Exit Row

By Amy M. Washington

About the Book
After years of being emotionally and physically abused Claire finds herself on the run from her wealthy husband. With the help of friends—women in high places, as well as staff members—Claire is able to fly away, with a new identity. But how long can she stay under her well-connected husband’s radar? Exit Row is the first book in a warm-hearted thriller that proves you don’t have to stay in a loveless, abusive marriage to survive. Friends will always be there for those willing to change their lives.

About the Author
Amy M. Washington is a U.S. Army Veteran. Her father is a Vietnam Era Veteran. She has been married to the love of her life, who is also a U.S. Army retiree, for over twenty years. They have five children between the two of them. She is a graduate of Jefferson Community College with an associate’s degree in applied science, Averett University with a bachelor’s degree in business administration, and American Public University with a master’s degree in legal studies. She is originally from Conway, South Carolina, but now lives in Upstate New York.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dorrance Publishing Company
• Release date: Aug 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798889255192

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

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One potato, two potato, three potato, four. The children’s mantra played over and over in Claire’s head. That, and the terrifying thought that perhaps her husband might find her.

Clair wasn’t afraid to fly. She had done it hundreds of times in her life. During college, she frequently caught flights with her roommate to visit their family during spring break or maybe for the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. Today’s flight, however, was not for pleasure or just to get away for a little while; it was for her survival.

Claire wished she had a first-class ticket. If she had been given a choice in the flight plans, she would have asked to be seated in first-class; either way, she would have had to wait until the other passengers were seated. Counting the other passengers’ heads was a way of taking her mind off her predicament. Her thoughts turned to her husband and his opinion that flying first-class was important if one wanted to be comfortable.

The mid-sized plane Claire boarded was bound for Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport. It was set to take off in twenty minutes and, from the looks of it, the flight would leave on-time. Claire waited anxiously as more and more passengers boarded the plane. Some of them had small carry-on bags. Others juggled toddlers from arm to arm while trying to negotiate around others attempting to stuff bags, that were obviously too big, into the overhead compartments. A group of teenagers dressed in tropical-looking attire bobbed back and forth while they waited for the aisle to clear. They all had headphones on and listened to the latest popular music. Claire smiled at their innocence; she could remember the few times she and a group of friends went to some tropical destination over a long weekend from school.

Still trying to keep her mind occupied, Claire decided to look at the in-flight entertainment options that had been placed in the seat pocket. Things had changed a lot since the last time Claire had been on a plane, over ten years before. Now the magazines were filled with information so a passenger with almost any interest could find an appealing article to read—from far-off, exotic places to homegrown five-star restaurants right there in the United States filled the pages. Claire always found it odd that in-flight magazines frequently had food recipes. She thought a passenger’s only recourse for remembering the recipe would be to pull out their phone and take a photo of the pages; that, or have a photographic memory.

Closing the magazine and placing it back in the pocket of the seat in front of her was an easy choice for Claire. She wasn’t interested in gourmet cooking, European vacation experiences, or historical buildings in Chicago. She didn’t plan on staying in one place long enough to experience anything other than a quick meal and several cups of airport coffee.

The flight attendant announced the final call for boarding had been made and the plane would be pulling away from the gate in five minutes. She asked that all passengers please ensure their seats were upright and they begin to fasten their seatbelts and settle in for what looked to be a carefree flight into the third largest airport in the United States.

Claire looked out of the plane’s window and counted herself lucky enough to have been able to get a window seat. The skies above held wintery gray streaks, but there was no snow falling. It allowed Claire to believe that maybe, just maybe, she would be able to get away and never look back. After checking that her seatbelt was securely fastened, Claire rested her head on the seatback and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and let some of the tension she was feeling leave her body.

A few minutes later, the same flight attendant announced the plane was about ready to push away from the terminal and get in line to begin its taxi to the runway. Just as she was preparing to close the plane’s door, one last passenger made her way onto the plane. Claire could hear the woman’s breathless Thank you as she made her way down the aisle.

