Hell's Vengeance: Hell's Vengeance Series Book 3

Chapter 3: In the Web

Sandoval knocked loudly on the door to Jocelyn Price’s office.

“Jocelyn Price?” she said loudly.

“One moment,” came a muffled reply from within. There was a quiet sound of shuffling, and then the door opened. A woman who looked like she did not belong in a residential facility full of felons opened the door and smiled broadly.

Jocelyn Price was at least five inches shorter than Sandoval, and her white hair was pulled back in a tight bun. She looked extremely frail, but her eyes were bright, her smile warm, and she had a curious vigor about the way she held herself.

“Oh, my. You must be with the police. Don’t see a lot of women in here,” Price said, grinning from ear to ear. She looked from Sandoval to Jacinta, and her smile brightened.

“Detectives Perez and Sandoval,” Jacinta said. “We’re here to ask you some questions about—”

“About Benjamin Aubrey, of course. Please, come in,” she said, holding her door open.

Jacinta and Sandoval entered the small office, which was accented with wooden furniture, houseplants, and little knick-knacks on every shelf. There were books, a small sofa, and a pair of chairs in front of what looked like an antique desk.

The elderly woman gestured toward the chairs in front of her desk as she sat across from them.

“Mr. Sherman tells us you worked with Mr. Aubrey,” Sandoval said.

Price nodded. “Yes, I’d spent a good deal of time with him as a counselor here. We spoke a few times per week.”

“You were friendly, then?” Sandoval continued.

“As friendly as I am with everyone here.”

“What kind of counseling do you do with the residents?”

“Oh,” Price said, smiling and leaning back slightly in her chair. “You need to be a jack of all trades here. It can be career counseling one day, dealing with home and family another. Sometimes, it will be about transitional issues, even drug counseling.”

“What was the nature of your work with Mr. Aubrey?”

“We had a group counseling session twice per week, focused on career and transition. Dealing with ‘getting back to the real world,’ as they say. And we would also talk one-on-one about his plans for the future, his past; whatever he felt like, really. Such a shame what happened to him.”

“Did he ever give you the impression he was suicidal?” Jacinta asked.

Price smiled at her, then sighed. “Recently, he had been having a tough time with things. He had a growing anxiety over his return to society, a fear that he wouldn’t be able to adapt and straighten his life out as he’d wanted. I had been trying to encourage him, but it was clearly worse than I realized.”

“Had there been any indication of depression?” Jacinta asked.

“Well, I’m not a clinician, but yes, I feel that’s accurate. I thought maybe I could help keep him focused, but I caught him dealing drugs last night, and I knew things were getting bad. But he promised the two of us could talk today, and I thought we’d have time to work on it.”

“What kind of drugs?” Sandoval asked.

“Oh, I can’t be sure, but it was clearly something.”

“Did you report him?” Jacinta inquired.

The elderly woman’s smile was as bright as ever and was becoming oddly unnerving. “I haven’t. Because I believe in second chances. That’s why I work here, after all. I wanted to believe I could get through to Benjamin.”

“You let a convicted drug dealer off the hook for drug possession inside a halfway house?” Sandoval was unable to hide her confusion.

“I know—it sounds awful when you say it like that.”

“Is there another way to say it?”

“Detective, I am here to help these men. I believe there is good in everyone, and I was hoping to find that and nurture it.”

“But you do need to work within the confines of the justice system, Ms. Price.”

“Missus,” the older woman corrected. “And that’s what I did. And I think it’s what killed Benjamin,” she added, frowning for the first time, and lowering her eyes as she shook her head.