Truth

  “Are you all right, ma’am?” Clay asked as he removed the cellphone from his pocket.

  “Yes, please get me home.”

  He spoke softly into his phone as he eased the car back onto the road. When she entered the mansion she went quietly to their suite and collapsed on the large bed. Would this ever end? Would her baby ever be safe? She’d tried to call Tony. Her mind spun with what-ifs as his phone went straight to voicemail. What time was it in Europe? She couldn’t think.

  Claire was almost asleep when the knock came on the suite door. With puffy eyes and an aching head, she managed, “Come in.”

  Catherine entered, “I just heard what happened. Are you all right? Should we call your doctor?”

  “I’m fine,” though the anguish in her voice revealed otherwise.

  Catherine approached the bed. “Can I help?”

  “I don’t think anyone can help. I’ve tried to reach Tony, but I keep getting his voicemail.” Claire shook her head. “It feels the same -- although I know it’s different.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Claire sat up. “I know I have my phone and access to friends and internet, but I feel trapped.”

  Catherine held her hand, “You aren’t. You see the difference from before, don’t you?”

  Claire nodded, “I do. This time, it isn’t Tony -- it’s this person. Who would want to hurt me or our child? I don’t understand. I’m afraid it will never end.” When Catherine failed to offer Claire the reassurance she sought, Claire’s tears resumed. She buried her face in the soft plush pillows. Catherine gently rubbed her back until Claire’s tears subsided and sleep overtook her.

  Later that evening Catherine personally delivered Claire’s meal to her suite. When Claire saw Catherine’s return, she couldn’t hide her surprise, “Catherine, I hadn’t planned on eating in here tonight. Outside would be nice.” The cooler late summer evenings combined with the red and golden leaves made the back patio very enjoyable. Although she was nestled on the leather sofa with her reader, the tepid breeze from the open French doors beckoned Claire outside.

  Without acknowledging Claire’s words, Catherine pushed the cart to the side of the small dining table and silently began placing dishes upon the surface. When she’d finished there were two place settings. She turned solemnly toward Claire and said, “I think it’s time we talk. As you probably know, there are no cameras in here. This is the best place.”

  Immediately noticing the change in Catherine’s demeanor, Claire nodded. Curiosity overpowered her thoughts. Claire needed to know what Catherine wanted to say. Their discussion took them late into the night.

  How long had she sought the truth about Tony’s promise to Nathaniel? Now with all her might she wished for ignorance.

  Tony’s hesitance and Catherine’s reluctance at disclosing the full truth was easily understood. As the evening progressed, Claire wondered how Catherine knew so much. Of course, she’d been within the walls of the Rawlings and Rawls’ homes for a very long time, and there wasn’t much which occurred within those walls that Catherine didn’t know.

  With all of Claire’s heart she wanted to call Tony and verify the story she’d just heard. But as Catherine explained, if she called Tony and opted for the escape Catherine offered, she risked too much. The New York Bar Association recently agreed to revisit John’s case. John still wasn’t speaking to Claire, but Emily was, a little. And then there were Amber and Harry. After what happened to Simon years ago, a part of Claire feared for Harry ever since she confessed their brief relationship. Tony had stayed true to his word. Her friends and family were safe; however, if he thought she left him of her own accord, he would no longer be bound by his promise.

  Catherine was right. It had to look like this unknown perpetrator took her. It was the only way to keep everyone she loved safe.

  Although, her heart told her to stop and trust the man she knew she loved, her mind replayed the words Catherine shared, “Anton promised to keep Nathaniel’s vow -- Everyone associated with Nathaniel’s downfall will pay ... their children, their children’s children, and children’s children’s children...”

  How could she stay? Even if she’d already paid her due, Claire couldn’t allow her child to pay.

  The temperature of her and Tony’s suite dropped as Catherine presented her final and most persuasive argument. Catherine stood from the table, disappeared into the closet, and returned with Claire’s missing laptop. When Claire saw it she thought she’d be ill. “I thought my laptop was missing?” Claire asked as dread filled her chest.

  “I believe the final word was,” Catherine set the laptop on the table in front of Claire, “the police weren’t able to locate your laptop.”

  Semantics, Claire thought. “When was it found?”

  “From what I understand, it was before you regained consciousness after Patrick Chester’s attack.”

  “I don’t understand...” Claire looked into Catherine’s gray eyes hoping for an answer capable of quelling the dread growing within her. “That missing laptop is why I moved back here.”

  Catherine closed her eyes and nodded, “Anton knew if you felt threatened you’d be more likely to move.”

  Claire tried desperately to comprehend Catherine’s words while her new world crashed around her. “What about the packages?”

  “Those are real.” Claire heard the emotion in Catherine’s voice, “At least I think they are.”

  By the time Catherine left the suite, the tepid air had become cold. Walking to the French doors, Claire stepped onto the private patio and looked up at the velvety sky ladened with millions of stars. Struggling with her decision, the cool autumn air cleared Claire’s mind and her thoughts moved to her future. In and out, inhale and exhale. Her future was her baby’s future. Claire knew she needed to make her child’s safety her first priority. Feeling the calming effects of Iowa’s tranquility she contemplated her decision. Tony wasn’t due back to Iowa for four more days. If she followed through on Catherine’s plan, by the time he returned she’d be long gone and no one would suspect him.

