The Brethren Read Online Free PDF Page B

and he had mail, some really good letters. He closed the door and removed an envelope from a file. He waved it for Beech and Yarber to see. “It’s yellow,” he said. “Ain’t that sweet? It’s for Ricky.”
    “Who’s it from?” Yarber asked.
    “Curtis from Dallas.”
    “The banker?” Beech asked excitedly.
    “No, Curtis owns the jewelry stores. Listen.” Spicer unfolded the letter, also on soft yellow stationery. He smiled and cleared his throat and began to read: ‘Dear Ricky: Your letter of January eighth made me cry. I read it three times before I put it down. You poor boy. Why are they keeping you there?’ ”
    “Where is he?” asked Yarber.
    “Ricky’s locked down in a fancy drug rehab unit his rich uncle is paying for. He’s been in for a year, is clean and fully rehabbed, but the terrible people who run the place won’t release him until April because they’ve been collecting twenty thousand dollars a month from his rich uncle, who just wants him locked away and won’t send any spending money. Do you remember any of this?”
    “Now I do.”
    “You helped with the fiction. May I proceed?”
    “Please do.”
    Spicer continued reading: “ ‘I’m tempted to fly down there and confront those evil people myself. And your uncle, what a loser! Rich people like him think they can just send money and not get involved.As I told you, my father was quite wealthy, and he was the most miserable person I’ve ever known. Sure he bought me things—objects that were temporary and meant nothing when they were gone. But he never had time for me. He was a sick man, just like your uncle. I’ve enclosed a check for a thousand dollars if you need anything from the commissary.
    “ ‘Ricky, I can’t wait to see you in April. I’ve already told my wife that there is an international diamond show in Orlando that month, and she has no interest in going with me.’ ”
    “April?” asked Beech.
    “Yep. Ricky is certain he will be released in April.”
    “Ain’t that sweet,” Yarber said with a smile. “And Curtis has a wife and kids?”
    “Curtis is fifty-eight, three adult children, two grandchildren.”
    “Where’s the check?” asked Beech.
    Spicer flipped the sheets of stationery and went to page two. “ ‘We have to make certain you can meet me in Orlando,’ ” he read. “ ‘Are you sure you’ll finally be released in April? Please tell me you will. I think about you every hour. I keep your photo hidden in my desk drawer, and when I look into your eyes I know that we should be together.’ ”
    “Sick, sick, sick,” Beech said, still smiling. “And he’s from Texas.”
    “I’m sure there are a lot of sweet boys in Texas,” Yarber said.
    “And none in California?”
    “The rest of it is just mush,” Spicer said, scanning quickly. There would be plenty of time to read it later.He held up the $1,000 check for his colleagues to see. In due course, it would be smuggled out to their attorney and he would deposit it in their hidden account.
    “When are we gonna bust him?” Yarber asked.
    “Let’s swap a few more letters. Ricky needs to share some more misery.”
    “Maybe one of the guards could beat him up, or something like that,” Beech said.
    “They don’t have guards,” replied Spicer. “It’s a designer rehab clinic, remember? They have counselors.”
    “But it’s a lockdown facility, right? That means gates and fences, so surely there’s a guard or two around. What if Ricky got attacked in the shower or the locker room by some goon who wanted his body?”
    “It can’t be a sexual attack,” Yarber said. “That might scare Curtis. He might think Ricky caught a disease or something.”
    And so the fiction went for a few minutes as they created more misery for poor Ricky. His picture had been lifted from the bulletin board of a fellow inmate, copied at a quick print by their lawyer, and had now been sent to more than a dozen pen pals across North America. The photo was