There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. While this may not seem beneficial, it is. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind.
—Patrick Rothfuss
Sitting in the quiet hospital room, John assessed his sister-in-law. Claire was married. She’d actually married that bastard again! Once the foreign documentation was delivered to Jane Allyson, John had stared at it until he’d nearly bored holes in the pages. The attorney in him wanted to prove the documentation was false or unlawful but he knew it wasn’t. Perhaps it wasn’t the lawyer in him; maybe it was the brother-in-law. There’d been a time when Emily, Claire, and he’d been close. John truly did consider, or used to consider Claire a sister. She still was like a sister, John reminded himself. After all, it wasn’t unusual for families to have disagreements. Glancing toward the woman lying asleep on the bed, John wondered if the disagreements in this family could possibly be overcome.
Emily was at the hotel with Nichol, trying to rest. John was worried what the stress of this whole situation was doing to his wife and unborn child. Weren’t pregnant women supposed to take it easy? Instead, Emily was dealing with not only her sister but also her niece and so much more. Memories of the fire at Rawlings’ estate and being trapped in that room continued to haunt them both. Would the horrors of Anthony Rawlings ever end?
As John watched Claire sleep, his thoughts went back in time, to a time of innocence—when grades, sports, and girlfriends were the only concerns, when life was black and white. How do people not appreciate that age when it occurs? Instead, everyone wishes for maturity. John sat in the vinyl chair with a sigh. Growing up wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. Their growth had started out well enough. Somehow, from early on, John knew that Emily was the girl for him. Truthfully, throughout everything they’d endured, he’d never doubted that. After all the recent darkness, it seemed as though life was finally looking up. He and Emily had a baby coming, John had a new job, and they were living the life in California. When he first started dating Emily, Claire was barely a teenager.
As John remembered her at that age, the tips of his lips rose slightly recalling the lanky adolescent with frizzy dark hair and an undeniable stubborn streak of independence. Though John found it endearing, it was something that often infuriated her older sister. He recalled many occasions when Claire chose her own path, despite her sister’s advice. He blinked the moisture from his eyes as he mourned the woman Claire was never allowed to become. He also mourned the woman she had become. Either scenario was undeniably better than the one lying before him. Despite it all, or perhaps because of it all, his sister-in-law was a survivor. Whether it was the death of her parents, the loss of her job, or surviving her first marriage, Claire survived. Not only did she survive, each time she came back stronger. For that, John believed Jordon and Shirley would be proud. For that, he believed she would triumph once again. His sister-in-law was a phoenix. Whatever had occurred in her brain to make her the way she currently was would smolder and die. Claire would once again rise from the ashes.
John wanted to believe that. No, he needed to believe that, not just for him, but for Emily and Nichol.
Thinking about Nichol and the mess at hand, John remembered Claire’s visit to California last summer. It had been the last time he or Emily had seen Claire—until now. During that visit, John had seen that same stubborn streak he’d known since she was a teenager. The only difference was that this time she directed it at them. Claire came to announce her engagement, claiming she was in love.
Really? In love with Anthony Rawlings?
Emily did her best to dissuade Claire and convince her to stay in California, reminding her of the things Anthony had done in the past. Truly, with their history, John and Emily were amazed that Rawlings had permitted Claire to travel to their home. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to persuade her to escape.
Claire assured them that it wasn’t like it had been before—that this time was different. John remembered a conversation:
“Claire, look at you. You’re starting to show,” Emily said as she feigned excitement for her sister.
Claire’s hand fluttered over her midsection. “I know. It’s amazing. I’m starting to feel our baby move.” With each word, she glowed—not only her green eyes, which reminded John of his wife’s, but also her entire expression.
That glow faded as Emily retorted, “Really? Must you use the word our? You know this is 2013. There’s nothing wrong with raising this baby on your own. You made a mistake. It’s all right. Get away while you can. I mean, fine, if you want to take his money or child support or whatever, do it. But why, oh why, would you want to subject yourself and your child to a man like him?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you,” Claire replied matter-of-factly.
