Текст книги "Truth "
Автор книги: Aleatha Romig
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Текущая страница: 31 (всего у книги 42 страниц)
There are two mistakes one can make along the road to truth...not going all the way, and not starting.
—Buddha
Chapter 44
“Tony, I think the Simmons’ need to...”
Tony interrupted Claire’s attempt to avoid this discussion. “This won’t take long.” He turned to Brent. “I’ve trusted Brent with many things through the years.” Claire saw Brent’s stance stiffen. Were they all about to be reprimanded? Tony went on, “That’s why I wanted him to be the one to tell you about his progress regarding your brother-in-law.”
Brent visibly exhaled. Apparently, Claire hadn’t been the only one holding her breath. “Yes,” Brent said, looking at Claire as relief shone from his tired eyes. “Well, it seems some new information has come to the attention of the New York State Bar Association. This hasn’t been released to anyone, not even John. If my informant is correct, this new information will cause his case to come up for review soon. We are hoping the review will result in the reinstatement of his law license.”
Claire sprung skyward and clasped her hands with the news. “Oh, thank you.” The tears teetering in the house now spilled onto her cheeks. “Thank you, Brent. Thank you, Tony. I won’t say a word. When will you know if it will be up for review?”
Brent answered, “It’ll take a few months. I should be kept apprised of updates.”
Tony offered his hand to Brent, “Thank you,” he shook Brent’s hand. “I apologize for delaying your departure, but I wanted Claire to hear it from you.”
Courtney’s relief made her giddy, “That’s all right. However, now we need to go. I’m so glad this was good news.” Reaching out for Claire’s hand, “Now you need some rest. Tony’s right, you’ve had too many things thrown at you. Look how emotional you are.”
Claire nodded and managed, “We’ll see you tomorrow night. And, I’ll call.” The words spoken out loud felt liberating.
Tony grasped Claire’s hand, and they walked back to the silver Batmobile. As he opened her door, he bent down and whispered, “A man of my word.”
She smiled all the way to her emerald eyes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, I really mean that.”
The country roads wound like a ribbon before them. Claire closed her eyes and tried to comprehend the evening. There were so many things to think about. Yet, the only vision which managed to find its way to her consciousness was Sean, the way his pudgy little arms encircled Sue’s neck, his giggle as Tim propelled him in the air, and his security at landing on Tim’s strong stable shoulder. Would their child ever have that? Would Claire’s baby have a father willing to embrace him unconditionally?
Tony’s squeeze of Claire’s knee brought her back to the present. She focused on his words, part of a statement already in progress. “... it takes longer than you would expect. But, Brent thinks it can be resolved before the end of the year.”
Claire turned, “That’s a long time away. How long did it take to set him up?”
Tony turned. His expression suddenly darkened. “I’d rather not talk about that.”
With her preoccupation of Sean, she’d forgotten to weigh her words. “Why? I know you did it. You told Brent and Courtney you wanted to be honest. So be honest.”
Tony’s neck stiffened and he peered forward through the windshield. Finally he spoke, “From the time he turned down my job offer.”
Claire sat straighter and looked out the side window. She tried to keep her mind on the passing scenes. Subtle interruptions in the nocturnal darkness were visible with the occasional house or opening in the trees. The light from the quarter moon illuminated each field or a yard they passed. Although, the familiar terrain gave Claire comfort, she wrestled with Tony’s confession.
“You asked. Now, you won’t comment?” Tony asked.
“I don’t know what to say. Do you want my bold and cheeky response or the reticent and genteel one?”
Claire saw his knuckles blanch upon the steering wheel. She waited. Instinctively she knew she’d baited him enough. He’d been honest. She should give him credit for that.
“This is why I haven’t answered all of your questions. You may think you’re ready for answers, but you’re not. Bits and pieces may help you understand. But, the blatant truth is too much.”
Claire watched the passing scenes without comment. It wasn’t that words didn’t form in her head; they did. She chose to keep them to herself. In the past her silence may have been the result of fear regarding Tony’s reaction. Exhaustion was her current motivator. Without a doubt, Claire was tired of confrontation.
