Tony replied to Phillip Roach: KEEP HER IN SIGHT. LET ME KNOW IF THERE ARE ANY STOPS ON THE WAY TO THE CONDO. WHERE IS THAT PICTURE? He hit send. Text message number two, to Claire: OUR AGREEMENT FORBIDS PUBLIC EXPOSURE WITH ANYONE ELSE! I THOUGHT I’D MADE THAT CLEAR! WE HAVE AN UNDERSTANDING! (Exclamation marks were so often overused in text messages.) Tony hesitated. He repeatedly hit the backspace key.
He typed once again: IM GLAD THE AIR WAS TO YOUR LIKING. REMEMBER OUR AGREEMENT. CALL WHEN YOU’RE SETTLED. The restraint was difficult, but he knew he wasn’t going to win her back without effort. The damn press would have a field day if they saw her with Mr. Baldwin, but Tony reminded himself to do what he’d told her to do -- trust. Exhaling he tried. It was especially difficult if you’d never done it before.
The sound and vibration announced another arriving text message: THE PICTURE WAS SENT TO YOUR EMAIL. LET ME KNOW IF YOU DON’T HAVE IT.
Shit, Tony had been trying to read the acquisition documents and forgot to check his email. He switched screens. There was the email from Phillip Roach with attachment. He opened the attachment. The photo quality was poor, obviously enlarged too many times, creating a very grainy image. Tony pushed the plush carpet with his feet, as his leather chair moved away from the screen hoping for a clearer picture. He saw a man with little to no hair. Was he older and balding or younger with his head shaved? Looking closer Tony guessed the man was older. Normally, Tony was excellent with names and faces. He saw a hint of familiarity, but Tony couldn’t remember why. Perhaps it had been a long time since he’d seen him, or maybe he’d been on television or in the news. Regardless, the twinge of recognition made Tony uncomfortable. Why would someone he recognized be stealing Claire’s laptop?
Two more text messages came through his iPhone. The first one, from Claire: I DO. I WILL LATER. Tony exhaled. It took every fiber of self-restraint to not get on another plane and go get her. Second message, from Phillip Roach: DID YOU GET THE EMAIL? I CAN RESEND.
*****
On a Sunday night the light traffic around Palo Alto flowed well. Nevertheless, within Harry’s Mustang their polite conversation was strained through the dense unspoken tension. Harry asked, “How was the wedding?”
Claire told him about Caleb, Julia, Courtney, and Brent and how nice it was to talk openly. She rambled about one thing and another, avoiding their impending discussion.
As the tension began to wane, Harry asked, “Would you like to get something to eat?”
Claire thought about it. She was hungry. Yet, Tony’s reminder about their agreement came to mind. Even more deterring was the thought of her and Harry’s future talk. “I think I’d like to order something to the condo,” she said, as they neared the four story building. “It will be more private, and we need to talk.”
Harry eyed her suspiciously, “Talk?”
Claire exhaled. “Oh, come on. You have more questions than you’re politely asking. I think we need to be honest about what’s going on.”
“I thought we were.”
Claire exhaled. “Please, I need to tell you a few things.”
“Maybe I don’t want to hear them.” Harry waved at the security guard as he pulled the Mustang into the underground parking garage. “Hey, there’s a van in your spot.” Harry noticed as they wove around to his assigned parking spot. “I don’t remember seeing that before. I could call...” He hesitated, “or maybe you should call security and have it moved.”
Claire didn’t care about the stupid van. She wouldn’t have her car back from the airport until tomorrow. “If it’s here in the morning I will. It’s probably someone’s guest who doesn’t know about the assigned spots.” She looked at his light blue eyes, “Please, can we order some delivery and talk?”
“Yeah, fine.” He got out of the car and began removing her bags from his trunk. “My place or yours?”
Claire pulled the smaller bag, while Harry pulled the larger. Stepping into the elevator she replied, “How about yours?” She reasoned it would be easier for her to leave if things got too uncomfortable. “I’ll take my bags in and freshen up. Then I’ll be over.”
“Don’t forget, your room’s a mess.”
She had forgotten. There were too many things competing for space in her head. “Oh yeah, I’ll do a quick inventory and let you know if I think anything else is missing.”
Harry walked Claire to her door and let go of her large suitcase. “Are you sure you’re okay seeing your room by yourself?”
Claire shrugged. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why don’t you call for some food?” She thought a moment as she unlocked her door, “Just no sushi, all right?”
Harry’s blue eyes squinted, allowing his amazingly long lashes to linger near his cheeks, and his head tilted to the side. “But you like sushi,” seeing her wrinkled nose he asked, “How about Chinese?”
She nodded. “Chinese sounds great. Extra rice,” she added with a smile.
*****
Parked across the street from 365 Forest Avenue in his nondescript grey Camry, Phillip watched the lights turn on in the large windows on the fourth floor. He typed the text message while engaging his laptop. MS NICHOLS ARRIVED TO CONDO. NO STOPS ON WAY. He checked his laptop. The sensors would indicate if only her apartment opened or if both hers and Mr. Baldwin’s opened. The sensors were new, but with the recent break-in and an unlimited budget, no piece of technology was beyond his scope.
There must be something wrong with his sensors. Yes, Claire’s door just opened and now Mr. Baldwin’s door opened. However, the data indicated Claire’s door also opened twenty minutes ago. Phillip’s heart raced as he looked up toward the windows. He pulled out his phone; Mr. Rawlings answered on the first ring. Common pleasantries disappeared, “I just read my sensors. She’s in her unit and it was opened twenty minutes ago.” Phil’s voice came with deep breaths as he raced across the street.
Ignoring Mr. Rawlings’ bellowing voice, Phil hastily entered Claire’s building and approached the security desk, “Has anyone been to unit 4 A recently?” The security guard looked at Phil questionably. Phil repeated himself louder, “The unit that was broken into last week? Has anyone been up there?” Phil could still hear Mr. Rawlings yelling through the phone.
“Yes, there was a delivery. The man had the appropriate documents.”
Phil revealed the picture he’d sent Mr. Rawlings, “Is this the man?”
The security guard looked at the picture, “I don’t know. He had documents. Yeah, maybe... he was bald.”
“Call 911 and get me up there right away!” Phil’s voice rose above Mr. Rawlings’.
*****
Tony could hear everything and do nothing. How long would it take to get up four flights? He disconnected from Phillip Roach and scrolled his contacts, finding Harrison Baldwin. He hit call.
*****
Claire pulled her luggage into the foyer. She’d forgotten about her room being a mess. Maybe Tony didn’t have anything to do with it. If that were the case, she was glad she’d been out of town when it happened. Suddenly, she wished Amber were home.