Aleatha Romig: Behind His Eyes

It was sometime later, the bright-eyed woman returned.

“Mr. Rawlings, can you speak?”

“Y-yes,” he managed.

“Do you remember what you ingested?”

“Cof-coffee.” His voice sounded unfamiliar—scratchy and weak.

“Yes, the police collected the coffee. It contained poison. The police want to talk to you. However, I believe you need your rest first. How are you feeling?”

“My chest and sides hurt.”

Bright Eyes nodded. “We had to restart your heart. Whatever you ingested has had a negative effect on your heart muscle. We’ll have to ensure that there’s no permanent damage. We have a cardiologist who’ll be in to talk with you regarding future treatment.”

Tony blinked and tried to concentrate. “Treatment? What do you mean? There could be long-term effects from this?”

“I don’t want to worry you unnecessarily, but yes. Mr. Rawlings, you’re lucky to be alive—to have survived this. I’m guessing that either you were too healthy for this toxin, or the dose was misjudged.”

“Are you saying that I could have died?”

Bright Eyes smiled. “I’m saying that you’ll survive, and if treatment is necessary to facilitate that, we’ll find what is best for you. In the meantime, the Iowa City Police have stationed officers outside of your door.”

“Why?”

“Mr. Rawlings, someone tried to harm you. We don’t want to give that someone another opportunity.”

“I have my own security. I don’t need policemen outside my door,” Tony said.

“You can discuss that with the ICPD but not right now. I’m going to give you something to rest.”

Tony looked around the room and saw the source of the repetitive beeping. “Nurse, what is all of this? Why is it beeping faster? Where’s my doctor?”

Bright Eyes’ smile returned. “First, your IV is flushing your body with fluid. It’s helping to rid your blood and organs of the toxins. These are monitors that tell us what’s happening inside of you. The one beeping faster is telling me that you are stressed, and the medication we just added to your IV will help alleviate that. Your heart doesn’t need any unnecessary stress.”

She had no fuck’n idea!

Tony tried to sit up, but Bright Eyes’ small hand pushed against his shoulder. He couldn’t believe that this tiny woman could overpower him. He’d never felt so weak. “Mr. Rawlings, listen to me. You need to rest. Let me introduce myself: I’m your doctor, Doctor Logan, and I want you to follow my rules.”

His eyes opened wide. “Oh … I didn’t realize. I just assumed … oh shit … I should probably just shut up.”

Doctor Logan smiled again. “Yes, Mr. Rawlings, I think that would be a good idea. Soon the medicine will take effect and you’ll feel sleepy. I recommend you rest. Then, when you wake, we’ll see about you talking to the police.”

“D-doctor?” His words began to slur.

“Yes, Mr. Rawlings?”

“W-where’s my … wife?” Tony slipped back into the darkness.

The next time Tony woke, he wasn’t alone. Eric was sitting in a recliner near his bed, reading a magazine. After a few swallows to moisten his throat, Tony found his voice. “Eric, why are you here? What happened to Claire?”

Eric dropped the magazine and moved swiftly to Tony’s bedside. “Mr. Rawlings, um, Mrs. Rawlings is on her way back to Iowa City.”

Tony’s chest ached. He didn’t know if the pain was from the medical treatment or the confirmation in Eric’s voice. “How far, Eric? How far did she drive?”

“Mr. Rawlings, I’m here to assure your safety.”

“Are the police still outside?” When Eric looked puzzled, Tony continued, “The doctor, she told me about them—before.”

“Yes, sir, they are. There’re some FBI agents here too. I promised I’d alert them as soon as you woke. Do you want me to get them?”

“Eric, damn it! Answer my question. When Claire left the estate, how far did she go?”

Eric leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Sir, I don’t believe the FBI want me to say anything.”

“Since when do I give a fuck about anyone else’s directives?”

Still whispering, Eric said, “Mr. Rawlings, Mrs. Rawlings was found, and she’s been arrested in connection with your attempted murder.”

Tony closed his eyes. Everything was in motion. It had proceeded just as they’d planned, and damn, his plans never failed. Well, once, but that was over—Claire finished it. Opening his eyes, he stared. “Go tell the damn police or FBI or whoever the fuck wants to listen, I’m ready to answer their questions.”

During the few moments that Tony lay alone in his hospital room, he remembered a scene in Claire’s suite. It was before they were married. They’d been discussing the prenuptial agreement. He remembered telling Claire why there wouldn’t be an agreement. He said it was because they would not divorce—he would not leave her, and she would not leave him. He asked her if she knew what would happen if she did. She said she did.

As the law enforcement officers entered his room, Tony pushed the button, raised the back of his bed, and squared his shoulders. He bet Claire had no fuck’n idea of the consequences of her failure! She would soon find out what would happen!

Anthony Rawlings’ statement was straightforward. “There was nothing special about the morning. I got up, worked out in my gym, showered, ate breakfast, and began working.”

“Working?” the officer asked.

“Yes, that’s what I do—I work.”

“Mr. Rawlings, did you go to your office?”

Tony pressed his lips together and momentarily stared. “Officer, I may be lying in a hospital bed, but I’m not crazy or stupid. Don’t ask me questions when you already know the answers. I don’t deal with incompetents and I don’t intend to start.”

The man bristled in his seat and rephrased his question. “Could you please be more specific about where you were working?”

“I have an office in my home. On occasion, I work from there. On the morning in question, I was working from my office within my home.”

“Sir, who else was in your home?”

“My wife and my staff.” Tony shook his head. “No one unusual.”

“Did—” The officer immediately rephrased, “What did you eat and drink that morning?”

Tony tried to recall. “I had a bottle of water after my workout. I think I ate eggs and bacon for breakfast. There might have been fruit, I don’t remember.” He paused. “Oh, I had orange juice and coffee with breakfast.”

“Was that all?”

“I had coffee again in my office, late in the morning.”

The officer’s shoulders stiffened. “Did you get your own coffee?”

“No.” Tony didn’t offer more.

“Sir, how do you take your coffee?”

“Black—sometimes with cream.”

The man wrote more in his notepad. “Who brought your coffee to your office?”

“My wife,” Tony mumbled.

“Did you say it was your wife?”

“Yes, my wife, Claire Rawlings, brought me coffee that morning, but if you or anyone else is suggesting that she would knowingly try to poison me, I believe you’re mistaken.”

It wasn’t the young officer taking notes who responded. It was the older gentleman who’d been watching from the perimeter of the hospital room. “Mr. Rawlings, we aren’t suggesting anything. We’re trying to gather the evidence.”

Tony was obviously feeling much stronger. Dr. Logan had been in earlier and authorized the questioning, and the cardiologist was scheduled to visit later in the afternoon. Tony leaned forward. “I’m at an obvious disadvantage,” he spoke to the older gentleman. “You know my name, but I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”