When Tony pulled the silver Batmobile onto the brick circular drive in front of his house, Claire turned to him. Sincerely and serenely, she placed her hand on top of his and spoke softly with confidence, “Thank you.” He turned – showering her with the intensity of his dark glare. Every fiber of his expression displayed his unspoken resentment regarding at her recent silence. Undeterred she continued, “Thank you for supporting me tonight with your friends. I was very nervous. It turned out much better than I could have possibly hoped. And thank you for helping John. I know you don’t like him, and you created his problems, but helping him now – it means a lot to me.” She leaned in and lightly kissed his lips.
The touch ignited feelings deep within her. The change in Tony’s breathing revealed a similar response. She searched his eyes in the dark stillness of the car.
“Claire, I am trying to give you space. But I’m on the edge.”
She leaned back and undid her seatbelt. “I know you’re trying. And I appreciate it.” She opened her door and started toward the house. She heard his door slam as he made his way to her, grasping her arm; he stopped her progress. They stood in the night upon the brick drive. His chest pressed against her hypersensitive breasts.
“I am very glad you are here.”
Claire smiled and looked up at the mansion before her. “I’m surprised at how much I like being here. I was afraid the bad memories would overpower the good.”
Tension escaped his lips in an audible sigh as a grin emerged, “Does that mean... the good overpower the bad?”
Claire shrugged. “I don’t know. I wish I could say yes. You said you want honesty, and honestly, I don’t know. They’re both there. It’s just that the familiarity of here is heartwarming.”
He kissed the top of her head and with lightened eyes offered, “I need to go into the office tomorrow morning. I hope to be done and home by noon. The dessert celebration isn’t until eight. Would you like to go for a walk tomorrow?”
“A walk?”
His encouraging smile peeked her curiosity. “Yes, Claire, to your lake?”
She smiled and nodded. “I would. Very much, I would like that.”
He kissed the hand he’d secured. “Please allow me to escort you to your suite. I will give you Courtney’s number and you may use the lock you requested. Actually,” his eyes narrowed, “I suggest you do.”
Claire pressed against his chest. “You know, we never did this.”
“This what?”
“We never dated. I guess twice, in Atlanta.” Her smile didn’t falter at the reference. “I like it.”
He gently squeezed her hand, and they ascended the front steps. “We better get you behind a locked door, so I don’t do anything to ruin this date.” He emphasized the word.
Claire smiled slyly, “Actually, according to a definition I recently heard, we need to be in public for this to be a date.”
Tony’s only response was another small squeeze of her hand. However, as they entered the well-lit foyer, her emerald eyes sparkled at his upturned lips.
Once behind her secured door, Claire hit call on the contact Tony had just added to her phone. After three rings she heard Courtney’s voice. “Hi Courtney, I was just checking the number Tony gave me...” They didn’t talk long. Courtney asked if Claire was okay. Claire assured her she was alone, behind a locked door, and fine. When she hung up, she sent a text message to Emily, Amber, and Harry. It said the same thing: I VISITED WITH TONY’S CLOSE FRIENDS. ALL WENT WELL. NOW SAFELY ALONE AND GOING TO SLEEP. WILL TEXT TOMORROW.
On the table, Claire found a note:
Mr. Rawlings turned off the cameras in your suite.
Please call the number below when you wake. Your breakfast
will be brought to you. Sleep well – good night, Catherine
Claire thought about the changes she’d seen in Tony. Was her opinion swayed because of their child? Did she see positives where she should be seeing warnings? Claire recalled Brent’s advice: Remember who you’re dealing with.
Wasn’t that a two edged sword? She had many memories of Tony, and a lot were good. Of course, there was a flip side. Perhaps, she should think about them. However, she didn’t want her baby overwrought with negativity.
Inhaling the cool night air, the country noises and moon lit vista enveloped Claire as she stepped onto the balcony. Despite the change in decor, the familiarity of the suite, balcony, and nocturnal murmurings comforted her. She felt her body relax and exhaustion prevail. Moments later she snuggled into the soft sheets as sounds of crickets and cicadas through the open French doors serenaded her to sleep.
