Claire inhaled the sweet scents of lotion and powder as she held Baby Beth in her arms. Staring down at her niece, she gently ran the tips of her fingers over the fine blonde hair. “Oh, Em, couldn’t you just sit and hold her for hours?”
With emerald eyes that sparkled with both love and exhaustion, Emily replied, “I could. I really could, but I don’t believe Michael would approve.”
Claire grinned. The thought in her mind shouldn’t be voiced, yet Claire couldn’t stop herself. “You did this with two, when Michael was born…” She kept her eyes on the beautiful baby, avoiding her sister’s tired gaze. “I’m sorry you had to, but you’re experienced with two children.”
Emily shook her head. “No, Claire, don’t be sorry. We love Nichol. You know, I thought I was experienced. I thought this would be like it was when Michael was born, but it’s not. It’s a whole new world. Nichol was seven months old when Michael came into our lives. It wasn’t easy having two babies. That’s when we hired Becca.” She sighed. “Thank God we hired Becca. Like I said, it wasn’t easy, but Nichol wasn’t walking or talking or demanding attention… other than what babies do. It wasn’t like this. Michael wants to play and go. Nichol was content to be home with Michael and me.”
Claire looked up to see her sister’s eyes close. “Em, why don’t you take a nap? Shannon and Becca have Nichol and Michael outside. I’ll take care of Beth for an hour or so. You need your rest.”
Emily’s eyes opened wide. “No. I can’t do that.”
“Why not? You just fed her. Look, her little eyes are fighting sleep. She’ll be fine.”
“I… I just… what if something happens?”
“Don’t be silly,” Claire scoffed. “Taylor’s here. Everything’s fine. You should take advantage of the opportunity and get some rest when you can.”
Stifling a yawn, Emily stood. “Really, Claire, thank you. I just can’t. I’ll nap when John gets home. Let me have her, and I’ll put her down in her crib. You and I can have some coffee and watch the kids play. We haven’t talked in a while, not without the kids or men around.” Reaching for her daughter, Emily asked, “Fill me in on what’s happening with you?”
Claire felt a cold chill as Beth’s tiny warm body was lifted from her lap. Suddenly, sadness filled her chest. She’d wanted a range of emotion and as she contemplated the sudden emptiness, she had it. Fighting the realization of what just went unspoken, Claire feigned a smile. Her sister didn’t trust her with her child. Trying to hide her hurt, Claire said, “I’m good, Emily. I’ll go make some coffee while you put Beth down. Then I’ll meet you on the back patio. It’s getting warmer and the children are playing in the backyard.”
“That sounds great,” Emily replied, heading toward the nursery.
With each step, Claire thought about the disappointment eddying through her. Yes, she’d had mental issues, but never in her life would she have imagined that her own sister wouldn’t trust her with her baby. Didn’t Emily know how much Claire loved children? With each step she tried to suppress her distress. As she did a new thought occurred to her. Wasn’t this a good sign? She wanted the range of emotion that was real life. By decreasing her medications, she asked to once again experience the ups and downs. Claire had just forgotten how painful the downs could be.
As she made the coffee Claire tried to concentrate on the positive. She thought how Beth reminded her of Nichol at that age. Suddenly, her mind went to Madeline. The kind woman’s gentle touch, caring words, and wealth of knowledge were Claire’s light and encouragement during those first few months of motherhood. Madeline not only taught Claire and Tony about babies, she empowered them to be parents. Thinking about the prospect of another baby, Claire knew what she wanted. She decided that when she and Tony were alone, she’d talk to him about inviting Madeline and Francis to Iowa.
Those thoughts and plans pulled Claire from her feeling of rejection as she settled at the Vandersols’ outdoor table and watched the children running furiously about the yard, laughing and kicking. In the past few weeks, Nichol had become obsessed with soccer. Thankfully both children were wearing little shin guards. Heaven knows what type of tragedy could occur without them. Claire shook her head. Although her daughter knew very little about the real game, Claire heard Nichol’s voice above the giggles, constantly reminding her cousin of the rules, or more accurately her rules. It was at times like this that Claire saw more Tony in their child.
