Keeping her well-used mask intact, Claire harshly whispered, “What’s going on? What do you think you’re doing?”
Before her eyes, the look of determination, which had overshadowed Harry’s expression, melted away. She watched as the kind, hurt man from Palo Alto emerged. It was as if he were two completely different people. The familiar one looked down at the table and gently shook his head. His voice brimmed with emotion, as he asked, “Do you have any idea how worried your sister is? How worried we all have been?”
Claire wanted to trust him, she did. There was just something wrong with the whole scenario. “How did you find me? Why are you looking?”
The pain in his eyes, the same eyes that had said goodbye to her at the hospital, mellowed Claire’s concerns. At the same time, they increased her sense of unease. After all, months ago, she’d been the cause of that pain. Seeing it right in front of her brought back her sense of guilt at the way things had transpired.
“Emily.”
More guilt flooded Claire’s overflowing emotions. “What about Emily?”
“She asked me to use my resources and try to find you.”
Claire looked down at the table as she weighed her words. With hormones raging and emotions swirling, the internal cyclone was difficult to maneuver.
Harry’s hand reached for hers. When his warm fingers contacted her skin, the cyclone stilled. She wasn’t seeing Emily or John; she wasn’t worried about Phil’s reaction to this encounter. Immediately, Claire retracted her hand as Tony dominated her thoughts. No matter what she’d done to him in the past, despite the fact she’d left him without a word, her heart was his. Yes, she’d been debating her memories, worried about their future, but none of that mattered. She told Marcus Evergreen Tony was in danger. She hadn’t told him the cause, but she would—when the time was right. She’d asked Marcus to secure his safety. Once she was sure that Tony was no longer in danger, her accusations could be told. First, she needed to see Tony—her ex-husband—her fiancé—perhaps her ex-fiancé.
“I’m sorry, Harry. We’re friends, I hope”—looking down at their hands— “but not that close of friends—anymore.”
“I assumed since you left him—”
“You assumed wrong”—Claire inhaled and softened her tone—“I know it looks that way. I left Iowa for my safety and the safety of”—she almost said our, thinking of Tony, but changed it to my, since she didn’t want to rehash old injuries—“my child. I didn’t leave Tony. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but it will someday.”
The man with determination in his eyes returned. “Safety? If it wasn’t Mr. Rawlings you feared, then who?”
“Please don’t say anything to Emily. I’m not trying to hurt her; I’m trying to protect her. There’s a danger that can hopefully be stopped.” Looking directly into Harry’s eyes, she added, “And it isn’t Tony.”
“Claire, none of it makes sense. Does this have anything to do with Chester? Was he working with someone? Does Rawlings know where you are?” Sitting straighter, he asked, “Is he with you, here in Venice?”
Without thinking, Claire answered, “Of course not, he’s still in Iowa.”
“No, no he’s not. Haven’t you heard?”
Claire’s heartbeat quickened; her arm protectively covering her midsection, Claire asked, “Heard what?”
“A few days ago, a plane Rawlings chartered made an emergency landing in the Appalachian Mountains.”
Claire’s mind went to Simon; his plane crashed in the mountains. Tears materialized as terror filled her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
Harry continued, “They didn’t find anyone. The officials aren’t claiming anyone died. They also aren’t saying anyone survived. At first, I thought about Simon.” He reached for Claire’s hand. This time, their common bond united them, and the warmth of his skin fused their brief past. She didn’t pull her hand away. “But then...” he continued. “I thought maybe it was a ruse for him to disappear and get to you. Emily was so frightened. At first, she assumed he was responsible for your disappearance, then she thought if you did leave, on your own, and not tell anyone, it was because you were scared”—He squeezed her hand—“I believe she’s right about that. Of course, she assumed it was Rawlings you were frightened of; then when he disappeared, she was overwrought with worry. She was sure that he’d track you down. She asked me to do it first.”
Claire felt the heat of his hand and heard the concern in his voice; however, something didn’t feel right. She didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was that the whole picture didn’t fit together. It was like trying to squeeze the wrong puzzle piece into the opening. The shapes were similar, but when you stood back and looked, the picture was wrong. Sitting with her hand in Harry’s wasn’t the right picture. She eased her fingers away.