Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
To Do:
- Breathe
- Pray
“Will the defendant please rise?” The judge slid her glasses up the bridge of her nose and glanced at a paper in front of her.
Chains clanked as Barney climbed to his feet. He swiveled his head in Claire’s direction. A cold, brutal smile cracked the unbothered marble of his face. There was no fear in his eyes.
Claire dragged her gaze from his and squared her shoulders. Her knees squeezed together like she was trying to hold a penny between them. Alice clutched her left hand. Luke held the other gently, running his thumb over her wrist in soothing circles in spite of the death glares he was shooting at Barney. Mindy had moved to sit behind her, and both of her hands were on Claire’s shoulders. She was home base in an awkward, stressful game of tag.
The courtroom was quieter than a public library ruled by an iron-fisted librarian. Nicole unrolled a ginger lozenge and tossed it into her mouth, and the crinkle of the wrapper was near deafening.
This was it. The moment everything had been leading up to since Barney stabbed her in that parking garage. Was he about to pay for the hell he had inflicted on her? Or, like so many rich white men before him, was he about to get off with a slap on the wrist? She had all but bled on that stand. She had done everything she could. Was it going to make a difference?
Claire stared unblinkingly at the judge. Her expression was as unreadable as a blank legal pad. Seconds crept by. Was there a mandatory class in law school on how to create dramatic suspense?
The judge set her papers down and folded her hands. She stared at Barney. “Mr. Windsor, in all of my years serving this community as a judge, I’ve encountered a lot of criminals. I’ve seen things that would churn the stomachs of most people in this courtroom. I’ve heard accounts that would give almost anyone nightmares. But not, I suspect, you. Your cruelty and your cold, calculating nature are evident even though you didn’t testify. I get chills when you walk into my courtroom.”
Claire’s mouth fell open. Mindy squeezed her shoulders. Could this be the wheels of justice grinding away?
“What you did to Miss Hartley is inexcusable. There was no emotional component to your crime, despite what your lawyer argued. What you did was what a hunter does to its prey. You stalked and tried to kill your victim. One failed date in college does not give you permission to take that woman’s life. You’re a dangerous man, Mr. Windsor. And because of that, I have no choice but to sentence you to ten years in prison with credit for one year of time served. I expect I’ll see you again someday.”
The judge banged her gavel and stood. The courtroom erupted in chatter.
Shockwaves coursed through Claire’s body. Had she really heard the judge correctly? Mindy climbed over the back of the bench in her pencil skirt and stilettos and threw herself on Claire. Alice began sobbing. Tanya rushed from the back of the courtroom with a joyful shout. Jack offered a solemn nod with the ghost of a smile. Throughout the fray, Luke’s hand stayed warm and secure around hers.
It had really happened. Against all odds, Barney was about to pay for his crimes. Although it was still bullshit that he was only getting ten years for almost killing her, he would be rotting in a prison cell. And now the FBI had time to build a case against him. Justice may yet be served for the other victims. Money could buy a lot of things, but for today at least, freedom wasn’t one of them.
Barney’s mother tearfully gripped a used tissue. She reached for Barney as he was led away, but he only had eyes for Claire. His steely gray eyes burned into hers. She raised a single eyebrow as he disappeared through the door. Stupid murderous asshole. Good riddance.
A breath she had been holding for what felt like a year whooshed out. “So, what should we do with the rest of our day?” she whispered to Luke over a mouthful of her mother’s hair. The front of her blouse was damp from everyone crying on her.
“Drink?” he suggested. But then he glanced at his phone and furrowed his brow.
Before she had a chance to ask what was wrong, everyone was pulling her toward the front door. It was just as well. Even after the sentencing was read, the sensation of the yellowed walls closing in hadn’t left her. Shit. The press was presumably still outside. She wound the high contrast scarf around her neck and drew her shoulders back like she was about to dropkick her way out of here.
When Luke and Kyle pushed open the double doors, the sun shone through the clouds like spotlights. Warmth rushed into her cheeks. The rain had stopped, and a brilliant rainbow hovered over the dry cleaning shop across the street. If that wasn’t a good sign, she didn’t know what was.
Several steps down, a crowd of reporters surrounded Barney’s lawyer. Her fingers curled into fists. Kyle had recommended she make a statement if she felt up to it, but the thought of speaking to the people who had hounded her for months made her skin crawl.
“Miss Hartley!” One shout was all it took for the press to abandon Barney’s lawyer. They scrambled over each other like children on a jungle gym. Microphones hovered in front of her face as they jostled for positions.
“Miss Hartley, how do you feel about the verdict?” a man with a handlebar mustache asked.
A woman in a lime-green power suit elbowed her way in front of Claire. “Do you think the punishment fit the offense?”
Claire paused, and the caravan of people behind her bumped into each other as they lurched to a stop. If a few words now could stop the press from accosting her as she fetched the mail while wearing corgi pajama pants, it would be worth it.
