She nodded. “Be safe. I think Eric’s waiting.”
Three days later, Tony received word of an attempted break-in at the estate. Thankfully, Clay had thwarted the attempt. Unfortunately, the perpetrator had not been caught. It seemed obvious that Chester’s accomplice was becoming bolder with his threats. More than anything, Tony wanted to get back to Iowa.
To that end, he rescheduled a few of his meetings and contemplated waiting for another time to visit Switzerland. The money could wait. It hadn’t been discovered in over twenty-five years. One extra six-month period of accumulation wouldn’t make that big of a difference. He had two more days before he could leave, when he received the call from Clay explaining that someone had tried to run him and Claire off the road. Tony didn’t give a damn about any more of the meetings—he headed home.
Twice before he took off, Tony tried to reach Claire. The first time, Catherine answered. He was shocked to hear her voice on Claire’s private phone, but it made sense when Catherine explained that Claire was shaken by the incident and was sleeping. The second time he tried, his call went straight to voice mail. As soon as his plane landed in Iowa, he tried to reach her again. This time, it continued to ring. Even the voice mail wouldn’t activate. Next, Tony tried Catherine. She answered right away.
“Catherine, can you go to Claire? I’ve been trying to reach her, but she isn’t answering.”
“I would, Anthony. However, she isn’t home.”
He exhaled. “All right, maybe she forgot her phone. I’ll call Clay.”
“He’s here. She left yesterday after her nap and we haven’t seen her since.”
His world imploded. “What do you mean she left yesterday and hasn’t come back? How could she leave without Clay?”
“She said she was tired of the constant surveillance and needed a break.”
“When? Why haven’t you called me or the police?”
Catherine tried to justify her reasoning. “Yesterday evening… I assumed she’d be back. It wasn’t until this morning we realized she hadn’t returned. You were in the air; I couldn’t reach you. I haven’t called the police. What was I supposed to say? A twenty-nine-year-old woman drove away, on her own, and now I can’t reach her? Once Clay learned she’d disappeared, he followed the GPS, and your car was located outside Des Moines… Anton, I’m so sorry. I truly thought she would return after she got her break. I was doing what you said to do—trust. You know how the hormones are making her emotional. I’m very worried.”
“Eric! Hit the damn gas! I need to be home!” Tony’s mind scrambled as he spoke to Catherine through the phone. “Des Moines? Jane Allyson is there. I’ll contact her.”
“Claire left her phone and iPad here. I can tell you, she’s missed many calls from people, especially her sister.”
“Shit, someone will need to contact Emily.” The jet lag was nothing compared to the chaos occurring in his mind. “What if Chester’s accomplice has her? We need to get the police involved. Have I received any ransom requests?”
“No, nothing here.”
“So a car tries to run Clay off the road, and later that same day, Claire decides to leave. Doesn’t anyone else think that this is suspicious?” His question was rhetorical; he’d disconnected their call.
Three days passed. The police came and went. Tony made phone calls and offered rewards. Every nut job came out of the woodwork, yet no one could find Claire. For endless hours, he stared at the monitors in his office. The large screen was subdivided into many smaller screens. At the top was a live feed from outside his office door. He didn’t want any intruders. Below were multiple smaller screens changing constantly with various locations on the estate. The bulk of the screen held two videos. He controlled the speed and sound of each one. On the left, he saw Claire in his garages, rushing to the key cabinet and removing the key to a Mercedes-Benz. In the lower right corner the date read: 01/17/12. On the right was the video of Claire walking casually to the key cabinet that no longer held a lock. He watched as she removed the keys to a BMW and calmly walked toward the car. The date in the lower right corner read: 09/04/13. Repeatedly, he paused and scrutinized the scenes. With all his might, he tried to read Claire’s facial expressions.
In 2012, he saw fear as Claire looked around nervously. On the video recorded only days earlier, Tony wondered what he saw. No, he knew what he saw: she was wearing her mask of steely determination. What he didn’t know was what emotion was hidden beneath it.
When the police saw the 2013 video, they theorized that Claire left of her own free will. If that were true, wouldn’t she have taken more belongings? Wouldn’t she have taken more money? She had access. She had credit cards and an ATM card, yet they were all found in an Illinois hotel.
Being nearly 2:00 AM, Tony was alone in his office. The various screens displaying the estate were devoid of people. Everyone was fast asleep. Even the crickets outside his open windows knew to leave him in silence, yet with no one to hear, he spoke the question he’d been wrestling with for days, “Why, Claire? Why?” In one gulp, he downed the amber liquid from the crystal tumbler. Though the rich Glen Garioch whiskey went down smoothly, it didn’t ease the ache in his head or the pain in his chest.
Maintaining his facade for the last few days had successfully drained his strength. Tony needed sleep, but how could he sleep in their bed? He couldn’t even stand to enter their room or see the unfinished nursery. It was the not knowing that hurt the most. If he knew she were safe… If he knew she did this of her own free will… but he didn’t know. Last time—in 2012—he knew, and without a doubt, the pain he’d put her through back then added to his current torment.
How could Claire evaporate into thin air?
The BMW she’d driven was thoroughly searched by Iowa’s top CSI. Only her fingerprints, Clay’s, Eric’s, and Tony’s were discovered… no unknown clues.
For the first time in his life, Tony had dared to believe in happily-ever-after. It was a risk. At a young age he’d learned that it was unattainable; therefore, he’d never even tried… until Claire. Somehow, for a few short months, his everything was at his fingertips. The wealth, homes, and appearance of stability and sanity all meant nothing when he saw the pictures of Claire with Harry. Tony couldn’t be at that damn gala and know she was there with him. Hell, Tony hadn’t even known about their baby. He just knew, for the first time in his life, Anthony Rawlings was willing to risk public scrutiny to have what he wanted most. What mattered to him above anything else—the contents of his envelope. The problem was making her realize it.
Tony reached into his drawer and removed the envelope. It no longer brought the smile to his lips as it once had. Now, it was a blatant reminder of all he’d lost. Tossing it back into the drawer, he turned off the screens, and lay upon the soft leather sofa. His mind went back to 2011. On this very couch… on this luxurious carpet… on his desk. He smiled. There was hardly a place where they hadn’t been together. Damn, they’d been great. Despite the happy memories, the knife in his heart twisted. The things he’d done to her, the emptiness he’d given her—the regret was almost paralyzing.