Convicted

  Phil secured their new identifications and accompanied them through the multiple TSA check points. Not once was his documentation questioned, as they safely re-entered the United States. Claire’s wig was short, and Tony’s contacts made his eyes a shade of green. Their travel clothes mimicked those of everyone else, and they traveled economy class. Although Nichol didn’t wear a disguise, the four blended well into the anonymous masses.

  Before they left their haven, Claire hugged Francis and Madeline and promised their safe return. The couple didn’t know the ins and outs of the Rawlings’ legal issues. They did know they’d all grown fond of one another, and Nichol was the light of their world. Tony explained that he had created a trust fund that would assure the island retreat’s financial solvency. He assured Francis and Madeline everything would remain flush until they returned.

  They both promised the couple, that their return would be sooner rather than later. Claire’s heart broke as Madeline’s large tears dampened her shoulder during their farewell. She knew if it wasn’t her sister’s life at stake—she’d never have left their island.

  It took two full days flying commercial, but finally, they arrived in Cedar Rapids. It was late at night—after midnight, and thankfully, the airport was quiet, calm, and uneventful. After spending six months in the tropics, the cool March Iowa air chilled Claire to her bone. She shivered in the back seat of the van Phil had arranged to have waiting. With each shiver, Claire covered Nichol with another blanket.

  While Phil drove, Tony reached over the baby seat and held Claire’s hand. “You’re trembling. Are you all right?”

  “I think I’m just cold.”

  Rubbing her gloved hand, he moved it to his lips. “No one noticed us, Mrs. Rawlings. You can relax.”

  She exhaled and watched her breath create a frozen mist. “I can’t believe we’re going to show up on Courtney and Brent’s doorstep. I’m excited to see them, but what will they say? We lied to them.”

  Tony and Phil’s eyes meet in the rear-view mirror. Claire asked, “What? If there’s something, tell me—I’m sick and tired of secrets.”

  Tony squeezed her hand and tried to explain, “Knowledge is leverage for the law. Right now, I’m wanted and you’ve been harboring me. If the Simmons’ were caught communicating with either of us, they could be charged with aiding and abetting a fugitive.”

  “Then let’s stay in a hotel. I don’t want to put them at risk.”

  This time, Phil answered, “Claire, they want you there.”

  “But, how? How would they know?”

  Tony replied, “They’ve known since before you and I met up in paradise. Brent’s known you’re alive since the FBI questioned me. The authorities wouldn’t allow him to share. Of course, he told Courtney.”

  “All these months! Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been berating myself over lying to my family and friends. Do Emily and John know the truth?”

  Tony’s tone became businesslike. “If you’d have known—you would have wanted to communicate, and no, it made more sense for the Vandersols to remain in the dark.”

  Claire stared.

  Tony continued, “We’d hoped their pursuit of me and Rawlings Industries would keep them safe—that as long as they were helping to hurt me—we hoped that Catherine would leave them alone.”

  Tears coated Claire’s cheeks as she turned toward the dark, dead landscape. Thankfully, there wasn’t any snow, but each tree along the way was leafless and the fields were empty and dark. Claire wasn’t sure why she was crying. Perhaps it was exhaustion or stress. Maybe it was anticipation at seeing Brent and Courtney and John and Emily again.

  Her thoughts evaporated as her husband’s hand reached for her chin. With his thumb and forefinger, Tony turned her gaze toward him. Through the darkness of the van she saw his clenched jaw. “Can you please be mad at me later? We’ve got a lot going on.”

  Not trying to move away from his determined tone, Claire closed her tired eyelids causing more tears to rush down her cheeks, and explained, “I’m not mad. You’re right—I would’ve thought about calling daily. After Nichol was born, I probably would’ve done it—even if I knew I shouldn’t.” Claire used her gloves to wipe her face. “I’m tired and scared.”

  Tony reassuringly took her gloved hand in his. Phil interjected, “The Simmons know about Nichol, and they can’t wait to meet her. Emily and John aren’t due to arrive until tomorrow afternoon.”

