Phil smiled, “Good, I like your eyes much better green.” He turned and walked toward the highboy containing bottles of fine liquors. Phil poured himself two fingers of Cognac as Claire disappeared into the bedroom.
When she returned, wearing a casual pair of yoga pants, a t-shirt, and no contacts, she saw Phil’s intense glower. As their eyes met he said, “I’ve watched both of you.” He finished the Cognac and added more to his glass. “I realize this whole thing is to hurt your ex-husband,” he shrugged his shoulders, “which could work out well for me. But... I have to say, I’ve watched a lot of people. Love and hate are both strong emotions. You’ve sacrificed everyone you hold dear to hurt Anthony Rawlings. You could’ve gone on living in California. The governor of Iowa wiped your record clean. Yet, your anger, your crusade was continually met by him. You told me it was a game to him. I think it was a game to both of you, a real life chess game. Every move you made he countered. In order to get his king, you sacrificed your queen, a bold move. One I believe will work. But at what cost?”
Claire stood dumbfounded. She didn’t understand Phil’s words. “What are you saying? You think I’m here to hurt Tony?”
Phil swallowed the remaining contents of his tumbler, “That’s what Ms. London said. She said you wanted away from him. You were afraid to leave him, of what he’d do... so this was the plan.” Claire tried to follow. “Pretty creative; you exploited Mr. Rawlings’ obsession with you, his Achilles heel, to penetrate his invincibility.”
Claire didn’t speak, she couldn’t. Her mind swirled as the cyclone of thoughts became a category five hurricane. Phil took her silence as an invitation to continue his notion. “I read your theories of retaliation, for sins of past generations. I’m not saying they aren’t true. Nonetheless, don’t you find it odd? The only person who continues to survive is you.”
Claire stuttered, “You... you read my theories? Where?”
“On your laptop -- of course.”
Claire involuntarily took two steps backward. Her legs hit the sofa and she crumbled into the soft cushions. “You found my laptop?”
“Yes, the night you were attacked. It was in Patrick Chester’s hotel room.”
Her eyes flashed, “And you gave it to Tony?”
He shrugged as he poured another two fingers, “I tried. He was preoccupied -- with you. Actually, he was in the air when I found it. I reached Ms. London instead. She’s the one who told me your plan, very ingenious.” He tipped his glass in Claire’s direction.
Claire realized the liquor was helping his honesty. “What exactly did she say?”
“She told me to bring it to Iowa; I did. You were still in the hospital.”
“So Tony never got the laptop?”
“She told me she’d give it to him. He contacted me after you woke. He told me you were going to Iowa, and my job was done. He wasn’t happy with me. I think he blamed me for Patrick Chester getting to you. Honestly, I don’t think we ever discussed the laptop.” Phil cocked his head to one side, “Your ex can be difficult.”
She lowered her head near her knees; the fullness of her midsection restricted her motion. She straightened. “Yes, a very ingenious plan; however, I can’t take credit.” Claire leaned toward Phil, “You told me before, you work for money. Who’s paying you – now?”
“You -- Ms. London gave me the starter money, but you’re paying me for everything else. Did your transaction work?”
“Are you still reporting to her?”
“No, not since I told her you were out of the U.S. She didn’t want to know more – plausible deniability.”
Claire pointed to the house phone. “Would you call for some dinner? I have many questions and would prefer to not spend this evening in public.” She softened her tone, “If that is all right with my husband?”
Phil smiled, “That’s fine. I enjoy the privacy.”
Claire smiled a tired smile. She was suddenly exhausted, mentally and physically drained.
After their dinner arrived, Phil and Claire settled onto the wrought iron table on the balcony. She needed more answers before she could decide her future or that of her child’s. Their discussion continued as the shadows turned to twilight and darkness prevailed. Though sitting in the center of nature’s beauty, Geneva’s abundant artificial radiance impeded the stars. Manufactured glitter extended everywhere, even onto Lake Geneva as the reflection added illumination to the night.
Phil informed Claire, “Due to your family’s insistence, Mr. Rawlings is currently being pursued by the police and media as a person of interest in your disappearance.”
Claire frowned, “That wasn’t supposed to happen. If anyone should be considered a person of interest, it should be the person who sent me the scary things and tried to run Clay off the road.”
Phil looked at Claire quizzically, “Well, that would make it difficult for me to help you, then. Wouldn’t it?”
Her hand suddenly trembled as she sat her water glass upon the table and stared. “What are you saying?”
Phil saw Claire’s sudden fear and casually covered her hand, “I never intended to hurt you.”
Her eyes widened as she retrieved her hand, “I don’t understand?”
