She continued to pace the carpeted floor. She had plenty of work she could be doing, but with the press conference an hour ago, she couldn’t concentrate on anything except willing her phone to ring. If the call didn’t come soon, it never would.
The memories of Claire Nichols’ case flooded Jane’s thoughts. The idea to request a pardon had never occurred to her, but it was a good idea. The part that scared her—hell, it must have scared the person who sent her the application—was Anthony Rawlings. The man was extremely influential, and there would be consequences if the pardon was actually granted. Jane pushed those thoughts away. She couldn’t think about that now. She could only wait.
Lost in her own thoughts, the ringing of her telephone made her heart race and body flinch. Momentarily, she stared at the device. Was it her imagination? Were the sounds truly resonating from the small plastic telephone? Reaching for the receiver with a trembling hand, she utilized her courtroom skills and steadied her voice. “Hello, yes, this is Jane Allyson…”
Jane’s grip upon the steering wheel blanched her knuckles. The drive from Des Moines to Mitchellville took less than thirty minutes, and at 2:15 PM the traffic wasn’t an issue. The issue which lingered in Jane’s mind was her continual work under the radar. No one on planet Earth knew what she was doing. It added to the mystery.
The dichotomous March sky stretched before her, gray upon gray. The shades weren’t the same, yet they weren’t different. Just clouds upon clouds. Turning east onto highway I–80, Jane thought about the prisoner, locked away from her life and loved ones, only a few miles ahead. In her briefcase, on the seat next to her, was the one-page document that would change Claire Nichols’ life forever.
Three days ago, this document didn’t exist. Jane Allyson wondered about the petition and the check. Right or wrong, she decided to keep the assignment to herself. In the world of money and influence, anyone could be tempted to inform Anthony Rawlings of her impending quest.
She wasn’t accusing anyone, at any level, of wrong doing. It was only that Claire made claims, real valiant assertions and accusations. Like mist from a lake into the cool evening sky, her testimony evaporated. Over a year later, no one, not even nosey reporters, had the slightest inclination of the possible alternate personality of Iowa’s golden boy. Some small voice within Jane’s soul warned her not to share her current activities. Once complete, she would request a meeting with the partners of the firm. Hopefully, they would understand. At this moment, Jane chose to worry about Claire instead of possible personal consequences.
Unbelievably, the list of pardoned individuals released to the media following the press conference didn’t include Claire Nichols, yet the document was in Jane’s possession. Pulling into the visitor’s parking area, Jane Allyson tingled with anticipation. Fourteen months ago, she wasn’t able to help her client, but today, she would.
The elation vaporized with an unexpected realization. Jane stood statuesque, her hand upon the door, immobilized by a thought, who has 100 thousand dollars available to free Claire from prison? She’d been so attached to the premise that it was someone who feared Anthony Rawlings. What if instead of someone who feared him, what if it was him? Could it be? But why?
By submitting the petition, instead of being a rebel, could Jane be a pawn? What if the freedom she was about to grant Claire was nothing more than an enticement to a web? Her hand held the door handle, and her stomach lurched. Jane couldn’t let these thoughts stop her forward progress. Claire Nichols deserved freedom. Jane needed to intercede and assure Claire’s freedom wasn’t only from the state of Iowa, but out of Iowa.
An eerie florescent glow illuminated the small, dingy visitor’s room. The artificial light added to the coolness of the metal table and chairs. Jane continued to check her watch. How long does it take to bring a prisoner to this room?
The answer was thirteen minutes. Nearly thirteen minutes after Jane’s arrival to the small, colorless room, the door opened. Accompanied by a guard, Claire Nichols entered and sat in the opposing chair. She looked just as Jane remembered, with her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Although her complexion was pale, even without make-up, her eyes were still the vivid green. Though similar in stature to herself, the prisoner appeared more petite inside her Iowa issued jumpsuit.
“Jane, I’m surprised to see you. Why are you here?” Claire’s inquiry sounded amazingly strong.
“Have you heard of a pardon?’
