Seventeen
Phil stared at Clarence.
The man was formidable. Even though he was old—eighty something—when he came in, he stood almost a foot taller than the guards and even though he was fully shackled, he still walked upright and strong.
Hadn’t the report said he’d been shot?
But here he was. His white hair was long and he had a full beard. He looked better than when he’d been in prison before.
Phil had an inside track even before that. Working as a dietary assistant in the prison kitchen gave him access to the needs of staff but also the inmates. He’d been around food and grocery stores all his life. When he’d been hired at the prison, he realized he would fit in with the community of inmates, although he’d never served time. And just because he’d never served time didn’t mean he didn
