Since last fall, her husband had been busy becoming re-acclimated to Rawlings Industries. His two-year absence from the daily operations of his multiple corporations and financial endeavors required quite a bit of catching up. Even so, whenever possible, Tony chose to work from home. His devotion and commitment to plunge back into his life was not limited to Rawlings Industries. Tony wanted to spend as much time as possible at home with his wife and daughter. That was why, when faced with a full return to Rawlings Industries, he decided to share the CEO position with Tim Bronson. Tim had handled things exceptionally well in Tony’s absence; it only seemed right to keep him involved.

With Nichol and Shannon playing upstairs, Claire settled into her plush desk chair and took on the two weeks’ accumulation of mail. Before she could make a dent, there was a knock on the door. Giggling to herself, Claire thought, it wasn’t Nichol: she didn’t knock. It was just another of her many father-like traits. “Come in,” she called, expecting Shannon.

“Claire…” Phil’s voice caused Claire to look up. “…I wanted to catch you before you went through the mail. I was just told that today’s delivery was brought in here before I could go through it.”

Phil wasn’t only Claire’s bodyguard and head of the estate’s security: he was also her friend. With their long history, Claire recognized something in his tone that filled her with a sense of foreboding.

“Why?” she asked. “We haven’t received any more threatening letters or packages since before the trip. Have we?”

Phil pressed his lips together. Golden flecks glistened in the hazel eyes that peered knowingly at her through squinted lids. With a furrowed brow, he replied, “I would’ve thought you knew. Haven’t you spoken to Rawlings? He said he was going to tell you.”

Claire thought back to their time alone since coming home. It had only been one day, and honestly, last night there was very little talking. She worked to keep the blush from her cheeks as she remembered just how little talking they’d done the night before. Prior to that, they’d both been too busy doing other things or with Nichol. Discussions about the threatening mailings they’d received didn’t exactly seem like good family-dinner conversation. “I’ve spoken with him, but I guess we didn’t get a chance to talk about it, and he was gone this morning before I woke.”

Phil took a deep breath and motioned toward one of the chairs opposite Claire’s desk. “Do you mind?”

Straightening her shoulders, Claire shook her head. “I don’t mind your taking a seat. I’m a little nervous that you think this conversation requires that.” She feigned a smile. “Or maybe you just want to catch up? Tell me that’s all it is. I’ll have some coffee brought in and we can chat.”

Phil shook his head. “Catching up sounds nice, but I have a lot to do right now. First thing after our chat, I need to go through that stack of mail—”

Claire leaned forward on her desk, and interrupted, “Fine, tell me. Tell me why you are concerned, and don’t tell me you aren’t. I hear it in your voice.”

“Claire, I’m sure Rawlings wanted to be the one to tell you. I’ll just take a quick look at that stack and leave you alone.”

Claire eyed the large pile of letters. Most were regular sized; a few were larger. There were a couple of thicker envelopes. Squaring her shoulders she turned back. “Phil, the packages that we’ve received in the past have been addressed to me, or to Claire Nichols-Rawls, so I deserve to know what else has been delivered. I deserve to know what progress has been made. Just because Tony hasn’t mentioned it—yet—doesn’t negate my right to know. Besides,” she added with a grin, “I thought you worked for me.”

His shoulders relaxed as he exhaled. “You know I do.”

Her emerald eyes sparkled, knowing she’d won. “Then tell me.”

Claire watched the deliberation he wasn’t voicing as Phil shifted slightly in his seat. Each second of silence added to her concern. Finally, he spoke. “You see, we’ve talked about it. I just don’t want to upset you, not after everything you’ve been—”

“Stop,” she said softly. “I’m not going to break. I’ll admit, I came close, but it won’t happen. Truly, Phil, I’m good. Not knowing scares me more than knowing. I honestly don’t think that Tony intended to keep whatever this was from me. By the time we had a chance for some privacy last night, well, we were both exhausted. I mean, we all were and still are. We’ve only been home a little over twenty-four hours.”

She pushed her chair back and stood, motioning toward the mail. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll go get some coffee. You knock yourself out with the mail, but first, tell me about the last threatening mailing we received and what you know.”

Phil nodded. “It came here, to the estate, while we were all in the South Pacific. Eric and I knew about it right away. We didn’t say anything until after the FBI finished their tests. It was clean: no explosives, no chemicals.”

Claire pondered. “While we were gone? When did you tell Tony?”

“After we had the results.”

“Phil, when did you tell Tony?” She emphasized the word.

It was one thing for Tony not to mention it if he’d only learned about it yesterday. It was quite another thing if he’d known about it longer—a lot longer.