Convicted (27 page)

Besides impulsivity, Claire proved exceptionally obedient. The note in the box told her to read the entire contents—of course—she read it all. Catherine admitted the manipulation of Claire was amusing. After she was gone and in prison, Catherine even missed it. Claire and Anton’s obliviousness throughout the whole game was the best part. This was especially true in the beginning, when he thought Claire knew him well enough to behave accordingly, and Claire feared his reaction if she misbehaved. Neither one realized Catherine was the one setting the rules—it was perfect.

If Governor Bosley hadn’t pardoned Claire, Catherine believed Claire would’ve used that information in the box to expose Anton’s secrets. The knowledge combined with the isolation would’ve energized Claire’s retaliation.
After all, who wouldn’t want vengeance after what Claire experienced?

That was as far into the past that Catherine would allow her mind to wonder, because it was during that time that her plan took an unexpected turn. Anton was upset; his anger was peaked. Claire
should
have been angry. They
should
have worked to bring each other down. That wasn’t what happened. Not only were they not adversaries, their behavior with one another changed to a more even playing field.

Catherine encouraged Claire’s return to the estate for one reason—to intercede—to put things back on track; however, mild, meek Claire didn’t return. Oh, she wasn’t suddenly loud and boisterous. She also wasn’t obedient and accommodating. What she was—made Catherine’s blood boil.
Claire was a Nichols who had the audacity to think she was the lady of the house! She was a Nichols who was pregnant—with a Rawls baby!

In 1985, that had been Catherine. She had been the one expecting a Rawls baby and waiting patiently to become the lady of the house. After all, Sharron was gone. Well, she wasn’t dead; nevertheless, she was
gone
. Watching that woman die slowly had been excruciating. Catherine vowed to, never again, allow that to happen to anyone she loved.

Then, that same year, it was all taken away from her. Not all—she still had Nathaniel. He taught her how the world worked and showed her that she was loved. Those were gifts she’d never had from her own family. When Nathaniel presented her with the deed to her father’s car dealership, it was the greatest gift—the most anyone had ever done for her. He showed her that his love was limitless; he’d do anything to make her happy. Catherine felt the same way. There were no lengths she wouldn’t go to for Nathaniel—even today. Catherine would never allow a
Nichols
to live in Nathaniel’s home and produce a child. It didn’t matter that Nathaniel’s home was in New Jersey. The estate where she sat was a worthy facsimile. Catherine was truthful when she encouraged Anton’s construction of the estate and told him how proud Nathaniel would be—he wouldn’t have been disappointed.

As the tips of Catherine’s fingers ran across the top of the private files in the desk drawer, she contemplated the one thing she hadn’t done for Nathaniel. Now that she truly was
where
he wanted her to be, Catherine Marie owed it to him to do
what
he wanted. He’d wanted her to contact her daughter. He wanted Marie to raise the girl—but that ship had already sailed.

She eyed the scribed names. There were so many.
How could she figure out which one was her daughter?
Catherine saw her own name. Maybe there was a clue in her file. When she opened it, she feared her heart would stop pumping. The writing wasn’t Anton’s. Catherine knew his writing well enough to duplicate it, with ease. This writing was Nathaniel’s.

Scribbled in the margin of a contract was the name
Sophia Rossi
. Catherine went through the drawer again. The only Sophia was Sophia
Burke
. Suddenly, she no longer remembered her husband’s love—she remembered his vendetta. Burke?
Burke?
There was no way
her
daughter could be connected to
Jonathon Burke
.

Catherine removed the
Sophia Burke
file and opened the folder. Above the typed name,
Sophia Rossi
, was the scribbled name
Sophia Rossi Burke
...Catherine searched the pages. There was a plethora of outdated information; nonetheless, written above the text on the second page was a telephone number. Catherine couldn’t resist; she used the blocked house phone.

Derek answered his wife’s cell phone. The past few weeks had been too much, and Sophia wasn’t up for solicitors or blocked numbers. “Hello?”

Initially, there was silence. Derek was about to hang up when he heard a voice. “I’m sorry; I’m looking for the beautiful baby girl I was forced to give away thirty-three years ago.”

Derek listened. He remembered that after Sophia’s parents’ funeral, she said she didn’t want to know her birth parents, yet this moment in time may be their only chance to learn the truth. “I’m sorry; my wife is indisposed right now. She’s had a difficult few weeks.”

“Yes, that’s the reason I’m calling. I never wanted to interfere with her and her adoptive parents, but now—”

Derek interjected, “Tell me the date you gave birth.”

Sophia’s eyes widened as she heard her husband’s question.

“July 19, 1980.”

Derek turned to Sophia. Her beautiful gray eyes, which had finally stopped crying over her parents, were now moist once again.

“What did she say?” Sophia whispered.

With his hand over the phone, Derek nodded. “She said your birth date. I think it might be your mother.”

“My mother died in a car accident.” Sophia straightened her neck and took the phone. “Please, don’t call again. My parents are dead. I don’t know you.”

