Amber’s lips and eyes revealed a smile fighting for exposure. “I’ve been told I have problems in that area.”
Claire returned her smile. “I’m glad to hear you don’t have a halo. I was beginning to wonder.”
“Oh hell, just stick around. You’ll learn more about the horns that expose themselves occasionally.”
“I’m willing to accept your help to get me back on my feet. I hate that I need it, but I know I do…thank you.”
As Claire fell asleep that night, she marveled at her new situation. Life had dealt her many changes—this one left her exhausted, eager, and filled with warmth.
Those pleasant feelings continued as she once again sat at the kitchen table, trying to make sense of her life. A little after 5:00 AM, Amber sleepily found her way into the kitchen. “Good morning, I’m not used to having a roommate. The light startled me.”
“I’m sorry. The time difference made me wake early.”
“Don’t you want coffee?” Amber asked as she selected a small cup and placed it in the top of the machine. Next, she pushed a few buttons, and the machine came to life. Slowly, Claire walked over to the counter.
“I’m afraid you may have bitten off more than anyone can chew. Apparently, I don’t even know how to make coffee.”
Amber laughed. “These are kind of new. The hardest part is deciding your flavor.”
Claire explained she should call her sister before news of her release hit the media. Amber brought Claire her laptop. “This is to look up your sister’s number. You’re also welcome to use the telephone and call whomever you want.” Claire considered the possibility of unlimited access. Undoubtedly, she would require help with more than just coffee.
Emily’s number was unpublished, but Claire remembered it was listed on the information from the prison. Of course, Emily was her emergency contact. Listening to the telephone ring, she prayed she’d catch her sister before Emily left for work. It was after 8:00 AM in Indiana. As the answering machine began to speak, Claire hung up. She didn’t want to leave a message. What if Emily’s line was monitored? Claire knew she sounded paranoid, but how does the saying go? Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean someone’s not out to get you.
While Amber readied for work, Claire continued to browse on the laptop. There was so much information literally at her fingertips. Amber’s internet was much faster than the one at the prison. Claire was lost in cyberspace when a sound came from the living room. Someone had entered the front door of the condo.
Walking casually into the kitchen, in worn jeans, a white t-shirt, and bare feet was a handsome man. His blonde hair fell in messy waves, and his face held the telltale shadow of someone who’d yet to shave. Not knowing what to do, Claire quietly sat and watched as he walked in a sleepy haze toward the mysterious coffee maker. After engineering the machine like a pro, he turned toward the table and saw Claire. His smile extended to his cheeks, creating small lines around his light blue eyes. “Oh, hello, you must be Claire.” He casually leaned against the counter and took her in.
Suddenly, she felt underdressed. Not like she needed to be formal, just more clothes than a t-shirt and shorts. Claire couldn’t help notice his firm, lean body, long legs, and obvious level of comfort. “Yes, I am. I’m also at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.” Other than guards, she hadn’t spoken to a man in a long time. She suddenly realized this man must be Amber’s new romance. She couldn’t help but think Amber moved on rather quickly. It wasn’t a judgmental thought, more an observation, especially after last night’s conversation regarding their common bond with Simon. Claire also realized she should stop staring in his direction. He may be handsome, but the last thing Claire wanted to do was cause problems between Amber and her beau.
Offering his hand, he walked forward. “So sorry, my name’s Harry. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Finally?” she responded as she shook his hand and recovered her own quickly.
“Well, I’ve heard all about you since you contacted Amber months ago.”
As Harry spoke, Amber returned to the kitchen. She no longer looked like the stylish, casual woman of last night or the sleepy robe wearing woman of earlier. Instead, she personified Ms. McCoy, CEO of SiJo Gaming. Everything from her attire to her long hair twisted into a knot at the back of her neck said professional. Truthfully, Claire wondered if she’d been met by this Amber at the airport, would she have felt intimidated. That thought faded faster than the smoke from an extinguished candle when Amber spoke. Her voice brimmed with unabashed joy and enthusiasm. “Claire, I see you’ve met my brother. Harry lives down the hall and thinks mooching off of me is easier than buying his own groceries.” She smiled as she gave her brother a flittering kiss on the cheek.
