Claire asked, “So what message do you want me to give that good kid?”

Patrick stood and the others followed. “Tell him to contact me only through the suits in L.A.. I don’t want any more surprise visits.”

Claire nodded and Harry extended his hand as he spoke, “Good bye, Mr. Chester. I believe Ms. Nichols has enough information.”

Going the direction they came, Claire and Harry silently made their way back to the blue Mustang. It wasn’t until they were outside the iron gated community that Claire finally spoke. “Why did you show him a credit card?”

“I didn’t want him to know your address.”

His words added to the unease she’d been feeling at the end of their interview. “Oh, thanks, I didn’t think of that.”

Making their way back to I-5 North, they settled in for the almost six hour drive. Claire inclined her seat, listened to the music from the speakers, and absorbed the sun’s rays.

Her mind wandered from Patrick Chester to Tony. Claire still didn’t know who this mystery woman was, but now they’d confirmed she exists, or existed. Who would Tony be willing to protect with annual payments? He never mentioned another woman. Actually he said he never wanted to be with anyone else. But could she believe anything he ever said? Maybe the woman really was his aunt. However she never heard of any family members. Even the Vanity Fair article said he had no other relatives. Could that woman be the one who sent Claire the box? Why would she willingly upset the man who’d financed her freedom from prison for murder? Or did she or someone else have another motive for sending Claire that information? Maybe the person wanted the box to affect Claire differently? It seemed the new information did nothing but create more questions.

Claire closed her eyes under the sunglasses and fought the ache threatening her temples.

As she was about to drift away when she heard Harry say, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have exposed you to that creep.”

She shrugged, “I’ve met a creep or two before. No harm no foul. I’m just not sure what we gained.”

“We now know for sure there was a woman. Someone Patrick believes is Samuel’s sister. I’d put money on the fact, she killed Samuel and Amanda.”

Claire added, “And Tony is willing to pay yearly to keep that knowledge hidden.”

“Who’s the woman?”

“That seems to be the million dollar question!” She said as she watched the beautiful scenery.

Compromise - better bend than break.

― Scottish Proverb

Chapter 29

Leaning against the countertop in the kitchen of their new condominium, Sophia traced the edge of the cool granite, as her mind wheeled in disbelief. She tried desperately to make sense of the voicemail she heard for the second time. Mr. George, from the Civic Center Art Studio in Palo Alto, received a call from a buyer, representing an anonymous customer. This mysterious person wanted to purchase three of Sophia’s pieces, the entire collection Mr. George commissioned from her Provincetown studio. During their earlier discussions, she agreed to three of her older works, after painstakingly debating the pieces on her website. The paintings were still in Massachusetts and had only been on Mr. George’s website for twenty-four hours. Now they were sold.

Mr. George wanted Sophia’s entire portfolio, yesterday. Apparently the buyer was enthralled. Yes, Sophia couldn’t believe it. That was the word Mr. George used – enthralled with her art. The mysterious buyer may even be interested in additional works. Mr. George wanted to know how soon Sophia could fly to Provincetown and ship her entire studio to Palo Alto. He promised to make it worth the expense.

Although Sophia and Derek had recently reached an understanding, well, more than an understanding -- a coming together of monumental proportions. She wasn’t picking up and flying east without discussing it with him. Looking at her calendar she realized the only conflict, if she suddenly flew to P-town, would be some fundraiser dinner they were supposed to attend. Some top executive wanted Derek to attend this dinner as a representative of Shedis-tics. Apparently, this was an annual big deal.

Sophia wondered if she could possibly do both. Considering the probability, she realized she would either need to tell Mr. George to wait, or tell Derek she couldn’t do the dinner. The timing was just too unfortunate for both. Packing the art work would take days, possibly a week. The event was in five days. This was one of those compromises they’d discussed. The concept was much easier in the figurative sense.

Like a child, she crossed her fingers, unconsciously bit her lower lip, and dialed the phone.

Danni’s voice on Derek’s private line no longer surprised Sophia. Sophia even shamefully felt a twinge of superiority with Derek’s recent confession. He swore total ignorance regarding Danni’s hidden agenda. Perhaps part of Sophia even felt a bit sorry for the pretty young blonde. No, given the circumstances, she didn’t.

“Hello, Danni, it’s Sophia.”

“Yes, Mrs. Burke, Derek is in a meeting right now. May I take a message?”

Sophia noticed, despite many attempts to change Danni’s salutation, she was still addressed as Mrs. Burke and Mr. Burke was still Derek. “Yes, please let him know I need to speak to him as soon as possible. As a matter of fact, I’ll be going out later and can come by his office this afternoon.”

“Yes, well, his schedule is quite full. Perhaps, I can have him call when he’s available.”

A week ago that would have stopped Sophia, but not today. As soon as she hung up with Danni, Sophia would text Derek’s cellphone. When Sophia explained her insecurities during their reconnection, Derek promised only he would answer his text messages.




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