Murky Waters

CHAPTER TEN

For several months, Claire and Tristan were inseparable. Some nights they would spend at Claire’s apartment. Most of the time, however, was spent at Tristan’s house. Claire was relieved that she had not received any more of the mysterious packages. She had still not reported them to the police; she would put that off as long as she could. Since so much time had elapsed, she hoped that the unknown photographer had just given up.

Claire’s presence had improved the work environment at the office, and she took special care in mending the problems that Rhonda had created. She worked closely with Tristan and the crew coordinators, and their combined efforts sharply decreased travel costs. Cameron Hughes was very pleased, and this in turn made Tristan happy. Even Cameron noticed the harmonious relationship between travel and crew coordination. No one person was more affected than Tristan. Her stress level had dropped to a minimum, and the department flourished as a result.

In addition to affecting Tristan’s life at work, Claire had a profound effect on her personal life, as well. Tristan had found it easier to deal with her feelings of anxiety and fear in their relationship. She was letting go of the part of herself that no one had ever been able to tap into. She often wondered if Claire knew that she was holding her tender heart in her hands.

There was one last hurdle that Tristan had yet to cross, and that was her jealous feelings of Mike. Each smile that Claire gave him gnawed her to the bone. She felt as though Claire toyed with her when it came to the overbearing man by entertaining him with her cheerful and polite demeanor. Had Tristan been in her shoes, she would have been as cold as ice where he was concerned.

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One Friday afternoon as Tristan was walking Claire to her car, she noticed a brown envelope on Claire’s windshield. Claire stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the envelope with a look of pure dread.

“Claire, don’t you think we should discuss this now? This is the second time you’ve found something on your car, and judging by your reaction, it can’t be good.”

Claire looked at Tristan dumbfounded. “Yes, I think we should.”

Her hands shook as she reached up to retrieve the package.

“Tristan, do you mind if we park my Jeep in the back and I ride home with you?”

Tristan readily agreed, seeing the expression on Claire’s face.

“Let’s go to my house tonight. I’ll cook you dinner, serve you wine in a hot bath, and when you are relaxed, we’ll talk about this,” she said, indicating the envelope.

The ride home was quiet. Claire didn’t say a word. Tristan figured she was not up to talking, so they drove in silence. She watched as Claire smoked one cigarette after another.

After dinner, Tristan filled the large garden tub in the master bath with hot water. She dropped in some bath salts to make it even more relaxing, lit a few candles, and dimmed the lights. She left a bottle of red wine and two glasses on the ledge of the tub and went to find Claire.

Tristan found her sitting on the couch in the sunroom, still clutching the unopened envelope. Tristan sat next to her and pulled her close. “Claire, what inside that envelope has you so upset?” Claire stared at her absently for a moment and handed it to her.

Claire watched as Tristan pulled two photos out of the package.

There was no note this time. Claire shuddered; she knew that the pictures would be of the two of them. She was afraid of how her lover would respond. Now that they were in this together, the stakes had gotten even higher.

Claire wondered how Tristan would react to finding out what she had done her best to keep so well hidden. Would she be offended that it had taken her so long to confide in her? What would Tristan demand of her?

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Tristan glanced at Claire and studied the photographs. Both were taken at the Mexican restaurant they went to on their first date.

They were taken at an odd angle as if the photographer had difficulty capturing them. Whoever took the pictures was very close by.

Confusion registered on her face as she looked over at Claire.

“What’s going on?”

Claire could not contain the tears that had threatened to fall.

“Tristan, I have no idea. I’ve been getting them for a while now, even when I was living in Houston. For the life of me, I cannot figure out why anyone would do this to me.”

“This has been going on that long? Have you gone to the police?”

“No,” Claire said dejectedly. “At first, I didn’t want the scrutiny of my personal life. I suppose I was in denial. I hoped it would just go away.”

Tristan looked around at all the windows in the sunroom and decided that it would be better if they went inside. She took Claire by the hand and led her to the bathroom. As Claire undressed, Tristan added more hot water, and after undressing, she climbed in herself.

Once she had Claire wrapped in her arms, Tristan broached the subject again. “Claire, honey, you have no suspects at all? Maybe an ex-lover?” She intentionally avoided bringing up Mike, waiting to see if Claire would.

