Behind His Eyes: Truth
Page 60
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“MS. NICHOLS’ PLANE JUST LANDED. MR. BALDWIN WAITING AND LUGGAGE BEING PUT INTO HIS CAR. I WILL FOLLOW.”
The muscles in Tony’s neck tightened. Does picking her up at the airport constitute a date? Tony tried to tell himself it didn’t. Besides, would he rather have her in a taxi with some stranger? They’d spent four days together, made love on three different occasions, and had a baby on the way. While reasoning words went through his thoughts, the clenched jaws and tightened shoulders revealed the jealousy coursing through his veins.
Tony replied to Phillip Roach:
“KEEP HER IN SIGHT. LET ME KNOW IF THERE ARE ANY STOPS ON THE WAY TO THE CONDO. WHERE IS THAT PICTURE?”
Text message number two, to Claire:
“OUR AGREEMENT FORBIDS PUBLIC EXPOSURE WITH ANYONE ELSE! I THOUGHT I’D MADE THAT CLEAR! WE HAVE AN UNDERSTANDING!”
Exclamation marks were so overused in text messages—Tony hesitated. Once sent, he wouldn’t be able to retrieve it. He repeatedly hit the backspace and typed once again:
“I’M GLAD THE AIR WAS TO YOUR LIKING. REMEMBER OUR AGREEMENT. CALL WHEN YOU’RE SETTLED.”
The restraint was difficult, but he knew he wasn’t going to win her back without effort. Although the damn press would have a field day if they saw her with Baldwin, Tony reminded himself to do what he’d told her to do—trust.
Exhaling, he tried. It wasn’t easy, especially since he’d never done it before.
The sound and vibration announced another incoming text message. This one was from Phillip Roach:
“THE PICTURE WAS SENT TO YOUR EMAIL. LET ME KNOW IF YOU DON’T HAVE IT.”
Shit, Tony had been trying to read the acquisition documents and forgot to check his email. He switched screens. There was the email from Roach with an attachment. Opening the attachment, Tony looked at the grainy photo. The poor quality was undoubtedly due too many enlarging attempts. Tony pushed his leather chair away from the screen, and tried to focus and refine the image before him. It was a man with little to no hair. Was he older and balding or younger with his head shaved? Looking closer, Tony guessed he was older. Normally, Tony was excellent with names and faces, and he saw a hint of familiarity. Perhaps it had been a long time since he’d seen him, or maybe the man had been on television or in the news? Regardless, the twinge of recognition bothered Tony. Why would someone he recognized steal Claire’s laptop?
Two more text messages came through his cell phone. The first one, from Claire:
“I DO. I WILL LATER.”
Tony exhaled. It took every fiber of self-restraint to not get on another plane and bring her home.
Second message, from Phillip Roach:
“DID YOU GET THE EMAIL? I CAN RESEND.”
Tony replied:
“I DID. KEEP CONSTANT SURVEILLANCE. I DON’T LIKE THIS.”
About ten minutes later, Roach texted again:
“MS NICHOLS ARRIVED AT CONDO. NO STOPS ON WAY.”
Tony breathed a sigh of relief. She could follow his rules. Five more days…
Tony’s cell phone rang. The screen read PHILLIP ROACH. Panic bubbled below the surface as he answered. “Hello, Rawlings h—”
Roach’s words came fast, sounding as if he were yelling and running at the same time. “I just read my sensors. She’s in her unit and it was opened twenty minutes ago.”
“What the hell do you mean it was opened twenty minutes ago? I thought Amber was gone? Roach? Roach! Answer me, God-damn-it!”
Instead of answering, Tony heard Roach speaking with someone on the other end. “Has anyone been to unit 4A recently?” Roach repeated himself louder. “The unit that was broken into last week—has anyone been up there?”
Tony’s world, which only hours ago had been a slice of heaven, plunged into the depths of hell. Not only was his worst nightmare coming true, but from thousands of miles away he was powerless to stop it. Tony continued to scream into the phone, “Get to her. Someone get to her now!”
From his earpiece he heard voices: “Yes, there was a delivery. The man had the appropriate documents.”
“Is this the man?”
“I don’t know. He had documents. Yeah, maybe… he was bald.”
“Call 911 and get me up there right away!”
Tony heard everything, yet could do nothing. How long would it take to get up four flights? He disconnected from Roach and scrolled through his contacts, finding Harrison Baldwin. Tony hit CALL.
After three rings, the call went to voice mail. Tony disconnected and called again. This time Baldwin answered. Tony didn’t wait for pleasantries. “Mr. Baldwin, this is Anthony Rawlings. Go to Claire’s unit immediately. You have to listen to me. Someone’s in there and she’s not safe.”
When Baldwin didn’t respond, Tony continued, his voice louder by the second as he screamed in desperation. “Damn it! I know you can hear me! I know you just drove her home! Go to her—before it’s too late!”
“Is this some kind of joke? How would you know—”
“Please! Please, Mr. Baldwin, there’s no time to lose.” Tony believed his chest would explode as he pleaded with this man thousands of miles away. Tony never should have let Claire go, not now, now that he knew about the baby. If anything happened…
Baldwin had responded and Tony heard commotion. It was the most helpless he’d felt in his entire life. Did he hear Claire? Was there a scream?