“Yes, it’s something the president does before he leaves office. Why?”
“Because it’s also something the governor does before leaving office.”
Claire’s green eyes narrowed as she searched for words. “I don’t understand.”
“Governor Bosley has cancer. He resigned from office today.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I believe he attended my wedding.” She paused, momentarily contemplating the information. “What did you just say about a pardon?”
“Claire, he signed a number of pardons before his resignation. The one I came to talk to you about is yours.”
Claire heard Jane’s words. She tried diligently to process the information, but it wasn’t making sense. Rather than words, tears formed.
Jane watched as her former client struggled with her new reality. “First, you must accept the pardon.” Jane pulled the paper from her brief case and placed it on the smooth surface in front of Claire. “Once you do, you are free.”
The prisoner stared at the document before her. She read her name and the charges. Governor Bosley’s signature was present with the official state stamp of Iowa. Only one line remained blank: the line for her signature. When her eyes left the paper and returned to the woman who’d been her defense counsel thirteen months ago, they sparkled with moisture which now coated her cheeks.
Claire needed reassurance. Too many times in her life she’d been deceived. “Why do I have a pardon…and free…what does that mean? Free as in free, or free as in I must be watched and monitored…” Her voice faded into unsuppressed emotions.
Jane reached across the table and held Claire’s trembling hands. “If you sign this petition, you are free. A pardon means all charges are gone. They are expunged from your record. You are forgiven, and you may leave this prison today and never look back.” As the words tumbled from Jane’s lips, Claire’s resolve melted, her shoulders slumped, and her head bowed. It wasn’t the sounds that indicated her sobs; it was the shuddering of her shoulders. Jane squeezed her hands. “You may go anywhere YOU want, whenever YOU want. Claire, where do you want to go?”
Her green eyes glistened as her gaze returned to her counsel. “Where do I want to go?” Claire’s mind spun; it had been so terribly long since she had control of her future. Finding her voice she replied, “I don’t know.”
“I guess the first question you need to answer is: Do you accept the pardon?” Jane watched as Claire’s chest heaved. In desperation, the woman in orange attire nodded as words continued to fail her. “Then you need to sign the petition.”
Claire nodded again.
It took some time for Jane to calm her client. Once done, they secured her signature. There was processing to do, but before this day was done, Claire would leave the penitentiary alongside Jane.
“When will I be released?” Claire found her voice, although more tentative than before.
“I’m not leaving today without you.”
Claire’s eyes beamed admiration toward her counsel. “What do I need to do?”
“Do you have anything in your cell that you want to take with you?”
Claire debated her personal belongings. Yes, there were pictures, letters, research, and some tokens. She nodded.
“Then you go back to your cell with a guard. I’ll take this pardon to the warden’s office. Someone will bring you to me in a short time.” Claire continued to nod in agreement. “They’ll return all your belongings from the day you were arrested, including your clothes. I brought some others in case the ones
you wore that day no longer fit.”
“Thank you.” Claire looked down at the table. “I don’t have any money to pay you for your work.”
Jane thought of the cashier’s check. “Let’s get you out of here, and then we’ll talk reimbursement.” Jane’s smile proved contagious. Claire returned the smile and squeezed Jane’s hands. “Before you go back to your cell, who can I call? Is there someone who can meet you? Someone to take you somewhere? Or do you want to stay in Iowa?” Jane silently prayed her client wanted to leave and that she had somewhere to go.
“Where can I go?”
“Anywhere you want. Who can I call?”
Claire contemplated the question. She wanted to leave Iowa and all its memories as soon as possible. But who could help her? She had no money. Her sister would come, but it would take her time. Besides, Emily didn’t have money either. Then she thought of someone—albeit an unlikely friend.
Many months ago, after receiving Anthony’s box of secrets, Claire decided to contact Amber McCoy, Simon Johnson’s fiancée. She felt a connection; two women done wrong by the actions of Anthony Rawlings. Today, Claire believed Amber was the one person who could help. “Amber McCoy, CEO of SiJo Gaming, in Palo Alto, California. I don’t know her number.”