Claire sniffed back the tears. “I confronted my most recent ex. I am certain it’s not her. I have searched my mind for anyone I thought could be remotely responsible and have come up with zip.”

“Did you say this started while you were in Houston?”

“Yes. The envelopes started coming almost a year ago. Since I have been living here, I’ve gotten two. Whoever it is knew exactly where to find me in Houston and now knows where I live and where I go. I know this sounds terrible, but I have been wondering a lot about Mike and Lauren.”

Tristan poured them each a glass of wine. “Did you know them before you got here?”

Claire thought for a minute as she sipped her wine, hoping it would calm her frazzled nerves. “I’ve worked with Lauren a 129

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couple of times when she was a floater. I’ve worked with Mike also on a couple of accounts.”

“Did either of them live in Houston the same time you did?”

“I know that Lauren lived in Beaumont for a while. Mike lived in Houston until he got the job here. I know you suspect Mike, but I can hardly believe he would be capable of such behavior.”

Tristan sighed. “I don’t want to accuse anyone, but they are both the most likely suspects in my mind. Especially Mike.”

Claire drank half her glass of wine, and Tristan topped it off for her. The wine was having a relaxing effect on Claire. She leaned back into Tristan, feeling comforted by her closeness.

“I suppose that stands to reason, but I can’t imagine why either of those two would do something like that to me. I would hate to go to the police and have them investigated. Can you imagine the scandal that would cause, especially if they were proven innocent?”

“Something needs to be done. I understand your reservations about going to the police. Either way, I will support you in your decision, but I don’t want him with you alone. No matter how mundane the conversation, you should always have someone else present when you talk to him. I’m doing my best to stay out of it and let you deal with him, but I’d really like to get my hands around his neck.”

“I just need a little time to make up my mind on that, Tristan. I’m so thankful I have you in my life now. It’s such a comfort to have your support.” Claire turned in Tristan’s arms to face her. “I don’t know if you’re ready to hear this or not. I have tried so hard to convey it to you without words, but I have to tell you that I love you very much.”

With hands covered in suds, Tristan caressed Claire’s face, giving her a bubble beard. “I love you, too, Claire. Now that I have you, I won’t let you go. You’re stuck with me for life.”

The conversation continued into the bedroom, where both women expressed their feelings for one another. Claire lay with her head on Tristan’s shoulder as she ran her fingers through her hair. She marveled at how different it had been that night. Tristan caressed her with a tenderness that she had never felt before.

Through each kiss and touch, they communicated the feelings that words alone could not convey.

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Both were pleasantly exhausted and on the verge of sleep when Claire noticed something in Tristan’s bedroom that she had not paid much attention to before. A picture hung on the wall, beautifully framed and matted. Through sleepy eyes, Claire could tell it was of a towboat on the Mississippi. The boat itself was just a shadow silhouetted by the setting sun. She was about to ask Tristan about it but found her sound asleep. Claire turned off the bedside lamp and burrowed close to the warm body that made her feel safe.

The next morning, Tristan left early to finish up some reports in the office. Claire used the excuse that she needed to catch up on laundry. She had argued that since she nearly lived there, she should help out with the household chores. She watched as Tristan drove down the driveway before she quickly dressed.

As she sat on the hard metal chair waiting for the detective who had been assigned to handle her complaint, Claire regretted not bringing Tristan with her. She tapped her tennis shoe nervously on the tile floor and clutched the brown envelope with the pictures and letters to her chest. She needed to do this herself, and she didn’t want Tristan to know how really terrified she was. This was something she needed to do on her own.

An attractive female detective approached her. “Miss Murray?”

“Yes.” Claire stood and accepted the hand extended to her.

“I’m Detective Salmetti. Please follow me to my office, and we will take down your complaint. Can I offer you something to drink? Coffee, maybe?”

“Yes, please, that would be great,” Claire accepted graciously.

She waited in the small office while the detective retrieved the coffee. Plaques of special recognition hung on the walls behind the desk. Claire admired the picture of a teenage boy sitting next to a little girl, noticing that they both strongly favored the detective.

“Those are my kids,” Salmetti said as she entered the room.

“They’re beautiful,” Claire responded.

