Behind His Eyes Convicted: The Missing Years

  The bile rose in John’s throat as he closed the book and laid it on the bedside stand. Little bits were all he could tolerate—it was too much. As he tried to settle for sleep, a line in Meredith’s book came back to him: as long as I was in control of my mind, Anthony Rawlings, or anyone else, would not have the ability to isolate me.

  He turned to Emily. “I didn’t think it was possible to hate him more than I did, but I do.”

  With her head on the pillow, she opened her tired eyes. “I hate that book. I told you not to read it.”

  “I couldn’t when she was missing, but now—”

  Emily sat up and kissed her husband. “Now, I think, may even be worse. She’s still missing.”

  John shook his head. “I just read something about her thinking she was in control—how she would never allow anyone to isolate her. I get it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I was in prison…”

  Emily nodded.

  “The loneliness was the most difficult part for me. I remember reliving so many conversations. It’s like you have this continual movie playing in your head. Sometimes I’d remember something you said that was funny, and I’d hear myself laugh. It felt wrong, yet right. It helped me.”

  “John, I’m so sorry…”

  “No, that isn’t my point. My point is that in this book she talks about remembering. Em, why isn’t she remembering now? How can we, or the doctors help her remember? I mean, she has a daughter!”

  “Shh,” Emily chided. “Let’s not wake that daughter up.”

  John exhaled. “Do you ever think about what we were doing while she was going through that shit—before?”

  Emily nodded and leaned against John’s chest. “I do. I especially did while reading that damn book. I wish I could say I think Meredith sensationalized it, but it’s a lot like what Claire told me. There are more details in the book…”

  “Yeah, I could do without those.”

  “Me too, but as long as the rest of the world knows them, I felt like I should too. John?” Her green eyes looked up.

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t think I can go back to California.”

  He closed his eyes and nodded.

  Emily continued, “I can’t leave her here in that state facility alone. I’m afraid if I go before his trial, somehow he’ll get out of it, and I need to keep her safe, keep him away from her and Nichol.”

  “I understand, but I have an obligation to SiJo and Amber.”

  “I know you feel indebted to them. Can we just take it a day or a week at a time?”

  John nodded. “Did I tell you that they called? I spoke with Amber and Harry. They’re both concerned. Amber told me to take as much time as I need.”

  Emily yawned. “She’s been great. What did Harry say?”

  “He asked if he could visit.”

  Her attention was once again focused on her husband. “He wants to visit? Us or Claire?”

  John shrugged. “Both, I think.”

  A smile fluttered across Emily’s lips. “Well, all right.”

  John’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you have that smirk?”

  “Because I like the idea of keeping that bastard away and allowing Harry to visit. If I could, I’d take pictures!”

  John hugged his wife’s shoulders and pulled her down to his pillow. “I’m glad we’re on the same team. You definitely have a wicked side.”

  “Don’t you think he deserves it?”

  It was John’s turn to yawn. “After what I just read, he deserves more.”

  “It was so nice of you to visit,” Emily said to Harry as she rocked Nichol.

  “Yes, I’m sorry we’re hidden away in this hotel suite,” John said, “but I’m sure you understand. We’re doing our best to keep Nichol out of the spotlight.”

  “I get it,” Harry replied.

  John sat back against the soft chair and watched as Emily lulled their niece to sleep. Although Harry wasn’t making it uncomfortable, it seemed odd to have him here with Claire’s baby. After all, there was a time when they’d all assumed he was the father. Looking at the tufts of dark hair making their way out of the soft blanket and back to the blue-eyed man with wavy blonde hair, there was no question: Harry was not Nichol’s father. Her resemblance to Anthony Rawlings was as unnerving as it was undeniable. The first time John looked into his niece’s big brown eyes, he shivered at the recognition. That was only the first time. From that point on, her eyes were hers and hers alone. The long lashes and round cheeks that turned crimson at the first sign of fussing were all Nichol—Claire’s daughter and their niece. Never could John bring himself to blame her for her father’s sins.

  “Amber couldn’t get away,” Harry said. “But she sends her love and support. She said to let you know that she understands allegiance to family. Take as long as you need John. Your job is waiting for you in California.”

  John nodded. “I spoke with her the other day. I can’t thank her enough for all that she’s done for us.”

  “Yes, after Claire left…” Emily began and stopped. “Oh, I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sleep-deprived that I’m talking without thinking. I’m sure you don’t want to talk about that.”

  “It’s all right. There’s nothing I haven’t already heard or thought about. It was a little uncomfortable for a while, but John wasn’t hired because he was Claire’s brother-in-law. He was hired at SiJo because of his ability.”

  “But you left SiJo right after that. I hope I wasn’t the cause. We miss you,” John said.

  “That wasn’t it at all. I missed police work. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to go back with the California Bureau of Investigation.”

  “It’s nice that you can still consult with SiJo. You obviously care a lot about your sister’s company,” John replied.

  The three of them chatted as Nichol slept contently in her aunt’s arms. It wasn’t until the subject of Claire’s current condition came up that the tension seemed to seep in from the corners of the room. It was one of the first times they’d discussed Claire outside of their legal team.

