Seeing the mask and his devilish grin, Claire’s heart began to beat erratically. Yes, she put the mask on herself before she fell asleep; however, it was never something they’d done for fun. Her mind raced back to a room with a lock that beeped. There was a time long ago, in the beginning, when there were blindfolds and restraints, but she never considered any of that fun. “No,” her small hands pushed against his chest. “No!” She wasn’t seeing the man on top of her. She was seeing the man from those memories. “I don’t want to wear that. Please, please don’t make me.”
Perhaps he made a sound; Claire wasn’t sure. Something made her eyes open, and suddenly, she saw the man who was truly there. In his eyes she again saw pain. “Oh, Tony.” Her arms surrounded his neck. “I do trust you. I just don’t want to wear that.” Her heart broke as he nodded and rolled off of her, onto his pillow. Lifting her head to look at him, Claire started to apologize, but before she could speak, he placed his finger on her lips.
Never could she have predicted her ex-husband’s next move. Claire Nichols would never have imagined Anthony Rawlings placing such a high bet as to wager himself, yet that’s what he did. Lifting his head to gently kiss her lips, he whispered, “I trust you.” Then he covered his own eyes with her satin mask. As absurd as he looked with the black satin ruffles around the sides, she’d never been so honored. He was hers! That was what he’d tried to tell her on the beach. Yes, the whole idea of him watching her over the years was creepy, but that wasn’t what he’d tried to convey. Seeing him lay still with his eyes blinded to her every move, Claire understood. She had him, his heart, his soul, and his body. They were hers to do with what she wanted.
Easing herself to her knees, she allowed her lips to brush his neck. His growls encouraged and the stubbles abraded. Claire loved every sensation and every minute. Next, she moved to his chest where her hands caressed his muscles as her fingers wove through his chest hair. When she licked and sucked a nipple, his arms encircled her.
Within this new paradigm, Claire was empowered. Sitting up, she pushed his arms back to the mattress and said, “No.” His grin from below the satin melted her. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to do all the things she imagined; her body was on a precipice, and at any moment, she’d be lost in earthshaking bliss.
It wasn’t like anything they’d ever experienced, nor was it how Claire always wanted it to be; nevertheless, on this one night—it was perfect. After Claire’s world exploded and Tony’s did too, she collapsed against his chest and fought to breathe. Finally, she lifted her head and removed the satin blindfold. The spark within the chocolate bliss made her reconsider her desire for sleep.
Tony’s grin infiltrated his words, “Since you removed the blindfold, does that mean I can now hold you?”
“Oh yes, Mr. Rawlings, please do.”
Although nothing about their recent history seemed wrong, it didn’t take him long to right their world. Turning Claire, he gently laid her upon the bed and fanned her hair on her pillow. “Just so you know,” he whispered in a deep, raspy voice. “Your hair sweeping over my face and chest when I couldn’t see it was incredibly erotic.”
Claire giggled. “Well, that’s good to know. I’ll remember that for next time.”
His brow cocked upward. “Next time?”
She nodded.
Tony shrugged. “Well, my dear, they do say variety is the spice of life.”
Claire ran her finger over his pink lips. Before she could remove it, Tony sucked the tip into his mouth. Pressing her breasts upward, her eyes fluttered shut and she purred, “As long as that variety is with me, I think I might be willing.”
Nearing his lips to her ear, Tony whispered, “Only you. It’s only been you for a very long time.”
Before going to sleep, they decided to go for a late night swim. Although they wore robes to the pool, they didn’t bother with bathing suits. With the water near the same temperature as the humid air, the only difference was the degree of moisture as they became submerged. Tony disappeared under the water and swam the length of the infinity pool and back. Claire giggled as he came out of the water right in front of her. Taking her hands, he led her out to the deeper end. Holding his shoulders, she wrapped her legs around his torso and gazed up at the stars.
Tony kissed her neck. “What are you thinking about?”
Claire shrugged. “A lot of things: our baby, our friends, and my family.”
