Beyond the Consequences
Page 18
Claire shivered. “Thank God you two were there.”
“With his history, at a minimum he’s looking at being institutionalized. With the illegal audio surveillance and the firearms charge he’s facing much stiffer penalties. Mr. Simmons has already petitioned for a restraining order. Don’t worry. He’s not coming near any of you,” Phil replied.
“Confirm the timeline. When did Rudolf start his quest?” Tony asked.
“It seems as though it was near Nichol’s birthday,” Phil confirmed.
“That means that Nichol’s birthday gift, the doll, was from him?”
Phil nodded toward Claire. “Yes. The doll was addressed to Nichol Rawlings. The card, no. It was addressed to Nichol Rawls and had the female DNA.”
Tony wrapped his arm around Claire. “As you said, one down and one to go.”
“Mrs. Rawlings,” Taylor began, “it’s an ongoing investigation. The FBI has been working with Phil closely. As a matter-of-fact…”
Phil’s gaze shot toward Taylor.
“…we’re hoping for more information anytime now,” she continued.
“Is there anything else?” Tony asked, his gaze darkening as he looked from Phil to Taylor.
Phil and Taylor exchanged glances. “No, that about covers it,” Phil responded, as the two of them stood to leave the office.
“I know I keep saying it. Somehow it seems insufficient, but thank you for everything,” Claire said with a strained smile.
Taylor and Phil nodded as they both disappeared behind the door.
Once they were alone, Claire raised her brow and asked Tony, “Did you see that?”
“What? That they have something they’re not saying?”
“No. The way they looked back and forth at one another, and the way Phil said we.”
“Yes, I guess.” Tony wrinkled his brow. “Why? I have no idea what you’re asking.”
“I think Phil’s getting used to having someone else around. I mean, he’s pretty much been in control of all things security, and although he was instrumental with our hiring Taylor, I got the feeling he felt like she was invading his turf. It just seems like after this, well, she was able to be in the bathroom with us when he couldn’t. If she hadn’t been there, and he’d been outside, who knows what would have happened.”
“I don’t even want to think about it.”
Claire grinned. “I like it. It’s good for him. I think he spends too much time alone.”
Tony shrugged. “He’s got Eric.”
“I don’t think it’s the same thing,” she said with a smirk.
Shaking his head, Tony pressed his lips together. “Mrs. Rawlings, don’t play matchmaker. I want Phil and Taylor’s attention on you and Nichol, not on one another.”
“No one said they can’t do both.”
Decision is the courageous facing of issues, knowing that if they are not faced, problems will remain forever unanswered.
—Wilfred A. Peterson
ONCE WITHIN THE hallway, Phil and Taylor moved silently away from the Rawlingses’ office toward the security hub for the estate. As they approached their destination, Phil’s gaze narrowed toward his new associate. Finally he voiced the question he’d been burning to ask, “What the hell did you almost say in there?”
Taylor’s neck straightened. “I was going to mention the possible location of Mr. Rawlings’ past assistant, Patricia Miles. She’s the prime suspect, and in their last report the FBI said that she was recently suspected to reside in a small town in Minnesota under an alias.”
“I didn’t share that information with you. How do you know that?”
Taylor’s hands found her hips as her voice dropped an octave. “I’m part of this team.” She motioned down the corridor toward the closed office doors. “Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings have accepted me. Eric has accepted my role. Maybe it’s time you eased up on your one-man crusade and accept that I’m here to help.”
“I never said you weren’t here to help. Helping doesn’t include scaring Claire or upsetting Rawlings with unsubstantiated information.”
“What’s unsubstantiated? I read the report. Patricia Miles is believed to be living as Melissa Garrison and working for a small law practice in Olivia, Minnesota. More definitive results are due back in a matter of weeks.”
Phil bristled. “There are some things that are better left unsaid.”
“Team, Mr. Roach, that’s how this works. Teams talk; they share.”
Phil reached out to grab Taylor’s elbow. “You want to talk about it? Fine, talk to me. Talk to Eric. Do not take this to either Rawlings or Claire until we have definitive answers. Even then, talk to me first. Security for this family is my detail.”
Taylor pulled her elbow free. “Excuse me, who was there when Rudolf came out of the stall? Who figured out the connection with Sophie?”
“I’m not saying that your assistance hasn’t been valued. What you did in New York was, well, it was more than I could’ve done, but you don’t understand all that they’ve been through, especially her.”
“Her? Your employer? Mr. Rawlings’s wife?”
Phil took a step back, assessing the meaning of Taylor’s question. “Yes, her. Her last few years have been difficult. She doesn’t need additional stress.”
As Taylor began to speak, Phil’s mind flashed with memories—snapshots in time—beginning when he received the call from Brent Simmons: the first time he’d heard the name Claire Nichols. At the time, it seemed simple enough. Phil had done investigative work for Simmons in the past. This time he was asked if he could locate a lost woman and work temporary surveillance. That was almost four years ago. Four years. Phil hadn’t spent four consecutive years with anyone since he left his parents’ home and joined the military. Four years was a lifetime: more than Nichol’s lifetime.
