“The position of president of security operations at SiJo is yours. All you need to do is say the word. Walk away from this. Don’t let Rawlings ruin any more lives.”
Harry didn’t answer. He sat back down to his makeshift desk with multiple computer screens and concentrated on his research. He knew there was nothing more he could add to the conversation—nothing productive. Amber must have realized he wasn’t turning back around. He heard her huff and get up before the door to his condominium slammed shut sending aftershocks back to the living room.
With no one around, Harry read the screens. SAC Williams had gotten him access to the bureau’s server. The databases of information were a wealth of knowledge. Unfortunately, in real life, results for searches didn’t materialize as fast as they did on television shows. That was all right. Currently, Harry’s only commodity was time. That was one of the reasons the Deputy Director allowed him to remain on the case. That—and Harry’s acceptance of beefed up-security.
He hated having an agent posted outside his door. It was even worse having one accompany him everywhere he went; nevertheless, in his current state, Harry agreed. He wouldn’t be much of threat if he were to be attacked again.
As he read the screens and entered more data, Harry thought about his sister’s words. He understood her concern and appreciated her offer of a job. Harry liked the time he’d spent at SiJo. For anyone else, it would be a great career. Amber had even offered him a real position on the board of directors.
When he considered how far their relationship had grown since his divorce, he felt an unfamiliar sense of contentment. Maybe he did have the family he’d always wanted. The fact that he’d had it since he was a young boy, but hadn’t realized it, almost made it better. He wasn’t as alone as he sometimes thought. Harry hoped that one day Amber would understand his determination to nail Rawlings to the wall was for her too. She needed closure on Simon’s death. No beat-down in an alley would change that.
He reached for his phone and texted Amber.
“THANKS FOR THE OFFER. I’M SORRY FOR BEING AN ASS. DINNER?”
Claire held tight to Tony’s hand while Francis maneuvered the boat through the crystal waters. The trip from the island to town took anywhere from thirty to forty minutes, depending on wind and the roughness of the sea. Since this was only Claire’s second excursion off the island, she was surprised by the number of other islands they passed. The first time Francis took her into town, she was too nervous to truly register the world outside of the boat.
Today, through sunglass-covered eyes, she took in the beauty around her. The bright, tropical sun danced off the waves and glistened both near and far. The sea was neither calm nor rough. In more open water, the waves were bigger. As they traveled between the islands in narrower straits, the seas calmed, reminding Claire of their lagoon. The islands they passed en route varied immensely. Some were small, like hers. Others were large with multiple homes. Many were uninhabitable with cliffs and ragged stone mountains. Claire understood how under the cover of darkness, maneuvering around the channels between the islands could be dangerous. If the seas were too rough, a boat the size of theirs could easily find itself thrown against the large rocks and cliffs.
Despite having been born elsewhere, Francis knew the language and the culture of the area well. He was also known by many of the townspeople. Once they were ashore, Claire watched Francis’ interaction with the natives. Over the years, he’d obviously earned their respect.
Claire didn’t see any motorized vehicles other than watercraft. She whispered to Francis, “Does anyone drive cars here?”
“Oui, Madame el.” He pointed toward a large mountain in the distance. “There’s one road that comes around the mountain, but driving it takes much time. Most traveling and shipments, they come by plane or helicopter. The airport is not far.”
Claire remembered Phil telling her that by air she could be at a state-of-the-art medical facility in less than two hours.
Tony asked, “Are there always planes at the ready and pilots? Or do they need to be reserved in advance?”
“Reserved is better,” Francis answered. “However, most requests can be accommodated quickly.”
Tony decided, since they had time, he wanted to see the airport. Claire wasn’t interested. She decided to spend her time walking around the town until her doctor’s appointment. First, she entered what she considered to be the equivalent of a grocery store. Many of the town’s people spoke enough English to help Claire if she had any questions. There were also stands or booths along the side of the road with items for sale. It appeared many of the natives did more bartering than buying and selling. The road was defined and hard, but not paved—well-tried dirt. On her way to the doctor’s office, Claire passed two taverns and decided alcohol was a universal language.
The waiting area of the doctor’s office was full of people, yet when Claire entered, the nurse immediately led her back to one of the examination rooms. “My husband will be here in a few minutes. I’d like to wait for him.”
“Your husband?” The nurse beamed. “But of course. Will you learn your baby’s gender today?”
Claire smiled. “I sure hope so. Can we please do another ultrasound?”
“Let me check with the doctor. It’s his decision.”
After a few minutes of being alone, the door opened. When Tony entered, Claire knew why she hadn’t heard the customary pre-enter knock. Grinning toward his handsome face, Claire thought how knocking had never been his forte. Tony’s deep voice and sparkling eyes revealed his excitement. “I thought your appointment wasn’t for another half an hour. I didn’t miss anything, did I?”
“No,” she reached out to hold his hand. “They brought me back as soon as I arrived. I have a little habit of being early for appointments.”
Tony snickered. “I like that habit.”
“I know you do.”
As their lips united, there was a knock on the door. Claire’s eyes twinkled as she called, “Come in.”
