Truth (7 page)

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, 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 gentleman, if
that is all? I have work…”

Anthony’s voice resonated
low and menacing, “Ms. Allyson, I am 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, 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 would gladly do so again. If you have
complaints about her pardon, 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, 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 are correct, Ms. Allyson. My client is obviously distraught
over the recent turn of events. You can understand his concern.
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 did not 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 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
seven-thirty 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 five until seven. 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 eleven o’clock 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.

Claire wasn’t advertising her location.
However, short of assuming an alternate identity, she knew she
couldn’t stay completely hidden. In an effort to avoid a trail of
credit card receipts or loans, she utilized cash as much as
possible. The recent expenditures took their toll on her $100,000.
Although she currently had no living expenses that would inevitably
change. A one bedroom condo on the third floor would become
available soon. Claire weighed the pros of living close to Amber
and Harry, her only two friends against the cons of her unknown
future employment.

Obtaining work was high on
her priority list. However, it wasn’t easy. She wanted to work in
meteorology. Her lack of recent experience and desire to avoid any
station or weather organization connected to Rawlings Industries
severely limited her options.
Six minutes
left on the elliptical.

Without a job, she needed more money. One
evening while talking to Emily on the phone, the subject of her
jewelry came up. When arrested, Claire was wearing diamond
earrings, a diamond journey necklace, a diamond watch, and of
course her engagement and wedding rings. If it had been up to her,
she would’ve only been wearing the rings. Now as she struggled to
complete the final five minutes on the machine, Claire smiled. If
only her ex-husband knew how his insistence for her to wear the
jewelry would probably net her a fine profit. Today’s meeting was
to determine the value of her bounty.

Harry recommended Mr. Pulvara. He only deals
in high quality jewelry, not a common pawn broker. It didn’t take
an expert to know Claire’s jewelry was very high quality. However,
Mr. Pulvara only sees clients through recommendations and by
appointment. Thanks to Amber she had both.

Claire valued Harry’s
recommendation. His connections in the Bay Area went beyond his
real job as President of Security for SiJo Gaming. Amber joked
about being her brother’s boss. Nevertheless, with a degree in
Criminology and five years’ experience with the Bureau of
Investigation and Intelligence, under the California Department of
Justice as an investigator, Harry was more than qualified.
Two minutes remained on the elliptical
display
; thankfully the resistance
lessened.

Claire returned her
attention to the TV. Suddenly, her lungs deflated, not from
exercise, but from the picture on the screen. She stared helplessly
at her wedding picture, the one released to the media. Although
closed caption flowed across the bottom, she couldn’t concentrate.
Finally her mind focused, and she read,
“…Bosley, diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer. It is
unclear why Ms. Nichols’s name was not released to the public.
Governor Preston has promised a full investigation. Mr. Anthony
Rawlings’ publicist stated Mr. Rawlings is shocked by this turn of
events. He has no comment at this time. MSNBC has not been able to
reach Ms. Nichols for comment.”

Her legs no longer moved; the machine moved
her. She gawked at the television as the newscaster progressed with
other stories. When her feet hit the solid floor, her muscles
tightened. Claire knew she should cool-down properly, and although
her legs yelled in protest, the voices inside her head
conquered.

Claire looked to the
mirrors completely covering one wall of the gym. Normally she
didn’t like seeing herself hot and sweaty. However, today she
couldn’t look away. She wondered;
do the
other people watching the same program recognize me?
The bride in the picture beamed photogenic. Her
porcelain complexion, blonde hair, and designer dress looked so
different from the woman in the mirror. Other than her eyes, which
Claire immediately diverted to the floor, the differences
outnumbered the similarities.

Her thoughts swirled as
she rode the elevator to the fourth floor. Entering the
condominium, she called to Amber -- no answer.
She’s probably already left for work.
Claire sat at the kitchen table. Ignoring the perspiration
dripping down her back and between her breasts, and booted up her
new laptop. While the PC came to life, she searched for her
telephones. She actually had two! It was probably silly, but she
had her real iPhone with a blocked number and a
pay as you go
phone. The latter was
used to communicate with Emily and Courtney. Claire was trying to
stay under the radar. Her iPhone was on her bedside stand, but she
couldn’t find the other, which was strange. That phone rarely left
her side, being her primary source of communication with her
sister. The two siblings were working on their relationship. They’d
talked more during the past two weeks than in years.

