Beyond the Consequences (Book 5 of the Consequences Series)

Straightening her shoulders, Claire shook her head. “I don’t mind your taking a seat. I’m a little nervous that you think this conversation requires that.” She feigned a smile. “Or maybe you just want to catch up? Tell me that’s all it is. I’ll have some coffee brought in and we can chat.”


Phil shook his head. “Catching up sounds nice, but I have a lot to do right now. First thing after our chat, I need to go through that stack of mail—”

Claire leaned forward on her desk, and interrupted, “Fine, tell me. Tell me why you are concerned, and don’t tell me you aren’t. I hear it in your voice.”

“Claire, I’m sure Rawlings wanted to be the one to tell you. I’ll just take a quick look at that stack and leave you alone.”

Claire eyed the large pile of letters. Most were regular sized; a few were larger. There were a couple of thicker envelopes. Squaring her shoulders she turned back. “Phil, the packages that we’ve received in the past have been addressed to me, or to Claire Nichols-Rawls, so I deserve to know what else has been delivered. I deserve to know what progress has been made. Just because Tony hasn’t mentioned it—yet—doesn’t negate my right to know. Besides,” she added with a grin, “I thought you worked for me.”

His shoulders relaxed as he exhaled. “You know I do.”

Her emerald eyes sparkled, knowing she’d won. “Then tell me.”

Claire watched the deliberation he wasn’t voicing as Phil shifted slightly in his seat. Each second of silence added to her concern. Finally, he spoke. “You see, we’ve talked about it. I just don’t want to upset you, not after everything you’ve been—”

“Stop,” she said softly. “I’m not going to break. I’ll admit, I came close, but it won’t happen. Truly, Phil, I’m good. Not knowing scares me more than knowing. I honestly don’t think that Tony intended to keep whatever this was from me. By the time we had a chance for some privacy last night, well, we were both exhausted. I mean, we all were and still are. We’ve only been home a little over twenty-four hours.”

She pushed her chair back and stood, motioning toward the mail. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll go get some coffee. You knock yourself out with the mail, but first, tell me about the last threatening mailing we received and what you know.”

Phil nodded. “It came here, to the estate, while we were all in the South Pacific. Eric and I knew about it right away. We didn’t say anything until after the FBI finished their tests. It was clean: no explosives, no chemicals.”

Claire pondered. “While we were gone? When did you tell Tony?”

“After we had the results.”

“Phil, when did you tell Tony?” She emphasized the word.

It was one thing for Tony not to mention it if he’d only learned about it yesterday. It was quite another thing if he’d known about it longer—a lot longer.

“It was right before Christmas.” He hastened to add, “Everything was fine. There was no threat and no reason to worry you when you had so much going on. God, Claire, it was Christmas. Not exactly the time you want to hear about any of this.”

“I don’t care if it’s my birthday—I deserve to know.”

She walked to the front of the desk, stood before Phil and took a deep breath. This was definitely a matter she and Tony would be discussing. Softening her tone, she continued. “We—you and I—have been through a lot. I can’t thank you enough for your devotion to me, Tony, and Nichol.”

At the mention of her daughter’s name, she saw Phil’s expression momentarily change. It was almost too fast to discern. A second later it was gone. Claire’s stomach turned. “Wait. Something was different about the last mailing, wasn’t it? Oh, my God.”

The temperature of the room fell; the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. “Tell me it wasn’t addressed to Nichol.”

Phil shook his head. “I can’t.”

The trembling came from nowhere. Suddenly, the cozy home office was a bleak frozen tundra.

Aleatha Romig's books