Текст книги "Truth "
Автор книги: Aleatha Romig
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Текущая страница: 35 (всего у книги 42 страниц)
Anger is not the opposite of love, for the opposite of love is indifference. To be angry is to care tremendously.
—Doris Moreland Jones
Chapter 50
January 2011...
Tony woke with a start; his wife, for just over a month, rolled from his shoulder to her side. In the silence he heard Claire’s soft rhythmic breathing. She was sleeping peacefully – a far cry from earlier. Closing his eyes he remembered their night, their words, and her tears. When they went to bed everything was fine. Then out of nowhere she said told him she was bored and wanted to join him on business trips. Normally he’d like that, but lately nothing was normal; he had too many fires to count. Fires Claire never would or could understand.
Truthfully, he’d been holding so much in lately, so many issues: Rawlings Industries, Sophia Rossi – no Burke, and John Vandersol.
Lifting his head to his elbow, he watched her. Tony couldn’t fathom how someone so seemingly compliant could so easily incite his emotions. He could keep his cool in the middle of chaos; yet, a few simple words from her and his reactions were uncontrollable. No, Tony thought, not uncontrollable. He’d gone there once – he wouldn’t go there again.
Then why did she need to remind him? Her insolent question... when he told her she had invitations, but he had chosen not to share them, explaining he wanted her safe from more accidents... she had the audacity to ask ... from whom? Tony’s body trembled with pent-up anger – from whom? He knew what she was implying. Of course, she said, from whom were the invitations... but Tony knew what she meant – from whom would an accidents occur. It wasn’t like he didn’t think about that every damn day! He’d never regretted his actions more, but you can’t turn back time.
There was something about Claire, something about her veiled assertiveness, something which provoked Tony like no one else. She could bring out the best in him. No question, as he watched her petite body curl into a ball and snuggle into the soft pillow, he wanted to please her. Not just please, love – indulge – spoil and pamper her, beyond her greatest dreams. However, she could also elicit the worst in him. Tonight was no exception.
Damn, if he didn’t want to wake her and tell her he was sorry – explain she was experiencing his frustration with so many other things. He thought about her words, Thank you, I’d really like to see Courtney and Sue. She had the uncanny ability to say the right thing. Nevertheless, he questioned her sincerity... could she be playing him? Had he fallen victim to her persuasion? Is that why he offered Phoenix?
Tony slid out of bed, stood silently, and watched as Claire remained sleeping. He wouldn’t be as cautious upstairs, but he wanted to leave the room. Ironically, it was her desire to leave which escalated tonight’s emotion. Nonetheless, if she were awake, he couldn’t leave her in his suite – alone. Her rhythmic breathing continued. Tony eased himself into a pair of nylon shorts and a t-shirt and quietly entered the corridor.
His bare feet padded the marble hall into the foyer, past the grand stairs, and toward his office. The path was dark, yet he knew every step. Quietly, he eased himself into the confines of his grand office, pushed the switch, and illuminated the room.
Bored! She said she was bored. Tony tried to push Claire from his thoughts. He hit the mouse and watched his desktop come to life. Searching his private inbox, he found the email he’d been anticipating:
To: Anthony Rawlings
From: Cameron Andrews
Date: January 26, 2011
Re: Ms. Burke
Although Ms. Burke is now living in Boston in her husband’s apartment, I’ve just confirmed they made an offer on a small cottage in Provincetown, Mass. I’ll notify you immediately if their offer is accepted.
Derek Burkes’ employment record is straight forward. I’ve attached his dossier. I will continue to monitor. Please inform me if you would like my activities to change in any way. CA
Tony fired of a response:
To: Cameron Andrews
From: Anthony Rawlings
Date: January 27, 2011
Re: Ms. Rossi-Burke
Let me know the value of the cottage and their offer.
He hit send.
Tony rubbed his temples and silently berated himself. He’d looked away for a couple of weeks. A couple of weeks to marry and honeymoon and everything changed – Sophia married! She wasn’t even seeing anyone when he went to her art show in New England, the beginning of December, just two weeks before his own wedding.
Closing his eyes, he remembered seeing her across the room. She was stunning, wearing a long red gown with sparkling, dangling earrings which hung to her shoulders. It wasn’t a style he’d like on Claire, but they looked beautiful on Sophia. Her people skills were constantly improving; her gray eyes looked confident and steadfast.
Then a month later, she not only married; she married Derek Burke.
