Текст книги "Truth "
Автор книги: Aleatha Romig
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Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 42 страниц)
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Claire looked at her phone and wondered if she should call Tony. After all, she didn’t want Tony’s fine legal staff presenting Meredith with a restraining order. Claire tried earlier to reach her old friend, but she was busy in another interview.
Claire closed her eyes and debated the effectiveness of her case, she would tell Tony: I was upset after you left last night. You should know that. I fell asleep before I could call Meredith. The blog was already up and viral by the time I woke-up.
There were over 300,000 hits. Her planned words were all true. Claire just wasn’t sure if she could talk to Tony, after what happened last night with Harry.
Thinking about last night ... and this morning... caused a smile to sneak onto her face, momentarily forgetting the blog. She lowered her sunglasses over her eyes, placed the iPad face down on the small table, and relaxed against the soft lounge chair.
Absorbing the sunshine, she recalled her night and morning. When she and Harry finally talked about what they’d done, Claire was reassured by their like mindedness. Neither wanted to jeopardize their friendship, and both thought they were comfortable with the additional benefits. After all, they’re both consenting adults.
Harry previously accused Claire of being distant regarding her past. If that were true, he was in another state. Until this morning, he’d kept his personal past hidden. Even Amber hadn’t mentioned anything.
After their morning’s use of Harry’s last condom, he wheeled the cart with coffee into the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, sipping coffee, wrapped only in a sheet with Harry once again dressed felt absolutely licentious. Despite all they’d done, the decadence was stimulating. She remembered peering at him over the rim of her coffee mug, secretly wishing he had more silver packets, and knowing their daily coffee chats would never be the same. She listened as Harry offered a small glimpse into his history:
He only had, had two serious relationships. He acknowledged other sexual encounters, but there were only two he considered girlfriends. One started in college and lasted three years. Claire listened, thinking that was longer than her time with Tony. The most recent lasted about a year and a half and ended a few months before Claire arrived in Palo Alto.
At first it surprised Claire she didn’t know any of this. Then she realized how little she knew about Harry’s past. He’d been very forthcoming regarding his work at SiJo and previous police work. But that was all in relation to his investigating skills with Tony.
This morning he told her about regular medical care and his belief that he was healthy and free of all communicable diseases. He even offered to have a routine check if it would ease Claire’s mind. He winked and his blue eyes twinkled when he mentioned with a clean bill of health and her on the pill, they could avoid the bothersome condoms. While Claire appreciated his candor, she wondered if this was what dating had become, the exchange of medical records. It wasn’t like she ever had a chance to consider that with Tony. And she had seen a doctor in prison, without a doubt, her medical record was clear. The pill – that was something worth considering.
As he volunteered a larger glimpse of his personal history, Claire wondered why she’d felt the pressing need to share her past despite knowing so little of his. She reasoned it was due to his help researching Tony’s past. After all, Harry hadn’t asked Claire to investigate his ex-girlfriend.
It was the name of Harry’s most recent girlfriend which caused Claire to twinge. She wasn’t sure what it meant. Could it be jealousy? She didn’t think so. However, not only had she met his ex, she’d talked with her. Now the more recent coolness she’d noticed from Amber’s personal assistant made sense: only months before, Harry and Liz had cohabitated.
“Do you find it weird working with her every day?” Claire asked.
“No. It’s over. We both know it. Besides she’s great at what she does.” Wow, that was an open ended statement, Claire thought. “And Amber doesn’t want to lose her, just because we had a thing.”
“That’s incredibly mature. Does she feel the same?”
“Well, I think so,” he shrugged. “We haven’t talked about it.” Looking closely over the rim of his mug with a look of disgust, he added, “Not everyone hires private detectives to follow their ex’s every move.”
That reminded Claire of Phil’s secret message from the night before. With everything else, she’d actually forgotten. Harry’s eyes widened with curiosity when she told him about the wine delivery and the note.
Taking her empty cup, Harry kissed her nose and said, “My, your list of admirers continues to grow. How did I end up being the one to stay the night?”
The idea of Tony or Phil staying made Claire uncomfortable. Mostly because she’d fantasized about one and hardly knew the other. But Harry’s tone made the blood rush again to her cheeks. She couldn’t believe she was blushing like a school girl. “Lucky, I guess, Mr. Baldwin.”
“I would have to agree.” His smile warmed her.