“Why?” Emily asked, “Because he’ll find out? That Clay-guy will tell him, won’t he?”
John didn’t try to hide his feelings regarding Anthony Rawlings. In his eyes, the man had ruined his career and sent him to prison. If it weren’t for Amber McCoy and SiJo, the life he and Emily lived wouldn’t be possible. Thankfully, the New York Bar Association had found new evidence and revisited the case. His license was in the process of reinstatement. Despite all of that, John was a litigator and as such tried to see both sides of the story, no matter how difficult. Therefore, when Claire stood and walked to the window of their Palo Alto home, John touched his wife’s hand, shook his head, and whispered, “Do you want to push her away?”
Knowing how much Claire meant to his wife and how much she had looked forward to her visit, Emily’s teary stare burned a hole in his heart. “Claire,” John said, “you know we love you. We always have. You have to understand where we’re coming from. He ruined your life. He ruined our lives. We’re just now making a recovery.”
Expecting to see sadness, Claire turned with a vengeance. “I’m not going to subject our child to this negativity regarding his or her father. Honestly John…and Emily,” she added, “I’m looking out on a pristine tree-lined street in one of the most affluent areas of the country. Emily, you say you’re taking a break from teaching. Why? I’ll tell you why. It’s because you can afford to do it. For the first time, you can afford it. You say Tony ruined your lives. I’m not saying he didn’t do things that are regrettable. I’m not downplaying the hell you or I went through. I’m saying we came out the other side and you know what? You don’t look too worse for wear. And I’m tired of hearing about Clay’s presence. Do you know why he’s here? Because both Tony and I knew that Tony wouldn’t be welcome. Clay isn’t spying on me: he’s protecting me. Did you all forget about Patrick Chester? My laptop still hasn’t been found. And, yes, Tony has money. That makes me a target for crazy people. I’d rather have Clay nearby than live in fear.”
“But if you weren’t with him, you wouldn’t be a target,” Emily tried.
“Our child would be. No matter what you say, or what you want me to do, this is my life, and I choose to live it with Anthony Rawlings. We’ve taken a long and unconventional road to get to where we are. But let me tell you: where we are is a good place. I want to have the two of you in our lives and the life of our child. That choice is yours. My child will not pay the price for the sins of his father, from you or from anyone else.”
Emily stood shell-shocked. “I’d h-hoped…” her words trailed away.
“What, Emily? You’d hoped I would come to California and decide to stay?”
Emily shook her head and then shrugged her shoulders. “I’d hoped that when John decided to take the job at SiJo we’d be together again, the three of us. Like it used to be.”
Though Emily’s cheeks were damp, Claire had yet to shed a tear as she spoke each word with conviction, “I’m not the little sister who needs you to tell me what to do. I’ll admit that I’ve lived through hell, but so has Tony. You don’t know the half of it, and frankly, it�
�s none of your business. But we’ve come out stronger. I’m stronger, and I want our child to have both parents. It’s more than that: even without our child, I want to marry Tony again.”
“It seemed like you and Harr—”
“Stop,” John interrupted. “Claire’s made her point. She didn’t come here to escape. She came to tell us about her engagement. We don’t have to like it, but I don’t believe Claire came to Palo Alto for our permission.”
Emily exhaled. “How can you take her side? We’ve discussed this. Think of everythin—”
John cupped his wife’s cheeks. “I’m not taking her side. I’ve always been on your side and I always will be. Don’t you see? So will Claire. She’ll always choose Anthony, just like I’ll always choose you. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be? We can also be on Claire’s side and the side of our niece or nephew.” He turned to Claire. “That’s the best I can offer you right now. I admit that I have a lot of resentment. I’m not as ready to forgive as you. Maybe that makes you a better person. I’ve always thought you were pretty special.”
Tears teetered on Claire’s lids. “Thank you, John…Emily?”
Emily took a ragged breath and leaned into John with her head shaking from side to side.
