“Thank you, I would like some water.” Then she waited some more. The next time the door opened she looked toward the table. Enough time had passed, this had to be Tony.

“Mrs. Rawlings, I am Sergeant Miles and this,” pointing to the man on his left, “is FBI Agent Ferguson.”

“Hello. I am confused, why is an FBI agent here?”

“We would like to ask you some questions about today.” Claire nodded. “Ma’am, you must speak. Our conversation is recorded and movements can’t be heard on an audiotape.” Claire hated recordings, audio or visual.

“Yes, please go ahead and ask me anything. I was just driving my husband’s car and forgot my driver’s license.”

“Ma’am, what time did you leave your residence outside of Iowa City?” Agent Ferguson asked as Sergeant Miles took notes.

Claire wondered if the audio recording wasn’t thorough enough. “I left at eleven fifteen AM.” That was easy, she’d looked at the dashboard clock.

“Did you see your husband before you left?”

“Do you mean did I ask my husband if I could leave? No.”

“No, ma’am, I meant what I said. Did you see your husband before you left your residence?”

“Yes, I saw him just before eleven. He was in his office about to start a web conference.”

“A web conference?” Sargent Miles asked.

“It is a conference that is live on the Internet, you know, on the ‘web.’” The officers continued to ask questions about times and people. Claire told them the house staff was all present, except for their driver, Eric. He left before her, going to Mr. Rawlings’s office to retrieve some paperwork for her husband. Had Claire told anyone she was leaving the house? She shook her head no, then remembering, answered, “No.” Why would she drive over five hours without her purse or telling anyone where she was going? She really didn’t have a good answer. She couldn’t tell them she didn’t have access to her own ID and she wasn’t allowed to go out by herself. If she did, she would be breaking his rules and when Tony arrived he would be livid. Suddenly, she realized he was probably watching from behind a window right now. She felt her stomach twist.

Her only choice was ignorance. “I don’t know. The sky was so pretty and Iowa can get so gray. I guess I just wanted to go somewhere warmer.”

“Mrs. Rawlings, you should know your husband will survive.” Agent Ferguson’s tone was flat.

Claire didn’t understand, survive? Like he would crumble because she left him? “I’m not sure what you mean. Why wouldn’t he survive?”

“Mrs. Rawlings, someone tried to kill your husband today. He was poisoned at approximately eleven fifteen this morning.” Agent Ferguson answered as Sergeant Miles observed Claire.

She shook her head, trying to make sense of his words. But they didn’t make sense. Tony was fine when she left, same as always. “You are mistaken. Mr. Rawlings had a web conference at eleven, where he was speaking with many people from his corporation.” Her speech quickened as did her heart rate.

“Yes, he was supposed to be. However, after the web conference began, his associates witnessed him take a drink from a mug and suddenly slump to his side. Many of the viewers attempted to reach him via cell phone, but he didn’t move. Luckily, one of the house staff heard the phones ringing and entered the office. They were able to fly him by helicopter to a hospital in Iowa City. His vitals are good, although he has yet to regain consciousness. The doctors believe he will make a full recovery. I am here representing the FBI because this is an attempted murder investigation which has crossed state lines.” Agent Ferguson spoke as if he was addressing a suspect.

“I need to get to him immediately.” Claire stood as she spoke. Sergeant Miles directed her back toward the chair. She was dumbfounded. “I’m sorry, are you accusing me of murdering my husband?”

“No, ma’am. Your husband wasn’t murdered. You are being questioned regarding an attempted murder investigation.”

She was stunned. “You are accusing me of hurting him? You should know no one hurts Anthony Rawlings. If anything he has hurt me, numerous times.”

“So are you claiming self-defense?”

Claire’s neck stiffened and her voice became defiant. “I’m not claiming anything. I did nothing that needs claiming.”

“Mrs. Rawlings, do you have any idea what was in the mug that your husband drank from?” She knew exactly what was in that mug: coffee, made by her.

“Yes, officer. I would assume that the mug contained coffee. Just before I left, I took him a cup of coffee.” Her stomach was now a tangle of knots.

“You and your husband don’t have household servants that usually prepare the food and drinks?”

“We do. But he asked me to get him coffee.” Claire definitely didn’t like how this was going. “I believe I need an attorney.”

“Ma’am, you haven’t yet been charged. However, asking for representation is your right. Be aware that your husband’s legal staff has sent word that representing you would be a conflict of interest. You will need to secure your own counsel.”

“I would like to call John Vandersol, my brother-in-law.” As the words left her mouth she remembered, “No, wait. I can’t.”

Another officer entered the room and began to talk with Sergeant Miles. After the two whispered, Miles spoke. “Mrs. Claire Rawlings, my commanding officer has informed me that the prosecuting attorney of Iowa City believes there is enough circumstantial evidence to hold you in this facility overnight and transport you back to Iowa City in the morning. The chief prosecutor of Iowa believes he will have an official warrant for your arrest signed by the judge by the time you arrive.”

Claire heard the words but couldn’t comprehend their meaning. Her internal voice tried to replay the day: I dressed in what I was told, was in Tony’s office at the time he told me to be, and asked like a five-year-old if I could go outside. This morning I poured my husband a cup of coffee, the coffee he asked me to get. Now I am about to be charged with attempted murder?

Another officer directed Claire to a cell. It was small, clean, and had a door that locked. She couldn’t sleep. She worried about Tony. There was no one at home that morning except them and the regular staff. Everyone had been with Tony for years and he implicitly trusted them. None of them would hurt him. She worried, had he regained consciousness? Was the poison in the coffee in the pot? Maybe it was in the cream? She wanted them to try to find the real criminal before he tried to hurt Tony again. Claire knew when he regained consciousness he would tell them she didn’t, couldn’t do this, and take her home.

  No one can make you feel inferior without your permission. —Eleanor Roosevelt

 Chapter 48

Yesterday Claire drove in a luxurious Mercedes Benz all the way to St. Louis. The trip back to Iowa City wasn’t as comfortable. She rode in the back of a police wagon, wearing handcuffs and accompanied by a uniformed officer. The county courthouse steps were filled with reporters and photographers. She tried to shield her face. People were taking pictures from all directions and shouting questions: “Why did you try to kill your husband? Did you do it for the money? Did you think you would get away with it?” The police rushed her through the crowd and into the building.

She heard their words with disbelief. How could they possibly be asking such questions? Claire worried about Emily. First John, now her, what must she be going through? Claire reassured herself once Tony woke up he would take care of everything.