He would know the correct number to call; however, she needed to entertain the possibility that he wasn’t the person who accessed the box. If that were the case, Claire had a back-up plan. She had cell phones associated with each number. The only phone she’d answer was the one identified by the asterisk. During their marriage, when Tony finally allowed her to own a cellular telephone, he programmed her contacts—the only calls she was permitted to answer—were those programmed with an asterisk preceding the name. No one else knew this part of their history; she hadn’t shared it with anyone—not even in her memoirs.
If someone else discovered the safety deposit box, then they would more than likely call one of the numbers associated with a name. If that happened, if one of the other two phones rang, Claire decided she wouldn’t answer; instead, she’d destroy all three international disposable phones and focus on her future.
She’d spent the morning in the gardens with Francis. The fertility of the soil, combined with the sun and rain, produced yields Claire could never have imagined in Iowa or Indiana. After a cooling swim in the pool, a shower, and lunch, Claire was spending her afternoon relaxing on her bed and reading a book. The tranquility of the sea breeze and the sound of the surf had her in a near hypnotic state. An afternoon nap was growing nearer as the words of her book lost focus and her eyelids fought to remain open.
The ring to her untraceable international phone made her jump, evaporating the tropical serenity. It was the correct phone—the one linked to the asterisk. Although she was apprehensive about his initial reaction, she had no option. Claire wanted to answer—it was now or never. Ring...ring...
Steadying her voice, despite her trembling hands, Claire hit the RECEIVE button and spoke, “Hello, Tony.”
“My God, it is you!” As his volume increased, she imagined his dark eyes and the vein in his neck pulsating. She recognized the change in his tone as his words came in a low growl from behind gritted teeth, “What have you done?”
Staying steadfast, Claire spoke with confidence, “If I hang up, then you’ll never be able to contact me again. The choice is yours.”
Closing her eyes, Claire listened as he struggled for composure. It took a few minutes until he finally sighed and said, “I’m glad you’re alive. Do you have any idea the hell we’ve been going through? What about...our...baby?”
A smile broke through her concerned expression. With relief, she replied, “Our baby is well.”
Finally, he spoke coherently, “Thank God”—She didn’t know if it was anger or pain; either way, his words were laced with emotion—“How in the hell did you do this? Where are you? And where is my money?”
“It’s nice to hear from you, too. I’m sure you’re confused, but”—her tone mellowed—“I’ve missed you, and I’m glad the reports of your untimely demise were also exaggerated.”
“Claire, what the hell is happening?” He repeated, “Where are you? And where is my money?”
“I’m here, and your money is nicely invested. You’ll be happy to know it’s made some unexpected positive returns—of late. You know, with the recent increase in oil options.”
“I’m thrilled.” He exhaled. “Where is here?”
“Of course, I’m considering a heavier investment in logistics. I’ve read that it’s the wave of the future. Manufacturing has so many variables.”
“Could we forgo the discussion on investment options? I want to know what you’ve done.”
“And I want my life—the one we just had. Can we both get what we want?”
His voice reminded her of the business Anthony Rawlings; assessing the climate and gathering the facts. “Were you taken? Or did you leave me?”
“Tony, do you trust me?”
“What?”
“Do you trust me?”
“I want to, but you left me—again. You took my money”—His volume, once again, increased—“How? How did you even know about it?”
Her resolve was fading. If he hung up, then it was over. She didn’t want that. “Tony, I made a mistake—many mistakes. I believed someone else—instead of trusting you—and living up to our promise. I’ve learned the truth, and I want you to know that I trust you, and I’m so sorry.”
Tony struggled for words. “Someone else? W—what are you talking about?”
“We’re both children of children...and so is our child...”
Initially, he remained silent. Claire wondered if he was truly processing her meaning. Finally, he asked, “How did you pull this off?”
“Trust me, and we’ll see it through together.”
“I don’t seem to have any other choice.”
“Actually, you do,” Claire said as she looked at the large diamond engagement ring hanging from the gold chain around her neck. Although she hadn’t been wearing it on her finger, she never gave it away, sold it, or let it be far from her. She’d followed his rules; nevertheless, she needed to give him an out. If she didn’t then she’d always wonder if he wanted her or the money.