Behind His Eyes - Convicted: The Missing Years

by Aleatha Romig

  “Harry, we’re so sorry about Amber,” Emily offered, as she led him to the screened porch. The shaded room with the softly rotating ceiling fan offered them the beauty of the outdoors with a refreshing breeze. “We’re very familiar with false accusations. Hopefully, during the trial—”

  Harry shook his head, and replied, “Thank you, time will tell; however, it doesn’t look promising.”

  Emily offered a reassuring hug. “I’m sorry. I’m sure it was a shock.”

  “It was. It’s actually made me rethink a lot of my choices, kind of a life inventory.”

  Just then, the shrill ring of children’s laughter resonated from beyond the porch. “The kids are playing with their nanny in the side yard,” John explained with a grin.

  Light returned to Harry’s blue eyes. “I bet they’re getting big. I’ve never met your son. Michael? Is that right?”

  “It is. He’s almost two. It’s hard to believe,” John said.

  “And Nichol?” Harry asked.

  “She’ll be three in December, and she’s beautiful,” Emily offered with pride.

  “I bet she is. She has a beautiful mother.” Harry’s words carried a wave of sadness. “How is Claire doing?”

  John looked at Emily, deferring to her. Even with the closest of friends she was apprehensive about sharing information.

  “She hasn’t changed much since you saw her last,” Emily began. “I don’t share it with many people, but since you two were close, I will. As much as I want to be positive, most research suggests that if recovery doesn’t happen within the first twelve months, it’s unlikely.”

  Harry nodded. “I’ve looked into traumatic brain injury, too.”

  Taking Emily’s lead, John went on. “However, Claire’s doctor heard this professor from Princeton speak at some medical conference. He has research showing recovery as late as four years post psychotic break. The NFL and its problems with CTE (chronic traumatic encephalopathy) has really spawned a surge in research into TBI recovery.”

  “Yes, I honestly think of Claire every time I see something about it on the news,” Harry said.

  “Emily’s agreed to allow this doctor to review Claire’s information and run some more tests. Once he’s done with that, we’re supposed to meet with him and hear what he has to say.”

  Harry’s forehead wrinkled. “So this is good information?”

  Emily feigned a grin. “We hope so, but I don’t like to get my hopes up.”

  “It’s the most encouraging news we’ve heard in a while. And now it’s great to see you.”

  “Yes,” Emily said, “We need to catch up, and dinner is almost ready.”

  After lighthearted dinner conversation, where Nichol and Michael entertained and the adults reminisced, the three friends enjoyed a glass of wine back on the porch. “Your home is beautiful. How do you like living in Iowa?”

  “Better than we expected,” Emily said. “It’s not as exciting as living in California, and I’m okay with that. It actually reminds me a lot of Indiana.”

  Harry nodded. “I remember Claire saying the same thing.”

  “I get the feeling you wanted to tell us something, Harry? I mean, who just comes to Iowa?” John asked.

  Harry leaned forward in his chair. “I actually have a lot I want to say, but I’m thinking I should just leave instead.”

  Emily’s questioning expression met John’s, before she asked, “Is it something about Amber?”

  Harry inhaled. “Please, listen to everything before you comment. Let me explain it all.”

  John reached for Emily’s hand. “We’re listening,” he said.

  “I’m moving to North Carolina. I’ll go back to California for Amber’s trial, but like I said, I’ve been doing some re-evaluation of things. I-I, damn, this is harder than I thought.”

  Emily’s voice softened. “Harry, I have no idea what you’re going to say, but it’s all right. We’re your friends. You’ve been great to us and to Claire. You can tell us anything.”

  “See, that’s the thing. I haven’t been. Not really. Not to Claire and not to you. I haven’t been honest. It wasn’t that I wanted to be dishonest. It’s that it was my job. And I say was because I’ve quit my job. They call it retiring, but I’m not exactly of retirement age.”

  “You quit your job with the CBI?” John asked.