Derek Burke wasn’t a large blip on Tony’s radar screen, but Tony knew of him. When Sherman Nichols, aka Cole Mathews, worked to bring Nathaniel Rawls and all of Rawls Corporation down, he was assisted by Jonathon Burke, a securities officer. Their testimony, along with Anton’s father’s, hammered the final nails in Nathaniel’s coffin, literally, as far as Tony was concerned.
Nathaniel’s quest was to return the favor – to bring down these men and their families. Sherman had one son, Jordon, who had two daughters, Emily and Claire. Jonathon had one daughter, Allison. Though married, she had no children. Well, at first they thought she had a daughter, Cindy. It later turned out Cindy wasn’t her biological child, but rather the child of her husband’s sister. All very complicated – the first miscue on their road to fulfilling Nathaniel’s quest; after Allison and her husband tragically perished in a hiking accident, Cindy was left alone. Marie reached out, posing as one of Allison’s old friends. Since that time, Cindy has worked on the estate. All of her needs were met: college tuition, (she was currently taking online courses) clothes, and housing. She has also accumulated a nice nest egg. Never would Cindy suspect her saviors were anything but.
The direct line of Jonathon Burke was gone.
Nevertheless, the reason Derek Burke was on Tony’s radar was in reality Cindy was his cousin; Derek’s grandfather was Jonathon’s brother. In the past month, Tony had spent a great deal of time learning more about Derek Burke. A few of Tony’s recent trips weren’t business at all. He couldn’t very well take Claire to watch the new Mr. and Mrs. Burke in person.
Tony’s observation: Derek was nothing like Sophia – their relationship wouldn’t last.
Past suitors were tested, induced with great temptations. All failed. Sophia may have interpreted it as personal failure; however, Tony believed he was only accelerating the future, in essence, saving her from greater heartache. He needed to decide how to do the same with Derek; test him, before it was too late. This would take time.
After all, just because, Tony allowed his defenses to wane, he couldn’t allow Sophia’s rash decision to change his ultimate plans. Her art career was finally receiving warranted attention. She truly had talent. He even owned many of her pieces. They were displayed in New York, Phoenix, and Dallas... if he remembered correctly. It didn’t seem right to have her work displayed at the estate. Damn, if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with Claire...
Leaning back in his luxurious leather chair, Tony’s mind slipped back to his wife. He didn’t regret marrying her; it surprised him how much he usually enjoyed being with her. In the past, beautiful women had their purpose, like anything else: a nice car, a priceless antique... It took Tony awhile to realize Claire was different, not someone to use when he wanted and forget until the desire returned. No, she wasn’t like one of his many expensive cars. And she wasn’t just a beautiful ornament to have on his arm at functions, although she played that role to perfection.
Tony’s realization hit months ago when he realized it didn’t matter if she were dressed in designer gowns with perfect hair and perfect makeup or newly awake with no makeup and tussled hair. He no longer saw the difference. For a man who valued outward appearance as much as Anthony Rawlings, that insight was shocking.
When he first brought her to the estate, he never intended to enjoy her, much less love her. Truthfully, it was initially determined she and her sister would have accidents, much sooner – years sooner, like their parents. However, as he began following Claire and her life, there was an undeniable attraction. Then at her parent’s funeral for no particular reason, Tony fought the urge to comfort her. At that moment, he knew he wanted her for himself. Truthfully, Emily’s survival has been a byproduct.
As a man who makes money – lots of money, buying and selling – rarely does Anthony Rawlings become emotionally vested in projects or people. Initially, he saw Claire the same way; however, after his acquisition, as weeks and months passed, despite her situation, she worked her way into his being – into every fiber. Her strength to meet him with eyes on fire while her words and body appeased, fascinated Tony. Never had anyone done that.
Smiling, he recalled their amazing honeymoon. The isolation of the island paradise kept he and Claire within the confines of a private bubble. Yet, as always, life intervenes. Back to Iowa meant disruptions. Being a multibillion dollar company, there were always issues with Rawlings Industry. The stock price was up, but there were always fires in need of dousing. A recent acquisition in Missouri was currently raging.
On top of Rawlings Industries and Sophia, Tony had to deal with John Vandersol. The man absolutely infuriated Tony. Never had he met a more arrogant, self-righteous prick. Tony did his research. He knew John was accomplished. Every account Tony uncovered was flattering – some to the point of nausea. It was hard to believe anyone could be as perfect as everyone’s account of John Vandersol.
