Текст книги "Truth "

Chapter 6

1980...

Anton made his way to the lower level of his family’s estate. The scene he just witnessed between his grandfather and father ran in a continual loop through his mind. With each step toward the entertainment center of the mansion, he tried desperately to forget his family and think about life back at Blair Academy. More than anything he wanted to be back on the campus of his boarding school, away from the charade he called family.

It wasn’t like he had many good friends at Blair. It would be easier if he were part of a group, if he participated in extracurricular activities. Heaven knows his stature benefitted him in the area of sports. He continued to grow taller and broader each year. Anton enjoyed intermural lacrosse and basketball. The coaches watched his obvious talent and asked him repeatedly to join one of the Blair teams. And, although his refusal met animosity from fellow students, little did they realize, it wasn’t his choice. The other boys thought he was too stuck-up to participate. The truth was, grandfather forbid participation. Of course, Anton didn’t admit that to anyone. If he did, it would show others he wasn’t allowed to make his own decisions. That wasn’t something Anton was willing to reveal. Go ahead – think Anton Rawls was a jerk; he didn’t care. He would make the only man whose opinion mattered proud. Besides, he would show those other boys one day.

Nathaniel never experienced the benefits of a private education. He wasn’t able to offer that luxury to his own son. Now, he expected his only grandson to reap the benefits only money could buy. Nathaniel expected Anton to succeed. To Nathaniel, academics should be Anton’s only focus. Therefore, it was.

Well, except for Anton’s past-time of following his family’s company. Anton may only be fifteen, but he could read financial reports, follow the NASDAQ and Dow Jones. He understood investments and could dissect quarterly reports. He never discussed this with anyone. His father treated him like a child and would never take Anton’s thoughts seriously. His grandfather was too busy to discuss business with a fifteen year old. Anton yearned for the day when he was the one on the other side of the desk, discussing profits and losses with his grandfather. Someday, Anton knew – Nathaniel would see him as his greatest asset.

Enduring his fellow students’ snide comments was better than listening to his father and grandfather’s argument. When Anton was Nathaniel’s top advisor, he fantasized they wouldn’t argue; they would work together, conspire and collaborate to make Rawls Corporation the greatest industry America ever saw. Exxon, General Motors, and Mobil wouldn’t hold a candle to the possibilities of Rawls with Nathaniel and Anton at the helm.

Just before reaching the entertainment center of the house, Anton turned the corner to meet his grandmother. “Anton, where are you headed in such a hurry?”

“Grandmother, I didn’t mean to be going so fast. I guess I’m just thinking about other things.”

“Of course you are. You’re a growing young man. You probably have a lot of things on your mind, perhaps a young woman?” Anton didn’t reply. Sharron continued, “Are you planning on watching television downstairs?”

“Yes, it’s the final season of Hawaii Five-O. I didn’t want to miss the show.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of that show. May I watch it with you?”

Anton feigned a smile, of course he wouldn’t tell her no. Nevertheless, he didn’t want her there. Not because he didn’t love his grandmother, but because she’d talk throughout the entire program. He much preferred quiet. Nonetheless, he responded, “Sure, come on down.”

Sharron followed her grandson toward the seldom used television room. Once they reached their destination, Anton turned on the large television, and Sharron settled onto the soft sofa. It was then she asked, “Nathaniel, what is it we’re watching?”

Anton exhaled and turned to his grandmother, “We are watching Hawaii Five O and I’m Anton.”

She smiled lovingly at her grandson, her expression a combination of love and confusion. Slowly the clouds passed from her gaze, and she stared directly at his deep brown eyes. “Yes, Hawaii Five O and of course Anton, why would you tell me your name? You are the light of our lives.”

He smiled. It wasn’t a smile of happiness, more a pacifying act to quiet her reasoning. He’d heard it before. She could talk her way out of any misstep. Actually, as long as he could remember she’d been doing that: saying something totally off base, or doing something weird, and justifying it, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Half way through the episode, Anton gave up on hearing the actors speak. “Grandmother, I just remembered my mother wants me upstairs. I think I should go up there.”

She smiled, “Yes, of course. Please give Margarete my love.”

