Behind His Eyes - Convicted: The Missing Years

by Aleatha Romig

  Brent concurred. “Yes, just today in Chicago…” His voice trailed away.

  Tom refocused the conversation. “I’m sorry about Burke and Michaels, but,” he slapped Brent’s back again, “I’m thrilled you’re here. We have a lot of work ahead of us. Tony was just telling me a little about his time away and a connection with the FBI.”

  Brent turned to Tony. “I just got off the phone with Agent Jackson.” Tom shot Brent a look of disbelief as Brent continued, “Part of your agreement was to not return to the US. He said you nullified your agreement.”

  “What does that mean?” Tony demanded. “They’re going to throw our whole agreement out the window? What about Claire? They promised that she wouldn’t—”

  Brent interrupted. “One step at a time. Let me see what I can do.”

  “Get me out of here. Get any and all charges removed from Claire and anyone else. I’ll take responsibility for what I’ve done, but my list of crimes is miniscule in comparison to what I learned today at the estate. It’s all recorded. The cameras in the office should have gotten it all. Make sure you get that evidence.”

  “This is so farfetched, yet obviously you both know more than I do,” Tom said.

  “Tom,” Tony’s dark eyes turned toward his friend. “It was a need-to-know basis. The FBI wouldn’t allow—”

  “No. Don’t worry about that. I’m happy to know you’re not losing it. I was beginning to wonder,” Tom replied with a grin. “We’ll get you out of here as soon as we can.”

  “Today. And get me information on my family.”

  Brent and Tom nodded.

  “Tom,” Tony said, “I want you to go to the hospital. Stephens is a good man, but when Claire wakes, she needs someone she recognizes. I have a bad feeling about Emily and John.”

  “The people you risked everything to save?” Tom interjected.

  Nodding, Tony continued. “They don’t even know what you know, and that is so little of this story. Everyone keeps questioning our marriage.” Tony’s eyes widened as he turned toward Brent. “I will not implicate anyone else, but as my counsel, please contact the person who can help get the necessary documents to prove we’re married. He’s good, Brent. I’d bet he could obtain what you need in a matter of hours. It would take the State Department days or weeks.”

  Tom listened and shrugged. “Need to know?”

  “Yes, some things are better left unknown for right now. Just go to Claire. Let Brent get me out of here.”

  Tom nodded. “I will.”

  “So will I,” Brent replied, and added, “Don’t answer any questions. Don’t let them bait you into anything. Tony, this is not as simple as before. You need to listen to me.”

  A slight grin came to Tony’s lips as he once again slapped Brent’s shoulder. “Who am I to refuse the man who just overcame death?”

  “What about Courtney?” Tom asked.

  “She’s waiting for me here.” Brent’s eyes held the first spark of hope that Tony hadn’t seen in hours. “She wants to go to Claire, but right now she seems to have an issue letting me out of her sight.”

  “Thanks Brent. I mean that.” Tony said, with the most heartfelt gratitude he’d ever known. “You too, Tom. I have total faith in both of you. Now get me the hell out of here.”

  When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind, not with it.

  —Henry Ford

  Despite Brent and Tom’s best efforts, the booking of Mr. Anthony Rawlings did occur, as did the booking of Claire Nichols Rawlings. Her name was no longer in question: documentation had been produced verifying their marriage. It didn’t matter who they were or what their last name was. The accusations were too blatant to not be addressed. The Iowa City Police Department had recorded the call from Ms. Catherine London. The transcripts were leaked to the press. She claimed that she feared for her life, said that Anthony Rawlings had returned from hiding and was talking irrationally about killing her and her guests. She wasn’t only scared for herself but for the Vandersols. Why else would he have returned, but to stop their constant public accusations? When the police arrived, the evidence substantiated her claim. Ms. London had been shot. Simple ballistic tests found gun residue, proving that Claire Rawlings was the shooter. According to the Iowa City chief prosecutor, the case was sad, simple, and straightforward.

