The cafe began to fill, yet Harry’s thoughts were still scattered when his phone buzzed.

  “WHERE ARE YOU? I WOKE UP AND YOU WERE GONE. (sad face)”

  “I’M AT THE OVEN ON WAVERLY. I DIDN’T WANT TO WAKE YOU.”

  “ARE YOU COMING HOME OR DO YOU WANT ME TO JOIN YOU?”

  Harry shrugged, thinking that he was leaning more toward option number three.

  “I THOUGHT YOU HAD PLANS TODAY WITH AMBER?”

  “SHIT! I FORGOT. WE CAN CATCH UP FOR A LATE LUNCH?”

  “SOUNDS GOOD.”

  He sighed as he laid the phone back on the table. Even though it was a Saturday, Harry knew he needed to work this out in his head. After Liz’s comment last night, he couldn’t ignore the facts any longer. They were discussing John’s decision to move to Iowa and work at Rawlings Industries.

  “I can’t understand how he can work for that company after all the things he’s said about Anthony Rawlings. I mean, it’s like working for the enemy,” Liz said.

  “According to John, he had every reason to hate his brother-in-law, but things change. I think he’s doing it more for Claire.”

  Liz huffed. “What is it with her? I mean people uproot their lives for her. I don’t get it.”

  “Liz, she’s ill. She has a daughter and needs help.”

  “Ill? Like what kind of ill?”

  Harry inhaled, “I really don’t know. I just know John said that Emily wouldn’t leave her, and he didn’t want to be away from Emily and Michael. Apparently, Rawlings Industries offered him a tremendous deal to move to Iowa City and work with their legal division.”

  “Yeah?” Her nose wrinkled. “I never thought of John as someone who’d sell out for money.”

  “I think the money was an incentive, but he did it for… family.” Harry was about to say for Claire but he didn’t want to keep that conversation going.

  “Well, Emily surprises me too. Did you see them while you were in Iowa?”

  Harry tried to process: he hadn’t told her he was in Iowa to visit Claire.

  Liz glanced at his expression. “I know you went there for the plea agreement. You didn’t have to hide it. Amber explained that it’s part of your job. SAC Williams went, too, didn’t he?”

  Breathing easier, Harry replied, “I wish my sister would learn to keep her mouth shut. She wasn’t even supposed to know. And yes, I saw Emily and John. They were surprised to see me at the hearing. They still don’t know my true job.”

  “Well, since the whole thing is over, why can’t you tell them?”

  “Because that’s the job. Being undercover means… being undercover. I can’t go back to all the places and people I’ve met and be like, oh, I wasn’t really who you thought I was…”

  Liz scoffed. “I get that, but how often are you you?”

  Harry’s light blue eyes clouded. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, for most of your assignments don’t you have some kind of alias? I hope you do. I don’t want to go through something like we did—ever again.”

  He remembered her terror after his attack. She handled it well at first, but there were nightmares and panic attacks that she tried to hide. Harry wrapped her in his strong arms. “Yes, you’re right. I’m not me on other assignments. All of my information is changed. There’s no way to get back to you, Jillian, Ilona, or Amber. You don’t need to worry.”

  Liz laid her head against his chest and the scent of strawberries rose from her hair. “I don’t think about it that much.” Veiling her big blue eyes with lashes, she looked up at him. “I don’t. Forget that I mentioned it. My point was that John and Emily know you. They know us, and Amber. Don’t you think they deserve to know—”

  “What? Don’t they deserve to know that my relationship with their sister was a job? I don’t see the reason to hurt them like that. They’re good people.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Besides, they’ve moved away. It’s not like you have to see them as regularly as you did when they lived here.”

  “Harry?” she asked shyly. “Can I ask you something?”

  He could tell by her voice that it was something he didn’t want to be asked. “Go ahead, but if it’s about the job, I can’t promise that I can answer.”

