Authors: Aleatha Romig
A line of semi-trucks passed, blowing
Claire’s hair and exposing her determined expression. She made her
way toward Phil’s SUV. Over the rush of traffic she heard the click
of the unlocking doors. Claire opened the passenger door and
climbed into the seat beside her old bodyguard.
She was the first to speak, “I thought you
worked for Tony.”
“
I did. How do you think
Ms. London found my name?”
Claire raised her eyebrows.
“
He hasn’t needed me since
you moved to Iowa.”
“
How do I know you won’t
tell him where I am?”
“
Because, I work for
money. According to Ms. London, once I get you to Geneva, you will
pay me more to keep quiet. Secrets are my specialty.”
“
And you can do this?”
Claire asked as she felt the SUV ease back onto I 80.
“
Oh, Ms. Nichols, my
talents were wasted as your babysitter. I’m very
capable.”
Claire looked at the man to her left. “Don’t
you think you should call me Claire?”
He smiled, “Actually, no. You have new
documents. Claire Nichols is gone.”
He handed her a stack of passports. Each
folder contained the international document and a corresponding
state issued driver’s license, each from different states. The
documents and licenses held digitally enhanced pictures. They were
all her, but not; in some she was blonde, some red headed, and
others her hair was darker than normal – almost black. Upon further
scrutinization she read her eye color also varied. “I understand
how my hair can change, but how can my eye’s change?”
Phil pointed to the back seat. Claire picked
up a small cosmetic case. Inside were multiple pairs of colored
contact lenses. He took the next exit and turned around, heading
the SUV east toward the rising sun. Claire reached into her purse
for her sunglasses.
“
We’ll need to get rid of
your purse and the clothes you’re wearing.” He noticed the large
stone on her left hand. “And that -- isn’t that the same ring you
sold?”
She fought the tears that suddenly filled
her eyes and nodded.
“
Can
you
do this?” Phil asked.
She swallowed. “I don’t have a choice. Where
are we going? Are you taking me back to Iowa City?” There was a
hint of optimism in her voice.
“
Cincinnati. You’re flying
from Cincinnati to Florence later this afternoon.” He turned toward
her. And although her gaze was out the side window, Phil could see
her trembling shoulders. “We have to stop on the way so you can
change your clothes and your hair.” He waited until the silence
grew uncomfortable, “Unless you want to go back to Iowa
City?”
Claire felt the movement of her baby inside
of her. Her voice quivered, “No. This is something I need to do.”
She reclined the seat and refused to turn toward Phil. “I think I’d
like to rest while we drive to this hotel.” She knew he’d watched
her for months. She remembered the note he sent the night Tony came
to her hotel in San Diego. She couldn’t let him see the tears which
refused to stay behind the Cartier sunglasses. He’d know
immediately -- Iowa City was her destination of choice.
*****
There were so many things Sophia needed to
do at her studio. An exhibit throws everything off kilter. Cassie,
the assistant she hired to keep the Cape studio open while she was
in California, was supposed to meet her at nine. Waking and
sleeping at appropriate hours had never been Sophia’s gift. She was
better of late, but the exhibit wore her out. When she rolled over
and saw the bright Cape Cod sun streaming through her windows, she
jumped from bed knowing she’d overslept.
It was a quarter after
nine before she made her way out the door. Luckily, it wasn’t a
long walk to the studio. Derek kept talking about her buying a
bigger studio, but honestly, she was happy with the one her parents
helped her start. As she closed her front door and breathed in the
wonderful salt air, her purse began to vibrate. Immediately, she
assumed it was Cassie wondering if she would make their meeting.
Glancing at the screen of her phone, Sophia saw an unknown number
with the Princeton, New Jersey, prefix. She hit:
Answer.
“
Mrs. Sophia
Burke?”
“
Yes, this is she.” The
bright sunshine faded.
“
Ms. Burke, I’m sorry to
be making this call, but a blue Camry was discovered this morning.
We don’t know the cause of the accident, but we believe both of
your parents were discovered within the car. It may have been due
to wet leaves. We had a hard rain here last night. Or with the year
of your parent’s car, it could be an acceleration issue. Their car
hit a tree. The coroner believes they both died instantly. We need
you to travel to New Jersey to identify the bodies.”
Sophia collapsed onto the steps of her
cottage as the tears grew and sobs formed in her chest. Her mind
tried to process. She managed to speak, “Okay, I can do that.”
“
Visible identification
will be difficult. We were hoping for familiar DNA.”
“I’m sorry. That won’t work. I’m adopted.”
“
Are there any other
siblings?”
“
No, I’m an only
child.”
“
Perhaps you will be able
to identify their belongings.”
“
I will be there as soon
as I can.” Her mind tried to process, “Can you tell me who was
driving?”
“
It was your father, Mrs.
Burke. May I ask why you’re asking?”
“
Curiosity, Officer,
perhaps shock.”
“
I understand. Please ask
for me, Officer McPherson, when you arrive.”
“
I will. Thank you.”
Sophia disconnected the call and called Derek’s international
phone.
Although she knew it would
be best to claim
an acceleration
problem
or possibly
wet leaves
as the officer suggested,
Sophia knew that wasn’t the cause. Officer McPherson said Pop was
driving. Why hadn’t her mom listened? Sophia pleaded with her to
take away Pop’s keys. It wasn’t his fault. Not really, yet Sophia
knew in her heart, it was. What would she do without
them?
*****
The mid-morning sun moved higher as Tony’s
private plane touched down in Iowa. After the call from Clay he cut
his European trip short and immediately headed home. If someone
tried to push Claire off the road, he needed to be there. Tony
tried Claire’s phone again. No answer. He hadn’t been able to reach
her since the near accident, even her voicemail wouldn’t
activate.