  Due to the severity of the crime, the defendants were not granted stationhouse bail and were kept in custody until the complaint was filed and the first appearance before the judge was scheduled. Claire Rawlings was still in the hospital, and the debate had started about her future. In a bold move, the prosecutor had booked Claire in absentia.

  The small Iowa City jail cell wasn’t like anything Tony had ever experienced. Each minute inside of it lasted an eternity. He paced the confines for hours. Thankfully, Brent visited frequently. Of course, it was all in the name of generating Tony’s defense, but it was more than that: it was Tony’s only reprieve, his saving grace. Each time Brent arrived at the jail, a guard would escort Tony from the claustrophobic cell.

  “Tell me what’s happening with Claire.” Tony demanded, once they were again alone in the visitor’s room.

  “We don’t know much. Roach is our main source of information, and Emily has banned him and anyone else from contact with Claire.”

  “I’m her husband. Roach got the documentation from Francis. How can she refuse me? I want to know what’s happening with my wife and daughter. Besides, when Claire gets out of that hospital, she’s not going to jail. I won’t let that happen, not again. I don’t know how she survived in here the first time. She has the full legal staff at Rawlings ready for her defense. Emily can’t possibly want to deny her own sister legal representation.”

  Brent shook his head. “She isn’t denying her representation. John is representing her. He has his license back.”

  “In Iowa? He was never licensed for Iowa.”

  “No, he’s acting as co-counsel with Jane.”

  Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his dark eyes, and released a long breath. “I’ll pay them whatever they want. I don’t like it, and I’d rather you were involved in her defense, but I think that John and Jane will have her best interests at heart.”

  Brent leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Roach is laying low. I told him to leave town, but he won’t. I’m worried that he’ll be charged with aiding and abetting or possibly accessory to commit a crime. He has a rather colorful history. It definitely could be used against him.”

  “He doesn’t know a thing. No one does.”

  Brent’s brows rose in question.

  “That’s my story—I’m sticking to it.”

  “You know,” Brent continued, “all of your, Claire’s, and Nichol’s things were found in a hotel in Cedar Rapids. Apparently that was where you were staying once you came back to Iowa?”

  “Roach is good. Don’t expect him to take you up on that offer to leave town. I know he isn’t sticking around for me, but damn, I’m glad he’s sticking around. He probably has the hospital’s network totally accessed and knows more about Claire than Emily does.” Tony stood and walked toward the wall. “I’ve never liked her. She’s never liked me.” He spun around. “But I fuck’n saved them from that house and this is how the bitch thanks me? Keeping me totally out of the loop. She can’t deny that we’re married.”

  “Claire, according to Roach, is awake but unresponsive.”

  “What does that mean—unresponsive?”

  “She isn’t speaking to anyone, not even Emily or John.”

  “What about Nichol? Surely she’ll respond to Nichol.”

  “We’re going totally by doctor’s notes only, but I don’t think she has.”

  “Get me the hell out of here and let me see her. She’ll respond to me.”

  “I’m working on it. Your first appearance before the judge is scheduled for early tomorrow morning.” Before Tony could blow at the prospect of spendin
g another night in the jail, Brent continued, “Judge Jefferies will accommodate your proposal. It took a little longer to get on his docket, but the end result will be guaranteed bail. It was a trade-off: I thought it was the right move. If your bail request were denied at first appearance, it would be more difficult to have that decision reversed. You’re getting a lot of press on this as it is. I don’t want to add fuel to the fire.”

  “Fine, one more night in this hell-hole and then I can sleep in my own bed. What about Claire? When is her first appearance?”

  “I’m trying to learn. I’ve got a clerk at Evergreen’s office who will let me know as soon as the complaint is officially filed and the date is set. I’d assume today or tomorrow. They can use her medical condition as an excuse, but rarely does the first appearance go longer than seventy-two hours from the time the complaint is filed.”

  “Whatever the amount is for her bail or mine, have it ready. Neither one of us will be in jail long. And what about Catherine? She needs to rot in this jail.”

  “Tony, Eric showed me the footage from the office at the estate. Right now, you’re being charged with intimidation, accessory to commit murder, and eluding the FBI. If we show anyone that footage, I’m sure that your list of charges will increase. Are you sure you want all of that to get out there?”

