Behind His Eyes: Truth
Page 52“Others?”
“Yes, Tony—friends. Harry called. I spoke to him and then to Amber. They’re both well, thank you for asking.”
All right, so he’d never given them any thought. Why would he? Roach had said it happened when Amber wasn’t home. That still didn’t explain her indifference: this was serious. “Why aren’t you more upset?”
“I was initially, but now I think you’re responsible.”
It was his turn to respond with indignation. “Claire, why would I have someone break into your condo?”
“I don’t know, but 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.” She spoke as though she’d just told him that she had recipes on her hard drive, not secrets he’d worked diligently to keep buried.
“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, then perhaps you’d like to learn who has it.”
“I’ll 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.”
First, her damn detective work and now her brazen pursuit of a subject he didn’t want to broach. Tony leaned forward. “Claire, are you asking? I’m having difficulty with your wording.”
“Are we in the presence of others?” She dramatically turned from her right to her left and lowered her tone. “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.”
He pressed his lips together. “Claire, that’s ridiculous, I’d never accuse you of stealing—”
“No, just attempted murder,” she interrupted. “I’d rather avoid repeating that history.”
She didn’t miss a beat. “Tony, it happened. I told you that I’m not going back. I’m not going to a time and place of unapproachable subjects or closed conversations. If you want this charade to continue, and if it has a snowball’s chance in hell of being something more, you’ll be open and honest.”
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. “Please, by all means, take whichever car you’d like. If you plan on driving yourself, I recommend you avoid the limousine and the Lexus LFA.” He watched as she slowly shook her head. “Not because of their price, I don’t give a damn about that; however, they require a little more behind-the-wheel experience.”
“Thank you, I hardly want to drive a limousine by myself or your Batmobile—a simple car will do.”
“Batmobile?” His brows arched. Claire giggled and the tension eased from his shoulders. Giving her everything she rightfully deserved and desired wouldn’t be easy. It would be a continued battle, but somehow they’d stopped this conversation from becoming a total disaster.
“That was what I thought it looked like when I first saw it.”
“Hmmm,” he mused. “If my memory serves me right, that would make you Catwoman, and if you’re willing to try on the suit,” he said slyly, raising his brow, “then I’ll wear a cape?”
Claire shook her head. “I will take that as a yes, on borrowing a car?”
Her expression turned quizzical. “Only if Batman wore pointed ears.”
His laugh reverberated over the expanse of their back yard.
During Tony’s unpleasant conversation with Mr. George, he glanced at the clock. The wedding wasn’t until 5:30 PM and it wasn’t even noon. Nevertheless, he had no idea when Claire would return. After he’d told Catherine where she’d gone, Catherine recommended sending Eric to watch her and be sure of her return. Tony refused. Obviously, Claire would recognize Eric and know who sent him. No. Tony decided he would do what they’d promised: he would trust in her return.
Mr. George’s broken phrases came through Tony’s phone. “I’m sorry.” “She was supposed to let me know.” “I’ve tried.”
Tony was done with the conversation. “As you know, my original directive was two days ago. I wanted an answer yesterday. Your incompetence is…” Tony’s speech stalled. A knock and simultaneous opening of his office door caused him to turn. He expected to see Catherine and glared at the interruption. That quickly changed to shock, when he saw that Claire was the one who’d entered. There was a time when she was not allowed to enter his office without his permission. Obviously, Claire was now playing by her own rules. He stifled the chuckle that threatened Mr. George’s verbal lashing. Unable to contain the grin, Tony kept his gaze fixed on his ex-wife and continued his tirade. “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.” Tony disconnected the line.