Of course, as is always true, things change. Claire was no longer alone. It took some time for her husband to make his way to their paradise. Too many disappearances at once would add to the speculations of critics. Since his arrival, Madeline and Francis stepped back, some. Claire refused to allow them to be lost to archaic protocol. They may be her employees, but they were also her friends. With Claire’s insistence, all four of them sit together for midday meal. Although breakfast remained a relaxed time for Claire, it was usually a rush for Francis and Madeline; they had things to do. Claire’s husband’s schedule varied, sometimes he joined her for coffee and breakfast, and sometimes he went out and about. He liked exploring the area, reading the internet news, or taking the boat to the local village center. Evening meals were reserved for the two of them. After all, they were officially newlyweds and as such, needed time alone.
“No, Madame el, you must eat. I’ll bring you muffins and fresh fruit.”
Claire shook her head as arguing would be pointless.
At the early hour, the lush vegetation entwined above the lanai shaded the lounge chairs near the pool. Claire settled into the cushioned seat, elevated her feet, turned on her iPad, and waited for the daily news to load. She may be thousands and thousands of miles away, but technology made the world a smaller place. Events across the globe would soon be as visible, as if she were on the same continent.
It wasn’t the first story to appear on her homepage, but her own picture immediately caught Claire’s attention. She clicked and read the title:
Family Files Charges against Iowa City Police Department, Prosecutor, and Anthony Rawlings.
Shaking her head, Claire read:
Associated Press- John and Emily Vandersol have filed formal charges against the Iowa City Police Department, Marcus Evergreen, I.C. Prosecutor, and Anthony Rawlings (in absentia).
Mr. and Mrs. Vandersol have requested a hearing based on evidence discovered at the home of Anthony Rawlings. The request states the evidence, currently undisclosed, is sufficient to establish probable cause against Anthony Rawlings. The Vandersols also charge Mr. Rawlings with extortion. “Anyone else would be sitting in jail. It’s only because of his wealth and influence that ICPD and Mr. Evergreen have not filed charges. Their delay is corruption.” (Another of the many charges listed). The Vandersols claim the prosecutor and police department worked together to protect Anthony Rawlings. In doing so, the ICPD jeopardized the investigation of Ms. Claire Nichols’ disappearance. Mrs. Vandersol also charged Mr. Rawlings (in absentia) with the disappearance and possible death of her unborn niece or nephew.
Claire’s hand rubbed her very large mid-section. Now in her thirty-fifth week, she smiled knowing no harm had come to her unborn child. She honestly didn’t believe that would be the case if she’d remained at Catherine’s disposal. She continued reading:
Ms. Nichols was last seen September 4, 2013. Mr. Anthony Rawlings disappeared after his private plane made an emergency landing in the Appalachian Mountains, September 21, 2013. The FBI will not confirm or deny the survival of Mr. Rawlings following this incident. The FBI refused additional comments claiming an ongoing investigation. Currently, no charges have been filed.
Rawlings Industries is currently operating with a temporary CEO and the same Board of Directors. It has been speculated that the pending charges will force the SEC to investigate Rawlings Industries. Since September the share price has dropped from $142.37 to $86.84 at last call.
Despite her reading material, when Claire realized she’d eaten all of Madeline’s food, a smile appeared on her face.
Madeline’s voice came above the sound of surf, “Madame el, may I get you more tea or perhaps some water?”
“Madeline, I’d love some water. It’s getting hotter by the minute.”
“Then perhaps you should be in the water?” The rich, husky voice came from behind. She couldn’t see the handsome source, yet instantaneously her neck tensed and goose bumps appeared on her arms and legs. It amazed Claire how something as benign as a voice could continue to incite such a visceral response.
Madeline saw Claire’s reaction and laughed. Francis and Madeline wanted Claire to be happy. It didn’t take them long to realize this man was exactly what their employer needed. Madeline’s laugh made Claire giggle.
Claire loved Madeline’s laugh, so deep and rich, just like her voice. “Madame el, I will bring you some water, and Monsieur?”
“I would like some coffee please, Madeline?” He bowed toward the woman.
She laughed at his gesture. “Why, of course. I’ll bring it out soon.” With that, she disappeared, leaving the lady and gentleman of the house alone.
Her husband reached for Claire’s shoulder and gently massaged. While the sound of his voice instigated chills, the touch of his hand sent her body into mayhem. It hadn’t changed; she hoped it never would.
Catherine sat at Tony’s grand desk. It wasn’t like he’d be sitting there anytime soon. Thanks to his kind provisions in his absence, Catherine Marie London was listed as executor of Anthony Rawlings’ estate and anything related to it. The title came with a nice trust fund. That money plus the large sum she’d accumulated over the years left her more than financially solvent.
