Behind His Eyes - Convicted: The Missing Years (4 page)

Overwhelmingly, Phil had been relieved by Claire’s condition. When he risked his life to get the damn doctor to the island—if he’d been forced to admit the truth, it wasn’t to save Nichol. Phil was worried out of his mind about Claire. Getting in that boat and braving the rough seas wasn’t selfless. No, it was selfish. He couldn’t stand to stay near Claire with no ability to ease her distress. After all, he’d agreed to protect her and her child, and while on the run, he’d succeeded. The idea that his efforts had been for naught, thwarted by a tragic medical accident outside of his control, was agonizing.

On the day after Nichol’s birth, Claire was in the shade on the lanai when Phil came around the corner. He hadn’t expected her to be up and out of her room. Though tired, she looked amazing. He stood and watched as she held Nichol, seemingly in a world by herself. Contentment resonated all around her. Perhaps it was curiosity: Phil had never seen such a young baby, or just maybe it was a desire to share in a miracle of this magnitude. The reason wasn’t clear, but instead of going on to the kitchen for a bite to eat, Phil walked toward Claire and Nichol and made his presence known. He remembered her happy expression as he sat on the chaise longue near her outstretched legs.

“Thank you for getting the doctor yesterday,” she said with her green eyes open wide.

“I wish you’d stop thanking me for doing my job.”

“Risking your life is not your job.”

“My job is to keep you safe. And now look at you.”

Pink returned to Claire’s cheeks. “Yes, thank you for that. Let me introduce our daughter…” she shifted the bundle in her arms. The tiny face and scrunched eyes were like nothing Phil had ever seen. In a way, she reminded him of a pale raisin. “…Nichol Courtney Rawlings.”

He leaned closer. “You made quite an entrance, little lady. You should really take it easy on your mom. She had a rough night.”

“She’s been as good as gold since she last ate.” Claire’s eyes widened. “Would you like to hold her?”

Phil sat upward. “No.”

Claire giggled. “You answered that pretty fast.”

“Remember, I said that I don’t do diapers.”

Claire reached for some hand sanitizer and pushed it toward Phil. “No one’s asking you to change diapers. Here, rub this on your hands and you can hold her.” Maybe it was his blank stare, perhaps it was the flushing of his face as blood drained, but Claire continued, “You’re supposed to protect me? Well, I need to get up for a minute and take care of something. Nichol is part of me, so I need you to protect her until I return.”

Phil rubbed the alcohol-scented sanitizer on his hands as he asked, “A minute? What if she cries?”

Ignoring his concern, Claire shifted her legs from the longue and gently placed Nichol in his arms. “Just support her head. You won’t break her. Hold her closer… yes, like that.” Once she was satisfied, Claire kissed her daughter’s head and added, “Now, if you’ll excuse me for a minute, just a minute, I’ll be right back. Oh, stay in the shade.”

Claire wasn’t gone long, but in those few minutes—yes, more than one—Phil fell in love. Of all of the things he’d done in his life, never had he held such a precious, innocent being in his hands. He knew Claire was right: his assignment had just doubled. The little girl in his hands had her daddy’s eyes, but he saw Claire, too. No longer did he see a raisin. He saw Claire’s nose and lips…

Phil wondered how some poor kid would feel when Phil drove Nichol and him on their first date, because there was no way he was letting her go with that kid alone. Hell, he’d been a teenage boy once. No way!

When Phil was younger and on assignment with the military, his objective had been defined by others and incredibly simple: life or death. While observing Claire for Rawlings in California, Phil’s world changed. For the first time in his life, his target had been achieved, yet his mission wasn’t complete. Each day he found himself more and more enthralled with his assignment. Truth be told, it probably began in San Antonio when she outsmarted him; however, that was only the beginning. What impressed him beyond belief was her ability to manipulate the master manipulator. Phil saw how others responded to Anthony Rawlings. Claire’s actions truly earned Phil’s respect. Then, Claire was attacked while on his watch, and Phil was relieved of his duties.

