Intake stuff the sooner sheâd be Exhausted. She took off her Armani suit and the matching silk blouse, wincing as she hung them on the pegs. When she had removed her slacks she hung them with the jacket, only to see both pieces fall onto the floor. She stooped, picked up the clothes, and tried again. And again. The peg gave way and the clothes fell in a heap. With a shiver, Jennifer realized that the pegs were not an April Foolâs joke â they were designed to swivel under weight so that no one could hang herself from them.
Not likely, Jennifer thought with a toss of her head. She hung each piece of her outfit on its own peg, then put on the nasty orange jumpsuit. The fabric was harsh against her body â probably Tercel or Herculon or something worse. And it was enormous â probably a âone size fits allâ kind of thing. She didnât want to have to meet the Warden like this. There wasnât a mirror in the room, but Jennifer did the best she could. For years she had managed to make even the drabbest Catholic school uniform look a little stylish. She slipped the alligator belt from her slacks and cinched it around her waist. After just a few tucks and alittle flouncing, Jennifer rang the buzzer. She kept the phone in her bra. She was ready to meet the warden.
When Camry returned, Morticia was with him. Jennifer couldnât help but notice that her jumpsuit fit as though it had been made to measure. And Morticia was giving Jennifer a good looking-over, too. They both stood there, glaring at each other as only two women who have come to the party wearing the same dress can. When Morticia caught sight of Jenniferâs belt, she covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. âYou ready for your close-up, Miss DeMille?â she asked. Jennifer didnât say a word.
âCut the crap, Cher,â Camry said firmly to the woman. âJust bag her personal effects. And Miss Spencer,â he turned to Jennifer, âplease take off the belt. Itâs against regulations.â
âHeâs afraid youâre going to hang yourself,â Morticia smirked, further betraying her hillbilly origins with her accent. âAlso the brassiere and underpants if you have them.â
âWhat?â Jennifer asked.
âIâll have to pat you down,â Morticia said. âThen Ms Cranstonâs goinâ to give you an internal.â
Jennifer groaned and did what Roger Camry told her to do, but as she removed the belt she noticed that Morticia had picked up her shoes and was stroking one of them as if it were the Holy Grail. Jennifer guessed that sheâd probably never seen a Louboutin before in her poor trash life. Then she turned her back and tried to carefully remove her bra without dropping the cell phone. Just as she was about to secret the phone into the sleeve of her jumpsuit she felt someone standing beside her.
âWhat is this?â Morticia asked as she grabbed the phone and held it up in the air for the officer to see.
âWhereâd you get that?â Camry asked. âThatâs what contraband is, Spencer, and it can get you into big trouble here at Jennings. Lucky for you it was found now and not later.â He tilted his head toward the personal effects bag and Morticia went over and slid the phone into the bag.
The white-coated intake officer returned and asked, âAre we about ready to get on with this?â
âMiss Spencer is ready,â Officer Camry said, and he took hold of Jenniferâs elbow. As he steered her toward the door, Jennifer saw that Cher was slipping one of the shoes onto her foot.
âHey!â Jennifer protested. But Cher quickly pulled the shoe off and put it back on the counter before anyone could catch her.
Camry turned to look at Cher. She met his glare with the blandest look on her face. âGet busy with that, Cher,â he said. âCatalogue every piece of clothing and put it all