It may seem like the hardest people in the world to trust are those that make a living by detracting from the social order of things. Perhaps it goes with the old age that claims: Fool me once it’s your fault, but fool me twice and it’s my fault. Todd failed to find any outward flaw with Cliff and took his advances for what they appeared, genuine friendship.
“I am not the mood to go into it in great detail right now,” Cliff said, though clenched teeth, as if he were battling a case of gout. “To show you I mean business, I left a flask underneath the pillow in your cell. Tonight, enjoy a drink on me. I would have brought it out here and given it to you in person, but it is quite difficult to conceal such an item when you don’t have any pockets.”
Todd had not given the appropriate amount of thought to how Cliff was able to access his private cell, or how he had managed to get the flask there so quickly. Instead, his thoughts were focused on the uniform each of the men wore. It was no doubt an intended design to make the prison uniform similar to hospital scrubs. The clothing, while loose, did not give the inmates opportunity to conceal much of anything, most of the concern being a shiv or other type of crafted weapon.
“Then I will leave you be,” Todd muttered. “Shall we meet at the same place next time we are out in the yard?”
To be continued…