They also talked about her last night in San Diego. Despite Mr. Rawlings’ request (more of a mandate, Claire thought), to stop her discussions with Meredith, she had a scheduled meeting and planned to keep it. She planned to do what she’d told Tony – go on with the interviews but halt production. Recounting the sickening feeling of fear for Harry, Amber, John, and Emily, she believed this might just be the ticket to keep them safe. However, she did worry about Meredith’s reaction. Undoubtedly, she would want her article or articles published, preferably sooner than later.
Harry asked, “So would you mind company for the rest of your stay? I’ll make myself scarce while you and Meredith are working.” Claire smiled and remained silent. She liked his requests. They were so much nicer than decrees. Harry continued, “I think with all of your visitors, I should stay... for your safety.”
“Didn’t you say Tony’s plane went back to Iowa?”
“Yes.” He hesitated and then asked, “Does that mean your answer’s no?”
“It means you need a better reason.” Her eyes twinkled.
“How about, I want to?”
“That works for me. But maybe you could...” She raised her eyebrows.
This time his cheeks reddened, “Yes, I was thinking a stop at the drug store was in order.” Claire didn’t respond verbally, she just nodded.
*****
The vibration of her iPhone, against the glass surface of the small table, pulled Claire from her memories. She read the screen: TONY CELL.
Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall behind you.
—Charlotte Whitton
Chapter 27
TONY CELL, Claire read the words from her iPhone. She wanted to be the one to call him, but her memories faded into dreams as she lay on the sunlit lounge chair. Mindlessly, she realized her plate was gone and her tea was full. The vibration and ringing confirmed her earlier concern; Tony or Shelly must’ve seen Meredith’s blog. Claire knew she needed to meet his confrontation head-on. If she didn’t, she risked him flying back to San Diego. And seeing as how her sleeping situation had recently changed, that wouldn’t be good. After the fifth ring she squared her shoulders and swiped the screen.
“Hello, Tony.”
“Claire.”
She couldn’t determine his mood by his one-word response. “To what do I owe this honor? First a visit – now a call.” Claire tried in vain to sound nonchalant.
“It seems that your friend blogged about your impending disclosure.”
“Yes, I read that.”
“We discussed this yesterday. I was under the impression we’d reached an agreement.”
Claire reached up and touched the pearl dangling daintily from her neck. “As I recall our agreement states the articles won’t be printed, unless something happens to me or someone associated with me.” She attempted to maintain her businesslike tone. “I said I would go on with the interviews.”
Sarcastically he asked, “Tell me Claire, do you expect bodyguards for everyone? I’ll need a list of names.”
She shook her head, “I expect distance and respect.”
“And I expect my directives to be followed.” Claire recognized the change in Tony’s tone. It was harder with increased volume. “Her blog no longer exists.”
“That’s unreasonable.” She replied, “She didn’t know anything about your directive. I haven’t had the chance to speak with her.”
“That’s your undoing, not mine.”
“Actually, I beg to differ. I was upset by your visit last night, more accurately by your gift. Instead of calling, I fell asleep. By the time I woke, she wasn’t available and the blog was viral.” As Claire spoke, she powered-up her iPad and searched for Meredith’s blog. The web address she’d used earlier was met with the Error Response: Server not found. “Shit, Tony, what have you done?”
“I believe I presented you with a sign of commitment, and now I have presented you with a warning. Following my rules isn’t optional. I expect you to remember that, if you want your requests to be considered.”
Claire’s blood boiled. She remembered his rules and his redundant lectures regarding those rules. However, as much as she wanted to argue and fight, she wanted her loved ones safe, and John’s law license reinstated. With great effort, Claire’s voice strained with projected compliance, “I will speak with Meredith this evening. Nothing more will appear in print or on-line as long as people stay safe and John gets his license.”
“Your second request will take some time.”
“Tony, it wasn’t a request.”
“Your bravado is appreciated, but I won’t be swindled. I don’t make mistakes or unsubstantiated threats. It would do you well to keep that in mind.”
“From business metaphors to chess, the thing is, for a swindle to have occurred I would need to be losing. On the contrary, I’m in California and you’re in Iowa. I would say I have the initiative.”
“Well, I see your weakness, your hole, and I’m confident that you’ll blunder. The queen will be mine.”
“Yes, I know the term. Now, didn’t you tell me last night that I continually exceed your expectations?” She didn’t wait for a response. “I think you’ve forgotten – to win at the game of chess it isn’t the queen you seek, but the king.”
“You may consider Meredith’s blog to be a gambit, but I doubt she shares your point of view. I look forward to the end-game.”
Claire sighed, “I will talk with her tonight.”
“By the way, I like the black bathing suit, but I’d prefer it here at the estate where it wouldn’t be seen by as many people.”
