THE STACK OF mail on Claire’s desk looked daunting; nevertheless, she dove into it with renewed vigor. In all the previous years of their marriage and before, she hadn’t been involved in the day-to-day operations of the estate. Now that it was hers, she wanted to do all she could and truly be hands on. In all honesty, she enjoyed the quiet time spent in their home office doing something productive. Although she was no longer forecasting life-threatening hurricanes—meteorology was more than likely gone from her future—Claire was doing more than she’d ever done before. Her work kept the estate running, which was a far cry from the idle hours she’d spent in the past. Besides, the name on the deed to the estate was hers: Claire Nichols Rawlings. She had every right to make the decisions, and it was one less thing for Tony to worry about.
Since last fall, her husband had been busy becoming re-acclimated to Rawlings Industries. His two-year absence from the daily operations of his multiple corporations and financial endeavors required quite a bit of catching up. Even so, whenever possible, Tony chose to work from home. His devotion and commitment to plunge back into his life was not limited to Rawlings Industries. Tony wanted to spend as much time as possible at home with his wife and daughter. That was why, when faced with a full return to Rawlings Industries, he decided to share the CEO position with Tim Bronson. Tim had handled things exceptionally well in Tony’s absence; it only seemed right to keep him involved.
With Nichol and Shannon playing upstairs, Claire settled into her plush desk chair and took on the two weeks’ accumulation of mail. Before she could make a dent, there was a knock on the door. Giggling to herself, Claire thought, it wasn’t Nichol: she didn’t knock. It was just another of her many father-like traits. “Come in,” she called, expecting Shannon.
“Claire…” Phil’s voice caused Claire to look up. “…I wanted to catch you before you went through the mail. I was just told that today’s delivery was brought in here before I could go through it.”
Phil wasn’t only Claire’s bodyguard and head of the estate’s security: he was also her friend. With their long history, Claire recognized something in his tone that filled her with a sense of foreboding.
“Why?” she asked. “We haven’t received any more threatening letters or packages since before the trip. Have we?”
Phil pressed his lips together. Golden flecks glistened in the hazel eyes that peered knowingly at her through squinted lids. With a furrowed brow, he replied, “I would’ve thought you knew. Haven’t you spoken to Rawlings? He said he was going to tell you.”
Claire thought back to their time alone since coming home. It had only been one day, and honestly, last night there was very little talking. She worked to keep the blush from her cheeks as she remembered just how little talking they’d done the night before. Prior to that, they’d both been too busy doing other things or with Nichol. Discussions about the threatening mailings they’d received didn’t exactly seem like good family-dinner conversation. “I’ve spoken with him, but I guess we didn’t get a chance to talk about it, and he was gone this morning before I woke.”
Phil took a deep breath and motioned toward one of the chairs opposite Claire’s desk. “Do you mind?”
Straightening her shoulders, Claire shook her head. “I don’t mind your taking a seat. I’m a little nervous that you think this conversation requires that.” She feigned a smile. “Or maybe you just want to catch up? Tell me that’s all it is. I’ll have some coffee brought in and we can chat.”
Phil shook his head. “Catching up sounds nice, but I have a lot to do right now. First thing after our chat, I need to go through that stack of mail—”
Claire leaned forward on her desk, and interrupted, “Fine, tell me. Tell me why you are concerned, and don’t tell me you aren’t. I hear it in your voice.”
“Claire, I’m sure Rawlings wanted to be the one to tell you. I’ll just take a quick look at that stack and leave you alone.”
Claire eyed the large pile of letters. Most were regular sized; a few were larger. There were a couple of thicker envelopes. Squaring her shoulders she turned back. “Phil, the packages that we’ve received in the past have been addressed to me, or to Claire Nichols-Rawls, so I deserve to know what else has been delivered. I deserve to know what progress has been made. Just because Tony hasn’t mentioned it—yet—doesn’t negate my right to know. Besides,” she added with a grin, “I thought you worked for me.”
His shoulders relaxed as he exhaled. “You know I do.”
Her emerald eyes sparkled, knowing she’d won. “Then tell me.”
Claire watched the deliberation he wasn’t voicing as Phil shifted slightly in his seat. Each second of silence added to her concern. Finally, he spoke. “You see, we’ve talked about it. I just don’t want to upset you, not after everything you’ve been—”
“Stop,” she said softly. “I’m not going to break. I’ll admit, I came close, but it won’t happen. Truly, Phil, I’m good. Not knowing scares me more than knowing. I honestly don’t think that Tony intended to keep whatever this was from me. By the time we had a chance for some privacy last night, well, we were both exhausted. I mean, we all were and still are. We’ve only been home a little over twenty-four hours.”
She pushed her chair back and stood, motioning toward the mail. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll go get some coffee. You knock yourself out with the mail, but first, tell me about the last threatening mailing we received and what you know.”
Phil nodded. “It came here, to the estate, while we were all in the South Pacific. Eric and I knew about it right away. We didn’t say anything until after the FBI finished their tests. It was clean: no explosives, no chemicals.”
Claire pondered. “While we were gone? When did you tell Tony?”
“After we had the results.”