Never without a connection, Phil moved on to other jobs: most were short and finite. He followed a husband and verified his involvement with another woman. He tracked down a runaway teenager and alerted her parents to her location. Not ready to give up his newfound obsession with Claire Nichols, he welcomed the directive from Ms. London. In his mind he was helping to create the perfect ruse for Claire to leave Rawlings. Phil firmly believed Ms. London’s story that in a moment of weakness following Chester’s attack, Claire agreed to go to Iowa. It was a decision she immediately regretted, but one that she was unable to reverse without assistance. Rawlings had already proven that he would track her down with relentless fortitude. As the seeds of
Rawls-Nichols
threats were being planted, Phil was planning her ultimate escape. To that end, he willingly mailed the notes, cards, and packages.

It wasn’t until he helped her escape the United States and they spoke again in Geneva that Phil learned he’d only been a pawn in Ms. London’s strategically planned game of chess.

Back at the estate, the unusually cool spring air nipped Phil’s face as he stepped from the warmth of the house onto the lawn. Police cars and fire trucks littered the drive. For all practical purposes, he should disappear. But how could he disappear with Nichol in tow? He’d surely be accused of kidnapping. Smirking, Phil knew that kidnapping charges would be the least of his worries. Feeding, changing, and bathing a three-month-old baby ranked much higher on his list of concerns.

The crowd of people became quiet as a policeman led Rawlings from the house with his hands secured in handcuffs. Just seconds ago, two ambulances left: one contained Claire, the other Ms. London. As Phil watched the scene unfold, Claire’s sister approached.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Who are you? Do you work for
him
?”

Phil’s stance straightened. The way Emily stressed the word
him
left no doubt as to her meaning. “I work for
her
—your sister.” Maybe it was his change in demeanor, but as he spoke Nichol made her presence known.

Emily covered her mouth failing to stop the gasp. “Oh, my God, do you have her child?”

Phil nodded as he lowered the zipper on his coat. “Her blanket was wet. I’m trying to keep her warm.”

“Her?” Emily repeated with wonder.

John Vandersol, Claire’s brother-in-law, joined the conversation and immediately removed his jacket as Emily reached for Nichol. Phil wanted to protest and pull the little girl back to his chest, but he knew this was the right thing to do. Emily was her aunt. She would know better how to care for a baby until Claire was well and released. Besides, Phil wanted to go check on Claire at the hospital and tell her what had transpired with Nichol and Tony.

“There, there…” Emily cooed, as she wrapped her niece in John’s coat. Looking up to Phil, she asked, “Do you know the last time she ate?”

Phil shook his head. “Claire just brought her here minutes before this all got out of hand. She’s, umm…” his cheeks uncustomarily reddened, “…not fed with a bottle.”

“Oh,” Emily responded. “Then I guess we need to get her to Claire at the hospital.” Again to Phil, “Do you know what happened inside?”

“I wasn’t there for all of it. But I have a good idea—”

John interrupted. “It was Anthony, wasn’t it? That’s who Claire was trying to shoot?”

Emily nodded as her husband spoke.

“No.” Phil answered definitively. “No, she wasn’t trying to shoot anyone. She was trying to save Nichol from Ms. London.”

Emily’s head shook. “I don’t believe you. Claire never said anything but good things about Catherine.”

“You’re defending the woman who had you locked in a suite, instead of the man who saved you?” Phil retorted.

John’s brows cocked. “How do you know that? How do you know where we were? Maybe you’re working for Anthony and he was the one—”

Phil glared. “I’ll give my official statement to the police. I assure you, though, that you’re mistaken.” Despite being muffled by John’s coat, Nichol’s cries called out. “But before we argue this point, you need to get Nichol to Claire.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “Nichol? My niece is named Nichol Nichols?”

“Nichol Courtney Rawlings.” Phil stated matter-of-factly.

Emily’s green eyes glared. “What do you mean Rawlings? Did Claire agree to that?”

Phil’s tone deepened. “Mrs. Vandersol, you’ll need to speak with your sister. But I’ll tell you that she and Mr. Rawlings remarried. They were married when Nichol was born. Just let your sister explain it to you.”

John spoke as they made their way toward the cars. “You know he’s a wanted man. Did you know where he was? How can we trust you?”

