Текст книги "Truth "
Автор книги: Aleatha Romig
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Текущая страница: 33 (всего у книги 42 страниц)
Love comes when manipulation stops; when you think moreabout the other person than about his or her reactions to you. When you dare to reveal yourself fully. When you dare to be vulnerable.
—Dr. Joyce Brothers
Chapter 47
Reality began to focus as Claire’s blissful dreams gave way to the intermittent beeping of her iPhone. She tried to push the sound of her unanswered text messages away and stay in her warm safe cocoon. Undaunted, the beeping continued. Blindly, Claire reached next to her on the large ornately carved four poster bed, for her iPhone. It was where she’d left it, after falling asleep talking to Amber until very late, Iowa time. Claire concentrated on the time: 7:35.
She assessed her body. How did she feel about waking this early? After a few moments she determined neither her body nor her baby were protesting. Claire focused, reading the text messages. The first from Amber: IM GLAD WE TALKED. SEE YOU SUNDAY. The next from Tony: IF YOU ARE FEELING UP TO BREAKFAST, MEET ME ON THE PATIO AT 8. Claire wondered if that was an invitation or a mandate. Either way, her presence was requested in less than a half an hour.
Making her way to the bathroom and washing her face, Claire decided, If Tony wants to see me this early, this is what he gets. She wrapped herself in the pink robe and made her way to the patio. The morning summer sun rose in the southeast, beginning its ascent considerably earlier than Claire. Therefore, by the time she arrived to the patio, it was making its way over the trees and illuminating the brick terrace with its morning brilliance. As soon as Tony saw Claire through the French doors, he moved his coffee cup away and stood.
“Good morning, I wasn’t sure you would wake for my text.”
“Good morning,” she smiled, “I did.” She sat, at the seat complete with a place setting, obviously for her. Immediately, Cindy was beside her.
“Ms. Claire, would you like some coffee or some tea?”
“Tea, thank you, Cindy.”
Cindy scurried away toward the kitchen, leaving Tony and Claire alone in the warming fresh country air.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked with concern evident in his tone.
“I’m feeling well, which is surprising, thinking how early this is in California.”
Tony smirked, “I think you’re getting used to being in Iowa. It probably isn’t a great idea to keep changing time zones; maybe you should stay here.”
Claire smiled half-heartedly. “I don’t think that would resolve any of my current issues.”
“Oh, but you’re mistaken. It would be ever so helpful.” Tony reached for the bowl of fresh fruit. “Would you like some fruit?”
After Claire spooned some fresh melon and grapes into her bowl, she asked, “Why did you summon me here so early?”
He reached for her hand, “Claire, why do you think everything has double meaning?”
She swallowed a mouthful of juicy fruit and replied, “Because, I know you.”
Tony laughed, “Better than most.”
“What’s your plan?”
“I wanted to discuss the day. I plan to work from home this morning and was hoping we could spend time together before the wedding.”
“I told Sue I might be available to meet her and Sean this morning in Iowa City. I think I’d like that.”
Tony sat back and contemplated. Finally he said, “Eric can drive you.”
She tried her best to keep her defenses at bay, “I was thinking – perhaps you have a car that isn’t worth half a million, that you’d let me borrow for a quick drive into town?”
Claire watched Tony’s mental and physical wheels turn. She knew she’d sent his controlling impulses into overdrive. The muscles in his neck intermittently protruded as his jaw clenched and unclenched. She drank some orange juice and enjoyed the show.
Finally he asked with a smirk, “Are you enjoying yourself?”
Claire grinned, “Immensely, thanks for asking.”
Clouds darkened his expression, “The last time you drove away...”
“This time I am talking to you about it,” she interrupted. “I want to meet Sue for coffee. I will return, and you and I will go to the wedding – together.”
“I thought coffee made you ill?”
Claire smirked, “Coffee is an aphorism for getting together. I can guarantee I will not be having coffee.”
“Getting together? About what?”
Claire sat straighter. “This is what I don’t want.”
“Concern Claire – that is what I have. After all, someone broke into your condominium last night. Don’t you think you should be concerned?”
Cindy brought eggs and toast to Claire and sat them in front of her. After Claire thanked her, she left. Her attention returned to Tony. “How do you know about that?”
“So you aren’t surprised?”
“No. I spoke to others about it last night. And I suppose I’m not surprised you know.”
“Others?”
