Consequences(232)

“Mrs. Rawlings, do you have any idea what was in the mug that your husband drank from?”

She knew exactly what was in that mug: coffee, made by her. “Yes, officer, I would assume the mug contained coffee. Just before I left, I took him a cup of coffee.” Her stomach was now a tangle of knots.

“You and your husband don’t have household servants who usually prepare the food and drinks?”

“We do, but he asked me to get him coffee.” Claire definitely didn’t like how this was going. “I believe I need an attorney.”

“Ma’am, you haven’t yet been charged; however, asking for representation is your right. Be aware your husband’s legal counsel has sent word that representing you would be a conflict of interest. You’ll need to secure your own counsel.”

“I would like to call John Vandersol, my brother-in-law”—as the words left her mouth she remembered John’s incarceration—“No, wait—I can’t.”

Another officer entered the room and began to talk with Sergeant Miles. After the two whispered, Sergeant Miles spoke. “Mrs. Claire Rawlings, my commanding officer has informed me the prosecuting attorney of Iowa City believes there’s enough circumstantial evidence to hold you in this facility overnight and transport you back to Iowa City in the morning. The chief prosecutor of Iowa believes he will have an official warrant for your arrest signed by the judge by the time you arrive.”

Claire heard the words but couldn’t comprehend their meaning. Her internal voice tried to replay the day: I dressed in what I was told, was in Tony’s office at the time he told me to be, and asked like a five-year-old if I could go outside. This morning I poured my husband a cup of coffee, the coffee he asked me to get. Now, I am about to be charged with attempted murder?

Another officer directed Claire to a cell. It was small, clean, and had a door that locked. Worried about Tony—she couldn’t sleep. There was no one at home that morning, except the two of them and the regular staff. Everyone on the staff had been with Tony for years, and he implicitly trusted them. None of them would hurt him. She worried, had he regained consciousness? Was the poison in the coffee in the pot? Maybe it was in the cream?

Claire wanted them to try to find the real criminal before he tried to hurt Tony again. Claire knew, when Tony regained consciousness, he’d tell them she didn’t—couldn’t do this—and take her home.





No one can make you feel inferior without your permission.



—Eleanor Roosevelt





Chapter Forty-Eight


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Yesterday, Claire drove in a luxurious Mercedes Benz to St. Louis. The trip back to Iowa City—riding in the back of a police wagon, wearing handcuffs and accompanied by a uniformed officer—wasn’t as comfortable. When they arrived, the county courthouse steps were filled with reporters and photographers. Claire tried to shield her face as people took pictures from all directions and shouted questions—“Why did you try to kill your husband?” “Did you do it for the money?” “Did you think you would get away with it?” Thankfully, the police rushed her through the crowd and into the building.

She couldn’t believe what she heard. How could they possibly be asking such questions? Claire worried about Emily. First John and now her—what must she be going through? Claire reassured herself, once Tony wakes, he’ll take care of everything.

The officer took Claire to another room with a table and Marcus Evergreen entered. She recognized him immediately. He attended her wedding, and she accompanied Tony to one of his fund-raisers. Claire thought Tony donated to his campaign. “Mrs. Rawlings, I’m Marcus Evergreen, chief prosecutor for Johnson County.”