Writing everything down, Jane answered, “Don’t worry, I’ll get in contact with her before you reach me in the main office.”
“Thank you.” Claire stood and walked toward the door. With her hand in mid knock, she repeated, “Really, Jane, thank you. I never expected this—never.”
“We’ll talk more in the car. Now, get your things, there’s a big, wonderful world waiting for you.” Jane watched as Claire lifted her head and squared her shoulders. Next, she knocked upon the door and was led to her cell. For a few more minutes, Claire endured the indignation of her prisoner status. The guard didn’t know she was now a free woman. Unlike the last time, as Jane watched Claire escorted away, this time, she took comfort in knowing it was only temporary.
Jane wondered why it wasn’t more difficult. Removing a prisoner from a medium security penitentiary should be harder, yet with the governor’s signature on a piece of paper, Claire Nichols was now riding in the passenger seat of her Toyota Corolla, wearing jeans and hiking boots from fourteen months earlier.
Claire chose to wear the blouse that Jane brought for her. It was slightly large, but nonetheless, as Jane viewed Claire in her peripheral vision, Claire didn’t seem concerned. Instead, she appeared mesmerized by the landscape, occasionally sighing or dabbing her eyes. Jane tried to imagine Claire’s state of mind. Of course her client was emotional. Her entire life had just abruptly changed—again. It would be a difficult transition for anyone.
Sporadically, Jane checked her rearview mirror. There were no signs suggesting they were being followed; however, if the benefactor of the 100 thousand dollars knew about Claire’s release, Jane worried he or she might be waiting for their departure.
Breaking the silence, Jane said, “I didn’t speak with Ms. McCoy, but her assistant said there’ll be a ticket waiting for you at the American Airlines counter.”
“I don’t have identification.” The sudden realization frightened Claire. Could this oversight land her back in prison?
“Yes, you do. Iowa issued you an identification card identifying your personal belongings. You have all of that, don’t you?”
Claire hugged her belongings. All of her possessions in the entire world were contained within the small nylon bag. Along with the items from her cell, Claire’s bag held the blue cashmere sweater and the jewelry that she’d been wearing upon her arrest. At twenty-nine, it seemed like such a small accumulation. “I do. I didn’t realize the identification card would work outside of prison.”
As Jane turned the Toyota south onto Highway 235, she inhaled deeply and breached the uncomfortable subject. “Claire, I need to tell you something. The petition for your pardon wasn’t my idea.”
The trance holding Claire Nichols’ thoughts captive had now released its hold; she zeroed in upon her savior, the person who’d freed her from a life of solitude; however, after so much time alone, conversation was difficult. Claire desperately tried to fill the silence. If one person spoke, then it was time for the next. She could do it. “What do you mean?”
Jane told Claire about the anonymous letter, the almost complete petition for pardon, and the certified cashier’s check. She didn’t mention her fear as she entered the penitentiary.
Claire asked, “Who would spend 100 thousand dollars for my release?”
“I don’t know.”
Claire observed the expression, body language, and tone of the woman sitting next to her. It had been a while, but she believed Jane spoke truthfully. Her attorney didn’t know who had planted the seed for her emancipation.
Jane continued, “I can tell you that initially, I believed whoever this was wanted you released without associating their name. I also believed they were protecting themselves from your ex-husband.”
Claire ingested her words, it made sense. If Tony knew someone helped in her release, who knows what he might do; then she registered every word. “Initially? Jane, what do you mean initially?”
As Jane answered, her Toyota headed south toward the Des Moines International Airport. “I have to admit that I’ve had another thought.” Claire didn’t speak. She listened and watched. Jane continued, “What if the petition, letter, and money came from an unlikely source, someone to whom 100 thousand dollars was nothing?”
Claire’s emerald eyes opened wider. The elation, which had filled her lungs, had evaporated. No longer involuntary, breathing required thought. She stammered, “You think it was T-Tony?” Claire fought an onset of nausea. “Why would he do that?”