The next morning Claire woke after ten. She blamed the time difference. Nonetheless, she lay motionless for moments, assessing her physical state. When she’d determined she was not going to be ill, she made her way to the bathroom. Next, she called the number from Catherine’s note. Claire didn’t leave her breakfast to chance. When Cindy answered, Claire was very specific, “Hello, Cindy, I’m finally awake. Could someone please bring me...?”
Cindy brought dry scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit and served it on the balcony. Claire ate her breakfast and drank tea and orange juice while a soft breeze blew her unbound hair around her face. Taking in the beautiful, green, peaceful scene, it was difficult not to enjoy her surroundings. Everything was perfect.
When Claire finally descended the grand stairs, it was almost twelve. She’d wanted to speak with Catherine. And although Tony was due home any minute, Catherine was waiting for her near the sun porch.
“Do you think we have time for a walk?” Claire asked.
“Yes, not too long. However, I believe it would be good for you to walk.”
The two women strode in step out of the sun porch and down into the backyard. Even though the midday sun heated the June day, a warm breeze kept the air moving and comfortable. Together they made their way to the gardens. Flowers of all colors adorned the paths. Following the flagstone stepping stones they made their way to a stone bench at the edge of Tony’s yard.
“This is visible, not audible.” Catherine said. Claire nodded. “Ms. Claire...”
“Just Claire, please?” Claire asked with a smile.
Catherine smiled, “Claire, thank you for what you said yesterday. You will never know how much it means to me. Mr. Rawlings asked me about a box of information sent to you in prison. Why do you believe it was sent?”
Claire’s insides fluttered. She didn’t know if it was their baby finally waking or anxiety produced by the possibility of answers to her many questions. “I think it depends on who sent it. At first I thought it was sent by Tony. If that were the case, I thought it was done maliciously – bragging about the things he’s done.” She paused. When Catherine didn’t respond, Claire continued. “Now I’m not sure. And I don’t understand all of the contents.”
“What don’t you understand?”
“How long have you known Tony?”
“A long time,” Catherine’s expression revealed someone reminiscing. “I met him the day he graduated high school.”
Claire gasped, she had no idea they went back that far. “So you knew him when he was Anton?” Catherine nodded. Claire asked, “Did you know his family: his parents and his grandparents?”
“Yes, I did.”
There were so many questions going through Claire’s mind. She didn’t know which ones to vocalize. “He never talks about his family. Well, he’s mentioned his grandfather a few times. Please tell me about them.”
Catherine focused on Claire, “Someday, perhaps. Today is about Anton. He needs you more than he is willing to admit, even now. I hope you can see the strides he has accomplished and the concessions he’s made.”
Claire fought the emotions within her. She steadied her shoulders, “I do. I also have memories. Not just the ones of here. You mentioned sometimes being with him was difficult. You and I both know that’s an understatement.” Claire inhaled deeply and continued, “I also have memories of prison. Tell me why he did that to me.”
“Mr. Rawlings is a man of his word. The problem was, he made two different promises and he felt honored to keep them both. He hoped that by fulfilling one, in a different than expected way, he may have the chance to rectify the other.” Catherine squeezed Claire’s hand. “That’s up to you. Please give him the chance.”
“Why are you so loyal to him?”
“He is like my family. I have seen what life has done to him and how he has triumphed on so many levels. He has been loyal to me, also.”
“But, if I’m to interpret the box correctly, he’s done some terrible things.”
“Ms. – I mean, Claire, we have all done some terrible things. That doesn’t mean we aren’t capable of good. You’ve shown me that, too.”
As Claire was about to respond, they both heard the approaching footsteps. Coming from the house, Tony advanced carrying a large satchel. His concerned expression mellowed when his dark eyes met Claire’s. Abruptly, Catherine stood.
“Catherine.” His one word greeting could easily be interpreted as a reprimand.
