Roach didn’t disappoint; he even delivered the rings in person to Tony’s office. Now, within the confines of his suite, Tony possessed her rings and her grandmother’s necklace. During less lucid moments, he’d imagine returning the rings to their rightful owner. He’d envision her smiling, emerald gaze as she’d extend her petite hand. The eyes in his imagination swirled with a combination of desire and happiness, as he’d slip the platinum band and sparkling diamond back onto her finger. Those were the moments when love overpowered hate.
Tony looked through his inbox and found Cameron Andrew’s emails. He clicked and reread the last few weeks of reports. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied with his ex-wife’s release and new life, he’d have known about Sophia’s move. Would it have mattered? Maybe this move would streamline his life. Tony chuckled as he pulled up a map of Silicon Valley. Perhaps he should fire one of his private investigators. The red arrows said it all: Sophia and Claire were living mere miles apart.
Exhaling, Tony minimized his screen. He was going to California. After over eight years of—on again and off again—watching Claire from afar, he wasn’t going to do it any longer. He clicked on Roach’s most recent email and exhaled at the displeasure of seeing Claire’s life unfold in pictures. With a fresh tumbler of bourbon, he stared at the screen. Before him he saw Claire and Harrison Baldwin dining at some restaurant. The hair on the back of Tony’s neck bristled as he observed their level of comfort. Roach had many attributes: one was the ability to take pictures in rapid succession. By activating the slideshow program, Tony could watch as if it were a movie, and like a real video from his surveillance, he could also pause and stare at each frame.
Weeks ago, Roach had sent background information on Amber McCoy and Harrison Baldwin. It was pretty straightforward: they were siblings—same mother with different fathers—who were both were on the payroll of SiJo, and both lived in the same condominium complex in Palo Alto. What his research didn’t answer was… why? Why would Claire turn to Amber McCoy, Simon Johnson’s fiancée, for help? How did they become friends? Tony met Amber at Simon Johnson’s funeral, the same time Claire met her. It didn’t make sense.
He paused the slide show at the sound of Catherine’s knock. As he looked up, she entered. “Have you learned anything new?”
Tony didn’t want to discuss Claire with Catherine. Claire was his, and he didn’t want to share; however, he acquiesced, knowing it was he who had brought Claire into Catherine’s life. “I just opened an email.”
Catherine walked around the desk and peered over Tony’s shoulder. “Hmm, I don’t think you need to worry.” She smirked. “She seems to be rebuilding her life quite well.”
Tony minimized the screen and turned to glare. “I could use less innuendo.”
Sitting down, Catherine shrugged. “I didn’t realize I was insinuating. I’m being honest. She looks happy.”
He hated to admit that Catherine was right. “Roach said they’re friends. He hasn’t seen anything to indicate—”
“That’s not what the articles are saying. I saw one that said she was living with—”
The muscles in Tony’s neck flinched. “Catherine, I think we both know that reporters like to sensationalize things.”
“So you believe that she’s living with Simon Johnson’s fiancée?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Maybe they’re all one big, happy family living under one roof.”
“No,” he responded adamantly. “Roach said that Baldwin’s apartment is on the same floor as his sister’s. Claire is living with the sister.”
After a prolonged silence, Catherine asked, “Why?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Tony admitted he didn’t know. He couldn’t figure it out. “But,” he added, “I guess that we should be happy she has a place to live.”
“We should?”
“Do you want her living on the street?”
“That’s not what I mean. She has a sister.”
“I’m not defending her choice.”
“I would hope not,” Catherine quipped. “We both know that choices aren’t her strong suit.”
“Then perhaps she needs guidance.”
“And I suppose you know a willing teacher?”
“I have work in California next week.”
She lifted a brow. “Work?”
“Yes, I have subsidiaries on the West Coast that need my attention.”
Catherine nodded. “I’m surprised it took you so long.”
“I’d go now, after these latest pictures, but Claire’s going out of town tomorrow—to Texas.”
“Texas? By herself?”
“That’s what Roach said, but of course, he’ll be there, too. So we’ll find out exactly what she’s doing.”
“And when you’re in California…?” Catherine probed.
Tony straightened his shoulders. “Do you want me to say it? Do you want to hear it?”
“Anton, I want you to admit it to yourself.”
“Fine! I want to put her on my plane, bring her back here, and convince her that this is where she belongs.” He sighed. “I want her to want to be here, to admit that she’s miserable in California. I want…” His words trailed away as he maximized the pictures on his screen.
As he gazed at Claire’s expression in picture after picture, Catherine’s voice infiltrated his thoughts. “She’s all over the Internet. If she suddenly went missing, it would be noticed.”
He ran his hand over his cheeks, rubbing his stubbly growth. “I know. I know that I can’t do that again. She needs to realize it on her own, and I don’t know…” He couldn’t complete the sentence. Anthony Rawlings rarely admitted lack of knowledge, but he honestly didn’t know. He didn’t know what to do to make her understand. He looked up at Catherine’s gray eyes and knew that she saw through him. The two of them had been through too much together.
“She knows you.” Catherine’s voice softened. “Perhaps better than you know yourself. You need to help her understand what she knows.”
Tony nodded. “What if… if she doesn’t want to know?”
“She does. She wants to know more about you and why things happened the way they did.”
His brows lifted. “How do you know that?”
“I know you don’t see me as one, but Anton, I’m a woman.”
“I know you’re a woman. What does that have to do—”
“I know what it’s like to be an outsider in this household. She lived here for almost two years, and yet never knew the family secrets. She never knew the why.”
“She’ll hate us forever if she knows. I can’t—”
Catherine’s head shook from side to side. “You underestimated her ability to survive. You underestimated her ability to get to you. Don’t underestimate her ability to understand.” She started walking toward the door.
“Marie.”
She turned toward him with an unspoken question.