Claire agreed to Evergreen’s terms in that she’d remain hidden and safe. During her conversation with Marcus, she didn’t mention she had assistance. The information didn’t seem relevant. In this high stakes poker game, Phil was her ace in the hole.

Claire appreciated Phil’s concern. His desires toward her had been acknowledged. She knew that she was more than a job to him. If circumstances were different, she might entertain the idea of reciprocation; however, he understood her stance. Her acceptance of his platonic affection was purely for her and her child’s safety. She’d promised Marcus Evergreen she’d remain temporarily under the radar, and in return, he’d keep Tony safe. Phil helped her fulfill her side of that agreement.

Ten days later…

Harry looked at the screen of his phone and his eyes grew wide. Glancing around the room, he saw Amber’s expression. No doubt, by his sudden change in demeanor, she knew something was up. He steadied his expression and nodded.

“Who is it?” Amber asked in a hushed tone as the rest of the room continued chatting.

Harry didn’t respond; instead, he stepped quickly from Amber’s kitchen and the collective ears present. Before he knew it, Harry was standing in Claire’s old bedroom and answering his phone, “Hello, this is Agent Baldwin.”

The call was not only a surprise, but an overwhelming relief. He listened carefully as Agent Williams, Special Agent in Charge of San Francisco FBI, explained the new turn of events: Claire Nichols was alive, safe, and hiding overseas. She’d personally contacted the Iowa City prosecutor who immediately informed the FBI. Even more interesting was the tale of deception Ms. Nichols spun to Mr. Evergreen. She claimed that though she’d left town because she feared for her safety, she now had reason to fear for the safety of Anthony Rawlings, and she emphasized—under no circumstances was she implicating her ex-husband of any wrongdoing.

With each word, the muscles in Harry’s shoulders relaxed. Up until that moment, he’d fooled himself into believing he wasn’t worried about Claire. From the second Harry hung up the telephone after the bizarre call from Anthony Rawlings, asking him if he knew where Claire had gone, he told himself, Claire made her own decisions. She’d put herself willingly in Rawlings’ sphere of influence and deserved to reap the consequences. Rawlings was responsible for her disappearance, either from his own doing or as a by-product of his wealth. Either way, it was no longer Harry’s concern. Besides, she was pregnant with Rawlings’ child.

Then, without warning, he’d remember her voice. For a split second, that time when the conscious mind wasn’t fast enough to stop the unconscious thoughts, he’d wonder what would’ve happened if the child was his. He’d see Claire’s picture flash across the television screen or hear Emily’s worried voice and the concern, he’d told himself Claire didn’t deserve, would flood his chest.

Listening to his supervisor, that concern now seeped out. Standing in Claire’s room, hearing that she was indeed safe and alive gave birth to tears of relief which trickled down his cheeks. Of course, Harry couldn’t let that emotion infiltrate his voice—hell, his attachment to his assignment was part of the reason he’d been relieved of his duties: their connection truly severed.

It was after Patrick Chester’s attack and after the news of possible fatherhood that SAC Williams personally placed Agent Harrison Baldwin on temporary leave. Williams claimed the publicity over Chester’s attack threatened to expose their long time operation. Permanent termination from the bureau was threatened during more than one conversation.

None of that mattered anymore, as Harry listened and the SAC briefed him on the new developments. When Williams emphasized Rawlings’ innocence, Harry could no longer hold his tongue. “I know what that bastard did to her in the past. Maybe she’s speaking under duress?”

SAC Williams replied, “I haven’t spoken to her directly, but Evergreen believes her.”

“Sure he does. This time, her testimony helps Rawlings. Evergreen’s a Rawlings pawn. When she had something to say against him, the damn prosecutor wouldn’t listen and spun everything against her.”

“Listen Baldwin, if the Deputy Director hadn’t specifically asked for you to be back on this case, it wouldn’t be happening. If you’re going to make this work, then you need to get your head straight.”

Harry nodded. Williams was right. If he were to help again and learn more about the secrets involving the Rawls’ vendetta, then he needed to think like an agent—not a boyfriend. “Yes, sir, I understand. I’m grateful to be allowed back on this case.”

“Be at our office tomorrow at 9:00 AM. You’re taking a trip.”

His chest burst with excitement. This was an opportunity he couldn’t afford to miss. “Sir, what about Rawlings? Where’s he?”

“He’s currently in FBI custody; although, I don’t anticipate that being the situation for long. We’ll discuss this more when you arrive.”

“I understand.” Harry continued, “Special Agent, if there is questioning of Rawlings to be done, I request to be involved.”

“I believe you were told Ms. Nichols cleared Mr. Rawlings of anything to do with her disappearance.”

Harry leaned against the wall and took in the empty room. Claire hadn’t lived there in almost three months. Her things had been packed and shipped, yet if he closed his eyes, he could see her face and hear her laugh. The scent of her favorite perfume lingered in the recesses of the room and lofted into his senses. He shook his head and tried to focus. “Yes, of course. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Agent, this goes without saying; however, I realize you’ve became close to Ms. Nichols’ family. This information is classified—no one else can know.”

Harry thought about the people in the kitchen: Amber, Keaton, John, Emily, and Liz. How could he possibly walk out there and not tell Claire’s sister that Claire was alive?

Harry swallowed hard. “Yes, sir, I understand. Thank you, Special Agent, for this opportunity.”

“Don’t blow it, Agent Baldwin. It may be your last chance.”

“I won’t, sir.”

After Harry disconnected the call, he walked into the attached bathroom. Looking at his reflection, he worked to subdue the smile that begged to fill his face. Finally, he gave in to the relief. Tears flooded his eyes, and his grin emerged as he whispered, “Thank you God. Thank you for keeping her safe. Just help me nail that son-of-a-bitch once and for all!”

I regret those times when I've chosen the dark side. I've wasted enough time not being happy.

—Jessica Lange

Tony made no attempt to subdue his glare. This ridiculous mockery had gone on for far too long. The walls of the small interrogation room were beginning to close in around him. He didn’t try to keep his volume in check as he addressed the FBI agent across the table, “Agent Jackson, I’ve been listening to you for hours and I’ve—”

Brent interrupted, “What my client is trying to say is—if you don’t plan on charging him with a crime, we’re leaving.”

Agent Jackson pulled out a binder of papers. It was surprising he could locate anything within the clutter of jumbled stacks upon the table. While Brent had more recently arrived, Tony had been sitting there for hours, listening as the FBI agents tag-teamed his interrogation. One would ask questions and then disappear. Moments later, another agent would enter the room and resume the inquisition. The barrage was taking its toll; between the throbbing in his head and the ache in his back, Tony was ready to leave the small room. He didn’t care how—he just wanted out.