Sanctuary Read Online Free PDF Page B

to Basal—no reason to. But I’d looked it up a few days earlier and printed out a map when Danny told me he was being transferred. There was no helpful information on the Internet, only a sentence saying that it was an experimental state facility geared toward rehabilitation for three hundred inmates. The prison system in California was stressed beyond capacity, in large part due to the fact that half of the prisoners who served their time came out of prison more jacked up than when they went in. The state had the highest recidivism rate in the country.
    The state aimed to change that and was searching for answers. Basal had gone live three years ago as part of that effort. As far as I was concerned, that much was good news. A prison devoted to rehabilitation had to be better than the overcrowded gangland called Ironwood.
    Then again, that was all I knew about Basal. All the other prisons in the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation had websites that provided at least a peek into their mysterious worlds.
    Not Basal. It was sealed up and locked down like Area 51. Tucked away in the Angeles National Forest south of Wrightwood, off of Lone Pine Canyon Road.
    Images of Nazi concentration camps that experimented on prisoners flashed through my mind. This was America, not Poland, but Basal was also a prison, and the prison system was a world unto itself, hidden from the rest of society. And I have an active imagination.
    The drive from Ironwood to Basal would take only a few hours. Danny had arrived and was probably already processed by now. Why would someone call me if they wanted to hurt Danny? Maybe it was a prank call. Or a ghost from the past come back to haunt Danny on the outside. Danny and me.
    I know about you, Renee.
    That first part of the call ballooned in my head and for a moment I wondered if it was part of a dream. No, I was awake. I might have had something close to OCD, and sure, I was a bit neurotic, but I wasn’t crazy and I wasn’t hallucinating.
    I thumbed in 4-1-1 and paced. When I asked for the number for the Basal Institute of Corrections and Rehabilitation, the operator put me through.
    A warm female voice answered my call. “Basal.”
    “Yes, uh…hi. This is the prison?”
    “The Basal Institute, that is correct. How may I direct your call?”
    “I’m looking for a prisoner who was transferred this—”
    “Hold on.”
    She shuffled me on to the appropriate party. It was a real place with a real voice that didn’t sound like it belonged to a Nazi doctor. That was good, right?
    “Basal.”
    This second voice didn’t sound so warm.
    “Yes, I’m trying to reach an inmate who was transferred to your institution from Ironwood this morning. A Danny Hansen. Can you tell me if—”
    “Visitation is by approval only, every Tuesday.”
    “Well, fine, then I would like to schedule a visit.”
    “I’m sorry, it doesn’t work like that here. Visitation is an earned privilege. Once the member in question has earned visitation rights, you may request a visit, assuming you are approved.”
    “I’ve already been approved.”
    “Not for Basal, you aren’t.”
    The revelation set me back. It had taken me weeks to get approval to visit Danny at Ironwood.
    “Why not?”
    “The regulations at other institutions don’t apply at Basal. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait, like everyone else.”
    “Then I can schedule a call with him.”
    “No, ma’am. Phone calls are also an earned privilege. You have to understand, we’re not like the other prisons.”
    “Then how do I get in touch with him?” I demanded.
    “You don’t get in touch with him. Not until he earns the privilege and you’re approved.”
    “How long does that take?”
    “I can’t make any promises.”
    “How long?” I snapped, aware I was starting to boil over but unable to calm myself.
    “A month or two.” Her tone was now not only flat but unyielding.
    “I’m supposed to wait two full months before