“You can’t. However, things are different when it comes to Mrs. Rawlings. I wouldn’t do anything to harm her or allow her to be harmed. She really is the one you should be talking to.”

“So,” Emily pushed, “she wanted you with her because she was afraid of him harming her again?”

“Mrs. Vandersol, you are misinterpreting—” Phil’s explanation was cut short as an Iowa City policeman reached for his arm.

“Sir, we need to ask you a few questions. You were in the office at the time of the shooting…”

Phil replied to the officer as John and Emily carried Nichol away. Unexpectedly, John turned around and walked back. “Is there an infant car seat?”

The officer nodded as Phil took John to the car Claire had driven, the one belonging to Courtney Simmons. Phil wished with all his might that he could keep Claire’s friend out of the turmoil that would come from helping Tony and Claire. He might have been able to, had Claire not driven Courtney’s car. His mind spun. As soon as John walked away, the policeman asked, “Whose car is this?”

“It belongs to another of my employers. He allowed me to use it.”

“You? You drove Miss Nichols here?”

“Her name is Rawlings. She and Mr. Rawlings were remarried, and I believe I should have an attorney present before I divulge any more information.”

That became Phil’s answer to each question. He’d already said more to the Vandersols than he should have. He wanted them to know, however, that despite Claire and Tony’s past they were raising Nichol together. Undoubtedly, all of the hiding from the FBI would come back to haunt Rawlings, but Phil hoped Claire’s family would understand. Both Rawlings and Claire would need their support.

Finally, the officer became bored with Phil’s response, or lack of one. “Mr. Roach, what do you do and who do you work for?”

“I’m an independent contractor. I do many things and work for many people.”

“Maybe we should take a drive downtown and check your résumé a little closer.”

“Although that sounds like a fun afternoon, I’m rather busy. Do you believe that you have a reason to charge me with something? If you do, let’s drive. If you don’t, I have more work I need to do. The first thing is checking on Mrs. Rawlings.”

“Mr. Roach, how do you know that she and Anthony Rawlings are remarried?”

“Officer, when I speak with my attorney, we’ll let you know.” Phil hesitated. When the officer didn’t respond, he continued, “I will assume we’re done for now?”

“For now. Do not leave the state—for
business
or personal reasons without contacting the ICPD first.”

Phil shrugged. “Independent contractors are in constant demand all over the world. If you need me, you have my number.” With that, he turned and walked toward Courtney’s car. When he’d retrieved the car seat, Phil saw a purse on the floorboard. He hoped, for appearance sake, that the key was there. As soon as he sat in the car, his phone buzzed with a text from Eric.

“I’M STILL IN THE SECURITY CENTER. I’VE MADE BACKUPS OF EVERYTHING. WHERE DID THEY TAKE EVERYONE?”

Phil responded.
“LONDON AND CLAIRE TO THE HOSPITAL AND RAWLINGS TO THE POLICE STATION. HE SAID FOR YOU TO CALL RAWLINGS INDUSTRIES AND GET HIS LEGAL TEAM THERE ASAP. I WOULD HAVE COMMUNICATED EARLIER BUT THINGS ARE CRAZY.”

“NICHOL?”

“EMILY VANDERSOL. I’M OFF TO CHECK ON CLAIRE. YOU’LL GET RAWLINGS HELP?”

“YES.”
Eric replied.

Phil riffled through the purse and found a key fob. Within seconds he was headed away from the Rawlings estate toward Iowa City.

It hadn’t occurred to him that there were multiple hospitals in Iowa City, and it would have been an issue, except when Phil handed John Vandersol the car seat, he placed an inconspicuous GPS tracker under the soft fabric. Rawlings had put Phil in charge of Nichol’s care, and he had no intentions of losing track of her location. After a few swipes on his phone, the blinking light led him exactly to where he needed to be. Phil didn’t consider contacting Courtney as he parked and locked her car. She was too busy with the news of her husband to be concerned about Claire, Nichol, or her car. Phil tried not to think about Brent. There were many people in Phil’s life who’d come and gone; nevertheless, the lingering sadness at the thought of Brent Simmons’ untimely death was another example of how Phil’s life had radically changed since Brent contacted him a year ago. He was getting soft.