Revealed: The Missing Years
Page 12

 Aleatha Romig

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“I-I need to do something. Anything.” The sadness in Courtney’s voice pulled at Brent’s heart.
He turned the corner, met his wife’s puffy-eyed stare, and rushed to her side.
The entire room gasped in unison as Courtney flew from her seat and wrapped her arms tightly around Brent’s neck, surrounding her husband in a frantic embrace. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God…” Her words became unrecognizable as she shuddered with sobs.
“How? How? It’s a miracle,” Courtney managed between sniffles.
“I didn’t know anything about the accident until I landed. I tried to call…”
Courtney’s unwavering embrace stilled his words. Finally, she asked, “Why weren’t you on the Rawlings plane?”
Caleb’s voice came through the speaker. “What’s happening?”
Bev and Sue smiled as Bev picked up Courtney’s phone, turned off the speaker, and said, “Caleb…” She couldn’t keep the tears from falling. “…there’s someone here to talk to you.”
Prying his arm free from his wife, Brent took the phone. “Hi, son. Apparently, the reports of my death are a bit exaggerated.”
Caleb and Julia could both be heard gasping. Brent smiled. “Let me put you back on speaker. I had a few papers that needed to be tweaked and at the last minute decided to grab a commercial flight. I didn’t know anything about it until I landed. My battery was dead so I tried to call from a pay phone. I left your mom a message.” His eyes twinkled toward his wife. “But you know how she is: she never checks her messages.”
“We’re still coming home, and I just got a text from Maryn. Her plane lands about the same time as ours. We’ll all be home this evening.”
It had been Christmas since he’d had both of his children and daughter-in-law together. “Thanks for taking care of your mom. I love you all and can’t wait to see you,” Brent said before he disconnected the line.
The joyous mood turned somber as Sue came forward and hugged Brent. “I wish the others had waited too.”
Brent’s eyes misted. “I’ve been thinking about them since I heard. I can’t believe it. Do they have any idea what happened?”
Courtney’s head moved slowly from side to side. “I’m so sorry. I feel guilty being happy. I know what Sophia is going through.”
Brent made no attempt to conceal the tears as he scanned the room. Looking to Sue, with her arms wrapped around her growing midsection and her cheeks dampened by emotion, he asked, “Poor Tim. As if he doesn’t have enough happening. I need to help him.”
Sue nodded. “I just texted him. He should call in a few minutes. He’ll be so happy to learn you weren’t on that flight, but Brent, there’s so much more.”
Brent sat silently as Courtney and Sue tag-teamed the significant details of the past few hours. When Courtney received the news about the flight, Claire panicked. She was upset, but also concerned about Tony’s reaction if he learned about it while with Catherine. Claire was certain that Catherine was responsible. Once Sue was on her way to stay with Courtney, Claire took Nichol and headed over to the estate. No one really knows what happened there. They only know that Tony is currently in police custody, and Claire is at the hospital with pending charges of attempted murder as well as aiding and abetting a fugitive.
“Thank God, Emily’s here. She has Nichol,” Courtney added.
Brent tried to process as he fought the onset of emotion. His brow glistened with perspiration at the realization: he was supposed to be dead. Derek Burke, Sharon Michaels, the pilot, and copilot were all dead. That wasn’t all: Tony had been arrested and Claire had charges pending. That wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. The FBI promised that no charges would be filed against Claire.
“I need to get to them,” Brent said.
“You two need some time alone, before the kids arrive,” Bev suggested.
Brent thought about Claire’s words in Meredith’s book. She’d already lived through hell, and he’d done nothing to help. He wasn’t dead—he was alive. Brent wouldn’t sit back again and do nothing. He couldn’t. “I’m fine. I’m not doing this because it’s my job. I want to help them. I have knowledge and proof. I need to get the FBI involved. The Iowa police don’t realize all that has been done and the deals that have been made. With Meredith’s book out there, I’m guessing they won’t be willing to listen to Tony. I have to go.”
Courtney wiped her eyes and nodded. “Then I’m going with you. I’m not letting you out of my sight, and I need to be sure they’re both all right—and that Nichol Courtney’s safe and sound.”
Friendship multiplies the good of life and divides the evil.
—Baltasar Gracian
The cinder-block walls matched those from his memory. Only now, it wasn’t his grandfather who was led to and fro by a guard; it was Tony. This was different than when he’d been questioned by the FBI: at that time Tony had hope. He’d had hope of finding Claire, hope that the FBI would reveal something to him, and hope of being free. Sometime in the past year, his hope bloomed and blossomed. In paradise it was alive and well. During the last few hours, it wilted before his eyes and lay at his feet gasping for its final breath. Tony gathered the fortitude to fight the overwhelming cloud of doom that threatened everything he held dear.
He suddenly realized how simplistic his existence had been. Decision-making had been much easier without emotional attachment. Now, every thought process pointed in one direction—his family.