Her head darted from side to side. Behind the trunk of a palm tree, under the shade of an umbrella she saw Phillip. “Good-bye, Tony.” She disconnected the line, before he could comment. She stood and made her way toward Phil’s umbrella; they needed to talk.
The late afternoon temperature was perfect. The low humidity combined with a light breeze made the pool oasis a haven for relaxation. However, as Claire approached Philip Roach, his expression looked anything but relaxed.
She didn’t ask permission to sit in the chair next to his, she just did.
His voice was curt, “Ms. Nichols, I thought we weren’t to know one another. Can I assume we’re being photographed?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Holding up her phone Claire continued, “It seems my ex-husband is receiving up to the minute updates. He even knows what I’m wearing.”
“What can I say, I have a job. I do it.”
“Then tell me what last night’s note was all about.”
Phil looked away. Eventually the enticement to see Claire sitting next to him, in nothing but her black bikini, was too strong. He returned her gaze. Mindlessly he wished she wasn’t wearing the large sunglasses. He so rarely was able to look at her this close. He wanted to see her eyes. Finally he responded to her question, “It was a display of unwise judgment.”
“Unwise?” Her voice softened, “I thought it was kind.”
“Well, Ms. Nichols, I’m not paid to be kind. I suppose I momentarily forgot my place in this equation.”
Her anger regarding Tony’s knowledge of her attire faded. She gently touched Phil’s outstretched leg and said, “Thank you. He was upset when he arrived.” She smirked, “He’s not too happy right now. But he calmed last night, he’ll calm again.”
“You seem to have an uncanny ability. My concerns were unfounded.”
“No Phillip, your concerns were admirable. Thank you.”
He nodded.
Claire went on, trying to give Phillip some sense of understanding. “This is nothing but a game to Mr. Rawlings. Unfortunately for me, he has the ability and resources to keep the game going into untold overtime. And you are a piece of that game.”
“Game? That wasn’t the impression I’ve received.”
“It’s like chess. I make a move, he makes a move. Eventually one of us will declare check-mate.”
“From my short experience, I believe you’re a worthy opponent.”
“You see, that’s where I’m confused. Sometimes I think I’m an opponent. Other times I think he believes I’m the prize. Thing is, I’m not interested in being a prize.”
“Maybe instead of chess, it is archery. And you, Ms. Nichols, are the target.”
She pondered his observation. That scenario would take more consideration. She asked, “By the way, what happened to you at that French restaurant?”
“I had an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
Claire nodded. “Thank you again for your concern. I’m in hope of you being dismissed soon, but I doubt that will happen. And at this time I don’t want to break in another bodyguard. So I’ll leave you to your work.”
As Phil watched, Claire walked back to her chair. He considered her words and thought to himself, bodyguard – that does sound better than paid voyeur.
After her time by the pool, Claire went back to her suite and made some calls. A lot had happened with Tony since she’d last spoken with Courtney. Claire told her all about Meredith and the agreement she hoped to secure with her tonight. She also told Courtney about Tony’s surprise appearance the night before.
Courtney filled Claire in on the progress of Caleb and Julia’s wedding. With it less than a month away, Courtney was trying to be as helpful as possible. Claire smiled, listening to her friend go on and on about dresses, rehearsal dinner, and tuxedos. Claire told her how much she’d like to help. They both knew that wouldn’t happen. Nevertheless, Courtney promised lots and lots of pictures.
Just before they hung-up, Claire mentioned her other late night visitor. Claire couldn’t tell Amber about what they did. It was refreshing to have a friend with whom she could talk to about Harry. Courtney didn’t judge; she listened. When Claire said Harry did make her smile, Courtney said she couldn’t wait to meet him. Her last comment on the subject caught Claire off guard. Courtney remarked, “Can you imagine if Tony realized his visit was the push to advance your relationship with Harry?” Claire hadn’t thought of it like that. She remembered Harry’s question. If Courtney’s observation was right, was she pushing Tony out, instead of letting Harry in?
Harry returned to the suite later in the afternoon looking delicious in new jeans and a new black t-shirt. Since he hadn’t planned on staying in San Diego, he was forced to do some shopping. With a boyish smirk, he handed Claire a plastic bag containing a box. She looked into the bag and returned his smile from under her mascaraed lashes. It seemed silly to feel shy about the box of condoms. However, when she noticed the number on the side of the box she exhaled. She didn’t know they were sold by the dozen.
Her thoughts went back to Palo Alto. Did his bulk purchase mean he intended this arrangement to continue back at the condominium? She wasn’t opposed. It would just be different. This get-a-way was more like a holiday. Another issue requiring more thought.
