Adrian moved with jerky steps in Claire’s direction. “So this is where you are. I’ve been wondering about you. Obsessed. Can’t sleep, can’t eat.”
“What are you doing here. How did you know—“
“Maybe my brother shouldn’t be so careless leaving your name and information on his desk.”
Claire glanced around the room for an item she could use as a weapon. Just in case. “Careless with his papers?” She tried desperately to keep her voice from reflecting the shaking of her body. “What are you talking about?”
“Are you that dumb?” His gaze drilled into her own. “You can’t keep things from me. I’m smarter than that.” He swiped a loose lock of hair away from his face. “Might take me a little time, but I figure things out. You know that.”
“No one said you weren’t smart, Adrian. You’ve always been a bright, creative person.” Claire forced a light smile on her face. If she didn’t get control of her breathing, she’d faint for sure. The last thing she wanted was him more riled. Just as her husband move in on her, she scrambled back on the bed. If she could reach the door, she’d make a run for it. Too late. Somehow In a clumsy but quick move, Adrian grabbed her leg, pulling her back to him. His hair hung limp around his face. From so close, she viewed the large dark rings under his eyes. He looked haggard and worn, nothing like the strapping, handsome man he used to me. The fine tremors in his body reverberated against her. Was it truly the mercury toxins that had kicked in over time, or was it his temper flaring?
“Why did you run away from me? I had you where I wanted you. Home with me.” He gripped her arm so hard she cried out.
“You put me in hell. I’d be damned if I was staying there. When I had a chance, I ran for it.” She pushed her face close to his. “Maybe staff shouldn’t be so careless with their keys.”
He grabbed her arm. “Don’t get sassy with me. You remember your place, woman.”
Claire pulled hard, finally wrenching herself free. She took several small steps back. Maybe if she moved slowly he wouldn’t get more upset. “How could you do this to me? To us? I tried calling you. You shut me out.”
His steps kept pace with hers. Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “You were always such a whiney thing.” his voice floated out in a soft whisper.
“Are you kidding me? Have you forgotten the life we had?” Claire quickly caught sight of the lamp on the nightstand—and the clock. She could use those if things got really ugly.
“Life we had?” He glanced around, squinting, as if trying to remember.
“And how did you get all the way from Ash Grove to here? You don’t look fit to travel anywhere, let alone have a mind enough—“
“There’s nothing wrong with my mind. I’m perfectly fine.” As he shouted, his eyes burned with hot fires of indignation. “I can drive and I can read, can’t I? I can figure out a schedule and ride a fancy train along with the best of them.” Adrian strode toward her. Claire had backed away some more, but was still several feet from the door. She didn’t want to risk doing anything too quickly or startle him. She stepped back a few more steps, holding out her arms to ward him off.
“How did you get in this house?” Claire’s tone had risen in her throat.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be careless when it comes to locking the door. Like the Bible says, when you can’t come through the front door, check the back.”
Claire stared at her husband stunned. “The Bible doesn’t—“
“Don’t argue with me, woman. I know what the Good Book says.” A crooked smile crept across Adrian’s face. “I guess here in the boondocks, folks don’t lock up. Gets you in trouble, doesn’t it? The Bible says you’ll never know the hour or the place, but when it comes, it comes.” He attempted another grab at Claire.
She backed away, horrified at her husband’s statements. Adrian had always been well-versed in scripture. He’d been so well-versed when they first married that he treated her with kindness and respect.
Adrian, continued, “I still have enough wits about me to outsmart you.”
A chill ricocheted through Claire. “Adrian, honey, listen to me. Since we’ve been apart this long, and you’re not happy, why don’t you just go on back home? I promise I won’t bother you at all. Won’t say another word about anything.”
He shook his head. “No, you’ll be coming home with me. A wife lives with her husband.”
“I won’t be living with you Adrian, no matter where I go. And I’m not about to go back to that nasty place you sent me. And for what reason, I’m still trying to figure out.”
