Truth

by Aleatha Romig

  She looked up at his face. He wasn’t looking down at her, but staring away to another time and another place. Claire nodded, “Yes.”

  “There was this man -- young man, actually. He didn’t have the greatest role models growing up. The positive traits he saw in people and what he learned to respect were power, unbridled control over those around him, veracity, and ambition, the belief that nothing was beyond his reach – nothing, meaning the acquiring of a company, money, or even people. And reliability -- once a promise was made, no matter what, it was kept.”

  Claire listened as Tony spoke about this young man who emulated his grandfather. In his own way, he’d made his grandfather into the person everyone would want to be. Few people truly knew the grandfather. Of those that did, most disliked him. However, they respected him and his abilities. That was until some decisions he made and people he trusted turned on him. The young man’s father helped in the family demise. The only support this young man believed he had was from his grandfather and his grandfather’s new wife.

  Claire followed along until this point. Nathaniel had a new wife? She remembered reading where Sharron Rawls died years before his arrest. Why hadn’t she seen anything about another wife? She wanted to ask, but never before had Tony shared. She remained silent, hoping he’d reveal more.

  Tony went on explaining: emotions were high, threats and promises were made. The new wife and this young man’s parents did not get along. One night there was an incident. Tony looked down into Claire’s eyes; he rephrased an accident. It wasn’t intentional, but things got out of control. The young man wasn’t there. He arrived too late to help his parents. Since they were beyond help, he chose to help the woman his grandfather loved. The only person who could refute the premise of murder/ suicide was a neighbor. That neighbor, like everyone else, had a price. For over twenty years the young man worked to shield the woman he promised his grandfather he would protect.

  Tony’s eyes once again met Claire’s. “When I changed my name, I hoped to distance myself from the Rawls sins. I’m not sure how or why Patrick Chester made the connection from Anton Rawls to Anthony Rawlings, but I’m so sorry he did.”

  Claire sat up, “It’s my fault.”

  His eyes refocused, “What? How?”

  “We found his name on a police report. Your parents’ injuries weren’t consistent with murder/suicide. Patrick Chester lived in a very nice neighborhood with very nice cars. His lifestyle didn’t match his profession or income. He had an annual installment that continued to grow. We suspected the annual payments were payoffs for silence. In the original report he mentioned a woman in a blue Honda. The woman was never mentioned again. A month or more ago, I went to his house.”

  Tony’s regret changed to hostility before her eyes, “You did what?”

  Claire couldn’t justify her behavior. She melted against the soft cushions, “I know-- it was stupid.”

  His hands were on her shoulders, “Why would you even think...”

  She allowed the tears to fall, “It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I’m the one who put our baby at risk.” His arms surrounded her. With her face pressed against his chest, she asked, “The woman, she wasn’t your aunt was she?” Claire felt Tony shaking his head. “She was your grandmother?”

  He shrugged, “I guess. I’ve never really thought of her that way. My parents successfully petitioned her and Nathaniel’s marriage to be voided. She wasn’t legally able to maintain the name Rawls.”

  “You’ve been paying for her freedom for all these years. Do you ever see her?”

  “I do. But she doesn’t want to be identified.”

  Claire nodded. She didn’t blame the lady. There was no statute of limitations on murder in California; the less people that knew, the better. “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

  He pushed her away and looked into her eyes, “No more detective work.” This again wasn’t a question. Claire nodded and settled against his chest. Inhaling his cologne and listening to the beat of his heart, Claire closed her eyes. She didn’t want to ponder the new information. She wanted it all to go away.

  Claire awoke as the plane touched down in Iowa.

  Your memory is a monster; you forget - it doesn't. It simply files things away.

  It keeps things for you, or hides things from you -- and summons them

  to your recall with a will of its own.

  You think you have a memory; but it has you!