The seat next to Claire was unoccupied. Claire had hoped she would be able to stretch out a little during the short flight, but soon realized that luck hadn’t shone on her completely. With her eyes still closed, Claire knew the woman who had boarded at the last minute was taking the seat next to her.

She chose to keep her eyes closed. Not necessarily pretending to be asleep but wanting to give the impression she was unbothered by this person. Claire knew her actions may come across as being rude, but her logical thoughts reminded her it was in her best interest to remain distant from all people she came across. It was the only way she could move on without revealing who she really was. It terrified her that she might reveal some small clue about herself and a person she had a chance conversation with would put two and two together. Maintaining her anonymity was the most important thing for the plan work; to keep her safe.

The woman settled in while the flight attendant made the safety announcements to the passengers and once again welcomed everyone onto the flight. She introduced the pilot and co-pilot this time.

Just as she finished the announcements, Claire could feel the plane begin to back away from the terminal gate. Still, she kept her eyes closed.

Making her way down the aisle, the attendant made sure all overhead compartments were closed, all tray tables were secured, all seats were in the upright position, and any personal items the passengers kept were stowed under the seat in front of them. Claire took pride in the fact she could sit with her eyes closed and not have to worry about being reprimanded by the flight attendant. She had had enough of being reprimanded for insignificant things over her lifetime.

The plane made its way into the line of others and waited for permission to enter the tarmac and prepare for take-off. It seemed like the wait lasted a lifetime, but it was only about ten minutes. Soon enough, the engines roared. The plane moved down the runway so fast that, as Clair turned her head and looked out the small window, all she saw was the blur of the evergreens that edged the airports surrounding land.

The perpetual motion caused by the speed pushed Claire back into her seat. She closed her eyes again, this time resting her head against the small windowpane. The cool glass soothed her frayed nerves as the ground dropped away. Only when the plane had leveled off and the pilot had announced their cruising altitude and expected arrival time, did Claire open her eyes and allow the tears she had been holding in to fall.

A voice next to her said, Well, now that all the unpleasantness is over. Hi. I’m Amber Lee Robinson.

CHAPTER Two

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Eleven years earlier

Taking a few minutes to walk around the grounds of the family’s massive estate had always given Claire a little peace and quiet. Although her family was small, there was a constant humming of work being done inside the walls of their home; partly due to the twenty servants keeping the house immaculately clean, but mostly due to the somewhat constant stream of high society businessmen and associates of Claire’s father. The house was rarely void of the voices of people who didn’t live there. Today was no different.

The activity inside today was due to the preparations being made for a graduation party in Claire’s honor. The driveway, which snaked along the back of the estate, was lined with vans from florists, caterers, and a well-known party planning company that would construct tents around the grounds.

Thomas Dumont, Claire’s father, was a powerful force in the business world of both their local community and the far reaches of the state. In the beginning, he had made a name for himself by making sure he was involved in small-town development deals; ensuring he was at the table for any business regarding expanding the town and bringing it into the modern age. He was constantly involved in discussions with the town board and various developers. The discussions mainly involved building new housing developments, reopening industrial centers that had long been out of operation, or deciding the path of a new street to better accommodate a growing tourist industry that passed through. Initially, his presence was not seen as necessary, and at times an irritant to the town board members, but eventually they learned Thomas Dumont wasn’t only eager to become a part of the local goings-on, but he was also smart as a whip and knew how to stretch every dollar invested on projects.

Thomas came from a long line of Dumonts who all managed to keep the family money in the local area. The Dumonts had always been a family with a stellar reputation; it allowed them to keep close ties with other industry giants throughout the state and country; they weren’t a family to be taken lightly. Thomas had proven at a young age he would play, but when it came down to business, he was no fool and his apple didn’t fall far from his family tree.

Claire had learned at a young age much was expected of her. Although she was allowed to do the things little girls did, such as play with dolls and hold tea parties with her stuffed animals, she became aware at a young age the reason her parents allowed her to do them wasn’t for the simple joy of it. It was to teach proper etiquette and the manners expected of a young lady. She was expected to one day reach the pinnacle of high society. To whom much is given, much will be required, was an understatement when it came to her.