Catherine came rushing in. “What’s happening? Why are you yelling—”
The muscles in Tony’s neck tightened. Does picking her up at the airport constitute a date? Tony tried to tell himself it didn’t. Besides, would he rather have her in a taxi with some stranger? They’d spent four days together, made love on three different occasions, and had a baby on the way. While reasoning words went through his thoughts, the clenched jaws and tightened shoulders revealed the jealousy coursing through his veins.
Tony replied to Phillip Roach:
“KEEP HER IN SIGHT. LET ME KNOW IF THERE ARE ANY STOPS ON THE WAY TO THE CONDO. WHERE IS THAT PICTURE?”
Text message number two, to Claire:
“OUR AGREEMENT FORBIDS PUBLIC EXPOSURE WITH ANYONE ELSE! I THOUGHT I’D MADE THAT CLEAR! WE HAVE AN UNDERSTANDING!”
Exclamation marks were so overused in text messages—Tony hesitated. Once sent, he wouldn’t be able to retrieve it. He repeatedly hit the backspace and typed once again:
“I’M GLAD THE AIR WAS TO YOUR LIKING. REMEMBER OUR AGREEMENT. CALL WHEN YOU’RE SETTLED.”
The restraint was difficult, but he knew he wasn’t going to win her back without effort. Although the damn press would have a field day if they saw her with Baldwin, Tony reminded himself to do what he’d told her to do—trust.
Exhaling, he tried. It wasn’t easy, especially since he’d never done it before.
The sound and vibration announced another incoming text message. This one was from Phillip Roach:
“THE PICTURE WAS SENT TO YOUR EMAIL. LET ME KNOW IF YOU DON’T HAVE IT.”
Shit, Tony had been trying to read the acquisition documents and forgot to check his email. He switched screens. There was the email from Roach with an attachment. Opening the attachment, Tony looked at the grainy photo. The poor quality was undoubtedly due too many enlarging attempts. Tony pushed his leather chair away from the screen, and tried to focus and refine the image before him. It was a man with little to no hair. Was he older and balding or younger with his head shaved? Looking closer, Tony guessed he was older. Normally, Tony was excellent with names and faces, and he saw a hint of familiarity. Perhaps it had been a long time since he’d seen him, or maybe the man had been on television or in the news? Regardless, the twinge of recognition bothered Tony. Why would someone he recognized steal Claire’s laptop?
Two more text messages came through his cell phone. The first one, from Claire:
“I DO. I WILL LATER.”
Tony exhaled. It took every fiber of self-restraint to not get on another plane and bring her home.
Second message, from Phillip Roach:
“DID YOU GET THE EMAIL? I CAN RESEND.”
Tony replied:
“I DID. KEEP CONSTANT SURVEILLANCE. I DON’T LIKE THIS.”
About ten minutes later, Roach texted again:
“MS NICHOLS ARRIVED AT CONDO. NO STOPS ON WAY.”
Tony breathed a sigh of relief. She could follow his rules. Five more days…
Tony’s cell phone rang. The screen read PHILLIP ROACH. Panic bubbled below the surface as he answered. “Hello, Rawlings h—”
Roach’s words came fast, sounding as if he were yelling and running at the same time. “I just read my sensors. She’s in her unit and it was opened twenty minutes ago.”
“What the hell do you mean it was opened twenty minutes ago? I thought Amber was gone? Roach? Roach! Answer me, God-damn-it!”
Instead of answering, Tony heard Roach speaking with someone on the other end. “Has anyone been to unit 4A recently?” Roach repeated himself louder. “The unit that was broken into last week—has anyone been up there?”
Tony’s world, which only hours ago had been a slice of heaven, plunged into the depths of hell. Not only was his worst nightmare coming true, but from thousands of miles away he was powerless to stop it. Tony continued to scream into the phone, “Get to her. Someone get to her now!”
From his earpiece he heard voices: “Yes, there was a delivery. The man had the appropriate documents.”
“Is this the man?”
“I don’t know. He had documents. Yeah, maybe… he was bald.”
“Call 911 and get me up there right away!”
Tony heard everything, yet could do nothing. How long would it take to get up four flights? He disconnected from Roach and scrolled through his contacts, finding Harrison Baldwin. Tony hit CALL.
After three rings, the call went to voice mail. Tony disconnected and called again. This time Baldwin answered. Tony didn’t wait for pleasantries. “Mr. Baldwin, this is Anthony Rawlings. Go to Claire’s unit immediately. You have to listen to me. Someone’s in there and she’s not safe.”
When Baldwin didn’t respond, Tony continued, his voice louder by the second as he screamed in desperation. “Damn it! I know you can hear me! I know you just drove her home! Go to her—before it’s too late!”
“Is this some kind of joke? How would you know—”
“Please! Please, Mr. Baldwin, there’s no time to lose.” Tony believed his chest would explode as he pleaded with this man thousands of miles away. Tony never should have let Claire go, not now, now that he knew about the baby. If anything happened…
Baldwin had responded and Tony heard commotion. It was the most helpless he’d felt in his entire life. Did he hear Claire? Was there a scream?
Catherine came rushing in. “What’s happening? Why are you yelling—”