“Tony,” Claire reached for him. “What do you have?”
Slowly, his piercing gaze left Catherine and turned toward Claire. She watched the light overtake the dark and a smile emerge. “I see you’re wearing the hiking boots.”
“Well, yes, you promised a walk,” Claire responded.
“I have our lunch. Shall we picnic at your lake?”
Catherine said, “I will leave you two to your afternoon.” Her eyes pleaded at Claire before she nodded and turned away.
“I hope I remember the way.” Claire said as they began walking toward the trees.
“Did I interrupt something?” he asked.
“Girl talk. I’ve missed Catherine terribly.” With a tightening in her stomach brought on by concern for the woman she held dear, Claire hoped Tony’s lack of response meant this conversation was done.
She did remember the way. With each step the directions came back to her. When the trees opened to her meadow, Claire sighed with relief. Everything was just as she’d remembered. The shadowed fringes contained remnants of morning glories the color of the Iowa sky. Daisies and mustard plants added yellow and golden highlights to the otherwise green clearing. Although Tony and Claire talked during their hike, they also enjoyed the quiet serenity of nature.
The buzz of the occasional insect and the rustle of the leaves above, brought on by the gentle wind, filled their ears. As they neared the lake, Claire noticed the fresh aroma of the water penetrating her lungs with each breath.
The new boots she’d found in the well-stocked closet stood upon the pebbles of the lake’s edge while the waves lapped the shore. Out over the water, the sun shone in sparkling prisms like colored flashes above the rippled lake. Tony squeezed her hand and whispered, “It’s as beautiful as I remember.”
“Have you been here – recently?”
“No, I’d be lost without you.” Claire wondered if he meant he’d be lost in the woods or if the statement held deeper meaning.
They laid the blanket upon the shore and unpacked the lunch. She made no attempt to hide her ravenous hunger. Claire blamed her appetite on the exercise.
Later in the afternoon as the warmth continued to build, Claire took off her shoes and socks and ventured into the water. The soft underwater terrain squished beneath her toes. The warm sun on her skin and the cool water on her feet created the perfect balance.
“We could swim?” Tony offered.
“I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”
“Me either,” he managed with a sultry grin. Claire laughed and declined his offer. Instead, they lounged on the blanket in their shorts. As the sun’s rays intensified, Tony removed his shirt. Claire found the view from the blanket very enjoyable.
No man chooses evil because it is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks.
—Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
Chapter 45
September 1989
Anton eased his rental car in the parking space at the Royal Hotel on Century Boulevard. Thankfully the low watt overhead lights did little to brighten the shabby cracked asphalt lot. Even if he tried, he couldn’t ignore the beat-up old automobiles filling many of the available spaces. With the demise of his family’s fortune, Anton had fallen. He was extremely thankful he hadn’t fallen this far. And under normal circumstances he’d never step into the likes of this flea infested hotel.
It was a place where whores and junkies rented rooms by the hour. For some it was a living, for others – their death. It was the last place in Santa Monica anyone would expect a Rawls to stay. For that reason and that reason alone, it is where Anton safely stowed his step-grandmother.
Technically, Marie wasn’t his step-grandmother any longer. Nathaniel suffered a massive heart attack four months ago. His death came two months before the completion of his sentence. The news sent shock waves through Anton’s family like a 7.0 earthquake.
Prior to Nathaniel’s passing, Samuel Rawls sought legal declaration voiding his father’s marriage to Catherine Marie London. While few states allowed third party challenges to marriage, New York had a unique rule allowing the ability to annul a marriage and defeat the property consequences of said marriage. Both Nathaniel and Marie fought Samuel’s efforts. Despite Nathaniel’s incarceration, his power managed to keep Samuel’s allegations out of court.
Although Samuel never visited his father in the minimum security prison, the moment he learned of Nathaniel’s passing, his attorney successfully filed the necessary paperwork. Because Samuel had begun the annulment prior to his father’s death, the legal action survived.
