Page 4 of Evidence of Deceit

Claire tucked the crossword puzzle into her purse and stumbled down the three metal stairs on the bus and into the bus terminal. Twenty-five hours plus—sitting in a narrow seat that rubbed and irritated the scars on her back, inhaling stale air, existing on snacks from a machine, listening to the screaming baby next to her, refilling her water bottle at a fountain, and staying awake and on guard—had taken their toll. It had been hours since she ate the last of her snacks. She was tired and had a headache that wouldn’t quit.

The final insult was being hit in the face with the dense humidity and heat of Florida. Well, not the final. She still needed to use the restroom and count her dwindling supply of money.

Did she have enough to get to Mark’s house? Or would she have to walk? She thought his house was about five miles from the bus station. A doable walk on a normal day, but she was weak from hunger. Thankfully, she only had a small carry-on bag with wheels. But she stank. Her clothes were wrinkled, and she hadn’t changed them in three days. The littlesuitcase only contained three outfits from a thrift shop and some underwear. It was all she could afford without using her credit cards. It was definitely a far cry from living in New York City in the penthouse with Keith and wearing designer clothes. At least here, no one would hurt her—she hoped.

She wondered when Keith would realize she was missing. For sure, he came home that night anticipating stuffed pork chops for dinner and was disappointed in more ways than one.

What would he do? She had no friends. He’d alienated her parents and sister. She knew they hated him and wouldn’t help him. Plus, she’d barely spoken to them in months to protect them. They knew nothing of her plans, and she would never put them in danger. Soon, though, she would have to call just so they wouldn’t worry, but she wouldn’t, couldn’t, tell them about the abuse. Her father would go ballistic on Keith, and Keith would destroy him. She was sure when Keith realized she was gone that he would pull some hurtful stunt.

Her friend Sheri had given her so much help and a little money to start her new life. She didn’t know where Claire was going in Florida so she wouldn’t be of help to him. Would Keith even suspect Sheri had helped? Claire had never mentioned Sheri’s name to him, but that didn’t matter. He had ways of finding out information. She fingered the burner phone in her pocket, her lifeline to reality. Later, when she was settled, she would call Sheri and let her know she was okay.

Coffee! The smell of coffee sitting too long in a pot both disgusted and excited her. She was desperate for a cup and perhaps a muffin. Claire sat down at a scarred table in the terminal and counted her money. No muffin today. She had enough for a coffee and a taxi with a small tip left over forthe driver. Maybe.

A happy family of six—looked like a grandmother, daughter, and four little kids—were noisily eating at the next table. Claire took a moment to wallow in jealousy at the happy group, then shook her head. What was that saying? “Today is the first day of the rest of your life,” and darn if she wasn’t about to seize it. After being under Keith’s thumb for four years, she relished her newfound freedom, even if it had only been a couple of days and she was sitting in a bus station that reeked of grease and sweat.

She watched the family as they got up to leave, laughing as they cleared the table. An open package of cupcakes slipped off the table and onto the floor. She salivated. She prayed they wouldn’t notice it. In the noisy exit, the cupcakes were forgotten. She laughed to herself. Quite a contrast from the highfalutin 21 Club or the Four Seasons and all the other famous restaurants in New York City she had eaten at with Keith.

Claire glanced around. No one else noticed the package on the floor. Good. She gathered her things, moved over to the recently vacated table, and sat down. She casually looked around the room. Everyone was minding their own business. She dropped a napkin on the floor, leaned over, and with the napkin plucked up the cupcake package.

Score! Chocolate. Not her favorite, but at the moment, it didn’t matter. One was already half-eaten. It didn’t matter. One and a half cupcakes would hold her over. She slipped the package into her purse.

She finished her coffee, gathered her purse and suitcase, sauntered back out into the heat and humidity and hailed a taxi.

In the half-hour drive to Mark’s house, she inhaled the cupcakes and rested her head against the window. She wasn’t safe yet.

She prayed Mark would be home. The bus got in laterthan she had anticipated, and she didn’t want to call him from another unlisted number—too many questions.

Three days ago, she called him from Sheri’s phone, exaggerating the excitement in her voice when she told him Keith was away on business and she would be visiting relatives in Florida.

Would he be home? Yes.

Could she stay with him? Yes.

It was a small respite, but it would give her enough time to plan where to go and maybe what to do with her life. And she knew Mark would protect her.

“Miss?”

She was gently shaken. “Miss. We’re here.”

Claire jolted awake. Whoa. A man’s voice. Was it Keith?

She looked around. Where was she? She shook the cobwebs from her head.

Oh, right, she was at Mark’s house. Must have fallen asleep. She needed to be more careful. Falling asleep could get her killed.

She paid the driver, gave him a small tip, gathered her purse and suitcase and trudged up to Mark’s front door and rang the doorbell.

Mark opened it after the first ring. He was bathed in backlight and looked healthy and happy. It had a while since she had seen him. They had been close as kids. He had come to her wedding, but she hadn’t seen him since then. Keith didn’t like Mark the minute they were introduced. Of course, Keith didn’t like any of her family or friends, although he faked interest in them when they first met. If only she had paid attention to that factoid then. Oh well.

He looked her over and frowned. She knew what he saw. A tired, bedraggled woman on her last legs.

“Claire, come in. I’m so glad to see you.” He gave her a big hug, almost squishing her ribs. “The trip was okay?”

“The trip was fine, just tiring.”

“Let me take your bag and put it in your room.”

Mark picked up her suitcase. If he thought it was a little light, he didn’t say anything and brought it down the hall.

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