Back in the kitchen, she
drank a glass of water, made a cup of coffee, and began to read the
homepage. She saw two photos: her wedding picture and the cover of
Vanity Fair. Her stomach twisted as she read the article. It
divulged her public life during the last two and a half years: her
marriage, lack of prenuptial agreement, lavish trips, high-end
shopping, charge of
attempted
murder
, plea of
no contest
, and sentencing. As she
began the part about the pardon, she heard the front door. Turning
to the source, Claire watched as Harry came toward her. His liquid
blue eyes flooded with compassion.
Obviously he’s seen the news
. He
held her other telephone in his outstretched hand.

Trying to sound strong she took the phone,
“Thank you, I guess I left that at your place last night.” Amber
may have better food, but Harry had the better television. Last
night the three of them watched a Lakers game at Harry’s. Claire
wasn’t really a basketball fan, which goes against her Indiana
roots. It’s just that the Hoosier glory days were before her time.
She’d heard stories, but they never ignited a passion for the
sport.

Her expression, the moisture in her eyes,
and her obvious interruption from a work-out, told Harry Claire saw
the news. Handing her the telephone he said, “This keeps chirping,
I think your battery is about to die.” He looked into her green
eyes, “Claire, are you all right?”

She sat straighter. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank
you for asking.”

His compassion changed to surprise, “Oh, I
just worried that … well, when I saw the news… all right.” He
turned back to the coffee machine.

Claire checked the
telephone – two text messages and one voice mail. She checked the
texts. The first was from Courtney, sent at 10:45 PM last night
–
TONY JUST LEARNED YOU’RE OUT OF PRISON.
YELLING AT BRENT. NOT HAPPY. WANTS ANSWERS. LOVE YOU. WILL TELL
MORE WHEN I CAN. STAY SAFE.
Claire stared
at the screen.
Why didn’t I see this last
night?
She didn’t hear it beep with the
game. Fear swept through her in a wave as her heart beat wildly in
her ears.

“
Claire, what does it
say?”

She looked from the screen to Harry and
shook her head. She tried to hide her fear, but she couldn’t hide
the tears slipping from her eyes. She hit another button and
continued to read.

Sniffing, she wiped her
eyes, tried to appear composed, and read through blurred vision.
The time read 6 AM - only two hours ago, also from Courtney,
PRIVATE DETEC TRYING TO FIND YOU. KNOWS ABOUT
CANCELLED TIX TO SAN FRAN. CHECKING OUT INDIANA. CHECKING EMILYS
PHONE RECORDS. HEARD TONY’S VOICE W/ BRENT. NOT HAPPY!!!! BE
CAREFUL.

Silently, Harry stood motionless, intently
watching Claire’s every move.

“
I’m sorry,” she offered,
“I need to check this voice mail.” She didn’t want to answer
his
what
question, and hoped he’d leave her alone to listen. He
didn’t, although he went back to his coffee on the counter and gave
her some space. Claire activated her voice mail and listened to
Emily’s voice:

“
Claire, it’s a little
after four in the morning here. That’s what? Two there, I think. I
know you’re asleep but you need to know, I just got a call
at this hour
, from some
man named Roach. He said he’s a private investigator working for
a
mutual friend
.
He said you may be in danger and needs to know your
location,
for your
protection
, he said. I didn’t believe him.
Please call and tell me you’re safe.” Claire’s tears multiplied as
she listened to her sister’s scared voice. “He said he knows I’ve
been talking to a disposable phone in California and asked if it’s
you. I just kept saying
, I don’t know
where she is and I have no other comment
.
Finally, I hung-up on him. Can they really look into my phone
records? I’ll get one of those phones too. I’ll call you later with
the number… so even though you don’t recognize it, please answer. I
love you, and I really do believe all you’ve told me. Let me know
you’re safe. Bye.”

Warnings and alarms rushed
through Claire’s mind as time stood still. Her body involuntarily
sought to run -- the flight instinct. However,
that
monologue had been talked to
death -- run where? She’d started a life. Therefore, flight wasn’t
an option. Therefore, biology told her to fight. Not physically,
Claire
knew
that
wasn’t possible. This scenario was what she’d hoped to avoid. The
text messages and voicemail confirmed her fear.