The woman on the other end of the line spoke, “I’m sorry, I won’t call you again.”

Derek watched his wife’s countenance melt. He knew it was the first time Sophia had heard her birth mother’s voice, and he couldn’t imagine the questions that were rapidly firing through her beautiful head.
Why did she give her up? Has she ever regretted her decision? What kind of person was she? What did she look like? Did they look alike?

Sophia swallowed the tears threatening her speech and said, “Wait—if you could give me your number, I’ll think about it. Then—when I’m ready—
I
can call
you
.”

The woman exhaled and replied, “Yes, of course.”

Sophia’s strength was spent. It broke Derek’s heart to see her fighting this new upheaval of emotion. Wrapping her in his arms, he took the phone from her hand. His voice was neither welcoming nor rejecting, “You may give me the number. When my wife is ready—
if
she’s ready—
she
will call you. Please, do
not
call her phone again.”

The woman hesitated only a second and then rattled off ten numbers. Derek repeated the numbers. Not offering a closing salutation, he disconnected the line. His concern wasn’t the woman on the phone; it was the distraught woman in his arms.

Catherine grinned. She’d done what Nathaniel had wanted her to do—she’d contacted her daughter. From the information in the file, Catherine could tell that Anton had been watching Sophia. She wondered what, if anything, he’d done for her. Catherine needed more information.

Anton had a list of private detectives and others who’d proven themselves helpful in the past. Briefly, Catherine thought of Roach, Phillip Roach. He’d done an excellent job with Catherine’s directives. Of course, it helped that he’d been unhappy about losing his job with Anton. Catherine wasn’t sure she’d be able to reach him. If she did,
did Catherine want to know Claire’s location?

Oh, she had so many things to consider. Truthfully, Claire could wait—she wasn’t going anywhere. Right now, Catherine wanted to know more about
Sophia.
It was a pretty name—not one she would have chosen, but it was pretty. There were no pictures in the file, well other than a few of a very young girl. Catherine wondered what her daughter looked like.
Did she look like her?
or
perhaps she looked like
... Truthfully, that was why she didn’t want to do this in the first place.

Catherine Marie London was
no longer
that scared, lonely, and abused teenager at the mercy of her drugged out uncle. No—she was a strong fighter and a go-getter! She’d loved Nathaniel Rawls and outlasted Anton Rawls—both were impressive accomplishments.

Thanks to both, Catherine now had time and resources. She also had a plethora of questions.
What did her daughter do for a living? Did she go to college? Were her adoptive parents good to her? Catherine told herself they were. If not, Nathaniel or Anton would’ve known, but what about Sophia’s husband? Could it be possible? Could Sophia really be married to someone associated with Jonathon Burke? And who did he think he was, talking to her the way he did, demanding her telephone number? Catherine sure as hell wasn’t intimidated. If a Rawls didn’t intimidate her—a Burke never could.

She, once again, searched the drawer of private files. As she fingered the tabs, Catherine remembered the saying,
no sense reinventing the wheel
. Knowing Anton better than anyone, Catherine was quite sure of his attention to meticulous detail. Surely he’d already researched Sophia’s husband. It was true, she could glean more information, but why not start with whatever Anton had already accumulated. When she passed the B’s without a Burke, her hopes began to fade. Then she saw the D’s—
Derek Burke
. Removing the folder, she laid it across the desk and began to read. The first page was a series of emails:

To: Anthony Rawlings

From: Cameron Andrews

Re: Ms. Rossi

Date: January 12, 2011

As I wrote in my previous email, Ms. Rossi took an unscheduled trip to Europe. I have since learned the reason for the trip was to wed. I’ll remind you, I first mentioned Derek Burke in a December 18, 2010 email. They met at a Christmas party.

I apologize for not relaying the information of their nuptials sooner. I did not expect that to be the reason for her trip; however, a red flag came up when I received notice of her application for marriage license.

Please inform me how to proceed.

CA

To: Cameron Andrews

From: Anthony Rawlings

Re: Ms. Rossi—Burke???

Date: January 14, 2011

It’s nearly midnight here, and I just saw your message. I want information and I want it yesterday! How could this have happened so quickly?

Information, pictures, details... now!

AR

To: Anthony Rawlings

From: Cameron Andrews

Re: Ms. Burke

Date: January 26, 2011

Although Ms. Burke is now living in Boston in her husband’s apartment, I’ve just confirmed that they’ve made an offer on a small cottage in Provincetown, Mass. I’ll notify you immediately if their offer is accepted.

Derek Burke’s employment record is straight forward. I’ve attached his dossier. I’ll continue to monitor. Please inform me if you would like my activities to change in any way.

CA

To: Cameron Andrews

From: Anthony Rawlings

Re: Ms. Rossi-Burke

Date: January 27, 2011

Let me know the value of the cottage and their offer.

It was reassuring to Catherine—she
did
know Anton, probably better than he knew himself. She could only imagine how upset he was to have Sophia elope without his knowledge! Catherine felt a sudden affection for her estranged daughter—if it wasn’t for the name of the man she chose to marry!