Convicted
Page 177
All coherent thought forgot to register—the grand office was a hue of crimson. Though Tony didn’t know what he was about to do, he knew, without a doubt, it was about to happen. He took two steps toward her, and Catherine’s gaze didn’t waver. He took one more step—when suddenly, the phone on the desk rang breaking the deafening silence. They both turned and stared at the source of the ring, as if it were an alien life form infiltrating their private storm. Finally, their eyes met. The phone which was ringing was the estate’s private number, known only by a few people. On the fourth ring, Catherine asked condescendingly, “Mr. Rawlings, would you like to answer that?”
Clenching his jaw, he took a step back and motioned toward the phone. Although seconds earlier they’d both been visibly upset, as she answered the call, her voice held no indication of unease. Tony stood and listened.
“Yes, this is Ms. London.” “I see.” “When did this happen?” The menacing smile from earlier reappeared as she replied, “That is terrible.” Walking around to the other side of his desk, Catherine sat and reached for a paper and pen. “Can you please give me that information one more time?” He couldn’t see the words as she scribbled on the blank page. “Thank you, for the information. I’ll pass it on to Mrs. Burke. Please, keep me informed.” “Goodbye.” When she hung up, she leaned back against the soft leather and shook her head. “Tisk, tisk—It’s such a shame.”
Her words, combined with her expression, sent shivers down his spine; nonetheless, Anthony Rawlings had never backed away from a challenge—today wouldn’t be an exception.
“I believe you’re in my seat.” Ice dripped from his words.
“I believe I am”—she stood and motioned toward it—“Please, enjoy it while you can. I believe it would be better for you to hear this news while seated.”
He didn’t move forward; instead, he stood taller, towering over her with every bit of his six and a half foot build. “Why? What have you done?”
“Yes, it’s always me, isn’t it? Mr. Anthony Rawlings never got his hands dirty! We all know how important it was to appear innocent.”
“Catherine?”
She lowered herself once again to his chair and explained, “As executor of your estate, I’m kept abreast of pertinent Rawlings Industries information.”
He nodded.
“It seems as though one of Rawlings’ private jets has gone down.”
Tony’s knees buckled as he fought to remain standing. “Down?”
“There was a distress call, and shortly after, the plane disappeared from radar. The FAA is investigating—it’s assumed the plane has crashed. There’s no information regarding survivors—none are expected.”
“Why, Catherine? Who’s on that plane?”
Before Catherine could answer, they heard a knock at the door. Turning toward the sound, they both stared in silence. The second knock echoed as they waited. Finally, deliberately, Catherine walked to the door and opened it—at first, only she could see the person on the other side.
Initially, Tony didn’t recognize the voice. “I’m sorry, if I’m bothering you, I just finished the movie. If you’re still busy, I was thinking I may go for a walk—your gardens are lovely, even this early in the Spring.”
Catherine opened the door wider and ushered Sophia into the office. “No, Sophia, you aren’t bothering us”—leaning her head toward Tony, she said—“I’m sure you recognize Mr. Rawlings.”
Surprised by Catherine’s candid introduction, Tony worked to keep his external calm.
Sophia stopped and stared. “But I thought you were—”
Catherine interrupted, “We all did—it’s a miracle. He just came back moments ago.”
Tony stepped forward and offered his hand in greeting. “Mrs. Burke, I apologize for my abrupt departure a few months ago. I so wish we could’ve continued our conversation—I believe it would’ve been very enlightening.”
Before Sophia could respond, Catherine interjected, “Sophia, my dear, please have a seat. I’m afraid I have some terrible news to share.”
Tony’s back straightened, the muscles of his neck twitched, and the hairs stood to attention. Suddenly, he knew exactly what Catherine was about to say.
“My dear”—Catherine sat on the sofa next to Sophia. Taking Sophia’s hand in hers, she began—“We just received a call. I don’t know any way to say this, except quickly.”
Clenching his jaw, he took a step back and motioned toward the phone. Although seconds earlier they’d both been visibly upset, as she answered the call, her voice held no indication of unease. Tony stood and listened.
“Yes, this is Ms. London.” “I see.” “When did this happen?” The menacing smile from earlier reappeared as she replied, “That is terrible.” Walking around to the other side of his desk, Catherine sat and reached for a paper and pen. “Can you please give me that information one more time?” He couldn’t see the words as she scribbled on the blank page. “Thank you, for the information. I’ll pass it on to Mrs. Burke. Please, keep me informed.” “Goodbye.” When she hung up, she leaned back against the soft leather and shook her head. “Tisk, tisk—It’s such a shame.”
Her words, combined with her expression, sent shivers down his spine; nonetheless, Anthony Rawlings had never backed away from a challenge—today wouldn’t be an exception.
“I believe you’re in my seat.” Ice dripped from his words.
“I believe I am”—she stood and motioned toward it—“Please, enjoy it while you can. I believe it would be better for you to hear this news while seated.”
He didn’t move forward; instead, he stood taller, towering over her with every bit of his six and a half foot build. “Why? What have you done?”
“Yes, it’s always me, isn’t it? Mr. Anthony Rawlings never got his hands dirty! We all know how important it was to appear innocent.”
“Catherine?”
She lowered herself once again to his chair and explained, “As executor of your estate, I’m kept abreast of pertinent Rawlings Industries information.”
He nodded.
“It seems as though one of Rawlings’ private jets has gone down.”
Tony’s knees buckled as he fought to remain standing. “Down?”
“There was a distress call, and shortly after, the plane disappeared from radar. The FAA is investigating—it’s assumed the plane has crashed. There’s no information regarding survivors—none are expected.”
“Why, Catherine? Who’s on that plane?”
Before Catherine could answer, they heard a knock at the door. Turning toward the sound, they both stared in silence. The second knock echoed as they waited. Finally, deliberately, Catherine walked to the door and opened it—at first, only she could see the person on the other side.
Initially, Tony didn’t recognize the voice. “I’m sorry, if I’m bothering you, I just finished the movie. If you’re still busy, I was thinking I may go for a walk—your gardens are lovely, even this early in the Spring.”
Catherine opened the door wider and ushered Sophia into the office. “No, Sophia, you aren’t bothering us”—leaning her head toward Tony, she said—“I’m sure you recognize Mr. Rawlings.”
Surprised by Catherine’s candid introduction, Tony worked to keep his external calm.
Sophia stopped and stared. “But I thought you were—”
Catherine interrupted, “We all did—it’s a miracle. He just came back moments ago.”
Tony stepped forward and offered his hand in greeting. “Mrs. Burke, I apologize for my abrupt departure a few months ago. I so wish we could’ve continued our conversation—I believe it would’ve been very enlightening.”
Before Sophia could respond, Catherine interjected, “Sophia, my dear, please have a seat. I’m afraid I have some terrible news to share.”
Tony’s back straightened, the muscles of his neck twitched, and the hairs stood to attention. Suddenly, he knew exactly what Catherine was about to say.
“My dear”—Catherine sat on the sofa next to Sophia. Taking Sophia’s hand in hers, she began—“We just received a call. I don’t know any way to say this, except quickly.”
