“We’ll see you in Boston, tomorrow.”
Harry exhaled. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be there.”
His blue eyes sparkled with excitement. Traveling cross country was a hell-of-a-lot better than sitting in his damn condominium. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to all of this. Harry couldn’t shake the thought that somehow Rawlings was still involved; nevertheless, Catherine London was the reason Claire ran—the person who scared Claire into leaving the country, her family, friends, even at the risk of sullying Rawlings’ reputation and company in the process. Claire wouldn’t have done that if the threat wasn’t real. Now, Rawlings was cooperating with the bureau. How deep did this go? Did Rawlings have information on Sherman Nichols or Nathaniel’s murder? Harry wanted to know what Rawlings had told Agent Jackson.
He’d share his information—then Jackson could share his; quid pro quo.
Gathering his research, Harry made a mental list. He needed to call SAC Williams and let him know he was going to Boston, and since he’d been forbidden to travel, he needed to be sure to emphasize—this trip was at the request of Agent Jackson. While Harry waited for the computer to finish running a backup, he pulled out his phone and sent a text.
“FYI—LEAVING 1ST THING IN THE MORNING—BUSINESS.”
He entered Amber and Liz’s names and hit SEND.
One last computer search—Harry entered Catherine’s current full name—Catherine Marie London. Very little information surfaced, not even a reference to her one time husband or his last name. As he was about to exit the search, something caught his attention:
Executor of Anthony Rawlings estate, effective: September 18, 2013—fourteen days after the disappearance of...
The short article described the efficient and unaffected running of the Rawlings’ estate, due in essence to Ms. London’s ability to oversee day to day operations. It was a small counter article to one about the ramifications of Anthony Rawlings’ disappearance in relation to Rawlings Industries.
Hmmm...maybe Harry should visit Iowa City? Did he want to see Rawlings’ estate—the place Claire lived—was held captive—and returned to? He shrugged—the past was what it was. Closing this case was his number one priority. First, he’d see how things went in Boston; then, he’d consider Iowa—a definite possibility.
His phone vibrated. Looking to the screen, he saw he had two text messages. The first one was from Amber:
“NEW INFORMATION? WHAT? WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”
Harry shook his head and replied.
“LOVE YA SIS. I’LL LET YOU KNOW WHEN I’M BACK.”
The second text message was from Liz:
“TOMORROW MORNING? DOES THAT MEAN YOU’RE STILL IN TOWN TONIGHT? COINCIDENCE, SO AM I!?”
He smiled—they’d been through a lot, but finally, Liz seemed to understand the whole work and personal life separation, and maybe, just maybe, he was starting to understand what it meant to have that special someone in his life—someone who supported you, no matter what. Harry replied.
“YOUR PLACE? I’M SICK OF THESE FOUR WALLS!”
Phil was thankful Rawlings had projects for him to research. Sophia Burke continued to be uneventful. Honestly, Phil sensed his assignment would soon be over. Ms. London hadn’t shared her reasoning for his reconnaissance; nevertheless, with the information from Rawlings, it wasn’t difficult to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
Ms. London requested to know Sophia’s habits and schedules. Once she did, she purposely intertwined their lives. Suddenly, Ms. London’s routine included lunch at a deli near the University of Iowa, visits to art galleries in the Quad Cities, and frequenting art museums in Cedar Rapids. At each encounter, the women appeared more at ease.
Phil had no reason to believe Ms. London had revealed her true identity to Sophia. She hadn’t shared it with him either; nonetheless, his job was to help arrange their coincidental meetings.