Tony never wavered, “Yes, Your Honor.”
“Do you understand what giving up that right means?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know that you are waiving the right to cross-examine your accusers?”
Tony replied, “Yes.”
Judge Jefferies continued his questions, “Do you know that you are waiving your privilege against self-incrimination?”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone force you into accepting this settlement?”
“No. No one forced me.”
“You are being charged with two counts of conspiracy to commit murder and one count of kidnapping. Are you pleading guilty because you in fact conspired to kill Allyson Burke Bradley and Simon Johnson?”
“Yes.”
“Are you also pleading guilty because you in fact transported Claire Nichols across state lines without her knowledge or consent?”
“Yes.”
“From where to where did you transport Ms. Nichols?”
“From Georgia to Iowa, Your Honor.”
Emily’s shoulders shuddered as the proceedings continued.
“Did you know that what you were doing was illegal?”
Tony’s shoulders lifted and fell, but his chin remained high. “Yes, Your Honor.”
Judge Jefferies concluded, “Mr. Rawlings, you are hereby sentenced to four years in a minimum-security federal prison camp. I am also making the recommendation that while incarcerated you attend counseling with a state-appointed therapist. While not at the suggestion of the counsel, I believe it would be an excellent use of your time and helpful for your future. Upon completion of your sentence, you will serve two years’ probation. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Do you have any questions before we adjourn?”
“No, Your Honor.”
Judge Jefferies addressed the attorneys, “Any further questions or comments, Counselors?”
“No, Your Honor,” came from both tables.
“Mr. Rawlings, as agreed upon, your sentence will begin immediately.” Addressing the courtroom, “Ladies and gentlemen, you were permitted to attend this closed hearing. Be aware that it was closed for a reason. Any information regarding this hearing that is released to the press without the written approval of this court will be evidence to hold you in contempt.” Hitting his gavel, Judge Jefferies proclaimed, “We are adjourned.”
Phil watched as Tony shook Brent’s hand, leaned across the bar and hugged Courtney, and was then led away by the waiting bailiff.
Once the judge and Tony were gone from the courtroom, the people from Rawlings murmured amongst themselves as Patricia dabbed her eyes.
Emily’s voice rose above the whispers. “How could you?” she asked Marcus Evergreen. “With all of the charges against him, how could you agree to four years? What happened to sexual assault? What happened to murder? Allyson Bradley is dead! Simon Johnson is dead!”
Chapter Thirteen
June 2014
John
Take the first step in faith. You don’t have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.
—Martin Luther King, Jr.
"AND YOU," EMILY growled toward Brent. “You claim to be Claire’s friend. How could you in good conscience defend him?” She pulled her arm from John’s grasp. “I’m not stopping. I want answers!”
“Not. Here,” John implored.
Jane whispered, “Emily, this is a conversation to be conducted in private.” Turning to Marcus, she asked, “Mr. Evergreen, could we possibly enter a private room and discuss what occurred?”
“I’ll see what I can find,” Marcus said as he closed his briefcase and stepped away.
Emily’s moist green eyes peered up at her husband, but it wasn’t sadness that he saw: it was full-out rage. Though they’d discussed Anthony’s pending charges ad nauseam, they’d never come to a conclusion like the one they just witnessed. “It will be all right. At least he isn’t free. Four years is a long time.”
“Not long enough, not after what he’s done to my family. I don’t understand. How could this happen?”
“I found a room,” Marcus announced.
“Brent and Courtney?” John asked. When they both looked his way, he said, “For Nichol’s sake, would you join us? It won’t change the outcome, but it may help us better understand.”
Courtney looked to her husband and nodded. Brent replied, “Yes.”
Courtney was the one who added, “Thank you for asking. Please know, we’d do anything for Nichol and for Claire.”
Courtney squeezed Patricia’s hand as she and the others filed from the room. Before leaving, Tim came up to John. “I know this isn’t a good time, but I’d like to discuss something with you, when you can.”
