After trying so long for her to accept his proposal, the addition of a stipulation surprised Claire. “Yes?” she asked tentatively.

“I don’t want to have to track it down again. Do not sell it, give it away, or leave it any place but on your beautiful finger.” It was one of those non-debatable statements.

Nodding with a seductive smile, Claire whispered, “I promise.” She sealed the deal with a lingering kiss.

She couldn’t leave the ring behind.

Three days later...

Tony stared at the monitors in his office. The large screen was sub-divided into many smaller screens. At the top was a live feed from outside his office door. He didn’t want intruders. Below were multiple smaller screens changing constantly with various locations on the estate. The bulk of the screen held two videos. He controlled the speed and sound of each one. On the left he saw Claire in his garages, rushing to the key cabinet and removing the key to a Mercedes Benz. In the lower right corner the date read: 01/17/12. On the right was the video of Claire walking casually to the key cabinet which no longer held a lock. He watched as she removed the keys to a BMW and calmly walked toward the car. The date in the lower right corner read: 09/04/13. Repeatedly, he paused the action and scrutinized the scenes. With all his might he tried to read Claire’s facial expressions.

In twenty twelve, he saw fear as Claire looked nervously all about her. On the video recorded only days earlier, Tony wondered what he saw. No, he knew her look; it was a mask of steely determination. What he didn’t know was the emotion hidden underneath.

The police also saw the twenty thirteen video. They believed it proved she left of her own free will. But if that were true, wouldn’t she have taken more belongings? Wouldn’t she have taken more money? She had access. She had credit cards and an ATM card... yet they were all found in an Illinois hotel.

At nearly two in the morning, Tony was all alone. The various screens displaying the estate were devoid of people. Everyone was fast asleep. Even the crickets outside his open windows knew to leave him in silence. Yet, with no one to hear, he spoke the question he’d been wrestling with for days, “Why, Claire? Why?” In one gulp he downed the amber liquid from the crystal tumbler. Though the rich Glen Garioch Whiskey went down smoothly, it didn’t ease the ache in his head or the pain in his chest.

His facade of the last few days successfully drained his strength. Tony knew he needed sleep, but how could he sleep in their bed? He couldn’t even stand to enter their room or see the unfinished nursery. It was the not knowing that hurt the most. If he knew she was safe. If he knew she did this of her own free will... but he didn’t know. Last time -- in 2012 -- he knew. And the pain he’d put her through back then added to his current torment.

In the past few days he’d spent untold amounts of money, had private and public agencies search every inch of Iowa, the surrounding states, country – damn -- the world. There were plenty of tips... a large reward will bring those. Yet, none paid off. How could Claire evaporate into thin air?

The BMW was thoroughly searched by Iowa’s top CSI. Only her finger prints, Clay’s, Eric’s, and his were discovered... but no unknown clues.

During the last three days he’d hardly left the confines of his home office. Entering the attached bath, he saw his almost unrecognizable reflection in the mirror. His facial hair had never been so long. Rubbing his hands through the now soft stubble, he stared into his own eyes. For the first time in his life he’d dared to believe in happily-ever-after. He learned at a young age it was unattainable. Therefore, he’d never even tried... until Claire. And somehow, for a few short months, it was at his fingertips. The wealth, homes, and appearance of stability and sanity... all meant nothing when he saw the pictures of Claire with Harry. Tony couldn’t be at that damn gala and know she was there with him. Hell, Tony didn’t even know about their baby. He just knew, for the first time in his life, Anthony Rawlings would risk public scrutiny to have what he wanted most. What mattered to him above anything else... the problem was making her realize it.

Tony turned off the screens of his computer and lay on the soft leather sofa. His mind went back to two thousand ten and eleven. On this very couch... on this luxurious carpet... he smiled... on his desk... there was hardly a place they hadn’t been together. Damn, they’d been great. Despite the happy memories, the twisting in his heart tightened. The things he’d done to her -- the regret was almost paralyzing.

Then somehow in this totally screwed up world -- when all was said and done -- she’d taken him back.

The pounding in his head brought moisture to his eyes. His words were barely audible. That was all right; they weren’t intended for anyone except the woman who wasn’t there. “I’m so sorry... for everything... why? ... why did you leave me?” As the tears coated his cheeks he told himself, Anthony Rawlings doesn’t cry. He doesn’t apologize, and he doesn’t cry...

*****

Once settled in Florence, Isabelle utilized an Internet Cafe to surf the web and learn the latest news happening back in Iowa. The face of Claire Nichols appeared in multiple thumbnails. She scrolled over the pictures which looked nothing like the blue-eyed woman with short dark hair staring at the monitor.

Different titles appeared: Missing - Day Three, Reward Offered, Ex-Husband “Person of Interest”, and Vanished – Memoirs left behind.

Claire read each article scrutinizing every detail. The first article spoke analytically about Claire’s disappearance. It described the incident where her car was attacked by another car, how that evening she went for a drive and never returned. The article highlighted photos of her and Tony at recent events. It even showed a recent photo of them out to eat. Claire tried to see the restaurant. She was pretty sure it was in Chicago and on her left hand she could see her engagement ring.