“Phil, when did you tell Tony?” She emphasized the word.
It was one thing for Tony not to mention it if he’d only learned about it yesterday. It was quite another thing if he’d known about it longer—a lot longer.
“It was right before Christmas.” He hastened to add, “Everything was fine. There was no threat and no reason to worry you when you had so much going on. God, Claire, it was Christmas. Not exactly the time you want to hear about any of this.”
“I don’t care if it’s my birthday—I deserve to know.”
She walked to the front of the desk, stood before Phil and took a deep breath. This was definitely a matter she and Tony would be discussing. Softening her tone, she continued. “We—you and I—have been through a lot. I can’t thank you enough for your devotion to me, Tony, and Nichol.”
At the mention of her daughter’s name, she saw Phil’s expression momentarily change. It was almost too fast to discern. A second later it was gone. Claire’s stomach turned. “Wait. Something was different about the last mailing, wasn’t it? Oh, my God.”
The temperature of the room fell; the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. “Tell me it wasn’t addressed to Nichol.”
Phil shook his head. “I can’t.”
The trembling came from nowhere. Suddenly, the cozy home office was a bleak frozen tundra.
His tone was more her friend than security. “This is why Rawlings wanted to be the one to tell you.”
Claire nodded and sunk into the chair beside Phil. She had gotten used to being targeted by some psycho. She’d been to hell and back more than once. She could take it, but this was different. This was Nichol. As fast as the trembling came, it subsided, and Claire’s protectiveness surged forward. In a voice stronger than she truly felt, Claire said, “Find this person. You said the DNA points to a woman, right?”
“Yes.”
“She’s not in the database of known offenders?”
“Correct.”
Leaning forward, Claire reiterated, “If some bitch wants to come after me, fine. I’ll take her on. But threaten my daughter, in any way? Hell no! I want her gone.” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t care what
you have to do. You have my total support. Whatever resources you need, no holds barred.” Claire reached for Phil’s arm. “Please, assure that she’s no longer a threat to Nichol.”
Phil’s back straightened. “You don’t need to ask. I’d rather you didn’t. The less you know, the better.”
Claire nodded and stood again. “I’m going to get some coffee. Help yourself to the mail, but if you find something, tell me.”
Phil grinned.
“What?” she asked suspiciously.
“Well, Mrs. Alexander…”
Claire smiled at the reference from their past.
Phil continued, “…I believe that once again I’ve seriously underestimated you. Maybe someday I’ll learn that you’re tougher than I think.”
“One more thing, Phil, what was in the mailing to Nichol?”
“There were two. The first was a card addressed to Nichol Rawls. The second was a gift, a birthday gift addressed to Nichol Rawlings.”
Her brow wrinkled. “Why were they different and what kind of birthday gift?”
“We don’t know. The gift was a doll. I didn’t think much of it until I saw the one you gave her for Christmas. It looked very similar, very much like Nichol herself.”
“I had that one made by a private company.”
Phil nodded. “We’ve traced this one. It’s a cheaper version, made by a company that takes online and mail orders. They advertise in magazines all over the world. The person who placed the order used your name and address. The credit card was a refillable card purchased in New York with cash.”
Claire had researched some of the less expensive doll-makers. Even they required a picture. Through the years, Emily and John, and more recently, Tony and Claire, had done their best to keep Nichol’s picture out of the public eye. “That still means they know what Nichol looks like, that they have her picture.” Phil’s words continued to process in her mind. “New York?” Claire asked. “Where in New York?”
“New York City.”
“We’re planning on taking Nichol there next month. We have tickets to see The Lion King.”
“New York City is huge and filled with millions of people. Between Eric, me, and the rest of the security detail, no one will come near you or Nichol. Don’t even concern yourself.”
Standing taller, Claire assessed the situation. “Thank you.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
Her green eyes shimmered. “You know that isn’t true. You’ve done a lot, and I believe you’re not done. I told Tony that I loved the feeling of security on the island. That’s true. But in reality, it isn’t just the island. It’s him, it’s you, it’s Eric, and it’s everyone. We’re truly blessed to have so many people who sincerely care about our well-being. Whatever you need, ever, it’s yours.”
Phil nodded. “I need to look at your mail.”
As Claire was about to leave the office, she asked, “Would you like some coffee? I was sincere when I said that we need to catch up. Things have been wild with the trip to the island.”
“Maybe another time,” Phil said. “I want to go through the mail, get out of your way, and go have a few words with the person who delivered today’s mail to you before letting me see it. I think it would be better if I get to him before Rawlings.”
Her smile broadened. “See, that’s another reason why I trust you. You’re always a step ahead.”
LATER THAT NIGHT, Claire glared at her husband as they made their way into their private suite.
“You know, you’re not nearly as good at hiding your anger as you used to be,” Tony said with a devilish grin.
“Well, maybe it’s because I’m not trying to hide it.”
“I’ve been home for hours. We’ve had dinner with Nichol and had a snowball fight in the backyard. I have no idea what you’re upset about.” He cocked his head to the side. “It’s that you lost the snowball fight, isn’t it?”