“Yes, I think so, too, when I look at that picture, but when I get home and see what they’ve done to my house, I tend to look at them differently.” The detective chuckled as she took her seat.

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Murray. May I have a look at the pictures?” Salmetti asked, getting down to business.

Claire passed the envelope over the desk with shaking hands.

“These are the originals. You can keep them. I’ve made copies, as well. As I’ve stated in my report, this has been going on for nearly a year now.”

The detective glanced up at her. “I imagine this has really been a trial for you. Why have you waited so long to report this?”

“When I moved from Houston, I hoped that this would all be over, but this person has followed me here.” Claire took a sip of her coffee and set the steaming cup on the desk when her hands shook too much to hold it.

The detective thumbed through each picture. “How many people have looked at these, besides you and me?”

“My girlfriend has looked at them, but no one else.”

The detective glanced up at her for a split second, then went back to the pictures. “Most of the time, the stalker knows his victim quite well. Do you have someone in mind who you think may be capable of this?”

Claire chewed at her bottom lip. “There is a guy I work with who has been a little pushy about going out with me. My girlfriend suspects it may be him, but I’m not ready to accuse him yet. If I name him, will you question him?”

“This man has continued to pursue you, even after you have made it clear you don’t want to see him?”

“Yes, he has, but to be completely honest, if you question him, it is going to stir up a lot of controversy at the office, and I have just taken this job.”

“Miss Murray, that is a risk I think you ought to take. Perhaps if we will talk to him, he will lay off, even if he isn’t the one who has been stalking you.”

The detective set the pictures down on her desk and leaned back slightly in her chair, crossing her legs. “You’ve mentioned having a girlfriend twice. Is this woman someone who happens to be just a friend, or is she your lover?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

The detective smiled. “There are two reasons I ask. First, if you are a lesbian, you are accustomed to controversy, and I think you will be able to handle the fallout when we question your co-132

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worker. The second reason is, I want to know if you or she has an ex who might not be happy with your relationship.”

“I confronted my ex when I was still in Houston. After she pleaded with me to go to the police, I believed she was innocent. I can give you her name; I doubt she’ll mind speaking with you. I don’t know anything about Tristan’s exes.”

The detective’s eyebrow shot up at the revelation. “How long have you been involved with this woman?”

Claire’s face flushed with anger. She was embarrassed because she realized that she really didn’t know that much about Tristan’s past lovers. “We’ve been together for a few months, and I don’t think I like where this is going.”

“Why not?” the detective asked pointedly.

“Are you including my girlfriend as a suspect, just because we haven’t been together that long?”

“I’m just covering all the bases.”

“If a straight woman came in with the same complaint, would you suspect her boyfriend?” Claire fought hard to keep her anger at bay.

“Miss Murray, it’s my job to suspect everyone around you. It doesn’t matter to me what the sex of your lovers is. There have been cases where we have overlooked the obvious,” the detective stated kindly.

“I didn’t meet Tristan until I moved to Baton Rouge, so you are safe to cross her off the list,” Claire asserted calmly. “My employee Mike is the only plausible suspect in my mind because I worked with him on other accounts in the Houston area.”

The detective jotted notes on a tablet. “Let me run these for prints, and I will forewarn you when we go to question Mike. I promise we will do it away from the office and do our best to avoid causing you any embarrassment at your place of business.”

Tristan finished her work in record time and was happy to be headed home. She missed Claire in the short time they were apart.

She marveled that she had not had the compulsion to run from Claire anymore. She’d purged her soul of the hurt that she had harbored for years and now felt free to let someone in. For the first time in her life, she wanted someone to be there when she woke up each morning, and that someone was Claire. Nearly all her dark 133

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secrets had been revealed, and she knew she had one more hurdle to cross before Claire could truly be hers.

Claire eventually relaxed and spent a lot more time than she planned going over all the details with the detective. When she returned to Tristan’s place, Claire was surprised to see that Tristan had already beaten her there. She wondered if Tristan would be angry that she didn’t include her in the plans to go to the police.

When Claire opened the door, the smell of spicy food cooking filled her sinuses. Making a beeline for the stove, she lifted the lid to find seafood gumbo simmering. “Don’t even think about digging in yet, missy. It needs another hour.” Tristan laughed as the startled blonde dropped the lid onto the pot.

