Convicted
Page 166

 Aleatha Romig

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Within the warmth of the kitchen, Claire removed Nichol from her seat while Phil casually asked where he could retire. Claire’s pulse quickened when Brent said, “Mr. Roach, let me show you to your room. Tony, would you like to join us for a minute?”
Although Tony showed no outward signs of concern, Claire knew from his earlier comment there may be need. As the three men disappeared, she wondered what they needed to discuss. If it was about Emily or Tony, then Claire wanted to know. Courtney’s voice brought Claire back to present. “We had no idea you named her after me.” Her blue eyes glistened as she asked, “May I hold her?”
“Her name’s a long story, but Courtney was a name we both agreed upon. You’ve always been so good to both of us. Of course you can hold her; let me change her first.”
Courtney couldn’t pry her eyes away from Nichol. “I don’t mind. Oh my, Claire, look at those eyes.”
Placing her daughter in her best friend’s arms, Claire replied, “Aren’t they beautiful? Just like her daddy’s.”
Claire followed Courtney through the house to one of their guest rooms. The men were nowhere in sight. Hearing Courtney talk on and on loosened the tight muscles in Claire’s shoulders and relieved the pain behind her temples.
“I’m so glad Mr. Roach contacted Brent,” Courtney said.
“Cort, you do realize this is illegal, right?”
“Honey, I’d break any law to have you here, safe and sound.”
Claire added, “And Tony?”
Courtney nodded before she closed the bedroom door, and asked in a hushed tone, “We don’t have a lot of time before the men get back. You promised you’d be honest with me.”
“I know”—Claire looked down—“I’m sorry about the way I left. Do you know about Catherine?”
“Yes, Mr. Roach filled Brent in on everything. We understand what you did and why you did it. Who would’ve ever imagined, sweet Catherine? We’ve been careful to never let on to anyone what we know. Mr. Roach said the FBI’s still working to put it all together.”
Claire listened as she changed Nichol and settled into a plush chair to feed her.
“I’m sorry,” Courtney said. “Do you want me to leave?”
“I don’t think I’d invite Brent in”—Claire joked—“but I’m fine with you.”
Glancing toward the door, Courtney lowered her tone. “I want you to know, we really are glad you’re here and safe. I don’t want to upset you, but I have to know.”
Claire braced herself for something. She didn’t know what; perhaps it was about what Tony had said. “What do you need to know?”
“Are you sorry?”
“Am I sorry? That I left without telling anyone?”
Courtney leaned forward. “No, are you sorry you allowed Tony back in your life? Is it truly different? You know, than the first time...”
The trip had been exhausting, yet Courtney’s directness continued Claire’s relaxation. It felt so good to be talking openly with her friend. There’d been too many secrets—she longed for truth. Claire settled against the soft cushions as Nichol, hidden discretely behind a blanket, suckled her breast. Smiling, she answered, “I don’t know what I was afraid you were going to ask, but that wasn’t it. Without a doubt, it’s different! He’s changed. I know some people say that people don’t change—but they do. I have too. The life we shared in our first marriage and before is a distant memory. For Nichol’s sake, I wish it could remain hidden. She doesn’t need to know any of that. Her father is a good man.”
Courtney replied, “But some new things have come up—things from that box you told me about—allegations and suggestions of other things Tony may have done—or at least, he may have been involved with.”
“I promise—I know everything. I’m not saying he was always a good man or a good husband. I’m saying he is now, and when we were here in Iowa, before I left, he was also. Courtney, he knows what he’s done, and he’s sorry.”
Courtney knelt beside Claire. “I believe you. I can see it in your eyes.” She reached out and held Claire’s hand. “I hope this can all be worked out. You’ve been through enough.”
“I’m sorry that I’ve dragged you along.”
“Oh goodness, don’t be sorry.”
Claire sighed. “As always, you’re there for me. Hopefully, someday I can repay the favor. I know it’s late; do you want to go to bed? We can talk in the morning.”