John looked questionably at Tim. “If it’s about the things we’ve said about Anthony—”
Tim shook his head and interrupted, “Not directly, but I’d like to talk to you. I guess I could say it’s indirectly about Claire.”
At the mention of her sister’s name, Emily looked their direction. She’d been shaking her head and twisting from side to side as she spoke quietly with Harry.
“This way,” Jane announced. “We don’t have the room for long.”
Tim handed John his card. “Please call and hear me out…” His eyes widened. “…for Claire.”
John took the card. “For Claire,” he repeated as he placed the card in his jacket pocket. Taking Emily’s hand, he gave it a squeeze and walked with her to the small conference room. As they neared, he whispered in her ear, “Please, hear them out.”
Inhaling deeply, she pressed her lips together and nodded.
The table only had six chairs as Marcus, Brent, Courtney, Jane, John, and Emily made their way to seats. John began. “Thank you for discussing this with us. I hope you can understand my wife’s outrage as well as our disbelief in what just happened. Mr. Evergreen, could you please explain to us the charges and how the plea agreement was reached.”
“Many things were taken into consideration. This is part of the closed negotiations. I’m sure you’re aware of the gag order.”
“We are,” John answered. “However, our special dispensation allows us—”
Brent interjected, “I believe everyone present is aware of the importance of confidentiality.”
“Yes,” Emily murmured. “We’d hate for the great Anthony Rawlings to have more bad press.”
John silenced her with his stare. “Thank you, Brent. We want to understand what happened and how it happened.”
Evergreen began, “Many of these crimes have been under investigation by the FBI for a long time. Although the use of actaea pachypoda is highly unusual, it’s been documented in the death and poisoning of individuals who were initially thought to be related in some way to Anthony Rawlings. With his help, it was discovered that although he was connected, he wasn’t the culprit. As you know, it was—”
“Catherine London,” John answered.
“Yes, I can’t go into specifics, but Mr. Rawlings was instrumental in helping them put the pieces of the case together. Prior to their return from the South Pacific, Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings had worked out a deal with the FBI.”
Emily covered her mouth, stifling the sound of her gasp.
“There was no money trail for the FBI or the Iowa City police to follow that specifically connected Mr. Rawlings with Allyson Bradley’s death. The only information they had was his confession. The same can be said about Simon Johnson. And although they had his confession, it couldn’t be substantiated by physical evidence. Mr. Rawlings admitted to paying for a crime. He paid to have Simon Johnson’s plane sabotaged. The NTSB verified that the plane was in perfect flying condition. Mr. Rawlings’ hit man didn’t do his job.”
“Then why did Simon crash?” Emily asked.
“I don’t know. If the FBI knows, they aren’t saying.”
“Okay, so that’s why the murder charges were reduced to co
nspiracy. What about the sexual assault?” John asked.
Brent answered, “Again, there was lack of evidence. The court can’t use a book as evidence without physical evidence or Claire’s testimony.”
Jane replied, “There was testimony, during her 2012 defense. She told us all about it. I took it to you.” She nodded toward Marcus Evergreen.
“That testimony was not made in a court of law or under oath. It can’t hold up in court.”
“This is ridiculous,” Emily sighed.
“That isn’t all,” Brent added. “In Iowa, there’s a statute that nullifies the charge if the two individuals are living together as husband and wife. The book claims that the assault occurred while Claire was living with Tony, in his house. And they later became husb—”
Emily interjected, “In his house, where he’d kidnapped her and taken her against her will. Where he’d trapped her!”
Marcus spoke calmly, “Mrs. Vandersol, that leads us to the most serious charge that Mr. Rawlings faced: kidnapping and transporting across state lines. As you know it’s a federal offense…” He went on to explain how he fought to keep that charge above everything.
“But four years?” John asked. “As a federal offense it can be punishable by up to twenty years, in some cases, life.”
