Convicted (28 page)

Leafing through the pages, Catherine found Derek’s lineage:

Father: William Burke—Grandfather: Randall Burke—Great-grandfather: Truman Burke.

It was the notation under Truman’s name, the one scribbled in Anton’s writing that caught Catherine’s attention:
two sons: Randall and Jonathon
.
There was the connection!

Catherine’s daughter was married to the great-nephew of Jonathon Burke!

Catherine continued to read:

Derek Burke hired in 2013—Shedis-tics Corporation, Palo Alto, California (Rawlings subsidiary).

When there was nothing else for her to learn, she turned on Anton’s computer and accessed his private list of contacts. This list was how she’d found Phillip Roach, in the first place. When she last spoke to Anton, he quipped something about Catherine knowing everything
that went on in the house
. Smiling at her access to his private information, Catherine doubted Anton had any idea how truly right he’d been.

Although she may know everything within these walls—Catherine wanted to know more. One of the names on this list would be just the person to help her accomplish that goal.

Sophia wiped her eyes. “Thank you. You’d think I’d be all cried out.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being emotional about this. I mean, you were just saying a few weeks ago that you didn’t want to get to know any parents other than the great people who raised you, and if you still feel that way, then you have my support. If you’ve changed your mind, then I’ll support that too.”

Sophia shrugged. “I don’t know what I want.”

Derek’s grinned. “Then don’t decide right now—there’s no rush.”

Leaning into her husband’s embrace, Sophia crooned, “Whatever I did to deserve you is beyond me. Thank you—for everything.”

With her head under his chin, Derek sighed. His only desire was for Sophia to be happy. Lingering in the pit of his stomach was the feeling of trepidation. He worried that by engaging in that conversation, he’d set her up for more disappointment. The last thing he desired for his wife was heartache. She’d already had too much.

The Rossi’s were wonderful, loving parents, and there was a part of Derek that wished he’d hung up on Sophia’s birth mother before the conversation even started.

Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princes who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.

—Rainer Maria Rilke

During dinner, Francis offered Tony and Phil clothes. It seemed that over the years, a large accumulation of items had been left and stored away on the island; these clothes would suffice until ones more to their liking could be ordered and sent into town. Mumbling under her breath, Claire mentioned, “I was planning on ordering some, but a call changed my mind.”

The only person who heard her comment was the man at her side. Truthfully, he was the only one she wanted to hear. With a table of onlookers, Tony didn’t verbally respond; however, he did reach over and squeeze her hand.

After dinner, Francis and Madeline left Tony, Claire, and Phil alone, and Tony explained his current status. He told Claire about the questioning and the FBI’s ultimatum. He explained how he’d been instructed to stay in contact with the bureau otherwise he’d be considered a fugitive—based on charges of domestic battery.

Claire shook her head vehemently. “No! That’s
not
what I said to Evergreen. I told him I was running, but
not
from you! I never said anything about pressing charges.”

“I know.” Tony didn’t sound upset. This wasn’t new territory to any of them; they all knew Claire and Tony’s history. “Roach told me what you said to Evergreen. It’s some ploy of theirs—Brent said it was to get more information.”

“Brent?” Claire asked. “Do Brent and Courtney know the truth? Do they know we’re all right?”

Tony shook his head. “No. It’s safer for them that way.”

Claire lowered her eyes and looked at her lap. She understood; however, it didn’t lessen the pain of knowing she’d lied to her closest friends—again.

Tony described how Eric helped him leave the United States, and how he traveled around Europe. When he talked about specific stops along his journey, they were shocked to learn how close their paths had been. Tony also asked questions.
How did Claire find the island? Where exactly were they? Had Claire been in contact with anyone since arriving?

Claire deferred some of his questions to Phil, while she responded to others. “I haven’t been in contact with anyone. I do have a non-traceable phone Phil left here, and I have Har...a number for an FBI contact.”

Tony sat straighter and looked at Phil. Speaking to no one in particular, Phil asked, “Is that my cue to leave this discussion?”

Claire answered first, “No, you know the answers to more of his questions than I do, but before you two discuss the coordinates of our location, I should tell you, Tony, I saw Harry in Italy.”

“So did I”—his voice lowered a pitch—“He told me he’d been with you. Actually, he showed me a picture.”

“A picture!?”—Claire stood—“What sort of picture did he show you? And what are you, or was he, implying—
with
him? I saw him—I
wasn’t
with him!”

Tony reached out and took her hand. The hardness she’d heard seconds before disappeared as his thumb rubbed the top of her hand. “It wasn’t anything—just confirmation he’d seen you.”

“Well, did he tell you that he’s a FBI agent? I didn’t get the impression it was a recent change in profession.”

Tony nodded. “He did. Apparently, he’s supposed to be my contact.” Grinning again, he added, “I’m not supposed to leave Switzerland without contacting him first.”

Phil interjected, “Damn”—also with a smile—“I knew we forgot to do something.”

“Do you think he’ll trace you here?” Claire couldn’t hide the panic from her voice.

Phil answered, “As many twists and turns and name changes as we’ve had? I’ll be lucky if I can explain where we are.”

Claire exhaled. “Good, I’m so glad you’re here—both of you, but the last thing I want are unexpected visitors.”