He smiled in return. “I just really like your coffee maker.”
“And my cereal, and my toast, and my…” Laughter interlaced Amber’s words. Claire tried to soak in their joviality. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d experienced such a refreshing atmosphere.
Sipping her own coffee, Claire asked, “What do you do, Harry? You don’t seem as ready for work as Amber is.”
Amber laughed again. “What do you mean? That’s about as dressed up as he gets.”
“Hey, that’s not true. I wear shoes—sometimes.” He winked at Claire. She felt herself blush. She didn’t know why, and neither of the others seemed to notice.
“Well, for the next few days, my job is you,” he said, as he took his coffee to the table. Sitting in the chair opposite Claire, he gazed into her stare.
This time she blushed. “Me? What do you mean?”
Amber answered, “I hope you don’t mind. I’d like to be the one to help you get things started here in California, but I’ve got a lot happening at work. There’s a new launch about to take place. Harry on the other hand has more flexibility with his job. I asked him to help you do whatever you need.”
Claire thought for a moment. “Thank you, Harry. I guess I need to decide what that is.”
Sipping his coffee, he offered, “I’m in no rush, but, I was thinking you’ll need more identification, so you should request a copy of your birth certificate. Once that arrives, you can do things like open a bank account. After that, the possibilities are limitless.”
“A phone,” Claire said dreamily. “I’d like to get a phone.”
Harry and Amber smiled at one another. He replied, “That can be our first mission.” Neither understood how monumental the common piece of technology would be to Claire.
Lost in her new thoughts, Claire continued, “And some clothes, but that can wait until after the bank account.”
Amber offered Claire a loan to help her get started. Claire hesitated, but knowing she had the cashier’s check, she relented, “After I get the birth certificate, can I get a California driver’s license?”
“Can you drive?” Harry asked jokingly.
Claire nodded.
“Then, I don’t see why not,” Harry answered.
Claire’s emerald eyes glowed with anticipation. Who would have thought she’d have a new home in California? “So, how do I get the birth certificate?”
“How about we eat some of Amber’s breakfast foods first?”
Walking toward her bedroom, Amber called over her shoulder, “See what I mean?”
Chapter Three
The secret to getting away with lying is believing it with all your heart, that goes for lying to yourself even more so than lying to another.
—Elizabeth Bear
Jane Allyson watched the snow and rain pelt the window of her small, yet distinguished office. The mixture melted the scene of downtown Des Moines into a sad, impressionistic painting. She wanted to concentrate on cases at hand. She had more than enough work to keep her busy, but her mind continually went back to Claire Nichols.
Late the other evening, Jane’s private cell rang. Only a week and a half since she’d watched Ms. Nichols fade into a
sea of unknown faces, on the other side of security at the Des Moines International Airport, she heard Claire’s positive tone. They didn’t talk long, but Claire’s unspoken message was louder than her words.
She was settled, making a life, and doing well. She also told Jane that she mailed her a check for her services. What she didn’t say, but Jane heard loud and clear, was a regained resolve. Wherever Claire was, she was emerging from the depths of the past three years—a butterfly finally emerging from the encased cocoon.
It was like Jane could hear the determination her client held during her interviews at the courthouse in Iowa City in 2011. Although Jane moved on to other clients, she could close her eyes and see Claire Rawlings at the steel table, recounting her tortured life with Anthony Rawlings. At the time, Jane felt overwhelmed with compassion and respect for the petite woman. Many victims were unable to share details like the ones Claire described, especially against such a respected assailant, yet with each sentence, Mrs. Rawlings grew in stature.
None of it mattered. After the prosecutor, Marcus Evergreen, wove his web around Claire’s testimony, she wisely chose incarceration over courtroom drama and further public scrutiny. Despite her circumstances, when the judge proclaimed the final sentence, Claire Nichols accepted the words with dignity and strength.
