“I VISITED WITH TONY’S CLOSE FRIENDS. ALL WENT WELL. NOW SAFELY ALONE AND GOING TO SLEEP. WILL TEXT TOMORROW.”
On the table, Claire found a note:
Mr. Rawlings turned off the cameras in your suite. Please call the number below when you wake so that your breakfast will be brought to you. Sleep well.
Good night,: Catherine
Claire thought about the changes she’d seen in Tony. Was her opinion swayed because of their child? Did she see positives where she should be seeing warnings? Claire recalled Brent’s advice: Remember who you’re dealing with.
Wasn’t that a two-edged sword? She had many memories of Tony, and many were good. Of course, there was a flip side. Perhaps she should think about them; however, she didn’t want her baby overwrought with negativity.
Inhaling the cool night air, the country noises and moonlit vista enveloped Claire as she stepped onto the balcony. Despite the change in decor, the familiarity of the suite, balcony, and nocturnal murmurings comforted her. She felt her body relax and exhaustion prevail. Moments later, she snuggled into the soft sheets as sounds of crickets and cicadas through the open French doors serenaded her to sleep.
The next morning, Claire woke after 10:00 AM. She blamed the time difference. Nonetheless, she lay motionless for moments, assessing her physical state. When she’d determined she wasn’t going to be ill, she made her way to the bathroom. Next, she called the number from Catherine’s note. Claire didn’t leave her breakfast to chance. When Cindy answered, Claire was very specific, “Hello, Cindy, I’m finally awake. Could someone please bring me…?”
Cindy brought dry scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit and served it on the balcony. Claire ate her breakfast and drank tea and orange juice while a soft breeze blew her unbound hair around her face. Taking in the beautiful, green, and peaceful scene, it was difficult not to enjoy her surroundings. Everything was perfect.
When Claire finally descended the grand stairs, it was almost noon. She’d wanted to speak with Catherine, and although Tony was due home any minute, Catherine was waiting for her near the sun porch.
“Do you think we have time for a walk?” Claire asked.
“Yes, not too long; however, I believe it would be good for you to walk.”
The two women strode in step out of the sun porch and down into the backyard. Even though the midday sun heated the June day, a warm breeze kept the air moving and comfortable. Together, they made their way to the gardens. Flowers of all colors adorned the paths. Following the flagstone stepping stones they made their way to a stone bench at the edge of Tony’s yard.
“This is visible, not audible,” Catherine said. Claire nodded. “Ms. Claire—”
“Just Claire, please?” Claire asked with a smile.
Catherine smiled. “Claire, thank you for what you said yesterday. You’ll never know how much it means to me. Mr. Rawlings asked me about a box of information sent to you in prison. Why do you believe it was sent?”
Claire’s insides fluttered. She didn’t know if it was their baby finally waking or anxiety produced by the possibility of answers to her many questions. “I think it depends on who sent it. At first I thought it was sent by Tony. If that were the case, I thought he sent it maliciously—bragging about the things he’s done.” She paused. When Catherine didn’t respond, Claire continued, “Now I’m not sure, and I don’t understand all of the contents.”
“What don’t you understand?”
“How long have you known Tony?”
“A long time.” Catherine’s expression revealed someone reminiscing. “I met him the day he graduated high school.”
Claire gasped. She had no idea they went back that far. “So, you knew him when he was Anton?” Catherine nodded. Claire asked, “Did you know his family—his parents and his grandparents?”
“Yes, I did.”
There were so many questions going through Claire’s mind. She didn’t know which ones to vocalize. “He never talks about his family. Well, he’s mentioned his grandfather a few times. Please tell me about them.”
Catherine focused on Claire. “Someday, perhaps. Today is about Anton. He needs you more than he’s willing to admit, even now. I hope you can see the strides he’s accomplished and the concessions he’s made.”