She took a deep breath and looked into one of the cameras. “I’m relieved that justice was served today. It’s the first step in gaining justice for the rest of Mr. Windsor’s victims.”
She turned on her heel and strode into the crowd without another word. Her heart was lighter than it had been in months, maybe even a year. She could have skipped all the way back to the car even with the handful of reporters shouting after her. The door handle was cool in her hand as she yanked on it.
Locked. All that worrying in the middle of her statement for nothing.
Luke unlocked the door and swung it open. She climbed inside and happily buckled herself in. A couple of members of the press stalked around the car trying to take her picture, but the horde had thinned. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Maybe things would finally go back to normal. Maybe the next time someone Googled her name, the autocomplete suggestion would be “Claire Hartley Happily Ever Afters” instead of “Claire Hartley Widowmaker.”
The mental and physical scars Barney had inflicted would last a lifetime. But for the first time in months, their sting wasn’t so sharp.
Alice slid into the back seat behind her, already jabbering about a family vacation they should take to celebrate the verdict.
Claire’s eyes snapped open. “Mom, the last time we went to the beach you were arrested for performing a moon ritual.”
Alice scoffed. “It was my own fault. I shouldn’t have expected the Rehoboth Beach Police Department to understand the nuances of charging crystals. Maybe a mountain retreat instead. As long as there’s running water nearby.”
Luke paused in front of the car, frowning at something on his phone. Rachel was nowhere to be found. Perhaps that was the source of his frownyness. He slid into the driver’s seat and fired up the engine.
“Home?” he asked.
Claire nodded. “Your mom’s not joining us?”
Luke shook his head. So much for the maybe-future in-laws getting along. But there had never been much hope for that anyway.
“What’s wrong?” Claire whispered over her mother, who had switched to expounding on the benefits of fresh maritime pine bark.
“It’s probably nothing. I just need to check something out at the house.”
His voice was calm, but Claire’s stomach clenched. Happiness faded like a dying sunset. What was happening at the house? Was her pepper spray still in date? Should she grab the bat from the trunk?
Alice had apparently shifted her focus from the mountains to the Mediterranean.
“Ooh, this Airbnb has four bedrooms and a private infinity pool overlooking the sea.” She shoved her phone into the front seat to show Claire.
“That’s great, Mom. Do you really think the show will let you take off long enough to go to Greece?” There was no way this trip was happening. Alice was full of big ideas and very little follow-through.
“I’m the boss, darling. They’ll do what I say. Did you catch the show last week?”
Claire didn’t always watch her mother’s TV show when it came on, but she usually tried to let it play while she cleaned the house. “I did. I got chills when you channeled that turkey farmer’s mother.”
“Poor dear. She just wanted to see her son happy.”
“Do you think he’ll reach out to Annabelle?”
“If he doesn’t, Norma threatened to keep opening all the cabinets in his kitchen and slamming his doors. I told her there were more constructive ways to spend her energy, but she’s a stubborn one.”
“Pity,” Claire said.
Luke sighed, making her smile. He didn’t believe in much of anything her mother said and preferred to attribute all of her premonitions to a combination of coincidence and her ability to read people. He had been unimpressed by her interpretation of his tarot cards at Thanksgiving.
“Hey,” Claire whispered to him while Alice babbled to herself about the Smoky Mountains in the backseat. “Did that name from earlier mean something to you? Skip?”
His mouth hardened into a firm line. “Yeah.”
She waited, staring at his grumpy profile.
“Honesty,” she prompted after thirty seconds of silence. Well, silence minus Alice expounding on Appalachian granny magic.
“He worked for a rival law firm. My mom went up against him a couple of times. She said they were colleagues.”
Claire nodded. Colleagues who banged, apparently. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. She and my dad weren’t good together.”
“Sometimes love isn’t enough.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. It was too bad the Happily Ever Afters compatibility checklist didn’t exist when Rachel and George Sr. had found each other. But at least their disastrous union had produced her favorite person.
“I wish I could have met your dad,” she added.
“Me too.” He returned her squeeze, and silence descended again.
The clouds parted, and the sun gained strength as they drove through the city. Luke skillfully avoided a series of large potholes on Market Street. They turned onto Beaumont Street and passed a large brick building. She turned, straining against the seatbelt as her former apartment building flew past them and out of sight. Some of the best—and strangest—years of her life had been spent there. And some of the worst. Now that Claire had moved in with Luke in the country, the apartment belonged to Mindy. Every time she visited, Claire was annoyed that Mindy had moved the coffee maker.
The smell wafting from Big City Bean Co elicited a loud growl from her stomach. Their chocolate croissants were almost as good as the ones she and Luke had shared in Paris. Nothing compared to the wide-open spaces of the country, but the bustling metropolis of West Haven had been a special place to call home. From her old apartment, she could step out her door and walk to a dozen restaurants. She had even done it while sleepwalking. Now she had to go to the grocery store an upsetting number of times each week. Ugh.