During their first meeting, Tony was determined to play nice, for Claire. It was after all, his olive branch to his fiancée. Thanksgiving went well. The ladies didn’t seem to recognize the subtle feather ruffling and posturing which occurred on multiple occasions.
He tried to endure John because of Emily, Claire’s sister. Tony knew Claire wanted to see her family. He also knew Claire obeyed his rules while alone with her sister. After all, he listened intently to the recordings of each private conversation; from their after dinner catch-up in New York, to their giggling girls’ sleep over prior to the wedding. Never once did Claire allude to her and Tony’s less than conventional beginning. He was extremely proud of his wife’s obedience.
Allowing his mind to change directions, perhaps Claire had earned the right to spend some time away from the estate. He would reconsider that possibility.
Rubbing his temples, Tony contemplated John Vandersol’s future as he remembered the man’s past. Their first open disagreement occurred the night following Thanksgiving, regarding the prenuptial agreement. Tony was both amused and shocked by John’s impudence. The man actually thought he could persuade Claire to defy Tony’s authority. Smiling to himself, Tony knew he’d trained Claire too well. Public defiance from his wife wasn’t a concern. Nonetheless, John’s audacity agitated Tony beyond words.
And then there was the wedding rehearsal – where John didn’t give Claire away. It was at that moment, as Tony stared into Claire’s anxious eyes, when Tony determined John Vandersol will pay. This insolent man not only upset him, but his words caused Tony’s future wife distress. Her connection with John was his only saving grace. By causing her discomfort, at her own wedding rehearsal, John secured his own demise.
Tony’s first plan was brilliant: offer John a job. It appeared as though Tony was taking the high road, recognizing John’s superior legal abilities, offering him an exorbitant amount of money and pleasing Claire. It was win – win. Rawlings Industries could always use another competent attorney, but he’d be under Tony’s thumb.
Nonetheless, in the ultimate act of defiance, John Vandersol refused Tony’s offer. It was an act which has infuriated Tony ever since he learned of it two weeks ago. He hadn’t told Claire until a few hours ago.
Tony was certain Claire understood the implications (her ability to see her sister now or in the future was in serious jeopardy) without Tony spelling them out. That was good because the thought of his wife’s family caused his blood to boil, and it was truly better for Claire, if he didn’t experience that feeling while in her presence.
Tony poured himself a drink, perhaps it would help him sleep. Pacing the confines of his regal office he contemplated his wife further. He thought about Catherine’s words. She claimed Claire’s strength in the face of Tony’s adversity was proof of Claire’s true competence. Truly, Catherine’s encouragement regarding their relationship helped propel it beyond the original plan. Catherine claimed she saw Nathaniel’s positive qualities in Tony when he was with Claire. Comparing him to Nathaniel was no small compliment. Catherine’s approval of Claire continued to mean a great deal to Tony.
That was why Tony wanted Claire at the estate, safe, with Catherine to watch over her. With Rawlings Industries, Sophia, and John Vandersol, Tony didn’t need to be concerned about Claire, too. Her role as Mrs. Rawlings had just begun. And admittedly, in most situations, she’d done well. However, there were a few occasions she’d forgotten the significance of her new title. He didn’t want to spend his days worrying how her actions reflected upon him.
Claire said she wasn’t a spouse or a partner. That wasn’t true. He wanted her as both... however; Anthony Rawlings never shared control. His percentage always held more weight... therefore; it didn’t matter if she was bored: if he wanted her at the estate – that was where she would be.
All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.
—Anatole France
Chapter 51
“Ms. Nichols, we’re almost to Palo Alto.” Grace’s voice penetrated Claire’s dream, resounding through the hum of engines. “Ms. Nichols, please return your seat to its upright position.”
Claire opened her eyes, seeing the luxurious interior of Tony’s private plane and the nice copilot standing before her. Recognizing she’d slept the entire flight, Claire slowly obeyed. She nodded at Grace as she pushed the appropriate buttons and returned her lounge to its chair position. It was true; no commercial seat, even in first class, could provide the comfort and serenity Claire had just enjoyed for over four hours.
As wakefulness came, so did hunger. Earlier in the afternoon she enjoyed one of her favorite meals: grilled salmon, asparagus, salad, and red potatoes. And since Tony claimed not to have requested the delicious menu, they both suspected Catherine. Nevertheless, as Claire adjusted her watch to Pacific Time, she realized dinner was over five hours ago. Contemplating her future, she wondered if the twisting in her stomach was hunger or the thought of her impending discussion with Harry and her future travel plans next Friday morning.
