In 2012, he saw fear as Claire looked nervously all about her. On the video recorded only days earlier, Tony wondered what he saw. No, he knew her look; it was a mask of steely determination. What he didn’t know was the emotion hidden underneath.
The police also saw the 2013 video. They believed it proved she left of her own free will—if that were true, wouldn’t she have taken more belongings? Wouldn’t she have taken more money? She had access. She had credit cards and an ATM card, yet they were all found in an Illinois hotel.
At nearly 2:00 AM, Tony was all alone. The various screens displaying the estate were devoid of people. Everyone was fast asleep. Even the crickets outside his open windows knew to leave him in silence, yet with no one to hear, he spoke the question he’d been wrestling with for days, “Why, Claire? Why?” In one gulp, he downed the amber liquid from the crystal tumbler. Though the rich Glen Garioch Whiskey went down smoothly, it didn’t ease the ache in his head or the pain in his chest.
His facade of the last few days successfully drained his strength. Tony knew he needed sleep, but how could he sleep in their bed? He couldn’t even stand to enter their room or see the unfinished nursery. It was the not knowing that hurt the most. If he knew she was safe… If he knew she did this of her own free will… but he didn’t know. Last time, in 2012, he knew, and without a doubt, the pain he’d put her through back then added to his current torment.
In the past few days, he’d spent untold amounts of money, had private and public agencies search every inch of Iowa, the surrounding states, country—damn, the world. There were plenty of tips. A large reward will bring those, yet nothing had paid off.
How could Claire evaporate into thin air?
The BMW she’d driven, was thoroughly searched by Iowa’s top CSI. Only her finger prints, Clay’s, Eric’s, and his were discovered… but no unknown clues.
During the last three days, Tony had hardly left the confines of his home office. Entering the attached bath, he barely recognized his own reflection. Never had his facial hair been so long. Rubbing his hands through the now soft stubble, he stared into his own eyes. For the first time in his life, he’d dared to believe in happily ever after. He learned at a young age that it was unattainable; therefore, he’d never even tried… until Claire. Somehow, for a few short months, it was at his fingertips. The wealth, homes, and appearance of stability and sanity… all meant nothing when he saw the pictures of Claire with Harry. Tony couldn’t be at that damn gala and know she was there with him. Hell, Tony didn’t even know about their baby. He just knew, for the first time in his life, Anthony Rawlings was willing to risk public scrutiny to have what he wanted most. What mattered to him above anything else… the problem was making her realize it.
Tony turned off the screens of his computer and lay on the soft leather sofa. His mind went back to 2011. On this very couch… on this luxurious carpet… he smiled… on his desk… there was hardly a place they hadn’t been together. Damn, they’d been great. Despite the happy memories, the twisting in his heart tightened. The things he’d done to her. The regret was almost paralyzing.
Then somehow in this totally screwed up world, when all was said and done, she’d taken him back.
The pounding in his head brought moisture to his eyes. His words were barely audible. That was all right; they weren’t intended for anyone except the woman who wasn’t there. “I’m so sorry… for everything. Why? Why did you leave me?”
As the tears coated his cheeks, he told himself, Anthony Rawlings doesn’t cry. He doesn’t apologize, and he doesn’t cry…
Once settled in Florence, Isabelle utilized an Internet Café to surf the web and learn the latest news happening back in Iowa. The face of Claire Nichols appeared in multiple thumbnails. She scrolled over the pictures, which looked nothing like the blue-eyed woman with short dark hair staring at the monitor.
Different titles appeared:
Missing—Day Three, Reward Offered, Ex-Husband “Person of Interest”, and Vanished—Memoirs left behind.
Claire read each article, scrutinizing every detail. The first article spoke analytically about Claire’s disappearance. It described the incident where her car was attacked by another car, how that evening she went for a drive and never returned. The article highlighted photos of her and Tony at recent events. It even showed a recent photo of them out to eat. Claire tried to see the restaurant. She was pretty sure it was in Chicago, and on her left hand, she could see her engagement ring.