  – John Irving

  Chapter 55

  Over the next few days and weeks Claire settled into an old, yet unfamiliar, pattern on Tony’s estate. Things were different and the same. She had her iPhone and iPad. Tony even bought her a new laptop; her old one was still missing. Apparently, the police found Patrick Chester’s van and hotel room. Unfortunately, the laptop was in neither place. His house in Santa Monica was also thoroughly searched. Nothing was there either. His wife and daughter were shocked. They had no idea why a loving husband and father would decide to kidnap someone. Repeatedly, they told the police and press, “This wasn’t like him at all. We don’t understand what drove him to such behavior.”

  The missing laptop led everyone to assume there might be an undetected accomplice. For that reason, Claire was more than content to stay behind the large iron gates. She rarely left the estate. When she did, it was usually to attend functions with Tony. The first few dates on their prearranged schedule were missed due to her appearance. Claire didn’t want the press taking pictures of her with the remnants of Patrick Chester’s handiwork around her eye or on her cheeks. During those first few weeks she called friends and family. Courtney and Sue made multiple visits. She even told them about the baby.

  One afternoon Claire led Courtney out to the gardens. They settled onto the same bench that Catherine had told Claire was visibly accessible to the cameras but not audibly. Claire explained her change of heart to her dear friend. Courtney told Claire about Brent’s research. Derek Burke was related to Jonathon Burke, but not directly. And Brent couldn’t find anything remotely negative regarding him or his wife. The news fortified Claire. With all of her heart she wanted to believe Tony’s vendetta was done.

  The two women embraced. Courtney promised to always be there for Claire, if Claire promised to be honest. With tears in her eyes, Claire said, “I refuse to be anything else, and Tony knows that.”

  Courtney smiled and hugged her again. “If this is really what you want, I’m happy for you. I want you to be happy.”

  “I’m not sure about forever, but right now, Tony is what I want.”

  Courtney smiled, “You know I love babies?”

  “Good, I think ours is in need of an aunt. Emily isn’t very happy with me.”

  Tony hired a bodyguard, Clay, an ex-secret service agent. As long as Claire stayed on the estate, he stayed behind the scenes. However, if she and Tony left the grounds, he rode shotgun with Eric. If Claire left by herself, he drove. If Tony chose to drive somewhere with Claire, Clay followed closely behind. He was much more intrusive than Phil had ever been. She almost asked for Phil; at least he’d be familiar. Sometimes Claire wondered what happened to him.

  Claire never moved back to the second floor suite. The first night she arrived at the estate, she stayed in Tony’s room. After that, all of her new and old things were moved there. The technology which once barred her from his suite was no longer an issue. Besides, once their baby was born, neither one wanted to maintain separate rooms. The underutilized room beside Tony’s suite was in the midst of renovation. It would be a lovely nursery, accessible from their suite and the corridor.

  By early August, Claire’s baby bump was visible, especially when wearing a bathing suit. Although it made her self-conscious, Tony complimented her changing anatomy. Her midsection wasn’t the only part of her growing. Her new doctor in Iowa City maintained everything was progressing well. Somehow they’d managed to keep the pregnancy from the press. This was amazing since the media seemed to know almost everyt
hing else including Claire’s change of address. Thankfully, nothing was ever printed about the threatening packages she’d received. The name Rawls never appeared in print or on the internet.

  Living within their secure bubble, Claire began to relax and enjoy her life again. She would spend days sunbathing at the pool or hiking to her lake and listening to the waves lap the shore. When she closed her eyes, the sound of the water upon the pebbles continued to remind her of the sound of their baby’s heartbeat at that first ultrasound. As their little one grew, the heart rate increased. It was too early to learn the baby’s sex, but the doctor said the faster the heart rate the better the chance of a girl. When he said that, Tony squeezed Claire’s hand and whispered, “I bet she has your eyes, too.”

  Claire smiled and shook her head. It never ceased to amaze her how Tony managed to get his way.

  Memories of Patrick Chester’s attack kept Claire content within the safety of Tony’s estate. Catherine’s presence helped Claire fight the feeling of isolation. Catherine’s ongoing support was therapeutic as their relationship moved beyond anything it had ever been. Nonetheless, when Claire asked, Catherine wouldn’t reveal any more about Tony’s past. Claire believed Catherine wanted she and Tony back together. She’d achieved her goal.

