn’t belong behind these walls. But it was only the thoughts of her that kept him sane as he stepped through the visitor’s entrance to the prison.
The hand on his shoulder was gentle. “You sure you want to do this?”
He turned to look at Mr. Jones. “I have to.”
Mr. Jones nodded. “I’m going to visit with some of the others. Take your time and come get me when you’re done.”
Cayden didn’t like the idea of Mr. Jones leaving him, but he forced himself to man up and nod. He was no coward. It was this place, though. It was like it sucked all the goodness out of the world.
He closed his eyes and thought of Trixie’s smile. It gave him the strength to walk forward and take a seat. It was odd, being onthis side of the glass wall. He probably should keep that feeling to himself too.
He waited long enough to wonder if Tony had declined his visit too, as Mrs. Wynn had said he had to Trixie’s, Addy’s, and her own attempts. He hoped the guard told him who his visitor was, and the curiosity of his old cellmate’s return would bring Tony out.
When the blue door leading into the prison buzzed open, a whirlwind of emotions struck Cayden. Tony’s right eye was swollen shut and he had a bandaged cut over that brow. His jaw was just as colorful. As he limped over to the seat, he flinched with every other step. The way he cradled his left arm to his side, Cayden suspected he had broken ribs. The orange jumpsuit prevented Cayden from seeing the stab wound.
Cayden looked for the familial similarities he’d missed before. In the picture of AJ in the courtroom, his hair had been long around his ears and curled just like Trixie’s. Tony had always kept his head shaved with only a little black stubble that grew between cuts. They had the same high cheekbones and mocha skin tone.
His left eye, the same shade as Trixie’s without her shining light, was suspicious as he lowered himself into the seat.
Cayden gestured to the phone on the other side of the glass before grabbing his own.
“Boost? What are you doing here, man?” Tony sounded the same as he always had, but for the first time, Cayden picked up on the defeat in his voice.
“I heard what happened. I needed to see you were okay.”
Tony shrugged, and then flinched in pain. “Unfortunately, even this place can’t seem to kill me, though not for lack of trying.”
Cayden didn’t laugh at the morbid humor as he might once have. “I need to tell you some things and I need you to stay calmwhen I do.” Tony frowned but nodded. “My rehabilitation officer placed me with Greg and Peggy Wynn. You’re familiar with their halfway house?”
Tony dipped his head once.