“Emily, we’re all the family we’ve got. I want our child to know and love his aunt and uncle. I hope someday Tony and I can be the same for your children. Maybe someday you will want the same thing.”
Emily left John’s embrace and walked to her sister. “Baby steps. I’ll support you and your baby. I want to be Aunt Em,” she added with a sad grin.
The irony helped to coat John’s cheeks in fresh tears. Emily was being Aunt Em, and he was Uncle John. Nichol was absolutely beautiful. After a few days of fussing at the formula, she was eating and sleeping like a champ. The first time Claire had awakened, John called Emily and told her to bring Nichol to the hospital.
Claire acted confused, but John felt confident that her daughter would snap her back to reality. She didn’t. The first time they tried, Claire held Nichol and cried. The next time that Emily brought her in the room, Claire just turned away and stared out the window. It was the saddest thing he’d ever seen.
The doctors explained it as a psychotic break—like a reprieve for the mind. Being a healthy, young woman, the prognosis was good. Yet no promises for the length of the episode could be made. The doctors said to take it one day at a time.
What made that increasingly difficult were the criminal charges facing Claire.
The police had tried to question her. She wouldn’t answer anyone’s questions about anything. Even Jane Allyson had been in and out trying to work on Claire’s defense. Increasingly, it seemed that self-defense and temporary insanity would be the best route.
Once again, focusing on his sister-in-law, John prayed that her condition was temporary. As hard as this was for Emily and him, he couldn’t imagine what Claire was enduring. Trying to pass time, John paced the hospital room. He’d done it for more hours than he could count. He knew the number of tiles in the floor as well as the number of tiles in the ceiling. At some point he had a random thought about why that number wasn’t the same. The answer was obvious: the size of the tiles. The ones on the floor were square, while the ones on the ceiling were rectangle. His interior monologues were a simple means of diversion: one he’d used successfully while incarcerated. Life seemed to have a repeat button.
Whenever his thoughts returned to incarceration, John’s blood pressure rose and his hands clenched unconsciously into fists. The next logical step in his stream of consciousness was Anthony Rawlings. Maybe Claire did love him, and maybe he was the father of that beautiful baby girl back at the hotel; nevertheless, he still deserved to be the one rotting in a prison cell—not John and not Claire. The idea that his sister-in-law could be convicted for a crime and once again Rawlings would go free was absurd.
That was why he and Jane went to Catherine London’s hospital room. They were in search of the truth—of answers. They asked her what exactly had happened at the estate. After that conversation, accusing Rawlings with false imprisonment seemed a foregone conclusion. There was no way they could let Claire face felony charges and Rawlings some misdemeanor charge. Knowing his depth of influence, especially in Iowa, he’d probably get off with a light sentence or pay a fine, get a slap on the wrist, and walk away scot-free.
John remembered the pain in Catherine’s eyes, her expression one of devastation as she spoke of the fateful events. The only reason John and Jane were granted access to Catherine’s guarded room was because they were Claire’s attorneys. Even still, Catherine’s attorney was also present.
“Catherine, how are you feeling?” John asked with true concern in his voice.
“Mr. Vandersol, I-I…”
John stepped closer. “Catherine, we’ve been through this before. I’m nothing like that man. Please call me John.” Motioning to his side, he said, “This is Jane Allyson. She’s Claire’s defense attorney. We’re hoping you could tell us something, anything, that would help with Claire’s defense and help nail Rawlings to the proverbial wall.”
The gray behind her pained eyes showed a spark of interest. “That’s why you’re here?”
Jane tenderly replied, “Ms. London, I understand this is difficult for you. You’ve worked for him for so long. It’s understandable how devastating it would be to have someone you’ve trusted most of your life turn on you.”
A single tear descended Catherine’s cheek. “There’s so much. Did you know Sophia Burke died?” More tears cascaded as she closed her eyes and shook her head. “And you, Mr.—I mean—John, the police said that you were trapped in the suite during the fire? I don’t know how that could have happened. How did Mr. Rawlings even know where you were? I hadn’t seen him in months. I thought he and Claire were dead…” Her voice trailed away.