“Yes, Tony – friends, Harry called. I spoke to him and to Amber. They are both well, thank you for asking.”
“Why are you not more upset?”
“I was initially, but now I think you’re responsible.”
His spine straightened. “Claire, why would I have someone break into your condo?”
“I don’t know. Whoever it was took my laptop. The only secret information on there is about you.” Claire continued to eat.
Tony sat his cup of coffee on the table, “Me?”
“Yes, I’ve been trying to reconstruct the information from the box I received. I’ve spent a lot of time looking up information about your grandfather and father. It’s on my laptop.” Claire watched as his jaws once again clenched and unclenched.
“I have nothing to do with this break in,” Tony said. “I do, however, think you should consider staying here. It is significantly safer.”
“Well, Tony, I’m being honest with you. That laptop contains information regarding Nathaniel and Samuel Rawls. If you aren’t the person responsible for its disappearance, perhaps you’d like to learn who has it.”
“I will do my best. This is getting out of hand.”
“Well, back to my original question, do you have a car I can take into town for coffee with Sue? I need to call her.”
Tony leaned forward, “Claire, are you asking? I’m having difficulty with your wording.”
“Are we in the presence of others?” She looked to her right and saw the empty pool deck. She looked to her left and saw the southeast wing of the mansion; she knew the woods and gardens were behind her. “No, I’m not asking permission to go into town, only permission to use one of your cars. I would hate to be accused of stealing.”
With her get-together complete, Claire maneuvered the BMW toward Tony’s estate and contemplated the long winding drive. She tried unsuccessfully to diminish the beauty of it. She’d driven off his estate twice; this was her first solo drive back onto it. Looking at the dashboard clock, it was nearly eleven, and the wedding wasn’t until five thirty.
Coffee with Sue was nice. Sue obviously felt guilty for not supporting Claire in her troubles. In many ways Claire felt bad lying to Sue now about her and Tony’s reconciliation. Or was she? Claire’s emotions were so jumbled – sometimes she didn’t know what was real and what was pretend. To Claire, the best part of their meeting was seeing Sean again. While the ladies chatted, he busied himself with toys. Claire smiled, remembering how Sue picked the bright colored rattles off the floor at least fifty times.
Claire pulled the car to the front door, not worrying about taking it around to the garage. Eric would do that. As she walked up the steps toward the house Claire realized how easy it was to slip into that place where others did things for her. Was this part of Tony’s plan? Did he want her to remember the perks of being here?
She opened the door to the massive sparkling entry. While she decided if she wanted to go upstairs to her suite or down the hall to Tony’s office, Catherine came hurriedly down the hall to greet her. “Claire, you are back!”
“Yes, I just went to town,” Claire looked questionably at Catherine, “Did you think I wouldn’t come back?”
“I was only concerned when Mr. Rawlings told me you’d taken one of the cars.”
“Where is he?” Claire asked.
“He is in his office. Would you like me to let him know you are back?”
Claire remembered his rules: she was only allowed in his office by invitation or summons. Claire decided this was another opportunity to push the envelope. “No, thank you. I will.” She saw Catherine’s surprised expression as Claire turned toward the corridor and walked to office. Should she knock?
As she contemplated, she heard his voice from behind the large doors, “... that was two days ago. I wanted an answer yesterday. Your incompetence is...” His speech stalled, hearing the simultaneous knock and opening of his door. Claire watched his expression morph through a series of emotions. Wasn’t there a time when she couldn’t read his thoughts? Seeing him go from anger – at the person on the telephone – to shock at the unrequested intrusion and finally to amusement by Claire’s forwardness, she wondered how anyone couldn’t read his every thought. With a mischievous smile, he continued speaking. Although his heart was no longer in his tirade, he attempted to conceal that from the poor soul on the other end of the line. “It seems as though another pressing matter has come to my attention. We will postpone this conversation. Mr. George, I expect to hear from you Monday morning. Do not disappoint me.” He disconnected the line. His eyes remained fixed on Claire’s from the moment she opened the door.
She smiled as he walked around the large mahogany desk toward her. His movements were graceful yet powerful, like a lion stalking its prey. The light behind his intense dark chocolate eyes made her tingle with anticipation. She’d seen that sultry look before. Why was she smiling? She’d come to his office to let him know she was back, and suddenly the temperature of the regal room was rising exponentially.
She thought about his words on the phone. She’d heard that closing statement a hundred times. “That should be your tag line.”