The next article said:
Anthony Rawlings believes his ex-wife was coerced off his estate and kidnapped. He states the incident in California as evidence of a probable attack. To this end, he is currently offering a reward of 100 thousand dollars for information leading to the safe return of his ex-wife. The Iowa City Police Department hired additional personnel to help with the onslaught of calls and emails. Mr. Rawlings offered to reimburse ICPD for the extra expense.
The “Person of Interest” story claimed:
John and Emily Vandersol, Claire Nichols only family, made allegations suggesting Anthony Rawlings look no farther than the mirror. They allege the wealthy tycoon is responsible for the disappearance of Claire Nichols, claiming he’s done it before (see story related to memoirs). The office of Mr. Marcus Evergreen, Johnson County Prosecutor, Iowa City, Iowa stated formal charges against Mr. Rawlings are under consideration.
Mr. Rawlings’ attorneys are working overtime. While defending his innocence, they are also battling Parrott Press. The publishing company is seeking to publish Ms. Nichols memoirs immediately. A written agreement between the author, Ms. Nichols, and Mr. Rawlings states said manuscript may only be published in the event of possible harm to Ms. Nichols. Parrott Press believes her disappearance fits this description. Advanced orders of: My Life as It Didn’t Appear—Unofficial biography of Claire Rawlings Nichols have exceeded one million.
Isabelle read in disbelief. If Tony were in Europe when she left, how could anyone suspect him? She never meant to implicate him. That’s why Catherine recommended Claire leave immediately so that she would disappear while he was out of town, and what about Meredith’s book? Catherine said Tony’s lawyers would stop it. What if they didn’t? Claire hated herself for going through with those interviews. She didn’t want their history published. Someday their child would see it! Lastly, John and Emily’s actions infuriated Claire. If only she could call them, but she knew it wasn’t an option.
For the last two days, Isabelle reviewed Catherine’s specific instructions regarding the hidden fortune. She also practiced her Italian and used it whenever possible. According to Catherine, Nathaniel’s money was hidden at an institution in Geneva, Switzerland. She said Tony had accessed the money for different things throughout the years. Nevertheless, Catherine believed it had accrued nicely since Nathaniel’s death. According to the documents, there was a safety deposit box within the institution, which could only be accessed by two people: Anton or Marie Rawls. Catherine provided Claire with Marie’s information, and Phil supplied her with identification under the same alias. Sometime during their fateful late night talk, Claire asked Catherine, “Were you still with the Rawls when Nathaniel remarried.”
“I was.”
So many questions came to Claire’s mind: Nathaniel’s second wife was the woman Tony protected, the woman Patrick Chester thought was Samuel’s sister. She was the woman who killed Samuel and Amanda, but that was a long time ago. And Tony said the woman was still alive. Claire asked, “Was she younger than Nathaniel?”
“Yes,” Catherine answered and then asked, “You are younger than Anton. Do you think that’s wrong?”
“No, I’m just trying to figure things out.” Claire wanted to ask more; however, she needed to concentrate first and foremost on her escape. Besides, Claire had the feeling her questions made Catherine uncomfortable.
As Catherine described the financial institution in Geneva, Claire remembered the place. Near the end of her European journe
y, so long ago with Tony, she’d met him at the same institution before they went for lunch. Claire remembered being early and waiting patiently for him to emerge from behind the gated area. This time, she’d be the one behind the gates.
Catherine provided Claire with the number of the safety deposit box, as well as a copy of the required key. Both were necessary to access the safety deposit box. The moment Claire saw the key Catherine placed in a small envelope, she recognized it. It was the odd shaped key Tony used to roll from finger to finger when agitated. Years ago, Claire hated that key. Its presence meant her day had just taken a turn for the worse. Now, its replica would unlock her and her baby’s future.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many. The intelligence of a few, perceives what has been carefully hidden.