  “I don’t know if it’s the job or not. It’s about us.” When Harry didn’t respond, she went on. “Is there something you’re not telling me about Claire? You said she’s ill. I thought she was probably in jail. I figured with all of Anthony’s money, they’re keeping it covered up. I know Amber was pissed that she couldn’t find where he was charged with Simon’s death. I thought you were working on that—” Harry started to speak, but Liz went on. “—wait, I want to say this. I don’t even care anymore about you proving anything about Simon. I miss him, but I think Amber just needs to move on. I want to know if you really have. That’s my question.”

  His brows knitted together. “What’s your question?”

  “Have you really moved on? Do you not want the Vandersols to know that Claire was your assignment, because in reality she was more? Remember, I saw that picture of you two holding hands in Venice. Did you visit her in Iowa?”

  “I went to Iowa with SAC Williams. I saw the Vandersols and spoke with them as friends, but I was there on behalf of the FBI. There’s another case related to Rawlings coming up soon. I will probably go back there again. Claire’s been gone from here for over a year. I’m getting sick of having her constantly thrown in my face. You and Amber are the ones who keep bringing her up, not me.” Harry’s words flowed, but he’d said them before, or some version of them. His mind zeroed in on the picture. Liz had mentioned it a long time ago, but it had never registered like it did now.

  “Methinks he doth protest too much!”

  She stood to walk away when Harry grabbed her arm. “Tell me again who showed you that picture.”

  Pulling her arm away, Liz replied, “Hey, I’m not some criminal under interrogation! I told you before—Amber showed it to me. She knows what it’s like to have your boyfriend obsessed with someone else. After what happened, she didn’t want me setting myself up for another disappointment.” Her blue eyes pierced. “Is that what I’ve done, Harry? Are you just playing me? Rawlings is in prison. Maybe now is the time to make your move!”

  He saw her anger, the way her cheeks flushed, and the tone of her voice, but his reaction was off. He wasn’t Harry Baldwin, boyfriend. He was Harrison Baldwin, FBI agent. “You’re overreacting. I have no intentions of making a move on Claire. She told me off the last time I spoke to her—and for the record that was in Venice. I told her I was FBI. She was pissed off.”

  Tears coated Liz’s cheeks. “Y-you told her?”

  “Yes, I told her the truth and she hates me.”

  “W-why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  Harry reached for her hand. After a moment of hesitation, she surrendered it to his tender grasp. “Because it is my job. I wasn’t in Venice to pursue a relationship with her. You and I were back together. I don’t want to fuck this up, again. I was there to protect her. I can’t tell you any more, other than that she told me to get lost.”

  “So this is real. I don’t have to be afraid that you’ll go back to her? Wait…” She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “…why were you holding her hand?”

  “It was a set-up. She didn’t know about the FBI, yet. I needed that picture to show Rawlings. I really shouldn’t be talking about this. Besides, it all blew up in my face.”

  Liz wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “But you spoke with the Vandersols. They’ve been living here. They really don’t know the truth about you?”

  Harry shook his head.

  Liz continued, “I’m surprised. I mean, if I were going to move across the country to some remote place for my family, I’d expect that family to be honest with me. Why hasn’t Claire told them about you? I mean, who knows you like your family?”

  Harry had heard that before. He replied, “I think their family
has had a lot going on. I’m confident that the Vandersols are still in the dark.”

  Sitting with his empty cup of coffee, Harry lifted his phone as Liz’s question reverberated through his mind. Who knows you like your family?

  He accessed his contacts and called the one man who may be able to put his mind at ease. SAC Williams answered on the second ring. “Yes, Agent? What can I help you with?”

  “Sir, can I speak to you, in person?”

  “Can this wait until Monday?”

  Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. SAC Williams couldn’t see his anguish, but Harry knew it was evident. “I really need to speak to you today.”

  “All right, son, I can be at the office in an hour.”

  “Thank you. I’ll see you then.” Harry hung up the phone and stared at the empty cup. In the middle of the café filled with people, he prayed: Please God, let me be wrong.

