Riven - Jerry B. Jenkins [120]
“Early release.”
“How would I qualify for that?”
“Few do, but we’re processing in over a thousand new inmates a week, and fewer than that are being processed out. We can’t expand, and we can’t add cells, so all we can do is add newcomers to the cells we have. How many cellmates you got now?”
“Six.”
“See? Your cell was built for two, and by next week, you’ll have a seventh in there. Guys with worse records than yours are getting out, just due to overcrowding. Don’t you want that? ’Cause as a known gang member, you don’t qualify.”
“But if I don’t have protection, I’m dead anyway. See, I’m not really part of the gang. You gotta believe me. I’m just playing Tiny to stay safe.”
Lieutenant Dale sat back and slowly looked Brady up and down. “Fact is,” he said, “I’m inclined to believe you. You don’t look the type. Amazing you’ve kept from getting hurt this long.”
“It’s true!”
“You want to prove it? Help us out.”
“I’m listening.”
“We need information. We have a pretty good idea who’s who and where they all fit. But we have to know for sure. If you’re as wired in as you say you are—and if you’re really just using them—then you can tell us things we would otherwise have no way of knowing. Is that right or not?”
“Sure, and I’d be happy to help. But aren’t they going to notice if I keep getting called in here?”
“We can fix that. We’ll spread the word that we shook you down for information, even offered you early release, and you turned us down flat out of loyalty. How’s that sound?”
“Beautiful!”
“But you have to give us straight stuff on as many of these guys as you can.”
Over the next two years, Brady became the most reliable informant the antigang unit had at County. He had been scheduled to be sent to state prison for eight years, but Dale worked to get him released after five, provided he could serve it all at Adamsville County.
“This is where we need you most, and if you stay helpful, it’ll shave three years off the other end. But you have to be honest with me, man. You’re getting dope, aren’t you?”
Brady pressed his lips together, considering his options. He had been honest with this guy all along. So far it was paying off, and if he could really be free in a few years, that’s what he wanted. But no one was supposed to stay at County that long. He only hoped the other cons never figured that out.
“Drugs? Me? What makes you ask?”
“I can see it in your eyes, Darby. I just need to know the truth, man.”
“Yeah, I’m getting what I need.”
“At some point, we’re going to need to know how that stuff gets in here.”
“You don’t want to know.”
“You think I’m naive enough to be surprised it’s coming from our own people?”
“No, I’m just saying—”
“Here’s the thing: you know it’s a crime for a convicted felon to possess, let alone use. That alone could get you five or ten more years tacked on. But we both know that if you all of a sudden go clean, you give yourself away.
“Now, we’re trying to help each other, Brady, and I like you. So here’s what I want from you: a pledge. You promise that when we finally get you out of here, you won’t go straight back on the streets as a meth head.”
“I don’t want to.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Yeah, but I know myself. I want to be straight with you, and I’m telling you, if I don’t have some kind of help, I could be in trouble as soon as I get out. I got no job waiting for me, no family, no girl, no place to live.”
“How do you feel about a halfway house?”
Brady shrugged. “Better than nothing. I mean, I got zero else out there.”
“There’d be accountability. They’d know where you are, and you’d have to stay clean. They’d help you find work and eventually a place of your own. It won’t be much, but you can build from there. Start making yourself a real life.”
“I’d try. I sure would.”
“Is that a deal? We do what we say we’ll do, and you’ll do what you say?”
Brady was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to remain transparent with Dale. He was the first since Clancy Nabertowitz who really seemed to believe in him.
“I got to tell you the truth, sir. They’re going to really have