He walked to the television and turned off the set. It wasn’t worth the correction or explanation. Margarete was his great-grandmother, Nathaniel’s mother. Dying before Anton’s birth, she was someone he’d never met. “I will Grandmother. I’m sure she feels the same.”

His grandmother snickered, “We both know that isn’t true. But, please tell her anyway.”

“I will.”

Anton wondered if his grandmother was talking about her relationship with her mother-in-law or her daughter-in-law. He didn’t wonder enough to question. The answer would take longer than he was willing to commit. Besides, Anton knew from experience, at the end of the conversation, his question could easily remain unanswered.

You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing you think you cannot do. 

—Eleanor Roosevelt

Chapter 7

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Courtney’s apprehension came through Claire’s newest disposable cellphone. It was her second pay as you go phone. Only Emily and Courtney had this number, and Emily had a new similar phone she used to communicate. Of course, Courtney would also only call with a pay as you go phone, and yes, she had a new one. None of these numbers could be traced back to the number Tony knew.

“If you won’t give it to me, I’ll get it some other way.” Claire’s voice rang strong and resolute.

After Claire collected herself from her meltdown in the bathroom stall the night before, she decided to meet her problem head on. Her problem: her ex-husband Anthony Rawlings.

 “Seriously Courtney, don’t you understand? I’m not going to live my life running. I won’t let him have that control. If I flee every time he’s near, he wins. I’m making a life out here. I want to live it.”

Courtney sat in her kitchen and stared into her backyard. The Iowa spring was struggling to break through the gray veil of winter. Patches of ice and snow speckled the pale remnants of lawn. In another month the grass would begin to green and life would renew. Courtney contemplated her friend; she deserved renewal too. “Claire, how will having his private number help that?”

“Because he thinks he can call and disrupt my life. The only way to stop him is to turn the tables. I need to have equal opportunity to initiate contact.”

“I guess I understand. But, don’t you think he’ll wonder how you got it? I mean – it’s blocked. I know you know that.”

“I do. I’ve seen his contact list, it has lots of people. He isn’t as isolated as he thinks. It just takes one of those many people.”

Courtney continued to watch the scene outside of her window. Near her elbows on her table sat a list of Saturday afternoon activities. Julia, her future daughter-in-law, would be over soon they had many things to accomplish before the quickly approaching wedding. Next to her half full mug of coffee was her list of proposed guests. She glanced at the list of rehearsal dinner locations and caterers. They had appointments with three of them this afternoon.

Their son, Caleb, recently started his own investment company in a Chicago suburb. It was the only plausible reason he would leave Tony’s employment. Luckily, Caleb was convincing when explaining to Tony his desire to – make it on his own. Being an entrepreneur himself, Tony actually encouraged Caleb’s independent spirit. This scenario also gave credence to the removal of some of Brent and Courtney’s Rawlings stock options. They wanted their capital to help finance their son’s endeavors. Courtney’s thoughts kept her from responding.

Claire misinterpreted the silence, “I understand. I really do. If you can’t help me, I’ll find someone else…” her disappointment audible.

“No, I will. Let me get my other phone, it’s programed in there.”

Claire quickly replied, “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

Before Courtney could respond to Claire’s gratitude, the sound of multiple voices came through Claire’s receiver. She sat cross legged on her bed fifteen hundred miles away listening to the conversation.

Courtney was so caught up in her conversation and thoughts she didn’t hear the doorbell or her husband’s voice, until he and Tony reached the kitchen.

Brent spoke first, “Look who stopped by.”

“Hello Courtney, I’m sorry for the intrusion. I was on my way home and wanted to talk to your husband for a few minutes.” His deep voice contained its usual friendly tone he used with Courtney.

She covered the phone with her hand and smiled her brightest smile, “Oh Tony, so nice to see you.” Courtney stood to give him a customary hello hug and hoped he wouldn’t notice her accelerated heart rate. “I’m just trying to finalize some wedding plans, if you two will excuse me. It’ll just take another minute.” The two men nodded and looked at the papers on the table. Brent opened the refrigerator, handed Tony a bottle of water, and noticed Courtney’s small black phone, not her usual Blackberry.

