Truth

called. There was a package waiting downstairs for Claire. They wanted to confirm her presence before bringing it to her unit. Leaving Tony in her room, she went to the door and greeted the security guard with the potted plant. It wasn’t the same man who saved her. But everyone within 365 Forest Avenue knew what had transpired.
    “ Ms. Nichols, we’re all so glad you’re safe.”
    “ Thank you, I am.”
    “ Here’s your delivery. Obviously, lots of people are worried about you.” The young man handed her the plastic wrapped arrangement and scanned the envelope. “This is you, right?”
    Claire read the card: Claire Nichols Rawls.
    Feeling suddenly faint, she called for Tony. He immediately appeared by her side, took the card, saw the name, and rudely ordered, “Take this away”.
    Claire didn’t have the presence of mind or words to mend Tony’s negativity. Instead, she merely nodded. The guard apologized and left with the plant.
    Tony opened the envelope – nothing... not even a card within. “I’ll find out who’s doing this, I promise.”
    The conviction in his voice reassured Claire. Tony meant every word. She stood straighter, nodded, held back tears, and walked past him toward her room. Before she could pass, Tony seized her arm and stopped her movement. Claire looked up at him indignantly and watched his eyes darken as his voice echoed against the long hallway and wooden floors, “You are not staying here another night.”
    Her bruise-covered face and pained expression were more than Tony could take. It wasn’t a debatable statement.
    Claire nodded, “I know. I want to pack.”
    He released her arm, “While you do, I’ll make some calls. May I go into the living room?”
    “ Yes, Amber knows we’re here. She’s giving us space.”
    “ She doesn’t want to see me.” His statement wasn’t judgmental -- just a statement. Either way, he was right; Amber was purposely avoiding the condominium. She wasn’t the only one opposed to Claire’s decisions. Emily repeatedly chided her. John avoided her at all costs, and Claire hadn’t spoken to Harry since the hospital room.
    With the recent turn of events, Tony’s estate seemed much safer than California, if only temporarily. Claire packed while Tony made calls. His efforts were rewarded as he learned: the flowers and plant came from two separate florists. One was ordered over the telephone, the other over the internet. The caller ordering the flowers claimed to be Mrs. Rawls and used a purchased credit card, the kind available at any retailer across the country. The internet order appeared to be made by Claire herself; all the information entered into the order form was hers. It was also purchased with the same type of credit card, but from a different retailer. Tony also had people working to track the origin of the credit cards and someone checking the fingerprint of the computer placing the internet order.
    Claire didn’t understand it all, but if it led Tony to the person sending the threatening gifts, she was all for it.
    Although Tony repeatedly told Claire she didn’t need any of her clothes or anything that wasn’t of emotional value, she packed as much as her luggage would hold. Her belongings were the things she’d accumulated on her own; everything from her lingerie to the flip-flops she wore on the beach with Courtney meant something. Securing her jewelry in a small velvet bag she fingered her new diamond stud earrings. Admittedly, they weren’t as large as the ones she sold. But, nevertheless, they were hers, bought by her. She didn’t want to part with them.
    Claire struggled with her research. Even though her laptop was still missing, she had hard copies of everything. Did she want to take all of that to Tony’s? Claire decided she should. She didn’t know anymore who to believe or who to trust. What if someone used her information to hurt Tony? It was safer with her.
    By the time Claire finished packing, it was late and she was tired.
    Tony conceded, “We can spend the night in Palo Alto at my hotel. Tomorrow we’ll come back for your things and leave for Iowa.” Claire agreed. There was no need for debate. Every time she walked into the living room, in her mind, she saw Patrick Chester.
    As she settled into the passenger seat of his rental car, exhaustion hit. By the time they arrived at the Marriott where he’d rented the Presidential Suite, Claire was sound asleep. Tony’s words woke her gently as he opened