  “After what I’ve heard, I’m a little nervous to see her. My visit won’t upset her, will it?” Harry asked.

  Emily shook her head. “I doubt it. She probably won’t even realize you’re there.” Her voice turned stern. “Harry, we can trust you, can’t we?”

  “Of course you can.”

  “Very few people have been allowed to see my sister. It’s been solely for her protection. She’s not doing well. I know she wouldn’t want the media learning the truth about her state of mind.”

  Harry sat straight. “I would never talk to the media.”

  John smiled. “We know that. It’s just that we need to be sure. Please be careful about what you tell others too.”

  “Liz?” Harry asked.

  Emily nodded. “She’s nice enough around us—really she is. And I’m thrilled to see you happy, but I get the feeling she didn’t like or maybe even still doesn’t like Claire. I don’t blame her either. Amber told me that you dated Liz and broke up with her right before Claire moved to Palo Alto. But my point is that I would hate for you to say something to her that she might repeat to someone else. You know how it goes.”

  “I won’t. She doesn’t know I’m here.”

  John glanced at Emily’s wide eyes and back to Harry. “Why?”

  “You’re right. She isn’t a fan of Claire’s and I was worried. I hoped that you’d let me see her and tell me more about what happened, but Liz wouldn’t understand my concern. She’d think I was somehow trying to rekindle…” Harry’s voice faded.

  “Oh, how I wish you were,” Emily mused. “But Claire isn’t ready for anything like that. You’ll see when you visit.”

  “So, when you return, please don’t say anything about my visit,” Harry said.

  “No worries. I won’t,” John said. “And Emily doesn’t know when she’ll be back.”

  Emily smiled. “I can’t lea
ve Claire in the place where she is. I go there every day and so does John. In her condition, I worry about how she’d be treated if we weren’t on them, twenty-four-seven. And then there’s Nichol…”

  Harry’s blue eyes dulled. “A little girl…” His words trailed away not finishing his sentence.

  “Would you like to hold her?” Emily asked as she stood.

  “I’m not good with babies,” Harry admitted. “I’d better not. I have the feeling her parents wouldn’t approve.”

  Walking toward him, Emily lowered Nichol toward Harry’s lap. “They’re not here. We are and we approve. You’re a good friend and it’s sweet of you to travel all this way after what Claire did to you.”

  Hesitantly, Harry cradled his arms and accepted a sleeping Nichol. After a long gaze into the blankets, he looked up with his toothy grin. “She has her mommy’s nose and lips.”

  “She does,” Emily agreed, gleefully.

  “Her eyes?” Harry asked.

  John’s lips pressed together before he replied, “Are dark brown.”

  Acceptingly, Harry nodded. “I assumed. I just wondered.”

  Walking from the room, Emily’s voice was barely audible as she said, “I wish they were blue.”

  John tried to avoid Harry’s gaze as Harry shrugged with a sad smile.

  Since Claire was technically under arrest and not fit to be in a jail cell, the court moved her to a state-funded institution for further tests and treatment. The state institution required an array of clearances prior to visiting a patient. John and Emily had already filed the necessary authorization for Harrison Baldwin. All that was needed on his part was to show his identification and sign the visitor’s log.

  Each step down the corridor filled John with dread. As much as he hated the old hospital room where Claire had been, he hated this new place more. There were noises and murmurings coming from the closed doors along the hall. Because Claire still had her pending charges, her room was beyond more locked doors. However, her room was empty. Hurriedly, John searched, finding her in a common area. She was sitting in a wheelchair, still dressed in her hospital gown with her hair a tangled mess.

  John’s face burned as anger built behind his deceptively calm facade. He turned to the attendant. “Why the hell is she out here?”

  “All patients get time out of their rooms.”

  Harry stood helpless as John took the lead and knelt before Claire. “Good morning, Claire.”

  She didn’t look his way. Her eyes were fixed on the bar-covered window.

  John continued, “I think it’s a good thing your sister isn’t here right now. I’m taking you back to your room.” He looked back up at the attendant. “Has she eaten? How about a shower?”

  “I just get them from their rooms. Don’t ask me.”

  Before John could respond, Harry said, “Don’t ask you? Then who the hell is he supposed to ask? Can’t you see she needs help?”

  The young man put up his hands. “Back off, dude, or I’ll call security. You think they’d let me shower female patients?” He chuckled. “It’d sure make this job better.” Then he shook his head and slowed his words, as if that made for better comprehension. “I just get them and bring them here. That’s my job.”

  “Well, I’m taking her back to her room,” John announced.

  Harry followed as John pushed the wheelchair. Once they were with Claire behind her closed door, John fought the emotion. “Harry, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to see her like this.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  John reached for the brush. “Emily will be here later. In the meantime, I’ll brush her hair.”

  Harry ran his hands through his blonde mop and looked out the small, rectangular window, five feet above the floor. “She can’t even see out these windows.” It was more an observation than the start of a conversation. “She loves sunshine.”

