He looked deep into her eyes. He’d trusted her and she’d failed him. He spoke softly, “The entire thing seems to be a colossal accident. However, I’ve done some research and it seems you can plead insanity and receive treatment instead of incarceration.”
She sprung from her chair and started to pace. “What are you saying? I’m not pleading insanity! That means guilty and crazy—I’m neither! And this wasn’t an accident. I didn’t try to kill you!”
He stood and moved very close. Looking down, he whispered, “Claire, listen. I’ve found a mental hospital that is willing to accept you. I’ll pay the expenses so the taxpayers aren’t responsible for your lack of judgment.”
“I’ve been here for over a week. I’ve been questioned over and over. I haven’t divulged any private information. I’ve followed all the rules. The only rule I broke was driving a car. That’s it!”
She was too loud. He kept his voice low, trying to make her understand. “This plea will avoid a trial. The entire unfortunate incident is understandable. You came from a modest background. The life we shared had pressures and responsibilities—with entertaining, charities, and reporters. It’s understandable. You just couldn’t handle it.”
Claire sat. Tony walked to her and bent down to maintain eye contact. “I should’ve recognized the signs. Perhaps, I was too busy with work. When you recently canceled your charity obligations, I should’ve realized how overwhelmed you felt.” He fought the disappointment that fueled an unneeded rage. Although he tried to sound reassuring, authority prevailed in his tone. This was too important. Claire needed to listen to every word. It was what he’d done after her accident; he planted the seed and she obediently embedded its roots. He wanted the same outcome. Just as she’d responded to Dr. Leonard, he needed her to respond to her attorneys. “You wanted out, and in a moment of weakness—no, in a moment of insanity— you decided the only way out was to try to kill me. I’m only thankful that you underestimated the amount of poison needed or you may have succeeded. After all, if you’d succeeded, I wouldn’t be here to help you now.” He pulled out a chair and sat facing his wife. “Aren’t you glad I’m able to help you? And, Claire …” He leaned nearer. “… I hear the rooms at the mental facility are larger than the cells at the federal penitentiary.”
Tony expected a sign of recognition. He expected her to grab the lifeline he was throwing and hold on with both hands. It was a gift. She’d disappointed him—failed his test, publicly and privately—yet instead of walking away, he was offering her an out. This solution would help her and fulfill his need for control. Claire was his—her belongings, her portrait, and most importantly, her. He was angry. She had a long way to go to earn back his trust, but nonetheless, he was offering her an out. Claire needed to understand that he was helping her.
When she straightened her neck and met his eyes, he immediately realized—she wasn’t taking his offer. The fire he loved to see was burning a blaze brighter than he’d ever seen. Didn’t she understand? He loved that strength, but now wasn’t the time. Now she needed to redeem herself.
Tony stood in amazement of the defiance before him. He wouldn’t beg her! Damn her. This was crucial! He continued, disappointment audible in his tone, “Utilize the time you have to think this over. Don’t make another poor, impulsive decision. This is your best offer.” He knocked on the door. “Goodbye, Claire.”
She didn’t respond as he stepped back into the hall.
“Mr. Rawlings?” Marcus asked. “Is everything set?”
Counselor Allyson spoke, “This decision cannot be made without our input.”
Tony turned toward the outspoken attorney. “Then I suggest that you convince your client that she has been offered a gift, and she should take it.” With that, he nodded and walked down the hallway, leaving the group momentarily silent. The voice in his head cursed Claire’s independence and stubbornness, pushing Tony to walk faster and faster.
Damn her! Damn her! A reprieve? A small break? Claire had left him! And now she was being obstinate!
Tony reasoned that she just needed time to consider his offer. A grin emerged as he reached the door of the courthouse. Yes, time, that was what she needed, time alone to think.
It had worked before. It would work again.
Reputation is rarely proportioned to virtue.
—Saint Francis de Sales
“Mr. Rawlings, Mr. Evergreen is calling.” Patricia’s voice came through the speaker.
Tony turned away from the computer screen. “I’ll take it.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll send it through.”
It had been two days since Tony had visited the courthouse, two days since he’d given Claire the gift of an out. He knew she was upset at the time, but he had faith that her better judgment would eventually prevail. This was the first he’d heard from the prosecutor since that afternoon.
“Marcus, I assume you have some good news for me.”
Marcus Evergreen cleared his throat. “Um, not exactly, Mr. Rawlings.”
Tony’s grip tightened on the receiver, yet his tone remained affable. “Would you like to be more specific?”
“Can you come to my office?”
Tony contemplated his schedule. He’d already wasted too much of his time on this whole mess. “I just returned back to my work, and things are backed up. Are you sure this can’t be handled over the phone or by email?”
“Well, I think … see … I believe it would be in your best interest—”
“Marcus, spit it out. Time is money.”
“Mr. Rawlings, j-just moments ago, I received Paul Task’s preliminary brief. I haven’t had a chance to read the entire document. It’s quite long, but I’ve read enough—”
Tony interrupted, “Tell me that she’s taking my offer.”
“That’s the thing, sir. She isn’t. She’s made allegations …” Marcus continued to speak, but his words faded into the buzz of seeping crimson. “… why I thought you might prefer if I didn’t email this?”
“Marcus, I told you she was crazy. This is ridiculous!”
“Do you want me to email—”
“No! I don’t want you to email or show it to another soul! I’ll be there in less than thirty minutes.” Tony hung up the phone before Marcus could respond.
Tony contemplated his response to whatever was in Claire’s statement. As soon as Tony hung up with Marcus, he called for Eric. When he learned that Eric was at the estate, Patricia willingly offered her car. The entire drive, Tony’s mind was on Claire. What had she said? Would she really divulge private information? His leather gloves strained from the grip on the poor car’s steering wheel. He wouldn’t allow this information to go public. Hell, he didn’t even want his attorneys to be involved. Tony debated his options.
Taking a deep breath he entered the prosecutor’s office. It bustled with people—men and women in suits coming and going all different directions. Mr. Evergreen’s secretary, a young blonde woman with a nameplate that read Kirstin, stood at the ready. As soon as she saw Mr. Rawlings, she immediately escorted him to the unimpressive office. Marcus stood as Tony entered, and the two momentarily stared in silence. The frightened young lady took one last look at the two men and backed out quietly, shutting the door and allowing them their privacy.