Truth (6 page)

Emily’s number was
unpublished, but Claire remembered it was listed on the information
from the prison. Of course, Emily was her emergency contact.
Listening to the telephone ring she prayed she’d catch her sister
before Emily left for work. It was after eight in Indiana. As the
answering machine began to speak, Claire hung-up. She didn’t want
to leave a message
. What if Emily’s line
was monitored?
Claire knew she sounded
paranoid. But, how does the saying go? Just because you’re paranoid
doesn’t mean someone’s
not
out to get you.

While Amber readied for work, Claire
continued to browse the laptop. There was so much information
literally at her fingers tips. Amber’s internet was much faster
than the one at the prison. Claire was lost in cyberspace when
sounds came from the living room. Someone had entered the front
door of the condo.

Walking casually into the kitchen, in worn
jeans, a white t-shirt, and bare feet was a handsome man. His
blonde hair fell in messy waves, and his face held the telltale
shadow of someone who’d yet to shave. Not knowing what to do,
Claire sat quietly and watched as he walked in a sleepy haze toward
the mysterious coffee maker. After engineering the machine like a
pro, he turned toward the table and saw Claire. His smile extended
to his cheeks creating small lines around his light blue eyes. “Oh,
hello, you must be Claire.” He casually leaned against the counter
and took her in.

Suddenly she felt
underdressed. Not like she needed to be formal, just more clothes
than a t-shirt and shorts. Claire couldn’t help notice his firm
lean body, long legs, and obvious level of comfort. “Yes, I am. I’m
also at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
Other than guards, she hadn’t spoken to a man in a longtime. She
suddenly realized this man must be Amber’s new romance. She
couldn’t help but think Amber moved on rather quickly. It wasn’t a
judgmental thought, more an observation. Especially after last
night’s conversation regarding their
common bond
with Simon. Claire also
realized she should stop staring in his direction. He may be
handsome, but the last thing Claire wanted to do was cause problems
between Amber and her beau.

Offering his hand, he walked forward, “So
sorry, my name is Harry. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“
Finally?” She responded
as she shook his hand and recovered her own quickly.

“
Well, I’ve heard all
about you since you contacted Amber months ago.”

As Harry spoke, Amber
returned to the kitchen. She no longer looked like the stylish
casual woman of last night or the sleepy robe wearing woman of
earlier. Instead, she personified Ms. McCoy, CEO of SiJo Gaming.
Everything from her attire to her long hair twisted into a knot at
the back of her neck said
professional
. Truthfully Claire
wondered if she’d been met by
this
Amber at the airport, would she have felt
intimidated. That thought faded faster than the smoke from an
extinguished candle when Amber spoke. Her voice brimmed with
unabashed joy and enthusiasm. “Claire, I see you’ve met my brother.
Harry lives down the hall and thinks mooching off of me is easier
than buying his own groceries.” She smiled as she gave her brother
a flittering kiss on the cheek.

He smiled in return, “I just really like
your coffee maker.”

“
And my cereal, and my
toast, and my…” Laughter interlaced Amber’s words. Claire tried to
soak in their joviality. She honestly couldn’t remember the last
time she’d experienced such a refreshing atmosphere.

Sipping her own coffee, Claire asked, “What
do you do, Harry? You don’t seem as ready for work as Amber.”

Amber laughed again, “What do you mean? That
is about as dressed up as he gets.”

“
Hey, that’s not true. I
wear shoes -- sometimes.” He winked at Claire. She felt herself
blush. She didn’t know why, and neither of the others seemed to
notice.

“
Well, for the next few
days my job is
you
.” He said as he took his coffee to the table. Sitting in the
chair opposite Claire, he gazed into her stare.

This time she blushed, “Me? What do you
mean?”

Amber answered, “I hope you don’t mind. I’d
like to be the one to help you get things started here in
California, but I’ve got a lot happening at work. There’s a new
launch about to take place. Harry on the other hand has more
flexibility with his job. I asked him to help you do whatever you
need.”

