“You’re my friend, John. Ike was my friend, but he’s not my friend anymore. He’s dead. He’s like on a different plane now.”

“Tell me about Ike?” I asked.

“He was . . . my friend.”

“I think we’ve established that. Anything else you can add?”

“He was a good friend. A real sweetheart. I wish they didn’t kill him.”

“Who?”

“That pig fucker Skipper. He’s . . .”

“He’s what?” I asked.

“Head pig fucker. Runs this place. He’s the skipper of this ship.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

“Does what he wants to, man. Uses . . . abuses . . . Nobody can stop him. Stone’s scared of him . . . My name should be Stoned.”

“How about Molly? Does Skipper use or abuse her?”

At that his face clouded over and he began to cry. First small tears, followed hard on by bigger and bigger ones. “Fat pig fucker son of a bitch. Gonna kill him.”

He leaned his head against the steel door and cried some more. In a few minutes, he was snoring.

I walked back down the hallway toward the desk to speak to the officer seated there. On my way by Jacobson’s cell, I looked in. He was completely naked, standing in the center of the cell with a full erection.

When he saw me, he ran to the door and began to shout, “I’M THE DEVIL’S SON. I’M THE DEVIL’S SON.”

“I’m sure he’s real proud,” I said, continuing to walk.

“Got a question for you,” I said to the officer when I reached his desk.

“Shoot,” he said.

“Is he on medication?”

“Jacobson, yeah. Sleeping pills. But between you and me, he don’t take nearly enough of ’em. Wish he’d sleep all the time.”

“I meant Anthony Thomas,” I said. “He’s high as hell.”

“Thomas?” He shrugged. “Beats me. Better ask the nurse.”

“Which one?” I said, finding it odd he knew Jacobson was on sleeping pills and didn’t know what was making Anthony Thomas float around his cell.

“Any of them can tell you, I’m sure, but he sees Anderson the most, I think.”

“Thank you,” I said, and walked out.

I was walking back toward the chapel when I saw her.

Well, not her, but her truck. It was headed toward the warehouse. And in an instant, so was I.

When I reached the warehouse the truck was still there, backed up to the loading dock, its flashers blinking.

I walked up the ramp and entered the cargo bay.

When I stepped inside, I could see her and the warehouse supervisor in his office. I walked over as nonchalantly as I could, but it probably resembled running.

“Hello, Chaplain, what brings you out here?” Rick Spawn said when I stepped into the doorway of his office.

Before I could answer, I glanced in her direction.

“Hey there Chaplain JJ,” she said with a big smile.

“Hey,” I said.