—Roman poet Phaedrus
Derek held his wife’s hand, admiring her strength. Bravely, she faced mourner after mourner, as each offered their condolences. No one mentioned Carlo’s recent mental state. It wasn’t as if everyone didn’t know. The unsaid tragedy was that he’d taken Silvia with him. They all pitied Sophia, losing both parents at once.
When Derek arrived in New Jersey from Taiwan, Sophia had already faced too many things alone. She’d visited the morgue. Fortunately, the coroner hadn’t allowed her to view her parents’ remains. After striking the tree, their Camry burst into flames. She did identify some of their possessions. Her parent’s wedding rings, though charred, survived the inferno. Sophia recognized them immediately.
Although she grieved their loss, Sophia reasoned it was better for them to be together. She couldn’t imagine consoling her mother if her father died alone. Derek embraced his wife as she rationalized the tragedy. It was late one night, while holding her trembling body, she uttered the words he never expected to hear. Though muffled by tears, her resolve was steadfast, “I’ve lost my only parents… I never want to go through this again.”
He understood what she was saying. She didn’t want to find her birth parents. He whispered, “Anyone can give birth… a parent is the person who loves you every day without condition.”
Sophia nodded into his chest. “Mine were the best. Please don’t let me forget that… if I ever change my mind… please remind me.”
He hugged her tight and promised.
Other than the meal she’d shared with Tony at the French restaurant in Palo Alto, Claire hadn’t had the opportunity to practice her newly acquired languages. Nonetheless, as she traveled through Italy and Switzerland, her Italian came back with a little more than a hint of an American accent. That didn’t seem to matter. She spoke well enough to gain access to the locked vault in Geneva.
Appearing with short, dark hair and gray eyes to match the ID with the name C. Marie Rawls, Marie entered the vault with a bank official. Her hands trembled as they approached the safety deposit box once opened by Nathaniel. According to the ledgers, it was regularly accessed by Anton Rawls, usually twice a year. Claire signed the same ledger: Marie Rawls and presented her identification. The officer never flinched. He asked, “Seniora Rawls, la sua chiave?” (Ms. Rawls, do you have the key?)
“Si, signore, grazie.” (Yes, sir, thank you.) She prayed the financial executive couldn’t hear the pounding of her heart or sense her wet palms. She placed the small replicated key in his outstretched palm. Marie smiled when he gently closed his fingers around her petite hand. The man was less concerned with her identity and more interested in her proximity. She responded boldly, “Signore, ti ringrazio per il vostro aiuto.” (Sir, I appreciate your assistance here.)
“Forse più tardi?” (Maybe later?)
“Prima la mia missione.” (First, my mission.)
He released her hand with a friendly, “Si, naturalmente.” (Yes, naturally.)
With his invitation momentarily dismissed, the officer inserted a key from his large ring. Next, he took Marie’s key. When he fumbled momentarily, her breathing stopped, and her heart forgot to beat. Then, all at once, the metal key breached the archaic lock. The tumblers turned; he slid the long box from its home. Remembering to exhale, Marie worked diligently to maintain her stoic expression as she followed him to a private room.
Once alone, Claire opened the lid and gasped. She’d come this far, she’d given up her life, listened to Catherine’s advice… all for a virtually empty box; however, virtually was not entirely. Slowly, Claire removed the documents. In the next forty-five minutes, she read all the information.
Nathaniel planned everything to a T. His original intention was for Marie or Anton to tend to his fortune. He left specific instructions about maintaining an overseas cache. The money was to be constantly rotated, moved, and secured. All pertinent information regarding the accounts was to stay locked in this box. Only the person in possession of these documents could access the monies. Being as he didn’t know for sure which heir would maintain his secret, everything was accessible with a numeric code. No names were associated with the financial accounts. This layer of security also aided in concealing the true ownership. Tracing the money to a Rawls, or anyone in the United States, was virtually impossible. The Switzerland financial system specialized in maintaining hidden fortunes. Only in the case of broken laws would they share information with the United States government.