Claire thought for a moment. “Thank you,
Harry. I guess I need to decide what that is.”

Sipping his coffee, he offered, “I’m in no
rush. But, I was thinking you’ll need more identification; so you
should request a copy of your birth certificate. Once that arrives
you can do things like open a bank account. After that, the
possibilities are limitless.”

“
A telephone.” Claire said
dreamily, “I’d like to get a telephone.”

Harry and Amber smiled at one another. He
replied, “That can be our first mission.” Neither understood how
monumental the common piece of technology would be to Claire.

Lost in her new thoughts Claire continued,
“And some clothes. But that can wait until after the bank
account.”

Amber offered Claire a loan to help her get
started. Claire hesitated, but knowing she had the cashier’s check,
she relented, “After I get the birth certificate, can I get a
California driver’s license?”

“
Can you drive?” Harry
asked jokingly.

Claire nodded.

“
Then, I don’t see why
not.” Harry answered.

Claire’s emerald eyes glowed with
anticipation. Who would have thought, she’d have a new home, in
California. “So how do I get the birth certificate?”

“
How about we eat some of
Amber’s breakfast foods first?”

Walking toward her bedroom Amber called back
to the kitchen, “See what I mean?”

The secret to getting away
with lying
is believing it with all your heart, that goes for lying to
yourself
even more so than lying to another.
-
Elizabeth Bear

Chapter
3

Jane Allyson watched the snow and rain pelt
the window of her small yet distinguished office. The mixture
melted the scene of downtown Des Moines into a sad impressionistic
painting. She wanted to concentrate on cases at hand. She had more
than enough work to keep her busy, but her mind continually went
back to Claire Nichols.

Late the other evening, Jane’s private cell
rang. Only a week and a half since she’d watched Ms. Nichols fade
into a sea of unknown faces, on the other side of security at the
Des Moines International Airport, she heard Claire’s positive tone.
They didn’t talk long, but Claire’s unspoken message was louder
than her words.

She was settled, making a life, and doing
well. She also told Jane she mailed her a check for her services.
What she didn’t say, but Jane heard loud and clear, was a regained
resolve. Wherever Claire was, she was emerging from the depths of
the past three years – a butterfly finally emerging from the
encased cocoon.

It was like Jane could hear the
determination her client held during her interviews at the
courthouse in Iowa City in 2011. Although Jane moved on to other
clients, she could close her eyes and see Claire Rawlings at the
steel table, recounting her tortured life with Anthony Rawlings. At
the time, Jane felt overwhelmed with compassion and respect for the
petite woman. Many victims were unable to share details like the
ones Claire described, especially against such a respected
assailant. Yet, with each sentence, Mrs. Rawlings grew in
stature.

None of it mattered. After the prosecutor,
Marcus Evergreen, wove his web around Claire’s testimony, she
wisely chose incarceration over courtroom drama and further public
scrutiny. Despite her circumstances, when the judge proclaimed the
final sentence, Claire Nichols accepted the words with dignity and
strength.

During the recent
telephone call, Jane didn’t
just
sense renewed determination. She heard hope and
optimism, qualities Ms. Nichols lost. They never discussed Claire’s
final destination. Jane believed it was better not to know –
plausible deniability
.

As she stared at the frigid Iowa morning,
Jane didn’t regret filing Claire’s pardon petition. Jane believed,
no matter the consequences, freeing Claire Nichols was the right
motion. Thankfully, after some debate, the partners of her firm
agreed.

Earlier this morning, while readying for
work, Jane saw Claire’s face on the local news. Two weeks after the
fact -- the news of her release was out. Jane couldn’t contain her
smile. She didn’t know how Governor Bosley kept it quiet so long,
but Jane was thankful.

Word was, Richard Bosley was fading fast --
stage four B pancreatic cancer, metastized to his bones.