During the recent telephone call, Jane didn’t just sense renewed determination. She heard hope and optimism: qualities that Ms. Nichols had lost. They never discussed Claire’s final destination. Jane believed it was better not to know—plausible deniability.
As she stared at the frigid Iowa morning, Jane didn’t regret filing Claire’s pardon petition. Jane believed, no matter the consequences, freeing Claire Nichols was the right motion. Thankfully, after some debate, the partners of her firm agreed, and her position within the firm was secure.
Earlier this morning, while readying for work, Jane saw Claire’s face on the local news. Two weeks after the fact the news of her release was out. Jane couldn’t contain her smile. She didn’t know how Governor Bosley kept it quiet for so long, but Jane was thankful.
Word was that Richard Bosley was fading fast. His stage four B pancreatic cancer had metastasized to his bones.
Settling into her leather chair, Jane sipped warm coffee and contemplated her impending meeting. Her earlier joy diminished as she entered her office greeted with multiple urgent messages from Anthony Rawlings’ secretary. Apparently, Mr. Rawlings learned of Claire’s release last night. Although prior to the news release, it was two weeks after it had occurred. Jane smiled and thought, miracles do still happen.
Mr. Rawlings’ secretary asked Jane to travel immediately to Iowa City for a meeting with Mr. Rawlings. Jane wondered how many people drop everything at such a summoning. Jane respectfully informed the woman that she was involved in very important cases and would need to check her schedule. After a prolonged silence, during which Jane stared aimlessly out her large window, contemplating the grey skies and chances of rain, Jane informed the secretary she would be available to make a trip to Iowa City, a week from Thursday. The woman was obviously dismayed by Jane’s refusal to fall prostrate to the great Anthony Rawlings.
A few minutes later, Jane’s phone rang. This time, it wasn’t a request. Mr. Rawlings’ secretary informed Jane that Mr. Rawlings would be at her office by 10:00 AM this morning. Jane thought about stalling the meeting, saying she was busy, but she decided she wanted to see her client’s ex-husband for another reason. She believed Mr. Rawlings’ demeanor would reveal if he were the anonymous benefactor.
If Jane sensed Mr. Rawlings wasn’t Claire’s savior, then she wouldn’t mention the origins of the petition, and the benefactor would remain a mystery.
Tearing Jane from her thoughts, her assistant’s voice broke through the speaker on her desk, “Ms. Allyson, Mr. Rawlings is here, accompanied by his attorney, Mr. Simmons.”
Jane took a deep breath and exhaled. “Please send them in.”
Seeing the strained expression on the entrepreneur’s face, Jane knew immediately, Mr. Rawlings did not send her the letter. He obviously came expecting answers. She had to wonder, if it wasn’t him, then who was it?
“Hello, Mr. Rawlings, Mr. Simmons.” She nodded at the men as they entered her office. “Please have a seat.” She motioned to the two chairs sitting opposite her desk. Although probably not as grand as theirs, this was her office, and Jane would take the seat of honor. Closing the door, she returned to her leather chair. “Now gentlemen, to what do I owe this honor?”
Mr. Simmons spoke first, “It has just recently come to my client’s attention that on March 8th you filed a petition with Governor Bosley, requesting a pardon for Claire Nichols.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“My client would like to know why this was filed, on what grounds, and who approached you to make this request.”
“Gentlemen, Ms. Nichols was never convicted of a crime. She pled no contest. That was not an admission of guilt. She’s had an impeccable record during incarceration. Truthfully, she’s the poster child for pardons, and as for who hired me, I’m sure you’re familiar with the term confidential.”
“Why was I not notified?” Apparently, Mr. Rawlings couldn’t restrain himself any longer.
“Why would you need to be notified?”
“For my safety. She tried to kill me!”
“Have you been threatened…” Jane leaned forward and continued, “…since her release?”
“No. I just learned of her release last night.”
“It appears as though you needn’t be concerned. She’s had two weeks to finish what you claim she started.” Jane grinned. “And it seems you’re still with us.”
Mr. Rawlings fought to keep his expression indifferent.