  “No,” Harry went on, “with the FBI. I’ve been an agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation for almost ten years.”

  “My grandfather was with the FBI,” Emily said. Her brows knit together. “He did undercover work. Is that what you’ve been doing? Oh, my God, is your name really Harry? Is Amber really your sister?”

  “My name is Harrison Baldwin and Amber is my half-sister; we share a mother. This was a very unusual case.”

  John’s voice deepened. “What was an unusual case? Amber?”

  Harry shook his head, “Amber was a byproduct. My assignment was Claire.”

  Emily gasped.

  “Please, let me continue. I’m telling you all of this because we have become friends. I value your friendship and I wanted to apologize.”

  “For lying?” Emily asked.

  “I was doing my job. I wasn’t lying, but I feel responsible for Chester’s attack on Claire. I was the one who took her to him. It was a lead I wanted to follow, and I thought if she were with me… I shouldn’t have done it. I had no idea I was putting her in danger.”

  “He attacked her because of him, not you,” Emily refuted.

  “Chester would never have known about Claire if it weren’t for me. There’s more. I saw Claire in Europe before she and Rawlings went into hiding. I talked with her. She knows that I’m an agent, and she told me in no uncertain terms to leave.” He grinned. “I wish she’d tell me off like that again.” He refocused. “She was right, and she was determined about her decision to reunite with him. I know you have reasons to hate him, but I wanted you to know that her decision to remarry him was not coerced.”

  Before either of the Vandersols could respond, Harry went on. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone any of this, but since Claire can’t, I thought you needed to know. They were both in contact with the bureau while they were away. It was a strange kind of limbo—more like a self-induced/bureau-accepted witness-protection situation. The bureau was investigating the deaths of many people, including one of our own—your grandfather—associated with the unusual poison actaea pachypoda. The connection that the bureau found was Anthony Rawlings. I was assigned to learn Claire’s secrets in an effort to confirm Rawlings’ connection. As you know, it wasn’t him, but Ms. London. While the case was being investigated, Rawlings negotiated a one-year reprieve with Claire and Nichol in the South Pacific.”

  “A year? They weren’t gone a year,” John said.

  “No,” Harry agreed. “They came back early, against the wishes of the bureau.”

  “But why? Why did they do that? If they had clearance to stay safe—”

  “Rawlings had some contact—he would never say who, although we have our suspicions. Anyway, his contact informed him of your visit to the estate.”

  Emily inhaled as her eyes widened. “They left that island because of us?”

  “According to Rawlings’ statement, they were concerned about your safety. When it’d been confirmed that you were traveling here to Iowa, they traveled home. Rawlings hoped to get to Ms. London before you arrived.”

  John looked at his wife. “Remember, we got an earlier flight.”

  “Oh, I can’t believe how this really fits,” Emily said.

  “This is all classified, or most of it. Even leaving the bureau doesn’t allow me to share this information, but I keep thinking about Claire. I really did care for her. I can’t say we were madly in love, but we did become good friends.” His eyes twinkled with memories. “The research I saw about TBI was what you said earlier, if recovery doesn’t happen in the first year… Well, if she can never tell you the truth, I still thought you de
served to know.”

  John nodded as his mind swirled with new and old information. He and Emily weren’t supposed to arrive to the Rawlings estate until later. If only…

  He tried to refocus on Harry. As much as he wanted to be upset, the emotion that seemed paramount was gratitude.

  “Thank you, thanks for telling us the truth. We won’t share it, if that’s what you want,” John said.

  “As long as you don’t do a press release,” Harry said with a grin, “I see no harm in letting you know.”

  John smiled. “We’re not much into sharing with the media.” Changing the subject, he asked, “Why North Carolina? What are you going to do there?”