“It’s all right to miss them.”
“I’ve been away from them before, but this time, it’s different. This time, I feel like I’ve betrayed them. I’m the one who left without telling anyone.”
“What do you think would happen if they knew the truth?”
Claire contemplated. “They might be in danger? At this point, I wouldn’t put anything past Catherine.”
Tony nodded. “By keeping them ignorant, we’re protecting them.”
Laying her head against his shoulder, Claire ran her hand over his arm.
Tony reached for her left hand and looked at the diamond on her finger. “You know that this ring gave me hope and broke my heart at the same time?”
Claire raised her eyebrows.
“When the police found your belongings in that motel in Illinois and this ring wasn’t with them, I wanted to believe you were all right, that you were making your own decisions, and you weren’t in the hands of some crazy stalker, but then I realized, if that were true, then it meant you’d left me. It meant you didn’t want to be with me and you’d never return.”
She freed her hand and wrapped her arms tighter around his neck. “I’m so sorry. I was scared and misled.” She kissed his cheek while her fingers ran through his hair. “I should’ve spoken with you.” She buried her face in the crook of his neck. “I couldn’t leave the ring. I’d promised to keep it. I just couldn’t leave it.” Tears teetered on her lids.
He gently pushed her away and gazed into her eyes. “Claire, what’s the matter?”
She smiled behind the tears. “I think it’s the hormones. Sometimes I just cry.”
Tony smiled and hugged her tightly. “Just today, someone mentioned something about that.”
“Today? Who?”
“It was Francis. I know I’ve only been here a few days, but I think he and Madeline are great people. This island wouldn’t be the same without them.”
Claire nodded into his shoulder as she tried to suppress a yawn. “I agree.”
Carrying Claire, Tony walked slowly toward the steps. “I think you need to get some sleep.”
When they reached the steps, Claire let go of his neck. “I’m getting too fat for you to carry me out of the water.”
“No, Ms. Nichols, you’re not fat; however, I agree. I’d never forgive myself if my wet feet slipped and I hurt you or our son.”
Claire looked back to Tony. “Son?”
He shrugged. “Or daughter—I really don’t care.”
Taking his hand, Claire said, “While we were apart, I prayed for a boy. I wanted him to be just like you.”
“Like me?” He shook his head. “I know you’re smarter than that.”
As they reentered their suite, Claire said, “Well, the Nichols had only girls—at least, the last generation, and it seems the Rawls had only boys… so soon, we’ll learn which family dominates.”
Tony kissed her neck. “Sweetheart, the man determines the sex.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Not tonight he didn’t.”
“If you’re up for round two, I’m pretty sure we could even the score.”
“I think I’m going to wash the chlorine out of my hair. If it’s not too dominating of a suggestion, as you already know the shower is quite large, you may join me?”
Tony smirked. “Are you suggesting water conservation? I mean, I’m all for conserving resources.”
Later that night with the score one to one, Claire fell sound to sleep, listening to the soothing rhythm of Tony’s heartbeat. Fleetingly, she thought about Tony’s r
evelation. It was only the beginning, and they both knew there was much more to discuss. Their conversations in the past and in the future always had one rule: honesty. Tony had followed that rule and in essence, so had Claire. If she’d pretended his statement didn’t bother her, then she wouldn’t have been honest. Her last thought as she drifted away was of Tony’s warning. Claire decided he was right: the truth could be better handled in small manageable pieces. It was like her old way of dealing—compartmentalization. The difference was instead of hiding the secrets in the compartments this time, they were bringing them out.
When Claire woke in the morning, her world was still dark. As her eyelids fluttered and her lashes grazed the satin, she realized the darkness was her sleeping mask. Claire removed it from her eyes and reached toward Tony’s empty place in bed. It was already after 9:00 AM, and he was gone, probably off somewhere exploring the island or with Francis. Thankful for the extra sleep the mask brought, Claire thought pensively about the night before, and warm memories filled her thoughts. When she thought about falling asleep, she realized that she hadn’t been wearing the sleep mask. Shaking her head ever so slightly, a smile came to her lips. That’s another point for Tony! Perhaps soon she could even that score.