In order to void a marriage, one of the following situations must be proven: fraud, duress, mental incompetence (either permanent or temporary), undue influence, sham, jest, and underage (voidable in a majority of jurisdictions). Samuel’s suit claimed mental incompetence and undue influence.
It wasn’t property from the marriage Samuel sought. Most of the family assets were gone, seized by the federal government. Rawls Corporation was sold. It no longer existed as a whole but parted out to many different procurers. The contents of the large home in upstate New Jersey were auctioned to the highest bidders, and the estate now belonged to a prominent sports star. The resulting proceeds sat in trusts, waiting to be funneled to those wronged investors. Of course, the attorneys would take their share first. What was left would eventually make its way to the people taking part in the claims and various class action suits.
Thankfully, Samuel wasn’t aware of Nathaniel’s overseas money. Samuel’s main objective was Marie’s name. His case was only to strip Rawls from her title. Vindictive, yes, but Samuel Rawls learned from the best. In one bold move, he punished Marie for replacing his mother and Nathaniel for wronging their family.
Anton tried to act as mediator. His father was not receptive. It didn’t matter to Samuel that Marie loved his father, that she had sat through every minute of his trial, and that she visited Nathaniel every week for twenty-two months.
Nathaniel had always been gruff and commanding, but there were times a softer side emerged. In Anton’s memory those instances usually involved his grandmother or Marie. Anton remembered one of his last visits with his grandfather. They were in the dingy pale green visitor’s room, and Nathaniel was giving Anton business advice.
“Boy, when I’m out of here we’re going to start new.”
“Yes, Sir, I told you about the project I’m working on with a friend.”
Nathaniel answered, “Yes, something about computers and getting information fast.”
“Yes, it’s called a search engine. We have some great ideas...”
“I don’t know about that. I do know you need money to make money. I know you can begin this start-up computer search thing and when it hits – move on. Buy, invest, sell, and just remember, it’s the bottom line. Your father always worried about people.” Nathaniel stood and paced behind the table. A habit he had when he was thinking, especially when the subject agitated him. It reminded Anton of watching a caged lion. “Where are those damn people now?” Nathaniel asked. Not waiting for a response, he continued, “They’re gone! They don’t give a damn about me, Marie, you, or even your damn parents. Do you think any of them give a shit if you have the money to grow this idea of yours?”
“No, Sir, but that doesn’t matter. I will make this work.”
“Damn right, but it is money that will help you. I’ve spoken with Marie about this. Regarding the money we’ve discussed, you can use as much as you need to get your project working. When I’m out of here, I’ll help with the growing, investing, and selling. Be smart, boy. If you have too much, the damn feds will be on you before you know it.”
“Thank you, sir. But I can’t take Marie’s money.”
“I know your father thinks very little of her. But that woman is one mighty remarkable woman. She doesn’t care about the money. Just don’t let your father get to her. I’m an old man. It helps me to know she has you on the outside to take care of her, if things get too rough.”
“I will do that, sir.”
*****
As Anton walked in the shadows toward room 12 A, he thought about how rough things had become. He never expected this family feud to end this way, but he wasn’t completely surprised.
When he came to Santa Monica to visit his parents, Anton wanted to discuss the recent ruling successfully voiding Marie’s marriage. He wasn’t relishing the idea of listening to his parents’ victory speech.
Anton wanted to stop the law suit; he tried. By tolerating the ruling to pass, he felt he’d disappointed his grandfather. He’d hoped this visit could bring about a compromise. Samuel had made his point. Now that Marie was planning on appealing the decision, perhaps Samuel could allow her to proceed.
Anton never had the chance to talk to his father or his mother. When he entered their bungalow three days ago, he found them dead. Immediately, Anton knew Marie had made it there first.
Her rendition of events was not too farfetched, if you knew the history. According to Marie, she went to their home to talk. It was Samuel who exploded first. He ordered her off his property. When she refused and asked to explain, Amanda entered the conversation. Supporting her husband, she told Marie to leave. It was Marie’s second time to attempt this discussion. More than anything, she wanted to make them understand.
