Chapter 9

Chris parked his car down the road from the Montgomery mansion. It had been dark now for several hours. He wondered if anyone inside the house was asleep. He doubted it. More than 15 hours had passed since Erica and Spike were kidnapped by Madden. They could be almost anywhere in the world. The jet parked at the Pine Valley airport had not been touched. Chris knew Madden probably had another one, and it was only a matter of time before his people peeled back the layers of all his holding companies and aliases to discover where such an asset might be kept. Chris sighed. The waiting was always the hardest part of the job. He did an excellent job of hand-picking people to delegate assignments to, but once a task was out of his direct control he felt itchy all over.

It was yet another reason to retire. The more he accomplished in his job, the more responsibility the higher-ups gave him. Less hands-on work, more management. He was nothing more than a fucking administrator at this point. If he left the government, he could set up his own business. In his career he met many individuals and heads of private corporation that would love to make use of his particular talents. In an ideal world, he'd have a couple of partners. Anna Devane was always the first one to come to his mind in such musings. She was an extraordinary agent. Her accomplishments were legendary in the business. It was always rather amusing to him how frustrated the higher-ups had been when he and Anna were both twiddling their thumbs in Pine Valley – she as Chief of Police and he as Erica's lawyer. But that was what love did to a person. Now they were both back in the spy game. Chris heard through the grapevine that she was also pursuing an arms dealer – Lorenzo Alcazar. Yes, she definitely would make an excellent business partner. Too bad that she would probably murder him if she knew the part he played in Leo and Vanessa's "death."

Zach Slater was also someone that he would love to have as a partner. Slater was shrewd, skilled, had the right outlook on life, and he was in the casino business. Casinos were a gold mine of information and networking. The best thing he ever did was facilitate the poker game that resulted in Slater gaining ownership of the Seasons. Unfortunately, given their past interactions, Slater was unlikely to ever consider a partnership with him. It was the consequence of being a manipulative bastard. Chris had no illusions about himself. He'd forced his will on too many people's lives. He didn't give a damn about the feelings of 98 of his pawns – they were all criminals that were destined to live out their days in a jail cell. Zach Slater and Leo du Pres were the glaring exceptions. While they had committed crimes in the past, it wasn't a felonious nature that led Chris to take an interest in them. Rather it was circumstances and their unique gifts.

Zach had been ridiculously easy to recruit. As soon as Chris discovered his true identity and threatened to reveal it, Zach fell right into line. Keeping him in line had been another story. Controlling Zach Slater had been like holding on to a rattlesnake. Chris was always saddened by the fact that a man he would have liked for a friend would instead be an enemy for life. Not that friendship had ever benefited him. The bond he formed with Jackson Montgomery had resulted in the worst betrayal of his life. Anna Devane could have been a good friend, but he'd been commanded by his superiors to keep her at arms length. She was far too shrewd not to figure out sooner or later that he wasn't really FBI. And then there was his friendship with his son. He was the one who fucked that one up. Friendships just weren't in the cards for him, so it was just as well that Zach hated him.

Chris pulled out his cell phone and dialed Zach's number. There may be enmity between them, but they had a shared goal and they needed to work together.

Greenlee paid the driver and then turned to the porter. She instructed him about where her grandfather's jet was located, and he headed off in that direction with her suitcase. Greenlee took out her cell phone and stared at it a moment. She wasn't quite ready to talk to her father yet. Maybe when she was halfway to Pine Valley. Or perhaps after she landed. Maybe she'd just show up on his doorstep. One thing was for sure, if she wasn't ready to face Jackson yet, she sure as hell wasn't ready to face Ryan. Taking a deep breath, she tucked her cell away in her clutch purse, and walked towards where the jet was parked.

Maybe she'd call David first. He'd tell her exactly what he was thinking, but he would never judge or lecture her. When she did talk to him, she wouldn't tell him about what Max tried to pull. He would be furious and probably fly to Paris to give Max a castration drug.

