Riven - Jerry B. Jenkins [182]
“No, nothing like that. I just really need to see him.”
“Harrington can’t shortcut the system any better’n anybody else. I’ll get you a form.”
“That could take days. I need to see him right away.”
“You want the form or not? ’Cause it doesn’t make any difference to me either way.”
“Okay.”
Under “Reason for Requested Meeting,” Brady wrote, “Counseling. I need to confess with my mouth.” Chaplain Carey would know what he was getting at.
About twenty minutes after Brady filled out the form, Rudy Harrington came by. “You looking for me, Darby? We’re not friends, you know.”
“I know, but I need a favor.”
“So do I, but you’ve got nothing I want.”
“Listen, I was just wondering if you could call the chaplain and tell him I need to see him right away.”
“Why? You seen the light, wanna give your life to God now?”
“Maybe. Just . . . would you?”
“You fill out the form?”
“Yeah, but you know how long—”
“Give it to me. If I can get to him, I will. Now how are you going to repay me?”
“I don’t know. Like you said, I’ve got nothing.”
“I’ll think of a way.”
“Thanks, man.”
Harrington leaned close to the door and whispered, “One thing I don’t need is you gettin’ chummy, understand? We keep our distance.”
“Got it.”
Administration Wing
It was rare but not unheard of for Thomas to take a call from a corrections officer, but this was the first time he had ever spoken with Rudy Harrington. The man sounded cordial enough—more than Thomas could say about many of the officers.
“I appreciate your letting me know, officer. I’ll need that form in order to expedite—”
“I got no time to be ferrying paperwork all over the place. I mean no disrespect, but how about you come find me and I’ll have the form for you?”
That was reasonable enough, but Thomas found himself excited. Knowing what this could mean, he didn’t want to waste any time. He stopped in Frank LeRoy’s office on his way out.
“. . . so if the form is asking for a visit and I deem it legitimate, can I just head directly to his cell?”
“Yeah, no. See, you’re circumventing protocol here, and I think—”
“Frank, sir, now please. Nobody but you is going to know if something happens a little out of the ordinary here. I’m supposed to look after the spiritual well-being of these men, and frankly, I’m making some progress with this one.”
“That’s all we need, a high-profile con getting religion. You keep this under wraps, whatever it is, you hear?”
“I will, Frank. Now can I see him if—”
“Yes, yes. See him. Just don’t make it obvious anything’s out of the ordinary.”
“I should tell you that Officer Harrington is aware that a form is in the works.”
“Rudy? He’s all right. Stellar record. You don’t have to worry about him.”
Thomas rushed back to his office for his Bible and for Grace’s tape. As he swept past Gladys’s cubicle, she called out, “Hey there, Reverend! Where’s the fire?”
He peeked over the partition. “Pray for Brady Darby. And please call Grace and ask her to do the same.”
She gave him a thumbs-up and he was off again, but as Thomas began the laborious process of getting all the way to the death row pod, something dark and depressing came over him. With every step, every procedure, and past every block of cells, he was reminded how difficult the work here had been for so many years and how many cons had tried to con him.
Thomas wanted to believe that Brady Darby was different, that he was sincere, but how could he know? He reminded himself that God had put Brady on his heart from the moment he saw him, that Thomas believed God had even told him to tell Brady that He loved him. More people were praying for this man than for anyone Thomas had tried to reach since Henry Trenton.
Ugh! Why did he have to come to mind? Thomas didn’t think he could endure another case like that. Whatever he did, he was going to make sure Darby was for real.
It took more than five minutes for Thomas to locate Rudy Harrington. The officer appeared in a hurry as he thrust the request form into Thomas’s hands.
“I appreciate this,” Thomas said, “and I trust you and I can keep