“Nasty place?” He looked at her again, a confused look on his face. Clenching his fists, he shouted, “You’ll go where I say you’ll go. A woman abides by what her husband tells her to do. It’s written in the law.”
“Would you just listen to yourself? I still can’t figure out how you got here.” She challenged him. “You sound like a crazy person. Are you even listening to yourself?”
He stomped his foot hard against the wooden floor. “You listen to me. You’ll do everything I tell you to do, no matter what. No wife of mine is going to stay away from me, acting like a common trollop.” Drops of spittle sprayed from his mouth. Without warning, he lunged forward. Claire screamed and attempted a run for the door. Adrian had just enough speed, grabbing Claire and pulling her into his arms. He shook her hard. “Don’t you run away from me.”
“Stop it, Adrian! You’re hurting me.” She jerked and pulled in all directions, beating at him with a hand she’d loosened from his grip. Resorting to action movies again, she slammed her foot on top of his, before kneeing him in the groin. His grip loosened as he buckled in pain. Claire took advantage, breaking loose at last. The ringing of the telephone both startled and relieved her. Whomever it was on the other line, she only had one chance at a cry for help.
She managed a head start to the hall and grabbed the phone, screaming into the receiver, “Adrian’s here. Help me.”
Mitchell’s distant voice cracked through the line. “Claire . . . Claire, can you hear me?”
A strong arm reached around her and yanked the telephone from the shelf. Adrian slammed it against the wall, cracking the plaster and sending phone parts scattering in all directions.
Claire didn’t look back, but made a rush for the stairs. Everything in her field of vision passed in a blur. The only plan in her head was to get out of the house as fast as she could and make a run for George’s. Thoughts of running through the bitter cold night, with sharp rocks digging into her nearly frozen feet, scared her. Would she be able to do it, bear the pain?
Adrian’s steps pounded loud, much too close for comfort, but Claire knew she surely had to be steadier and more sure-footed. It must have been sheer will that kept her husband charging forward, shouting her name. Her breath came hard, and her chest ached. Just as she landed mid-way down the staircase and thought she could make a run for the front door, she screamed in pain. He’d grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her back. She heard strands ripping from her head. If he didn’t let her go, she’d be bald. Forced to stop, she tried clawing at him, slapping her hands back and around his face.
Relentless, he caught one of her arms, wrenching it down and wrapping his own around her. Claire winced as the joint in her shoulder made a popping sound. “You think you’ll get away from me?” He lowered his face down so that his voice filled her ear. He grabbed the other arm, yanking it down and behind her back. Adrian held her fast. Try as she might, she couldn’t move.
He’d twisted her arms around tightly so that each pull or tug ended with pain. The only thing free was her head, which she could move. She thought of one last idea. This was it, one last plan before sure death. She leaned her head forward as far as she could, and brought it back up, not stopping until she smashed into Adrian’s face. He cried out in pain.
She scrambled down the remaining stairs to the landing. Only two more small steps down into the living room, and the door was straight ahead. The lock woul
d delay her a little, but she’d dealt with it so much, she knew just how to twist and lift the little knob to its smoothest spot and open the door. No matter how cold or how hard the run would be, she’d grit her teeth and wouldn’t stop until she was safe inside George’s house. She knew careening her head into her husband’s face only made him madder and stronger. Claire didn’t know quite what happened, or even how he’d thought clearly enough, but the last thing she remembered was a sharp pain to the back of the head and spiraling down to the hard wooden floor. All went dark.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Light from the window ignited a searing pain through Claire’s head as she opened her eyes. She closed them again, shutting out the world a few seconds longer before attempting another peek through narrowed lids. Her mind reeled and slowed as it slogged through a jumble of information that had somehow become muddled and broken. Where was she? Why was she here? Was this a dream? When coherence managed a toehold somewhere in her scrambled memory, a part that still remained somewhat intact, she cried out in panic. Her body tensed. She finally remembered remnants of what happened before now.
