Convicted
Page 57
He’d bet everything on the money in his accounts. Hovering somewhere around 200 million, the possibilities for that money were limitless. His world began to crack and cave in when he signed the ledger. Tony knew, without a doubt, Catherine hadn’t traveled to Switzerland and accessed their accounts. She hadn’t stolen Tony’s money out from under him; nevertheless, on the ledger, and on two separate occasions, he saw the signature—C. Marie Rawls.
When he first heard Claire’s voice, Tony’s world exploded—the relief was instantaneous. Claire was alive! Their child was safe! He almost experienced a giddiness he’d never known; then all at once, the sensation evaporated and crimson saturated his happiness. No longer did he think about Claire’s safety—that was apparently assured. Now, the obvious dominated his thoughts—Claire willingly left him and stole his money.
As she spoke, he heard memories of her proclamations. Over the years, Claire had repeatedly told him that his money didn’t matter, yet somehow, he was standing on the street in Geneva, Switzerland, minus almost 199 million dollars. Claire quipped something about growing his investment. The only damn investment she needed to grow was inside of her. No! He reminded himself, she’d stolen that too.
Claire’s accusation made no sense. Who would know they were both children of children? The only person was Catherine, and Tony and Catherine had been together—forever. It wasn’t like they were together; however, they’d always been there for one another. He recalled catching her when she fell down the stairs, helping her after the incident—or rather accident—with his parents, and securing her freedom with annual payments to Patrick Chester.
It hadn’t all been one-sided. Catherine had helped Tony too. After Claire’s accident, Catherine was the one who convinced him not to call the police. She contrived the story that later became their statement. She helped with Claire, especially when he first brought her to the estate. Catherine taught her lessons that Claire needed to know. Tony knew he loved Claire, but he also knew he couldn’t abandon Catherine—not after everything they’d been through.
Anthony Rawlings was a businessman. He looked objectively at information and analyzed the ledgers. When he compared the two columns—he, unfortunately, saw more cons on Claire’s side. Catherine had been his rock, and more importantly—Tony’s connection to Nathaniel for as long as he could remember.
Then, there was the arranged meeting! Agent Jackson wanted Tony at Mulligan’s. From Tony’s perspective, it was ridiculous. If the FBI knew where he was then why not come to him? No, the directive was to meet at a public place.
Even days removed, the memories fueled Tony’s rage. Agent Baldwin—Agent! Harrison Baldwin was an FBI agent?! Why? And how? And when? Was it before or after he was with Claire?
After the initial shock, Baldwin convinced Tony to sit. It was then that Baldwin began some tirade about plants. Baldwin asked about Tony’s knowledge regarding plants. Although a few smart-ass answers came to mind, Tony honestly replied, “Nothing. I don’t know shit about plants; well, other than what I’ve learned from Claire.”
It was after the mentioning of Claire’s name that Baldwin got some sick smile on his face and smirked. “So, Rawlings, how is Claire?”
“I haven’t seen her in a while. You know that. I called you when she first went missing.”
“Missing? I guess she is...depending on whom you ask.”
Tony’s patience was spent on the call with Claire—no more remained. “What the hell do you mean?”
“Well, as a matter of fact, just the other day”—Baldwin offered his phone, turning the screen toward Tony—“I was in Venice, and she was in Venice...you can see—she’s well. Oh, she’s staying in disguise”—he lowered his voice—“I believe that’s because she’s hiding from some threat, someone possibly, but if you look closely, I’m sure you can tell it’s her.”
Tony stared at the picture—Claire and Baldwin with their hands entwined. Tony didn’t know what else was said. The rest of their conversation vanished behind a rush of rage. In hindsight, it was a good thing Baldwin made his federal status known. If he hadn’t, Tony might have been able to add bodily harm of a federal agent to his resume. Before Tony left the pub, he turned back to Baldwin and asked, “One question, asshole, was Claire some kind of informant—an assignment?”
It was the first sign of true emotion Tony saw on Baldwin’s face as he replied, “At first, she was, but it became more.”
When he first heard Claire’s voice, Tony’s world exploded—the relief was instantaneous. Claire was alive! Their child was safe! He almost experienced a giddiness he’d never known; then all at once, the sensation evaporated and crimson saturated his happiness. No longer did he think about Claire’s safety—that was apparently assured. Now, the obvious dominated his thoughts—Claire willingly left him and stole his money.
As she spoke, he heard memories of her proclamations. Over the years, Claire had repeatedly told him that his money didn’t matter, yet somehow, he was standing on the street in Geneva, Switzerland, minus almost 199 million dollars. Claire quipped something about growing his investment. The only damn investment she needed to grow was inside of her. No! He reminded himself, she’d stolen that too.
Claire’s accusation made no sense. Who would know they were both children of children? The only person was Catherine, and Tony and Catherine had been together—forever. It wasn’t like they were together; however, they’d always been there for one another. He recalled catching her when she fell down the stairs, helping her after the incident—or rather accident—with his parents, and securing her freedom with annual payments to Patrick Chester.
It hadn’t all been one-sided. Catherine had helped Tony too. After Claire’s accident, Catherine was the one who convinced him not to call the police. She contrived the story that later became their statement. She helped with Claire, especially when he first brought her to the estate. Catherine taught her lessons that Claire needed to know. Tony knew he loved Claire, but he also knew he couldn’t abandon Catherine—not after everything they’d been through.
Anthony Rawlings was a businessman. He looked objectively at information and analyzed the ledgers. When he compared the two columns—he, unfortunately, saw more cons on Claire’s side. Catherine had been his rock, and more importantly—Tony’s connection to Nathaniel for as long as he could remember.
Then, there was the arranged meeting! Agent Jackson wanted Tony at Mulligan’s. From Tony’s perspective, it was ridiculous. If the FBI knew where he was then why not come to him? No, the directive was to meet at a public place.
Even days removed, the memories fueled Tony’s rage. Agent Baldwin—Agent! Harrison Baldwin was an FBI agent?! Why? And how? And when? Was it before or after he was with Claire?
After the initial shock, Baldwin convinced Tony to sit. It was then that Baldwin began some tirade about plants. Baldwin asked about Tony’s knowledge regarding plants. Although a few smart-ass answers came to mind, Tony honestly replied, “Nothing. I don’t know shit about plants; well, other than what I’ve learned from Claire.”
It was after the mentioning of Claire’s name that Baldwin got some sick smile on his face and smirked. “So, Rawlings, how is Claire?”
“I haven’t seen her in a while. You know that. I called you when she first went missing.”
“Missing? I guess she is...depending on whom you ask.”
Tony’s patience was spent on the call with Claire—no more remained. “What the hell do you mean?”
“Well, as a matter of fact, just the other day”—Baldwin offered his phone, turning the screen toward Tony—“I was in Venice, and she was in Venice...you can see—she’s well. Oh, she’s staying in disguise”—he lowered his voice—“I believe that’s because she’s hiding from some threat, someone possibly, but if you look closely, I’m sure you can tell it’s her.”
Tony stared at the picture—Claire and Baldwin with their hands entwined. Tony didn’t know what else was said. The rest of their conversation vanished behind a rush of rage. In hindsight, it was a good thing Baldwin made his federal status known. If he hadn’t, Tony might have been able to add bodily harm of a federal agent to his resume. Before Tony left the pub, he turned back to Baldwin and asked, “One question, asshole, was Claire some kind of informant—an assignment?”
It was the first sign of true emotion Tony saw on Baldwin’s face as he replied, “At first, she was, but it became more.”
