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?”

“I really don’t want to discuss this... please?”

“Despite your suspicions, I had nothing to do with the break-in. I need to know what the perpetrator now knows.”

“My computer is password protected. No one besides me can access it.”

Tony’s ambivalent expression spoke volumes regarding her secure laptop.

Finally she said, “Obviously you disagree. If someone is able to access my information, there are documents and reports from your parents’ death.”

For a moment, Claire feared their future. Tony seemed unable to peer forward although the Mercedes cruised that direction at unknown speeds. His eyes bore into her soul. “What possible business of yours is my parents’ death?”

Claire straightened defiantly, “I suppose before it was morbid curiosity. I wanted to know if you were truly capable of hurting your own parents. Now – however –” she hesitated and sat straighter, defiantly, “now it is very much my business. I need to know about my child’s family history.”

The tenseness in Tony’s strong shoulders eased. “I suppose that’s correct.” In a moonlit glow, the countryside continued to pass outside the windows. Tony confessed, “I did not harm my parents.”

Claire reached for him, covering his hand with the warmth of hers, “I know that now. I’ve known for a while it wasn’t you; it was a woman in a blue Honda.” Claire felt the atmosphere within the car tighten. She went on, “Whoever that woman is – you have been protecting her for years.”

“Protecting her?”

“Yes, whoever she is, you’ve kept her secret secure.”