Just before seven o’clock, Harry asked Claire, “I was thinking, instead of flying back to Palo Alto tomorrow, maybe you’d be interested in driving?”
“Driving? How long of a drive is it?”
“About eight hours.”
Claire stared in disbelief. “Eight hours?! Why do you want to do that?”
“Because, Santa Monica is about two and a half hours from here. And a friend of mine, known for his amazing research, tracked down Patrick Chester.”
Claire contemplated for a moment, “Chester? The neighbor of the Rawls? The man whose house Tony went to, to make the 911 call?”
“Yes, one and the same. If you want to visit, I’ll call him this evening and see if we can arrange a meeting.”
Her mind spun. That wasn’t something she’d even considered. Claire thought if Tony was upset about me visiting with Meredith, this would throw him over the edge. But then again, she did have a reservation to fly back to Palo Alto at nine in the morning. If she didn’t cancel, Phillip would once again lose track of her, at least temporarily.
A knock came on the door of Claire’s suite interrupting their conversation. Looking through the peep hole, she saw Meredith. Just before opening the door, she turned to Harry and replied, “If he’s willing to meet, let’s do it.”
Harry leaned down and kissed her. His voice sounded huskier than before, “I’ll be back after your meeting. Have a nice dinner.”
His smile made her pulse increase and her stomach clench. She replied, “You, too. Sorry you’re eating alone.”
“I’ll survive.”
With that, Claire opened the door and Meredith entered. Claire made quick introductions, “Meredith this is Harrison Baldwin. Harry this is Meredith Banks.” The two shook hands and made quick pleasantries. Harry excused himself and left.
When the door shut, Meredith’s eyebrows shot up, “Is he the man I’ve seen you with in the magazines.”
“Are we off the record?”
Meredith smiled, “Yes.”
Claire returned her smile, a little more shyly, “Yes.”
“My Claire, you certainly know how to attract the good looking men. If I weren’t married, I’d ask your secret.”
Their easy banter quickly disappeared as Claire explained the loss of Meredith’s blog.
Meredith stared in disbelief, “I thought there was a problem with the server due to the excessive number of hits. I never dreamt it could be due to Mr. Rawlings.” She sat in silence for a moment and added, “So, is this an example of what he can do?”
Claire nodded. “It is. Are you sure you want to do this. He was here last night, and I can promise he isn’t supportive.”
“He was here? So you two are still talking, after everything... the prison thing and all?”
Claire nodded, “Honestly, I don’t know if I’d call it conversation. I’m speaking, he’s speaking... well you get the picture.”
Meredith nodded affirmatively.
“He set some boundaries.” Claire explained briefly, “At this time I’m inclined to respect them. It’s a quid pro quo thing.”
Meredith laid her purse on the table, pulled a small laptop from her bag and turned it on. “All right then, lay it on me. What are the rules?”
Claire snickered, “Oh, you have no idea.”
She and Meredith discussed the new rules: They would continue to meet, Claire would tell her story, it could be written, but it would only be published if Tony failed to keep Claire and her close friends safe. During the conversation, Claire realized Meredith needed compensation for lack of publication. Claire could help with some of that, but decided if Tony wanted to keep this quiet, he could help float the bill.
After dinner, Claire gave Meredith a small sample of what she could expect. It began with the story of a twenty-five year old woman working at a local news affiliate in Atlanta, Georgia. After ten, Claire decided she was done talking for the night. Their story ended with that same woman waking in an unknown room. Claire didn’t begin to describe the woman’s physical condition, just the terror of a lost day and the unknown.
Meredith typed feverishly and conceded, “I want this story. I’m willing to do anything and follow any rules to be the one to write it.”
They agreed to meet again in a week. This time Meredith would travel to Palo Alto.
Claire’s airline reservation required her to leave the hotel early. Even though she wouldn’t board the flight, Harry and Claire chose to stay on schedule. It would help their illusion with Phillip Roach. Their night hadn’t been as late as the night before. Nonetheless, Harry’s trip to the drug store wasn’t for naught.
When Harry and Claire arrived at the airport, they traded Claire’s Mazda 3, for a Mustang Convertible. As Harry lowered the roof on the bright blue muscle car, Claire secured her hair in a ponytail. She smiled and chose not to respond to Harry’s comments as he put Claire’s luggage in the car. He mumbled something under his breath about how happy he was he didn’t have luggage. Claire’s suitcases seemed to fill most of the trunk. Shaking his head he repeated, “It was only a three day trip.”
