Chapter 120. Rosalie Schibetta’s Investigation
The warden just sits there rubbing his temples, when she yet again reminds him that as the fucking warden, he has some basic responsibilities running the place. The fat fuck. “Look, everything is under control. Now that Medward - as well the mail and visitation rooms - are under strict staff supervision, those animals cannot run this dump anymore into the ground.” Then, he looks up at her and asks that stupid question again. “Rhonda, if you do not mind me asking you, why is this so important to you? I know it’s your life work and yadda yadda, but face it… Look, I think we’re getting a little tunnel vision here.” He pauses, letting out a long, drawn out sigh. “You should really take it easy for once. If there’s any time to take a break from life, this is it.”
“Yeah,” Smith nods beside her. “You should stay away from those men! It’s way too dangerous, especially now! You are getting way too attached to that one guy you always visit! Don’t they teach you not to do this kind of thing in school?”
“What kind of thing?! We are close to a breakthrough with that one, that’s all!”
“Jesus fucking Christ! Rhonda! Look, I know it can be lonely here, and nobody says that you can’t find love in the afterlife, but these people are here for a reason!”
That asshole, talking as if he knows what’s going on… she’s ready to ram a fork down his throat.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think we need the help of someone who’s more… experienced in those matters. And since we don’t have that many women who have direct contact with the prisoners, I’m afraid... “ Smith takes a deep breath. “Carol, would you come here for a second?”
“Now wait one minute-” But before Glynn could finish his sentence, the witch has already seated herself, giving them all an annoyed look.
Why the hell can’t these people just leave her alone and take care of their own business?! How about doing their fucking job for once?
“Well? You want me to explain what’s so important to disturb my lunch?”
Now Rosalie’s heard the stories, but since the psycho nurse can’t kill anyone here and there’s no getting rid of her anyways, everyone likes to pretend she’s harmless. She always had a funny feeling about Carol Grace, though, especially recently. She wonders if it’s just the air cooling whenever she’s around.
Smith clears his throat and takes a deep breath. She hopes he’s regretting calling her, like she regretted that one evening when she was thirteen and tried out that ouija-board with her friend Annaliese and that bitch from the dorm room down the hall, thinking they accidentally summoned Satan. Well, turned out they didn’t, though Dino’s mom showing up at the train station when she visited home that weekend didn’t exactly help her teenaged self back then. All glaring as if it’s Rosalie’s fault Nonna decided to trouble her with pick-up duty!
“I hoped you could give Rhonda here some tips how to handle… affections towards and from the prisoners”
“Affections? With those vermins? What kind of question is that? You squish them like the insects they are!”
“Yeah, but… what was it like to be a nurse here before you felt that way? You know, back then when you started working here?” Smith smiles. Rosie is starting to hate that guy more than she hates Glynn, who is rolling his eyes, sighing loudly. That Smith is more clueless than the warden can dream of ever being.
“I always knew a vermin when I saw one. Who’s worthy to live, breath and take up space and tax-payer’s money and who’s better off gone. That’s why I became a nurse. To make the world a better place”
She sure would like to know how that job application looked. “Thanks a lot, you helped me a great deal.” She smiles, hoping the hag will just leave the damn table already.
No such luck. Instead of her leaving, another annoying addition shows up, taking a seat without even being invited. Lopresti flashes Grace a smile. “What’s up, Carol? Looking awfully moody today!”
“The Mexican slut let one of these vermin into her pants”, she grumbles. What the fuck...
“Carol! How can you say that!” Smith gasps at her, looking indignant.
Rosalie sighs. What was she thinking, bringing this up during lunch hour and have all those idiots within proximity in the first place? It’s her own damn fault. “I’m not Mexican. And I’m not letting anybody in my pants. Now don’t you have some lunch waiting for you?”
“Not anymore!” Lopresti says smugly between bites of leftover fish. Then, he takes a swig from Grace’s thermos. Rosalie cannot remember a day the bastard brought his own lunch. But she remembers too late - her sandwich is already gone, the plastic wrap crumpled up next to Glynns ziploc bag of cheerios that seems to have magically teleported across the table over to Lopresti.
“My cookies!!! Who ate my cookies?!”
Wendy merely raises an eyebrow at Nancy’s ear-shattering wail. “Your cookies? You mean mine, you bitch.”
“They’re mine now. Well, they were.” Lopresti pats his stomach, licking his lips.
“God, can we focus on the important things here? Those lunches aren’t important, damn it! Rhonda, you have to trust us as your seniors in that matter, it’s just too dangerous to enter the prisoner-zones and we can’t let you do that anymore!”
Since when is Smith calling the shots here? Rosalie sighs. To think she ever thought she can trust these idiots to solve anything. Lopresti is reaching for Smith’s apple.