Claire sat alone in her favorite place, an arbor situated on the corner of the grounds. She went there when she needed to get away from the constant shuffling of feet from the mansion. Here she could just breathe and enjoy the scent of the flowers. She sat on the bottom step, took her shoes off, and let her toes sink into the grass. The sun had not burned off the morning dew yet and the spattering of moisture felt glorious on her feet.

Even better, Claire thought.

Soon it would be time for her to return indoors and begin the ritual of getting ready to be presented to the guests who would be arriving later in the day. Claire knew none of the guests would be coming to celebrate her accomplishments; the party was just another excuse for them to come together and have whispered conversations that would have been more appropriately held in a boardroom. She hoped her father and mother were proud of her, but she knew they never did anything without a purpose. The dinner party had to serve one as well. Right?

A few weeks before, Claire had heard her parents—mostly her father—speaking in hushed tones about an introduction to be made at the party. They expressed the importance of a connection that would last a lifetime. Although Claire was curious about what—more specifically who—they were speaking of, she never broached the subject with either of them. From what she could tell, it would make them the most powerful family in the state. Power, along with money, were the most important things to Claire’s father, even more important than her.

She gave herself a few more minutes of solitude before putting her shoes back on and made her way to the house. The conversation between her parents ruminated in her thoughts, but she knew she had to put it aside. Whatever her parents were up to, and with whomever, was none of her concern. She had never seen them make a move before thoroughly thinking it through and they would never do anything that would hurt the family.

As she stepped to the backdoor of the house, Claire heard the crunch of gravel. A car had just pulled up to the guest’s entrance. It was a limousine with tinted windows and equally black paint, mirror-like in the bright sunshine. The sight of the car was nothing unusual for the type of guests that frequented her family’s gatherings. The passenger hadn’t gotten out of the vehicle yet, so Claire continued on her way.

Just as she reached for the door handle, a cold gust of wind blew through the estates. Claire felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She gave a slight shiver, turned the doorknob, and went inside thinking nothing of it.

• • •

Patience and making deliberately decided movements had been embedded in Claire since she was a young child. She knew she had to apply those lessons while she readied herself for the gathering that would be starting in just a few minutes. Claire was sure the look she would present to their guest was one of sophistication and elegance. Even at the age of twenty-six, Claire found it necessary to display her best self to anyone outside of the family. She had taken great care to pick the perfect outfit. The cream-colored pantsuit was paired with a modest set of heels, a string of pearls, and matching earrings; it fit the bill perfectly. For makeup, Claire chose the more acceptable pallet of neutral colors. Nothing too colorful. Nothing too outstanding. Simple and natural was the way to go.

Whether to wear perfume was what Claire still needed to decide. Her mother had always expressed to her that to over-scent yourself was a social faux paux; especially, if the scent stood the chance of being recognized as being cheap. Claire thought her mother’s point of view was absurd. Who could possibly know just by smelling something whether it was expensive or not? She had proven her point several times over the years by applying essential oils she found and had purchased from a roadside flea market. Once or twice, her mother had gone as far as to ask where she found the subtle scents, but Claire never revealed her secret. She smiled while applying the rose-scented oil to her wrists and behind her earlobes. It reminded her of her favored rose abhor.

The sounds of guests arriving had grown to a polite crescendo of voices downstairs. Before making her appearance, Claire glanced out her bedroom window and saw people sipping champagne while awaiting the guest of honor. She sighed; soon she would have to play the role of the debutante she was raised to be.

Memories of always being told to be anything other than her true self ascended in Claire. She felt the urge to simply not go downstairs but knew she would be reprimanded for that type of behavior. The desire to curl up in a corner with a good book or, better yet, go for a long drive— anything to get away from the house—threatened to overtake Claire’s senses. 

She had never felt being a socialite came naturally to her. Yes, she did