Consequences(243)

“Yes.”

“Where are you?” he asked, pointing at a photo.

“Manhattan.”

“So, you were shopping in Manhattan”—he shook his head—“The inhumanity of this prison! How much did you have to spend, or let me ask, do you know how much you spent on this particular shopping trip?”

Claire did. “Yes, I spent five thousand but I was told to—”

“Mrs. Rawlings, let’s continue. Did you have a credit card once you were married?”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever have the opportunity to use it?”

“Yes.”

He was looking right at her. “This money thing wasn’t so bad now—was it?”

“I didn’t want the money. I don’t want the money. I told Tony I didn’t care about his money—”

Marcus’ associate showed Claire an e-mail address and telephone number, as Mr. Evergreen continued the questioning, “Mrs. Rawlings do you recognize this e-mail address?”

“Yes.”

“It’s yours. Is that correct?”

“Yes, it is, but—”

“Mrs. Rawlings, whose cell phone number is this?”

“Mine.”

“Mrs. Rawlings, I thought that you said you were isolated—no way to communicate. Let me see, I believe I have photos of you and your husband in Hawaii, Lake Tahoe, San Francisco, and yes, in Europe. Mrs. Rawlings, did you enjoy the south of France?”

Claire’s head pounded with increasing intensity.

Mr. Evergreen went into a long tirade about how an unemployed weather girl deep in debt latched on to a lonely wealthy businessman with no heirs. This was an entrepreneur that not only made his fortune through hard work, but was highly regarded due to his benevolent endeavors. She then seduced him into employing her as a live-in prostitute and lured him into marrying her without a prenuptial agreement. Given the perfect opportunity, this tawdry woman put poison into her poor, unsuspecting husband’s coffee. If that weren’t enough, she sent his driver away on a wild-goose chase, and drove away. It would have worked, except with technology as it was, fifteen people witnessed the collapse, and help arrived in time. The prosecution had many character witnesses willing to testify to the generous spirit and good-heartedness of Mr. Rawlings. No one would back her slanderous accusations of this respectable man.

Hadn’t she been told over and over again, appearances were everything? The small room became smaller. Claire’s head and heart hurt. She saw the pictures and the expressions of her attorneys. She heard Marcus Evergreen’s accusations and tasted the sour bile as her stomach twisted and turned.





We cannot change our memories, but we can change their meaning and the power they have over us.



—David Seamands





Chapter Fifty


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He stared at the paint on the cinder block wall. Why did they always use the same pale green? If it was supposed to look cheery, it failed. Anton continued to watch the wall, even though he heard the door and knew the guard and prisoner had entered. He couldn’t bear to see his grandfather being led around. Anton waited, hands in pockets, until he heard the door close again. Turning around, he met the eyes, the dark defiant eyes. If his grandfather were wearing a suit and if the metal table were a mahogany desk, Nathaniel would look like the man in Anton’s memory. Despite his circumstances, Nathaniel’s expression hadn’t changed. They may’ve put him in this damn prison, but they sure as hell weren’t keeping his mind here.