  John listened as he gently tugged against the tangles, smoothing his sister-in-law’s sun-lightened hair. “I don’t know exactly where they were, but when everything first happened, Claire was suntanned. It’s starting to fade.”

  Harry nodded.

  “Thanks for coming. This is really hard.”

  “Do you need help?”

  John looked up and smiled. “Not with brushing her hair… all of it is hard. I hate leaving Emily here to deal with it alone.”

  “She won’t be coming back to California, will she?”

  John shrugged. “She said she wants to take it a day or week at a time, but I don’t think she will. I don’t think she’ll leave Claire, not like this.”

  “Claire was the one who left you guys—twice,” Harry reminded.

  “She’s family. No one knows you like your family. The past is…” He looked back down at Claire. Her closed eyes appeared as though she were sleeping, but the slight twist of her neck that gave the right amount of resistance to work out the tangles told him she was awake. “…the past. We know it, but we can’t let that stop the future. It’s the right thing to do.”

  You never find yourself until you face the truth.

  —Pearl Bailey

  “We’re meeting with Judge Temple in his chambers, but there’s something you should know.” Brent said, as he and Tony rode to the courthouse. “He agreed to this meeting with a few stipulations.”

  “What kind of stipulations?” Tony asked.

  “He demanded equal representation. He refused to meet with us without the claimants being present or at least their representation.”

  Tony’s brows furrowed. “So?”

  “Jane will be there.”

  “And John?”

  “I don’t know for certain. When I spoke with the judge, I tried to emphasize that John’s presence wouldn’t be beneficial to this situation.”

  “I don’t give a damn who’s there, as long as the end result is that I get to see my wife and daughter. It’s not like John and I will get in a brawl.”

  “I’d hoped that wasn’t an option but, nevertheless, I’d rather that this meeting not morph into a hostile environment. I don’t want you saying anything that can be misconstrued. Recently, the momentum has shifted in your favor. Since showing the video from your home office to Evergreen and the ICPD, your defense has taken an upward swing. Even though your pending charges aren’t relevant regarding this restraining order, I don’t want anything that may potentially negate the progress we’ve accomplished.”

  Tony huffed under his breath. “I want to see my wife. Despite what Roach is saying about her medical prognosis, I think that I can reach her—snap her out of whatever has happened. I’ll fuck’n do whatever I need to do to get me to her.” He turned toward the window, not watching the scenes of the city pass before him. His back straightened. “The damn state has her, Mrs. Anthony Rawlings, in a state-run mental hospital.” He turned back, the brown of his irises almost completely overwhelmed by black. “That’s absurd! I want her home where she can be cared for properly. She deserves the best doctors money can buy, not some state institution—”

  “Home probably isn’t an option, yet.” Brent interrupted. “She’s been officially charged with attempted murder, but I agree: getting her moved to a private facility would be better. I think Emily may even agree with you on that.”

  “Imagine that,” Tony replied sarcastically. “I think it may be the first time in the history of mankind that we’ve ever agreed—monumental day.”

  Brent narrowed his eyes. “That type of remark is why I don’t want you and the Vandersols together in Judge Temple’s chambers.”

  “Vandersols?” Tony emphasized the last letter. “As in Emily, too?”

  “Remember…” Brent reminded him, “…they didn’t balk when the state dropped the false imprisonment charges against you and charged Catherine.”

  Changing the subject, Tony said, “After this meeting, I plan to get Nichol. I’ve hired a nanny and have a nursery at my temporary apartment ready, as well as a room for the nanny.”

>   “Yes, I think that should show the court that you’re capable and willing.”

  “Hell, yes, I’m willing and I’m more than capable. I can take care of her myself, but I thought with everything pending, the nanny would be a good idea.”

  “Well, if things go the way we hope, she’ll come home with you today.” Looking away from his notes, Brent asked, “When will the repairs be done on your home? I haven’t seen it since they started.”

  “A couple more weeks. The fire damage was mostly limited to the first floor of the southwest corridor. However, the water and smoke damage was more widespread. Everything has to be cleaned. That smell of smoke is difficult to remove.”

  “I read the fire investigator’s report. The fire originated in Catherine’s suite. She’s not talking. Do you have any idea what she was trying to accomplish?”

  “The woman’s crazy. According to the fire chief, there were remnants of melted electronics and plastic in her fireplace. Claire told me that the reason she left last fall and started running was because Catherine produced her laptop, the one taken before her attack by Chester. It pisses me off that I had everyone searching for that damn laptop and it was in my house the whole time. Catherine told Claire that it was my way of tricking her into returning to Iowa.”

  Brent listened as the car moved in slow bursts, indicating they were nearing their destination.

  “I hate that she believed her,” Tony admitted, “but I also understand. Claire was frightened for Nichol. Truthfully, I had no idea what had happened to it.” Tony sighed. “I think she successfully used that laptop against both of us. Showing it to Claire scared her. Not knowing its whereabouts had me on edge.”

  “Do you think she was burning evidence? Do you think she knew everything was caving in around her?”

  “I think she burnt the laptop. I have no idea what she was thinking. I’d say she knew I was no longer falling for her bullshit.”

  “Why start the house on fire?”