Getting into the car, he tried Catherine’s
phone. When the line connected, Tony couldn’t comprehend
Catherine’s words, “What do you mean she left yesterday and hasn’t
come back? How could she leave without Clay?”
“
She said she was tired of
the constant surveillance and needed a break.”
“
When? Why haven’t you
called me or the police?”
Catherine tried to justify her reasoning,
“Yesterday evening... I assumed she’d be back. It wasn’t until this
morning we realized she never returned. You were in the air; I
couldn’t reach you. I haven’t called the police; what was I
supposed to say? A twenty-nine year old woman drove away on her own
and now I can’t reach her? Once Clay learned she’d disappeared, he
followed the GPS. Your car was just located outside Des Moines...
Anton, I’m so sorry. I truly thought she would return after she got
her break. You know how the hormones are making her emotional. I’m
very worried.”
Eric couldn’t drive the car fast enough for
Tony. “Eric! Hit the damn gas! I need to be home!” His mind
scrambled as he spoke to Catherine through the phone, “Des Moines?
Jane Allyson is there. I’ll contact her.”
“
Claire left her phone and
iPad here. I can tell you, she’s missed many calls from people,
especially her sister.”
“
Shit. Someone will need
to contact Emily.” The jet lag was nothing compared to the chaos in
his mind. “What if Chester’s accomplice has her? We need to get the
police involved. Have I received any ransom requests?”
“
No, nothing
here.”
“
So, a car tries to run
Clay off the road and later that same day Claire decides to leave.
Doesn’t anyone else think this is suspicious?” His question was
rhetorical; he’d disconnected their call.
A few minutes later, the
front door of the estate burst open. Tony entered barking orders
into his phone and around the room. He wanted everyone in his
office
yesterday
.
He wanted the security detail, Tom and Brent, the local police
chief, and he even contacted the FBI. His call to Jane Allyson went
to her secretary. Ms. Allyson was in court and won’t be available
for another few hours; however, the secretary knew nothing about
Ms. Nichols.
Tony even called Emily and Harry.
Surprisingly, the call with Harry went better than the one with
Emily. He ended up hanging up on her. Harry promised to call with
any news and assured Tony they’d not seen or heard from Claire but
would contact him if they did.
Tony contacted his office; there’d been no
ransom requests or other messages. Patricia would check the
satellite offices and get back to him immediately.
Although she’d only been
missing a short time, with Tony’s influence, APB’s went out to all
airports and every flight’s manifest and passenger list was
scrutinized for
Claire
Nichols
. Her name didn’t appear as anyone
who’d flown in the past 48 hours or who had
reservations.
While Tony assembled the greater part of his
posse, Chief Newburg of the Iowa City Police Department, excused
himself to take a call. When he returned he reluctantly approached
Tony, “Mr. Rawlings, I need to speak to you privately.”
Tony looked around the room. His legal
consultants were present as well as Catherine and his security
detail. “Does this have to do with Ms. Nichols?”
“
Yes, sir, it
does.”
“
Then I don’t see any
reason you can’t speak in front of these people. We all want to
find her.”
“
I think this would be
better alone.”
Tony’s heart sank. He looked around.
“Everyone but Catherine and Brent step out of my office for a
minute.”
Chief Newburg waited until the grand doors
closed, leaving the four of them alone. “Mr. Rawlings, a Mr. and
Mrs. John Vandersol have contacted the Palo Alto, California,
Police Department. Their department has formally contacted our
department. You are being accused of culpability in the
disappearance of Ms. Claire Nichols. If she is not found, they want
you charged with her disappearance and possible death, as well as
the same for her child.”
Tony collapsed into his
leather chair. “Chief, that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever
heard.
I
called
you here.”
“
If they’d contacted our
office personally, I could agree with you and talk them down.
Unfortunately, since they’ve involved another agency, we have to
follow through. Mr. Rawlings, may we search your house?”
“
Yes. Of course, do
anything you need to do to find her. But don’t waste too much time
here. Find where she went. Find out if she’s with some maniac. You
know she was attacked in California? We have brought threatening
mailings to you. She could be with some crazy person right now.”
His dark eyes fumed as he fought the desire to argue his
innocence.
“
I understand, Mr.
Rawlings. We will get to the bottom of this.”
Chief Newburg called for additional officers
and began taking statements from Anthony Rawlings and his household
employees. The process lasted deep into the night. Most of the
staff were blissfully ignorant. Chief Newburg wondered how so many
people could reside under the same roof and have no idea what was
happening with one another.
By the time they finished,
Tony figured Claire had possibly been in the hands of some zealot
for an additional five hours. It took all of Brent’s persuasive
power to keep Tony from calling Emily and John and telling them
exactly what he thought of their charges. After all, Claire’s baby
was his baby. He’d never cause her or it harm. He reasoned:
All right, maybe I did. Now, I
wouldn’t.
During the questioning, another team of
investigators descended upon the house. They went from room to room
and searched everything. One investigator, searching their private
suite found Claire’s box of research. He deemed the information
worthy to be designated as evidence and took it back to the station
for processing. They also asked about the estates security system.
Was there video footage? Could they access saved files?
The press was already hot on the hunt.
Someone leaked to the media that the ICPD was investigating Anthony
Rawlings and his estate in conjunction with the reported
disappearance of his ex-wife and current live-in relationship,
Claire (Rawlings) Nichols.
As soon as everyone left, Tony returned
numerous calls from his publicist who was working feverishly to
restrain the outgoing information. Shelly was doing her best, but
stalling or limiting was all she could promise. It was coming too
fast and too furious; curtailing it was impossible.
Any emotion, if it is
sincere, is involuntary.
- Mark
Twain