Convicted (2 page)

Emily looked up as the dark-haired little girl came running toward them. Undaunted by the visitor, Nichol spoke loud and clear, “Momma”—shaking her little head, she corrected—“I mean, Aunt Em, Mikey’s not sharing. I want my...”

Meredith stared, mesmerized by the young girl’s features. Her long, dark hair was pulled into two pigtails which swung side to side as she ran. Her light complexion emphasized her pink sun-kissed cheeks, and her deep brown eyes shimmered in the sunlight. Meredith recognized the intensity of the young girl’s stare, the perfect combination of her parents; however, the determination and diction in the small voice unquestionably came from her father.

This was the closest Meredith had been to Anthony and Claire’s child. With all of her heart, Meredith wanted to pull the little girl into her arms and hug her tight—anything to help make Claire’s daughter’s world a better place.

While Emily rectified the situation between the children, Meredith pondered the events that brought them all here today—the events that changed Nichol’s life forever. Meredith remembered the Claire Nichols of the past—the carefree young woman who skipped class at Valparaiso to spend the day at Wrigley Field. She recalled the woman who recounted horrific details of a life she never wanted or deserved, and she recollected the last time they met—almost three years ago.

Claire had arranged their meeting. She wanted to discuss Meredith’s first book
My Life As It Didn’t Appear
. Claire desired to stop the publication.

Momentarily, Meredith recalled Claire’s countenance—finally happy and obviously in love. While they ate lunch in Chicago, Claire opened up, talking about her change of heart, and confessing her pregnancy. It was a step of faith on Claire’s part. Her pregnancy hadn’t been publicly announced, yet during that luncheon, Claire entrusted her long-time friend with her special news. Undoubtedly, it could’ve been a great coup, but Meredith wouldn’t leak the news. She’d done that to her friend once before, and the repercussions of that deception would haunt Meredith forever.

Unfortunately, the book was beyond Meredith’s influence; it was in the hands of a publisher with specific instructions. Claire offered any amount of money to hide the story—forever. She worried that someday her child would learn the truth behind her parents’ meeting, and Claire didn’t want that to happen.

Meredith promised Claire she’d try—and she did.

Then, less than a month later, Claire disappeared—the disclosure clause of their contract went into motion. Publication was imminent. Meredith’s efforts, along with a multitude of Rawlings’ attorneys, were unable to keep the book from being published. Upon publication,
My Life As it Didn’t Appear
entered the bestseller list and has broken records ever since.

Meredith hoped that by continuing their story—telling the world the rest of their saga, maybe—just maybe—someday Nichol would understand.

Emily’s voice brought Meredith back to present. “The answer is
no
, and if you release any information about Nichol, I’ll have you fined, and with my husband’s help—arrested.”

“I’m not here to expose Nichol,” Meredith continued. “I’m here because I want to talk to Claire. The people at the Everwood facility said all visitors must be approved by you; therefore, I’m asking for your permission.”

Emily sat taller. “Ms. Banks, I’m not sure what part of this conversation you’re not hearing or comprehending, but the answer is
no
.” Before Meredith could respond, Emily continued, “Besides, it wouldn’t do you any good. Claire can’t tell you her story—she can’t answer your questions.”

“Then let me just talk with her.”

“Don’t you understand? She can’t
talk
to anyone.”

“The staff didn’t say visitors were restricted due to her condition. They said they’re restricted due to your insistence.”

“Ms. Banks—so help me God—if I read about this in a news release, I’ll come after you myself. Do you understand?”

Meredith nodded and replied, “I want to help Claire—I truly do. I want to expose the truth so the world will know what happened.”

Emily continued, “I’m only telling you this because my sister considered you a friend. Some of the doctors call it a psychotic break brought on by physical and mental stress. Others have said it’s the result of multiple head injuries.” Shaking her head, she added, “Claire hasn’t spoken to
anyone
in over two years!”

