“I’m both, but I’m in here right now as your brother. I’m telling you to stop talking and get a lawyer.”
“I have lawyers,” she said smugly. “I have lawyers, assistants, accountants. I have a whole damn company at my disposal. The stupid bureau will never get any of this to stick. I’m innocent. Sure, I was pissed when I found out that Simon was going all over the damn country trying to get his wimpy nerve up to talk to that bitch. Wouldn’t you be upset? I mean, who goes to multiple events and then doesn’t even talk to her? Ha! I loved reading that stupid book. I hope that after Simon talked to her, Rawlings beat the sh—”
Harry stood. “Stop it! Now! Shut the fuck up and listen to yourself. Are you really that stupid? You’re in a damn interrogation room. Shut up! I’m getting Liz and getting one of your many attorneys over here. And I’ll call Mom and Mrs. Johnson. You don’t want either one of them hearing about this from some news report. In the meantime, shut up!”
Amber crossed her arms over her chest, pressed her lips together, and continued to glare as Harry walked from the room. Instead of heading out to Liz, Harry knocked on the door to the observation room. Williams opened it, and Harry entered, falling into one of the empty chairs. Williams sat next to him where they stayed—silent—for minutes upon minutes. Finally, Harry turned and said, “I need to get her that attorney.”
Williams nodded. “You gave her good advice, son. You can’t make her take it.” Williams handed Harry his vibrating phone.
Taking a deep breath he walked through the crowded hallways toward the waiting area, avoiding eye contact with everyone he passed. Once there, he stood and watched as Liz paced a small area near the corner of the room. She was holding her phone with one hand, willing it to ring, and had the other arm wrapped around her stomach. “Liz?” he asked.
Her anguish imploded as she ran towards Harry. Flinging herself against his hard chest, she sobbed. Finally, she asked, “What’s happening? I’m so glad you’re finally here.”
He wrapped her in his arms and whispered into her hair, “I’ve been here. I didn’t have my phone on me. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know.”
She looked up. “You’ve been here? Why? How long? What’s happening?”
“Amber needs an attorney—”
“No! That’s ridiculous.” Her indignation came forth with each word. “They can’t charge her with anything. She would never—”
“They already did,” Harry said, as Liz’s head shook back and forth. Taking her face in his hands, he closed the gap. “Liz, Amber needs you to be strong. Please, call SiJo. Get someone from legal over here right away. Call public relations and get them to run some kind of defensive maneuver. This won’t be good for SiJo.”
Liz lifted her phone, but looked back up. “SiJo? You’re worried about SiJo? What about Amber? You’re an FBI agent—do something to help her.”
“I am, and so are you. She needs legal representation before she says something that she can’t retract.”
Liz lifted one finger as she spoke into her phone. When she was done, she looked back at Harry. “They’re on their way. Can I see her? Have you seen her?”
“I’ve seen her, but you can’t.”
“You don’t want me to see her or I can’t?”
“Both. We can’t do any more here. Let’s go home.”
She planted her feet. “Home? I can’t leave her. She’s my best friend, and she’s my boss. I won’t just leave her.”
Harry forced a grin and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I love your stubborn streak, but now isn’t the time. Fine, we can wait until legal arrives, but then we’re leaving.”
“Harry, you know that Amber wouldn’t do what they’re saying…”
He placed his finger over her lips. “Stop talking about it. We’re in a police station. Both you and Amber need to just stop talking.”
As they sat in the plastic chairs and waited, exhaustion as Harry had never felt before filled his being. His temples throbbed at the thoughts going through his head. He needed to call his mother. He needed to call Simon’s mother. He needed to file a report about his non-interrogation. None of that, though, was what he wanted to do. Harry wanted to climb into his bed and not come out for days. He wanted to pretend that everything was all right. He wanted to go back in time to when Simon was alive… no, farther back than that, back to when Ilona told him she was pregnant.
Harry closed his eyes and squeezed Liz’s shoulder. She had her head resting against him. It would be so easy to lay his head on hers… and try to forget.
Chapter Twenty
December 2015
Tony
Love is not a feeling of happiness. Love is a willingness to sacrifice.
—Michael Novak
"I HATE WINTER," Tony stated, as he stared out the large pane of glass in Jim’s office.
“Have you always hated winter?”
Tony glared. It didn’t seem to matter how many times he said that he hated the questions, that was all Jim seemed to know how to do. “No, I didn’t hate it. I never noticed it.”
“Didn’t you live in Iowa?”
“I do live in Iowa. This,” he said, gesturing with his arm, “isn’t living.”
Jim grinned. “All right, so you live in Iowa and never noticed winter?”
Tony turned back toward the snow-covered terrain. The colorful flowers he’d helped plant and the green grass he’d helped mow were now covered in a thick blanket of white. He noted how the sidewalks that he’d shoveled only a few hours ago held an inch or two of new accumulation. Damn, when he got out of this hellhole, he swore he’d never lift another snow shovel. Honestly, he’d probably never mow a blade of grass either, but if Claire wanted help in the gardens, he was more than willing to do that. The sound of Jim’s exaggerated throat clearing reminded Tony about their conversation. Was it a conversation? It was therapy, but for the past eighteen months it was the closest thing that he’d had to conversation, other than when he had visitors.