  “I’m thinking about starting my own investigative firm. Law enforcement has always been my dream. Entering the FBI was the ultimate fulfillment, but lately I’ve realized that the adrenaline rush I used to get from the dangers has been replaced. You see, I was married a long time ago. She’s remarried, but I’ve been talking with her. We have a daughter who’s almost seven. I’ve missed so much of my child’s life.” His eyes brimmed with moisture. “I don’t want to miss any more. That rush now comes when I think about moving closer and getting to know my daughter. Thankfully, my ex-wife is willing to re-introduce us. Hopefully, Jillian will allow me to be part of her life.”

  “That’s a beautiful name,” Emily said.

  The tips of Harry’s lips turned upward. “It’s silly, but my name begins with an H, my ex-wife’s with an I, we used to joke about continuing the alphabet. Ilona and I were already separated when she gave birth, but I was thrilled when I heard her name.”

  “What about Liz?” Emily asked.

  “We’re taking it slowly. She’s pretty devastated about Amber, but she’s willing to move to North Carolina with me. They’ve asked her to stay at SiJo and help the new CEO: she’s joining me after I get settled, maybe after the trial. I’m not sure what happened with the company. I was afraid that it would be gobbled up in some frenzy after everything went public. Liz said there was some talk of that, but then everything quieted. The board of directors have asked Simon’s mother to take a role, at least temporarily. I think it’s more as a figurehead, but it was a nice gesture. The new CEO is someone with a lot of experience. For Simon’s sake, I hope they can keep it going.”

  John did know background on that, and though he appreciated Harry’s candor, he couldn’t reciprocate. It was Rawlings Industries, more specifically Roger Cunningham from Shedis-tics, who got the ball rolling on securing SiJo’s future. It was done as discreetly as possible. Apparently, Anthony didn’t want it to appear that Shedis-tics was priming the pump for a takeover. The instructions were painfully clear: it was strictly a rescue mission. SiJo would remain an independent company.

  “We’ll see what the future holds. Liz isn’t sure how she feels about a seven-year-old daughter, and I get it. I’m hoping that once she gets to know Ilona and her husband, she’ll feel more secure. I think she’s worried about my being around my ex, but there’s nothing to fear. We were kids when we married. I want a relationship with Jillian, and even though I’ll be in North Carolina and Liz will be in California for right now, we hope to make it work. Our plan is to be together in North Carolina eventually. I’m thankful that Liz is supporting me.”

  John listened as Emily asked more questions and Harry willingly answered. It was so much to process, too many pieces of the puzzle that seemed to forever remain unfinished. Despite the deception, there was something pure and sad in the man before them. He’d followed his dream career and figured out that nothing compared to his family. Harry talked about the sense of loss with Amber. Even his mother was upset that he didn’t use his role with the FBI to help his sister. He felt completely disconnected, until Ilona reached out to him. Through their conversations, Harry realized that Jillian was his family—his anchor. He wasn’t alone. He had roots, if only he was willing to step up and accept them. He’d chosen the FBI over his family once. He wouldn’t do that again.

  There was more than that in Harry’s visit. There was the information about Rawlings. John couldn’t comprehend that Anthony and Claire had given up their security for him and Emily. Then again, he and Emily had given up their life in California for Claire and Nichol. Harry was giving up his dream career for Jillian.

  Maybe it wasn’t what you give up—maybe it was what you receive.

  Miracles come in moments. Be ready and willing.

  —Wayne Dyer

  “What did they say?” Emily asked for the tenth time.

  “I’ve told you. They just said that there’d been a development with Claire and we needed to get to Everwood as soon as possible.”

  John watched the passing landmarks as he drove toward Cedar Rapids. To his right, Emily fidgeted with her fingernails as she rested her elbow against the lower edge of the window. No doubt, the early morning traffic was heavier than what she usually experienced on her later drives.

  “Did they say what development?”

  “Em, I’ve told you the entire conversation, verbatim.”

  “Why didn’t you ask? What if something bad happened? We’re supposed to have that meeting this morning, at 8:30 AM, with that aide who’s been working so well with Claire. Do you think Claire took a turn for the worse? I mean, why wouldn’t they just wait and tell us when we got there? It has to be bad. Otherwise, they would’ve just waited.”

