Tony didn’t want to admit it, but along with the anger and disappointment, he was concerned—maybe that was part of his dream? Was Claire all right? How was she living? Was she destitute? Those thoughts would temporarily derail the anger until he’d remember that this—all of this—was all her fault. She left him. Now she’d done it again. How could she be so stupid? He would find her. Then, he would—he didn’t know, but he knew he would find her.
A driver waited at the Des Moines private airport to whisk Tony and Brent to Ms. Allyson’s downtown office. Once they were inside the car, Tony asked, “What about travel? Could she have left the country? I still have her passport.”
“Roach doesn’t believe that she could get a passport this fast. Homeland Security would never allow her to leave the country without one. Well, he said they would never allow her to reenter the country without one; leaving is a possibility.”
Tony shrugged. “Has anyone spoken to Bosley?”
“No. He’s undergoing chemotherapy. According to his assistant, the cancer has metastasized to his bones. The treatment is extremely taxing, and he’s not available for comment.”
“I want to know why in the hell he signed that pardon. I supported his campaign. He was at my wedding!” Each statement became more emphatic. With the last comment, he realized, it was her wedding, too. “I want to know every name associated with this injustice.”
Brent nodded. “We’ll have more answers soon.”
When they arrived to Ms. Allyson’s office, a little before 10:00 AM, Quinn immediately called her boss. “Ms. Allyson, Mr. Rawlings is here, accompanied by his attorney, Mr. Simmons.” After a moment, she smiled and said, “Please, follow me gentlemen, Ms. Allyson will see you now.”
Claire’s former attorney met them at her office door and ushered them inside. “Hello, Mr. Rawlings, Mr. Simmons, please have a seat.”
Tony and Brent sat opposite her desk.
Before they could speak, she said, “Now gentlemen, to what do I owe this honor?”
Brent spoke first. “It has just recently come to my client’s attention that on March 8th you filed a petition with then Governor Bosley, requesting a pardon for Claire Nichols.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“My client would like to know why this was filed, on what grounds, and who approached you to make this request.”
“Gentlemen, Ms. Nichols was never convicted of a crime. She pled no contest. That was not an admission of guilt. She’s had an impeccable record during incarceration…”
Her words faded into the all-encompassing red. Tony didn’t give a damn for Ms. Allyson’s legal drivel. When she paused, he asked, “Why was I not notified?”
“Why would you need to be notified?”
He wanted to slap the smug expression from her face. “For my safety. She tried to kill me!”
“Have you been threatened since her release?”
“No.” Tony bristled. “I just learned of her release last night.”
“It appears as though you needn’t be concerned. She’s had two weeks to finish what you claim she started, and it seems that you’re still with us.”
Mentally, Tony gripped the arms of the chair. The words flowing through his head wouldn’t be beneficial to the conversation. Perhaps Brent sensed Tony’s demeanor, since he continued the inquiry. “Do you know where Ms. Nichols relocated? For my client’s safety, he should be informed.”
“I do not. As I’m sure you’re aware, with a pardon, the criminal record is expunged. Ms. Nichols does not owe the court a thing. She is free to go wherever she chooses. Furthermore, she is not required to keep the court or the state of Iowa informed of her whereabouts. I took her to the airport and left her at the gate. There is nothing more I can tell you.”
“She had a ticket for San Francisco,” Brent said, “but prior to boarding the plane, her reservation was cancelled. Do you know where she went instead?”
Jane appeared genuinely surprised. “I don’t know anything about her reservation being cancelled, and as I said before, I don’t know where she is now.”
“Ms. Allyson, she had a first-class ticket. Do you know how Ms. Nichols could afford such a ticket?”
“As I mentioned, some things are confidential.” Standing, Jane said, “Now, gentlemen, if that is all? I have work—”
How dare she? Tony hadn’t flown to Des Moines to be flippantly dismissed. He stood to meet her glare. “Ms. Allyson, I’m not happy with the recent turn of events. I plan to learn of all individuals involved in this miscarriage of justice, and it’s obvious that you played a role.”
Her gaze never faltered. “Mr. Rawlings, I was your ex-wife’s co-counsel during her trial. I represented her then, and I would gladly do so again. If you have complaints about her pardon then I recommend you take them up with Richard Bosley. His signature alone opened the door of her cell, and I’m certain that a man of your stature did not intend for his concern regarding self-preservation to be misinterpreted as a threat. That wouldn’t coincide with your benevolent image and—I’ll add—is illegal.”
Standing to join the rest, Brent interceded, “You’re correct, Ms. Allyson. My client is obviously distraught over the recent turn of events. You can understand his alarm. After all, Ms. Nichols tried to harm him once. It’s only natural for him to be concerned she may try to do it again.”
“Yes, Mr. Simmons, I see how your client would be concerned that my client would cause him harm.”
Tony didn’t appreciate Ms. Allyson’s thinly veiled implication. He wasn’t going to allow her to bring up Claire’s accusations in front of Brent. Inhaling deeply, Tony summoned his most affable voice. “Thank you, Ms. Allyson. I’m glad you understand my concern, and I hope you didn’t misinterpret my alarm. If you remember anything else regarding Ms. Nichols’ departure or learn of her location, I would appreciate being informed.” Well-ingrained manners took over as Tony extended his hand.
Shaking it firmly, Ms. Allyson replied, “Mr. Rawlings, you will be among the first I call. Are we done?”
“Yes,” Tony said, with a genuine smile. “I believe we are.” As they exited her office, Tony’s lips remained turned upward as he contemplated various possibilities of derailing Ms. Allyson’s career. Someone would take the fall for this travesty, and right now, she was at the top of his list.
With nightfall, Tony’s energy plummeted. The surge that had been propelling him for nearly twenty-four hours was gone. He stared once again at the text message he’d received from Phillip Roach.
“I’M CONFIDENT THAT THIS IS MS. NICHOLS’ NUMBER. AMONG OTHER NUMBERS, IT HAS BEEN IN CONTACT WITH EMILY VANDERSOL, ON MULTIPLE DAILY CALLS, SINCE THE MIDDLE OF MARCH. I’VE NARROWED THE ORIGIN OF THE CALLS TO PALO ALTO, CALIFORNIA. THE NUMBER IS: XXX-XXX-XXXX. I WILL CONTACT YOU AGAIN WHEN I LEARN MORE.”
Tony had waited all day for more information and was tired of waiting. He’d learn for himself. Walking the corridor back to his suite, Tony entered his private haven, his sanctuary. He didn’t want to be interrupted—or overheard—like the night before.