Meredith’s mind swirled. She’d read about the insanity plea. She knew the history and read about the incident. Truly, if anyone had reason to be insane, it was Claire, yet Meredith hadn’t considered the severity of the situation. “What do you mean?” She lowered her voice. “Claire
can’t
talk
?”

“No—not exactly, she speaks. Sometimes she carries on conversations—just not with anyone present. She doesn’t know where she is or even that she has a child. Sometimes she’s a child—other times she’s with
him
. Honestly, out of context, it’s difficult to tell what she’s thinking at any given time.”

“So, when Nichol just called you Momm—”

Emily interrupted, “Nichol knows I’m her aunt, but sometimes, with Michael calling me Mom—she forgets.”

“Maybe I could help? I could talk with Claire and help bring her back?”

A tear slid down Emily’s cheek as she watched the children’s interaction. “If I thought there was a chance, I’d allow you access immediately, but honestly, if those of us who do visit can’t reach her—if Nichol couldn’t reach her”—Emily sat taller as her tone hardened—“No. Please don’t come around or ask again.”

“Emily, what about Mr. Rawlings?”

Emily abruptly turned toward Meredith, her tone now a resonating growl of a mother bear. “
He’s
gone, and I will
not
allow anyone to mention his name around Claire or Nichol. His reign of terror over my family is done!”

“But one day—”

Emily abruptly stood, dismissing Meredith. “Goodbye, Ms. Banks. I’m taking
my
children home. If I
ever
see your face again or read any of this conversation—anywhere—I won’t only press charges, but I’ll make it my goal to see you behind bars. Good day.”

Meredith nodded in understanding, remained upon the bench, and watched as Emily lifted Michael into her arms and reached for Nichol’s hand. Without turning around or acknowledging their conversation, Emily held tightly to the children and walked away.

It was obvious Emily loved and cared for both children; nevertheless, Meredith questioned the fairness of Nichol’s situation. If things stayed status quo, Meredith feared Nichol would never know the truth about both of her parents.

The sounds of the busy park were lost to the gentle whisper of the breeze as Meredith contemplated her own children; she couldn’t imagine her life without them. She wondered about Claire, unable to imagine the emptiness and sense of loss her sorority sister must be enduring. Everything and everyone she’d ever held dear was gone. Before Meredith realized, the park blurred and tears coated her cheeks.

She’d read the news reports and knew in her heart that there was a story in need of telling. Truly, she didn’t care about the money or the fame. Her memory went to a pledge—one made a lifetime ago. She and Claire pledged sisterhood. It wasn’t a blood bond like the one Claire shared with Emily—it was more—it was a commitment. Meredith refused to allow her
sister
to be lost forever—somehow she’d learn the truth.

She remembered the day—years ago—when she met Claire in San Diego. During their discussion, Meredith told her friend about a desire to tell the world the
truth
no matter the
consequences
. Perhaps Emily would choose to prosecute; however, as Meredith watched the small family disappear over the hill toward the parking lot, her mind was set. If Claire’s mental health and Nichol’s solace resulted in arrest—so be it. She’d rather be
convicted
for being a true sister than live her life free and allow that beautiful little girl to live uninformed.

The private mental health facility, Everwood, was as beautiful as the website boasted. It was an upscale residential mental treatment center exclusively for women located in the countryside near Cedar Rapids. On forty-eight beautiful acres it had walking paths and nature trails—perfect for Claire.

Meredith knew Claire’s initial institutionalization was the result of a legal plea. At the time of the plea, Claire had been placed in a state operated facility. That placement was short-lived, and she was moved to this esteemed private facility with top-notched security, confidential care, and a respected staff.

As next of kin and power of attorney, Emily Vandersol had complete jurisdiction over Claire’s treatment. Without Emily’s permission, Meredith couldn’t approach Claire in the facility’s guest accessible areas, much less Claire’s private room; therefore, in order to access her sorority sister, Meredith had to devise a plan. She’d always dreamt of being an investigative journalist—now was her time.

