Behind His Eyes - Convicted: The Missing Years (25 page)

Liz scoffed. “I get that, but how often are you
you
?”

Harry’s light blue eyes clouded. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, for most of your assignments don’t you have some kind of alias? I hope you do. I don’t want to go through something like we did—ever again.”

He remembered her terror after his attack. She handled it well at first, but there were nightmares and panic attacks that she tried to hide. Harry wrapped her in his strong arms. “Yes, you’re right. I’m not me on other assignments. All of my information is changed. There’s no way to get back to you, Jillian, Ilona, or Amber. You don’t need to worry.”

Liz laid her head against his chest and the scent of strawberries rose from her hair. “I don’t think about it that much.” Veiling her big blue eyes with lashes, she looked up at him. “I don’t. Forget that I mentioned it. My point was that John and Emily know
you
. They know us, and Amber. Don’t you think they deserve to know—”

“What? Don’t they deserve to know that my relationship with their sister was a job? I don’t see the reason to hurt them like that. They’re good people.”

“Maybe you’re right. Besides, they’ve moved away. It’s not like you have to see them as regularly as you did when they lived here.”

“Harry?” she asked shyly. “Can I ask you something?”

He could tell by her voice that it was something he didn’t want to be asked. “Go ahead, but if it’s about the job, I can’t promise that I can answer.”

“I don’t know if it’s the job or not. It’s about us.” When Harry didn’t respond, she went on. “Is there something you’re not telling me about Claire? You said she’s ill. I thought she was probably in jail. I figured with all of Anthony’s money, they’re keeping it covered up. I know Amber was pissed that she couldn’t find where he was charged with Simon’s death. I thought you were working on that—” Harry started to speak, but Liz went on. “—wait, I want to say this. I don’t even care anymore about you proving anything about Simon. I miss him, but I think Amber just needs to move on. I want to know if you really have. That’s my question.”

His brows knitted together. “What’s your question?”

“Have you really moved on? Do you not want the Vandersols to know that Claire was your assignment, because in reality she was more? Remember, I saw that picture of you two holding hands in Venice. Did you visit her in Iowa?”

“I went to Iowa with SAC Williams. I saw the Vandersols and spoke with them as friends, but I was there on behalf of the FBI. There’s another case related to Rawlings coming up soon. I will probably go back there again. Claire’s been gone from here for over a year. I’m getting sick of having her constantly thrown in my face. You and Amber are the ones who keep bringing her up, not me.” Harry’s words flowed, but he’d said them before, or some version of them. His mind zeroed in on the picture. Liz had mentioned it a long time ago, but it had never registered like it did now.

“Methinks he doth protest too much!”

She stood to walk away when Harry grabbed her arm. “Tell me again who showed you that picture.”

Pulling her arm away, Liz replied, “Hey, I’m not some criminal under interrogation! I told you before—Amber showed it to me. She knows what it’s like to have your boyfriend obsessed with someone else. After what happened, she didn’t want me setting myself up for another disappointment.” Her blue eyes pierced. “Is that what I’ve done, Harry? Are you just playing me? Rawlings is in prison. Maybe now is the time to make your move!”

He saw her anger, the way her cheeks flushed, and the tone of her voice, but his reaction was off. He wasn’t Harry Baldwin, boyfriend. He was Harrison Baldwin, FBI agent. “You’re overreacting. I have no intentions of making a move on Claire. She told me off the last time I spoke to her—and for the record that was in Venice. I told her I was FBI. She was pissed off.”

Tears coated Liz’s cheeks. “Y-you told her?”

“Yes, I told her the truth and she hates me.”

“W-why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Harry reached for her hand. After a moment of hesitation, she surrendered it to his tender grasp. “Because it is my job. I wasn’t in Venice to pursue a relationship with her. You and I were back together. I don’t want to fuck this up, again. I was there to protect her. I can’t tell you any more, other than that she told me to get lost.”

“So this is real. I don’t have to be afraid that you’ll go back to her? Wait…” She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “…why were you holding her hand?”

“It was a set-up. She didn’t know about the FBI, yet. I needed that picture to show Rawlings. I really shouldn’t be talking about this. Besides, it all blew up in my face.”

Liz wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “But you spoke with the Vandersols. They’ve been living here. They really don’t know the truth about you?”

Harry shook his head.

Liz continued, “I’m surprised. I mean, if I were going to move across the country to some remote place for my family, I’d expect that family to be honest with me. Why hasn’t Claire told them about you? I mean, who knows you like your family?”

Harry had heard that before. He replied, “I think their family has had a lot going on. I’m confident that the Vandersols are still in the dark.”

Sitting with his empty cup of coffee, Harry lifted his phone as Liz’s question reverberated through his mind.
Who knows you like your family?

He accessed his contacts and called the one man who may be able to put his mind at ease. SAC Williams answered on the second ring. “Yes, Agent? What can I help you with?”

“Sir, can I speak to you, in person?”

“Can this wait until Monday?”

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. SAC Williams couldn’t see his anguish, but Harry knew it was evident. “I really need to speak to you today.”

“All right, son, I can be at the office in an hour.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you then.” Harry hung up the phone and stared at the empty cup. In the middle of the café filled with people, he prayed:
Please God, let me be wrong
.