“Oh, but you are so right.” He was now only inches away, looking down into her confident expression. His cologne penetrated her nostrils and filled her lungs. “I do not like being disappointed.”
“I remember that about you.” She hesitated. If she just leaned forward, they would be touching. She stood straight, fighting the urge for contact. “Your car has been returned in one piece, scarcely a scratch.”
The tips of his lips twitched and his eyebrow cocked, “A scratch?”
Claire’s grin broadened, “Wasn’t that your concern, that I might scratch it?”
He took the initiative and leaned forward. Their subtle touch increased the beating of her heart. Almost instantaneously, her tender breasts responded to the sensation of his massive chest. “I don’t recall being concerned with a scratch,” he said. “The whole damn car can be replaced. I believe my concern was with your safe return.” Because, Claire hadn’t resisted their contact, Tony chose to make another move, wrapping his arms around the small of her back. With their proximity, her face tipped upward.
Her mind told her to back away. However, she could barely hear the instructions over the intense pulsation of blood in her ears. Her words slowed with breathy expectation, “I have returned.”
With one hand still behind her, Tony gently brought her chin skyward. His touch combined with a new husky tone caused Claire’s emerald eyes to flutter. She felt the vibration of his speech against her chest, “You, my dear, are continually teaching me new things?”
“What, pray-tell, have I taught you?”
His lips tenderly brushed hers. “I believe I mentioned before, I liked the black panties. The other night, the light blue satin bra straps monopolized my thoughts. Every time I looked at you, I wondered if it was part of a matching set.” Claire nodded, their noses touching with the movement of her head. “And just now, I realized how much more satisfying it is to have you bring yourself home, freely – willingly, than to know you have been driven, perhaps reluctantly.”
“It seems – s....” Claire giggled, “You can teach an old dog new tricks.” The breath of his laugh bathed her face in warmth. She went on, “and as I recall, you’ve taught me quite a few things too.” Her mind screamed to stop. Did she really want to go here? Yet, her mouth seemed to be attached to another part of her anatomy. That part knew exactly where it wanted to go.
“I had been thinking about the pool, but I am up for review, if you are willing?”
She smiled at the reference. He was definitely up for review. She could feel him up against her hip. This wasn’t her plan either. But for some reason it felt right. Maybe she needed to know. Lifting her hands to his dark hair, Claire allowed her fingers to weave their way through his thick black mane as her green eyes opened wide, searching his softening brown irises.
He pulled her closer, pressing himself against her. She lowered her lids and willingly consented. Parting their lips, their tongues engaged. The passion ignited Claire in ways she’d forgotten. In ways she’d safely compartmentalized away. Even with Harry.
None of it made sense. Claire wanted Tony to pay for his sins. She wanted to bring him down. And, and ... and she wanted what they had, but more... better. She wanted what seemed to be staring her in the face.
Tony – his magnetism, his control, his dominance – was erotic. Claire also wanted freedoms and liberties. She wanted a non-monitored telephone, the ability to come and go, and freedoms... and him.
Didn’t their child deserve to know his or her father? Could Tony ever be a man to swing his small child into his arms with a laugh? Claire told herself, she was consenting for their child, but currently her needs wholly dominated her thoughts.
As Claire’s arms encircled his neck, her breasts tingled against his solid muscular chest. Everything she did or said was brought on by deep suppressed carnal desire. She’d spent too much time during the past three years thinking. Today she wanted to respond and react... she wanted her screaming consciousness to take a much needed break. Claire wanted Tony.
When he bent down with his nose touching hers and asked, “Are you sure?”
Claire didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I’m sure.”
Tony didn’t ask again. Instead he bent slightly and scooped Claire into his arms. They did not stay in the regal office; instead, Tony carried her away from the grand staircase, down the corridor to his room, laying Claire on the large regal bed.
Today she wore pink underwear, matching the color of her top. Once again his skilled fingers played with the bow directly below her bellybutton. After removing the lace bra, he caressed her growing breasts. Their tenderness intensified his manipulation, rousing stimulation and bringing Claire unknown ecstasy. His prowess within the defined skill set was unequaled. Multiple times Claire gripped Tony’s shoulders or the satin sheets trying desperately to remain earth bound as her body surged toward heaven.