Mr. Simmons continued the enquiry, “Do you know where Ms. Nichols relocated? For my client’s safety, he should be informed.”
“I do not. As I’m sure you’re aware, with a pardon, the criminal record is expunged. Ms. Nichols does not owe the court a thing. She is free to go wherever she chooses. Furthermore, she is not required to keep the court or the state of Iowa informed of her whereabouts. I took her to the airport and left her at the gate. There is nothing more I can tell you.”
Mr. Rawlings counsel continued, “She had a ticket for San Francisco, but prior to boarding the plane, her reservation was cancelled. Do you know where she went instead?”
Jane truly didn’t know about the cancelled flight. She was very glad she’d heard from Claire. If she hadn’t, that information would have been upsetting, but she could appear genuinely surprised. “I don’t know anything about her reservations being cancelled, and as I said before, I don’t know where she is now.”
“Ms. Allyson, she had a first-class ticket. Do you know how Ms. Nichols could afford such a ticket?” Mr. Simmons continued.
“As I mentioned, some things are confidential.” Standing, Jane said, “Now gentlemen, if that is all? I have work—”
Anthony’s voice resonated low and menacing, interrupting Jane’s dismissal, “Ms. Allyson, I’m not happy with the recent turn of events. I plan to learn of all individuals involved in this miscarriage of justice, and it’s obvious that you played a role.”
Still standing, Jane met Mr. Rawlings’ stare. This was her forte—why she became an attorney. “Mr. Rawlings, I was your ex-wife’s co-counsel during her trial. I represented her then, and I would gladly do so again. If you have complaints about her pardon then I recommend you take them up with Richard Bosley. His signature alone opened the door of her cell.” Jane’s words slowed. “And I’m certain that a man of your stature did not intend his concern regarding self-preservation to be interpreted as a threat. That would not coincide with your benevolent image and, I’ll add, is illegal.”
Standing, Mr. Simmons eloquently interceded, “You’re correct, Ms. Allyson. My client is obviously distraught over the recent turn of events. You can understand his alarm. After all, Ms. Nichols tried to harm
him once. It’s only natural for him to be concerned she may try to do it again.”
“Yes, Mr. Simmons, I see how your client would be concerned that my client would cause him harm.”
Tony didn’t appreciate Ms. Allyson’s veiled implication. He didn’t want Brent informed of Claire’s accusations. Standing, Tony summoned his most affable voice, “Thank you, Ms. Allyson. I’m glad you understand my concern, and I hope you didn’t misinterpret my alarm. If you remember anything else regarding Ms. Nichols’ departure or learn her location, I would appreciate being informed.” Tony extended his hand.
Jane took his hand and firmly shook it. “Mr. Rawlings, you will be among the first I call. Are we done?”
“Yes, I believe we are.”
After the two men exited her office, Jane collapsed into her leather chair and exhaled audibly. Well that was fun. She smiled to herself. Funny how one petition could continue to bring her pleasure.
The exercise room in the lower level of the condominium sported the newest machines and guaranteed fitness in just minutes per day. Claire usually waited until after 7:30 AM for her morning workout. Most of the residents were professionals who utilized the equipment before heading to their respective careers. The small gym burst with fitness enthusiasts every day from 5:00 AM to 7:00 AM. Since she didn’t have a job, waiting until the crowd thinned made more sense.
Flat screen televisions glowed with closed caption from every direction throughout the fitness center. She watched and read. Never again was Claire Nichols going to be uninformed about the world around her. The display on the elliptical machine read nine more minutes. She willed her legs to continue, yearning for her pre-prison tone.
Contemplating the day’s activities, she made a mental to-do list. At 11:00 AM, she had an appointment in San Francisco with a jewelry broker. Since obtaining her birth certificate, she’d fulfilled many of her needs: driver’s license, bank account, clothes, telephone, computer, cosmetics, a used car, and insurance. Truthfully, Claire was proud of her new to her Honda. It was the same make she owned in Atlanta, just a few years newer. Of course, she sent Jane Allyson a Money Order for her services.
The Consequences Series Box Set Page 57
