Truth (45 page)

Harry remained uncharacteristically quiet as
Clair enjoyed the glowing vista. The glistening sun reflected off
the waves creating silver caps rolling upon the turquoise blue
ocean. Wistfully she remembered other sandy beaches. She loved the
soft gritty sensation as she wiggled her sand covered toes under
her chair.

After the waitress refilled their cups of
coffee, Harry’s soft voice penetrated the sounds of the sea, “If
this is too difficult for you, I can go to Patrick Chester’s house
alone. I’ll just call and reschedule.”

Claire looked up. Despite his concerned
expression, it was his long unruly blonde hair moving in the ocean
breeze that made her smile. Only once had she seen it controlled,
the night they’d met at the restaurant and he’d used gel. She
remembered he’d also worn a jacket, a sexy look, but not as sexy as
his jeans and well-fitting t-shirts.

“
No, I can do this.
Honestly, I haven’t allowed myself to think much about it. I guess
I’m torn.” Harry lifted his brows, and Claire clarified, “I’m
curious, but apprehensive. The police reports were upsetting. I’m
not sure I want to hear more gory details.”

“
That’s not why we’re
going to see him.”

Claire listened.

“
I asked a friend, who
works at SiJo, to help me with research.”

Claire interrupted, “Harry, please don’t do
that. I feel bad enough with all Amber’s done for me. She doesn’t
need to be paying people to research my vendetta.”

“
Well, Lee’s my friend; we
went to academy together. After Simon made me head of SiJo
security, I called him and offered him a job. There were openings
and he was more than qualified. He’s got a wife and two kids. The
increase in pay was too hard for him to turn down. Most of all,
he’s been a tremendous asset to SiJo. Amber isn’t wasting money on
him, no matter what he does.

Anyway, he’s always been a master at digging
for information. So, I might have mentioned that there were some
inconsistencies in the Samuel and Amanda Rawls case.”

Claire sat her coffee cup upon its saucer.
“Because... you often bring up old homicide or suicide cases during
lunch break?”

“
I might have also
mentioned you... and your ex... but I promise, Lee’s professional.
I told him about the ballistics and the reported COD. He agreed, it
seemed... well, fishy.”

“
Is that supposed to
explain why we’re going to Santa Monica?”

Harry remained silent as the waitress
interrupted their conversation, delivering food. The smell of sand
and salt disappeared into a cloud of decadent aromas. Claire
noticed the attentiveness of the cute voluptuous blonde, of course,
all directed toward Harry.

She watched as Harry
returned the server’s adoration with restrained politeness.
Momentarily Claire remembered being at restaurants with Tony. There
were times when waitresses or hostesses blatantly flirted. However,
as
red hot sexy
as
People Magazine
said he was, Anthony Rawlings was also
intimidating. More often than not, Claire witnessed shy smiles and
platitudes from servers, “
Thank you, sir.”
“If there is anything else I can do...”

Harry, on the other hand
screamed sexy, with his tight V-neck, relaxed
7 For All Mankind
jeans, and tussled
blonde hair. She thought about his
free
coffee, after their article
appeared in popular publications. Grinning into her quiche, Claire
inadvertently shook her head.

Harry looked up from his eggs Benedict to
see Claire’s actions, “What?”

She looked up with big
bright emerald eyes, trying for her most innocent;
I have no idea what you’re talking about
look.

After a bite of his eggs, complete with
Hollandaise sauce, Harry continued their conversation, “Well, Lee
is thorough. He, on his own, decided to do a better investigation
of the neighbor, Patrick Chester.”

Claire nodded, interested in Harry’s
information, almost as much as her fresh fruit.

“
It seems Chester was
awarded a settlement in November of 1989.”

“
That’s not long after
Samuel and Amanda’s death. What kind of settlement?” She managed
between bites of succulent pineapple.