When they were both satisfied, she laid within the crook of his arm enjoying the feel of her head on his shoulder and his intoxicating scent. Claire thought about what she’d done. Unashamedly, she didn’t regret her decisions. His steady breathing was an aphrodisiac, electrifying her already taut body. Was this insatiable need, too, a result of the pregnancy? The more he gave, the more she wanted.
The draperies of his large windows were open. The midday sunshine illuminated his suite. Seeing past the glass, the crystal blue sky reminded her of the pool. “Do you think we could have lunch at the pool and enjoy some of this day outside?”
He turned to her with a grin that matched his sultry stare, “I would like to stay here forever, but I like the idea of getting you more sun.”
Her lips found his neck and began to roam, between suckles she said, “At this second, I wouldn’t argue, with staying here.” The low growl elicited by her actions was enough to split her body wide open. “But, I’m hungry, and that sky, looks beautiful.”
He rolled her onto her back as her long brown hair fanned the pillow behind her glowing face. “Not as beautiful as you look this moment.”
Claire felt her cheeks blush. Her eyes went to the grand ceiling above as she felt his lips nuzzle her collar bone and move south. “Mr. Rawlings, I believe we were discussing lunch?”
His smile filled her as much as his actions. Claire didn’t want to enjoy it or him. But she did. When she sat to get out of his bed, her vision turned toward his grand fireplace. There were so many good memories associated with that hearth and the warmth radiating from it. What caught her attention causing the air to leave her lungs was above the fireplace.
“Tony,” she stammered, “how long have you had that there?”
His expression changed. Had he forgotten her wedding portrait was hanging above his fireplace? “Ever since you left.”
Perhaps it is impossible to wear an identity without becoming what you pretend to be.
—Orson Scott Card
Chapter 48
Pictures of Tony and Claire flooded the internet. Someone at Brent and Courtney’s house made good use of their cellphone. There were even pictures of Claire with Sue in Iowa City. Claire wondered, isn’t there any real news happening in the world right now?
As she viewed each picture, Claire questioned her expressions. How long could she continue to argue her facade? Was she truly that accomplished at lying, or had Tony’s bold move and forced togetherness induced his desired outcome? Could Claire possibly be enjoying herself with him?
As she completed the final touches of her wedding attire, Claire thought about their afternoon. From his office, to his suite, and the pool deck with the warm sultry water...his expressions and touches kept her body on high alert. Even while napping under the shade of a large umbrella, Claire remembered the feel of his large strong hands caressing her skin with sunscreen. It wasn’t the first time her body rebelled against her better judgment. Claire reasoned, tomorrow I will fight. Today I want to enjoy.
Radiant was the word in Tony’s mind as he watched Claire descend the grand staircase. With the blush of afternoon sun on her cheeks, her hair and makeup done to perfection, and the light green Herve Leger dress she’d found in the closet, Claire looked radiant.
As the Gucci, strappy, five inch heeled sandals clicked across the marble floor, the adoration she saw in his eyes made her cheeks redden.
“I think it’s true what they say,” Tony purred.
She raised an eyebrow, “What do they say?”
“You are glowing – absolutely radiant!”
“Thank you, Mr. Rawlings.” She took in his toned muscular body, covered exquisitely with his customary Armani silk suit. “You are rather handsome yourself.”
They made their way to Tony’s waiting Mercedes and drove to Davenport. On the way Claire asked about Eric. Other than picking her up from the airport, she hadn’t seen him her entire stay.
“Well, if you recall, I offered his services this morning for your trip into town.”
Claire blushed at the memory of her return. “Perhaps I should have taken you up on that offer?”
His hand caressed her knee, “I believe I’m very happy with your choices; bold and cheeky is proving to be another pleasurable lesson.”
“Why, Anthony,” her faux southern belle accent purposefully elongated the yyy, “who would have guessed, you could be open to new things?”
Thankfully, she was sitting and seat belted into the soft leather seat, because Tony’s expression made her knees weak. And the sound of his deep sensual voice caused her insides to melt, “I am always open to new things, especially so – if they involve you.”
Once again she felt the blood rush to her cheeks as they rose in a genuine smile, causing her emerald eyes to glisten. Claire turned and watched the passing scenes beyond the passenger side window. Was she flirting? Was he?
Entering the cathedral, Claire and Tony blended into the groom’s guests. Claire couldn’t believe she was actually attending Caleb Simmons’ wedding. It had been a dream of hers since learning the date in a letter from Courtney while in prison. Glancing down at her hand resting comfortably in Tony’s, she thought about how long ago prison seemed. Never in a million years could she have predicted her current location, watching Courtney and Brent escorted down the aisle. Courtney looked beautiful in a mother-of-the-groom sunburst gown. Claire had heard all about it when Courtney first purchased it. Again, neither woman ever foresaw Claire seeing it in person.