“Claire, Ms. London said you were involved. It all led to this escape. I would never have sent those awful packages or pushed your car if I didn’t think you were behind it.”
When she returned, wearing a casual pair of yoga pants, a t-shirt, and no contacts, she saw Phil’s intense glower. As their eyes met he said, “I’ve watched both of you.” He finished the Cognac and added more to his glass. “I realize this whole thing is to hurt your ex-husband,” he shrugged his shoulders, “which could work out well for me. But... I have to say, I’ve watched a lot of people. Love and hate are both strong emotions. You’ve sacrificed everyone you hold dear to hurt Anthony Rawlings. You could’ve gone on living in California. The governor of Iowa wiped your record clean. Yet, your anger, your crusade was continually met by him. You told me it was a game to him. I think it was a game to both of you, a real life chess game. Every move you made he countered. In order to get his king, you sacrificed your queen, a bold move. One I believe will work. But at what cost?”
Claire stood dumbfounded. She didn’t understand Phil’s words. “What are you saying? You think I’m here to hurt Tony?”
Phil swallowed the remaining contents of his tumbler, “That’s what Ms. London said. She said you wanted away from him. You were afraid to leave him, of what he’d do... so this was the plan.” Claire tried to follow. “Pretty creative; you exploited Mr. Rawlings’ obsession with you, his Achilles heel, to penetrate his invincibility.”
Claire didn’t speak, she couldn’t. Her mind swirled as the cyclone of thoughts became a category five hurricane. Phil took her silence as an invitation to continue his notion. “I read your theories of retaliation, for sins of past generations. I’m not saying they aren’t true. Nonetheless, don’t you find it odd? The only person who continues to survive is you.”
Claire stuttered, “You... you read my theories? Where?”
“On your laptop -- of course.”
Claire involuntarily took two steps backward. Her legs hit the sofa and she crumbled into the soft cushions. “You found my laptop?”
“Yes, the night you were attacked. It was in Patrick Chester’s hotel room.”
Her eyes flashed, “And you gave it to Tony?”
He shrugged as he poured another two fingers, “I tried. He was preoccupied -- with you. Actually, he was in the air when I found it. I reached Ms. London instead. She’s the one who told me your plan, very ingenious.” He tipped his glass in Claire’s direction.
Claire realized the liquor was helping his honesty. “What exactly did she say?”
“She told me to bring it to Iowa; I did. You were still in the hospital.”
“So Tony never got the laptop?”
“She told me she’d give it to him. He contacted me after you woke. He told me you were going to Iowa, and my job was done. He wasn’t happy with me. I think he blamed me for Patrick Chester getting to you. Honestly, I don’t think we ever discussed the laptop.” Phil cocked his head to one side, “Your ex can be difficult.”
She lowered her head near her knees; the fullness of her midsection restricted her motion. She straightened. “Yes, a very ingenious plan; however, I can’t take credit.” Claire leaned toward Phil, “You told me before, you work for money. Who’s paying you – now?”
“You -- Ms. London gave me the starter money, but you’re paying me for everything else. Did your transaction work?”
“Are you still reporting to her?”
“No, not since I told her you were out of the U.S. She didn’t want to know more – plausible deniability.”
Claire pointed to the house phone. “Would you call for some dinner? I have many questions and would prefer to not spend this evening in public.” She softened her tone, “If that is all right with my husband?”
Phil smiled, “That’s fine. I enjoy the privacy.”
Claire smiled a tired smile. She was suddenly exhausted, mentally and physically drained.
After their dinner arrived, Phil and Claire settled onto the wrought iron table on the balcony. She needed more answers before she could decide her future or that of her child’s. Their discussion continued as the shadows turned to twilight and darkness prevailed. Though sitting in the center of nature’s beauty, Geneva’s abundant artificial radiance impeded the stars. Manufactured glitter extended everywhere, even onto Lake Geneva as the reflection added illumination to the night.
Phil informed Claire, “Due to your family’s insistence, Mr. Rawlings is currently being pursued by the police and media as a person of interest in your disappearance.”
Claire frowned, “That wasn’t supposed to happen. If anyone should be considered a person of interest, it should be the person who sent me the scary things and tried to run Clay off the road.”
Phil looked at Claire quizzically, “Well, that would make it difficult for me to help you, then. Wouldn’t it?”
Her hand suddenly trembled as she sat her water glass upon the table and stared. “What are you saying?”
Phil saw Claire’s sudden fear and casually covered her hand, “I never intended to hurt you.”
Her eyes widened as she retrieved her hand, “I don’t understand?”
“Claire, Ms. London said you were involved. It all led to this escape. I would never have sent those awful packages or pushed your car if I didn’t think you were behind it.”