It took almost twenty-five years, but Marie had finally fulfilled Nathaniel’s desire. She was finally the lady of the manor. Maybe her name wasn’t Rawls, but that didn’t matter. Nathaniel told her many times how he wanted her to live, and it wasn’t as Anton’s housekeeper. Catherine Marie leaned back against the plush leather and scanned the grand office. There was no doubt; the room was much more regal from this perspective.
Catherine opened the drawer on the lower right to inspect Anton’s private files. She fingered the tabs… in this paperless world it surprised her he’d kept these printed documents. Thankfully, the ICPD hadn’t felt the need to confiscate them as evidence.
She eyed the scribed names. There were so many. How could she figure out which one was her daughter? Catherine saw her own name. Maybe there was a clue in there. When she opened the file, she feared her heart would stop pumping. The writing wasn’t Anton’s. Catherine knew his writing well enough to duplicate it easily. This writing was Nathaniel’s.
Scribbled in the margin of a contract was the name Sophia Rossi. Catherine went through the drawer again. The only Sophia was Sophia Burke. Suddenly, she no longer remembered her husband’s love, she remembered his vendetta. Burke? Burke? There was no way her daughter could be connected to Jonathon Burke.
Catherine removed the Sophia Burke file and opened the folder. Above the typed name Sophia Rossi, was the scribbled name Sophia Rossi Burke… Catherine searched the pages. There was a plethora of outdated information. Nonetheless, written above the text on the second page was a telephone number. Catherine couldn’t resist. She used the blocked house phone.
Derek answered his wife’s cell phone. The past few weeks were too much. She wasn’t up for solicitors or blocked numbers. “Hello?”
Catherine hesitated, questioning the correctness of the number. She expected a woman’s voice. “I’m sorry, I’m looking for the beautiful baby girl I was forced to give away thirty-three years ago.”
Derek listened. Sophia had said she didn’t want to know her birth parents. Nevertheless, this may be their only chance to learn the truth. “I’m sorry; my wife is indisposed right now. She’s had a difficult few weeks.”
“Yes, that’s the reason I’m calling. I never wanted to interfere with her and her adoptive parents. But now…” Catherine wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. Now she was lonely and wanted to at least meet her daughter? Now she thought her daughter might be more open to learning about her birth mother? Now she had nothing better to do…
Thankfully, she didn’t need to finish the sentence. The man interjected, “Tell me the date you gave birth.”
Catherine sat taller. Who was this man demanding information? She sure as hell wasn’t intimidated. She’d loved Nathaniel
Rawls and outlasted Anton Rawls… this man was nothing in comparison. However, she answered, “July 19, 1980.”
Catherine heard muffled voices; then a woman’s voice, “Please, don’t call again. My parents are dead. I don’t know you.”
Marie sat straighter. Of course she deserved this response. Nonetheless, part of reasoned maybe she could fill a void left by the death of her daughter’s adoptive parents. If nothing else, she could look out for the young woman from afar, as Anton and Nathaniel had done. “I’m sorry, I won’t call you again.”
Resolutely, the young woman swallowed her emotions, and continued, “Wait, if you could give me your number, I’ll think about it. Then, when I’m ready I can call you.”
Catherine breathed a sigh of relief… this was more than she’d expected. “Yes, of course.”
A man’s voice came back through the receiver, “You may give me the number. When my wife is ready, if she is ready, she will call you. Please do not call her phone again.”
Catherine heard her daughter’s sobs in the background and gave the number of a disposable phone to her son-in-law. After he repeated the number, he disconnected the line.
Catherine grinned. She’d found her daughter. Her daughter was married—to a man named Burke. She needed more information. That was all right, as before, she had the time, and without a doubt, Catherine was up for a new challenge.
Volume Three
Convicted
Book #3 of the bestselling Consequences series
By:
ALEATHA ROMIG
Convicted
You must stick to your conviction, but be ready to abandon your assumptions.
—Denis Waitley
Copyright And License Information
Copyright © 2013 Aleatha Romig
Published by Romig Works
2013 Edition
Edited by Lucy D’Andrea, Sherry Weir, and re-edited by Lisa Aurello
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is available in print from most on line retailers.
2013 Edition License
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the appropriate retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to everyone who has made my story and Tony and Claire real!
I couldn’t continue to spend untold hours sitting at my computer and interacting with readers if it weren’t for the love, devotion, AND patience of my husband and children. Thank you!
Thank you to my fantastic group of betas, affectionately known as Aleatha’s Angels! Your direction and honesty has helped to create CONVICTED! I couldn’t, and wouldn’t want to, do it without you! Thank you, Sherry, Val, Angie, Kelli, Heather, and our newest angel Kirsten! Believe me. From time to time, it takes angels to put up with me!
A special thank you to Ilona, a wonderful reader who won a contest and was allowed to name one of the characters in CONVICTED. Thank you Ilona, I hope you enjoy your character!