Claire wanted to talk with Harry, be honest, and explain her thoughts. The problem with her plan – Claire didn’t know her own thoughts. Harry deserved honesty; she wasn’t completely sure what that entailed. She truly never meant to lead him on – she liked him. Perhaps no one would believe her, but up until recently, she never expected to even consider allowing Tony back into her life. Even now she didn’t know if their charade was an act or if real feelings were emerging.
From the moment Tony left her in the jail in Iowa, she thought they were ancient history. If she didn’t, would she have spent hours upon hours sitting with Meredith Banks recounting some of the most horrific times of her life? Would she have spent day after day researching Tony’s family history? No – no, she wouldn’t.
And when he blackmailed her at the gala, she had no intentions to truly reconcile. It was all a sham. But ... Claire had to admit, there were moments... flashes of feelings. She tried to ignore them. Unfortunately, the press didn’t. Harry was right about some of the pictures; Claire wasn’t that good of an actress. The look in her eyes couldn’t be feigned. Nonetheless, that didn’t mean she wanted reconciliation. Well, not until... the little blue plus and pulsating black dot appeared.
If Claire allowed herself to somehow look past Tony’s faults and peer into the man who claimed never ending love, she could see his good. She could see what Catherine wanted her to see; he was trying.
As the plane descended, Claire struggled with her wedding portrait. Tony left her alone at the jail and stared at her every night above his fireplace. It didn’t make sense. And when she noticed it, he seemed surprised, obviously accustomed to its presence. She attempted to understand what he and Catherine tried to explain. Tony said he did what he did to save her – from him. Catherine explained Tony made two promises; he tried to keep one in a way as to also keep the other. Was that the loop-hole he mentioned? In San Francisco, after the gala, Tony reminded Claire of his promise to love her forever, made in front of family and friends. Claire needed to know the specifics of his other promise and confirm to whom it was made. Was it his grandfather, as she’d suspected, or the woman in the blue Honda?
Claire closed her eyes and contemplated Brent’s recent information: Burke, the same name as the securities officer. Could Tony possibly be doing the same thing to someone else – like he did to her? Claire knew one thing for sure; no one else was in her suite.
Didn’t she owe it to herself and to their child to give this reconciliation a try? How could she possibly explain all of that to Harry? He knew the truth about Tony’s past behaviors. The night of the gala Harry was upset and said hurtful things. Nevertheless, Claire doubted he could ever treat someone the way he treated her in the beginning. How could she make anyone understand she would willingly choose Tony over Harry?
As the plane came to a stop on the tarmac, Claire stood. Her stomach knotted in anticipation of their conversation. Suddenly, she remembered the second part of her week – John and Emily’s arrival tomorrow. If her impending conversation with Harry would be difficult, talking to her family would be impossible. Feeling light headed, Claire sat down against the plush seat and closed her eyes.
“Ms. Nichols, are you well? You’re very pale.”
Claire peered toward Grace’s concerned expression, “I think I just stood too fast.”
“Yes, ma’am. We’ll have your luggage out to you in a few minutes.”
“Thank you,” Claire said as the door began to open. Remaining seated she inhaled the fresh air and returned her iPhone to normal. There were three text messages. The first one was from Tony, sent just as she left Iowa: OH, BUT HOW I WOULD LOVE FOR YOU TO ELABORATE! The color quickly returned to her cheeks.
The second was received only a few minutes ago. I’M HERE, from Harry.
The third came immediately after Harry’s. YOU SHOULD BE LANDING, PLEASE LET ME KNOW YOU HAVE ARRIVED SAFELY, from Tony.
With the fresh air filling the cabin, Claire quickly replied to the third text: JUST LANDED. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR EVERYTHING. I SLEPT THE ENTIRE FLIGHT... VERY COMFORTABLE WITHOUT ALL THAT RECYCLED AIR! Smiling she hit send.
The comfortable California breeze refreshed Claire as she stood at the door atop the steps. Looking around she saw Harry standing casually near one of the hangers. Immediately, she recognized his blonde hair moving slightly in the breeze. Her eyes moved from there to his well-fitted black t-shirt tucked casually into the slim waist of his faded jeans. Claire remembered telling Courtney about Harry, describing him as the anti-Tony. That was so true and yet not. Both were incredibly accomplished, strong men. Tonight’s conversation would be much easier if Claire could in some way blame Harry. However, she knew none of this was Harry’s fault.
She smiled his direction and he nodded, stepping toward her as she descended the stairs.
