Convicted
Page 89
Tony kissed her neck. “Sweetheart, the man determines the sex.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Not tonight—he didn’t.”
“If you’re up for round two, I’m pretty sure we could even the score.”
“I think I’m going to wash the chlorine out of my hair. If it’s not too dominating of a suggestion, as you already know the shower is quite large, you may join me?”
Tony smirked. “Are you suggesting water conservation? I mean, I’m all for conserving resources.”
Later that night with the score one to one, Claire fell sound to sleep, listening to the soothing rhythm of Tony’s heartbeat. Fleetingly, she thought about Tony’s revelation. It was only the beginning, and they both knew there was much more to discuss. Their conversations in the past and in the future always had one rule—honesty. Tony had followed that rule—and in essence, so had Claire. If she’d pretended his statement didn’t bother her, then she wouldn’t have been honest. Her last thought as she drifted away was of Tony’s warning. Claire decided he was right—the truth could be better handled in small manageable pieces. It was like her old way of dealing—compartmentalization. The difference was—instead of hiding the secrets in the compartments—this time, they were bringing them out.
When Claire woke in the morning, her world was still dark. As her eyelids fluttered and her lashes grazed the satin, she realized the darkness was her sleeping mask. Claire removed it from her eyes and reached toward Tony’s empty place in bed. It was already after 9:00 AM, and he was gone, probably off somewhere exploring the island or with Francis. Thankful for the extra sleep the mask brought, Claire thought pensively about the night before, and warm memories filled her thoughts. When she thought about falling asleep, she realized that she hadn’t been wearing the sleep mask. Shaking her head ever so slightly, a smile came to her lips. That’s another point for Tony! Perhaps soon she could even that score.
“I understand, sir,” Agent Baldwin said into his phone.
“Yes, Deputy Director, I’ll be back in San Francisco tomorrow evening.”
“Thank you, goodbye.”
Harry hit the DISCONNECT button and collapsed into the hotel chair. The conversation wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined. Although he’d lost track of both Claire and Rawlings, through the use of digital face recognition, they’d been identified at different times at airports in Papau, New Guinea. Claire was identified at the Baimuru Airport, whereas Rawlings was identified at the Daru Airport.
It’s believed they are staying somewhere in the South Pacific—recognizably, this was a broad generalization. The area in question contained thousands of islands of varying sizes. Many of the island nations in this region rely heavily on tourism and have been known to be very welcoming and accommodating to wealthy residents. As a rule—questions were rarely asked.
Since they were no longer in Europe, Agent Baldwin was ordered to return to the field office in San Francisco. Although he didn’t mention it on the phone call, Harry vowed to share his research with SAC Williams or anyone who’d listen. He needed FBI resources to request blood samples from Simon Johnson and Jordon Nichols. Harry wasn’t even sure whether the samples would be available. If nothing else, he wanted to access the toxicology reports that were available.
If he couldn’t locate Claire and Rawlings, then his research would be his number one priority. Writing a note, Harry pondered, does the presence of actaea pachypodac create any unusual markers visible during toxicology screenings? Since most agencies don’t routinely test for it, maybe there was something else that could identify its presence. The fact it affected the heart—creating heart attack-like symptoms was too broad.
Harry had a few hours before he needed to get to the airport. While he waited, he reviewed medical histories. First, he looked at the known victims:
Nathaniel Rawls—died in 1989, at the age sixty-four. Interestingly, he died with only two months remaining on his reduced sentence. He had a history of high blood pressure, depression, vitamin deficiency, recreational alcohol usage, and nicotine dependence. He was being medicated for the high blood pressure and depression. According to the records, when he died, he still smoked a half of a pack a day. It was fair to assume his death was heart related until actaea pachypodac was positively identified in his blood.
Agent Sherman Nichols—died in 1997, at the age of seventy-three. He also had a history of high blood pressure. In 1995 he had a heart catherization resulting in the placement of two coronary stents. He was medicated for high blood pressure and high cholesterol—past history nicotine dependence. Again, it would be fair to assume cause of death to include heart disease—again actaea pachypodac was positively identified in his blood.