The FBI didn’t stop for weekends, yet depending on the caseload and schedule, many agents had the luxury of the occasional weekend off. Therefore, the San Francisco field office wasn’t as busy as it was during the week. Harry made his way to SAC Williams’ office. One rap on the door and he heard Williams’ voice.

“Come in.”

As Agent Baldwin entered, he said, “Thank you, sir, for taking the time to see me.”

Williams’ forehead stretched. “What is it, son? You sound different.”

“May I sit, sir?”

Williams stood and walked around his desk, motioned to one of the chairs, and seated himself in the one beside it. As Harry sat down, Williams said, “You’re being way too formal. I’d think you were a new recruit if I didn’t know better. What’s happening?”

“It’s about the Rawlings—”

Williams’ expression of concern morphed to agitation. “How many ways do I need to tell you that it’s over—”

“No, sir, I don’t think it is.”

“Agent—”

Harry interrupted again, “It isn’t about him, per se. SAC, do you remember when I was attacked? When they took Liz and threatened Jillian?”

Williams relaxed against the chair. “Yes. Did you remember something new?”

Harry shook his head. “What happened to my phone?”

“I believe it was recovered but it was unusable. The perpetrators destroyed it.”

“But you got all the pieces?”

“Yes, the lab was able to access all your data.”

“This is very important.” Harry moved to the edge of his chair. “Was the SD card found?”

“I don’t remember, but now that you ask, I remember your being concerned about that. There was a picture, right?”

“Right,” Harry agreed. “There was a picture that I took with the intention of showing it to Rawlings. I had a plan that obviously didn’t work, but in the picture I was holding Claire Nichol’s hand. SAC, did the bureau get that SD card? Does the FBI have that picture?”

Williams shook his head. “Not to my knowledge. After what happened before between you and Mrs. Rawlings, I’m sure that if it would have materialized, the deputy director would have brought it to my attention.”

Harry closed his eyes and fell back against the chair. With a shaky voice, he asked, “What do you believe happened to my SD card—based on what I’ve told you and what the FBI found?”

Williams shrugged. “I could say that the FBI missed it at the scene, but honestly, I doubt that. The area was swept clean more than once. You’re one of us. We take the attack on you, as well as the threat to your daughter and ex-wife, very seriously. More than likely, I’d assume that the perpetrators took it. Who knows, maybe it was to be used as blackmail, but if you haven’t heard anything yet…”

The rush of blood caused his ears to ring. Harry could no longer hear his supervisor. There was no other explanation. The words kept repeating:
No one knows you like family—everyone has a past
. It all pointed to one person:
his
sister
. Could she have been the one to have him and Liz attacked? How else could she have gotten that picture? Who else would have known about Jillian?

Oh God! Harry’s chest hurt.

Why? Why would Amber have done that to him?

Harry finally stilled the voices long enough to speak above their din. “Sir, I have a theory, one that I’d like the bureau to disprove.”

If you don’t like something, change it. If you can’t change it, change your attitude.

—Maya Angelou

John made his way toward the courthouse for the third day of Catherine London’s grand jury trial. The grand jury was still hearing testimony and debating the evidence. It wasn’t their job to determine guilt or innocence, only if there was enough evidence for Catherine to stand trial. Since all grand jury proceedings were done in private, this was the one phase that the Rawlings Industries’ legal team didn’t need to fight to keep away from the press. However, there were many other probable sources of bad exposure. To that end, the Rawlings’ legal team, with the help of their newest member, had been successful in limiting the release of information during the preliminary phase. That didn’t stop the crowds of people from lining the cold steps of the US District Courthouse in Cedar Rapids. Many of the onlookers were hoping to get a glimpse of Anthony Rawlings. Though it was only speculation, if he were to be subpoenaed, the reporters didn’t want to miss his arrival.

Since the list of possible witnesses wasn’t public, John wasn’t sure if Anthony would be asked to testify or not. He did know that it was one thing to indirectly work for his brother-in-law, but John wasn’t sure he was ready to see him and look him in the eye. The decision to take the job at Rawlings Industries had not been made lightly. John and Emily spent many hours and days discussing the pros and the cons. Without a doubt, Tim timed the offer perfectly. First, there was Emily’s desire to stay close to Claire and the court’s decision that kept her in Iowa. Then there was the salary. Tim’s offer made Anthony’s proposal from four years ago look like minimum wage. And while those reasons were enticing, it was the possibility of helping Claire and Nichol, helping to secure their financial future and the future of Nichol’s legacy that truly sold John. Well, that and Tim.

Tim Bronson, the acting CEO of Rawlings Industries, was one of the most upfront and honest CEO’s that John had ever met. They’d met socially years ago, but time and responsibility had not only matured, but also added confidence and charisma to Tim’s demeanor. Despite all of the problems that Rawlings Industries was having with Anthony’s private life, Tim was steadfast and confident in the company and its future. Truly, John was impressed from the first lunch. Tim didn’t beat around the bush or try to avoid the giant elephant in the room. No, Tim laid it on the line.

Standing and extending his hand as John approached him at the restaurant where they met, Tim said, “John, thank you for meeting with me. I know this isn’t a good time. I also know that you’ll be leaving town again soon, and I so wanted to discuss this offer with you in person before you did.”