EVIDENCE OF DECEIT
Chapter 1
Claire Willis leaned her head against the chilly bus window and watched the countryside whiz by. The bus was half full and the chatter of people just background noise. The stale air in the bus irritated her nose, but she could put up with a few inconveniences to be free. Although it had only been four hours, she still wasn’t sure what free felt like.
The route she’d taken as a precaution included an overnight layover in Washington, D.C. It was necessary. Soon her husband, Keith, would come home expecting dinner, and was he going to be surprised. And angry. Then he would be furiously looking for her. He would be checking planes and trains for her name. However, her friend Sheri had made bus reservations in her name for Claire. He would never guess she was traveling under another name or that she was going to her cousin Mark’s house in Black Pointe, Florida. She knew he would be planning her punishment for running, and this time he wouldn’t be holding back.
The bus hissed as it slowed down and pulled into a bay. It took a while for everyone to collect their things and move out. Claire stretched as she got up from the seat and then walked down the bus stairs into the terminal. This was it. The next step toward freedom. Her heart was pounding and sweat poured down her back. Her feet slid along the cement floor. It had rained a little just before they arrived so she needed to be careful. No sense slipping or falling and ending up with broken bones or worse. There was no insurance or extra money for accidents. With trains and buses arriving, many people walked around with suitcases, kids in hand, laughing and talking. Nobody took notice of her, thank God.
She inhaled a deep breath and exhaled. Her feet were dragging, and she was hungry. Finding an empty bench, she sat down, closed her eyes, and rolled her neck. The tension had given her a headache but she had nothing for it. It would be a long night. She needed a plan. She needed to count her small pile of money, and she also needed to eat.
Different scenarios passed through her mind. None of them great. However, sitting here was not an option so Plan B would have to work. She opened her eyes. Okay then, plan made. She would find the ladies’ room and count her money in a stall. Water was free, but she needed some protein for energy. A cheap hamburger would satisfy that need and maybe something sweet for the morning. She could walk around the terminal for a while. then find a bench for the night.
“Watch it!”
Darn, she almost walked into a man and woman. Apologizing, she turned left and found the ladies’ room and headed for it, counted her money and went on the hunt for food.
She stared at the small pile of change in her hand that the employee had given her. She expected the hamburger to be cheap because it came from a fast-food restaurant, but it was still a lot more than she wanted to pay, and yet it was the least expensive thing on the menu.
Thanking the cashier, she found a bench and inhaled the meaty smell. Her stomach growled in protest. No more smelling. Time to eat. She ate the burger as slowly as possible, sipping water in between bites. How long had it been since she had a burger, let alone been to a fast-food place? Keith thought both were beneath him.
The loudspeakers kept a steady stream of information surrounding her. She had a twelve-hour layover here, then it was another twenty-hour bus ride to Florida. She took her crossword puzzle out of her purse. Crossword puzzles were the one form of entertainment she could afford and was very good at. She stared at the puzzle. The words began to swirl, and she couldn’t focus. She needed to sleep, but it was still early. Maybe she’d walk around a little more. Most stores were closing, but she found a couple still open to window-shop in. An hour passed, and Claire was tired. She found a bench, brought her suitcase up next to her. She’d spend the night on a hard, wooden bench in D.C., keeping guard over her small suitcase.
Her life had taken so many turns, it was hard for her to keep up with them. As she closed her eyes, the last thought she had was that she was running from a man who had broken her body to a city where a man had broken her heart. Joe Harkin. She wondered what happened to him. Had he found what he was looking for? Even thinking his name made her heart sing, although he had left her without saying goodbye.. The betrayal still stung, but she had, no, still loved him. Too bad that bus had left. She giggled at the pun.
***
Keith Willis got in the elevator that would take him to his penthouse apartment. It had been a hard day, and he was looking forward to relaxing and enjoying his favorite meal. Claire had promised that she would make baked stuffed pork chops for dinner.
She’d called him earlier at work to tell him she needed to go out to get a forgotten ingredient. He reminded her to charge what she needed to his account. An hour later, she called to tell him she was home—perfect Claire. Her running away three months ago was already forgiven. Not forgotten—just forgiven. He never forgot. He’d bought her a single diamond necklace as a peace offering. After all, he had been a little rough with her that night. Well, maybe a lot rough, but she deserved it. She forgave him—she always did. And the sex after that day was fantastic.