It was Madeline who interrupted their conversation, “Excuse me, Messieurs, Francis has clothes for each of you. They are now in your suites.” After they both thanked her, she continued, “Madame el, if there’s nothing else, we’ll also retire.”

“That’s fine, Madeline, thank you.”

A few moments later, Tony and Phil went into the house to clean up. They’d both been wearing their current clothes for over twenty-four hours and couldn’t wait to change.

Sitting alone on the lanai, Claire closed her eyes and listened to the sea. The surge of emotions over the last few hours combined with raging hormones intensified the familiar pounding in her temples. She knew her headaches bothered Tony, and she didn’t want anything to upset tonight’s reunion. There was a part of her that felt like a newlywed about to join her husband for the first time. It was a silly thought—one that couldn’t be further from the truth; nevertheless, the butterflies in her stomach and the tightened anticipation added to her stretched nerves.

She didn’t hear Madeline’s footsteps or even know she was still present until she spoke, “Madame el, are you all right?”

Claire jumped. “Oh! You scared me. I thought you were gone.”

“We were, but I came to check on you. Is it your head again? Does it bother you?”

Claire reached out and touched Madeline’s hand. “Please don’t mention my headaches around Mr. Rawlings.”

“I’m sure he knows. He looks at you with so much adoration, like he knows your thoughts. I knew right away that he was who you’ve been waiting for.”

Claire grinned. “I never said I was waiting for anyone.”

“No, Madame el, you didn’t.” Madeline noticed the diamond on Claire’s hand. “Are you to be wed?”

Twisting the diamond, Claire sighed. Her smile tried to disguise the sadness in her eyes. “Oh, it’s a very long story.”

“You are too young to have a long story.”

“You’re right, I am—but I do. In a nutshell, Mr. Rawlings and I were married, we divorced, and he asked me to marry him again, and I said yes. Madeline, I’ve made a lot of mistakes—especially in the last few years. I don’t want to make another one.”

The whites of Madeline’s eyes shone like beacons in the darkness. “Madame el, I don’t know your
long story
. I can see you are blessed with people who love you, and in the short time I’ve known you, I understand why. When Monsieur Rawlings arrived, I saw the love and joy in your eyes. Why are you now reconsidering?”

“Oh, I’m not—I love him—I do.” Claire hoped Madeline wouldn’t notice the tears quietly descending her cheeks. She worked to keep her voice steady. “Before we marry—again—I need to know some things. I need some answers.”

“It isn’t my place, so if you don’t want my advice, I will leave.”

Claire shook her head. “I didn’t grow up with
places
. This way of living is part of my long story. So, Madeline, I’d be honored to hear your advice.”

“Madame el, things happen for a reason. If your long story is all happy, that’s wonderful; however, I believe there’s more to it. Some of the answers you seek—you are afraid of what you may learn, oui?”

Claire nodded.

“You love him, despite that long story, oui?”

Claire nodded again. “I do.”

“And, Madame el, he loves you. Does he know your story?”

“Yes—he knows my story.”

“What we fear is what we do not know. When something is cloaked by the darkness of uncertainty, it’s a mystery. Allowing light to penetrate that darkness makes everything clear”—she pointed out to the dark sea—“Look at the ocean. In the darkness, all you can do is listen to the wind and the waves. You ask yourself, are there creatures, boats, or untold dangers lurking? We don’t know, and then, in our minds we create perils that do not truly exist. In the morning when the sun shines and you see into the depths of the crystal blue water, or all the way out to the horizon, you know you are safe”—Squeezing Claire’s hand, she added—“In the light of day, I see your love. Please don’t allow the dark of night to hide what is right in front of you. Even if those answers are not what you want to hear, do you think they can be as bad as you imagine?”

Claire shrugged. “I really don’t know. I know I want to not think about them right now and worry about them later.”

Madeline’s voice slowed. “If that will make you feel best; however, I’ve found that the longer I put off turning on the light, the bigger the monster under my bed becomes.” Once again, she squeezed Claire’s hand and then reached into her pocket and handed Claire a tissue. “May I get you anything else?”

Claire wiped her eyes and cheeks. Miraculously, the tears served as a vent, releasing some of the pressure from her temples. Her headache wasn’t as intense. With a sad smile, she replied, “You’ve given me a lot, thank you. Have a good night.”

“Good night, Madame el.”

Enjoying the calm of the darkness, Claire reflected on Madeline’s words. If only Madeline knew the truth—at one time—that monster in the dark was actually the man in the other room. Now the monster was a woman Claire trusted.
Could she ever trust her own instincts?
A faint smile came to her lips as she remembered Phil’s words. He told her to do just that—listen and trust her instincts.

When Claire stood to move to their room, she saw the shadow near the end of the lanai move; instead of going through the house, Claire followed her intuition and walked toward the darkness. Just outside of their suite, Tony stepped from the shadow and gently took Claire into his arms.

His freshly showered scent overpowered the salty sea breeze and penetrated her senses. Claire loved the scent of his cologne. In the morning, she’d order some.

Tony looked down into her eyes. “I like that smile. After what I heard, I wasn’t expecting to see it.”

“How much did you hear?”