Truth (83 page)

“
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.