Behind His Eyes - Convicted: The Missing Years (15 page)

That didn’t mean that I wouldn’t be without others: it meant I wouldn’t let it destroy me. He may have believed he owned my body, but as long as I was in control of my mind, Anthony Rawlings, or anyone else, would not have the ability to isolate me. With my new resolve, I showered, dressed, and walked into my clean suite. The invisible people had returned. My cold eggs were gone, and I had a warm meal waiting on the table.

That storm taught me another lesson. If I followed the rules, I could expect favorable consequences. I’d already learned about unfavorable ones, and I had more to learn. Instead of feeling defeated, that day gave me strength. My actions had consequences: whether those were positive or negative was up to me. I was in control.

It never crossed my mind to wonder how Anthony knew I was hiding and lying in wait in that bathroom. I just knew that somehow he did. He knew I wasn’t following my daily routine. My only hope at manipulating the circumstances of my incarceration was to appear compliant. I had another new goal.

My theory was soon to be tested. After thirteen days, I heard a knock on my door. The young man who brought my meals always knocked once before entering, but this knock was different. No one entered. I waited. It happened again. When I called out, I was miraculously answered.

“Miss Claire, may I enter?”

Her question was quite comical. I couldn’t have bid her entrance if I’d wanted nor could I deny it. I was on the wrong side of the locked door. Nonetheless, I said, “Yes, Kate (name changed to protect the innocent), please come in.”

The familiar beep preceded the opening of my door. I stood motionless as her gray eyes filled with compassion, silently confirming that I was no longer alone. “Miss Claire, I have a message for you.” Kate’s accent was unique and formal and her words were music to my heart. I didn’t care what they said, only that they were spoken to me. I longed to hug or touch her in some way, craving contact, but that would have been too much—too much for my attention-starved psyche. Unable to verbally respond, I nodded, savoring the interaction and trying to make it last.

“Mr. Rawlings will be coming to see you tonight…”

I listened with a mixture of fear and anticipation. The storm had broken my defenses and revealed my greatest vulnerability: I would do anything to avoid being alone, even if it meant facing him.

The bile rose in John’s throat as he closed the book and laid it on the bedside stand. Little bits were all he could tolerate—it was too much. As he tried to settle for sleep, a line in Meredith’s book came back to him:
as long as I was in control of my mind, Anthony Rawlings, or anyone else, would not have the ability to isolate me.

He turned to Emily. “I didn’t think it was possible to hate him more than I did, but I do.”

With her head on the pillow, she opened her tired eyes. “I hate that book. I told you not to read it.”

“I couldn’t when she was missing, but now—”

Emily sat up and kissed her husband. “Now, I think, may even be worse. She’s still missing.”

John shook his head. “I just read something about her thinking she was in control—how she would never allow anyone to isolate her. I get it.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was in prison…”

Emily nodded.

“The loneliness was the most difficult part for me. I remember reliving so many conversations. It’s like you have this continual movie playing in your head. Sometimes I’d remember something you said that was funny, and I’d hear myself laugh. It felt wrong, yet right. It helped me.”

“John, I’m so sorry…”

“No, that isn’t my point. My point is that in this book she talks about
remembering
. Em, why isn’t she remembering now? How can we, or the doctors help her remember? I mean, she has a daughter!”

“Shh,” Emily chided. “Let’s not wake that daughter up.”

John exhaled. “Do you ever think about what we were doing while she was going through that shit—before?”

Emily nodded and leaned against John’s chest. “I do. I especially did while reading that damn book. I wish I could say I think Meredith sensationalized it, but it’s a lot like what Claire told me. There are more details in the book…”

“Yeah, I could do without those.”

“Me too, but as long as the rest of the world knows them, I felt like I should too. John?” Her green eyes looked up.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I can go back to California.”

He closed his eyes and nodded.

Emily continued, “I can’t leave her here in that state facility alone. I’m afraid if I go before his trial, somehow he’ll get out of it, and I need to keep her safe, keep him away from her and Nichol.”

“I understand, but I have an obligation to SiJo and Amber.”

“I know you feel indebted to them. Can we just take it a day or a week at a time?”

John nodded. “Did I tell you that they called? I spoke with Amber and Harry. They’re both concerned. Amber told me to take as much time as I need.”

Emily yawned. “She’s been great. What did Harry say?”

“He asked if he could visit.”

Her attention was once again focused on her husband. “He wants to visit? Us or Claire?”

John shrugged. “Both, I think.”

A smile fluttered across Emily’s lips. “Well, all right.”

John’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you have that smirk?”

“Because I like the idea of keeping that bastard away and allowing Harry to visit. If I could, I’d take pictures!”

John hugged his wife’s shoulders and pulled her down to his pillow. “I’m glad we’re on the same team. You definitely have a wicked side.”

“Don’t you think he deserves it?”

It was John’s turn to yawn. “After what I just read, he deserves more.”

“It was so nice of you to visit,” Emily said to Harry as she rocked Nichol.

“Yes, I’m sorry we’re hidden away in this hotel suite,” John said, “but I’m sure you understand. We’re doing our best to keep Nichol out of the spotlight.”

“I get it,” Harry replied.

