“No! I’m not all right! Where is Mrs. Rawlings’ portrait?” He’d paid a fortune to have that portrait commissioned. He’d purposely had it painted by Sophia Rossi. No, not Rossi—Burke, and now it was gone!
“Sir, Catherine had it removed. She believed that you wouldn’t—”
“I don’t care what she believed! Where is it?”
“Sir, I-I don’t know?”
“Where is Catherine?”
Suddenly, Catherine appeared, hurrying in from the hall. “Cindy, I’ll help Mr. Rawlings. Thank you.”
Cindy looked to Tony and waited. When he nodded, she turned away.
Catherine’s voice tried to reassure. “Mr. Rawlings, you are supposed to rest.”
He waited until Cindy left the room. “Where the fuck is the picture?”
“I thought that you—”
He glared. “I didn’t ask you what you thought. I don’t care what you think! Tell me where the fuck the painting is!”
Catherine’s shoulders squared. “It’s in her suite.”
Tony closed his eyes and exhaled. Reestablishing his glare, he spoke slowly. “Don’t you fuck’n touch any of her things. Don’t make any damn assumptions about what I want and what I don’t want. This isn’t negotiable. Her things belong to me. Only I will decide what happens to them. I don’t want to have this conversation again—ever. Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir.” He heard the contempt in Catherine’s voice, and at that moment Tony didn’t give a damn.
“Have the portrait moved to my suite and hung over my fireplace. It’ll stay there until I decide. Clear?”
“Yes, sir.” He turned on his heel and stepped deliberately from the sitting room. Fighting the urge to go up to Claire’s suite, Tony went to his office and contemplated his most recent revelation. If the state of Iowa wouldn’t allow him to decide Claire’s fate, then his most recent idea could. He called Brent.
Brent picked up on the third ring. “Yes, Tony?”
“What if she’s insane?”
“Excuse me?”
“I told you that she’d been acting more and more detached since Johnson died. What if she lost it?”
Brent waited and then he said, “Evergreen said she’s been very quiet, not saying much of anything.”
Tony smiled. This could work! “If she pleads insanity, what could happen? Can we avoid the trial?”
“Let me look into it,” Brent replied. “Do you want the state to sentence her to an institution?”
“No!” Tony’s answer came too fast. “I want to pay for it. There’s no sense having the people of Iowa pay her expenses.”
“And when … if … she gets better?” Brent asked.
“We’ll cross that bridge, but if I’m paying, it should be my decision.” Everything about her had been his decision, even before she knew his name. He wasn’t losing that control now.
“Tony, I’ll investigate and get back to you. Evergreen said there’s a preexamination scheduled for the day after tomorrow.”
“I should be there.”
“That isn’t the customary practice.”
“I don’t give a shit what’s customary. You investigate the insanity plea and I’ll call Evergreen.”
Tony didn’t wait for Brent’s answer before he hit: DISCONNECT.
Tony had Judge Reynolds’ written decision in the breast pocket of his jacket. He didn’t care if Evergreen didn’t want him at this preexamination. Tony wanted Claire to plead insanity, and he needed to tell her. Honestly, he didn’t expect any resistance from her or her counsel. Evergreen had said she received court-appointed attorneys, and apparently her draw hadn’t been the best. Paul Task was fresh out of law school, had recently passed the bar, and was still wet behind the ears. His co-counsel was Jane Allyson. She’d spent a few years in the defender’s office before and during law school. Evergreen said she was tenacious, but unestablished and unknown.
As Tony entered the hallway of conference rooms in the courthouse complex attached to the Iowa City jail, he was met by multiple law-enforcement officers. No one questioned his presence or commented about his wife’s behavior. Everyone greeted him as if he were a long-lost friend. “Hello, Mr. Rawlings.” “It’s nice to see you, Mr. Rawlings.” “Can I help you, Mr. Rawlings?”
It didn’t take him long to find the conference room occupied by Evergreen and his team, as well as Claire and her legal team. There was a small window in the door. As soon as he looked in, he saw her. She looked so small and frail sitting at the cluttered table flanked by her incompetent counsel. Taking a deep breath, and remembering the pain of his broken ribs, he opened the door. The room, which had been full of murmuring, went silent. It was Marcus who finally stood and approached. “Mr. Rawlings, I thought we discussed this, and you weren’t to attend this conference.”
“Mr. Evergreen.” Tony forced himself to look at the prosecutor as they shook hands. Every instinct in his body wanted to look at his wife. Feeling the green of her eyes penetrating his facade, he pushed on. “I appreciate everyone’s concern for my safety. I’ll repeat what I told Judge Reynolds. I don’t believe my wife is a threat to my well-being. I believe if we can have a few moments alone, we can save the taxpayers of Iowa the cost of a lengthy trial, and this court, some time. Judge Reynolds has agreed to my request.”