As the ceremony progressed, Caleb appeared handsome and confident. Julia’s smile lit the entire cathedral. Her gown’s train flowed behind her as her father escorted her to the front of the church. Claire couldn’t help think about her own wedding. As the memories came, so did the tears. She dabbed her eyes while Tony gently squeezed her hand. Without thinking she leaned against his strong shoulder and accepted his unspoken support.
They sat with Tony’s friends during the reception. Claire was thankful Tony insisted on getting together prior to the wedding festivities. It made the reception much more comfortable. After the meal and cake, the music began. While the new Mr. and Mrs. Simmons danced, Tony and Claire watched from their seats. Again he held her hand. She wondered if he was thinking about their first dance as husband and wife. She remembered feeling like a princess in his arms. After the couple danced with Julia’s parents, Claire watched Caleb dance with Courtney and Julia with Brent. Claire couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Next the dance floor opened to the guests. When the music slowed Claire accepted Tony’s invitation and joined him under the soft lights. Perhaps it was their afternoon activities, but Claire’s body molded unconsciously to his. He directed their every step gracefully guiding her across the floor.
“I know I fought you about all of this,” she whispered, “but I’m so happy to be here right now.”
His embrace of her slender waist tightened, “I couldn’t be happier myself.” He leaned away to see her face, “And I hope you realize, this isn’t a charade.”
Claire pressed her lips together in a straight line. With all of her might she wanted to argue, but she couldn’t lie. Shaking her head from side to side, she admitted, “Right now, I know that.”
Tony pulled her close as the rest of the guests disappeared. Claire closed her eyes, felt the warmth of his embrace, and allowed her body to go wherever he led.
*****
It wasn’t difficult to access her laptop. A few different tries and her password was easily discovered. The information within was more than he could ever have imagined. Just recently he’d formed his own ideas about Anthony Rawlings being Anton Rawls, but now he had it in black and white. She had so much information about the Rawls family. Years ago he’d tried to do similar research, but everything came up a dead end. Why wouldn’t it? By 1990, the Rawls family ceased to exist.
According to Ms. Nichols fine research, Sharron died first of natural causes. There was very little information about her, especially during the last three years of her life. She didn’t even appear in any family photos. Nathaniel passed away in May of 1989, while incarcerated in a minimum security prison in New York. Next, yes, he liked this part: Samuel and Amanda died in a murder / suicide in Santa Monica, California. Why did Ms. Nichols have a question mark next to the murder / suicide? Obviously she questioned the accuracy of the assessment.
He often wondered how Anton got the police investigators to go along with that conclusion. Perhaps, he made the same bargain with them that he had with him. Ms. Nichols even had copies of police, ballistic, and autopsy reports. The scanned copy of the 911 call caught his attention. Apparently, Anton hadn’t been as thorough as he thought. This must have been how she and Harrison Baldwin found him. His name appeared on the report.
Smirking, Patrick Chester thought it funny; he’d actually thought Ms. Nichols was Anton’s daughter. Seeing her recently all over the internet, she wasn’t Anton’s (aka Anthony Rawlings) daughter; she was his ex-wife. According to the gossip people, they were working on reconciling. Patrick wondered if Mr. Anthony Rawlings had any idea of the wealth of information his ex-wife had accumulated against him.
Patrick considered the possibility of blackmailing Claire Nichols, too. But she wasn’t exactly living in the lap of luxury. Oh, her condominium was nice, in a very high priced part of town. She even kept affluent company. Amber McCoy, CEO of SiJo Gaming, was valued at quite a bit. Her brother, Harrison Baldwin, wasn’t hurting for cash either. Nevertheless, in comparison to Anthony Rawlings, they were paupers.
Why had Patrick accepted such measly annual supplements, when Anthony Rawlings could so easily afford more? Of course, it was because up until Ms. Nichols made an appearance at his home, he never suspected Anton Rawls of being the great Anthony Rawlings. The way Patrick saw it; he was due twenty plus years of back payments.