  The stars blurred as she thought about the dark chocolate eyes she’d never see again. Her heart ached. Nevertheless, her child’s safety was paramount in her mind. Suddenly, Claire prayed, not for the green-eyed daughter Tony sought, but for a dark-eyed son...

  *****

  Sophia felt she was getting better and better at timing her personal events around Derek’s travel. While he was on his second trip to the orient, she executed a very successful art exhibit at her Provincetown studio. Although she often exhibited at the Palo Alto studio, since Mr. George was called away and the new curator was in place, she wasn’t as comfortable there. It was all right while she was in Santa Clara. But more than anything, she relished her time on the East coast.

  Her recently found success and artificially high sales prices out West increased her notoriety throughout the East coast art community. This translated into more guests and investors interested in her three day gallery exhibit.

  As she settled into their cottage on the cape, Sophia poured herself a glass of wine and waited for the familiar ringing of her laptop. Derek’s Skype call was due any minute. Although the time difference made communication difficult, they’d worked out a manageable schedule. Derek’s new assistant was both efficient and experienced with business travel. His suggestions aided in making their separation easier. Sophia never heard what happened to Danni. The last thing Derek said was that she was transferred to another office under the Rawlings Industries umbrella. Personally, Sophia could care less. She was just glad the woman wasn’t around her husband anymore.

  The ringing of her laptop brought Sophia’s focus to the screen. After a moment or two of circles turning, she saw her husband’s soft brown eyes shining from the other side of the world. “Hey, Beautiful, how did day three of your exhibit go?”

  “It went very well.”

  “Do you ever wish you’d taken that offer for the traveling
exhibit?”

  “Are you kidding?” Sophia lifted her glass of wine and toasted her husband’s image. “This is too much work. I’d rather spend my time painting and enjoying time with you.”

  Derek’s smile filled the monitor. “I like that, too!”

  “Hey, I sold three pieces to Jackson Wilson.”

  “Are you sure he isn’t your secret mystery buyer?”

  “No, I’m not sure. But that would be silly. I’ve never seen the mystery guy and Jackson is at every showing I have east of the Mississippi.”

  “Three pieces -- impressive. Did you get the same price as the ones last spring in Palo Alto?”

  “No, but thanks to those, my price has definitely gone up.”

  “Babe, I think I’m going to tell Shedis-tics to forget future travel, I’m going to be a kept man.”

  Sophia giggled. “I’m not sure I’d go that far, but I could come up with a few things to keep you busy.”

  “Have I ever told you how much I love to hear your laugh, even when your smile has that nice red wine glow?”

  Sophia quickly ran her tongue over her teeth. “You’re awful. Maybe the wine is adding to my humor -- plus exhaustion; it’s been three long days!”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you.”

  “Me too. But I like staying busy while you’re gone.”

  When they finally disconnected their call, Sophia climbed into bed and allowed her thoughts to center on the man on the other side of the world. Her silly red wine smile stayed until dreams took her to another place.

  We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience

  in which we really stop to look fear in the face...

  we must do that which we think we cannot.

  - Eleanor Roosevelt

  Chapter 56

  Predawn murkiness weighed heavily on Claire’s tired eyelids. Blinking back the threatening gloom, she gazed into the rearview mirror. Behind her the eastern sky filled with reds and oranges from the rising sun. She feigned optimism and promised herself: it is a new day.

  The text message on the disposable phone, one resembling her old work phone, instructed her to pull over on I 80, at mile marker 145. With each mile she drove toward Des Moines, the mile markers decreased while her anxiety proportionately increased.

  The phone in her hand and the folder of information on the passenger’s seat were the extent of preparation she’d received for her escape. Everything happened so fast Claire hadn’t even had a chance to look through the material. After she reentered the house from the patio, her new phone and the folder of information were waiting on the small dining table within the suite. Part of her wondered how Catherine had been able to supply her with so much support so fast. After all, Claire’s decision to leave the estate was only minutes old. While light overtook the sky and she neared her designated mile marker, multiple questions swirled through Claire’s mind. She tried desperately to push away the uneasiness.

  She cranked the radio and air conditioning, plummeting the car’s internal temperature while simultaneously increasing the interior volume. Curiosity was powerful but not as powerful as sleepiness. She needed her eyes to remain open.

  In the distance, waiting at her designated mile marker, Claire saw a dark gray SUV. Suddenly, her need for rest evaporated. The SUV grew as she approached. Of all the questions swirling through her mind, the one that came pressing to the forefront -- the one that screamed in her head and echoed throughout her consciousness was... How can I put my life and my child’s life in the hands of this unknown person?

  As if on cue, the darkness gave way and rays of sunshine infiltrated the windshield. Prisms of color and points of radiance flickered throughout the interior of the freezing cold BMW as beams hit the large diamond on Claire’s trembling left hand. She’d only recently agreed to wear the ring, and now she was leaving her fiancé. It was more than Claire could fathom.

