I also passed by two exam rooms. In one, Dr. Mulid Akbar, PCI’s senior health officer and one of the chapel’s advisors on the Muslim religion, was examining the knee of one of the inmates, who seemed to be in a great deal of pain.

At the end of the hallway and to the left, I entered the officers’ station for the infirmary. There I found to both my surprise and delight the nurse who had helped during the incident in the sally port the previous day. She was seated on the officer’s desk, swinging her legs back and forth and chewing gum while conversing playfully with an officer named Straub.

She smiled when she saw me.

I smiled back.

“Hey, Chaplain,” she said. “Jordan, isn’t it?”

“John, please, but yes. How’re you?”

“Better than the last time I saw you,” she said. “How are you?”

I nodded. “The same.”

“That was . . . brutal. I . . . I didn’t sleep a wink last night. You?”

“No, but I usually don’t.”

“By the way, my name is Sandra, but everyone calls me Sandy. Sandy Strickland. I don’t think we’ve met yet. Not really.”

“John Jordan,” I said. “Nice to meet you Sandy.”

“You too—I can’t call you John. Will have to be Chaplain.”

“Please call me John.”

“I’ll try, but no promises.”

“Never seen you here during the day before and now two days in a row,” I said. “You been transferred to day shift?”

“Oh, no. I’m too much of a night owl. I wouldn’t be much use around here most mornings. Getting ready for an ACA inspection. Tryin’ to get everything ready. Plus with what happened yesterday . . . here to help if I’m needed.”

“We keep trying to get her to join us on day shift,” Officer Straub said, never taking his eyes off her.

Ignoring his obvious flirtations, she said, “I keep thinkin’ about what happened yesterday . . . It was just so . . . horrible. So much blood . . . everywhere. It really got to me. Think I’m gonna step outside a minute for some fresh air. You wanna join me, Chaplain?”

“Sure.”

The fresh air was far too hot and humid to be refreshing, but it did seem to do Sandy some good. Of course it could’ve been the super slim Capri cigarette she was inhaling.

We were standing at the back right corner of the medical building. It was a popular designated smoking area, but for now we had it all to ourselves.

“You okay?” I asked.

She nodded. “Mostly needed a break from Straub.”

“Did you know him well?” I asked.

She looked confused. “Who? Straub?”

“Johnson.”

“Oh,” she said, shrugging. “Some. About as well as you can know any of the inmates, I guess.”

“He in the infirmary a lot?”

“More than most, but . . . not a ton.”

“Anything you can tell me about him that might help me understand what happened?”