  Tony smiled and said, “We’ll get some sleep and you’ll feel better.” His devilish grin reappeared as he whispered, “Or not sleep?”

  Claire shook her head. “I’m afraid our princess won’t understand the time change. We may spend the night up—in shifts—with her.”

  Still holding his wife’s hand, Tony shrugged, leaned against the vinyl seat, and sighed. “That’s not quite the up I was imagining.”

  Claire’s eyes darted toward the rear-view mirror. Courteously, Phil appeared lost in his own thoughts, unable to hear the whispers which only moments earlier he’d answered. Claire shook her head and peered under the blankets at a sleeping Nichol. With a weary smile, she placed one hand over their daughter, and enjoyed the sensation of her little chest moving up and down.

  For a moment, Claire envied Nichol’s ignorance. As long as she was fed, clean, and loved—their daughter didn’t know the evils that lurked in the shadows. With her other hand, Claire clung tightly to Tony. Closing her eyes, she said a prayer to keep her family safe.

  Friends show their love in times of trouble, not in happiness.

  —Euripides

  Forty-eight hours of traveling took its toll—Claire must have fallen asleep because, when she opened her eyes, Phil was pulling the van into the Simmons’ garage. Even in the dark of night, she recognized the brick drive. Inside the garage directly in the beams of the headlights, Claire saw Courtney and Brent. Her heart leapt. “Oh! I can’t believe we’re really here.” Turning to see Tony’s face, she read a hundred emotions. Happiness or even relief didn’t seem to be the top contenders. She asked, “Aren’t you happy to be here?”

  “I am.” He squeezed her hand. “I just realized the last time I saw or spoke to Brent we discussed something I’d rather forget. He probably told Courtney—” The van stopped as did Tony’s words. Claire watched Brent hit the button to close the door as she and Tony reached for their handles.

  Phil stopped them. “Don’t open the van doors until the garage is closed. I don’t think we were followed—I took a lot of back roads, but you can’t be sure their house isn’t being watched.”

  The reality of their situation came rushing back with the familiar pounding behind Claire’s temples. She’d taken some acetaminophen during their last layover before Iowa, but that was hours ago and the dull ache was becoming a nonstop pound. Trying to relieve the tension, she rolled her neck right then left. She wasn’t thinking, or she wouldn’t have done that in front of Tony.

  “Do you have a headache?”

  Claire smiled and shook her head. Telling him wouldn’t make her feel better, and she knew how much he hated her headaches. They reminded him of a time long ago. “I’m fine; what did you two talk about?”

  Before he could answer, Phil had his door open and Courtney was rushing toward the van. Claire’s door sprang open, and without warning, she was swallowed in Courtney’s hug. “I’m so glad you two came here! Let’s get you in the house where it’s warm.”

  Freeing herself from her best friend’s embrace, Claire interjected, “Thank you for letting us come...all three of us!” Tony had unbuckled the baby seat. Claire moved it to her lap, pulled back the blankets, and revealed their daughter. The biggest brown eyes stared up toward her mother’s voice.

  “She’s beautiful!” Courtney squealed.

  Tony was now to Claire’s door. “May we introduce Nichol Courtney Rawlings?”

  Courtney put her hand to her lips as tears moistened her eyes. “Nichol Courtney?”

  Tony nodded as a proud smi
le emerged.

  Courtney hugged Tony and whispered, “We’ve missed all of you.”

  Brent put out his hand. Though Tony had worked to mask whatever he was feeling, Claire saw a micro expression of relief as the two men shook hands. She wondered again what they’d discussed, many months ago.

  Within the warmth of the kitchen, Claire removed Nichol from her seat while Phil casually asked where he could retire. Claire’s pulse quickened when Brent said, “Mr. Roach, let me show you to your room. Tony, would you like to join us for a minute?”

  Although Tony showed no outward signs of concern, Claire knew from his earlier comment there may be need. As the three men disappeared, she wondered what they needed to discuss. If it was about Emily or Tony, then Claire wanted to know. Courtney’s voice brought Claire back to present. “We had no idea you named her after me.” Her blue eyes glistened as she asked, “May I hold her?”