  Tony stared incredulously. “Are you kidding me? Hell yes! I’m willing to admit to anything to show the judge what that bitch is capable of doing.”

  “Let’s get you out first. Then you can take the tapes to Evergreen.”

  Tony’s head ached as he massaged his temples. “She sure as shit better not be anywhere near my house.”

  “She’s still in the hospital. That’s why I believe we have time. She’s playing the victim card, and I don’t expect her to change her tune anytime soon.”

  “Get me out of here.”

  “Tomorrow morning, you’ll be out.”

  “If Jefferies screws me, he’ll regret it.”

  “He won’t,” Brent assured.

  The Rawlings attorneys made a little headway. Instead of being part of the normal parade of defendants, Anthony Rawlings was granted a private first appearance in Judge Jefferies’ courtroom. All members of the press and spectators were removed, leaving only Tony and Brent, as well as the prosecutor, stenographer, and judge.

  The judge’s tone resounded through the cavernous courtroom, speaking with the authority expected of one in such a position. He never faltered in his reiteration of the charges levied against the great Anthony Rawlings. Tony too, never wavered, as he stood before the judge dressed in his customary Armani tailored suit.

  “Mr. Rawlings, you have been charged with intimidation, eluding federal agents, assault with the intent to commit bodily harm, two counts of false imprisonment, and accessory to attempted murder. While most of these charges are misdemeanors, accessory to commit murder and false imprisonment are felonies. Accessory to attempted murder can be punishable by up to five years in a federal penitentiary, while each charge of false imprisonment can reach a maximum penalty of twenty years. Do you understand these charges?”

  Standing confidently, Tony’s dark eyes shot toward Brent. He hadn’t mentioned the false imprisonment charge. Turning back toward the judge, Tony replied, “I do, Your Honor.”

  “Do you also understand that you may not leave the country before or during these proceedings?”

  “I do.”

  “Very well, it is the opinion of this court that bail will be set at—”

  “Judge Jefferies,” Marcus Evergreen interrupted. “While I want to believe Mr. Rawlings that he will not flee, he definitely has the means, and due to recent events, the ability to disappear. We recommend that Mr. Rawlings’ request for bail be denied.”

  “Thank you for your recommendation, Counselor. This is my courtroom, and it is my opinion that Mr. Rawlings has ties to this community, as well as a family. I have decided to grant bail in the amount of $10,000,000.”

  Tony’s shoulders relaxed as he flashed a grin at Brent. It was one thing to have a promise of bail: it was quite another to have it said aloud in court.

  Mr. Evergreen pleaded, “Judge, then we ask that Mr. Rawlings surrender his passport into the custody of the court until such time when all the proceedings have completed.”

  “Mr. Rawlings, will that be necessary?”

  “No, judge, I will not leave the country. I intend to be near my family.”

  “I believe you have your answer, Mr. Evergreen. Now, Mr. Rawlings, you are aware that you have a right to counsel, and if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.”

  Brent replied, “Mr. Rawlings has counsel, Your Honor.”

  “Very well, we’re done here. Next…” Judge Jefferies proclaimed with a strike of his gavel, allowing Tony to walk as a free man out the doors of the courtroom. Suddenly, the stillness of the nearly empty room was replaced with a gallery of reporters shouting questions.

  “Mr. Rawlings, tell us your side of this story.”

  “Was your wife trying to kill you—again?”

  “Where have you been?”

  “Why did you remarry?”

  Tony and Brent remained silent as they pushed through the crowd, exited the Johnson County District Courthouse, and slipped into a waiting car. Eric smiled into the rearview mirror as he sat behind the steering wheel. “It’s good to have you back, Mr. Rawlings.”

  “Thank you, Eric, it’s good to be back. Take me to the hospital. I want to see my wife.” Tony turned to Brent. “What the hell was that false imprisonment charge?”

  Brent looked up from his phone. “I just heard about it minutes before we went into the courtroom.”

