Forgotten

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“He’s going to die in there. I mean, it’s only a matter of time. My boy...” The man’s voice choked. “There’s a gang inside. Friends of the man that got killed.”

Listening on his mobile, Colter Shaw noted the passive construction of the sentence. He didn’t say: Friends of the man that Jude was convicted of killing. Though that was what had happened.

“They’re out to get him. I know it! He’s afraid to walk outside in the prison yard. He’s afraid to eat meals.”

“Can’t they segregate him?”

“No. Or they won’t.”

“Has anyone else called about the reward?”

“A couple people,” Arnie Sterling told him. “They didn’t know anything about the case. They were just wanting the money and were making up something about Jude. Alibis, but they weren’t right.”

“You’ve tried private eyes?”

“One or two. They weren’t interested. And I can’t afford them anyway, not the good ones. It was all I could do to scrape up the reward. I mean, it’s nothing, I know. But it’s all we could think of to do.”

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