  “Her name’s a long story, but Courtney was a name we both agreed upon. You’ve always been so good to both of us. Of course you can hold her; let me change her first.”

  Courtney couldn’t pry her eyes away from Nichol. “I don’t mind. Oh my, Claire, look at those eyes.”

  Placing her daughter in her best friend’s arms, Claire replied, “Aren’t they beautiful? Just like her daddy’s.”

  Claire followed Courtney through the house to one of their guest rooms. The men were nowhere in sight. Hearing Courtney talk on and on loosened the tight muscles in Claire’s shoulders and relieved the pain behind her temples.

  “I’m so glad Mr. Roach contacted Brent,” Courtney said.

  “Cort, you do realize this is illegal, right?”

  “Honey, I’d break any law to have you here, safe and sound.”

  Claire added, “And Tony?”

  Courtney nodded before she closed the bedroom door, and asked in a hushed tone, “We don’t have a lot of time before the men get back. You promised you’d be honest with me.”

  “I know”—Claire looked down—“I’m sorry about the way I left. Do you know about Catherine?”

  “Yes, Mr. Roach filled Brent in on everything. We understand what you did and why you did it. Who would’ve ever imagined, sweet Catherine? We’ve been careful to never let on to anyone what we know. Mr. Roach said the FBI’s still working to put it all together.”

  Claire listened as she changed Nichol and settled into a plush chair to feed her.

  “I’m sorry,” Courtney said. “Do you want me to leave?”

  “I don’t think I’d invite Brent in”—Claire joked—“but I’m fine with you.”

  Glancing toward the door, Courtney lowered her tone. “I want you to know, we really are glad you’re here and safe. I don’t want to upset you, but I have to know.”

  Claire braced herself for something. She didn’t know what; perhaps it was about what Tony had said. “What do you need to know?”

  “Are you sorry?”

  “Am I sorry? That I left without telling anyone?”

  Courtney leaned forward. “No, are you sorry you allowed Tony back in your life? Is it truly different? You know, than the first time...”

  The trip had been exhausting, yet Courtney’s directness continued Claire’s relaxation. It felt so good to be talking openly with her friend. There’d been too many secrets—she longed for truth. Claire settled against the soft cushions as Nichol, hidden discretely behind a blanket, suckled her breast. Smiling, she answered, “I don’t know what I was afraid you were going to ask, but that wasn’t it. Without a doubt, it’s different! He’s changed. I know some people say that people don’t change—but they do. I have too. The life we shared in our first marriage and before is a distant memory. For Nichol’s sake, I wish it could remain hidden. She doesn’t need to know any of that. Her father is a good man.”

  Courtney replied, “But some new things have come up—things from that box you told me about—allegations and suggestions of other things Tony may have done—or at least, he may have been involved with.”

  “I promise—I know everything. I’m not saying he was always a good man or a good husband. I’m saying he is now, and when we were here in Iowa, before I left, he was also. Courtney, he knows what he’s done, and he’s sorry.”

  Courtney knelt beside Claire. “I believe you. I can see it in your eyes.” She reached out and held Claire’s hand. “I hope this can all be worked out. You’ve been through enough.”

  “I’m sorry that I’ve dragged you along.”

  “Oh goodness, don’t be sorry.”

  Claire sighed. “As always, you’re there for me. Hopefully, someday I can repay the favor. I know it’s late; do you want to go to bed? We can talk in the morning.”

  “If you don’t mind me being here until the men get back, I want to talk, and maybe when she’s done eating, I can hold Nichol Courtney.”

  Claire smiled, her heavy lids fluttered as she stifled a yawn. “I’d love that.” Suddenly, Claire had a thought. “Tony knows that you two know about our past, doesn’t he?”

  Courtney nodded. “The FBI showed him and Brent your testimony from 2010 when he was being questioned. After keeping his thoughts silent for almost two years, Brent confronted him.”

  “Tony never told me. Well, not until we were almost here. Even then, he didn’t finish.”

  “Brent didn’t tell Tony it wasn’t new information, but he did call him out.”