Claire fought the emotions within her, and she steadied her shoulders. “I do. I also have memories. Not just the ones of here. You mentioned sometimes being with him was difficult. You and I both know that’s an understatement.” Claire inhaled deeply and continued, “I also have memories of prison. Tell me why he did that to me.”
“Mr. Rawlings is a man of his word. The problem was, he made two different promises, and he felt honored to keep them both. He hoped that by fulfilling one, in a different than expected way, he may have the chance to rectify the other.” Catherine squeezed Claire’s hand. “That’s up to you. Please give him the chance.”
“Why are you so loyal to him?”
“He’s like my family. I’ve seen what life has done to him and how he’s triumphed on so many levels. He’s also been loyal to me.”
“But, if I’m to interpret the box correctly, he’s done some terrible things.”
“Ms.—I mean, Claire, we’ve all done some terrible things. That doesn’t mean we aren’t capable of good. You’ve shown me that too.”
As Claire was about to respond, they both heard the approaching footsteps. Coming from the house, Tony advanced, carrying a large satchel. His concerned expression mellowed when his dark eyes met Claire’s. Abruptly, Catherine stood.
“Catherine.” His one word greeting could easily be interpreted as a reprimand.
“Tony,” Claire reached for him. “What do you have?”
Slowly, his piercing gaze left Catherine and turned toward Claire. She watched the light overtake the dark as a smile emerged. “I see you’re wearing the hiking boots.”
“Well, yes, you promised a walk,” Claire responded.
“I have our lunch. Shall we picnic at your lake?”
Catherine said, “I’ll leave you two to your afternoon.” Her eyes pleaded at Claire before she nodded and turned away.
“I hope I remember the way,” Claire said as they began walking toward the trees.
“Did I interrupt something?” he asked.
“Girl talk. I’ve missed Catherine terribly.” With a tightening in her stomach brought on by concern for the woman she held dear, Claire hoped Tony’s lack of response meant this conversation was done.
With each step, the directions to one of her favorite places—in the entire world—came back to her. When the trees opened to her meadow, Claire sighed with relief. Everything was just as she’d remembered. The shadowed fringes contained remnants of morning glories the color of the Iowa sky. Daisies and mustard plants added yellow and golden highlights to the otherwise green clearing. Although Tony and Claire talked during their hike, they also enjoyed the quiet serenity of nature.
The buzz of the occasional insect and the rustle of the leaves above, brought on by the gentle wind, filled their ears. As they neared the lake, Claire noticed the fresh aroma of the water penetrating her lungs with each breath.
The new boots she’d found in the well-stocked closet stood upon the pebbles of the lake’s edge while the waves lapped the shore. Out over the water, the sun shone in sparkling prisms like colored flashes above the rippled lake. Tony squeezed her hand and whispered, “It’s as beautiful as I remember.”
“Have you been here recently?”
“No, I’d be lost without you.” Claire wondered if he meant he’d be lost in the woods or if the statement held deeper meaning.
They laid the blanket upon the shore and unpacked the lunch. She made no attempt to hide her ravenous hunger. Claire blamed her appetite on the exercise.
Later in the afternoon, as the warmth continued to build, Claire took off her shoes and socks and ventured into the water. The soft underwater terrain squished beneath her toes. The warm sun on her
skin and the cool water on her feet created the perfect balance.
“We could swim?” Tony offered.
“I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”
“Me either,” he managed with a sultry grin.
Claire laughed and declined his offer. Instead, they lounged on the blanket in their shorts.
Chapter Forty-Five
No man chooses evil because it is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks.
—Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
Anton eased his rental car in the parking space at the Royal Hotel on Century Boulevard. Thankfully, the low watt overhead lights did little to brighten the shabby cracked asphalt lot. Even if he tried, he couldn’t ignore the beat-up old automobiles filling many of the available spaces. With the demise of his family’s fortune, Anton had fallen, but he was extremely thankful he hadn’t fallen this far. Under normal circumstances, he’d never step into the likes of this flea infested hotel.