  On a warm and breezy day in late August, Claire’s bubble burst. She might never have realized it, if she hadn’t decided to come in early from the pool. From the sunporch she heard loud voices coming from Tony’s office. Claire quietly walked down the marble corridor to investigate. She heard Tony, but she couldn’t tell who he was talking to -- yelling at would be a more accurate description.

  Nearing the closed grand doors, Claire recognized the significant change in their relationship. Never in the past would she have willingly walked toward his voice holding the threatening brash tones she currently heard. Most significantly she no longer feared opening the doors and learning the reason for his tirade.

  Not wanting to interrupt, she gently opened the door and slid inside the office. Immediately she realized she was standing in a bathing suit, flip flops, and a cover-up while Tony wore a suit. Obviously, he’d come straight from the office. His eyes flickered toward her. She saw the darkness she’d heard in his voice. The office was full. Facing Tony, she recognized the backs of Eric, Catherine, and Clay. When she entered, Clay was speaking. She heard the end of his statement, “...no, sir. We’ve intercepted the others. This is the first one to make it onto the estate.”

  Claire panned the room. Sitting on Tony’s desk was an open package. She wanted to know what was in the package and, most importantly, if it were addressed to her. Tony’s eyes were now solely on her and soon everyone turned her direction.

  “You are all very loud. Is this about me?” Claire asked.

  “Claire, please don’t worry about this. I’m taking care of it.” Tony’s voice strained in an attempt to modulate his tone from the one he’d been using on everyone else.

  She stepped toward him. His eyes went to Catherine, “Catherine, if you could please help Ms. Claire, she may need some assistance.”

  Claire stopped. Yes, there were others in the room, but if this were about her and her baby, she had the right to know. “Clay, what others have you intercepted?”

  “Ma’am, nothing that concerns you.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Catherine approached Claire with her arm out, “Claire, let’s get you something to drink. It is very hot outside.” Claire heard Catherine’s voice from the hall; she’d been loud too. Something was happening.

  “I am not leaving.”

  “Claire.” The finality in Tony’s tone, the way he said her name, the one syllable, could easily be translated: Not now Claire. I’m handling this. Leave now.

  Claire shot Catherine a do not touch me look and walked to the other side of the desk. She didn’t intend to make a scene in front of everyone, but she wasn’t leaving without answers. Standing beside Tony she said, “Catherine, Eric, and Clay, could you please excuse us for a minute. Mr. Rawlings and I need to speak privately. I would assume he’s not done with you, so please stay close. This won’t take long.”

  Everyone in the room turned to Tony. The tension was palpable. Finally, Tony clenched his teeth and proclaimed, “Do not go far. I’m not done. Clay make some calls. After Ms. Claire and I have finished, I want answers.”

  Everyone hurried from Tony’s office as Claire turned toward her ex-husband. She’d seen the intensity of his eyes before. However, she knew the blackness was meant for someone else. She wanted to know who. “What’s happening?”

  “How did you hear? You were at the pool.”

  “How could I not hear? Everyone in a three mile radius could hear you. Tell me, what’s so important to bring you home early from work? The sooner I know, the sooner you can continue your meeting.”

  “Damn it, Claire. I don’t want you worrying.” He paced to the window and back. “Besides, who in their right mind would come in here while I’m teetering on the edge of sanity? Did you see how fast they all left?”

  Claire smiled as she placed her hands on lapels of his dark suit. “No one. Just ask my family, I’m definitely not in my right mind. And if I’m correct, the only thing that can get you this worked up is something about me.” She turned and picked up the package. It was addressed to Claire Nichols Rawls with the estate’s street address. “So, I don’t get to open my own mail anymore?”

  “Seriously, some asshole found you here, knows our address, and you want to complain about opening mail?”