Sex. His cock got hard thinking about fucking Claire while the chops cooked. A little of this, a lot of that, and he would be satisfied. Perhaps have her go down on him, suck him off. He loved it when she crawled to him, begging to suck him off, while he played with her gorgeous breasts. Or maybe he’d take her on the counter. Hmmm, they hadn’t done that in a while. It would have to be scrubbed later. He hated filth and disorder.
Beautiful Claire was always up for anything he wanted to do. Except anal sex. She didn’t like that. Although when he was in the mood, she let him have his way. Damn, now that he thought about it, he was in the mood. Couldn’t wait to get home. Two more floors and he would have her.
He reminded Claire earlier to put on the new see-through lace teddy and thong set he bought her. Her model figure looked fabulous in anything, but he liked teddies where her generous globes spilled out and screamed: “Suck me.” Damn. Would she remember to wear the black mile-high Louboutin’s he ordered to go with it? The heels made her long legs even longer, and he was looking forward to having them wrapped around his waist while he fucked her.
She was a wildcat in bed—he wouldn’t have it any other way. Screaming his name and fucking him every which way. In fact, he had demanded she get wild. No domesticated kitten in bed for him. He only insisted on that during the day.
His heart was racing now. His cock was hard and ready. He was so horny, he’d probably take her on the foyer floor.
Inserting his key into the lock, he opened the door and walked in. The condo was quiet—too quiet. The only noise he heard was the whirring of the air-conditioner. He glanced around. Yep, everything was in its place. Perfect. Just the way he liked it.
It had taken a while to get Claire to understand how he liked it—a couple of long days and nights when they were first married. Oh, the memories. Claire naked, crawling on her hands and knees. A bucket of water. A toothbrush. She managed to scrub all those corners to perfection.
But now, everything was perfect in their lives. Well, except for that day she tried to leave him. He’d warned her what would happen if she left. She didn’t believe him. Now she did.
He sniffed the air—no yummy smells coming from the kitchen. Come to think of it, Claire usually greeted him at the door with a drink and a smile. Where the hell was she?
Was he going to have to teach her some manners again? He hoped so. Helping her understand how to please him made him happy, as did the acknowledgment in her eyes that she knew he was in charge of her life. He had her submission.
He stomped into the kitchen, but he didn’t see any meal preparation. No food, no cutting boards, no knives. And no Claire.
He raced through the first floor—the library, the den, and the living room—no Claire.
Was she on the patio?
He opened the sliding glass doors to the huge terrace overlooking Central Park. The sounds of traffic and cars honking assaulted him, but the peaceful patio with its colorful flowers and leafy trees held no interest for him today. Only Claire. But she wasn’t there. Now he was worried. Had she had an accident? Anytime she left the condo, she was required to tell him where she was going and for how long. She hadn’t since her last call telling him that she was home.
He sprinted up the marble staircase to the second floor. Looked in every perfect guest bedroom—no Claire.
He went into the beige and turquoise master bedroom and looked around. Was anything missing or out of place? No. The king-size bed was perfectly made. He could bounce a coin on it. In fact, when they were first married, he had. Showed her exactly how he wanted it made.
He stomped into her closet. Everything was perfectly lined up by season and color. Nothing was missing that he could tell. He had bought all her designer clothes and knew each piece. He went into her bathroom. The scent of the French perfume he bought her permeated the air. He checked her toiletries—nope, nothing there out of place.
Where the hell was she?
Should he check the safe? Nah, he was the only one with the code.
Goddamn bitch. He went into his office, pulled up her account. There was only one charge for the ingredient she claimed she needed.
Her phone! He pulled up the phone records. They showed she’d only called him. He found the “find my phone” app. Hopefully, it would pinpoint her position. It pinged. Damn. Her phone was in the apartment.
He shook his head. Fury built a fire in his gut. This wasn’t a mistake on her part. The damn woman had run away again. She left him. Deserted him. Her transgression was going to make him look like a fool. People would be laughing.
Not on your life, Claire. Not on your life.