Convicted (Consequences)

one to inform you of this disturbing news.”
    “Thank you, for taking the time.” Catherine closed the door and leaned against it. Taking in the grand stairs and large glistening foyer, a smile crept upon her face. She’d give this some time. Although, she wasn’t sure what that amount of time should be; nevertheless, when that acceptable mourning time was over, she’d meet with Mr. Simmons or Mr. Miller. Catherine remembered the legal documents she’d signed years ago naming her the executor of Anton’s estate. They would have been null-and-void if Anton had family—a wife or children, but he didn’t. He was divorced, and Claire was also missing, as was the child she claimed was his. That all worked together to make those documents now valid.
    Catherine’s smile grew as she made her way to his office. It was so nice of Marcus Evergreen to come all the way out to the estate to speak with her personally. She couldn’t have planned this better herself!
     

     
    The café was outside. After almost two weeks in Venice, Claire couldn’t stand to be held up inside their hotel suite another minute. Yes, the Hotel Danieli was stunning; nevertheless, Claire had experience at being held prisoner in beautiful places, and she needed air. If that meant more of the disguises, she’d do it. Sipping her warm tea, Claire leafed through the pictures one more time. The blue water and white sand reminded her of her honeymoon. The private island was amazing, but could it be home? She knew she needed to make a decision. Phil had been patient, but this was taking too long; even the two of them, being out in public made him uneasy. Claire knew he wanted an answer.
    “I’m not sure. I mean it reminds me of Fiji, but what about my baby? Is there medical care”—she added with emphasis—“ real medical care nearby?”
    “Yes, we discussed this. There’s a town a mere boat ride away. In that town there’s a UK educated doctor. If more extensive medical care is necessary, the town has an air field. You can afford the necessary flight. In less than two hours you can be at a state of the art facility with specialists.”
    Claire looked down. Maybe she wasn’t ready to make this move. She hadn’t checked the American news feed in a few days, honestly, she hadn’t checked anything. As the adrenaline from her escape waned, the hidden fortune and impending move seemed burdensome. Claire was tired of making wrong decisions.
    Phil leaned across the small table and covered her hand with his. The care and compassion she’d seen in his eyes was slowly turning to irritation. His voice was but a whisper in the din of conversation occurring on all sides of them. “Listen, it’s your choice and your money, but if you don’t make a decision soon, at the very least we need to leave Venice. I realize traveling is difficult for you; however, this is my job, to keep you safe—whether you accept it willingly or not.” His last phrase held a bit more determination than Claire appreciated.
    With the hairs on the back of her neck springing to attention, Claire’s lingering sadness at what she’d lost gave way to her new independence. Sitting straight, she removed her hand from his and said, “You’re doing your job because I’m paying you—very well—I might add. It is my decision and I’m sick and tired of making the wrong ones.”
    “Yes, you’re paying me and I’ve earned less for more. The fact remains, my job is to keep you safe”—his voice lowered again—“all the damn disguises in the world won’t keep you outside the radar on a public street in Venice. Despite the fact the FBI is probably looking for you, your ex-husband’s reward makes everyone a possible threat.”
    As Claire moved to stand, so did Phil.
    “Stop,” she declared.
    He lifted a brow.
    In a hushed but determined tone, she said, “I’m going for a walk. I don’t need a babysitter. I have my phone and I need to think. I’ll be back when I get back.” This time, she leaned toward him. “If you don’t respect my privacy, I’ll find another babysitter. I need a break.”
    She saw the turmoil in his eyes. She wasn’t just a job to him, he genuinely cared about her. Claire knew that; nevertheless, she needed to think. Walking helped her do that. When he didn’t respond, Claire nodded and turned away. Though the sky was clear, the temperature was brisk, especially with the breeze blowing between the buildings. Claire reasoned it had to do