The ocean breeze helped disperse the clouds and create bright blue patches high above, matching the paint of the Mustang. Harry eased the rental car into the light Sunday traffic of I-5N. Claire laid her head against the seat and enjoyed the sun and wind on her face.
She didn’t often allow herself to think about prison. It was easier to keep it compartmentalized away. Nevertheless, sometimes the isolation and incarceration came rushing back. The memories of days, weeks, and months with limited interaction, fresh air or sunshine would infiltrate an otherwise happy day. It happened as she listened to Led Zeplin sing about a stairway to heaven. Closing her eyes behind the Oliver Peoples sunglasses she relished the warmth and tingling on her cheeks. It was all such a contrast to those dark months. Claire didn’t even realize she was lingering on her own sad memories until she felt the tears slip from her eyes. Harry reached for her hand and squeezed, offering comfort.
He turned down the music and leaned toward her, “Are you all right? If you don’t want to do this, I understand. Amber told me the police reports upset you.”
Claire took a tissue from her purse. “It isn’t that. I really haven’t given this whole meeting a lot of thought.”
“What is it?”
She exhaled. “I just love the sun and wind.”
Harry smiled and squeezed her hand again. “Well, if it makes you cry, maybe we should avoid things you love.”
Claire grinned through her tears, “How about I try not to cry, and we enjoy lots of sun and wind.”
“You don’t need to try anything.”
A few minutes later, Claire volunteered softly, “Sometimes I remember what it was like to only see the sun for an hour a day.”
Harry exhaled. His grip intensified upon the steering wheel, “I forget about your time in prison. You never talk about it.” She shook her head. His eyes screamed compassion as his blonde unruly hair blew in the wind. “You can cry, laugh or scream, anything that helps. Go for it.”
She squeezed his hand, laid her head against the head rest, closed her eyes, opened her mouth and screamed! It was like nothing she’d ever done before. She didn’t look at Harry; her eyes stayed closed tight. They were traveling at approximately seventy miles per hour, with the wind blowing wisps of her tied back hair and the sun bathing her cheeks.
Although her first attempt was weak, Claire didn’t quit. She pictured her cell, the cement block walls, and sparse furnishings. She tried again. This time she felt the sound begin in her diaphragm, travel up her throat, and explode through her lips.
Without thinking she felt the smile creep onto her face. Despite the memories, the outlet filled her with hope. When had she last screamed? Really screamed? There were plenty of opportunities, but she’d never done it.
Feeling the release, from her toes to her eyebrows, Claire scrunched her eyes tighter and gave the scream one more try. This one lasted longer, going on and on. Her eventual silence came only due to the deflation of her lungs. Nevertheless, once they inflated again, the sound morphed to a giggle, starting as a lonely chuckle and propagating. By the time she opened her eyes, tears leaked from her lids, not from sadness, but from the rush of release.
Harry tried to maintain his focus on the highway. There were other cars as well as big trucks. The lack of roof made the rush of wind and sound so much louder than it’d be normally. However, the woman beside him filled him with awe. When he’d said to scream, he never expected her to take him up on it. But there she was head back, emerald eyes hidden behind lids and sunglasses, with her mouth open wide.
His peripheral vision refused to release her image, even for one second. The second scream was louder. The third was beyond belief. For a moment he thought about Claire in a prison cell. In that instant his chest filled with angst for her plight. Yet, that thought was but a flash. Claire started to laugh. Yes, Harry couldn’t believe his ears. Her chuckle grew becoming infectious. His expression of disbelief changed, as if his lips started at below zero and within seconds became zero and soon forty-five degrees. When she finally opened her eyes, he couldn’t contain his own laughter.
Never could he remember feeling the admiration for someone he currently felt for Claire Nichols. How could anyone let her go?
At that second, Harry realized, no one could. Anthony Rawlings would never let her go. If Claire were to be part of his life, so would Anthony Rawlings. He forced a smile and glanced toward her hidden eyes.
Claire’s voice transcended the rush of air, “Thank you. I really do like the car and the drive.”
“You’re very welcome, anytime.”
With her cheeks still raised and her lips turned upward, she moved her glance to the right. He thought about the woman who arrived at Amber’s apartment; would that woman have screamed at the top of her lungs, on highway 5-N? Would she have joined him in their activities over the last two days? Harry wasn’t sure. He knew the petite brunette at his side was a mass of contrary emotions and actions. Beyond anything, he longed to explore every one of them.
Claire glanced back at Harry as he suggested, “I know this great place in Oceanside for Sunday brunch. Are you up for stopping on our way to Santa Monica?”
“Yes, it sounds great.”
