knees went weak the instant the other man disappeared, and she sat down hard on the bench. She couldn’t believe what she’d done. Couldn’t believe one of her co-workers had seen her do it. What had she been thinking letting an inmate kiss her?
Groaning, she put her face in her hands. “I’m finished as a corrections officer.”
“Look, if I hadn’t done what I did, you would have brought down the wrath of God knows how many corrections officers, and I’d be on the floor getting a mouthful of concrete about now.”
Raising her head, all she could think of was that she was twenty-eight years old and she’d never been kissed like that in her life. Suddenly she felt as much contempt for herself as she did for the inmate.
He glanced toward the door. “Look, things are about to get nasty. I’m going to go while the going is good. I appreciate the help.”
“Don’t thank me for something I didn’t do,” she said, giving him a seething look. “I’m going to hit the alarm the moment you walk out that door.”
“Just remember that things aren’t always what they appear,” he said. “No matter what you hear about me later, don’t forget that.”
No, Emily thought, she didn’t think she would ever forget this night no matter how much she wanted to.
“Watch your back.” Giving her a mock salute, he slid through the doorway with the soundless grace of a panther and disappeared into the dimly lit corridor.
For several seconds Emily sat motionless on the bench and listened to the hard pounding of her heart. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Couldn’t believe levelheaded Emily Monroe had fallen for the oldest con in the book. She’d dishonored herself, jeopardized her job and compromised everything she’d ever believed in.
Just like her father.
She rose on trembling legs and started for the alarm panel. She was midway there when movement at the doorway drew her attention. For an instant she thought Devlin—or whatever his name was—had returned. She was surprised to see, of all people, Marcus Underwood, the administrator of Lockdown, Inc., the private corporation that ran the Bitterroot Super Max. What on earth was he doing at the prison this early in the morning?
“Mr. Underwood,” she said. “I was just—”
“Officer Monroe.” He crossed to her, followed by another man. “We caught part of what happened on the security cameras from the command center. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said.
“You’re aware that we’re currently under a code yellow.”
“Yes, sir. I was about to hit the alarm. An inmate overpowered me in the infirmary less than ten minutes ago.” Her voice shook as she described the situation she’d walked into at the infirmary. “He identified himself as Zack Devlin.”
The two men exchanged a look that sent a chill up her spine. “Devlin has a long and violent history,” Underwood said.
“Did he get away?” she asked.
“Nobody gets away from Lockdown, Inc.” The second man came up beside Underwood. The stripes on his shoulders told her he was a lieutenant, but she’d never met him. “We’ll get him.”
Underwood addressed Emily. “Did he tell you anything? Mention where he was going?”
She shook her head. “All I know is that he’s wearing a Lockdown, Inc. uniform and coat and that he’s armed with a semiautomatic pistol.”
“How did he get a weapon?” Underwood asked no one in particular.
“Evidently he had help,” the lieutenant said. “Someone must have smuggled it in.”
“Zack Devlin could talk a nun into lying for him.” Underwood looked grim. “Put out a code red.”
“Yes, sir.” The lieutenant reached for his radio and began barking orders.
Hearing the squeak of rubber against concrete, Emily turned to see a man in a white lab coat standing in the doorway.
“Ah, Dr. Lionel,” began Underwood. “Before we take Officer Monroe to the debriefing room for a statement, we thought it would be a good idea for you to look her over, make sure she’s all right.” He turned his attention to Emily. “You’ve been through quite an ordeal with a very dangerous criminal. Lockdown, Inc.’s policy requires you to be thoroughly checked out by one of our medical personnel.”
“I’m fine.” She just wanted to get the paperwork finished so she could go home and forget this ever happened.
The three men were staring intently at her. Emily started to tremble when she noticed the syringe in Dr. Lionel’s hand. “What’s that for?” she asked.
Underwood gave her a reassuring smile. “I can see that you’re upset. You’re still shaking. Dr. Lionel is just going to give you a little something to help you relax.”
“I don’t need to relax.” Emily didn’t know what was going on, but there was something very wrong with this picture. As crazy as it sounded, she couldn’t shake the suspicion that these men hadn’t appeared out of nowhere to help her or debrief her. But why would they harm her? What could they possibly have to gain?
“What’s this all about?” she said. “What’s going on?”
Underwood spoke. “Did Zack Devlin tell you anything, Emily?”
Warily she glanced from man to man. “I’ve already told you everything that happened.”
“Everything, Emily? Are you absolutely certain? We were watching you on the security cameras, you know. You and Devlin seemed to be quite…close for having just met.”
The kiss, she thought and closed her eyes briefly. Dear Lord, they think I helped Devlin escape. “I— I can explain what happened.”
“Please do.”
“H-he surprised me. I was so…stunned, I couldn’t react.”
“Do you have any idea what the penalty is for aiding and abetting an escaped convict?” the lieutenant asked.
“I…didn’t,” she said breathlessly. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Your father did.”
Humiliation cut her at the mention of her father, but she kept her shoulders square, her chin up. “I know how this might look, but I did not help that man escape.”
“Someone did,” the lieutenant said.
“I followed policy and procedure,” she maintained.
“Of course you did.” Underwood assumed the classic good-cop role. “And now you’re going to tell us what Devlin told you.”
“He didn’t tell me anything.”
Sighing as if she’d disappointed him, Underwood nodded at the doctor.
“What are you doing?” she asked as the doctor approached her.
His grim expression raised gooseflesh on her arms. “We’re going to give you a little something to help you remember.”
Emily couldn’t believe this was happening. She stared at the syringe in Dr. Lionel’s hand, her heart pounding like a drum. The three men stood squarely between her and the door. There was no way she could get by them. Her hand went to the canister of pepper spray that should have been clipped to her belt only to find it gone. Damn. Damn. Damn.
“I want to speak to Warden Carpenter.” She’d known Clay Carpenter since she was a teenager. He’d worked with her father a decade earlier. The two men had been friends. He’d helped Emily get her job at the prison. He would never approve of what these men were about to do.
“I’m