Lost in thought, when she came around a corner she almost ran into a man pushing a wheelchair. Sighing in disgust, she stepped to the side. The man hesitated, and she looked up at him. To her amazement, she realized that the man was Greg Madden. He was staring at her enlarged abdomen. She recovered from her surprise, anger boiling to the surface. "Dr. Madden! Surprised to see me eight months pregnant? Looks like I'm able to carry a child to term after all." Her voice rose and people started to glance their way.

Madden looked around, a concerned expression on his face. He glanced down at the wheelchair. For the first time Greenlee looked at the person he'd been conveying across the tarmac. It was Erica Kane, and she was fast asleep. Greenlee's mouth dropped open. "Erica? What the…? What are you doing with Erica? Why is she passed out?"

Greg stepped out from behind the wheelchair and approached Greenlee. He grasped her arm and she immediately started to pull away. "Get away from me, you quack!" She stopped struggling when she saw the gun in his hand.

In a slightly elevated voice, Madden proclaimed, "Let's make haste, my dear. The porter is waiting at the car and your mother is anxious to get home."

Numb with shock, Greenlee turned and led the way back to the parking lot. Madden tucked his gun out of sight, and started to push the wheelchair again. Greenlee had no doubt that he was perfectly capable of retrieving the gun if she tried to escape. He would have nothing to lose at that point. Smiling genially, he told her that if she did not cooperate when they reached the car, he would have no qualms about killing the porter and then her. She realized, as they approached the vehicle, that they were in a rather remote part of the parking lot.

When they arrived at the car, Greenlee kept her mouth shut. The porter, a large young fellow who was completely ignorant of the danger, transferred Erica effortlessly to the back seat. It was then that she noticed there was a baby sound asleep in an infant carrier. The porter must have brought the baby ahead so that Madden could tend to Erica himself. Greg tipped the porter, who thanked him genially, then walked away. Greg opened the front passenger door, and pointed the gun at the seat. Greenlee awkwardly climbed in. Madden commanded her to give him her purse, and she reluctantly obeyed. He took out her cell phone and smashed it against the pavement. Then he got into the driver's seat and started the car. As he pulled out of the parking lot, she finally spoke. "Who…whose baby is that?"

Greg smirked. "Why that's the child you made such a fuss about at Thanksgiving. When you staged your dramatic little exit, leaving everyone's lives in an uproar."

Greenlee glanced into the back seat. "So that's Ryan and Kendall's baby?"

Greg tsked. "My dear, if that were Ryan's child he certainly would not be here with us now." He laughed ruefully. "Ryan's child is here, I presume, he's just inside of you at the moment." He shook his head. "And to think I went through so much effort to make sure that man didn't procreate."

Greenlee stared at him, unable to take it all in. "I don't understand. I thought you used what was left of Ryan's sample to inseminate Kendall."

Greg shook his head. "I tossed out Ryan's donations when I found out you had yourself impregnated. Your actions were completely unacceptable and I took measures to rectify it."

Greenlee went very, very hot and then very cold. "Oh my God. You caused my miscarriage, didn't you? It wasn't because of a medical condition. You aborted my baby." The last was said in a whisper.

Madden gripped the steering wheel. "I told you in that first interview that it would be a mistake to bring a child into the world for the purpose of idolizing your dead husband. No child deserves that. I spared him a life of suffering with you as his mother."

Greenlee let out a shriek and started whaling on Greg's arm. The baby, startled by the noise, began to cry. Madden immediately pulled over to the side of the road. With a menacing expression, he pointed the gun in Greenlee's face. "This is precisely what I am talking about. You have no ability whatsoever to control your emotions. How could you possibly expect to raise a mature adult with such behavior as his example?"

Rage coursing through her, Greenlee hissed, "You son of a bitch!"

"Enough theatrics! Now there should be a pacifier in that bag next to the carrier. Find it and give it to Gregory Junior."

Greenlee stared at him, horrified. "Gregory Junior? You inseminated Kendall with your own sperm?"

Madden cocked his head towards the back of the car. "The pacifier, Greenlee."

