She frowned as she shook her head. “Not on my shift.”

“What about the maids? Have they seen him?”

“I haven’t asked.” She got a funny look on her face. “Why are you so interested in this guy? Wallace will be back next week, if that helps. He reserved a room for Tuesday.”

This was news, too. Wallace wouldn’t return so soon unless he had important business. And whatever it was, Peyton wouldn’t talk about it. She’d even lied to cover it up.

This wasn’t about that scumbag pedophile he’d bashed in the head. It was bigger. A lot bigger.

As soon as she got home, Peyton threw her keys on the counter without bothering to see where they landed, pulled her cell phone from her purse and plopped onto the couch.

Allowing Virgil to use her proved she was in over her head. Where was her self-respect? She’d never had an illicit relationship with anyone before, hadn’t even slept with the C.O. she’d briefly dated after he’d given his notice. But she couldn’t seem to maintain any distance when it came to Virgil and that scared her. She had to change that, do whatever was necessary to get a grip on her behavior. And the only way she figured she’d be successful was to confess.

She needed to tell the truth, anyway. She couldn’t be hypocritical enough to hide such a secret while acting as if she’d done nothing wrong. A liar wasn’t the kind of person she aspired to be.

But would opening her mouth mean the loss of her job?

Possibly. The CDCR could call it malfeasance of office and put her on probation. They could transfer her somewhere else, maybe demote her. They could even dismiss her. It depended on how flagrantly, in their opinion, her actions had crossed the line. Virgil wasn’t on the state’s payroll. She had that going for her. He wasn’t a ward of the state, either. At least, not yet. Even after he went in, he wouldn’t be exactly like the other inmates because he’d be there voluntarily.

He fell into a gray area; and the gray aspects of the situation were what had gotten her in trouble. Maybe they’d save her, too. But her lack of professionalism had complicated an investigation on which the CDCR, even the governor, had pinned high hopes. She’d been told that she and Virgil would be working together—yet she’d slept with him.

That wasn’t right.

So who should she tell?

Determined to recover some dignity, she blinked rapidly to avoid the tears that threatened and scrolled through her electronic address book until she reached the warden’s number. Based on the chain of command, she should tell him. But it was almost midnight. She couldn’t disturb him this late.

Afraid she’d lose her nerve or attempt to justify her behavior if she waited, she thought about telling Rick instead. She was pretty sure he’d be awake. Last she heard from him, the marshal had arrived at the safe house to guard Laurel and he was boarding a plane to Sacramento. He’d said it was a direct flight, so he should’ve landed by now—or would be landing any minute.

“I really don’t want to do this,” she moaned. Rick wouldn’t be happy to hear she’d undermined their chances of success. But he was younger than the warden, more flexible about this type of thing, and she had a feeling he’d made his share of mistakes. Maybe that would inspire him to be at least a little understanding.

Her finger shook as it hovered over the keypad, but she forced herself to place the call and ignored the jittery feeling that came over her once the phone began to ring. That feeling only grew more intense when her call transferred to voice mail, because it meant she had to stew a bit longer.

Thirty minutes later, she was still stalking her living room, chewing her nails, when Rick finally returned her call.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Did you speak with Skinner?”

“Where are you?”

“Walking to my car. Why?”

“Just curious.” She didn’t want him to be with anyone else when she told him this news.

“Have you heard from Skinner or not?” he asked again.

Slumping onto the couch, she groped for the words to tell him what she needed to say. “I did.”

“And?”

“He’s…fine.”

“He’s still going through with it?”

“Definitely.”

Wallace sighed loudly enough for her to hear. “Good. I was afraid we were in a bit of a mess.”

“Mess” was the perfect segue. Taking hold of Virgil’s medallion, which hung around her neck, she gathered her nerve and confronted her guilt. “There’s just one…problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m afraid I have…something to tell you. Something you won’t like.”

“About…?”

A tear escaped. She wasn’t used to being in this position, had always been so cautious to avoid censure. Terrified that she’d lose everything she’d worked so hard for, she clutched the medallion more tightly. She had only herself to blame…. “Virgil Skinner.”

“You said he was fine.”

“He is, but…I’ve had an inappropriate relationship with him,” she blurted out. Stunned silence.

“Rick?” she ventured.

“Does inappropriate mean what I think it means?” he asked.

Leaping to her feet, she began to pace. She considered trying to explain how deeply Virgil affected her, but she refused to offer excuses, especially that one. She didn’t want to acknowledge that he held any power over her. Wallace wouldn’t care to hear it, anyway, and probably wouldn’t understand the compelling nature of what she felt for Virgil. She didn’t even understand it. “Yes.”

“You slept with him?”

Her stomach muscles cramped. “Yes.” More than once. “Why? My God, you’re so uptight about rules and doing what’s right, I never dreamed you’d do something like this. You barely met him!”

She flinched. “I know.”

He covered the phone and hollered, “Mind your own business,” and she imagined the shock of those who must’ve overheard his part of the conversation. She almost asked him to wait until he was in his car before they finished discussing this, but he was already railing at her, as if he didn’t care whether or not he made a spectacle of himself. “I can’t believe this! Maybe if you were someone else I could see it. Your friend Michelle is so hungry for a good screw she nearly salivates when she meets a prospective—”

“Leave Michelle out of this,” Peyton broke in. “She’s had it rough the past year.”

He continued as though she hadn’t interrupted. “But not you. Nothing shakes you.”

“Unlike Michelle, I haven’t just been through a painful divorce.”

It didn’t seem to matter what she said. “While we were at the library, you and Skinner didn’t even seem to like each other.”

She fingered Virgil’s medallion again, felt the heat of it. “I’m sorry.”

The tenor of his voice changed, suddenly dropped. “He didn’t force you, did he?”

She wondered if he’d be willing to forgo this investigation if she answered in the affirmative but she wasn’t going to make Virgil look bad just to test Rick. “No.”

“Not at all?”

“Not at all.”

The protracted silence became almost unbearable. “I haven’t told the warden yet,” she said. “I didn’t want to wake him. But…I’ll talk to him in the morning.”

“No, you won’t.”

She stopped pacing. “What?”

“He doesn’t even know Skinner’s—Bennett’s—an ex-con. And keeping it from him was your idea, remember?”

“It was your idea first. You lied to all of us.”

“But I was willing to bring Fischer in on the secret once you found out.”

“I realize that. It’s not too late. Maybe it’s time for full disclosure.”

“No. Don’t tell Fischer or anyone else anything, do you understand?”

“I don’t think so. I’m not proud of what I’ve done but I feel I should accept the consequences.”

“Consequences…” He laughed bitterly. “Let me tell you what the consequences will be. They’ll begin with several uncomfortable meetings where you’ll have to explain your conduct in detail.”