Harry went on to explain the origin was
fuzzy. At first glance it appeared as though Chester was a litigant
in a class action suit. However, upon further investigation, the
beneficiary seemed to be an independent international company,
based in the Cayman Islands. The actual monies were siphoned
through a law firm in Los Angles. Of course, this law firm refused
to answer questions or divulge any information.”

“
What kind of settlement
are we talking -- how much money?”

“
The first installment was
only 20K.”

Claire had to ask, “The first?”

“
Well, his bank account
has received infusions every year. I want us to go to him with the
pretense of justifying his story.”

Claire looked puzzled.

Harry explained, “You’re
newly involved in the distribution of wealth. You’re just checking
your beneficiaries, making sure they deserve
your
annual supplement.”

“
I have no idea what
you’re saying. So, if I’m supposed to be clueless, I’ve got
this!”

“
Follow my lead. I used to
be very good at this kind of thing. Patrick Chester still lives in
Santa Monica, but not on Mongolia Drive like twenty- five years
ago.”

While heading east on highway 10 toward
Santa Monica, Harry asked Claire if she wanted to drive by the
bungalows owned by the Chesters and Rawls. She declined. What
benefit would she gain from seeing the home where Samuel and Amanda
Rawls died? She wasn’t a pathologist and what clues would be
available twenty-five years later?

Exiting Highway 10 onto Lincoln Avenue, they
wove around side streets on their way to Riviera Estates. It was a
posh neighborhood with an amazing view of Riviera Country Club.
Claire revisited their plan, “Did you actually speak with Mr.
Chester?”

“
Yes.”

“
And he’s willing to talk
to us?”

Harry turned toward Claire, “Yes. Well, kind
of.”

“
What do you
mean
, kind of
?”

“
He was hesitant until I
told him you’re a Rawls. And you needed to talk to him.”

“
I wasn’t a
...”

“
Theoretically you were.”
He interrupted, “Just let me do most of the talking”

Claire looked at him pensively.

“
Do you think you can do
this?”

Claire exhaled, “I guess.”

Harry squeezed her hand again, “It’ll be
fine, I promise. And, if my gut is right, this could be
enlightening.”

Claire laid her head back, closed her eyes,
and fought the onset of a headache, “All right, are we almost
there?”

“
A few more
minutes.”

Claire watched as the houses grew and the
yards became expertly landscaped. Slowly Harry pulled the Mustang
up to large iron gates and stopped at a guardhouse.

“
May I help you, sir?” the
uniformed man asked.

Harry removed his Ray-Bans and responded,
“Yes, Harrison Baldwin here to see Patrick Chester.”

The man in the small building referenced an
electronic tablet and nodded, “Yes, sir. 100023 Fairway Drive.
You’ll just need to continue left, then right at the
round-a-bout.”

Harry thanked the man and eased the car
forward.

Claire leaned toward Harry, “This is a very
nice neighborhood. What does Patrick Chester do?”

Harry hadn’t replaced his sunglasses. Claire
saw the twinkle in his eye, as he answered, “He’s retired. But
before that, he was in retail.”

“
Retail? Like he owned
some amazing chain or overpriced boutique.”

“
He didn’t own anything.
He was middle management at a mid-priced chain.”

They pulled onto a wide stone and slate
drive. A sprawling, stone and stucco house created an “L”, with a
four car garage perpendicular to the street. One bay of the garage
was open. Harry put the car in park, in front of the open door,
behind a sleek silver Audi S5.

Claire continued in a low
whisper, “Then how did he end up with
this
house with
that
car?”

“
That’s what we’re here to
find out.” Harry’s light blue eye disappeared momentarily as he
winked in Claire’s direction. “I’m thinking it has to do with that
mysterious settlement. Let’s give my theory a run?”

She smiled, “Okay, but if I forget my name
is Rawls, elbow me in the side.”

“
If you say so,” Harry
teased as they both stepped from the Mustang and moved toward the
front door.

