Page 12 of Evidence of Deceit

Sam hurried her into the kitchen. Claire could hear Mark open the door and greet Keith. Keith’s voice, the voice he used with clients, the calm voice, scared her more than yelling. She knew he came to bring her back to New York City.

Would Mark tell on her? A small moan escaped from her lips, and Sam pushed her into a chair, held a finger to her lips. A gun materialized from somewhere. Sam held it by her side.Oh, sweet Jesus. Was Sam going to shoot him? Did she care?

She could hear Mark talking to Keith and inviting him in.NO. Please don’t invite him in.Her heart was thumping so hard, Keith could surely hear it. She got up to rush out the back door, but Sam put her hand on her shoulder and shook her head. Claire’s breath came out unevenly. She felt like she was going to pass out. She concentrated on the strength in Sam’s hand on her shoulder and felt safe for a minute.

The men’s voices echoed in the small room.

“Keith, nice surprise. What brings you here?”

“I’m looking for Claire.”

“Claire? Damn. What do you mean?”

“I hate to be the bearer of sad news. Claire had a mental breakdown and has disappeared. She was in the hospital for a week in a locked ward, but they released her, said she was okay. But she isn’t and ran away. I was hoping she came here. She didn’t take her meds with her and might be suicidal.”

“Oh. Poor Claire. This isn’t good news. You must be frantic.” Mark and Keith talked a little more. Then they could hear Mark pick up his keys. “Listen, I have an appointment I can’t miss. Can you tell me about Claire on the way to my truck and how I can help?”

They heard the house door slam, and Claire started dropping toward the floor. Sam caught her and sat her up.

“Claire, judging by the fear on your face, I take it you are not suicidal and you definitely don’t want to go home with Keith,” Sam said in a soothing voice.

Claire could only nod. The situation was so embarrassing. She had hoped to move on before Keith found her. She was too late. Again.

Sam patted her leg and said, “We need to talk. Let’s wait until Mark gets back so you don’t have to repeat yourself.” She pulled out the coffeepot and some mugs to make coffee.

About ten minutes later, they heard the door open and the alarm being set just as Sam was handing her a cup.

“Sam? Claire?”

“In here,” said Sam.

Mark walked into the kitchen. Walked over to Claire and knelt in front of her. He looked at her thoughtfully and spoke in a quiet voice. “Hon, I don’t know what is going on, but you’re safe here with us. Do you understand?” He waited until she nodded and went to sit in a chair. “Can you tell us what’s happening? Why Keith is looking for you?”

Sam brought two more cups of coffee over andsat down.

They looked at her expectantly. Neither said a word. Just waited.

Could she do this? Confess that she was a battered wife? Confess that she let it happen? What did that say about her? Would they believe her? Would they kick her out? Think less of her?

Didn’t matter. Sam and Mark were already involved. They needed to know why—and what would happen to their careers if Keith knew they were harboring her. He would ruin them just like Theresa and John. But she couldn’t confess all that had happened to her. It was too embarrassing. She would give them crumbs and hoped that would suffice. Inhaling deeply and letting her breath out slowly, Claire said, “Well, I guess I better explain.”

Sam and Mark waited. They didn’t interrupt. It was her story—she appreciated that she could tell it her way.

“First, I’m so sorry you are involved in my drama. You need to know that I’m not suicidal. I’m not on any meds.”

Sam reached for her hand. “We gathered that.”

Claire was grateful for the touch, but the next part was going to be painful to talk about. She couldn’t face them and looked at the floor. “Keith has been abusing me.”

When she looked up, Mark’s face was red. “Goddamn son of a bitch. I knew I should have pummeled the asshole.”

Sam patted his arm and looked at Claire. “Can you be more specific? And no, I’m not trying to embarrass you. I need to know so we can help.”

“He would beat me for no reason. I could only work at the museum’s gift shop because he wanted to know where I was every minute. I had to account for every penny I spent.” Her voice broke, and tears dripped down her face. She couldn’t bring herself to tell them about the belt-whipping or her scars. She felt humiliated enough. Telling them that would be the icing on the cake.

“Claire,” said Sam. “Look at me.”

Claire looked at Sam. Her lips were pursed. Her eyes were flashing anger, and her nostrils flared. “I want to find that bastard and beat the shit out of him so he understands what hurt feels like. But that won’t help. We need to have you feel safe. However, I am curious as to why you didn’t tell someone about the abuse or try to leave Keith.”

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