The money she’d made from the sales of her book afforded her children the best education. Currently, that was at a respected boarding school on the East Coast. Although she hated having them so far away, that distance permitted Meredith the time and freedom she needed to learn Claire’s story.

Her plan wasn’t complicated—if she couldn’t visit Claire as a guest—Meredith decided she’d frequent the facility as an employee. She didn’t have the credentials to impersonate a therapist or doctor, but fortunately, the center was in need of kitchen staff.

A small investment to a questionable source provided Meredith with a falsified identification complete with a verifiable past work history. She wasn’t sure she could remember to answer to a different name; therefore, Meredith chose to use her husband’s last name—one she rarely used. An interview and sob-story later, Meredith Russel was hired by Everwood Behavioral Center. As Meredith looked in the mirror, smoothing the white cafeteria uniform, she smirked—a bit sarcastically and thought,
my life’s ambition is now complete—I have a minimum wage position.

The first few days of her new job were merely research. She needed to learn the lay of the land and the ins and outs of Everwood. Almost immediately, she learned Claire was listed as
Nichols
. Claire didn’t participate in group activities, group counseling sessions, or eat in the common dining room. Meals were taken to her room, and the note on the computer indicated that on occasion, feeding assistance was required.

Apparently, Ms. Nichols sometimes went outdoors accompanied by her therapist, facility staff, or limited visitors. The first time Meredith saw Claire, her long ago sorority sister was returning from such a walk...

Claire knew she loved the outdoors. She always had—the wind in her face—the smell of fresh cut grass or newly fallen leaves—kindled warm feelings. She knew it somehow connected to her past—she didn’t know how—or remember a name or a face—but something about nature brought a feeling of security. When she was led outside, she’d close her eyes, wanting to see the world as a new place. Often times, flashes of a man in uniform came and went. Claire assumed these feelings and sense of safety also came from her past. Assumptions were much easier than questions.

She didn’t question—anything. Claire understood her only access to the fresh breeze or the sun on her skin was when she was accompanied by another person. She didn’t always know the person beside her, but she did know accessing the refreshing outside without someone else was against the rules. She knew all about rules and how to follow them. Oh, it was true that, in the past, she’d made mistakes—used poor judgment—or made poor decisions—decisions that resulted in unfavorable consequences. That’s what Tony taught her—behaviors had consequences.

Claire preferred positive consequences. Yes, more than once she’d disappointed him. With each passing day, she vowed to not let him down—again. After what she’d done—she wasn’t sure it mattered; nonetheless, since it was all she had left—she wouldn’t let go—she wouldn’t disappoint.

During her days, people with different faces and different voices came and went. Their words weren’t real, and sometimes the food they delivered wasn’t either. Oh, it looked real. She could even smell the aroma as they entered her room, but if it were real, she’d be hungry. Most of the time, she wasn’t.

There were people who helped her shower, dress, and fix her hair. At first, she fought their assistance and intrusion; then with time, she chose to accept their help. In a way, it was comforting. She’d been taught the importance of maintaining appearances, and since day-to-day activities were too overwhelming, the assistance of these faceless hands helped her fulfill her responsibility.

Under no circumstance did she want to disappoint Tony. Sometimes the tears overwhelmed her. After all, she had to live with the reality—she surely disappointed him.
Why else would he not make his presence known to everyone?
Occasionally, people would tell her he was
gone
. Claire knew better.

She knew he was there. Even if the faceless people couldn’t see or hear him—he was there. When he came to her she could truly sleep and dream. She lived for his touch—it took away the suffocating ache that filled her otherwise empty life. Yes, there had been times when they were together that there was pain; however, it was nothing like the pain of not knowing when he’d return; therefore, when they were together, she’d compartmentalize that pain away. While he was there, she’d refuse to show her misery. It would remain her private agony—after what she’d done—she deserved it.