  The FBI didn’t stop for weekends, yet depending on the caseload and schedule, many agents had the luxury of the occasional weekend off. Therefore, the San Francisco field office wasn’t as busy as it was during the week. Harry made his way to SAC Williams’ office. One rap on the door and he heard Williams’ voice.

  “Come in.”

  As Agent Baldwin entered, he said, “Thank you, sir, for taking the time to see me.”

  Williams’ forehead stretched. “What is it, son? You sound different.”

  “May I sit, sir?”

  Williams stood and walked around his desk, motioned to one of the chairs, and seated himself in the one beside it. As Harry sat down, Williams said, “You’re being way too formal. I’d think you were a new recruit if I didn’t know better. What’s happening?”

  “It’s about the Rawlings—”

  Williams’ expression of concern morphed to agitation. “How many ways do I need to tell you that it’s over—”

  “No, sir, I don’t think it is.”

  “Agent—”

  Harry interrupted again, “It isn’t about him, per se. SAC, do you remember when I was attacked? When they took Liz and threatened Jillian?”

  Williams relaxed against the chair. “Yes. Did you remember something new?”

  Harry shook his head. “What happened to my phone?”

  “I believe it was recovered but it was unusable. The perpetrators destroyed it.”

  “But you got all the pieces?”

  “Yes, the lab was able to access all your data.”

  “This is very important.” Harry moved to the edge of his chair. “Was the SD card found?”

  “I don’t remember, but now that you ask, I remember your being concerned about that. There was a picture, right?”

  “Right,” Harry agreed. “There was a picture that I took with the intention of showing it to Rawlings. I had a plan that obviously didn’t work, but in the picture I was holding Claire Nichol’s hand. SAC, did the bureau get that SD card? Does the FBI have that picture?”

  Williams shook his head. “Not to my knowledge. After what happened before between you and Mrs. Rawlings, I’m sure that if it would have materialized, the deputy director would have brought it to my attention.”

  Harry closed his eyes and fell back against the chair. With a shaky voice, he asked, “What do you believe happened to my SD card—based on what I’ve told you and what the FBI found?”

  Williams shrugged. “I could say that the FBI missed it at the scene, but honestly, I doubt that. The area was swept clean more than once. You’re one of us. We take the attack on you, as well as the threat to your daughter and ex-wife, very seriously. More than likely, I’d assume that the perpetrators took it. Who knows, maybe it was to be used as blackmail, but if you haven’t heard anything yet…”

  The rush of blood caused his ears to ring. Harry could no longer hear his supervisor. There was no other explanation. The words kept repeating: No one knows you like family—everyone has a past. It all pointed to one person: his sister. Could she have been the one to have him and Liz attacked? How else could she have gotten that picture? Who else would have known about Jillian?

  Oh God! Harry’s chest hurt.

  Why? Why would Amber have done that to him?

  Harry finally stilled the voices long enough to speak above their din. “Sir, I have a theory, one that I’d like the bureau to disprove.”

  If you don’t like something, change it. If you can’t change it, change your attitude.

  —Maya Angelou

  John made his way toward the courthouse for the third day of Catherine London’s grand jury trial. The grand jury was still hearing testimony and debating the evidence. It wasn’t their job to determine guilt or innocence, only if there was enough evidence for Catherine to stand trial. Since all grand jury proceedings were done in private, this was the one phase that the Rawlings Industries’ legal team didn’t need to fight to keep away from the press. However, there were many other probable sources of bad exposure. To that end, the Rawlings’ legal team, with the help of their newest member, had been successful in limiting the release of information during the preliminary phase. That didn’t stop the crowds of people from lining the cold steps of the US District Courthouse in Cedar Rapids. Many of the onlookers were hoping to get a glimpse of Anthony Rawlings. Though it was only speculation, if he were to be subpoenaed, the reporters didn’t want to miss his arrival.