  If she turned around and talked to Tony, could she explain Catherine’s stories, and would Tony understand her fright? Could things be all right?

  Berating her indecisiveness and battling a combination of sleepiness and fright, Claire felt as if wavering would prevail. It wasn’t until she slowed, passed the SUV, and saw the sole occupant of the gray utility vehicle that she was able to see freedom from the unknown terror and promised vendetta which threatened her and her child’s life. Claire recognized the white hair immediately. She swiftly pulled the BMW over to the shoulder of the highway, feeling the vibration of the uneven surface. Slowly, she backed along the gravel until the trunk of her sedan rested only a few feet from Phillip Roach’s bumper.

  Catherine had connected her with the perfect person to help her escape. This realization reinforced Claire’s steely determination. Stiffening her spine, she placed the car in park, grabbed the folder of information, the disposable cellphone, turned off the BMW, laid the key on the driver’s seat, locked and shut the car’s door.

  A line of semi-trucks passed, blowing Claire’s hair and exposing her determined expression. She made her way toward Phil’s SUV. Over the rush of traffic she heard the click of the unlocking doors. Claire opened the passenger door and climbed into the seat beside her old bodyguard.

  She was the first to speak, “I thought you worked for Tony.”

  “I did. How do you think Ms. London found my name?”

  Claire raised her eyebrows.

  “He hasn’t needed me since you moved to Iowa.”

  “How do I know you won’t tell him where I am?”

  “Because, I work for money. According to Ms. London, once I get you to Geneva, you will pay me more to keep quiet. Secrets are my specialty.”

  “And you can do this?” Claire asked as she felt the SUV ease back onto I 80.

  “Oh, Ms. Nichols, my talents were wasted as your babysitter. I’m very capable.”

  Claire looked at the man to her left. “Don’t you think you should call me Claire?”

  He smiled, “Actually, no. You have new documents. Claire Nichols is gone.”

  He handed her a stack of passports. Each folder contained the international document and a corresponding state issued driver’s license, each from different states. The documents and licenses held digitally enhanced pictures. They were all her, but not; in some she was blonde, some red headed, and others her hair was darker than normal – almost black. Upon further scrutinization she read her eye color also varied. “I understand how my hair can change, but how can my eye’s change?”

  Phil pointed to the back seat. Claire picked up a small cosmetic case. Inside were multiple pairs of colored contact lenses. He took the next exit and turned around, heading the SUV east toward the rising sun. Claire reached into her purse for her sunglasses.

  “We’ll need to get rid of your purse and the clothes you’re wearing.” He noticed the large stone on her left hand. “And that -- isn’t that the same ring you sold?”

  She fought the tears that suddenly filled her eyes and nodded.

  “Can you do this?” Phil asked.

  She swallowed. “I don’t have a choice. Where are we going? Are you taking me back to Iowa City?” There was a hint of optimism in her voice.

  “Cincinnati. You’re flying from Cincinnati to Florence later this afternoon.” He turned toward her. And although her gaze was out the side window, Phil could see her trembling shoulders. “We have to stop on the way so you can change your clothes and your hair.” He waited until the silence grew uncomfortable, “Unless you want to go back to Iowa City?”

  Claire felt the movement of her baby inside of her. Her voice quivered, “No. This is something I need to do.” She reclined the seat and refused to turn toward Phil. “I think I’d like to rest while we drive to this hotel.” She knew he’d watched her for months. She remembered the note he sent the night Tony came to her hotel in San Diego. She couldn’t let him see the tears which refused to stay behind the Cartier sunglasses. He’d know immediately -- Iowa City was her destin
ation of choice.

  *****

  There were so many things Sophia needed to do at her studio. An exhibit throws everything off kilter. Cassie, the assistant she hired to keep the Cape studio open while she was in California, was supposed to meet her at nine. Waking and sleeping at appropriate hours had never been Sophia’s gift. She was better of late, but the exhibit wore her out. When she rolled over and saw the bright Cape Cod sun streaming through her windows, she jumped from bed knowing she’d overslept.

  It was a quarter after nine before she made her way out the door. Luckily, it wasn’t a long walk to the studio. Derek kept talking about her buying a bigger studio, but honestly, she was happy with the one her parents helped her start. As she closed her front door and breathed in the wonderful salt air, her purse began to vibrate. Immediately, she assumed it was Cassie wondering if she would make their meeting. Glancing at the screen of her phone, Sophia saw an unknown number with the Princeton, New Jersey, prefix. She hit: Answer.

  “Mrs. Sophia Burke?”

  “Yes, this is she.” The bright sunshine faded.

  “Ms. Burke, I’m sorry to be making this call, but a blue Camry was discovered this morning. We don’t know the cause of the accident, but we believe both of your parents were discovered within the car. It may have been due to wet leaves. We had a hard rain here last night. Or with the year of your parent’s car, it could be an acceleration issue. Their car hit a tree. The coroner believes they both died instantly. We need you to travel to New Jersey to identify the bodies.”