Before Harry and Claire could reach the
stoop of 100023 Fairway Drive, the wide front door opened. A
balding gentleman wearing a black Burberry Brit Zip Hoodie, gray
t-shirt, and sweat shorts, stepped outside. If he’d been wearing
running shoes instead of flip-flops, he might look as if he was
about to jog around the neighborhood. Harry and Claire stopped. The
man hastily closed the large front door and rushed toward them.

As the distance narrowed between them, Harry
spoke, “Mr. Chester?”

Glancing right and then left, the man
answered, “Yes, yes. You must be Mr. Baldwin and Miss Rawls?”

Claire extended her hand, “My name is now
Nichols.”

Patrick Chester took her hand and assessed
the woman before him. “So are you Anton’s daughter or his
cousin?”

Claire’s back straightened. She saw the
smile sneak from the corner of Harry’s lips. Yes, she could
chronologically be Tony’s daughter, but no one had ever said that
to her before. While she fought with her answer, Harry spoke, “Mr.
Patrick, Ms. Nichols has been given the responsibility of
overseeing certain funds. She’s here today to confirm the need to
maintain one of those funds.”

Patrick glanced back toward his house.
“Let’s go around to the pool, my family’s in the house. They don’t
know anything about my settlement. I’d like to keep it that
way.”

Harry replied, “Of course. We’ll follow
you.”

He briefly reached for Claire’s hand and
squeezed. She chose not to reciprocate, deciding instead to press
her lips together and exhale. If he’d known her better, he would’ve
understood the displeasure screaming from her eyes. Instead he
goaded, “How’s Daddy?”

She leaned closer, “So far, I’m not
enlightened!”

They followed Patrick Chester through a
large wooden gate situated within the tall stone wall. Entering the
rear yard, Claire’s step stuttered at the majesty. A kidney shaped
swimming pool surrounded by lavish furniture served as the feature
of the lower level. It was a three tiered yard. A few steps up, the
next level contained an outdoor living room, complete with
fireplace, sofa, chairs, and encased technology center. Currently
country music lofted from the speakers. Claire looked even higher
and saw an orange grove on the upper level.

“
Your yard is beautiful
Mr. Chester.” Claire said as she sat at an umbrella covered table
near the shallow end of the pool.

“
Thank you, Ms. Nichols. I
don’t mean to be impolite, but let’s get this over with. This is
very unusual and quite frankly, makes me uncomfortable.”

Claire went on, “I was in the area and
decided today would be as good as any. Thank you for seeing
us.”

Patrick nodded.

Harry went on, “We’re here to confirm you’re
the true recipient of the ongoing settlement.”

“
Is this some kind of
joke? I’ve kept my end of this bargain.” He turned toward Claire,
“Your family better keep theirs.”

Without missing a beat, she replied, “Let’s
not get hasty. We just have a few questions.” She looked toward
Harry.

Harry asked, “Are you certain your original
testimony involving the presence of Samuel’s sister has been
contained.”

Patrick looked skeptically toward them, and
finally answered, “I think I need to see some identification. How
do I know you’re who you say you are?”

Claire reached for her purse and grabbed her
wallet. Before she could open it, Harry took it from her hand and
spoke, “Mr. Chester, how do we know you deserve to see
identification?”

“
You contacted
me.”

“
True, but give me
something. How do I know you’re the Patrick Chester who Ms. Nichols
needs to contact?”

“
What do you
want?”

“
Tell us exactly why you
deserve your annual settlement.”

With sarcasm dripping from his voice,
Patrick answered, “I don’t remember.”

Harry pushed, “What don’t you
remember?”
“You see, that’s the problem. If I remember -- your mom,” he looked
toward Claire, “or your aunt -- well, there’s no statute of
limitations on murder in California.”

Claire remained silent
while Harry opened her wallet and handed Patrick her American
Express credit card with
Claire R.
Nichols
embossed on the front. Patrick
took the card, read it, and handed it back to Harry. Claire watched
as each man’s eyes glared back and forth.

She reached for her credit card placed it
back in her wallet. Breaking the silence Claire said, “Thank you,
Mr. Chester, I’ll relay your information, but I can’t make you any
promises regarding future installments.”