She felt she had a strong argument for nature over nurture. Even without the presence of her father for the first three years of her life, Nichol’s words, actions, and even gestures were all miniature copies of her father’s. Yet as these thoughts streamed through her mind, Michael fell to the ground, holding his leg. Before Claire could stand, Nichol was on her knees at his side. The injury timeout was short-lived. Soon they were both up and the game was once again in full swing. Claire smiled. Nichol may have Tony’s determination, but she also possessed her mother’s gentleness and compassion.
“What are you thinking?” Emily asked as she sat and placed the small monitor on the table. The warm afternoon breeze gently blew through their hair.
“I was thinking about how much I enjoy watching Nichol and Michael together.” Claire didn’t want to address what had happened inside with Beth.
“I do too. They have so much fun together.”
Claire nodded as she took a sip of her coffee.
“I especially like how they wear each other out,” Emily said. “I hope they welcome Beth into their world.”
“I like the wearing out part too, and don’t worry, they will,” Claire reassured. “Nichol’s elated that the girls now outnumber the boys.”
“I worry that they’ll think of her as a nuisance, being younger than them.”
“Did you think I was a nuisance?” Claire asked with a smirk.
Emily grinned over the rim of her coffee mug. “Hmmm. Maybe I shouldn’t answer that.”
“Well, maybe Beth needs someone closer to her own age?” Claire hadn’t broached the baby subject with Emily in a few months. Her sister had no idea of the work she and Tony had been doing to get Claire ready to be pregnant.
Emily narrowed her gaze toward Claire. “If you’re talking about me, I think I’m done for a while.”
Claire laughed. “Well, since Beth’s barely a month old, I’d be shocked if you wanted to jump on that again.”
“Then I hope you’re suggesting a play group. Claire, you can’t be thinking of—”
Claire sat straighter. “Em, don’t do that. Don’t make everything an argument. You’re my sister. You’re supposed to be my friend, not my mother.”
Emily rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry, Claire. I’m tired and my filter is sleeping.”
“No,” Claire replied. “When it comes to me you don’t have a filter. Tony and I are planning to try for another child.”
Though her head moved back and forth, Emily remained silent.
“We’re not jumping into anything,” Claire continued. “We’ve been working with my doctors. I’m off all my medicines.” She noticed Emily’s eyes widen. “I have been for over a month. We’re supposed to wait a little longer, but the doctors are all on board and so is Tony.”
“Does that include Dr. Brown?”
“Yes, she was the first one I discussed it with. I still meet with her twice weekly and Tony’s been to a few of my sessions with her. We’re being careful. I’m doing fine. I feel good, and I mean that in the best of ways. I get happy and sad. It’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
Emily reached out and covered Claire’s hand. “I’m not your mother, but I’m your older sister. I can worry.”
“No, Em, you can’t. You have enough to concern yourself with John, Michael, and Beth. Worrying about me is not a priority. I have a fantastic family and life with Tony and Nichol. We’re ready to try to expand it. Tony even said that if the doctors decide I shouldn’t get pregnant, we could adopt.”
“Really?” Emily
’s tired eyes opened wide. “Anthony Rawlings is willing to raise someone else’s child?”
It was Claire’s turn to narrow her gaze. “What does that mean?”
“Hmm, nothing. I’m just surprised; that’s all.”
“Don’t you think it’s possible to love a child even if you weren’t the one to give birth to it?”
“You know I know it’s possible,” Emily replied.
“Then what’s the issue?”
Emily momentarily closed her eyes. “Claire, there’s no issue. If you’re truly doing this with the support of your medical team, I’m happy. I see how excited Nichol is with Beth. She’ll be thrilled to be a big sister.”
Absorbed in their conversation, neither Claire nor Emily saw the children approaching. “I’m gonna be a sister?” Nichol asked, her cheeks pink from sun and exercise and her eyes wide with questioning.
Claire reached out and rubbed Nichol’s back. “You’re all hot. Do you want some water?”
“Shannon’s getting some. Can we have a baby too?”