Claire put her hands on her hips. “No. It isn’t about the snowball fight. Besides, I didn’t lose. It isn’t even what you’ve done. It’s what you didn’t do.” She stood taller. “We promised to be honest. You haven’t been honest.”
Tony’s brows knit together. “I believe I’m at a disadvantage in this conversation. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Think, Tony. Did something happen while we were in paradise that you forgot to mention?”
It didn’t take Tony long until he muttered under his breath, “Damn Roach.”
“No, don’t blame him. It’s you who dropped the ball. Phil thought I already knew. He said that you said you’d tell me.” Her volume rose. “Nichol is my daughter too. Tell me, Tony. Tell me why I didn’t know about her birthday card and gift from the psycho person?”
He collapsed onto the soft leather sofa in front of the fireplace. The newfound tension in their suite was a completely different atmosphere than the one only the night before. “I was going to tell you, but the time was never right.”
She paced the open space. “I agree. There’s never a good time to say, ‘Oh, by the way, the psycho lunatic who’s sending you cards and packages is now addressing them to our daughter.’ Nevertheless, just say it.”
Tony reached for Claire’s hand and tugged her toward him. “It was her birthday, Christmas, and as you may recall, we were almost constantly surrounded by people—lots of people.” He pulled his wife down onto his lap.
“No, Tony.” She stiffened as he held her near. “I’m mad at you. I don’t want you to change the subject. I want you to be totally open with me. If you’re not… Well, I don’t know.”
His arms wrapped around her as she yielded her position and settled against his chest. The rhythmic breathing and steady heartbeat against her back served as a constant drumming that relaxed her nerves and calmed her anxiety. His lips brushed her neck. “I’m being honest. I was going to say something. The time just wasn’t right. We need more time like this, more time alone.”
Claire turned in his embrace. She wanted to see his emotions: she needed to know he took this as seriously as she. “The doll, it was one of those twin ones. Tony, before I ordered Nichol’s, I looked at all the different companies. They all require pictures. This person had a picture of Nichol. If she didn’t, she couldn’t have had the doll made.”
With each word his eyes darkened.
Claire continued, “I know it can’t be proven as a threat, but I think it was meant that way. This woman is telling us that she knows what Nichol looks like. She knows her birthday.”
“I know all of that. Roach, Eric, and I’ve talked about it. Roach has been in contact with the FBI. They know all of this. We’re doing all we can do. You aren’t going anywhere without me or Roach; neither is Nichol.”
“What about New York?” Claire asked.
“Roach told me that the credit card was purchased there,” Tony replied as he looked deeply into her eyes. “If you don’t want to go next month, we won’t.”
“We already have tickets—”
“I don’t give a damn about a few tickets. Hell, we’ll go back to paradise if that’s what you want.”
Exhaling, Claire lost her battle, allowing her anger to fade away and melting into her husband’s embrace. Sighing, she said, “No. If we do that, this woman wins. That’s not happening.”
“I’ve been thinking about something, ever since that gift. I’ve talked a little to Roach about it, but I wanted to talk to you.”
Claire turned back around to face her husband. She tried to read his expression and saw apprehension. “What?” she asked.
“I’m thinking about adding another member to our intimate security.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“You haven’t even heard my idea.”
“Tony, I want family time. I want it to be just us. I’m comfortable with Phil and Eric. We also have Shannon. I don’t want anyone else.”
“I was thinking about a woman. Roach has identified some incredibly qualified fem
ale ex-military and ex-field agents who could be with you when he can’t.”
Claire shrugged. “When Phil can’t, you can. I don’t know if you remember, but I spent over a month alone with Phil. There aren’t a lot of secrets.”
Tony bristled. “I’m aware, and I’ll be forever grateful that he kept you safe during that time. My thoughts were that this woman wouldn’t replace him: she’d assist him.”
“You’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you?” Claire fell back onto her husband’s chest in defeat. This openness was all for show. Anthony Rawlings was the same man he’d always been. His decision was the only one that mattered.
“No,” Tony whispered. “I haven’t. I’ve only discussed it with Roach. If you don’t want this, we won’t do it. I just thought there might be times when you and I and Nichol may all need to go in different directions. This woman could help with that too.” His lips brushed her hair as the scent of his cologne wafted through the air. “I love you. I love Nichol. I worry about both of you. Your safety and security are my primary concerns.”
The tension eased from her muscles as her body liquefied against him. “Really? You haven’t already started hiring someone. You truly want my input?”
“Really,” he whispered, as he nuzzled her collarbone. “I mentioned it to Roach. He’s found a few viable candidates. No one has been contacted. I wanted your input first.”
Allowing her husband more access, Claire tilted her head and closed her eyes. His prickly cheeks abraded her soft skin. The sensation was like a spark to dry kindling, warming her and infusing her with the fire of desire she’d purposely tried to subdue. “Can I think about it?” she asked.
He nodded, striking the match with each movement of his head. His intention grew as her internal flames intensified. “If that’s what you want to do…” His words came breathily against her exposed skin. “…then by all means, my dear, think.”
Thinking, however was not what she wanted to do at the moment.
Memories are the key not to the past, but to the future.