Chapter 2

“Bastard,” Donna whispered under her breath as they neared the end of the hall.

“I’m prepared for it,” Cam answered.

“No talking!” came a barked order from behind Cameron.

At the end of the corridor, they were met by three stern and bored looking guards, all female

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Donna Trachner,” the first guard greeted them, looking happily at Donna, from behind the gate. “Welcome back, girl. I knew you couldn’t bear to be without us. What you in for this time?”

“Same ol’ same old,” Donna said. She had been arrested for prostitution and for robbing the johns she picked up. This was her third or fourth time in prison. “How you doing, Dee? Miss me?”

“Oh, you bet, Sugar Bumps,” Dee smiled. “Missed you a lot. Things are really quiet without you. I’m glad you’re back. Who’d you bring with you?”

Donna shrugged.

“Hand me your files!” the second guard ordered, obviously not in the mood for casual conversation. “Sorry we can’t spend more time on this blessed reunion.”

Cam held out the files as far as the shackles would allow her to stretch her arm. As the guard took them, she acknowledged the male guard who had escorted the women, then pushed yet another button that slid the heavy door back. “Come on inside, ladies.” As it slid back, Donna led the way through into the next corridor, which was painted in the same gunmetal grey as the last hallway, with its grey cement floors. The door closed behind them with another heavy thud.

Without taking her eyes off the files she was now perusing, the guard, whose name badge read “M. Emerson,” addressed the other two guards. “Take them and get their processing started. See if Dr. Keystone is ready to examine them yet.”

As Cam started past her, M. Emerson put out a hand to stop her. Not any taller than Cam, Emerson outweighed her by a good sixty pounds and whether Cam wanted to or not, she felt intimidated by the cold, hard authoritarian look on her face. Cam waited as Emerson’s eyes ran the full length of her, from her head to her feet. Having obviously passed the inspection, Cam was allowed to continue.

“Be wary of this one,” Emerson warned the guard who waited to escort Cam, “Ex-cop.” Cam sighed as the guard took her forcefully by the arm and pushed her forward. This was not going to be a good day.

* * * *

The processing took a lot longer than it should have, but no one seemed in a rush to finish any of the paperwork. The pouches containing their few personal belongings were inventoried and they signed receipts for storage. Cameron read down the short list of her property: the shirt and trousers she’d worn to court to plead guilty and a wallet containing her driver’s license and $16.37. Maggie had warned her not to take anything valuable with her, that if she pleaded guilty, she’d immediately be taken into custody again, her bail revoked.

Now, after being stripped and ordered to take a rather short, but hot shower with an abrasive soap, Cam sat on a cold metal chair wrapped only in a short, thin gown. Cam had tried to do what she was told without hesitation or balking, but no matter how co-operative she was, the guards always found something she hadn’t done quite right, quite fast enough, or quite enthusiastically enough to suit them. Charlie had said they’d push her, that ex-police were viewed as scum inside the prison, both by guards and by inmates. She’d believed him, but the experience was almost more than he’d prepared her for. At least she wasn’t sprayed with delousing disinfectant like on her first day in the city jail. Her skin still burned from that harsh treatment.

Looking at the other two, Cam was almost glad she’d attracted so much attention during this introduction to prison life. Donna seemed bored, but Sharon looked like she was on the verge of tears, even though most of the attention was centered on Cam. Donna stepped forward first to have her physical exam, but Sharon was more hesitant when her turn came. As she was escorted into the examining room, Cam could see that she was shaking slightly.

Cam watched her go, wondering if she was anxious because she was trying to hide something. Or was there something about her, physically, that she was embarrassed about? No. She hadn’t really looked at Sharon when they were all in the shower together, but nothing seemed out of place. Maybe Sharon was high-strung. Or maybe she’s just cold, like me, Cam thought, trying to adjust the thin gown she now wore.