“Come on Tony, let’s go to my office. Believe me; you don’t want to be in her way when there’re wedding plans to finalize.”

Tony laughed. “That’s fine. This will only take a few minutes.” Turning back to Courtney, “It’s nice to see you.”

She nodded toward the men as they left the kitchen. Courtney grabbed her Blackberry and stepped through an archway to the sunporch, increasing the distance from her husband’s office. “Shit.” She whispered into the small telephone.

“Oh god, Courtney, I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. Let me get you the number. Just please wait until he leaves before you call.”

“I will. Honestly, I’m not sure when I’ll call. I just want to know I can.”

Momentarily, Courtney smiled as she scrolled her contacts. Looking toward the archway and back toward the kitchen, she quietly gave Claire the ten requested digits. Then she added, “I hope you know – I truly hate him for what he did to you.”

Claire nodded. “Thank you, but you’ve been his friend for a long time. I appreciate your help, but I understand…”

“No, you don’t.”

Courtney’s tone surprised Claire. Anger – fervor, she wasn’t sure she’d heard such vehemence in Courtney’s voice ever before. “Perhaps I don’t.” Maybe she’d pushed Courtney’s allegiance too far by requesting Tony’s number. “I’d better go. Thank you again.”

“Claire,” Courtney’s voice was more of a whisper, “I’d like to see you. I need to be honest with you about what I know and how I feel. It’d be better in person.”

Emotions swirled. Claire wanted to see her friend, yet part of her wondered, is she truly my friend? Hearing Tony’s voice, so casual in her kitchen, could this request be a trap? And know – what could Courtney possibly know? Claire lied to her, just like she’d lied to everyone else. Was the tone Claire heard directed at her or about Tony?

Claire reminded herself Courtney was the only person to go out of her way to communicate with Claire in prison. She was one of the few people to offer support. Claire replied, “I’d like that too. First, why don’t you concentrate on your company? We’ll work out details later.”

Courtney nodded. “You’re right about time. We’ve known him a long time. However, sometimes you know someone and still don’t truly know them. Other times you learn the truth right away.” She paused, but Claire didn’t respond, so Courtney continued, “I hope we can work it out – to get-together. We’ll talk later.”

Claire replied, and the line went dead. Courtney placed the small black slender phone in the pocket of her jeans and took the Blackberry back to the kitchen. Julia would be over soon; they had a busy afternoon ahead.

Claire stared at the number on the note pad. There it was. Now, he wouldn’t be the only one able to initiate contact. She added the number to the telephone Tony called the night before. Claire shook her head. There were three telephones before her. All she wanted was one; now she had three!

Courtney wasn’t the only person opposed to the idea of Claire calling Tony. Harry also thought it was a bad idea. Surprisingly, Amber understood Claire’s reasoning. Harry replied with the analogy of poking a bee hive with a stick.

Claire finally smiled and explained, “My dad had a friend who raised bees. We used to go and help him extract honey – fun but scary. The bees would buzz all around his garage as we worked inside getting the honey out of the combs.”

Harry and Amber listened, probably thinking the bee analogy was meant metaphorically. Claire continued, “When I was little, I was afraid to help. After all, the bees were really mad. You can’t blame them. We’re taking their honey. I remember asking dad’s friend how he got the combs out of the bee hives without getting stung. He showed me this funky hat with netting and a thick material suit and gloves, boots – you know the whole bee garb?” The other two nodded. “So don’t you get it?”

Claire watched waiting to see some realization in her friends’ eyes. When she didn’t see it, she answered her own question. “I promise not to poke the stick in the hive until I’m sure my outfit is fool proof. I don’t intend to be stung ...again.” Claire was sure she saw sparks of admiration in her friends’ eyes.

Now that she had his number, Claire needed to work on her beekeeper’s outfit. Until last night, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. California was turning out better than she ever imagined. Honestly, she’d hoped maybe she could start a new life and forget the last three years. Then the whole paradigm changed; Tony called.

Claire knew in the pit of her stomach – depths of her soul – it would never be over. He shared in his box that he’d been watching her since at least the time of her parent’s death. No, actually – if, and she still isn’t sure of this – if, he purposely lured Simon away with the job offer – he’d been watching since her freshman year of college.