Tristan gave her a peck on the cheek. “Where have you been, honey? You didn’t leave a note, and I was beginning to get a little worried.”

“I had some errands to run. I got the laundry started, then I went out. Did you get caught up on your paperwork?” Claire asked, changing the subject.

“Yep, I did, and I rushed home because there is something I really want to talk to you about.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you got home. I’m all ears now.”

Tristan poured Claire and herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. “I was thinking about this on the way home today, Claire. I have to tell you ... I ... umm ...” Tristan’s nervousness was evident, and Claire reached across the table and took Tristan’s shaking hand into her own.

“I’ve never discussed this with anyone, and it’s so hard.” Tristan bowed her head, struggling with what she knew must come next.

“Is it about your mother?” Claire asked, trying to help.

“No, it’s not about her at all. Claire, I love you with all my heart.

Will you move in with me?” Tristan blurted out in a burst of words, knowing if she didn’t get it out quickly, she would lose her nerve.

Claire tucked her fingers underneath Tristan’s chin and lifted slightly until Tristan’s nervous eyes met her own. “Are you really 134

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in love with me, Tristan, because I am head over heels in love with you.”

Tristan smiled faintly. “I’ve never been truly in love, so I have nothing to compare it to. I can tell you, though, that I’ve never felt anything like this in my entire life.”

Claire jumped up from her chair and settled on Tristan’s lap. “I love you, too, sweetie, and I would love to move in with you.”

Tristan buried her face in Claire’s chest and breathed a sigh of relief.

“I do think we need to discuss a few things, though,” Claire said as Tristan looked up at her. “If you’re ready, I’d like you to tell me about your mother. I know it’s hard to talk about, but I want to know how to deal with Mallory should she ever show up here again.”

Tristan nodded and reached for her cigarettes. “Up until recently, I’ve never told a soul about my childhood.” She painfully explained the same things about her mother that she told Lucy. It was still a struggle but less of an effort this time around. Claire openly wept as Tristan relived the trauma.

“How could anyone treat her child that way?” Claire asked as tears poured down her face.

“I would like to know the answer to that and a million others. I think part of it was she was jealous of the relationship I had with my dad. We were always so close, and she was always left out, mostly of her own choosing.” Tristan wiped her eyes. “I’m a grown woman now, and I can’t let the ghosts of the past rule my life. My first step was allowing you to get close to me, and I am so glad I did.”

“Tris, while we’re bearing our souls, I need to tell you the truth about what I did today. I went to the police with the pictures and letters. The detective is going ...”

“You did what?” Tristan jumped up from the table, nearly throwing Claire to the floor. “Why ... Why did you go behind my back?”

Claire was shocked by Tristan’s reaction. “Baby, I didn’t go behind your back. I decided on the spur of the moment, and I went before I lost my nerve. Besides, I felt it was something I needed to do on my own.”

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Tristan stood staring at Claire, her eyes easily conveying the hurt and betrayal she felt. Claire got up and took her into her arms.

“I’m sorry, love. If I’d known that it was this important to you, I would have taken you with me.” She felt Tristan’s arms encircle her, but her body remained rigid. Claire closed her eyes and silently prayed that she had not set their relationship back by her misjudgment.

Claire spent the evening trying to make it up to Tristan. Tristan verbally accepted her apology, but Claire could tell there was something brewing behind her brown eyes. Later that evening as they lay in bed, both trying to sleep with the specter of hurt feelings hanging heavily upon them, Tristan confirmed for Claire that she did indeed still want her to move in. It was her first attempt to get back to the happy decision they made earlier in the day.

“If you would prefer, we can use your sofa, and I can move mine into the storage room. Whatever belongings you have that you would like to see in this house, feel free to tell me where you want them, and I will move my stuff out of the way. I want this to look and feel like your home, too, Claire. All I ask is that you leave the storage room to me. It hurts to go in there. That’s the real reason I have it locked. Dad’s stuff is in there.”

Claire rolled over and lay her head on Tristan’s shoulder. “Then, that will be your room, Tris. I have no reason to go in there. I wouldn’t want to invade something you keep so private anyway.”

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