  Since the list of possible witnesses wasn’t public, John wasn’t sure if Anthony would be asked to testify or not. He did know that it was one thing to indirectly work for his brother-in-law, but John wasn’t sure he was ready to see him and look him in the eye. The decision to take the job at Rawlings Industries had not been made lightly. John and Emily spent many hours and days discussing the pros and the cons. Without a doubt, Tim timed the offer perfectly. First, there was Emily’s desire to stay close to Claire and the court’s decision that kept her in Iowa. Then there was the salary. Tim’s offer made Anthony’s proposal from four years ago look like minimum wage. And while those reasons were enticing, it was the possibility of helping Claire and Nichol, helping to secure their financial future and the future of Nichol’s legacy that truly sold John. Well, that and Tim.

  Tim Bronson, the acting CEO of Rawlings Industries, was one of the most upfront and honest CEO’s that John had ever met. They’d met socially years ago, but time and responsibility had not only matured, but also added confidence and charisma to Tim’s demeanor. Despite all of the problems that Rawlings Industries was having with Anthony’s private life, Tim was steadfast and confident in the company and its future. Truly, John was impressed from the first lunch. Tim didn’t beat around the bush or try to avoid the giant elephant in the room. No, Tim laid it on the line.

  Standing and extending his hand as John approached him at the restaurant where they met, Tim said, “John, thank you for meeting with me. I know this isn’t a good time. I also know that you’ll be leaving town again soon, and I so wanted to discuss this offer with you in person before you did.”

  John shook Tim’s hand and had a seat. Being one of the nicer restaurants in the area, the waiter was present immediately, assessing the needs of the two men. Once he walked away, John responded, “I’m curious, Mr. Bronson, not to mention very surprised.”

  “Please, call me Tim. We’ve known each other for years. I’m not much into titles. I’m into this company. Despite decisions that Tony has made in his private life, his work ethic and business sense has always been spot on and impeccable.”

  John listened.

  “You have been very vocal about your feelings toward your brother-in-law. I respect that. From what I’ve seen, you’re a family man, and you feel that your family has been wronged.”

  John nodded, “My family as well as me.”

  It was Tim’s turn to nod. “Yes, Brent filled me in on some past history. I assure you, that the business side of Rawlings is and always has been separate from the personal side. I didn’t know about…” he hesitated “…well, any of the personal dealings.” H
e corrected. “I of course knew about Claire, that they were married. Sue and I were there. However, we didn’t know about any of the other things. I can honestly tell you that I wouldn’t have cared if he were my boss or not; I wouldn’t have been able to sit idly by if I had any idea—”

  John interrupted, “Please, Tim, I’ve heard all I want to hear about Claire and Anthony’s first marriage. I’ve read the book, and I don’t care to see the movie. I’ve heard the same thing from everyone. They did a good job keeping it hidden. Obviously, neither Emily nor I were aware. We can’t hold others accountable if we ourselves weren’t to blame. No matter the reason he did it or she didn’t tell, was their choice. I don’t have to agree, but I think I’ve come to terms with it. They remarried, and from all accounts, it was a mutual decision based on feelings versus contracts. I can only hope that at some time my sister-in-law was happy.”

  What John didn’t say—what he couldn’t say—was the why of how he’d come to terms with it. Ironically, it was the same reason Emily couldn’t. It was Claire. For a while the doctors questioned her ability to speak. Most of what she said was difficult to understand and jumbled. However, what she did say with some clarity was the name Tony. Over and over, especially while in a sleep-like state. It seemed like it was at those times, when she was absent in mind, that she was the most at peace. John couldn’t explain it, and Emily didn’t see it the same way, but there was something about seeing her during those times that touched John’s heart.

  “That’s what I want to discuss—Claire and Nichol.”

  John leaned forward, his voice lower than usual. “Tim, I respect you and what you’re doing for Rawlings Industries, but I will not discuss Claire’s condition nor will I allow Nichol to be part of the media circus that seems to surround Anthony.”