Yes, Anthony Rawlings was the one who callously threw her away – left her to be incarcerated for a crime she never committed. However, multiple times she thought about his offer. Before she pleaded no contest to the charges, he offered her another out. He offered her the option to plead insanity. He even had an institution ready to take her as a patient. If she’d accepted his offer he would still to this day, possibly forever, be in control. Somehow Claire believed Tony expected her to take his option.

She grinned, realizing that without trying, she’d defied his plans. Feeling a small amount of pride, Claire grasped the unusual feeling. If she could defy Anthony Rawlings out of instinct, instead of intention and survive, it seemed the possibilities were limitless, if she put her mind to it.

Tony would never allow her to exist away from him. Somehow she needed to remove his power. Claire realized hiding from the sound of his voice, strengthened it. Conversely, the opposite would weaken it.

Last night, after returning to the table at the restaurant, Claire announced to her friends she was ready to continue the work on their quest. She currently had the time and thanks to Tony, the money. She would accept help, but without a doubt, Tony’s phone call cemented her resolve – Mr. Anthony Rawlings had a lesson to learn and Claire claimed the role as teacher.

Amber and Harry saw her red blotched face. Yet, instead of pity or even acknowledgement of her current condition, both friends smiled. Amber got up and hugged Claire, “I hope you know you have my full support and any help I can provide.”

“If you two scorned ladies will allow, I would like to be involved in this quest.” With that, Harry encircled both women in his arms. Their group hug lasted only seconds, but the common goal and support energized Claire beyond any depletion from the phone call.

This morning she woke with new purpose. Her phone call with Courtney didn’t diminish that purpose, it increased it.

As she dressed for her day, Claire marveled at again hearing her ex-husband’s voice. Twice in two days! Hearing him speak to Courtney, sounding casual and friendly, there was a time she worked diligently to keep that tone in his voice. It was refreshing to not concentrate on his feelings, but on her own.

Claire smiled at herself in the mirror. She liked her chestnut brown hair, jeans, and tennis shoes. She liked wearing very little make-up. From now on her concerns were going to be her focus!

She’d spent the last fourteen months grasping at straws of self-worth. It was a difficult process especially while in a federal penitentiary. At one time she wondered if living was worth the trouble. Today, she knew it was.

His voice, through her phone, divulged more to her than merely words. Tony had once said she knew him better than anyone. In the pit of her stomach she knew he would seek to find her. And beyond a shadow of a doubt, he’d succeed. Anthony Rawlings rarely, if ever, failed.

This reality fueled her need to suddenly become visible. Her original plan of anonymity was to avoid him. She failed. Being invisible would make her an easy target, no matter his intention. The more visible Claire Nichols was to the world, the harder it’d be to remove her. This, hopefully not too late realization, made her cheeks rise and a smile radiate beyond her lips to her green eyes.

Honestly, the prospect of seeing him, talking to him, being near him frightened her. The fear didn’t just stem from his possible actions – but, hers. Claire knew, she couldn’t predict her own actions, emotions, or responses when the time came to meet him face-to-face. Despite their history, Tony had the ability to manipulate her thoughts and beliefs. Her personal pep talks were all well and good while he remained at large. Nevertheless, Claire could not honestly predict how she would respond, when push came to shove.

She reminded herself, unlike three years ago, she now knew the rules and boundaries to his game. Rule number one, there were no boundaries. Anthony Rawlings was capable of anything and would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Yet, even Superman couldn’t overcome kryptonite. Catherine once told Claire, she had the rare opportunity to know Anthony Rawlings as few do. Claire knew his intimate beliefs. She knew his kryptonite – appearances!

She also knew without a doubt, he’d be in California. It may be days, weeks, or hell, only hours, but he would step foot on the west coast. It would happen. Claire needed to be ready, her beekeeper suit intact.

She sat on the tall stool in the kitchen, her laptop open and began to egosurf. Before she could change the perception the world possessed of her, she needed to know what that perception held. The results were nauseating.