“I agree with him, Rhonda.” Glynn nods. “I don’t want you having contact-”
“Oh stop beating around the bush with it and tell her like it is! It’s high time she act like a licensed professional, not some fucking whore!”
Rosalie has heard enough. And she isn’t about to dignify any of that with a response.
“Yeah, I meant you, slut! What just because you have some Ph.D. you think-”
She slams the door behind her. She can’t listen to this anymore.
Perhaps she can have a more pleasant meal with the family. It’s been awhile after all. She scoffs. Or at least a more filling one.
“Hey, we’re not done here!”
“So wanna bet whom the Whore of Oz is off to see?”
“Len, would you give it a rest? You really aren’t that funny.”
The place could be a bit more soundproof, she notes, pretending not to hear Glynn shouting at her to get back in there. Nor that fuck Lopresti. Especially not that one.
Despite the mess yesterday, she’s sitting at the table again. She can’t afford to cut her staff-contacts off, even if they are pissing the fuck out of her. Especially with the recent developments. Yesterday, she finally found a map in the library - together with that search finding the boiler-room took her at least three hours - and then the damn thing was locked. Now she’s pretty certain the CO’s have keys to every hole here. She thought about it all evening.
She’s gonna get herself one, with or without support.
She left the cupcakes in a strategic position, just right so he has to turn his back on her if he wants to steal them without raising too much attention. She can already see him, scanning the area for edibles. Soon.
He’s getting closer. Good. She lets some of her hair fall forward, obscuring her face, pretending to be busy with the coffee in front of her.
He’s too sure of himself to ever notice the hands slipping into his pockets. She clasps her fingers tightly around the keys before pulling out just in time for him to tuck all the cupcakes and the chocolate bar that was hiding under them away.
She soaks in the victory a bit - watches him go around, snatching some food here and there cluelessly - before leaving. She’ll figure out what’s wrong with the damn heating today - after a little stop in L.
“So I put you into the carseat…” A fit of coughing. “Sadly I drove you to places only once or twice when you were little…” Another. “But nevermind, that’s all changing...It’ll be a long drive to make up for it, and then we have all that time together.” What the hell is the old man rambling about? She halts in her steps to listen to the conversation inside the cell.
“Is Dino there, too?” Petey. He sounds so young and vulnerable - she feels a tugging in her chest. His eyes are closed, his thin fingers latching on to his father’s sleeve. Nino presses a washcloth to his forehead, before he begins coughing again into that blood-stained handkerchief. It’s hard to say who’s in worse shape.
“Sure, but he’s in the other car with Aunt Maria and Uncle Paolo, because seriously, Dino’s a real prick. He’d wipe his boogers all over the place or kick the front seat when he’s too bored and wants attention. The things Maria has told me! Horrible, I tell you.”
Why does this shit matter now? What are they talking about?
“What about Sanchez? And Rosie?”
“Well… that’s a little difficult, you see, Rosie’s grandmother wouldn’t really want her with us I guess… and I wouldn’t either…”
That bastard, what is he telling him?! She’s going to kick that fatass to kingdom come…
“But I guess if we find that car he lived in, we can pick Sanchez up on the way or something. Your mother always wanted more kids, so I guess she wouldn’t mind.”
Has he coughed his brains out or what? None of that makes sense! She’s wasting precious time here. She steps forward.
Petey spots her first. “Rosie gotta get in before Nonna sees!”
“What the fuck are you telling him, old man?” she hisses before Nino can even turn around. There is a long silence - Nino just stares at her for a while, looking more and more upset.
“What the hell are you doing here, sneaking around and listening in on… on other people’s conversations?!”
She rolls her eyes. Conversations, yeah, right. More like Nino sprouting some shit again. “Just thought that you wanted to know that I got the key to the boiler room today and I’ll look at that thing myself.”
But instead of showing some gratitude, he only raises his eyebrows. “Didn’t know you can repair boiler’s now.”
God, she could punch him for that condescending tone. “I can’t - but I have a weird feeling about all of this. Something is fishy, I tell you. What’s with the attitude, anyways? It least I’m doing something.”
She takes a last look at Petey - his big eyes following her movements - and then she leaves. She’ll have plenty of time for that after she got that heating going again.
She passes Grace on her way to the other side of the prison, where the boiler-room is located.
The bitch nurse is rambling the usual shit again. Rosalie has always brushed it off as crazy before. But now that she really thinks about it, if she killed all those patients for so many years without anyone knowing like Enrique said, then she’s not to be underestimated.
The old hag might know more than what she’s letting on - she did spend most of her time among prisoners of various blocks after all - better let her talk, maybe something important will slip. Rosalie wonders if there’s a way she can encourage her...
There, just down those stairs and the-