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  The following day, in front of local and national press, Governor Bosley signed ten petitions. Under the Iowa State Constitution, a pardoned person was entitled to an expunction of all arrest records relating to the conviction. A full pardon restored all citizenship rights forfeited by law as the result of a criminal conviction and officially nullifies the punishment or other legal consequences of the crime. The person will forever be regarded as innocent and regain the status as if she never committed the offense for which she was convicted.

  Most importantly, a pardon granted by a state executive was final and irrevocable. Governor Bosley placed the ten documents into the manila folder already containing one. Smiling weakly at the cameras he stood and walked to the podium. “Ladies and gentleman, you witnessed my final act as governor of this great state. It’s with a solemn heart today that I resign from this prestigious office…”

  The clerk took the manila folder and placed each document inside its appropriate envelope. Counsel representing each individual would be contacted, prisoners would be informed, and if accepted by each prisoner, the pardon could not be overturned. Finally, the courts would be notified of each pardon. With so much activity and emotion, even the clerk didn’t realize she had filed eleven pardons instead of ten.

  *****

  Down the street from the State House, in another office building Jane Allyson, Attorney, paced nervously around her small office willing her telephone to ring. This was her first petition for pardon. She’d waited anxiously for verdicts from juries, verdicts that determined the freedom and future of her clients. Somehow this seemed different -- surreal. Her client had already lost her freedom and future by willingly pleading no contest to the charge of attempted murder.

  Jane remembered standing next to Ms. Nichols with an overwhelming sense of helplessness -- complete impotence -- as they listened to the judge discuss the consequences of Claire’s plea. Early in law school, Jane learned to remain emotionally detached from her clients. She usually succeeded. It was a matter of survival. She wouldn’t be able to help the next client if her thoughts lingered on the one she failed. However, that day, a year ago, Jane wanted to sit and cry with Claire Nichols. It was all so wrong.

  Time passes and seasons change. New clients come and go. Opportunities arise. Esquire Allyson now practiced with a firm in the heart of Iowa’s capital. Life was busy. Jane moved on -- until three days earlier, when a courier delivered a certified letter labeled: Confidential: Esquire Jane Allyson. Within the envelope she found the completed Petition for Pardon for Claire Nichols. No work on Jane’s part was required, except to sign as representing counsel. The attached typed note was short:

  Ms. Allyson, Perhaps you remember a client from about a year ago, Claire Nichols. Enclosed please find a petition for pardon to Governor Bosley. As you are probably aware, his time in office is short. This MUST reach his office today. All that is required of you is your signature. Enclosed please find a certified check to reimburse you for your undertaking. Thank you.

  Perhaps it was the check -- $100,000, made payable to Cash or the unsigned note, but accepting this assignment screamed wrong. What attorney in her right mind would accept a task and payment from an unknown source? Her future as well and law license may hinge on this decision. Jane knew she should consult the partners of her firm. That was her intent, until the small digital readout at the bottom of her computer screen caught her attention: 4:32 PM. The governor’s office was a ten minute walk.

  Jane delivered the signed petition.

  Now, she nervously awaited the future. The governor’s decision was made. Jane had watched his press conference on the web. Pacing her office, she continued to question the ethics and legality of her decision. If her telephone never rang, if the pardon wasn’t granted, no one would ever know she filed the petition. The check would remain in her file cabinet. No matter the governor’s decision, cashing the check seemed immoral and unethical.

  On the wall in an impressive oak frame, matted against distinguished slate backing was her diploma from the University of Iowa, College of Law. The official seal reflected light even through the glass. Could her decision to help this woman and accept this assignment void those years of education?

  She continued to pace the carpeted floor. She had plenty of work she could be doing. But, with the press conference an hour ago, she couldn’t concentrate on anything except willing her phone to ring. If the call didn’t come soon, it never would.

  The memories of Claire Nichols’ case flooded Jane’s thoughts. The idea to request a pardon had never occurred to her, but it was a good idea. The part that scared her – hell, it must have scared the person who sent her the application -- was Anthony Rawlings. The man was extremely influential. There would be repercussions if the pardon was actually granted. Jane pushed those thoughts away. She couldn’t think about that now. She could only wait.

  Lost in her own thoughts, the ringing of her telephone made her heart race and body flinch. Momentarily, she stared at the devise. Was it her imagination? Were the sounds truly resonating from the small plastic telephone? Reaching for the receiver, with a trembling hand, she utilized her courtroom skills and steadied her voice. “Hello, yes, this is Jane Allyson…”

  Jane’s grip upon the steering wheel blanched her knuckles. The drive from Des Moines to Mitchellville took less than thirty minutes, and at two fifteen in the afternoon traffic wasn’t an issue. The issue which lingered in Jane’s mind was her continual work under the radar. No one on planet Earth knew what she was doing. It added to the mystery.

  The dichotomous March sky stretched before her, gray upon gray. The shades weren’t the same, yet they weren’t different. Just clouds upon clouds. Turning east onto highway I 80 Jane thought about the prisoner only a few miles ahead. In her briefcase, on the seat next to her, was the one page document that would change Claire Nichols’ life forever.