In the 1970’s, when Nathaniel created his hidden treasure, it probably seemed very James Bond. Claire wondered if Tony changed the rules or had gotten more high tech. She would need to find out. She’d gone too far to turn back.
Currently, there were seven different accounts. The last time funds were transferred was six months ago. It really was time for a transfer. She wondered why he hadn’t done it while recently overseas.
Claire wished for Phil’s assistance. He’d be joining her in another day; however, this was something she needed to do on her own. Feigning confidence, Marie Rawls took the documentation to the front of the institution and requested a representative.
Over the next ninety minutes, Marie watched and scrutinized computer screens. Her months of required attendance in Tony’s office paid off. She frowned at unsuccessful investments and discussed better reserves for better returns. If there ever was a time to wear a mask, this was it. As the afternoon progressed, she systematically moved and invested over 200 million dollars. The monies were once again dispersed throughout the world market with a portion liquid and accessible. The only difference was that now she was the only one holding a means to their access.
By the time she feigned reinserting the documentation into the box, a presumed action based upon prior transactions, she was ready to faint. Tony’s personal reserve was now hers. It wasn’t stolen out of spite. Her desire for vengeance was gone. Claire willingly admitted her feelings of hate were only a close cousin to the love she now felt, and she knew Tony loved her, but thankfully, Catherine helped her see the truth. No matter how much he loved her and their child, his need to fulfill his promise to Nathaniel would always prevail.
Claire couldn’t live with that. Besides, their child deserved to live like a Rawls. With a heavy heart, Claire justified she didn’t steal Tony’s money. She only reappropriated it, to his child.
With the papers in her purse, Marie Rawls, disappeared and Isabelle Alexander stepped onto the bustling Geneva sidewalk a multimillionaire. Faces didn’t register. While in the heart of Geneva’s financial district, Isabelle didn’t notice the magnificent blue waters ahead or the grand snow covered Alps around. As she walked from the bank to her hotel, not even the phenomenal shopping within the sleek cosmopolitan buildings beckoned her.
While the slender heels of her Luciano Padovan sling-back platform pumps clicked along the sidewalk toward Lake Geneva, Claire’s self-absorbed thoughts filled every fiber of her being.
How many times had she told Tony his money didn’t matter? How many times had she shunned the idea of wealth?
Nevertheless, she’d just done the unthinkable. If it weren’t for t
he uncomfortable gray contacts, she’d surrender to the tears threatening to flow. She fought the impulse. Isabelle Alexander needed to be strong, just as Marie Rawls had been moments earlier.
The documents inside her purse were the key to over 200 Million dollars. More than anything, she longed to throw them in the nearest gutter. The only thing stopping the growing compulsion was the child moving inside of her. Never in Claire’s entire life had she hated herself as much as she did at this moment. Thankfully, her love for her baby overpowered her self-loathing.
Claire’s common sense demanded she go directly to her hotel and secure the documents inside a locked safe. Nevertheless, she was tired of listening to her mind. She needed to know what was happening in the USA, in Iowa, and at Tony’s estate. She had so many questions, and over the past week, she’d formed many more:
First and foremost… who was the real Marie Rawls? Tony admitted to seeing her since she killed his parents. Catherine admitted to being with the Rawls family when Nathaniel married Marie. This woman existed. Why hadn’t she turned up in any of their research?
The vibrant sky and tall limestone buildings disappeared beyond the sea of sidewalk tables and happy tourists. Isabelle politely intermingled and scanned the landscape. Slipping into an internet café, she ordered a tall tea. No question, her Italian improved with each passing day. She settled into an available swivel chair next to a computer, logged onto the Wi-Fi, and transcended the ocean in search of information.
The Consequences Series Box Set Page 114