Settling into her leather chair, Jane sipped
warm coffee and contemplated her impending meeting. Her earlier joy
diminished as she entered her office greeted with multiple urgent
messages from Anthony Rawlings’ secretary. Apparently, Mr. Rawlings
learned of Claire’s release last night, prior to the news
release.

His secretary asked Jane to travel
immediately to Iowa City for a meeting with Mr. Rawlings. Jane
smiled, wondering how many people drop everything at such a
summons. Jane respectfully informed the woman she was involved in
very important cases and would need to check her schedule. After a
prolonged silence, during which Jane stared aimlessly out her large
window contemplating the grey skies and chances of rain, Jane
informed the secretary she would be available to make a trip to
Iowa City -- a week from Thursday. The woman was obviously dismayed
by Jane’s refusal to fall prostrate to the great Anthony
Rawlings.

A few minutes later Jane’s
phone rang. This time it wasn’t a request. Mr. Rawlings’ secretary
informed Jane Mr. Rawlings would be at her office by ten
this
morning. Jane
thought about stalling the meeting, saying she was busy. But, she
decided she wanted to see her client’s ex-husband for another
reason. She believed Mr. Rawlings’ demeanor would reveal if
he
were the anonymous
benefactor.

If Jane sensed Mr. Rawlings wasn’t Claire’s
savior, she wouldn’t mention the origins of the petition. The
benefactor would remain a mystery.

Tearing Jane from her thoughts, her
assistant’s voice broke through the speaker, “Ms. Allyson, Mr.
Rawlings is here, accompanied by his attorney Mr. Simmons.”

Jane took a deep breath and exhaled. “Please
send them in.”

Seeing the strained
expression on the entrepreneur’s face, Jane knew immediately; Mr.
Rawlings did
not
send her the letter. He obviously came expecting answers. She
had to wonder,
if it wasn’t him, then
who?

“
Hello, Mr. Rawlings, Mr.
Simmons,” she nodded at the men as they entered her office. “Please
have a seat.” She motioned to the two chairs sitting opposite her
desk. Although probably not as grand as theirs, this was her office
and Jane would take the seat of honor. Closing the door she
returned to her leather chair. “Now gentleman, to what do I owe
this honor?”

Mr. Simmons spoke first,
“It has just recently come to my client’s attention, on March
8
^th
you filed a petition with then Governor Bosley requesting a
pardon for Claire Nichols.”

“
Yes, that’s
correct.”

“
My client would like to
know why this was filed, on what grounds, and who approached you to
make this request.”

“
Gentleman, Ms. Nichols
was never convicted of a crime. She pled
no contest
. That was
not
an admission of
guilt. She’s had an impeccable record during incarceration.
Truthfully, she’s the poster child for pardons. And, as for who
hired me, I’m sure you’re familiar with the term
confidential
.”

“
Why was I not notified?”
Apparently, Mr. Rawlings couldn’t restrain himself any
longer.

“
Why would you
be?”

“
For my safety. She tried
to kill me.”

“
Have you been
threatened,” Jane leaned forward, “since her release?”

“
No. I just learned of her
release last night.”

“
It
appears
as though you needn’t be
concerned. She’s had two weeks to finish what
you
claim she started,” Jane
grinned, “and it seems you’re still with us.”

Mr. Rawlings fought to keep his expression
indifferent.

Mr. Simmons continued the enquiry. “Do you
know where Ms. Nichols relocated? For my client’s safety he should
be informed.”

“
I do not. As I’m sure
you’re aware, with a pardon, the criminal record is expunged. Ms.
Nichols does not owe the court a thing. She is free to go wherever
she chooses. And furthermore, she is not required to keep the court
or the state of Iowa informed of her whereabouts. I took her to the
airport and left her at the gate. There is nothing more I can tell
you.”

Mr. Rawlings counsel continued, “She had a
ticket for San Francisco, but prior to boarding the plane, her
reservation was cancelled. Do you know where she went instead?”