The missing information on Ms. Nichols laptop was about Samuel Rawls’ sister. Patrick didn’t even know her name; he never did. He just remembered Amanda Rawls referring to the woman as Samuel’s sister. Funny, as he scanned Ms. Nichol’s research, it didn’t even look like Samuel had a sister. That didn’t matter. For all the time, Anton – Anthony – had paid to keep the information about that woman hidden, she must be someone important. Patrick wondered if Mr. Rawlings would pay a bonus for keeping this information away from Claire Nichols. Seriously, what man wants his wife or ex-wife to learn he’s been paying to keep a secret about another woman?
Another picture just hit the internet. Wasn’t today’s technology wonderful? The photo was taken only minutes ago, via someone’s cellphone – amazing quality for a phone. The picture was of Anthony Rawlings and Claire Nichols dancing. They seemed very dressed up. The caption mentioned a wedding reception. Patrick Chester smiled. The sinister grin was truly too large for his face. He knew without a doubt, the real money was right there, in Mr. Rawlings’ arms. The mega-billionaire would gladly pay big, no huge, for the safe return of that woman. And to think he’d had her right on his property. If he’d only known what a gold mine she was the day she and Mr. Baldwin visited. That didn’t matter. Patrick knew now.
Searching the laptop he found her travel itinerary. Ms. Nichols’ flight was due back to San Francisco at 17:40:00, tomorrow. She had a first class ticket. That figures, Patrick thought. Well, her accommodations won’t be as luxurious once I get a hold of her.
*****
To: Anthony Rawlings
From: Phillip Roach
Date: June 8, 2013
Re: Ms. Nichols
I have confirmed with security at Ms. Nichol’s condominium, her unit was indeed breached. It was not until the perpetrator was leaving her unit that security devises indicated a violation. That means it is safe to assume, since her room was the only one manhandled, she was indeed the target. Until Ms. Nichols can confirm, the only item taken was her laptop.
According to the records of my indicators, the front door to her condo was opened Friday, June 7, at 8:15, the violation was noted when the door once again opened at 8:27 pm. Security cameras do not show a clear picture of the person in question. It appears to be a man who is bald or balding. I will increase my surveillance and report any suspicious activity.
Please confirm the time and place of her arrival. I know her reservations have been changed. I look forward to the new times and places. Thank you.
*****
The guests began to thin, when Tony suggested they head back to the estate. Claire hated leaving Courtney, Brent, and her other friends. She didn’t know when she would see them again. Of course, since she and Tony were in the midst of reconciliation, she couldn’t voice her concerns. Instead, she smiled politely and warmly offered her farewells.
Once they were alone in the seclusion of Tony’s car, Claire settled against the soft seat and thought fondly about her day. Her mind went from the breakfast on the patio, to driving Tony’s car, coffee with Sean and Sue, her return to the estate and their mutual physical admiration, poolside, the wedding, and finally the reception. Each scene filled her with hope, with promise of what could be.
These thoughts kept her from talking and overpowered her consciousness. She was mindlessly lost when Tony asked, “Have you spoken to anyone from Palo Alto lately?”
Her insides clenched with apprehension. She didn’t like discussing Harry and Amber with Tony. “I haven’t even looked at my phone since we left for the wedding. Why? Has something else happened?”
“Not to my knowledge. However, my source tells me the intruder to your unit was not interrupted. His only intention was to access your room and take your laptop.”
Her world of happiness and hope evaporated, “Why would anyone want my laptop?”
“What was on it?”
Claire considered the contents of her hard drive. “I don’t know, my bank accounts, my travel itinerary, information about your past, and a rough draft from Meredith about her bo... articles.”
Tony’s knuckles blanched as he gripped the stirring wheel. “I thought this stupid Meredith Banks thing was over?”
“It is. With the money you gave me, to give her – she’ll keep it quiet, unless, as you and I decided, something happens to me or someone I care about.”
After taking a deep breath Tony asked, “What do you have regarding my past?”
Claire sat straighter, “Seriously, I’ve spent so much time on this, it’s hard to condense it into an elevator pitch.”
With the eerie green of the dashboard, his black eyes transcended the darkness. “Give it a try. I’m sure you can do it.”
Claire inhaled, “Fine. I confirmed Nathaniel and Sharron Rawls had a son named Samuel. He married a woman named Amanda; they had a son name Anton, born February 12, 1965, the same day as you. That plus a picture in Newsweek showing your grandfather’s home confirmed to me that you are indeed Anton.”
“Well, you know that’s true. Why are you continuing this research?”