  Three days ago, this document didn’t exist. Jane Allyson wondered about the petition and the check. Right or wrong, she decided to keep the assignment to herself. In the world of money and influence, anyone could be tempted to inform Anthony Rawlings of her impending quest.

  She wasn’t accusing anyone, at any level, of wrong doing. It was only that Claire made claims, real valiant assertions and accusations. Like mist from a lake into the cool evening sky, her testimony evaporated. Over a year later, no one -- not even nosey reporters -- had the slightest inclination of the possible alternate personality of Iowa’s golden boy. Some small voice within Jane’s soul warned her not to share her current activities. Once complete, she would request a meeting with the partners of the firm. Hopefully, they would understand. At this moment, Jane chose to worry about Claire, instead of possible personal consequences.

  Unbelievably, the list of pardoned individuals released to the media following the press conference didn’t include Claire Nichols. Yet, the document was in Jane’s possession. Pulling into the visitor’s parking area, Jane Allyson tingled with anticipation. Fourteen months ago she wasn’t able to help her client. Today she would.

  The elation vaporized with an unexpected realization. Jane stood statuesque, her hand upon the door, immobilized by a thought, who has $100,000 available to free Claire from prison? She’d been so attached to the premise that it was someone who feared Anthony Rawlings. What if instead of someone who feared him, what if it was him? Could it be? But why?

  By submitting the petition, instead of being a rebel, could Jane be a pawn? What if the freedom she was about to grant Claire was nothing more than an enticement to a web? Her hand held the door handle, and her stomach lurched. Jane couldn’t let these thoughts stop her forward progress. Claire Nichols deserved freedom. Jane needed to intercede and assure Claire’s freedom wasn’t only from the state of Iowa, but out of Iowa.

  An eerie florescent glow illuminated the small dingy visitor’s room. The artificial light added to the coolness of the metal table and chairs. Jane continued to check her watch. How long does it take to
bring a prisoner to this room?

  The answer was thirteen minutes. Nearly thirteen minutes after Jane’s arrival to the small colorless room the door opened. Accompanied by a guard, Claire Nichols entered and sat in the opposing chair. She looked much as Jane remembered, with her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Although her complexion was pale, even without makeup, her eyes were still the vivid green. Though similar in stature to herself, the prisoner appeared more petite inside her Iowa issued jumpsuit.

  “Jane, I’m surprised to see you. Why are you here?” Claire’s inquiry sounded amazingly strong.

  “Have you heard of a pardon?’

  “Yes, it’s something the president does before he leaves office. Why?”

  “Because it’s also something the governor does before leaving office.”

  Claire’s green eyes narrowed as she searched for words. “I don’t understand.”

  “Governor Bosley has cancer. He resigned from office today.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I believe he attended my wedding.” She paused momentarily contemplating the information, “What did you just say about a pardon?”

  “Claire, he signed a number of pardons before his resignation. The one I came to talk to you about is yours.”

  Claire heard Jane’s words. She tried diligently to process the information, but it wasn’t making sense. Words weren’t forming. Tears were.

  Jane watched as her former client struggled with her new reality. “First, you must accept the pardon.” Jane pulled the paper from her brief case and placed it on the smooth surface in front of Claire. “Once you do, you are free.”

  The prisoner stared at the document before her. She read her name and the charges. Governor Bosley’s signature was present with the official state stamp of Iowa. Only one line remained blank, the line for her signature. When her eyes left the paper and returned to the woman who’d been her defense counsel thirteen months ago, they sparkled with moisture which now coated her cheeks.

  Claire needed reassurance. Too many times in her life she’d been deceived. “Why do I have a pardon… and free… what does that mean? Free as in free, or free as in I must be watched and monitored…” her voice faded into unsuppressed emotions.

  Jane reached across the table and held Claire’s trembling hands. “If you sign this petition, you are free. A pardon means all charges are gone. They are expunged from your record. You are forgiven. You may leave this prison today and never look back.” As the words tumbled from Jane’s lips, Claire’s resolve melted. Her shoulders slumped and head bowed. Sounds didn’t indicate her sobs; it was the shuttering of her shoulders. Jane squeezed her hands. “You may go anywhere YOU want, whenever YOU want. Claire, where do you want to go?”

  Her green eyes glistened as her gaze returned to her counsel. “Where do I want to go?” Claire’s mind spun, it had been so terribly long since she’d control of her future. “I don’t know.”

  “I guess the first question you need to answer is: Do you accept the pardon?” Jane watched as Claire’s chest heaved. In desperation, the woman in orange attire nodded, words continued to fail her. “Then you need to sign the petition.” Claire nodded again.

  It took some time for Jane to calm her client. Once done, they secured her signature. There was processing to do, but before this day was done, Claire would leave the penitentiary alongside Jane.

  “When will I be released?” Claire found her voice, although more tentative than before.

  “I’m not leaving today without you.”

  Claire’s eyes beamed admiration toward her counsel. “What do I need to do?”

  “Do you have anything in your cell you want to take with you?”

  Claire debated her personal belongings. Yes, there were pictures, letters, research, and some tokens. She nodded.