  John reached over and touched Emily’s arm. “Stop. Stop trying to second-guess. I’m nervous too, but it doesn’t do any good to overanalyze. We don’t have enough information—yet.”

  “I bet it has something to do with Dr. Fairfield’s treatment. So help me… if it did something. Oh, John, you didn’t see how distraught she’s been. She paces. She’s uncooperative. That’s not my sister. I mean, she’s made bad decisions and done things that I don’t agree with, but she’s always been cooperative. Even in that damn book, she talked about how cooperative she was. I never should have allowed him to change her medications and treatment regimen. If something bad happened, it’s my fault.”

  “Dr. Fairfield explained that those were good signs, that it showed she was becoming more aware of the world around her, instead of living in some make-believe fantasy.”

  Emily huffed. “I don’t care what he said. What if she got upset and they had to do something to her… Oh, I hated getting those reports when she needed to be restrained. If they’d just talk to her… that calms her down. She’s what… a hundred and ten pounds. It’s not like she’s dangerous. I don’t understand. So help me… if they had to restrain her again after how well she was doing, I promise I’ll have some heads on a platter, and the first one will be Dr. Fairfield’s.”

  John pulled into the gate and down the long tree-lined drive. Truly, the grounds of Everwood were beautiful. He remembered how, even as a child, Claire enjoyed the outdoors. When she was young, her dad used to take her camping. John believed it was good that part of Claire’s daily routine was going outside.

  The change in plans both worried and disappointed John. He’d been looking forward to speaking with Claire’s aide, Ms. Russel. Her reports were the most encouraging news they’d received on Claire since her ordeal began. At first, they seemed too good to be true, but her supervisor, Mrs. Bali, confirmed them. The Vandersols had tried to meet with Ms. Russel on other occasions, but each time something caused her to cancel. When Emily’s phone rang this morning, while she was in the shower, John half expected it to be Everwood, canceling yet again. He should have asked more questions, but the call was brief and his initial reaction was relief that the meeting wasn’t cancelled. At least, he didn’t think it was cancelled. Hopefully, after they worked out this development, the meeting could occur.

  Dr. Fairfield’s assistant was waiting for them within the doors of the main facility. John couldn’t decide if her bright smile was sincere or if she was trying to hide something. It looked, different.

  “Good morning Valerie. What’s happening with my si
ster?” Emily asked, impatiently.

  “Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Vandersol. Your sister is fine. Please, come with me.”

  When Valerie led them to the elevator and pushed the button for the office floor, Emily questioned, “Why are we going to the offices? After your call this morning, I want to see Claire. I need to be sure that she’s all right.” John wrapped his arm reassuringly around Emily’s waist.

  “Mrs. Vandersol, we’re going to your sister.”

  “Why isn’t she in her room?” Emily looked at her watch. “It’s still early. She should be in her room, and someone should be there helping her—”

  The elevator doors opened and Valerie stepped into the hallway. Emily glared up at John. With her lips pressed together, John knew she was refraining from commenting about Valerie’s departure during Emily’s speech. Inhaling deeply, she followed, as did John.

  “Let me show you, before you go in,” Valerie said, as she opened a door with a plate beside the frame that read Observation.

  “Show us?” Emily asked.

  “There’s no sound, but you can see.” She flipped a switch and a large mirrored surface became a window. In the next room, they could see Claire sitting in a chair with Dr. Brown facing her and Dr. Fairfield standing near. Dr. Brown’s lips moved and then so would Claire’s!

  Emily covered her mouth as large tears flowed down her cheeks. “Oh, my God! Is she talking?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Vandersol, she is.”

  Had it not been for John’s steady footing, Emily would have knocked them both to floor as she fell into his chest. Valerie flipped another switch that must have signaled Dr. Fairfield. He looked up and said something to Dr. Brown, who nodded. Within seconds, Dr. Fairfield was opening the door to their room. His normally stoic expression was replaced by the largest smile John had ever seen on the good doctor’s face.