Marie was determined to talk until they listened. Amanda was the one to surprise Marie with a gun. Marie’s memories were fuzzy after that. There was a struggle. She didn’t intend to kill them, but once Samuel was shot, Marie knew if either lived, she’d be arrested. She couldn’t endure what Nathaniel had in prison; she just couldn’t. The combination of pent-up rage, years of degradation, fear and self-preservation all fueled Marie’s ability to stage the final scene. She knew the exuberance of the gun shots nullified the murder/suicide theory. Yet, Marie hoped the scene she staged would aid in that notion.
Next, Marie turned up their television and cleaned away evidence of their scuffle. Her finger prints were wiped away. By all accounts she was still in New York. She’d driven the three thousand miles in her own old Honda, using cash along the way. There were no records of her traveling to California. No one knew she was there, except Anton.
Opening the door of 12 A, Anton entered the small stale hotel room. The stench of old tobacco and bodily fluids filled Anton’s senses. It was enough to quench any desire he’d previously had of food. Nonetheless, he brought food from a local drive through. Placing the bag and cups on the small table, he said, “I brought this for you.”
“Anton, I want to get out of this dump. When will it be safe for me to leave?”
He paced the only space large enough to take more than three steps, near the end of the bed. He considered sitting; however, the filth and stains on the furniture quickly changed his mind. “A few more days. I’ve been talking to the police and making all the necessary arrangements. So far the neighbor, Chester, is cooperating. He made one statement that first night to some cop. After that, he conveniently forgot about my father’s sister’s visit.”
“It’s going to cost money to keep him quiet, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but I’ve negotiated. It won’t all be up front, more of a yearly settlement.”
“Did he agree?” Marie asked.
“I’m a very good negotiator. He understands – sudden wealth brings questions. This will be mutually beneficial. Over time his payments will increase and it assures us of his future cooperation.”
Marie stood before Anton. He looked at the woman his grandfather loved. She looked so much older than three years his senior. Her tired gray eyes cried out in anguish over the events of the past few months. She’d lost her husband, her name, and now her money. Anton knew he could turn her in to the police and go on with his life. Marie knew that too.
“I will repay you for this.” She said, with her eyes lowered trying not to notice the grime on the worn carpet. Marie continued, “I know you are doing this for Nathaniel, not for me. But, I thank you.”
He lifted her chin; she was his grandfather’s wife. She needed to act as such. “You are right. And you are a Rawls; don’t ever look down like that. I am the one who failed him by not stopping my father’s law suit. I will not fail him again.”
“I came to your family as hired help. I am not above doing that again. I can work for you.”
Anton stared. His mind filled with memories of his family. He remembered the dinners in the grand dining room – his grandfather, grandmother, father, mother, Marie, and him. How had it come down to just the two of them? “I’m not sure how this arrangement will work. I don’t exactly have need for household staff at this point.”
“You will.” In the midst of total chaos, Marie’s tone rang with confidence. “You are Nathaniel’s grandson. You will succeed. I have no doubt.”
Anton remembered Nathaniel’s evaluation: She is mighty remarkable. He replied, “I will not abandon you. In a few more days we should be able to move you. Once we get you back to New York, we will create a timeline, an iron clad alibi for your whereabouts during my parent’s death. The future will work itself out.”
“It will, Anton. I have confidence in you.” She reached for his shoulders, there was no sexual attraction. They were family. Marie felt as if she were looking into Nathaniel’s eyes each time she stared into Anton’s deep dark irises. The touch was merely a point of contact. They were together in this mess and bound forever by Nathaniel. “You know, your grandfather had plans for after his release. I’ve had a lot of time to think about those during these past few days.”
“He told me.” Her determination impressed Anton.
“I can help. I want to help. Truly I didn’t intend to kill your parents, but I’m not sorry they’re gone. I could lie and tell you I am. But, I won’t.” Anton nodded. “There are others who assisted in putting Nathaniel in prison, your father was but one.”
“I have names. However, this will take time and money.”
Marie smiled, “I have time. You make us more money.”