  “Then you go back to your cell with a guard. I’ll take this pardon to the main office. They’ll bring you to me in a short time.” Claire continued to nod in agreement. “I have some clothes in case the ones you wore during your arrest don’t fit. They’ll return all your belongings from that day.”

  “Thank you.” Claire looked down at the table. “I don’t have any money to pay you for your work.”

  Jane thought of the cashier’s check. “Let’s get you out of here, and then we’ll talk reimbursement.” Jane’s smile proved contagious. Claire returned the smile and squeezed Jane’s hands. “Before you go back to your cell, who can I call? Is there someone who can meet you? Someone to take you somewhere? Or do you want to stay in Iowa?” Jane silently prayed her client wanted to leave, and she had somewhere to go.

  “Where can I go?”

  “Anywhere you want. Who can I call?”

  Claire contemplated the question. She wanted to leave Iowa and all its memories as soon as possible. But who could help her? She had no money. Her sister would come, but it would take her time. Besides, Emily didn’t have money either. Then she thought of someone, an albeit unlikely friend.

  Many months ago, after receiving Anthony’s box of secrets, Claire decided to contact Amber McCoy, Simon Johnson’s fiancée. She felt a connection, two women done wrong by the actions of Anthony Rawlings. Today, Claire knew Amber was the one person who could help. “Amber McCoy, CEO of SiJo Gaming, Palo Alto, California. I don’t know her number.”

  Writing everything down, Jane answered, “Don’t worry, I’ll get in contact with her before you reach me in the main office.”

  “Thank you.” Claire stood and walked toward the door. With her hand in mid knock, she repeated, “Really Jane, thank you, I never expected this, ever.”

  “We’ll talk more in the car. Now get your things, there is a big wonderful world waiting for you.” Jane watched as Claire lifted her head and squared her shoulders. Next, she knocked upon the door and was led to her cell. For a few more minutes Claire endured the indignation of her prisoner status. The guard didn’t know she was now a free woman. Unlike the last time, as Jane watched Claire escorted away, this time, she took comfort in knowing it was only temporary.

  Jane wondered why it wasn’t more difficult. Removing a prisoner from a medium security penitentiary should be harder. Yet, with the governor’s signature and a piece of paper, Claire Nichols was now riding in the passenger seat of her Toyota Corolla, wearing jeans and hiking boots from fourteen months earlier.

  Claire chose to wear the blouse Jane brought for her. It was slightly large, but nonetheless, as Jane viewed Claire in her peripheral vision, Claire didn’t seem concerned. Instead, she appeared mesmerized by the landscape, occasionally sighing or dabbing her eyes. Jane tried to imagine Claire’s state of mind. Of course, her client was emotional; her entire life had just abruptly changed – again. It would be a difficult transition for anyone.

  Sporadically, Jane checked her rearview mirror. There were no signs they were being followed. However, if the benefactor of the $100,000 knew about Claire’s release, Jane worried he or she might be waiting for their departure.

  Breaking the silence, Jane said, “I didn’t speak with Ms. McCoy, but her assistant said there’ll be a ticket waiting for you at the American Airlines counter.”

  “I don’t have identification.” The sudden realization frightened Claire. Could this oversight land her back in prison?

  “Yes, you do. Iowa issued you an identification card identifying your personal belongings. You have all of that don’t you?”

  Claire hugged the small bag. All of her possessions in the entire world were contained within the small nylon bag. Along with the items from her cell, Claire’s bag held the blue cashmere sweater and the jewelry she’d been wearing upon her arrest. At twenty-nine, it seemed like such a small accumulation. “I do. I didn’t realize the identification card would work outside of prison.”

  As Jane turned the Toyota south onto highway 235, she inhaled deeply and breached the uncomfortable subject. “Claire, I need to tell you something. The petition for your pardon wasn’t my idea.”

  The
trance holding Claire Nichols' thoughts captive released its hold; she zeroed in upon her savior, the person who’d freed her from a life of solitude. However, after so much time alone, conversation was difficult. Claire tried desperately to fill the silences. If one person spoke, then it was time for the next. Very easy, she could do it. “What do you mean?”

  Jane told Claire about the anonymous letter, the almost complete petition for pardon, and the certified cashier's check. She didn’t mention her fear as she entered the penitentiary. She waited to see if it was shared.

  Claire asked, “Who would spend $100,000 for my release?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Claire observed the expression, body language, and tone of the woman next to her. It had been a while, but she believed Jane spoke truthfully. Her attorney didn’t know who planted the seed for her emancipation.

  Jane continued, “I can tell you, initially, I believed whoever this was, they wanted you released without associating their name. I believed they were protecting themselves from your ex-husband.”

  Claire ingested her words, it made sense. She reasoned, if Tony knew someone helped in her release, who knows what he might do. Then she registered every word, “Initially? Jane, what do you mean initially?”

  As Jane answered, her Toyota headed south toward the Des Moines International Airport. “I have to admit, I’ve had another thought.” Claire didn’t speak, but listened and watched. Jane continued, “What if the petition, letter, and money came from an unlikely source, someone to whom $100,000 was nothing?”