Chapter Fifty-Two
The first months at Coffee Creek Correctional Facility, Oregon’s women’s prison, hadn’t gone too badly.
Rosemarie had to bunk with another inmate, but her cellmate was in for a nonviolent crime, and they were getting along.
The cell wasn’t spacious, but it had a toilet and a desk, and she was adjusting.
The prosecutors had agreed to drop the murder charge in exchange for a plea to manslaughter and the return of the money she and Terrance had stolen. Aaron Jessup thought she’d be out in five years if she was a model prisoner.
The authorities had located most of the offshore accounts, but they had missed a few, and Rosemarie hadn’t volunteered the location of the nest eggs she would tap when she was free.
Even if the cops found the other accounts, Rosemarie wasn’t worried about money.
She was a whiz at working the market. She’d done it before, and she was confident that she could do it again.
Rosemarie had worried that Walt would seek revenge now that he knew that she’d killed Wolf Larson and tried to kill him, but he was miles away in a federal maximum-security prison, and the Disciples were in disarray, so she felt safe.
Rosemarie’s biggest problem was boredom.
She was working in the kitchen, and there wasn’t much mental stimulation from the work or the conversations with her fellow prisoners.
Today, her workday had ended, and she headed back to her cell.
She was reading a book about physics that was very challenging, and she wanted to get back to it before she had to go to the dining hall for dinner.
She entered her cell and started to look at the desk where the book was resting, but something on her bunk caught her eye.
Rosemarie walked to the bed. She saw what was on her bunk, and she started to feel faint.
“Hey, is that a Rubik’s Cube?” asked her cellmate.