The nurse entered, “Oh, hello, you must be Mr. Nichols?”
Claire watched as Tony’s lips twitched. Suppressing her giggle, she replied, “This is my husband. Rawlings is our last name. Nichols was my maiden name.”
The nurse apologized and explained that, after Claire’s exam, the doctor would allow another ultrasound. When they were alone again, Tony asked, “Are you sure there isn’t a problem using our real names?”
“Francis assured me and so did Phil. This place as well as others like it, are known for their discretion. Apparently, we aren’t the only people here, or in the world, willing to pay big money to hide. It’s a great source of income for areas where resources are limited. They’re paid very well to keep our information private.”
Tony nodded. “If they’re paid that well, then I’d think we could have an ultrasound whenever we wanted.” He squeezed her hand. “And I want one!”
She grinned. “Me too!” Her smile faded. “Tony, I hope you aren’t disappointed, I mean, I know you keep saying you don’t care if our baby is a boy or a girl, but I think you do.”
“I really don’t. I promise I won’t be disappointed. Healthy is what I want. I also want you healthy and safe. The only things that we’ll accomplish today will be learning whether we need to order blue or pink baby things and narrow our name discussion to one gender.”
Claire smiled. They’d discussed names a little bit—mostly, they seemed to discuss boy’s names. When they Googled the most popular names for the last year, Sophia came up for girls and Aiden for boys. Tony immediately nixed Sophia. When he explained his reasoning, Claire was shocked. She had no idea Catherine had a daughter. The story was especially wild when he explained that Sophia was the artist who painted Claire’s wedding portrait. Apparently, he’d been watching her since Nathaniel died. It wasn’t done for vengeance. Tony’s voyeurism of Sophia was the fulfillment of a promise to Nathaniel, to watch over Catherine’s daughter. Tony didn’t know why Catherin
e didn’t want to see her, but the night he was taken into FBI custody, Tony was about to tell Sophia the truth about her mother. Obviously, he never got the chance.
Claire agreed. The name Sophia wasn’t in the running.
Neither one had a reason for not liking Aiden. They just didn’t. Tony didn’t want to use family names. As much as he had admired Nathaniel, he now realized that perhaps his grandfather wasn’t as good of an influence as he had once thought. Claire contemplated names from her family. She knew without asking, Emily was a no. Her mother’s name, Shirley, was very close to Tony’s grandmother, Sharron. Claire’s grandmother Elizabeth was close to Emily. None of them seemed worth arguing for. So far, the only girl’s name that they were both receptive to was Courtney.
When it came to boy names, for every suggestion Claire made, Tony had a counter. He liked names that could be shortened. He said, from experience, he believed it made a nice separation between business and personal. Claire didn’t ask if Tony assumed his son would follow him into business. After all, if—and that was a very big if—their public issues could be resolved, Anthony Rawlings was a man worthy of having a son follow in his footsteps; however, late at night, when Claire would wake and stare up to the ceiling while Tony slept soundly, she worried. Anthony Rawlings, businessman, had so many worries and concerns. Did she want that for her son or daughter? The larger looming concern was Tony’s predilection for perfection. Claire had no way of knowing the personality of the child within her, yet if he were anything like his father, would the combination in a professional setting be potentially combustible? Would it be different with a daughter? Claire didn’t know.
When the doctor entered, Tony stood near Claire’s head, kept his hand on her shoulder and listened. She loved his presence; just knowing he was near gave her more confidence. The doctor reassured Claire, her weight gain was within normal limits and expectations. When she complained about filling so fast, he recommended multiple small meals as opposed to three larger ones. She looked up to Tony’s knowing eyes and realized he wasn’t only filling the role of father and offering emotional support, but also acting as informant. Madeline would know the new meal requirements before Claire made it home.
After the exam, the nurse led them to a different room for the ultrasound. The doctor used the same machine he’d used during Claire’s last visit. She and Tony watched silently as the grainy image came to the screen. Again, he used lines and made measurements. They both breathed a sigh of relief to learn their baby was right on target for thirty weeks, measuring fifteen and a half inches long and weighing about three pounds.
“Three pounds,” Claire repeated. “Then why have I gained almost twenty?”
The doctor laughed and said, “Because, Claire, you aren’t just carrying a baby; there’s a whole lot more in there.”
She knew he was right.
“And…” the doctor continued, “…your baby will continue to gain, about a half a pound a week from now until you deliver, so eating those small meals is important.”
Before Claire could respond, Tony answered, “Don’t worry, she will.”
The doctor moved the large wand around Claire’s abdomen. The coolness of the gel didn’t register as she watched the screen. Ever present in the background was the steady heartbeat of their child. As usual, it brought back memories of her lake. They watched in amazement as the doctor pointed out the baby’s nose in a profile. When he repositioned the wand, they were able to count fingers and toes—they weren’t able to see the gender.
“I’m sorry. Your baby’s being modest. I’d hoped if we continued, he or she’d move and reveal their secret. So far, that hasn’t happened.”