Jane touched Catherine’s hand. “Can you please tell us why you called the police?”
Catherine adjusted the buttons on the hospital bed. As she sat straighter, her expression turned into a grimace.
“How are you doing?” John asked.
“I’ll be all right. The bullet didn’t do any lasting damage. Thankfully, they were able to remove it, and it missed my vital organs.” She winced as she settled into a more comfortable position. “I’m pretty sore. I don’t think I’ll be running any marathons for a while.”
“Ms. London, why did you call the police?” Jane asked again.
Her gray eyes clouded as she replayed the memory of the crucial afternoon. “I had just had lunch with…” she looked toward John. “…you, your wife, and Sophia. Then I went into the home office to check my emails. When I opened the door, imagine my shock. Mr. Rawlings was seated at the desk. It didn’t take long for him to start accusing me of vile things. I had no idea what he was even saying. It didn’t make any sense. He spoke about his grandfather and his parents. The way he was ranting and raving…” She closed her eyes and another tear found its escape. When she opened them, her voice was meeker, “It was like how he used to be to her. I was frightened.”
John’s license to practice law didn’t give him that ability in the state of Iowa; nevertheless, he couldn’t stop the question that had burned in him since he’d first learned the truth about Claire and Anthony’s beginning. “Catherine, why didn’t you help Claire back then?”
“I did all I could do. I tried to make it better.”
John nodded. He’d heard the stories of how Catherine had been Claire’s saving grace, especially during the first months. “But surely you knew what he was doing. Why didn’t you report him?”
“I wanted to.” She looked down to her lap and her voice trailed away. “I should have. I’m sorry, I was so scared…” After a deep breath she straightened her shoulders and continued, “That’s why I called the police. After being away from him for so long, I felt stronger than I had in years. I refused to go back to the way things were. I didn’t want that for Claire or fo
r me. Then when she arrived, she was so scared. I could tell she felt trapped.”
Jane pushed forward. “Why would Claire, the person you’d helped, try to shoot you?”
Catherine’s head tilted from side to side. “I don’t know. Was she? I mean, I was trying to protect the baby—Nichol, right?—from Mr. Rawlings. Claire was yelling. I don’t know if she was trying to shoot me. That wouldn’t make sense. Perhaps she was trying to finally be free. I can certainly relate.” She turned again to John. “Is it true what the press is saying? Is it true that Claire isn’t communicating with anyone?”
This time, John was the one to nod. “Damn press. Yes, it’s true.”
“How long do the doctors think it’ll be…I mean, before she can remember?”
“They don’t know. We’d hoped that she’d snap out of it before now. She rarely wakes, but when she does, she doesn’t speak and only stares. It’s like we’re not even there. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Catherine’s brows peaked. “She’s not saying anything?”
“She only speaks in her sleep. She calls out for him.”
“John, please tell Emily that I’m sorry I didn’t do more for her sister. I truly tried to help, the only way I knew how.”
“I will. Perhaps she’ll be by to visit?”
For the first time since their arrival, Catherine smiled. “That would be nice. I’d like that.”
Catherine’s attorney spoke, “My client has been through a lot. If you’d like to return, contact me first. If you have no further questions…”
After their visit, John and Jane spoke for hours contemplating Claire’s defense. It appeared clear: Claire didn’t try to shoot Catherine. She was trying to get away from Anthony Rawlings, again. Unfortunately, the Iowa City police weren’t as easily satisfied. Although her previous record had been expunged, everyone knew that the current charge of attempted murder levied against Claire Nichols Rawlings, was not her first. The question for her new legal team was how would Claire respond? The longer she remained incoherent, the more likely it seemed that Jane would be forced to file a not guilty by reason of insanity plea. While often an attempt at a lesser sentence, or more accurately hospitalization versus incarceration, this plea would be Claire’s true stance. If things stayed status quo, medical authentication wouldn’t be a problem.
Behind His Eyes Convicted: The Missing Years Page 8