“I understand, sir,” Agent Baldwin said into his phone.
“Yes, Deputy Director, I’ll be back in San Francisco tomorrow evening.”
“Thank you, goodbye.”
Harry hit the DISCONNECT button and collapsed into the hotel chair. The conversation wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined. Although he’d lost track of both Claire and Rawlings, through the use of digital face recognition, they’d been identified at different times at airports in Papua, New Guinea. Claire was identified at the Baimuru Airport, whereas Rawlings was identified at the Daru Airport.
It’s believed they are staying somewhere in the South Pacific. Recognizably, this was a broad generalization. The area in question contained thousands of islands of varying sizes. Many of the island nations in this region rely heavily on tourism and have been known to be very welcoming and accommodating to wealthy residents. As a rule—questions were rarely asked.
Since they were no longer in Europe, Agent Baldwin was ordered to return to the field office in San Francisco. Although he didn’t mention it on the phone call, Harry vowed to share his research with SAC Williams or anyone who’d listen. He needed FBI resources to request blood samples from Simon Johnson and Jordon Nichols. Harry wasn’t even sure whether the samples would be available. If nothing else, he wanted to access the toxicology reports that were available.
If he couldn’t locate Claire and Rawlings, then his research would be his number one priority. Writing a note, Harry pondered, does the presence of actaea pachypoda create any unusual markers visible during toxicology screenings? Since most agencies don’t routinely test for it, maybe there was something else that could identify its presence. The fact it affected the heart—creating heart attack-like symptoms was too broad.
Harry had a few hours before he needed to get to the airport. While he waited, he reviewed medical histories. First, he looked at the known victims:
Nathaniel Rawls: died in 1989, at the age sixty-four. Interestingly, he died with only two months remaining on his reduced sentence. He had a history of high blood pressure, depression, vitamin deficiency, recreational alcohol usage, and nicotine dependence. He was being medicated for the high blood pressure and depression. According to the records, when he died, he still smoked a half of a pack a day. It was fair to assume his death was heart-related until actaea pachypodac was positively identified in his blood.
Agent Sherman Nichols: died in 1997, at the age of seventy-three. He also had a history of high blood pressure. In 1995, he had a heart catheterization resulting in the placement of two coronary stents. He was medicated for high blood pressure and high cholesterol, past history nicotine dependence. Again, it would be fair to assume cause of death to include heart disease. Again actaea pachypoda was positively identified in his blood.
Anthony Rawlings/Anton Rawls: survived poisoning, January 2012, at the age of forty-six. Wife, Claire Nichols Rawlings, pled no contest to charge of attempted murder. Governor Bosley extended a pardon which absolved Claire (Rawlings) Nichols of guilt. The state of Iowa hasn’t revisited the case due to Mr. Rawlings’ insistence. Also at the time of his poisoning, Mr. Rawlings had a clear medical history. His only medication was vitamins, recreational use of alcohol, and no history of smoking—family history would be the only connection to heart-related problems leading to his possible death. Upon arrival at the hospital, actaea pachypoda was positively identified in his blood.
Harry also reviewed his list of other possible victims:
Samuel and Amanda Rawls: COD gunshot wounds. The ballistics reports contradicted the released hypothesis of murder/suicide. The gunshot wounds were quite obviously not self-inflicted on either victim. They died in 1989, at the age of forty-five and forty-four. As much as Harry wanted to pin this on Rawlings, since they had his statement and the police reports verified his presence at the home the night of the murder, he couldn’t forget his discussion with Patrick Chester. It was clear that, during that discussion, Chester was being paid by someone to keep quiet about a woman—a woman in a blue Honda.
Jordon and Shirley Nichols: COD head trauma related to automobile crash. They died in 2004, at the age of fifty and forty-nine. Indiana State Police reports indicated the Nichols’ car was structurally sound. The crash was ruled accidental.