Though they were both disappointed, Tony and Claire understood. Tony replied, “That’s fine, doctor. The most important thing is that everything is going as it should.”
“Yes, Mr. Rawlings, everything is perfect.”
Claire smiled. She knew that perfect was exactly the way Tony liked it!
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Let us not be content to wait and see what will happen, but give us the determination to make the right things happen.
—Horace Mann
Phil created a VPN, virtual private network, for both Tony and Claire. This allowed them access to websites and emails while virtually untraceable. When connected through a proxy and the multiple shell accounts he’d established, Phil believed their transactions were completely untraceable.
To communicate with one another, Phil, Tony, and Claire utilized email as well as occasional instant messaging. They could call; however, Phil still emphasized that calls needed to remain short. During the first week of November, Phil sent the Rawlings his second email:
To: Nouveau Alexanders
From: PR
Re: Current assignment
Date: November 7, 2013
Our initial meeting went well. I reminded Ms. L of her original directive. Ms. N’s location wasn’t to be divulged. She hasn’t pursued the subject. My assignment is to watch a woman named Sophia Burke. Her husband, Derek, is employed by Rawlings Industries and was recently transferred to corporate headquarters in Iowa City.
They recently moved to Iowa from California, and I’m gathering background information. Though this seems benign, I have a feeling there’s more to it. The name Burke concerns me. I don’t remember reading about a Derek in Ms. N’s research. Is there a connection to Jonathon? I’ll learn, but your assistance may speed my research.
Simultaneously, their iPads notified them of the email. Claire saw the icon and looked across the room. “It has to be from Phil. I’m nervous.”
“His last message wasn’t very enlightening.” Tony opened the message. Tell me again why he’s addressing us as the New Alexanders?”
Claire shrugged. “I think he’s avoiding using our real names.” Was it wrong to have a private joke? She hoped not. There was no way to explain her and Phil’s relationship without inciting unwarranted concerns from Tony, and there was no reason for him to be concerned. There was nothing between her and Phil but trust and friendship. It was the kind of friendship that comes when trust has been tested by fire and survived.
She and Tony both read the email. The last time she’d heard the name Derek Burke, it was Brent who brought it to her attention. Although she and Tony pledged honesty and full disclosure, Claire didn’t believe their promise included harming his relationship with his closest friends. He was unaware of their support; it seemed best.
Claire had recently learned the story of Sophia. She looked up from her screen. “Tony, is this the same Sophia? Catherine’s daughter?”
She saw the darkness return to his eyes as they moved from the screen toward her. “Yes. How in the hell did she manipulate moving them to Iowa? Executor of my estate has no control at Rawlings Industries.”
Claire put down her tablet, walked to her husband, and touched his shoulder. “Why would she do that? Why, after all these years of not wanting to know her daughter, would she suddenly move her to Iowa?”
He covered her hand with his. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”
“What are you worried about?”
“Accidents.”
The word still caused the hair on the back of Claire’s neck to stand to attention. “What kind of accidents? You don’t think Catherine would harm her own daughter, do you?”
“I’m not sure she has boundaries. Look at what she’s done to us.”
Claire saw the restraint in his expression, exposed through the bulging veins of his neck. His jaws were clenched as he modulated his voice to its most accommodating tone. “It’s the middle of the afternoon and too hot for you to be out in the sun. You should rest and keep your feet up. I need to go for a walk.”
Claire wanted answers to her questions. How did Tony’s promise to Nathaniel influence his clandestine protectiveness of Sophia? What exactly were Catherine’s capabilities? Where were Tony’s boundaries? However, sensing his distress, she didn’t ask. T
hey’d been down too many difficult roads lately. This situation wasn’t her battle, her family, or her promise. Tony needed to work it out for himself. She exhaled. “All right, I’ll rest in our room. Please come wake me when you get back.”
As he kissed her cheek, she saw something in his eyes, something that made her pulse race. “Tony, please don’t leave the island.”
Her plea pulled him from his thoughts. “What? How did you know I was thinking that?”
She held his hands. “I won’t be able to rest if I’m thinking about you out in the boat. I know Francis showed you how to drive it and has taken you out, but I can’t bear to lose you again.”
“Claire, I hate this feeling of helplessness.” He let go of her hands and paced near the open doors to the lanai. “This place is amazing. You’re amazing. I want to be here with you and our child; however, when I read about Rawlings Industries and now this, I feel like a caged animal. There are so many things I could be doing if I were back home.”
“I hoped you’d consider yourself home.”
She saw his shoulders slump. His expression of amusement was short-lived. “How many times am I to hear my own words and phrases repeated to me?”
Claire shrugged. “I don’t have a definitive number. What can I say?” She stepped toward him and reached for his cheek. Brushing it gently, she allowed the afternoon stubble to abrade the tips of her fingers. “You’re a wise man, and I’ve learned a lot from you. You should consider it an honor. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”
“I think there are others who you’d be better to imitate.”
Kissing his lips, she lingered on her tip-toes and whispered, “Right now, I’m going to lay down. When I wake, I’ll trust that you haven’t disappointed me.”
The Consequences Series Box Set Page 145