“With his history, at a minimum he’s looking at being institutionalized. With the illegal audio surveillance and the firearms charge he’s facing much stiffer penalties. Mr. Simmons has already petitioned for a restraining order. Don’t worry. He’s not coming near any of you,” Phil replied.
“Confirm the timeline. When did Rudolf start his quest?” Tony asked.
“It seems as though it was near Nichol’s birthday,” Phil confirmed.
“That means that Nichol’s birthday gift, the doll, was from him?”
Phil nodded toward Claire. “Yes. The doll was addressed to Nichol Rawlings. The card, no. It was addressed to Nichol Rawls and had the female DNA.”
Tony wrapped his arm around Claire. “As you said, one down and one to go.”
“Mrs. Rawlings,” Taylor began, “it’s an ongoing investigation. The FBI has been working with Phil closely. As a matter-of-fact…”
Phil’s gaze shot toward Taylor.
“…we’re hoping for more information anytime now,” she continued.
“Is there anything else?” Tony asked, his gaze darkening as he looked from Phil to Taylor.
Phil and Taylor exchanged glances. “No, that about covers it,” Phil responded, as the two of them stood to leave the office.
“I know I keep saying it. Somehow it seems insufficient, but thank you for everything,” Claire said with a strained smile.
Taylor and Phil nodded as they both disappeared behind the door.
Once they were alone, Claire raised her brow and asked Tony, “Did you see that?”
“What? That they have something they’re not saying?”
“No. The way they looked back and forth at one another, and the way Phil said we.”
“Yes, I guess.” Tony wrinkled his brow. “Why? I have no idea what you’re asking.”
“I think Phil’s getting used to having someone else around. I mean, he’s pretty much been in control of all things security, and although he was instrumental with our hiring Taylor, I got the feeling he felt like she was invading his turf. It just seems like after this, well, she was able to be in the bathroom with us when he couldn’t. If she hadn’t been there, and he’d been outside, who knows what would have happened.”
“I don’t even want to think about it.”
Claire grinned. “I like it. It’s good for him. I think he spends too much time alone.”
Tony shrugged. “He’s got Eric.”
“I don’t think it’s the same thing,” she said with a smirk.
Shaking his head, Tony pressed his lips together. “Mrs. Rawlings, don’t play matchmaker. I want Phil and Taylor’s attention on you and Nichol, not on one another.”
“No one said they can’t do both.”
Decision is the courageous facing of issues, knowing that if they are not faced, problems will remain forever unanswered.
—Wilfred A. Peterson
ONCE WITHIN THE hallway, Phil and Taylor moved silently away from the Rawlingses’ office toward the security hub for the estate. As they approached their destination, Phil’s gaze narrowed toward his new associate. Finally he voiced the question he’d been burning to ask, “What the hell did you almost say in there?”
Taylor’s neck straightened. “I was going to mention the possible location of Mr. Rawlings’ past assistant, Patricia Miles. She’s the prime suspect, and in their last report the FBI said that she was recently suspected to reside in a small town in Minnesota under an alias.”
“I didn’t share that information with you. How do you know that?”
Taylor’s hands found her hips as her voice dropped an octave. “I’m part of this team.” She motioned down the corridor toward the closed office doors. “Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings have accepted me. Eric has accepted my role. Maybe it’s time you eased up on your one-man crusade and accept that I’m here to help.”
“I never said you weren’t here to help. Helping doesn’t include scaring Claire or upsetting Rawlings with unsubstantiated information.”
“What’s unsubstantiated? I read the report. Patricia Miles is believed to be living as Melissa Garrison and working for a small law practice in Olivia, Minnesota. More definitive results are due back in a matter of weeks.”
Phil bristled. “There are some things that are better left unsaid.”
“Team, Mr. Roach, that’s how this works. Teams talk; they share.”
Phil reached out to grab Taylor’s elbow. “You want to talk about it? Fine, talk to me. Talk to Eric. Do not take this to either Rawlings or Claire until we have definitive answers. Even then, talk to me first. Security for this family is my detail.”
Taylor pulled her elbow free. “Excuse me, who was there when Rudolf came out of the stall? Who figured out the connection with Sophie?”
“I’m not saying that your assistance hasn’t been valued. What you did in New York was, well, it was more than I could’ve done, but you don’t understand all that they’ve been through, especially her.”
“Her? Your employer? Mr. Rawlings’s wife?”
Phil took a step back, assessing the meaning of Taylor’s question. “Yes, her. Her last few years have been difficult. She doesn’t need additional stress.”
As Taylor began to speak, Phil’s mind flashed with memories—snapshots in time—beginning when he received the call from Brent Simmons: the first time he’d heard the name Claire Nichols. At the time, it seemed simple enough. Phil had done investigative work for Simmons in the past. This time he was asked if he could locate a lost woman and work temporary surveillance. That was almost four years ago. Four years. Phil hadn’t spent four consecutive years with anyone since he left his parents’ home and joined the military. Four years was a lifetime: more than Nichol’s lifetime.
