Free A taint in the blood by Dana Stabenow

out."
     
    "Good for her."
     
    Myra took a deep breath. "Because I'm coming up for parole in seven months."
     
    "Really?"
     
    "You could speak for me at my hearing."
     
    "I could," Kate agreed.
     
    Myra's look of hope faded. "But you won't."
     
    "No."
     
    Myra bared her teeth. "Bitch."
     
    "Backatcha," Kate said.
     
    Myra started to cry. "Why won't you help me?"
     
    "Because your kids come first for me," Kate said, "like they should have with you. Reading to them and playing games with them one or twice a month doesn't make up for the fact that Andy had to learn how to write left-handed because you broke his right hand in so many places that he can't even brush his teeth with it, and that Kay will probably be in therapy for the rest of her life because you sold her for money you used to buy booze and drugs."
     
    "I was a drunk and a junkie back then!" Myra said, her voice rising. "I told you—I don't do that anymore!"
     
    "You don't in this adult day-care center of yours," Kate said. "Doesn't mean you won't when you get out again. Best thing that can happen to your kids is for you to be away from them as long as possible. If I had my druthers it'd be forever."
     
    "Let's move it along, Myra, shall we?" a guard said, coming up behind her.
     
    He took her arm. She yanked free, glared at Kate, and stomped off.
     
    Kate could feel the eyes on her from all over the room. Oh yeah, it was old home week for her here at Hiland Mountain, a regular felons reunion. A few minutes later, the officer returned, Victoria Pilz Bannister Muravieff in tow.
     
    She didn't look anything at all like Kate had imagined she would. For one thing, she didn't look ill, and for another, she didn't look sixty-seven. She was a tall woman with a thick head of gray hair cut bluntly to a determined jawline and parted over her right eye. Her brow was broad, her eyebrows arched, her nose so high-bridged as to be almost hooked, which it probably would be eventually, her mouth full and firm. She was wearing street clothes, a faded pink T-shirt tucked into a pair of button-front Levi's, and tennis shoes with Velcro fasteners.
     
    She moved with a brisk step, her shoulders square, no hint of osteoporosis about her. Her cheeks were pink, her wrinkles confined for the most part to the corners of her eyes and mouth, beneath her chin, and on the backs of her hands. Her eyes were dark blue and direct, fixing Kate with a puzzled stare. "You aren't Caroline.
     
    Kate got up and offered her hand. "No, I'm Kate Shugak."
     
    Victoria took it automatically in a strong, cool grip, one firm pump and release. "I'm sorry. Have we met?"
     
    "No," Kate said.
     
    The older woman looked at the table and then at the floor next to Kate's chair. "Didn't you bring them?"
     
    "Bring what?"
     
    "The GED workbooks," the older woman said impatiently.
     
    "I didn't know I was supposed to," Kate said.
     
    Victoria Pilz Bannister MuraviefF put her hands on her hips and looked down her nose at Kate. "How the devil am I supposed to teach my class without workbooks? Listen, Ms. Shugak, if this is another end run by the university around my program, I have told you people before that I won't—"
     
    "I don't work for the university," Kate said.
     
    Victoria halted. "Then who the hell are you?"
     
    "I told you. Kate Shugak."
     
    Victoria tapped her foot. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Her eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. Any relation to Ekaterina Shugak?"
     
    "My grandmother."
     
    "I see." A brief pause. "I knew her."
     
    "Everyone did," Kate said. There was a sick feeling rising in the pit of her stomach. "Have you talked to your daughter lately?"
     
    All trace of expression wiped itself from Victoria's face. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth settled into a thin line. "What's Charlotte got to do with this?"
     
    "She hired me," Kate said.
     
    Victoria folded her arms. "To do what?"
     
    "To look into your case."
     
    "What case?"
     
    The sick feeling