“I really don’t know. I just think the best thing is to get you out of Iowa, especially before the press frenzy begins.”
Claire hugged her belongings close to her thumping chest. As she remembered the unrelenting press and more importantly her ex-husband, old fears caused her heartbeat to race. Looking again at Jane, Claire noticed Jane’s eyes darting between the landscape ahead and the one behind in the rearview mirror. What if Tony or someone else were following her? Claire replied, “Yes, please, let’s do that.”
The American Airlines’ agent at the counter didn’t question Claire’s Iowa state issued identification. Within minutes, she handed Claire her boarding pass: a nonstop first-class ticket to San Francisco, departing in ninety minutes.
Each step toward the concourse removed a little of Claire’s heaviness. Although the anxiety and apprehension she’d experienced under Tony’s rule knocked at the door of Claire’s heart and soul, she desperately tried to suppress those fears. Her counsel’s attention and kindness helped to alleviate the burden. Claire truly didn’t have time to process her sudden freedom. Turning toward Jane, she inquired, “Tell me again about the pardon. Do I need to check in with anyone?”
Jane explained, “Everything associated with the charge of attempted murder is now gone. The arrest, plea, incarceration—it’s all gone. Your record will appear as though it had never occurred.” She emphasized, “Claire, the last fourteen months never happened.”
“Thirty-six,” Claire corrected.
Jane looked into her client’s eyes. She saw the victim’s eyes from over a year ago: not the eyes of an attempted murderer. The sadness combined with confusion told Jane that release wouldn’t be that simple. Removing Claire from the walls of Iowa’s Correctional Institution for Women was easier than removing the past thirty-six months from her memories. There was nothing Jane could do or say to help ease her client’s fearful thoughts. Getting Claire safely out of Iowa was her only goal. “Please take care of yourself,” Jane said as she pulled an envelope and a card out of her purse. “Here’s my card with my cell and office number as well as email. If I can be of any assistance, please don’t hesitate to contact me. In this envelope are a few things that I believe should belong to you.”
> Claire took the items from her attorney and slowly opened the envelope. Staring back at her was fifty dollars in ten dollar bills and a cashier’s check made out to cash for 100 thousand dollars. “No, Jane. I can’t accept this. This is for you. It’s your payment for helping me.”
“The cash will help with incidentals until you reach your friend, and as for the check, it’s a ridiculous amount of money for a few hours’ work. You get settled. When you can, send me an appropriate payment for my services. Consider it seed money to start your new life.”
“But we don’t know who it’s from.”
“No, we don’t. If perhaps it’s from whom we suspect, wouldn’t he be happy to learn it went to you?”
Claire’s lips slowly turned upward; she shook her head. “No. No, he wouldn’t.” Claire scanned the mingling crowd for a familiar face. Exhaling with relief at the sea of strangers, Claire continued, “And for that reason, I accept.” The two women embraced. “Thank you, Jane, for everything.”
Claire straightened her shoulders and turned toward the gate. It had been some time since she’d flown commercial, but she knew Jane wasn’t allowed past security without a boarding pass. Thankfully, no one else would be either.
Jane watched as Claire passed the TSA agents and disappeared into the crowd of bodies. With an audible sigh, Jane thanked God that no one had recognized her client, and the reporters hadn’t been notified. She had no idea how long it would take interested parties to learn of Claire’s release and flight. However long, Jane hoped it was long enough.
Claire Nichols sat in a row of connected black vinyl chairs, holding all of her worldly possessions and soaking in the scene around her. There were people talking, reading, and even sleeping. Periodically, the dim background noise shattered with announcements over the PA system. They told of flights boarding and others delayed. No one noticed her. No one cared that only four hours earlier she’d been a prisoner of the state of Iowa. The buzzing in Claire’s brain began to dull, and her pulse steadied. In another thirty-five minutes, she’d be boarding a plane. Claire hoped she wouldn’t hear an announcement saying her flight was delayed. She may not remember her initial arrival to Iowa, but she was savoring her final exit. Returning was not on her agenda.
The Consequences Series Box Set Page 55