AN HOUR LATER, MEL sat at her desk, her head in her hands when her desk phone rang. She frowned at it and picked it up.
“Sheriff Crane.”
“Oh good, you’re there. I wasn’t sure anyone would be there on a Saturday.”
“Who’s calling please?”
“Oh, sorry. It’s Warden Jeffers with the Tennessee Prison for Women.”
“You’re working overtime too, Warden.”
“Yes, well, prisons never close.”
“Agreed. I assume this is about Sheila Ford?”
“Correct. We’ve been working on her transfer and it’s almost done.”
Mel jerked backwards slightly in her chair. “Transfer where?”
“To you, of course.”
Of course. “I’ve heard nothing since yesterday afternoon about any of this and what I do know came to me unofficially by way of Ford’s daughter, Jennifer Coventry. Have you spoken with the Governor’s office here?