  She turned and faced him. With her spine straight and chin up she kept her voice calm, “No, it scares the hell out of me, but anyone can learn this address; it’s public record. The stupid press has told anyone who wants to listen that I’m living here.” She lifted the box, “What was in it? And how many packages or letters have come that I don’t know about?”

  “It was a silver baby rattle, engraved.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Clay bagged it. He’s having it processed for finger prints. Hopefully the asshole touched it.”

  “Engraved...what did it say?”

  He seized her shoulders and pulled her close. “Claire, let me handle this. Show me you have faith in me.”

  Her face tilted upward, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” She kissed him. “What did it say?”

  “Baby Nichols-Rawls.”

  “That isn’t so bad, considering the way it was addressed. Why didn’t you want me to know that?”

  He directed her to his large leather chair. She obediently bent her knees, and he said, “That wasn’t all. Under the name it read: R.I.P.”

  She couldn’t hide the shock or fear suddenly flowing through her. Protectively her hand covered her midsection as her body began to tremble. “Oh my god, Tony...”

  He knelt before her, his voice now soft, “I told you once before, too much information isn’t good for you. Will you please learn to trust me and enjoy the bliss I’m trying so hard to provide?”

  “But... that has to be considered a threat. Can’t you take it to the police?”

  “We are. But what will they do that we aren’t already doing?”

  When his arms encircled her, she lost her fight with tears and took comfort in his lingering embrace. When a semblance of calm prevailed, she said, “I’m going to lie down. Will you please come to our room when you’re done with the others? Or are you going back to work?”

  “No, I’m staying here. I’ll be there as soon as we’re done.”

  Later he explained the new cards and packages began arriving to the estate mid-July. The first was a congratulations card about a baby. Sometimes they were flowers, sometimes presents. The notes were always addressed to Claire Nichols Rawls and the sources of origin would range from the west to east coast. Even the font changed on the cards. The benign contents made it difficult to involve the authorities, but the recent change in text now had the police’s attention.

 
During the first week of September, Tony needed to take a ten day trip to Europe. He asked Claire to join him again and again. Her growing anxiety caused by the spontaneous deliveries made Claire question every decision. She didn’t know if it was safer to stay within the gates without Tony or to be with him overseas. She chose the familiarity of the estate.

  The first attempt to unlawfully enter the estate occurred three days after Tony left. Though initially concealed from Claire, when she finally learned the details, she learned Clay thwarted the failed attempt. No perpetrator was caught, but, thankfully, a possible threat was adverted, and a previously unknown kink in their security was identified.

  The next incident occurred as Clay drove Claire back to the estate one warm afternoon. Keeping her gaze toward the tinted window, the changing leaves of the vast countryside went unnoticed as Claire’s mind reviewed her busy day. They’d traveled early to Iowa City where Clay escorted her to her doctor’s appointment. She thought wistfully about the doctor’s words. If she and Tony chose, with the assistance of an ultrasound at her next appointment, they could learn the gender of their baby. Claire smiled wondering if they wanted to know. Yes, they occasionally joked about their green-eyed daughter, but did she want to know? One thing was for sure, if the answer was yes, she didn’t want to attend that appointment without him.

  As often happened, especially with the increased flutterings she felt, Claire realized her hand was protectively shielding her growing baby. She thought about the maternity clothes she’d purchased before meeting Courtney for a delicious lunch. The press would be all over that, but hiding her pregnancy was becoming impossible. Without even considering a desire to drive, Claire’s eyes closed to her favorite pregnancy side-effect: her afternoon nap.

  Feeling the change in acceleration, Claire was jarred awake. By the time she focused, she saw the car to their left. Like the car in which she rode, the windows were too dark to see through. Clay held fast as the other car bumped and pushed against the side panels of Tony’s prized Mercedes. If the roads had been wet or snowy, the outcome may have been different. Thankfully, the roads were clear. By the time Clay pulled over, the other car disappeared over a hill and Claire’s breathing was shallow and her heart rate accelerated. The other car didn’t have a license plate.