Marcus replied, “There are many different stipulations that go along with kidnapping. Ms. Nichols was not a minor. There’s a stiffer penalty with minors. She was not sold into human trafficking. That too has a stiffer penalty. By her own admission, she had opportunities to flee and didn’t.”
“Because she was scared.” Tears coated Emily’s cheeks in a visible display of her frustration. She turned to Courtney. “You were her friend during that time. You know she was scared, don’t you?”
Courtney sat forward. “Emily, I had a feeling—a gut feeling—that something wasn’t right. Please know that I did, and still do love your sister. I asked her over and over if there was a problem. She never once told me there was.” She paused. “Well, not until later, after she was out of jail.”
“Jail!” John said. “What about filing a false report? Claire didn’t try to kill Anthony, yet she served fourteen months.”
Marcus cleared his throat. “The state of Iowa is responsible for that. I won’t admit to that publicly so don’t ask me to. But honestly, Mr. Rawlings woke in the hospital not knowing who poisoned him. The evidence, including video evidence, all supported that it was Mrs. Rawlings.”
Emily shook her head. “So that’s it. He pays $75,000, which to him is like pocket change, and he gets a slap on the wrist.”
“He confessed. He pled guilty,” Brent reminded her. “If he hadn’t, he would be free right now and exercising his rights as a free man.”
Emily’s green eyes opened wide. “He’s not getting to my sister or my niece. Not now, and not in four years. I didn’t protect her in 2010. I will now.”
“Thank you. Thank you for explaining this all to us. We’re not happy, but at least we understand.” John’s words were the dismissal for the meeting. Slowly, everyone rose from their seats, murmured their goodbyes and silently made their way out of the courthouse into the hot, sunny Iowa afternoon and through the throng of reporters.
“Mrs. Vandersol, could you give us a statement?”
“Mr. Vandersol, how do you feel about Mr. Rawlings’ sentence?”
“Did he really plead guilty?”
“Mr. Simmons, tell us how your client feels…”
No one replied as they made their way to their cars.
NICHOL ROCKED BACK and forth on her knees as she giggled and inched forward toward the brightly colored toy in front of her. A little progress and she was back to her tummy, arms and legs flailing in glee. With single-minded determination, she made the distance and reached for the soft black and red rattle. Once it was hers, she took it straight to her lips, her little jaw moving up and down.
“I think she’s teething,” Emily said.
“I thought babies were fussy when they teethed,” replied John.
“Becca said she had trouble going down for her nap, but since she woke, she’s been great.”
John scooped her from the floor and brought her to his lap. Contently, she chewed on her prized possession, until it fell from her grasp. Kicking her legs she arched her body in protest. As her cheeks reddened, John asked, “Whom do you think she gets that strong will from?”
Sighing, Emily leaned back and massaged her enlarged midsection. “I’d say both of them. Did you know that they’d worked together on a deal with the FBI?”
“No. I knew they didn’t pursue the aiding and abetting charge, but I didn’t realize there was an FBI connection.”
“Do you think they were really happy…” Her voice trailed away and then regained strength. “…wherever they were in the South Pacific?”
John shrugged. “I don’t see how. I mean, the more I read—”
“I told you not to.”
“I know. I’m not rushing through it, although I should, to get it over with. But I read it while flying. I just read about the first time she was allowed to call us. It was your birthday. Do you remember that?”
Tears descended as she managed to say, “I do. I was so happy to hear from her. If only I’d known…”
John moved to pull Emily into his arms. “I know… I’m so sorry we didn’t know… Courtney was right. Claire never told anyone.”
Emily nodded. “I hate that he got off so easy.”
“I was incarcerated. Trust me: he isn’t getting off easy.”
“Unless someone beats him into unconsciousness, I think it’s too easy.”
John shrugged. “Well, if he pisses off the wrong people—”
Emily grinned. “You’re just trying to make me feel better!”