*****
Sitting behind his large mahogany desk, Tony tried in vain to read the documents on his computer. The words entered his mind and disappeared before he could digest their meaning. He watched the clock in the corner of his monitor. Finally the iPhone to his right sounded and vibrated upon the smooth glossy surface. Hastily he swiped the screen. 1 Text Message: JUST LANDED. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR EVERYTHING. I SLEPT THE ENTIRE FLIGHT... VERY COMFORTABLE WITHOUT ALL THAT RECYCLED AIR! He smiled at her cheekiness. Maybe the recycled air was a stretch, but he would undoubtedly prefer her in Iowa to California. Nevertheless, they made progress this weekend. They both knew it. His phone sounded and vibrated again. 1 Text Message: MS. NICHOLS PLANE JUST LANDED. MR. BALDWIN WAITING AND LUGGAGE BEING PUT INTO HIS CAR. I WILL FOLLOW.
Tony’s neck muscles tightened. Does picking her up at the airport constitute a date? Tony tried to tell himself it didn’t. Besides, would he rather have her in a taxi with some stranger? They spent four days together, made love on three different occasions, and have a baby coming. While reasoning words went through his thoughts, the clenched jaws and tightened shoulders revealed the jealousy cursing through his veins.
Tony replied to Phillip Roach: KEEP HER IN SIGHT. LET ME KNOW IF THERE ARE ANY STOPS ON THE WAY TO THE CONDO. WHERE IS THAT PICTURE? He hit send. Text message number two, to Claire: OUR AGREEMENT FORBIDS PUBLIC EXPOSURE WITH ANYONE ELSE! I THOUGHT I’D MADE THAT CLEAR! WE HAVE AN UNDERSTANDING! (Exclamation marks were so often overused in text messages.) Tony hesitated. He repeatedly hit the backspace key.
He typed once again: IM GLAD THE AIR WAS TO YOUR LIKING. REMEMBER OUR AGREEMENT. CALL WHEN YOU’RE SETTLED. The restraint was difficult, but he knew he wasn’t going to win her back without effort. The damn press would have a field day if they saw her with Mr. Baldwin, but Tony reminded himself to do what he’d told her to do – trust. Exhaling he tried. It was especially difficult if you’d never done it before.
The sound and vibration announced another arriving text message: THE PICTURE WAS SENT TO YOUR EMAIL. LET ME KNOW IF YOU DON’T HAVE IT.
Shit, Tony had been trying to read the acquisition documents and forgot to check his email. He switched screens. There was the email from Phillip Roach with attachment. He opened the attachment. The photo quality was poor, obviously enlarged too many times, creating a very grainy image. Tony pushed the plush carpet with his feet, as his leather chair moved away from the screen hoping for a clearer picture. He saw a man with little to no hair. Was he older and balding or younger with his head shaved? Looking closer Tony guessed the man was older. Normally, Tony was excellent with names and faces. He saw a hint of familiarity, but Tony couldn’t remember why. Perhaps it had been a long time since he’d seen him, or maybe he’d been on television or in the news. Regardless, the twinge of recognition made Tony uncomfortable. Why would someone he recognized be stealing Claire’s laptop?
Two more text messages came through his iPhone. The first one, from Claire: I DO. I WILL LATER. Tony exhaled. It took every fiber of self-restraint to not get on another plane and go get her. Second message, from Phillip Roach: DID YOU GET THE EMAIL? I CAN RESEND.
*****
On a Sunday night the light traffic around Palo Alto flowed well. Nevertheless, within Harry’s Mustang their polite conversation was strained through the dense unspoken tension. Harry asked, “How was the wedding?”
Claire told him about Caleb, Julia, Courtney, and Brent and how nice it was to talk openly. She rambled about one thing and another, avoiding their impending discussion.
As the tension began to wane, Harry asked, “Would you like to get something to eat?”
Claire thought about it. She was hungry. Yet, Tony’s reminder about their agreement came to mind. Even more deterring was the thought of her and Harry’s future talk. “I think I’d like to order something to the condo,” she said, as they neared the four story building. “It will be more private, and we need to talk.”
Harry eyed her suspiciously, “Talk?”
Claire exhaled. “Oh, come on. You have more questions than you’re politely asking. I think we need to be honest about what’s going on.”
“I thought we were.”
Claire exhaled. “Please, I need to tell you a few things.”
“Maybe I don’t want to hear them.” Harry waved at the security guard as he pulled the Mustang into the underground parking garage. “Hey, there’s a van in your spot.” Harry noticed as they wove around to his assigned parking spot. “I don’t remember seeing that before. I could call...” He hesitated, “or maybe you should call security and have it moved.”