Simon Johnson: COD combustion, related to the crash and fire of a Cessna aircraft. He died in 2011, at the age of twenty-eight. NTSB reports indicated plane was structurally sound. To Harry, that confirmed that poison was indeed the cause of death, but he needed proof.
Although he couldn’t be sure about Tony’s parents, Harry’s gut told him the other deaths could all be traced to Rawlings. As he was about to leave for the airport, Harry scribbled another note, Check New Jersey, 1989, car registrations for blue Hondas. He stuffed the note into his laptop bag and headed to the airport.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.
—Victor Hugo
Claire loved lunchtime. Despite Tony’s request for her to better understand the whole employer/employee relationship, she refused to give up eating with Madeline and Francis. Breakfast was a free-for-all. Madeline and Francis had things they wanted to accomplish early in the day. The intense sun and heat made early morning and late evening the best times of the day to do labor. Tony had always been a person to wake early. The fact he no longer had work to attend, or thousands of jobs under his reign of responsibility, didn’t change his internal clock. Claire, on the other hand, enjoyed her sleep. While everyone else on the island could be up and going at the break of dawn, 8:00 AM or 9:00 AM was a much more acceptable waking hour for her. It was true that years ago, on Tony’s estate, she constantly woke about 8:00 AM. In her opinion, the difference was the seventeen extra pounds resting on her bladder. These days, she woke every two to three hours. Sleeping until 9:00 AM gave her the same total sum of sleep. It made perfect sense, and besides, no one complained.
The midday meal was a great time for everyone to connect. Claire knew it was a whole new world for Tony. In private, while he voiced his approval of Madeline and Francis, he still maintained his concerns regarding Claire’s ability to preserve the appropriate employer status. Claire didn’t care. She explained how instrumental Madeline and Francis had been to her initial adjustment, and they all knew it was her decision. As long as she wanted it, they would all continue to eat their midday meal together.
The day after Tony’s revelation, as their lunch was about to conclude, Claire asked Francis a question, “I remember you telling me you’re ordained. Does that mean you can legally marry two people?”
Claire ignored Tony’s wide-eyed micro-expression as Francis answered,
“Oui, Madame el, here in this island nation I am, as you say—licensed.”
She clarified, “What does that mean in the United States? Would we still be married?”
“Oui, after you file for your license.”
Tony couldn’t remain silent any longer. “Claire, my offer still stands, but you had things you wanted to discuss, so perhaps we should…”
Claire reached into the pocket of the lace cover up. Her fingers found an offering that only he would recognize. She gathered it into her fist, and extended her closed fist to Tony. “I have something for you.”
His eyebrows knit together in question as he trepidatiously opened his hand. Although there were very few secrets on a private island, as Claire released the offering with one hand, she closed his fingers around it with her other. In a low voice and with a smile that radiated to her emerald green eyes, she whispered, “I trust you.”
Tony nonchalantly glanced into his hand. Claire wasn’t the only one to see the spark in his dark chocolate eyes.
“Monsieur, this is your wish?” Madeline’s question pulled Tony’s gaze away from Claire’s.
“Oui, Madeline. It is my wish. I wanted to be sure it was Claire’s.”
Straightening her neck, Claire said, “Well, just so we’re all clear, I’m not the one who filed for divorce.” Tony momentarily bowed his head. What could he say? Before he returned his gaze to Claire, she worried that she’d said something she shouldn’t.
Her concern melted with his upturned lips and evaporated into nothingness with his words. “I admit it wasn’t the first mistake I’ve ever made; however, it is the one I regret the most.”
“Tonight?” Madeline asked as her volume increased. “May we have the wedding tonight?”
Claire giggled. “Tonight is very fast. I don’t have a dress—”
Madeline interjected, “Madame el, a wedding isn’t about a dress. A wedding is about the unification of two souls.” She paused. “In your case, the reunification.”
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