  Claire smiled. “Tell Brent thank you. I know that must have been very difficult for him.”

  Courtney shrugged. “It was good for them. Now, with all Brent’s done in Tony’s absence, I think they too will be better than before.”

  Claire squeezed her best friend’s hand. “I’ve missed you so much. I only learned in the van that you’ve known our secret all along.”

  “Once Tony disappeared, Brent knew he was out looking for you. He never thought he was hurt in the emergency landing. The FBI were too elusive. Eventually, Mr. Roach contacted Brent with a message from Tony. They hoped it would escape the FBI’s radar. After all, Brent was the one who hired Mr. Roach to track you last year.”

  Claire listened in marvel as all the memories of the past twelve months cascaded through her mind. It seemed impossible that she’d been released from prison only a year ago; so much had happened.

  Courtney proceeded to fill Claire in on her and Brent’s children. Maryn, their daughter, was about to complete her doctoral thesis, and Caleb and Julia were doing well. As Courtney took Nichol from Claire’s arms, she added, “No grandchildren—yet.”

  Claire remembered how Courtney wanted them. “Well, hopefully one day we’ll be living back here, and you can be Aunt Cort or Grandma if you’d prefer.”

  “Oh no, Aunt is just fine, even when I am a grandma we’ll need to come up with a younger sounding title.” Claire went to their bags to get her things, when Courtney’s voice rose in volume. “Oh, my goodness, you probably don’t know!”

  Startled, Claire turned and asked, “Know what?”

  “You’re going to be an aunt!”

  Staring at Courtney’s nodding head, Claire teetered between excited and scared. “Emily’s pregnant?”

  “Yes, but she isn’t due until July. We started talking periodically after you disappeared.”

  “And, even after you knew we were safe, you didn’t tell her?”

  “It was difficult, but not telling her was supposed to keep her and John safe. Brent hated what they were doing to Rawlings Industries, but Mr. Roach assured us that Tony thought it was best.”

  Claire collapsed on the edge of the bed. She was too tired to censor everything she said. Shock and disbelief were evident in each word, “Tony knew? He knew you had information that would convince John and Emily to stop their pursuit of Rawlings Industries, and he told Brent not to use it? He chose my family over his company?”

  Courtney’s blue eyes twinkled. “He did, sweetie. He didn’t know about Emily’s baby, probably still doesn’t, but he knew about the plan to
keep them safe. Actually, I think the plan was his idea. That’s why I thought you were all right. I hoped and prayed”—she squeezed Claire’s knee—“It was just that seeing you—I needed to be sure.”

  “I am. Now, I’m even more worried about Emily. Oh, my God, she’s pregnant! I wonder if that’s why Catherine wanted to see her. I mean, now there will be another child of a child”—her hands trembled—“Why would Emily agree to visit Catherine?”

  “I wanted to tell her not to come. I even tried to dissuade her—I told her I could get things from the house. She said she wanted to see everything herself.”

  “That’s my sister. She probably thinks she’ll learn more about me if she goes to the estate.” Claire tried to focus on all the issues. “With all the bad publicity she and John generated, how bad is it for Rawlings Industries? I’ve tried to keep up, but it isn’t the—”

  Before Claire could finish her question, the ladies turned to see the opening door with Tony’s questioning eyes peering toward them. Grinning, he opened it wider and exposed Brent. “I wanted to be sure Nichol was done eating,” he explained as both men entered the room.

  It was obvious that Tony and Brent’s issues were resolved. The four friends had entered a new world. Too much time had been lost to secrets. In the midst of chaos, they’d reached understanding and openness.

  Tony large hands massaged Claire’s tight shoulders as Brent stepped closer to Nichol. She was sleeping soundly in Courtney’s arms. Approvingly, he remarked, “You did great, Claire. She’s beautiful!”

  Courtney added, “Wait until you see her awake. She has the biggest, most beautiful brown eyes.”

  Tony laughed. “Evidence that Claire had a little help.”

  “I hope we can all be together tomorrow evening. I have a meeting in Chicago”—looking at his watch, Brent added—“in less than six hours, so perhaps we should get some sleep.”