“Iowa has winter,” Tony replied. “There’s snow and shit, but I was always so busy I never paid any attention. I spent most of my time working or traveling. The weather was irrelevant.”
“So you didn’t spend much time outside?”
Tony shrugged, walked to the chair, and sat. “Not until Claire.” It was easier talking about her than it used to be. As long as they stayed away from the shit in the damn book and concentrated on their second chance, Tony actually enjoyed the walks down memory lane. Sure, they made him sad, but life was sad and Yankton sucked. If he was going to be down anyway, it might as well be while thinking about Claire.
“Tell me what you and she would do outside.”
Tony closed his eyes as his cheeks rose. The grin felt nice. “She liked to walk in the woods. We have acres and acres of land covered with trees. I’d lived there for about fifteen years before she came to the estate—”
“Anthony,” Jim interrupted. “Honesty. Did Claire come to the estate?”
Tony sighed and began again. “I’d lived there for about fifteen years before I brought Claire to the estate.” He opened his eyes to see Jim nodding. “I’d never ventured out into the woods. I didn’t want to. I’d surveyed the land from a helicopter after I’d purchased it. That was my only real knowledge of what lay behind the trees. I knew she liked to be outside. One time, while I was out of town, she started going out into the woods, not for hours but for entire days.”
“How did you feel about her being gone all day?”
“I didn’t like it. At first, I was confused. I was overseas and when I’d check the surveillance feed from her suite, I couldn’t understand why she wasn’t there. I called and was told she was out walking. Later, I found where she left the yard every day. It was the same place, but I couldn’t see where she went. All I could do is fast forward until she returned.”
“How did that make you feel, to not know where she was?”
“Stop asking me that! I’m talking. I’m answerin
g your damn question about being outside.”
“You’re an intelligent man. I believe you can multitask. Try answering both questions at the same time.”
Tony shifted in his seat and let out an exasperated sigh. “When I didn’t know where she was, I was upset, and I was worried…” Jim started to talk, but Tony spoke over him. “I was worried that she might try to leave. She was gone all day long. There’s a highway about another mile west of the lake. What if she kept walking and made it to the highway?” He looked again at Jim and shrugged. “But she didn’t. I didn’t even know she was at the lake until I got home and questioned her. And I was happy that she was honest with me,” he added with a feigned grin. “Later, after we were married, she took me there. The first time was during a snowstorm. We got there on cross-country skis. I felt cold.” This time his grin was real. “But not really. She was so excited, talking about the way everything looked in the summertime. She talked about flowers, trees, insects, and animals. I’d never realized all of that was just outside of my door. We went back in the summer, too.”
Tony stood again and walked to the window. “That’s why I’m not selling the estate. She loves that lake and the grounds too much.”
“What about your house.”
“I told you, I’m having it demolished.”
“Anthony, we discussed this. You’re not in the right frame of mind to make that kind of decision.”
“Are you telling me that I can’t have my own house torn down?”
Jim stood, walked closer, and leaned against the wall. “No, I’m suggesting that you wait and think this through.”
“I guarantee I’ve thought it through. I have nothing else here to do here but think. I’ve thought about it until I don’t want to think anymore. Other than a few personal items… and a painting… it can all go.” He emphasized, “I want it gone.”
“And you get what you want.”
“I used to.”
“Anthony, you’re grasping at anything to give you a sense of control. Demolishing your home is a way for you to rid yourself of the past. It isn’t that easy. If it were, there would hardly be a home that stood for more than ten years. Hell, most wouldn’t stand that long.”
“I know the past won’t go away. I don’t want it all to go away—just some of it.”
“You’ve made progress, even if you don’t see it. I see it.”
Tony turned toward him. “Being complacent and putting up with the shit here doesn’t mean I’ve made progress. It means I don’t have a choice. I’m not going to be this person when I get out of here. I can’t.”
Jim nodded. “I agree with you. When you’re out of here, you won’t be the man you are in here: you also won’t be the man you were before.”
“I sure as hell plan on it.”
“How did prison change Claire?”
Tony couldn’t help the grin. “It made her bold and cheeky.”
“It did?” Jim asked.
“Yes. She was something else. I’ve never had anyone talk to me the w—”
“Is prison making you bolder?”
The spark left his dark eyes. “I’d say no, but I plan on being that way again after I’m out.”
“Why do you think prison made her bolder?”
Tony ran his hand through his hair. “Because it did. I told you. She was so much spunkier. Damn,” he said reminiscing, “I loved her retorts.”
“What was she like before you kidnapped her?”
Tony stared.
“Think about that Anthony: how many times has Claire been in prison? Which time changed her the most? Could the personality that you enjoyed so much be her true personality, not the one you experienced after you kidnapped her?’
“I don’t fuck’n know. She was different the first time she came—was brought to the estate. At the time it was what I thought I wanted.” Tony sighed. “I liked the control.” His eyes changed from dull to bright. “But not as much as I enjoyed her later. I guess I knew that she was behaving the way I wanted her to. Hell, she even said what I wanted.”