“Maybe someday, sweetie,” Claire answered. “Maybe someday. Right now you’re a big cousin. How do you like that?”
“I like it, a lot!”
Michael ran towards the table as the light on the small monitor flashed and the springtime air filled with the sounds of baby whimpers. “Mommy, baby Bef’s cry’n again!” Turning toward Claire he said, “Baby Bef cries a lot.”
“Oh, she does?”
Covering his ears, he said, “It’s bad. It hurts my ears.”
Nichol turned toward her cousin. “No, Michael, Baby Beff’s not bad. She wants Aunt Em’s tension.” She looked back at Claire. “Right, Momma? Just like my puppy. He wasn’t bad. He just wanted new batteries.”
Claire hugged Nichol and winked at Emily. “That’s right, sweetie, and listen, Michael. Beth’s sleeping again. Sometimes we all make cranky noises and say things we don’t mean when we’re sleepy.”
Emily shook her head. “Okay, Claire. I get it. Let’s talk about this later, after I’ve had a good night’s sleep. I know my opinion doesn’t matter. I’m sorry.”
“Your opinion matters. I just want your support.”
“You have it. I’ll be more excited after that good night’s sleep.”
Picking up her coffee, Claire commented, “So in about a year or so?”
“Yes,” Emily replied wearily. “Think about that before you do anything rash.”
Claire raised her brow.
“Are you willing to give up sleep?”
Nodding, Claire replied, “In a heartbeat to hold a little one again—my little one.”
The warm breeze continued to blow as the children ran back to their waiting soccer ball.
Late May
Phil
Phil looked over the FBI report. In a nutshell, it corroborated what he knew: the bureau confirmed that Patricia Miles had been living in a small rented house under an alias, Melissa Garrison, in Olivia, Minnesota. According to the report, she’d been working as a paralegal for Jefferson Diamond, a small-town attorney, doing research for the firm. Mr. Diamond claimed that one day she was at work and the next day she wasn’t. Few of her coworkers claimed a private relationship with her. Most people interviewed in town knew her from her job. They all claimed that she was quiet and kept mostly to herself. Ami Beech, Jefferson Diamond’s office manager, claimed that Ms. Garrison’s skills were impressive in the field of research and admitted to not completing the necessary background check prior to her hiring.
The small home Ms. Garrison rented contained physical evidence to link her to the Rawls-Nichols mailings. There were even pre-addressed cards. From her personal items, they were able to test her DNA. It too confirmed that Ms. Garrison, aka Patricia Miles, was the female who sealed the envelopes. For unknown reasons, Ms. Garrison had moved on. The FBI will continue their pursuit. At the end of the report, the bureau asked for continued assistance from all members of the Rawlings security team. They asked to be notified if anything unusual came up or another similar mailing arrived.
Phil handed the report to Eric, leaned back in his chair, and waited for a response.
After a few minutes, Eric’s eyes met Phil’s and he asked, “Gone. Sounds like no signs of foul play.”
“No, apparently not, at least not any mentioned in this report.”
Phil wondered if the FBI chose to be unforthcoming with the evidence of foul intentions toward Nichol or if they truly didn’t know the information that he and his team had learned. Either way, the report confirmed that the FBI’s suspect was missing and the bureau appeared to have no suspects or theories as to her disappearance.
Taylor sat back and waited. “I’d like to read that once you’re finished, Eric.”
He nodded as he continued to read.
Turning to Phil, she asked, “Do they have any theories as to why she’d disappear after trying to make a life?”
“No,” Phil replied. “Not officially. However, I spoke with my contact and the unspoken innuendo I picked up was that they believe Ms. Miles may’ve become suspicious that the FBI was getting close and decided to move on.”
“Is that what you think?”
Phil didn’t respond as his mind flashed back to that night in Olivia.
Taylor’s voice returned him to present. “Do either of you plan on telling me what happened?”
Eric shrugged. “I don’t know what you want to hear. It sounds like she’s moved on. I guess we just keep an eye out for her or new mailings. At least we now know for sure who we’re looking for.”