Entering CLAIRE NICHOLS RAWLINGS into the Google search engine landed her over fifty thousand hits! She began to click and read. Yes, there was factual information: born October 17, 1985, to Jordon and Shirley Nichols. One sister, Emily Nichols Vandersol, married to John Vandersol. Claire graduated from Hamilton Heights High School in Fishers, Indiana, and obtained a Bachelor’s Degree in meteorology from Valparaiso University. She completed a one year internship in Albany, New York, and then worked for WKPZ as a meteorologist assistant in Atlanta, Georgia. After WKPZ was bought, she worked at the Red Wing, a restaurant in Atlanta, until 2010. It’s at that point the history of her life becomes mostly conjecture.

One of the few facts: on December 18, 2011, she married Anthony Rawlings. Claire had read the information before about her being a gold-digger. However, the ferocity of the newly found articles surprised her. It was as if some of these reporters were truly hell-bent on righting the wrongs done to Anthony Rawlings.

Claire scrolled numerous articles which made her every sin public knowledge. She read about her changing hair color and shopping habits. There were accurate and inaccurate reports of travels. Thinking that perhaps this was a journey she shouldn’t have taken, she clicked and discovered an unlikely ally – a redeemer of her reputation. The article appeared in Rolling Stone, February 2012, following her arrest – prior to her plea. It was entitled, Mrs. Rawlings, No longer a Mystery – But Seriously a Killer? by Meredith Banks. The article discussed Claire Nichols, the real person, student, sorority sister, daughter – grieving the loss of her parents following their tragic deaths, intern, meteorologist assistant in Atlanta, bartender . It went on to discuss the impromptu meeting in Chicago and the unlikelihood of Claire Nichols attempting to murder her husband. Meredith mentioned Claire’s hesitation to discuss her future husband. Hesitation, I didn’t discuss him! Meredith also discussed the obvious – with as much money as Anthony Rawlings possessed, why would Claire want to kill him? She used the travel, shopping, and pampering spas as evidence. Why would Claire want to kill the handsome generous husband who showered her with luxuries? She had access to all the money she wanted and Anthony was making more. Meredith concluded killing him made no sense.

Claire couldn’t help but see the irony – the first, perhaps only, positive and accurate article was written by the same woman who wrote the article eighteen months earlier which almost cost her, her life!

Claire opened another page on her laptop and Googled Meredith Banks, independent correspondent based out of Long Beach, California. The website contained her email and phone number. After a quick check of Google Maps, Claire learned Long Beach was a six and a half hour drive from her current location. She pondered that information. With Tony’s current state of mind, perhaps a 400 mile drive wasn’t a bad plan.

Claire considered her new option. She could contact Meredith. She could promise an exclusive interview. But, what was she willing to reveal? If she couldn’t look Amber and Harry in the eye and talk about her life as Mrs. Rawlings, was she ready to do it with Meredith?

Off the dining room were two sets of sliding glass doors leading to a courtyard with a small outdoor sitting area and hot tub. Claire eased her way out into the yard and into a chair. Holding her mug of warm French Vanilla latte, she looked up toward the sky. The clouds had parted revealing patches of blue. She knew the entire disclosure process needed to be well thought-out. Claire reminded herself not to act impulsively or without forethought. Perhaps, as stunning as it seemed, Meredith may be the answer she’d been seeking. Yet, before she attempted to make contact, Claire needed to be sure of what she intended to share. Her article years ago with Vanity Fair taught her that every question must be thoroughly reviewed and dissected. Each impromptu answer must go through the same scrutiny.

If she planned on informing the world the truth, she needed to be sure it came across the way she intended. The question looming in Claire’s mind – could she trust Meredith Banks to write that article? Claire truly didn’t know the answer.

White filmy wisps of condensation moved ever so gently across the sky as beams of sunshine continued to win their battle. Tilting her face toward the sun, Claire closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh spring air. The warm rays and warm coffee reminded Claire that no matter her decision, the reality remained, it was her decision.

Suddenly an old question resurfaced, how did he do it? How did he make her disappear, without anyone questioning her sudden departure? This information seemed incredibly important. She needed to be sure, history would not repeat itself.