“Still hungry for empanadas, sweetheart?” Alice finally paused her diatribe on family vacations as they passed Claire’s second favorite Mexican restaurant.
“They sound perfect. I wish Roy was here to make them, though.”
Alice sighed wistfully. “He’s stuck on a big job hooking up some HVAC for a new business. He said he’ll call you tonight.”
“Good.”
Her mother abruptly decided to meditate, and silence filled the car as they drove past the city limits and into the countryside.
Claire laid a hand on Luke’s thigh. He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that the leather audibly shifted under his palm. In her haste to figure out who Skip was, she had nearly forgotten that something was wrong at the house. Apparently he wasn’t in a sharing mood.
What could have possibly happened? Did a pipe burst? Did Rosie get into the Doritos again and spatter the kitchen with doggie napalm? Claire took a deep breath and settled back into her seat. She would know soon enough.
They made a pit stop at the grocery store a mile from Luke’s house when Alice suddenly remembered she had forgotten to instruct Claire to pick up green chiles. The defining characteristic of Alejo Empanadas was that the recipe was never written down. As a result, they were slightly different each time they were made. By the time Luke had pulled up to the garage, Mindy, Sawyer, Nicole, and Kyle were sitting on the front porch. They all looked pointedly at their watches as the car came to a stop. Luke grumbled.
The gang piled into the kitchen, dispersing to their usual spots. Sawyer’s gigantic feet dangled from a bar stool at the island. He pulled out a laptop and checked his work email. Mindy sat next to him, entering data into a spreadsheet. Nicole and Kyle cuddled in the breakfast nook, where he rubbed her shoulders as she ate a piece of dry toast.
A cursory review of the kitchen and living room didn’t reveal any chip-induced diarrhea or exploded pipes. Luke disappeared down the hallway, carefully avoiding eye contact. Something wasn’t right. What the hell was he hiding from her? She moved to follow him but was trapped by Rosie and Winston’s frantic embrace.
Alice picked Winston up and tucked him into the pocket of the apron she had just put on.
Luke stormed back up the hallway, hands balled into fists, paler than he had been a moment before. Claire’s heart leapt into her throat. He stooped down next to Kyle and whispered something to him. Kyle’s mouth fell open, and he immediately pulled out his phone.
Luke stomped up the steps as though each one of them had personally wronged him. What fresh hell was this? Claire flew up the stairs two at a time, hot on his heels. When she arrived in the bedroom, he had already pulled one of her overnight bags out and was tossing clothing into it.
“What are you doing? What’s wrong?” she asked.
“How many pairs of underwear do you need for a long weekend? Eight? Nine?” Piles of multicolor lace were wound between his calloused fingers.
A long weekend? This was hardly the time. There was cause to celebrate, sure, but her To Do list was practically endless.
“Well, it depends. Will I be peeing myself twice a day or only once?”
He grunted and shoved the whole lot in her bag. She touched his shoulder.
“Luke. You’re scaring me. I need you to tell me what’s going on.”
“You’re going away for the weekend.”
Her stomach twisted itself into knots, and she gripped his shoulder tighter. “You know I can’t do that. There’s too much at stake with Brad’s proposal. Every minute counts. And now I have the gala to plan, not to mention our next couples to pick. If we don’t get all twelve pictures taken and to the printer by Wednesday, we might as well kiss the calendar goodbye.”
“There are worse things.” He opened the drawer where she kept her jeans and threw three pairs in. It would take her ages to get the drawers organized again.
She groaned and threw her hands up. It was like talking to a brick wall. Maybe Kyle would explain.
She took the stairs two at a time. The kitchen was quiet. Everyone was gone. The back of her neck prickled. Where had they gone? And why the hell wouldn’t anyone tell her anything?
She walked down the hallway, past her office to the ballroom. The double doors creaked as she threw them open. Empty. Her shoes clacked across the marble floors as she approached the window.
She came to an abrupt halt. And gasped.
Her friends were crowded around the edge of Luke’s pool. This morning, the pool had still been covered. They hadn’t planned on opening it until May at least. Now, however, the cover had been dragged away and the entire pool was filled with bright red liquid. It couldn’t be blood. Could it?
Next to the pool, a message was scrawled on the concrete.
You’ll pay for this.
Her knees buckled. She staggered and banged off the floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the pool. Her friends jumped. Nicole and Mindy rushed inside and clutched at her.
“It’s okay. Everything is going to be fine,” Nicole said, stroking Claire’s hair.
“Who did this?” Claire croaked like she had smoked a pack a day for her entire life.
“You know who it was,” Mindy whispered. She grabbed Claire’s hand as if expecting her to disappear.