  “Who the hell did I restrain?”

  “We can get that charge dropped once we produce the tapes. Don’t worry about it.”

  Tony tried to concentrate, but concerns about Claire kept interrupting his thoughts. “Wait—what are you saying? Who am I charged with imprisoning? I didn’t imprison Catherine.”

  “Tony, concentrate on Claire and Nichol. Let me worry about this.”

  “Two counts at twenty years a piece seem worthy of my concern.” Tony sighed. “Fine. I still can’t believe it about Sophia. Did you do what I asked?”

  “Yes, Derek’s parents were contacted and Rawlings Industries has offered to help in any way with the arrangements.”

  “Good.” Tony’s mind went back to his wife. Roach’s reports had gone to Brent and ultimately to Tony throughout Tony’s seventy-two hours of incarceration. Roach had accessed the hospital’s network, as well as Emily and John’s phones. He was getting an array of medical notations from the hospital and personal comments from their text messages. The latest information was that Claire was awake, speaking, and exhibiting amnesia type symptoms: incoherent speech, lack of recognition of loved ones, and the inability to answer simple questions. Though Emily authorized tests and scans to try to learn the cause of her sudden psychosis, the results were inconclusive. Tony wondered if Claire could be faking it, trying to save herself from prison. He knew she didn’t mean to pull that trigger. It was an accident. Tony claimed it was self-defense. When he spoke with her, he planned to reassure her and explain that with her lawyers and all the resources that Rawlings’ legal could provide, she’d be cleared in no time.

  The consequences of Tony’s decisions continued to harm his family. He swore that Claire would never again be subjected to the inhumanity of a jail cell. Then he’d think about Nichol. It broke his heart to think of their daughter without her mother or father. It wasn’t right.

  From Roach’s monitoring of the Vandersols’ cell phones, Tony knew that Emily was caring for his daughter. That wouldn’t last. Tony intended to bring her home with him immediately. He’d hire a nanny to help until Claire was better. First and foremost, Tony wanted to get to Claire.

  As Eric weaved through traffic, Tony barked orders into his cell phone, telling Patricia to get recommendations for reputable na
nnies. He also touched base with Roach, happy to be able to contact him directly. Tony, too, told Roach that he should leave town. Of course he refused.

  “I’m not done with my job. I don’t leave unfinished work.”

  Tony grinned. “I know I’m not the appreciative type, but Claire is. So, for right now, I guess it’s my job. Thanks for everything. She was definitely right about you.”

  Eric pulled the car up to the front of the hospital.

  “You don’t need to babysit me,” Tony said to Brent.

  “Yes, I do. I know how you feel about the Vandersols and how they feel about you. You don’t need any more charges filed against you.”

  Tony shrugged. Brent was probably right. They made their way up to Claire’s room. As the elevator doors opened, a woman with short dark hair stepped forward. “Mr. Anthony Rawlings?”

  “Yes.”

  She reached in her bag and pulled out a large envelope. Handing it to Tony, she said, “You have been served.”

  “What the hell?” Tony asked in disbelief as the woman entered the elevator, the doors closed, and Brent and Tony were left staring at the envelope.

  “Let me see that,” Brent said as he reached for the envelope and opened the flap.

  Tony moved to Brent’s shoulder so they could both read the words. It didn’t take long for the meaning to be clear. Tony staggered. “A restraining order, for both Claire and Nichol? They can’t be serious! I’m going to see my wife.”

  “No, Tony. You can’t afford to break this order. It’ll land you back in jail.”

  “I don’t give a damn about some piece of paper. I haven’t seen Claire since the shooting. No one is keeping me away from her or Nichol,” he added.

  Brent reached for Tony’s arm.

  “Don’t do it, Brent. Don’t try to stop me.” Tony’s dark eyes glared.

  “I’m doing what needs to be done. I’m going to bet when we turn that corner, there are policemen outside of her room. Husband or not, Anthony Rawlings or not, you can’t walk through a restraining order. The day is young. Let me find out the allegations and why this was granted. We’ll get it overturned, hopefully today.”