It was a place where whores and junkies rented rooms by the hour. For some, it was a living, for others—their death. It was the last place in Santa Monica anyone would expect a Rawls to stay. For that reason and that reason alone, it is where Anton safely stowed his step-grandmother.
Technically, Marie wasn’t his step-grandmother any longer. Nathaniel suffered a massive heart attack four months ago. His death came two months before the completion of his reduced sentence, and the news sent shock waves through Anton’s family like a magnitude seven earthquake.
Prior to Nathaniel’s passing, Samuel Rawls sought legal declaration voiding his father’s marriage to Catherine Marie London. While few states allowed third-party challenges to marriage, New York had a unique rule allowing the ability to annul a marriage and defeat the property consequences of said marriage. Both Nathaniel and Marie fought Samuel’s efforts. Despite Nathaniel’s incarceration, his power managed to keep Samuel’s allegations out of court.
Although Samuel never visited his father in the minimum security prison, the moment he learned of Nathaniel’s passing, his attorney successfully filed the necessary paperwork. Because Samuel had begun the annulment prior to his father’s death, the legal action survived.
In order to void a marriage, one of the following situations must be proven: fraud, duress, mental incompetence—either permanent or temporary, undue influence, sham, jest, and underage—voidable in a majority of jurisdictions. Samuel’s suit claimed mental incompetence and undue influence.
It wasn’t property from the marriage that Samuel sought. Most of the family assets were gone, seized by the federal government. Rawls Corporation was sold, and it no longer existed as a whole, but had been parted out to many different procurers. The contents of the large home in upstate New Jersey were auctioned to the highest bidders, and the estate now belonged to a prominent sports star. The resulting proceeds sat in trusts, waiting to be funneled to those wronged investors. Of course, the attorneys would take their share first. What was left would eventually make its way to the people taking part in the claims and various class action suits.
Thankfully, Samuel wasn’t aware of Nathaniel’s overseas money. Samuel’s main objective was Marie’s name. His case was only to strip Rawls from her title. Vindictive, yes, but Samuel Rawls learned from the best. In one bold move, he punished Marie for replacing his mother and Nathaniel for wronging their family.
Anton tried to act as mediator, but his father was not receptive. It didn’t matter to Samuel that Marie loved his father. He didn’t care that she’d sat through every minute of his trial, and that she visited Nathaniel every week for twenty-two months.
Nathaniel had always been gruff and commanding, but there were times where a softer side emerged. In Anton’s memory, those instances usually involved his grandmother or Marie. Anton remembered one of his last visits with his grandfather. They were in the dingy, pale green visitor’s room, and Nathaniel was giving Anton business advice.
“Boy, when I’m out of here, we’re going to start new.”
“Yes, Sir, I told you about the project I’m working on with a friend.”
Nathaniel answered, “Yes, something about computers and getting information fast.”
“Yes, it’s called a search engine. We have some great ideas…”
“I don’t know about that, but I do know you need money to make money. I know you can begin this start-up computer search thing, and when it hits—move on. Buy, invest, sell, and just remember, it’s the bottom line. Your father always worried about people.” Nathaniel stood and paced behind the table. A habit he had when he was thinking, especially when the subject agitated him. It reminded Anton of watching a caged lion. “Where are those damn people now?” Nathaniel asked. Not waiting for a response, he continued, “They’re gone! They don’t give a damn about me, Marie, you, or even your damn parents. Do you think any of them give a shit if you have the money to grow this idea of yours?”
“No, sir, but that doesn’t matter. I’ll make this work.”
“Damn right, but it’s money that will help you. I’ve spoken with Marie about this. Regarding the money we’ve discussed, you can use as much as you need to get your project working. When I’m out of here, I’ll help with the growing, investing, and selling. Be smart, boy. If you have too much, the damn feds will be on you before you know it.”
“Thank you, sir, but I can’t take Marie’s money.”
