Claire smiled, “Yes, Madeline, thank you, but please, no food...I’m not hungry.”

“No, Madame el, you must eat. I’ll bring you muffins and fresh fruit.”

Claire shook her head—arguing would be pointless. She settled into the cushioned lounge chair, elevated her feet, turned on her iPad, and waited for the daily news to load. It wasn’t the first story to appear on her homepage, but her own picture immediately caught Claire’s attention. She clicked and read the title:

Family Files Charges against Iowa City Police Department, Prosecutor, and Anthony Rawlings.

Shaking her head, Claire read:

Associated Press—John and Emily Vandersol have filed formal charges against the Iowa City Police Department, Marcus Evergreen, I.C. Prosecutor, and Anthony Rawlings (in absentia).

Mr. and Mrs. Vandersol have requested a hearing based on evidence discovered at the home of Anthony Rawlings. The request states the evidence, currently undisclosed, is sufficient to establish probable cause against Anthony Rawlings. The Vandersols also charge Mr. Rawlings with extortion. “Anyone else would be sitting in jail. It’s only because of his wealth and influence that ICPD and Mr. Evergreen have not filed charges. Their delay is corruption.” (Another of the many charges listed). The Vandersols claim the prosecutor and police department worked together to protect Anthony Rawlings. In doing so, the ICPD jeopardized the investigation of Ms. Claire Nichols’ disappearance. Mrs. Vandersol also charged Mr. Rawlings (in absentia) with the disappearance and possible death of her unborn niece or nephew.

Claire’s hand rubbed her very large midsection. Now in her thirty-fifth week, she smiled, knowing that no harm had come to her unborn child. She honestly didn’t believe that would be the case if she’d remained at Catherine’s disposal. She continued reading:

Ms. Nichols was last seen September 4, 2013. Mr. Anthony Rawlings disappeared after his private plane made an emergency landing in the Appalachian Mountains, September 21, 2013. The FBI will not confirm or deny the survival of Mr. Rawlings following this incident. The FBI refused additional comments claiming an ongoing investigation. Currently, no charges have been filed.

Rawlings Industries is currently operating with a temporary CEO and the same Board of Directors. It has been speculated that the pending charges will force the SEC to investigate Rawlings Industries. Since September the share price has dropped from $142.37 to $86.84 at last call.

Despite her reading material, when Claire realized she’d eaten all of Madeline’s food, a smile appeared on her face. Madeline’s voice came above the sound of surf. “Madame el, may I get you more tea or perhaps some water?”

“Madeline, I’d love some water. It’s getting hotter by the minute.”

“Then perhaps you should be in the water?” Her husband’s rich, husky voice came from behind. She couldn’t see the handsome source, yet instantaneously her neck tensed and goose bumps appeared on her arms and legs. It amazed Claire how something as benign as a voice could continue to incite such a visceral response.

Madeline saw Claire’s reaction and laughed, which in turn, made Claire giggle. Claire loved Madeline’s laugh, so deep and rich, just like her voice. “Madame el, I will bring you some water, and Monsieur?”

“Madeline, I’d like some coffee, please.” Tony bowed toward the woman.

Laughing at his gesture, Madeline replied, “Why, of course. I’ll bring it out soon.” With that, she disappeared, leaving the lady and gentleman of the house alone.

Tony reached for Claire’s shoulders and gently massaged. Closing her eyes, she sighed momentarily lost in his touch. His lips unexpectedly met her exposed neck, causing goose bumps to erupt up and down her arms and legs. His baritone voice brought her back to reality. “My dear, your shoulders are tense. You saw it, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

He nuzzled her neck. “I had hoped to make it home before you did.”

“Because”—she paused—“you wanted to stop me from seeing it?”

Still massaging her shoulders, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “No, I wanted to be here, while you read it.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “I just wish John and Emily would back off—it’s hurting Rawlings Industries.”

“We’ll be alright.”

She inhaled. “I know. I understand their ignorance is best, but I can still wish for Iowa.”

He came around in front of her, sat on the lounge chair near her tanned, shapely legs and caressed the silky skin of her thighs. “We’ll get there again—I promise. First, we have a little one who needs to join us.”