“And if she didn’t.”
Tony shrugged. “It’s like here. You do what you’re supposed to do, what you need to do, or else.”
“Else?”
“There are consequences.”
“Anthony, I know that reading Meredith Banks’ book was difficult for you, but can you see how similar your situations are?”
“I don’t like to think about it.”
“Tell me one benefit of being here, at Yankton.”
Tony muffled a laugh. “There isn’t one benefit to being here.”
Jim shrugged. “Some people might disagree. I mean there are plenty of repeat felons. There must be something that’s appealing.”
“What? A roof over your head and three square meals a day? I have that at home in Iowa, where I live.”
“You do, but that’s a good start. How has your job stress been?”
“What fuck’n job stress? Tim and Patricia keep me updated, but I can’t watch the stocks like I used to, I’m not involved with day-to-day decisions. Maybe you’re talking about my job here?” He tilted his head toward the window. “I’m pretty pissed off about the new snow that’s fallen. I just had that fuck’n sidewalk cleared.”
“So, benefit number one, food and shelter. Benefit number two, less stress.”
“If you’re going there, be more specific,” Tony corrected. “Less job stress. This place has plenty of other stress.”
“All right, give me two of those stressors in this place.”
Tony didn’t need to think about his answer. “The damn counts. I hate that, and being told what to do and when to do it. Nothing, none of your so-called benefits outweighs that.”
“So what would make you come back here?”
Tony squared his shoulders. “Nothing. Not one damn thing.”
“Interesting.” Jim moved back to his chair and leaned back. “So what if it changed? What if you could come back, still get the benefits, but the stressors were less?”
“Not interested.”
“Really? Why?”
“The counts, the shit, it would always be here. I’d still remember it.”
“I think our time is about up, and you have a count in less than ten minutes. Between this time and next time, think about this conversation. Oh, and don’t do anything rash regarding your house.”
Tony nodded. “I’ll think about it, and I’ve already given the orders. The house is going.”
Spring 2016
TONY'S JAW CLENCHED as he waited for Brent to answer his phone. Tony only had a small window of time to use the damn phone, and the next person to use it was standing a mere few feet away. How fuck’n hard was it to get some damn privacy?
“Yes, I’ll accept the charges.” Tony heard Brent say. “Tony, is everything all right? Why are you calling?”
“I want Patricia fired. I want you to meet her at the airport, let her get her things at Rawlings, and escort her off the property.”
The shock in Brent’s voice came through the line. “W-what the hell? Tony, are you thinking straight?”
“Yes, I’m thinking straight. I can’t work with her anymore and I won’t.”
“Do you mind filling me in on what happened?”
“I’m a man. I’m not fuck’n dead, but I don’t care what Roach says, I believe Claire’s going to get better.”
“Tony, what does that have to do with Patricia?”
“It’s been happening for a while, but I didn’t really notice, or I guess I wasn’t paying attention. When I did, I thought if I just ignored her, it would stop. They have rules here. Shit, she almost got me in trouble.”
“I’m still lost,” Brent said.
“She fuck’n made a move on me. She’s been saying things about wanting to help me, help me not be so lonely, come visit more often. Then she started talking about Nichol and how Claire was too sick to care for her. She said that she’d never do that. She’d never
leave her husband and daughter. She said that she could care for Nichol like a mother, better than Claire. I about lost it. I was fuck’n wanting to get her away from me. She knew I was mad, but she started to say how she understands… I’m just lonely and frustrated. Well, she’s got that right, but not for her! Years ago, before Claire and I were married, Patricia accompanied me to a few outings. It was usually last minute. She talked about that and how she wished I’d never met Claire—if I hadn’t, we’d be together. Then, when the buzzer sounded for visiting time to end, she leaned over, gave me a way too good shot at her low-cut blouse, and kissed me!”
When Tony stopped talking, it wasn’t Brent who replied but Courtney. She gasped and said, “She did what?! Oh no, there’s no way she’s getting anywhere near Nichol. Don’t you worry. Aunt Cort is on this.”
“You’re on speaker, Tony.”
“Yes, I kind of figured. I have about thirty seconds left on this call. I’m so mad I can hardly see straight. She’s flying back to Iowa on the Rawlings jet right now. I want you to meet her at the airport.”
Brent replied, “Not a problem. I’m behind you one hundred percent.”
“So am I,” Courtney chimed in.
“I don’t want this to be public knowledge, only a need-to-know basis. Her leaving will be for some other reason. Work it out. Pay her. I don’t give a damn. Just be sure she signs a gag order. Claire’s coming back to me. I’m coming back to her. There’s no way in hell I would ever…”
“I’ll take care of it,” Brent said, just as the phone went dead.
Summer 2016
"DO YOU BELIEVE SHE'LL ever see it?” Jim asked about the new house Tony had been describing.
“Of course she’ll see it. She’ll live in it.”
“Remember what we talked about. Remember the conclusion you’ve drawn.”
Tony nodded. “I do. I get it. Claire coming back to me, remarrying me, even though I was different—or tried to be different—will always be a prison to her. I get that. That doesn’t mean I can’t make her life the best it can be.”
The Consequences Series Box Set Page 191