Claire shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess time will tell.” She wondered how she and Phil had come this far, how their interaction had become so casual. Given their initial meeting in San Antonio, it seemed unlikely. Sighing, Claire turned back toward the window as the car slowed. It seemed very few of the relationships in her life could boast normal beginnings. Placing her hand gingerly over her midsection, she prayed for a normal ending.
Their reservations on Air France had them leaving Geneva early in the afternoon and flying directly to Rome. They both knew they’d miss their flight. Phil had a private plane waiting to whisk them away from Switzerland and take them directly to Venice. Claire’s new-found wealth allowed him the luxury of creating a rather tangled web of trails. She wasn’t sure if anyone would seriously try to unravel their trail, but if they did, she agreed Phil was making it difficult.
Once they arrived in Venice, their identities would again change. Sometimes Claire felt as though she needed a name tag to help her answer to the correct name. She really didn’t care what name she used as long as she could forgo the wigs and colored contacts.
Unfortunately, her sister, Emily, was working overtime to keep Claire’s name and face in the news. The last information Claire read online said she was still missing and speculations were centered on Anthony Rawlings. It reassured Claire to know that her call to Evergreen cleared Tony’s name.
If Claire could make one more call, it would be to Emily. As she and Phil rode toward the airport, she remembered how it felt to have her communication restricted by Tony. Ironically, she recognized she was once again in the same situation. This time, Claire didn’t know who to blame. Was it Catherine’s fault? After all, she was the reason Claire fled. Or was it Tony’s? If he’d never taken her—Claire couldn’t even imagine that scenario. Her life was so different than anything she’d foreseen in her youth; nevertheless, she reminded herself if Tony had never taken her then she wouldn’t be having his child. Tears threatened to permeate her colored contacts as Claire accepted the truth. Her current state, current deception of friends and family was self-imposed. She couldn’t place blame anywhere but on the woman in the mirror, no matter who she looked like at any given moment. Once again, her impulsivity played into her opponent’s hand. When the cards were dealt, Claire should’ve demanded a re-deal. She should’ve stayed true to the agreement she’d made with Tony, and she should’ve trusted him; instead, she wagered with fear and went full in.
The payoff, the safety of her child, was too important. Claire needed to see the game through until the end—folding wasn’t an option.
Mr. Evergreen explained that the FBI would soon be involved and instructed Claire to check in periodically. Evergreen warned that the FBI would more than likely want direct contact; however, Claire wasn’t willing to give the prosecutor anything more than Geneva as her current location. She’d lived through too many lies to trust anyone.
Claire agreed to Evergreen’s terms in that she’d remain hidden and safe. During her conversation with Marcus, she didn’t mention she had assistance. The information didn’t seem relevant. In this high stakes poker game, Phil was her ace in the hole.
Claire appreciated Phil’s concern. His desires toward her had been acknowledged. She knew that she was more than a job to him. If circumstances were different, she might entertain the idea of reciprocation; however, he understood her stance. Her acceptance of his platonic affection was purely for her and her child’s safety. She’d promised Marcus Evergreen she’d remain temporarily under the radar, and in return, he’d keep Tony safe. Phil helped her fulfill her side of that agreement.
Ten days later…
Harry looked at the screen of his phone and his eyes grew wide. Glancing around the room, he saw Amber’s expression. No doubt, by his sudden change in demeanor, she knew something was up. He steadied his expression and nodded.
“Who is it?” Amber asked in a hushed tone as the rest of the room continued chatting.
Harry didn’t respond; instead, he stepped quickly from Amber’s kitchen and the collective ears present. Before he knew it, Harry was standing in Claire’s old bedroom and answering his phone, “Hello, this is Agent Baldwin.”