Claire didn’t care about the stupid van. She wouldn’t have her car back from the airport until tomorrow. “If it’s here in the morning I will. It’s probably someone’s guest who doesn’t know about the assigned spots.” She looked at his light blue eyes, “Please, can we order some delivery and talk?”
“Yeah, fine.” He got out of the car and began removing her bags from his trunk. “My place or yours?”
Claire pulled the smaller bag, while Harry pulled the larger. Stepping into the elevator she replied, “How about yours?” She reasoned it would be easier for her to leave if things got too uncomfortable. “I’ll take my bags in and freshen up. Then I’ll be over.”
“Don’t forget, your room’s a mess.”
She had forgotten. There were too many things competing for space in her head. “Oh yeah, I’ll do a quick inventory and let you know if I think anything else is missing.”
Harry walked Claire to her door and let go of her large suitcase. “Are you sure you’re okay seeing your room by yourself?”
Claire shrugged. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why don’t you call for some food?” She thought a moment as she unlocked her door, “Just no sushi, all right?”
Harry’s blue eyes squinted, allowing his amazingly long lashes to linger near his cheeks, and his head tilted to the side. “But you like sushi,” seeing her wrinkled nose he asked, “How about Chinese?”
She nodded. “Chinese sounds great. Extra rice,” she added with a smile.
*****
Parked across the street from 365 Forest Avenue in his nondescript grey Camry, Phillip watched the lights turn on in the large windows on the fourth floor. He typed the text message while engaging his laptop. MS NICHOLS ARRIVED TO CONDO. NO STOPS ON WAY. He checked his laptop. The sensors would indicate if only her apartment opened or if both hers and Mr. Baldwin’s opened. The sensors were new, but with the recent break-in and an unlimited budget, no piece of technology was beyond his scope.
There must be something wrong with his sensors. Yes, Claire’s door just opened and now Mr. Baldwin’s door opened. However, the data indicated Claire’s door also opened twenty minutes ago. Phillip’s heart raced as he looked up toward the windows. He pulled out his phone; Mr. Rawlings answered on the first ring. Common pleasantries disappeared, “I just read my sensors. She’s in her unit and it was opened twenty minutes ago.” Phil’s voice came with deep breaths as he raced across the street.
Ignoring Mr. Rawlings’ bellowing voice, Phil hastily entered Claire’s building and approached the security desk, “Has anyone been to unit 4 A recently?” The security guard looked at Phil questionably. Phil repeated himself louder, “The unit that was broken into last week? Has anyone been up there?” Phil could still hear Mr. Rawlings yelling through the phone.
“Yes, there was a delivery. The man had the appropriate documents.”
Phil revealed the picture he’d sent Mr. Rawlings, “Is this the man?”
The security guard looked at the picture, “I don’t know. He had documents. Yeah, maybe... he was bald.”
“Call 911 and get me up there right away!” Phil’s voice rose above Mr. Rawlings’.
*****
Tony could hear everything and do nothing. How long would it take to get up four flights? He disconnected from Phillip Roach and scrolled his contacts, finding Harrison Baldwin. He hit call.
*****
Claire pulled her luggage into the foyer. She’d forgotten about her room being a mess. Maybe Tony didn’t have anything to do with it. If that were the case, she was glad she’d been out of town when it happened. Suddenly, she wished Amber were home.
Turning on lights, she headed toward the kitchen. Even though Harry was calling for dinner, she thought a little snack might help her nerves before she faced her wrecked room and their conversation. She watched as the overhead lights flooded the living room and darkened the outside world beyond the large windows.
Which occurred first, the sound of his footsteps or sensing his presence? Claire’s heart raced as she spun around. She recognized the man immediately – Patrick Chester, the neighbor from Santa Monica. In an attempt to hide her panic, she feigned indignation, “What are you doing in my house?”
He walked toward her, his beady eyes narrowing while his smile widened.
She repeated her question, “What are you doing in my house? Get out!”
He continued forward. She backed toward the windows and assessed an escape. If she ran through the kitchen, could she get back to the door and out before him?
“You made me think you’re Anton’s daughter.” Patrick laughed. The menacing sound made the hairs on the back of Claire’s neck prickle. “You’re not his daughter unless that’s what they call whores who seduce Sugar Daddy’s!” His volume rose with each word.
The distance between them lessened as her back pressed against the cool glass. “I never told you I was...”