Taylor crossed her arms over her chest and wrinkled her brow. “I went to Olivia. I haven’t said a word to Mr. or Mrs. Rawlings and this is the way I’m treated. If you think I’m naive enough to believe this report at face value, you’ve seriously underestimated me.”
Eric stood and handed her the pages. “Read it, and see if you find something we missed.”
As she reached for the report, Eric’s gaze met hers and he whispered something Phil couldn’t hear. A cold chill filled the room as Taylor turned and met Phil’s frigid stare. A moment later the door to the security office closed and Phil and Taylor were alone. Taking the pages, Taylor silently went to the sofa and settled against the soft leather. Her blue eyes scanned each page. Occasionally she’d stop and reread a sentence or a paragraph. Phil wasn’t sure. He hadn’t heard exactly what Eric had said, but by the way she looked at them, he knew it was about Patricia.
What would she say or think if she knew what went on in Olivia? It wasn’t like her record was without blemish. The more Phil got to know Taylor, the more he knew that they were in many ways cut from the same cloth. Maybe that’s what bothered him the most. Eric accepted everything as part of his job, part of his responsibility. He rarely questioned. Phil knew that Taylor would want to know more. If the roles were reversed, he’d want more. After three weeks of wondering if he’d made the right decision, Phil still didn’t know. That contrary was something new. Never in the past had he second-guessed himself.
Phil turned his chair away from Taylor and watched the monitors. They were on a random feed from all around the estate. Since he’d taken over security, the cameras were more advanced than they had been. The new house also had fewer cameras within the rooms. The first floor was fully accessible to surveillance, even the Rawlingses’ office. That had been a point of contention with Rawlings when Phil first took over security, but Phil reminded him that the recorded conversation in his old office was the key to his innocence. They compromised. The office feed was only accessible with the proper dual code. Only Claire and Rawlings had access-to-one half of the code. Therefore, the office would only be reviewed if one of the Rawlingses and a member of the security team were both in agreement. The lawns, gardens, pool, playground, and all of the outside grounds were constantly monitored. The capability was present for the front gate to be either physically or remotely manned. No one could access the estate without being admitted and recorded
.
Phil closed his eyes and remembered.
Patricia’s eyes filled with tears. “What does that mean?”
“It means we’re leaving here. Say goodbye to Melissa Garrison.”
Phil pulled the gun from his pocket. Pointing it toward Patricia, he said, “You have two minutes.” In her left hand, she held tightly to her cell phone. He nodded toward it. “Place that on the table. Go. Get whatever you’d grab to leave. If you have cash hidden, I recommend you take it now. You’re not coming back.”
“I-I don’t have—”
“You do,” he said, “in the cupboard in the bathroom. Go now.”
She moved slowly, deliberating each word he’d said. Placing the phone down, she turned. “How do you know about the money?”
“Ms. Miles, I know much more than you’d think. I’ll explain it more once we’re gone.”
Suddenly, she walked briskly toward her bedroom. When Phil heard the door shut, he shook his head and followed. Though it was locked, the small key-like object rested predictably above the jamb. Entering the room, he found Patricia trying unsuccessfully to open the window. “It’s an old house,” he said calmly. “The windows have been painted too many times. Don’t be stupid. I’m not alone. Get the cash, some shoes, and a jacket.” He looked at his watch. “You now have one minute.”
“I’m not getting my money. If you’re going to kill me anyway, I’m not giving you my cash.”
“Fifty seconds, and I assure you, I don’t want or need your money. You will. Get it now.”
With ten seconds to spare, they stepped from the side door into the night air. “Lock the house,” Phil demanded.
She looked at him with the unspoken questions.
“It needs to look as if you’ve disappeared of your own volition. Locking the door is something you always do.”
Nodding, she placed the key in the lock; however, as she started to move toward the carport, Phil reached for her elbow and redirected her toward the driveway. “No, Ms. Miles, we have a ride.”
Taylor’s hand rested upon Phil’s shoulder pulling him from his thoughts and causing him to jump. As he turned he expected to see anger in her blue eyes; instead, it was sadness.
The Consequences Series Box Set Page 212