“Yes.”
“And he’s willing to talk to us?”
Harry turned toward Claire, “Yes. Well, kind of.”
“What do you mean, kind of?”
“He was hesitant until I told him you’re a Rawls. And you needed to talk to him.”
“I wasn’t a ...”
“Theoretically you were.” He interrupted, “Just let me do most of the talking”
Claire looked at him pensively.
“Do you think you can do this?”
Claire exhaled, “I guess.”
Harry squeezed her hand again, “It’ll be fine, I promise. And, if my gut is right, this could be enlightening.”
Claire laid her head back, closed her eyes, and fought the onset of a headache, “All right, are we almost there?”
“A few more minutes.”
Claire watched as the houses grew and the yards became expertly landscaped. Slowly Harry pulled the Mustang up to large iron gates and stopped at a guardhouse.
“May I help you, sir?” the uniformed man asked.
Harry removed his Ray-Bans and responded, “Yes, Harrison Baldwin here to see Patrick Chester.”
The man in the small building referenced an electronic tablet and nodded, “Yes, sir. 100023 Fairway Drive. You’ll just need to continue left, then right at the round-a-bout.”
Harry thanked the man and eased the car forward.
Claire leaned toward Harry, “This is a very nice neighborhood. What does Patrick Chester do?”
Harry hadn’t replaced his sunglasses. Claire saw the twinkle in his eye, as he answered, “He’s retired. But before that, he was in retail.”
“Retail? Like he owned some amazing chain or overpriced boutique.”
“He didn’t own anything. He was middle management at a mid-priced chain.”
They pulled onto a wide stone and slate drive. A sprawling, stone and stucco house created an “L”, with a four car garage perpendicular to the street. One bay of the garage was open. Harry put the car in park, in front of the open door, behind a sleek silver Audi S5.
Claire continued in a low whisper, “Then how did he end up with this house with that car?”
“That’s what we’re here to find out.” Harry’s light blue eye disappeared momentarily as he winked in Claire’s direction. “I’m thinking it has to do with that mysterious settlement. Let’s give my theory a run?”
She smiled, “Okay, but if I forget my name is Rawls, elbow me in the side.”
“If you say so,” Harry teased as they both stepped from the Mustang and moved toward the front door.
Before Harry and Claire could reach the stoop of 100023 Fairway Drive, the wide front door opened. A balding gentleman wearing a black Burberry Brit Zip Hoodie, gray t-shirt, and sweat shorts, stepped outside. If he’d been wearing running shoes instead of flip-flops, he might look as if he was about to jog around the neighborhood. Harry and Claire stopped. The man hastily closed the large front door and rushed toward them.
As the distance narrowed between them, Harry spoke, “Mr. Chester?”
Glancing right and then left, the man answered, “Yes, yes. You must be Mr. Baldwin and Miss Rawls?”
Claire extended her hand, “My name is now Nichols.”
Patrick Chester took her hand and assessed the woman before him. “So are you Anton’s daughter or his cousin?”
Claire’s back straightened. She saw the smile sneak from the corner of Harry’s lips. Yes, she could chronologically be Tony’s daughter, but no one had ever said that to her before. While she fought with her answer, Harry spoke, “Mr. Patrick, Ms. Nichols has been given the responsibility of overseeing certain funds. She’s here today to confirm the need to maintain one of those funds.”
Patrick glanced back toward his house. “Let’s go around to the pool, my family’s in the house. They don’t know anything about my settlement. I’d like to keep it that way.”
Harry replied, “Of course. We’ll follow you.”
He briefly reached for Claire’s hand and squeezed. She chose not to reciprocate, deciding instead to press her lips together and exhale. If he’d known her better, he would’ve understood the displeasure screaming from her eyes. Instead he goaded, “How’s Daddy?”
She leaned closer, “So far, I’m not enlightened!”
They followed Patrick Chester through a large wooden gate situated within the tall stone wall. Entering the rear yard, Claire’s step stuttered at the majesty. A kidney shaped swimming pool surrounded by lavish furniture served as the feature of the lower level. It was a three tiered yard. A few steps up, the next level contained an outdoor living room, complete with fireplace, sofa, chairs, and encased technology center. Currently country music lofted from the speakers. Claire looked even higher and saw an orange grove on the upper level.
“Your yard is beautiful Mr. Chester.” Claire said as she sat at an umbrella covered table near the shallow end of the pool.
“Thank you, Ms. Nichols. I don’t mean to be impolite, but let’s get this over with. This is very unusual and quite frankly, makes me uncomfortable.”
Claire went on, “I was in the area and decided today would be as good as any. Thank you for seeing us.”
Patrick nodded.
Harry went on, “We’re here to confirm you’re the true recipient of the ongoing settlement.”
“Is this some kind of joke? I’ve kept my end of this bargain.” He turned toward Claire, “Your family better keep theirs.”
Without missing a beat, she replied, “Let’s not get hasty. We just have a few questions.” She looked toward Harry.
Harry asked, “Are you certain your original testimony involving the presence of Samuel’s sister has been contained.”
Patrick looked skeptically toward them, and finally answered, “I think I need to see some identification. How do I know you’re who you say you are?”
Claire reached for her purse and grabbed her wallet. Before she could open it, Harry took it from her hand and spoke, “Mr. Chester, how do we know you deserve to see identification?”
“You contacted me.”
“True, but give me something. How do I know you’re the Patrick Chester who Ms. Nichols needs to contact?”
“What do you want?”
“Tell us exactly why you deserve your annual settlement.”
With sarcasm dripping from his voice, Patrick answered, “I don’t remember.”
Harry pushed, “What don’t you remember?”
“You see, that’s the problem. If I remember -- your mom,” he looked toward Claire, “or your aunt -- well, there’s no statute of limitations on murder in California.”
Claire remained silent while Harry opened her wallet and handed Patrick her American Express credit card with Claire R. Nichols embossed on the front. Patrick took the card, read it, and handed it back to Harry. Claire watched as each man’s eyes glared back and forth.
She reached for her credit card placed it back in her wallet. Breaking the silence Claire said, “Thank you, Mr. Chester, I’ll relay your information, but I can’t make you any promises regarding future installments.”