To my agent, Danielle Egan-Miller thank you! I continue to learn from your wisdom every day!
I absolutely love creating and continuing this saga, but it has been the outpouring of encouragement and support that I’ve received from the best readers in the world that made this a wonderful journey. I can’t thank you all enough for the continued love which you have shown to me! Whether it is in person, at an author event or online, I hope you know how much your kind words have meant! Thank you!!
Be brave… and learn how with the TRUTH there are CONSEQUENCES… CONVICTED!
Disclaimer
This is the third book in the CONSEQUENCES Series. It’s recommended to read them in order. The CONSEQUENCES series contains adult dark content. Although excessive use of description and detail are not used, the content contains innuendos of kidnapping, rape, and abuse—physical and mental. If you’re unable to read this material, please do not purchase. If can enter this world of fiction, welcome aboard and enjoy the ride!
Chapter One
The evil you create will ultimately destroy, you cannot escape the consequences of your actions.
—Leon Brown
The woman stood silently, concealed within the shadows of the tall trees. With the Iowa wind rustling leaves above her head, she watched in fascination as children ran around the well-kept playground. Although many youngsters vied for position on the ladders and ramps, her attention centered on the beautiful, dark-haired little girl and blonde-headed little boy playing in the sandbox. She’d seen the children on numerous occasions, always from a distance. She knew the little girl was almost two and a half years old and the little boy was almost two years old. Steeling her shoulders, she decided today was the day she’d finally voice her appeal, face the barrier to her goal, and make her request known.
The children wouldn’t know who she was or why she was there. There was no doubt, the woman with the eagle eyes of a mother and aunt, the woman watching the children’s every move, wouldn’t only know her, she wouldn’t hesitate to send her away or call the authorities.
Inhaling deeply, New York Times bestselling author Meredith Banks stepped from the shadows into the sunlight. As the proximity of her goal increased, so did her anxiety. This wouldn’t be easy. Emily Vandersol had made it crystal clear that she didn’t want the children exposed to the media circus. That circus had already exposed too many family secrets—secrets which, for their sake, would’ve been better left hidden.
As Meredith neared the park bench, Emily’s ever-present scan of the crowd zeroed in on her, and their eyes met. Before Emily could protest, Meredith rushed to the park bench and touched Emily’s sleeve. “Emily, please let me speak. Please… let me finish their story.”
Momentarily looking away from the children, Emily stared toward Meredith, her green eyes burned with emotion. Her back straightened as her hushed words overflowed with intended harshness. “You’re not allowed to be this close to me or to her. I have a restraining order against all members of the press.”
“I know, but I’m not just the press. I’m Claire’s friend. I was.” Meredith added thoughtfully. “Please, I want the world to know the rest of their story.”
Emily leaned closer as her perturbed tone hardened. “Don’t you think you’ve told enough? One day, I’m going to have to explain your book to her. Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage? Or maybe it’s just the money you want. I’m sure revealing more private information will sell more books.”
Meredith didn’t like Emily’s tone. Although she knew she deserved it, she wouldn’t let it stop her quest. After all, engaging Claire’s sister in any conversation was more than she’d accomplished in the past. “I hope you know this isn’t about selling books. Claire approached me with her story. We had an agreement, and I followed through. I’m not denying that her story’s made me a fortune. What do you want me to say? I’ll donate all proceeds from the rest of their story to Nichol? I’d gladly do that, but we both know she isn’t lacking for money.”
Emily looked up as the dark-haired little girl came running toward them. Undaunted by the visitor, Nichol spoke loud and clear, “Momma.” Shaking her little head, she corrected, “I mean, Aunt Em, Mikey’s not sharing. I want my…”
; Meredith stared, mesmerized by the young girl’s features. Her long, dark hair was pulled into two pigtails which swung side to side as she ran. Her light complexion emphasized her pink sun-kissed cheeks, and her deep brown eyes shimmered in the sunlight. Meredith recognized the intensity of the young girl’s stare, the perfect combination of her parents; however, the determination and diction in the small voice unquestionably came from her father.
This was the closest Meredith had been to Anthony and Claire’s child. With all of her heart, Meredith wanted to pull the little girl into her arms and hug her tight—anything to help make Claire’s daughter’s world a better place.
While Emily rectified the situation between the children, Meredith pondered the events that brought them all here today—the events that changed Nichol’s life forever. Meredith remembered the Claire Nichols of the past, the carefree young woman who skipped class at Valparaiso to spend the day at Wrigley Field. She recalled the woman who recounted horrific details of a life she never wanted or deserved, and she recollected the last time they met—almost three years ago.
Claire had arranged their meeting. She wanted to discuss Meredith’s first book My Life as It Didn’t Appear. Claire desired to stop the publication.
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