“It’s okay, Miss Claire, I’m here.” The tiny voice tinkled in her ear, a sound so soft and sweet, it must have been a cherub. That’s how cherubs sounded, didn’t they? Claire winced, stirring and turning toward a small form sitting beside the bed. “I’ll take care of you, Miss Claire. You’ll get better. I promise.” The last words came out in a soft whisper, falling on her ear like a soft breeze. Yes, that was an angel’s voice.
The form must have moved because Claire felt a sense of emptiness beside her. In the distance, she heard the patter of feet moving quickly along something hard. Within moments, she detected the warmth of a body. The energy from this being seemed big, strong, a force that should have frightened her, but somehow didn’t. A heavy, warm hand rested lightly on her forehead.
“Claire, are you awake?”
She knew this voice from somewhere. It sounded kind. The touch, firm but gentle, soothed her as she acclimated to the world of the living. Where did her world go? Nothing had prepared her for disappearance, a brief touch with darkness that could have easily been oblivion.
“Claire, it’s me, George. And Anna’s here too.”
“Is she finally awake?” Another strong voice filled the room, and Claire sensed another energy not too different from the one who had touched her the first time. This voice had a hand, too, that rested lightly on her own, gently rubbing her cool flesh. “Are you sure we don’t need to get her to a hospital?”
A hospital? No. The word rang in her mind as a somber tone of recognition, a fleeting remembrance of a place she didn’t like. She did not want to go there or any place like it. She’d rather slip away into darkness forever than go to anything resembling a hospital. She tried clasping the hand on hers.
“Claire, we’re all here. Me, Anna, and Mitchell.”
Finally, she knew names. They all connected now. With one last struggle, she opened her eyes, viewing all three people through a hazy blur. She didn’t say anything but just stared at them, blinking, focusing.
“She’s not going to die, is she, Daddy?
“Anna, that’s not a proper question to ask right now.”
“Why not? We need to know so we can keep her here.” A small sob sounded from the little girl.
“Miss Claire is going to be fine. Don’t worry, sweetheart.” That was Mitchell’s voice. Anna sniffed back more tears. George let out a sigh.
Claire forced her eyes open wider. Over the next few minutes, her vision improved. Croaking out her words, she managed to ask, “What happened?” When George lifted a hand, she saw it had been bandaged. “What happened to your hand?”
Mitchell spoke up. “Let me go downstairs and make some coffee and some hot broth. Anna, dear, would you like to help?”
“No, sir. I’ll stay with Miss Claire.”
“Anna, you’ll go downstairs with Mr. Wright this instant.” George’s voice sounded firm, but not unkind.
Anna whimpered.
“Come on, Anna. Don’t you want to make Miss Claire better? You can only do that by helping me.” Mitchell, motioned for the girl to follow. Anna left the bedside, and she and Mitchell disappeared from the room.
George leaned over Claire’s face, and kissed her lips. “I’m so glad you’re coming around. I was worried sick about you.”
“My head is so sore.”
“I imagine so. You have a nasty bump back there. I had a doctor look at you.”
Claire narrowed her eyes, confused.
“I found a doctor who made house calls. He stopped by for a quick look at you. Said to keep watch and take you to the hospital if anything got worse.”
“I think I’ll survive. I’ve had enough of hospitals.” She managed a small smile. “But you never told me about your hand—and Adrian was here. Did he get away? We have to catch him.”
George shook his head. “I got a frantic call from Mitchell last night. Came right over.”
“Was Adrian still here?” Claire tried to sit up, but gave up on the notion.
Grimacing, George nodded. “Yeah, he was. He was trying to pick you up, shouting your name. When he saw me, it set him off.”
“Oh, dear.” Claire frowned, turning her eyes toward George’s bandaged hand. “Looks like he put up a fight.”