John sat back against the soft chair and watched as Emily lulled their niece to sleep. Although Harry wasn’t making it uncomfortable, it seemed odd to have him here with Claire’s baby. After all, there was a time when they’d all assumed he was the father. Looking at the tufts of dark hair making their way out of the soft blanket and back to the blue-eyed man with wavy blonde hair, there was no question: Harry was not Nichol’s father. Her resemblance to Anthony Rawlings was as unnerving as it was undeniable. The first time John looked into his niece’s big brown eyes, he shivered at the recognition. That was only the first time. From that point on, her eyes were
hers
and hers alone. The long lashes and round cheeks that turned crimson at the first sign of fussing were all Nichol—Claire’s daughter and their niece. Never could John bring himself to blame her for her father’s sins.

“Amber couldn’t get away,” Harry said. “But she sends her love and support. She said to let you know that she understands allegiance to family. Take as long as you need John. Your job is waiting for you in California.”

John nodded. “I spoke with her the other day. I can’t thank her enough for all that she’s done for us.”

“Yes, after Claire left…” Emily began and stopped. “Oh, I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sleep-deprived that I’m talking without thinking. I’m sure you don’t want to talk about that.”

“It’s all right. There’s nothing I haven’t already heard or thought about. It was a little uncomfortable for a while, but John wasn’t hired because he was Claire’s brother-in-law. He was hired at SiJo because of his ability.”

“But you left SiJo right after that. I hope I wasn’t the cause. We miss you,” John said.

“That wasn’t it at all. I missed police work. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to go back with the California Bureau of Investigation.”

“It’s nice that you can still consult with SiJo. You obviously care a lot about your sister’s company,” John replied.

The three of them chatted as Nichol slept contently in her aunt’s arms. It wasn’t until the subject of Claire’s current condition came up that the tension seemed to seep in from the corners of the room. It was one of the first times they’d discussed Claire outside of their legal team.

“After what I’ve heard, I’m a little nervous to see her. My visit won’t upset her, will it?” Harry asked.

Emily shook her head. “I doubt it. She probably won’t even realize you’re there.” Her voice turned stern. “Harry, we can trust you, can’t we?”

“Of course you can.”

“Very few people have been allowed to see my sister. It’s been solely for her protection. She’s not doing well. I know she wouldn’t want the media learning the truth about her state of mind.”

Harry sat straight. “I would never talk to the media.”

John smiled. “We know that. It’s just that we need to be sure. Please be careful about what you tell others too.”

“Liz?” Harry asked.

Emily nodded. “She’s nice enough around us—really she is. And I’m thrilled to see you happy, but I get the feeling she didn’t like or maybe even still doesn’t like Claire. I don’t blame her either. Amber told me that you dated Liz and broke up with her right before Claire moved to Palo Alto. But my point is that I would hate for you to say something to her that she might repeat to someone else. You know how it goes.”

“I won’t. She doesn’t know I’m here.”

John glanced at Emily’s wide eyes and back to Harry. “Why?”

“You’re right. She isn’t a fan of Claire’s and I was worried. I hoped that you’d let me see her and tell me more about what happened, but Liz wouldn’t understand my concern. She’d think I was somehow trying to rekindle…” Harry’s voice faded.

“Oh, how I wish you were,” Emily mused. “But Claire isn’t ready for anything like that. You’ll see when you visit.”

“So, when you return, please don’t say anything about my visit,” Harry said.

“No worries. I won’t,” John said. “And Emily doesn’t know when she’ll be back.”

Emily smiled. “I can’t leave Claire in the place where she is. I go there every day and so does John. In her condition, I worry about how she’d be treated if we weren’t on them, twenty-four-seven. And then there’s Nichol…”

Harry’s blue eyes dulled. “A little girl…” His words trailed away not finishing his sentence.

“Would you like to hold her?” Emily asked as she stood.

“I’m not good with babies,” Harry admitted. “I’d better not. I have the feeling her parents wouldn’t approve.”

Walking toward him, Emily lowered Nichol toward Harry’s lap. “They’re not here. We are and we approve. You’re a good friend and it’s sweet of you to travel all this way after what Claire did to you.”

Hesitantly, Harry cradled his arms and accepted a sleeping Nichol. After a long gaze into the blankets, he looked up with his toothy grin. “She has her mommy’s nose and lips.”

“She does,” Emily agreed, gleefully.

“Her eyes?” Harry asked.

John’s lips pressed together before he replied, “Are dark brown.”

Acceptingly, Harry nodded. “I assumed. I just wondered.”

Walking from the room, Emily’s voice was barely audible as she said, “I wish they were blue.”

John tried to avoid Harry’s gaze as Harry shrugged with a sad smile.

Since Claire was technically under arrest and not fit to be in a jail cell, the court moved her to a state-funded institution for further tests and treatment. The state institution required an array of clearances prior to visiting a patient. John and Emily had already filed the necessary authorization for Harrison Baldwin. All that was needed on his part was to show his identification and sign the visitor’s log.

Each step down the corridor filled John with dread. As much as he hated the old hospital room where Claire had been, he hated this new place more. There were noises and murmurings coming from the closed doors along the hall. Because Claire still had her pending charges, her room was beyond more locked doors. However, her room was empty. Hurriedly, John searched, finding her in a common area. She was sitting in a wheelchair, still dressed in her hospital gown with her hair a tangled mess.

John’s face burned as anger built behind his deceptively calm facade. He turned to the attendant. “Why the hell is she out here?”