“I know your father thinks very little of her, but that woman is one mighty remarkable woman. She doesn’t care about the money. Just don’t let your father get to her. I’m an old man. It helps me to know she has you on the outside to take care of her, if things get too rough.”
“I will do that, sir.”
As Anton walked in the shadows toward room 12 A, he thought about how rough things had become. He never expected this family feud to end this way, but he wasn’t completely surprised.
When he came to Santa Monica to visit his parents, Anton wanted to discuss the recent ruling successfully voiding Marie’s marriage. He wasn’t relishing the idea of listening to his parents’ victory speech.
Anton wanted to stop the lawsuit; he tried. By tolerating the ruling to pass, he felt he’d disappointed his grandfather. He’d hoped this visit could bring about a compromise. Samuel had made his point. Now that Marie was planning on appealing the decision, perhaps Samuel could allow her to proceed.
Anton never had the chance to talk to his father or his mother. When he entered their bungalow three days ago, he found them dead. Immediately, Anton knew Marie had made it there first.
Her rendition of events was not too farfetched, if you knew the history. According to Marie, she went to their home to talk. It was Samuel who exploded first. He ordered her off his property. When she refused and asked to explain, Amanda entered the conversation. Supporting her husband, she told Marie to leave. It was Marie’s second time to attempt this discussion. More than anything, she wanted to make them understand.
Marie was determined to talk until they listened. Amanda was the one to surprise Marie with a gun. Marie’s memories were fuzzy after that. There was a struggle. She didn’t intend to kill them, but once Samuel was shot, Marie knew that she’d be arrested if either of them lived. She couldn’t endure what Nathaniel had endured in prison—she just couldn’t. The combination of pent-up rage, years of degradation, fear, and self-preservation all fueled Marie’s ability to stage the final scene. She knew the exuberance of the gun shots nullified the murder/suicide theory, yet Marie hoped the scene she staged would aid in that notion.
Next, Marie turned up their television and cleaned away evidence of their scuffle. Her finger prints were wiped away. By all accounts, she was still in New York. There were no records of her traveling to California. No one knew she was there. No one—except Anton. She’d driven the 3,000 miles in her own old Honda, using cash along the way.
Opening the door of 12 A, Anton entered the small, stale hotel room. The stench of old tobacco and bodily fluids filled Ant
on’s senses. It was enough to quench any desire he’d previously had of food. Nonetheless, he brought food from a local drive-thru. Placing the bag and cups on the small table, he said, “I brought this for you.” “Anton, I want to get out of this dump. When will it be safe for me to leave?”
He paced the only space large enough to take more than three steps, near the end of the bed. He considered sitting; however, the filth and stains on the furniture quickly changed his mind. “It will just be for a few more days. I’ve been talking to the police and making all the necessary arrangements. So far, the neighbor, Chester, is cooperating. He made one statement that first night to some cop. After that, he conveniently forgot about my father’s sister’s visit.”
“It’s going to cost money to keep him quiet, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but I’ve negotiated. It won’t all be up front, more of a yearly settlement.”
“Did he agree?” Marie asked.
“I’m a very good negotiator. He understands sudden wealth brings questions. This will be mutually beneficial. Over time, his payments will increase, and it assures us of his future cooperation.”
Marie stood before Anton. He looked at the woman that his grandfather loved. She looked so much older. Her tired gray eyes cried out in anguish over the events of the past few months. She’d lost her husband, her name, and now her money. Anton knew he could turn her in to the police and go on with his life. Marie knew that too.
“I’ll repay you for this,” she said with her eyes lowered toward the grime on the worn carpeting. Marie continued, “I know you’re doing this for Nathaniel, not for me, but I thank you.”
Anton lifted her chin; she was his grandfather’s wife, and she needed to act as such. “You’re right, and you’re a Rawls; don’t ever look down like that. I’m the one who failed him by not stopping my father’s lawsuit. I will not fail him again.”
The Consequences Series Box Set Page 101