“I hate like everything that I had to punch out my favorite client, and old friend, but I had no other choice. He was determined to take you with him, where ever he thought he was going.”
“Adrian was bound and determined to take me back to Ash Grove. You should have heard the nonsense. It was crazy.”
“I bet it was.”
“So where is he, George?” Claire’s panic returned. “He didn’t just go on back to Ash Grove, did he?”
“Not exactly.” George scratched the back of his head, stalling.
“Then tell me where he is.” The loud tone in her voice startled Claire. At least her energy had come back a little.
“Shh, Claire. Don’t get upset. You won’t believe me when I tell you.”
“Try me. I’m all ears.” She scowled.
“He’s at Eastern Psychiatric Hospital. It was either that or jail.”
Claire gasped. George grew silent, eyes locked on hers.
***
Mitchell, Claire, and George sat at the dining table. George had let the store employees know that he and Claire weren’t coming in this day. He’d give no other explanation. Oma had been assigned to open the store. Anna had insisted she have a day off from school to help. As the three adults conversed together, Claire noted that this was the first time she’d used her own formal dining room. She rather liked it, sitting with the others, conversing. After this ordeal, she’d determined a change was in order—with or without George. Anna, having rounded up Buzzie and Moo from their hiding place, played quietly in the other room.
Mitchell poured each one at the table a cup of coffee from the Chemex. Claire brought the chintz ware cup to her nose, inhaling the aroma. She definitely needed something with a bit of kick to it. In front of her sat a matching chintz bowl full of seasoned chicken broth and a few vegetables Mitchell had thrown in for good measure. She enjoyed the simplicity and comfort of it. Her head still felt a bit heavy and sore, and her appetite had kicked in a bit.
“I still can’t believe I let him get away. He hopped the train all the way here, broke in, and stayed around until he could get you.” Mitchell shook his head and took a quick sip from his cup. “I’m still speechless. When I couldn’t find him anywhere, something told me to call you, Claire.”
“Why did you have my address out on your desk? Adrian mentioned something like that.”
“I was going to call you. I needed your number. I walked away to answer a question out on the factory floor. He must have slipped in just as I left.”
“Then he’s not totally gone, but listening to him carry on last night, I’m curious as to how long he’ll last.” G
eorge reached over, taking Claire’s hand in his. “The question is, what do we do with him now?” He looked over at Mitchell.
Claire spoke up first. “I want him as far away as possible. Otherwise, I’m leaving here and going somewhere else.” Though she had no idea where “somewhere” would be.
George stared hard at her, silent.
Mitchell’s face had turned down toward his coffee. He seemed lost in thought, his lips twisted in what seemed an expression of sadness and regret. “Honestly, I’m not really worried about Adrian as much as I am the business. Adrian can be dealt with. But he ran the production side of our business. I’m not sure whether to shut the whole thing down or try and find another partner.
“Ah, you don’t want to do that, shut your business down. I want those hats.” George grimaced, shaking his head.
“You got any ideas on who can run the place, then?” Mitchell shot his friend a pointed look. “I’m in a quandary.”
“You’ll figure it all out, Mitchell. You’ve got workers who know the job, and I’d start chatting with some people in the industry, make a few calls or visits.” Claire cast a reassuring look at her brother-in-law.
Mitchell shrugged and rested an elbow on the table, a forlorn look covering his face.
“Can you get Adrian back to Ash Grove?” George asked.
“There’s one thing I want to do first, and that’s see a lawyer while I’m here. I think it would be easier while we’re all together.” Mitchell aimed his gaze at Claire. “My dear, we’re getting you a divorce.”
“How do you intend to pull that off, Mitchell? Doesn’t Adrian have to be present? And how do you get a madman to sign anything?”
“I’ve got an acquaintance who’s a lawyer. I don’t see why he couldn’t help, or at least think of something.” George peered at Claire. “This is now or never.”
Escape From Purgatory Page 26