After dinner, John settled at his desk in the study and looked at Tim’s business card, the one he’d been given earlier today. It was lying innocently on the desk… pleading for attention. Truly, John was curious as to what Tim wanted to say. Though the card had only his business numbers, in pen, Tim had added his personal cell number. John punched the number into his phone.
Contemplating the conversation he’d just had, John made his way through the house and found Emily lying on their bed, hands over her enlarged midsection, with her eyes closed. She looked so peaceful that John hated to disturb her. As he was about to walk away, her eyes fluttered open. “I thought you were sleeping,” he said softly.
“No, I was just enjoying our little man’s tap dance.”
John’s smile broadened as he made his way to the bed and placed his hand next to Emily’s. “I felt him! Man, he’s really moving.”
Emily nodded. “He is.”
“Is Nichol asleep?”
“I think so. I just put her down a few minutes ago. She was pretty tired.” Emily glanced toward the baby monitor on the bedside stand. “I haven’t heard a peep out of her.”
“Are you ready for two babies?”
Emily shrugged with a tired grin. “I’m ready for Michael to make his appearance, and after the last three months, I couldn’t imagine not having Nichol. So I think the answer is yes.”
“I love her too, but you know, she does have parents.”
Emily brushed a tear from her eye. “These stupid hormones have me all emotional.”
“You don’t think maybe it was the day. I mean it’s been pretty stressful. I think you need to get some sleep.”
“With everything going on with Anthony’s hearing, I forgot to tell you about my visit with Claire yesterday.”
John scooted up to the headboard and pulled his wife closer.
With her head on his shoulder and both of their hands on her midsection, Emily continued, “I like her doctor: she’s not only compassionate but incredibly intelligent. They’re trying some different things.”
“Like what?”
“Well, they asked me a lot of questions: like what does she like to do in her spare time? It occurred to
me that I didn’t know. I could tell them things she used to like to do, but I discovered the sad truth: I don’t know my sister anymore.” More tears blurred the room. “When we decided to move to California, before we knew about Nichol, I had such high hopes. I thought Claire and Harry seemed happy. I imagined all of us being a family one day.” She took a ragged breath. “It’s all his fault. Everything is his fault. Now, we’re not together as a family—even us. I miss having you around. But I can’t leave her…”
John held her shuddering shoulders as Emily’s tears dampened his shirt.
Smoothing his wife’s hair, John said, “Tim Bronson gave me his card today, just before he left the courtroom. He asked me to call him.”
“Why?”
“I was curious, too.”
Emily looked up. “You were? Does that mean you called him?”
“I did. I just got off the phone. That’s why I came to find you. I wanted to talk to you about his offer.”
“His offer? Does he want to bribe you to stop saying things about Anthony? I’ve been watching Rawlings Industries stock numbers. The company’s taken a hit.”
“Is that really what we want?”
Emily shook her head. “I don’t know. I want him to suffer.”
“You do realize that it’s not just him: there are the thousands and thousands of employees, and more importantly, there’s Claire and Nichol.”
“What are you saying?”
John continued, “Tim offered me a job.”
Emily’s eyes opened wide as she studied her husband. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You said you’d never work for Anthony. You said you wouldn’t even work for one of his subsidiaries, no matter how far down the food chain.”
Shrugging, he continued, “I didn’t say yes, but I didn’t say no. The thing is that he approached it from the standpoint of helping Claire and Nichol. Rawlings Industries is Nichol’s legacy. There’s no doubt that I hate Anthony Rawlings, but you have to admit that when it comes to financial support of Claire, her medical bills, treatment, anything, he’s offered unlimited funds. The same can be said about Nichol’s care. I know the money for her is in a trust, but helping to rebuild Rawlings Industries would assure their financial future. Hell, I can’t even get Claire to make eye contact with me. This is something I could do, and as a bonus, I’d live in Iowa with you, Michael, and Nichol. This traveling back and forth to Palo Alto is getting old.”
The Consequences Series Box Set Page 184