Greenlee unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned sideways over the seat, having a great deal of trouble with her large abdomen. She found the pacifier and placed it in the baby's mouth. She stroked his little cheek, "Shhhh, shhhh. It's okay, sweetie. It's alright. Shhhh." The baby calmed down, his eyes sleepy. Tears rolled down Greenlee's cheeks. Her heart ached for Kendall. She must be going out of her mind right now.

Zach stroked Kendall's hair as they lay in the guest bed of the Montgomery mansion. Kendall refused to sleep at the condo. Spike was supposed to have come home today and spent his first night there. Kendall said she couldn't bring herself to sleep there until Spike was back with her. Not that she would sleep wherever she was. Zach knew that she was too distressed to fall into slumber. He suggested she take a sleeping pill, and she flat out refused. She said that she didn't want to be groggy if there was news about Spike.

They'd had a fight earlier. Kendall wanted to personally question Hazel, and Zach wouldn't let her. He kept urging her to take it easy. Her doctor had been very clear that too much stress could result in a dangerous relapse. Zach was scared to death of her health failing. He had walked a fine line earlier, trying to get her to see reason without angering her too greatly. She agreed not to pursue anything for now, but she was definitely pissed off at him.

Zach's cell phone rang, and Kendall sat bolt-upright in bed. Zach snatched it off the side table before she could get to it. The display screen identified the caller as Ian Wells. Zach looked up at Kendall's hopeful face. "This is…uh…related to the search for Kate. I'll be right back." He got out of bed, grabbing his sweatpants. He knew when he got back he'd be in even deeper shit.

When he got to the hallway he answered the phone. "Hold on a minute." He hopped into his sweatpants and slipped out onto the veranda. "What do you want, Sam?"

"We need to discuss strategies for getting Erica and Spike back."

"You mean you want help in cleaning up the mess you made. I assume that you're lurking around here somewhere?"

"The gazebo out by the lake."

"Lovely place for a tryst. I'll be there soon." Zach hit the end button.

Bianca blearily contemplated her cup of espresso. After Jackson's late night phone call, she hadn't slept a wink. Unfortunately, Miranda had slept well and was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning. She was currently conducting a very lively one-sided conversation with a teddy bear.

Maggie came into the kitchen and put her hand on Bianca's shoulder. "Why don't I take Mimo to the park so you can try to sleep?"

Bianca smiled ruefully. "As if I'm going to be more successful if I go back to bed? I won't be able to close my eyes until my mother is found." Her voice trailed off in a squeak. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "Besides, I don't think I can let Miranda out of my sight right now. Just looking at her makes me feel a little more calm." Maggie nodded and kissed the top of her head. They were both startled when they heard the door buzzer. Bianca frowned. "Did I miss the doorman calling to say we had a visitor?"

Maggie shook her head. "Maybe it's one of our neighbors."

Bianca grimaced. "Or maybe a reporter snuck in somehow."

Maggie squeezed her shoulder. "Let me take care of it. You know how I like to take out the trash."

Bianca chuckled. "You're very good at it."

Maggie checked the peephole, then opened up the front door and narrowed her eyes at the tall, unkempt man standing there. Normally she would show more prudence about opening the door to strangers, but she had a black belt and the desire to take her foul mood out on someone. "You damn well better be a neighbor wanting to borrow a cup of sugar."

He smiled slightly. "Maggie."

Something about the way he said her name sent a frisson of awareness up her spine. She was used to reporters knowing who she was, but usually they addressed her as "Miss Stone" in an obsequious manner. "Who are you?"

He pressed his lips together, as if he didn't know how to continue. There was something about his eyes…

Curious about who was at the front door, Bianca came into the front hall. Maggie and some guy were standing there staring at each other. He looked up at Bianca. Bianca paused, unnerved by the way he regarded her. "Bianca…"

She felt lightheaded. She'd heard her name spoken by that voice too many times not to recognize it instantly. Was it the lack of sleep? Or had she fallen asleep and was dreaming? His name trembled on her lips, but she was unable to speak it aloud.

The stranger smiled tenderly and nodded his head. "It's me, Bianca. It's really me."