He didn’t want to believe she chose to leave him. Yet, on another level, he did. If she left of her own free will, she was safe. Their baby was safe. If, as he suspected, she’d been lured away and was at the hands of some maniac, her future and that of their baby’s were unknown.
With each passing day doubts infiltrated his mind. If she left of her own free will, had any of the past four months been real? She’d accepted his ring. He told her every day how much he loved her. Had it all been a charade? Did she have her own agenda of revenge for his past sins? Tony didn’t want to think so... he just didn’t know.
Tony scanned his emails. Nothing caught his attention. He didn’t care anymore. Thankfully he had Tim, Tom, and Brent. For all practical purposes, Tim was running Rawlings Industries. Brent and Tom were busy with company matters as well as Tony’s personal matters. The Vandersols were taking every opportunity to declare Tony’s guilt to the world. Hell, at this point he’d turn himself in, if it would bring Claire home.
The large office doors opened. Catherine entered. “I came to check on you.”
“I’m fine.” His furrowed brow and the dark circles under his deep wrinkled eyes said otherwise.
“Anton, I’m sorry I didn’t try to stop her.”
Tony shook his head, “I’m not having this discussion with you.”
“But the Vandersols? If they have their way, you will be taken in on questioning, soon.”
“They’re vindictive idiots. The prosecutor will see through them.”
“Yes – but if her memoirs are published, it appears...”
Tony’s eyes pierced, “What did you say?”
Catherine straightened her neck. “I said, if Claire’s memoirs are published, the world will know about your predisposition toward violence.”
His eyes darkened with each word, “Catherine, you know I had nothing to do with her disappearance.”
She sat as her tone mellowed, “I do. But I understand the Vandersol’s concern.”
Tony’s attention turned toward his emails. One caught his attention. He clicked and read. According to his informant, Sophia had returned to Provincetown following her parents’ funeral. Under normal circumstances, he would have attended their funeral. These, however, were anything but normal. He looked back to Catherine.
“You judge me? You haven’t given a damn about your daughter in thirty plus years.”
Catherine sat straighter. “I’ll have that discussion with you in another thirty years, when you haven’t had contact with your child. Then we can discuss similarities.”
His hand hit his desk. The pen set and wireless mouse helplessly jumped. “I’ve told you your daughter lost her adoptive parents. Yet, you don’t give a damn!”
She leaned toward him, questioning, “Did you?”
“Of course not!” His eyebrows rose. “Did you?”
“You know, I don’t even know her name.”
This was only their second open conversation on the subject of Catherine’s daughter.
“I doubt there is anything in this house you don’t know. Her information is in my private files.”
Catherine exhaled, “How did it happen? How did her parents die?”
“I’m not sure.” Tony shrugged. “Her adoptive father was beginning to show signs of dementia. He was driving.”
Catherine’s eyes closed. Dementia... her thoughts immediately went to Sharron Rawls. “How bad?” Her voice was but a whisper.
Tony sat straighter, “He wasn’t like grandmother, not yet.”
“Then she’s better off. At least she didn’t need to witness...”
Tony closed his eyes, “Catherine, she could use a parent.”
Her gray eyes stared; the silence grew. Finally she replied, “Mr. Rawlings, I am sure you will do whatever you feel is best. I have made my feelings clear.” She stood and started toward the door. Suddenly she turned back toward the desk, “Mr. Evergreen called -- again. He wants to speak with you in person.”
Tony turned from Catherine back to the computer screen. The NASDEQ indicator for Rawlings Industries displayed the stock’s continued downward spiral. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t responsible for Claire’s disappearance. The effects of the Vandersol’s claims were also being felt on the Dow Jones. He checked his watch. At least the weekend would stall the continued drop. There were only a few more minutes until the end of Friday’s trading session. The fun would resume again on Monday.
He picked up the telephone. “Hello, this is Anthony Rawlings. I’d like to speak to Marcus Evergreen.” “I see.” “Please inform him I have business taking me out of town for a few days. I should be back by Monday.” “Thank you.”
Next, he used his iPhone and called Eric. “Get the plane ready. I’m leaving for Provincetown in a few hours.”
*****