Her eyes twinkled. “Not tonight—he didn’t.”
“If you’re up for round two, I’m pretty sure we could even the score.”
“I think I’m going to wash the chlorine out of my hair. If it’s not too dominating of a suggestion, as you already know the shower is quite large, you may join me?”
Tony smirked. “Are you suggesting water conservation? I mean, I’m all for conserving resources.”
Later that night with the score one to one, Claire fell sound to sleep, listening to the soothing rhythm of Tony’s heartbeat. Fleetingly, she thought about Tony’s revelation. It was only the beginning, and they both knew there was much more to discuss. Their conversations in the past and in the future always had one rule—honesty. Tony had followed that rule—and in essence, so had Claire. If she’d pretended his statement didn’t bother her, then she wouldn’t have been honest. Her last thought as she drifted away was of Tony’s warning. Claire decided he was right—the truth could be better handled in small manageable pieces. It was like her old way of dealing—compartmentalization. The difference was—instead of hiding the secrets in the compartments—this time, they were bringing them out.
When Claire woke in the morning, her world was still dark. As her eyelids fluttered and her lashes grazed the satin, she realized the darkness was her sleeping mask. Claire removed it from her eyes and reached toward Tony’s empty place in bed. It was already after 9:00 AM, and he was gone, probably off somewhere exploring the island or with Francis. Thankful for the extra sleep the mask brought, Claire thought pensively about the night before, and warm memories filled her thoughts. When she thought about falling asleep, she realized that she hadn’t been wearing the sleep mask. Shaking her head ever so slightly, a smile came to her lips. That’s another point for Tony! Perhaps soon she could even that score.
“I understand, sir,” Agent Baldwin said into his phone.
“Yes, Deputy Director, I’ll be back in San Francisco tomorrow evening.”
“Thank you, goodbye.”
Harry hit the DISCONNECT button and collapsed into the hotel chair. The conversation wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined. Although he’d lost track of both Claire and Rawlings, through the use of digital face recognition, they’d been identified at different times at airports in Papau, New Guinea. Claire was identified at the Baimuru Airport, whereas Rawlings was identified at the Daru Airport.
It’s believed they are staying somewhere in the South Pacific—recognizably, this was a broad generalization. The area in question contained thousands of islands of varying sizes. Many of the island nations in this region rely heavily on tourism and have been known to be very welcoming and accommodating to wealthy residents. As a rule—questions were rarely asked.
Since they were no longer in Europe, Agent Baldwin was ordered to return to the field office in San Francisco. Although he didn’t mention it on the phone call, Harry vowed to share his research with SAC Williams or anyone who’d listen. He needed FBI resources to request blood samples from Simon Johnson and Jordon Nichols. Harry wasn’t even sure whether the samples would be available. If nothing else, he wanted to access the toxicology reports that were available.
If he couldn’t locate Claire and Rawlings, then his research would be his number one priority. Writing a note, Harry pondered, does the presence of actaea pachypodac create any unusual markers visible during toxicology screenings? Since most agencies don’t routinely test for it, maybe there was something else that could identify its presence. The fact it affected the heart—creating heart attack-like symptoms was too broad.
Harry had a few hours before he needed to get to the airport. While he waited, he reviewed medical histories. First, he looked at the known victims:
Nathaniel Rawls—died in 1989, at the age sixty-four. Interestingly, he died with only two months remaining on his reduced sentence. He had a history of high blood pressure, depression, vitamin deficiency, recreational alcohol usage, and nicotine dependence. He was being medicated for the high blood pressure and depression. According to the records, when he died, he still smoked a half of a pack a day. It was fair to assume his death was heart related until actaea pachypodac was positively identified in his blood.
Agent Sherman Nichols—died in 1997, at the age of seventy-three. He also had a history of high blood pressure. In 1995 he had a heart catherization resulting in the placement of two coronary stents. He was medicated for high blood pressure and high cholesterol—past history nicotine dependence. Again, it would be fair to assume cause of death to include heart disease—again actaea pachypodac was positively identified in his blood.
