Greetings again!
Work got kinda crazy, so I haven't finished this up just yet, but I'm getting there! Thanks for your patience.
I'll be traveling next week, so no update for another couple of weeks. The next chapter's 'almost' ready to go.
If you've landed here first, we actually picked up again at Chapter 44.
Now, onward...
####
Either the woman in front of her was making an ill-timed attempt at the latest dance craze or–
"Mama!"
Jenny shot forward just in time to catch a knee in the head. Her mother landed in her outstretched arms with an 'oomph.'
"Watch out," she muttered, gently pushing the older woman off of her sprawled form.
Opal patted down her hair before assaulting her daughter's. "Are you okay sugar-pie?"
Insistent assurances soon paid off, as Opal let her go and promptly….made another beeline for the wall.
This time, Jenny was prepared. She grabbed hold of her mother's yoga pants in a death grip. "I think we've had enough feathered peacocks for one day."
"But –"
Jenny settled into the first - and easiest - she could think of, signaling her mother to join her.
"I still think we're ready for the advanced stage, but –" Opal's face brightened, which could mean very good – "this does give us a chance to get caught up, mama-to-baby girl."
Or very bad things.
"First things first, I wanna know when you're gonna call up that handsome husband of yours and let him know you're back among the land of the living."
Jenny sighed. Very, very bad.' Why couldn't her mother, or anyone else who'd asked, not see why she could never even 'think' of contacting Greg? "I've told you, Mama, I –"
"Opal., how are you and that beautiful daughter of yours?"
Jenny sent silent thanks. Saved by the 'gal-pal.'
Her mother bounded up to give Erica a hug, inquisition forgotten…at least for now. "Well, I finally convinced this one to join us for one of our classes. To become one with the Buddha."
It still amazed, and amused, Jenny to see her mother and the infamous Erica Kane side-by-side. If ever an odd couple existed….
But seeing the way the smaller woman looked at her friend with a mixture of amusement and endearment settled any doubts Jenny might have had about the unconventional friendship. Movement caught her eye. "Mama, Mrs. Martin's here, and –"
If the sight of Marian Chandler was enough to stop the words, the figure beside her was sufficient to trample and stomp them. It seemed that today was mother-daughter day at the Y's yoga extravaganza.
Her mother supplied the words for her: "What the devil is she doing here?"
The question was echoed, although not in quite the same terms, by Erica, who was directing her own glare at the laughing fourth and fifth members of the group.
Ruth Martin and Nina Cortlandt had apparently become honorary members of the Chandler wives club, an ever-expanding franchise with Marian Chandler, Li Brooke English, and of course, Liza Colby as today's representatives.
Jenny could only sigh again. Yoga was a peaceful undertaking, right?
What could go wrong?
# (One hour later)
"You did it!..."
"Oh, please, as if I would ever lower myself…"
"Only to -"
"Hey, you've got room to –"
"Ladies, ladies…."
"Stay out of it!" Several voices, for once a united front, lobbied the suggestion at a miffed Ruth, who stalked away, shoulders perfectly postured: "I am going to the ladies' room."
"You might want to take this one with you. She does -"
"Oh, you –"
Jenny grabbed her mother for the second time today, and received an elbow in place of the knee. "Down, Mama, down."
"I see sweet little Jenny didn't lose her halo."
The aforementioned 'sweet little one' dropped her mother's arm, prepared to let the angel fall.
"Please, if you see him again, get in touch with me immediately." A quieter, desperate voice had managed to overpower their 'spirited disagreement.'
Opal approached the shaking woman at the service counter first. "Krystal, honey, what happened?"
The woman, who Jenny quickly identified as Tad's ex-wife and the mother of one of her beautiful nieces, looked to Opal with glazed eyes. "It's AJ….he's - he's gone. We got a tip he came here last night, but now he's…" She blinked, seeing the small crowd around her, but not seeing. "I'm sorry, I have to go."
This time Erica stepped forward. She glanced back at the group, whom had somehow moved closer together. Jenny's arm, in fact, was now brushing Liza's. United once again, they gave a collective nod.
Erica returned the gesture before taking Krystal' s hand. "Not without us you don't," she said.
####
His hand fell from the metal for oh, about the hundredth time. In a week of craziness, who would have thought that an ill-timed battle with a doorknob would top the list?
And it 'was' crazy, make no mistake. Just a few days ago, he'd become one of the guests of honor at a 'hey-glad-you're-not-pushing-daisies pow-wow.' Now, Leo couldn't even walk into a room and face the woman he loved.
He'd given her the letter and silently walked out, convincing her and himself that he was respecting her. Honoring Ryan. But out here, playing tag with a door, he could admit that a part of him was afraid to stay - and was damn near terrified of her reaction to the contents of that letter.
When David came jogging down the hallway as if he had been paged to the scene of a fifteen-car pileup, Leo almost welcomed the distraction. When he saw the uniform following closely behind, the welcome took a swift hike. His brother seeking the companionship of a cop was a shift in the space-time continuum if ever one existed.
Without so much as a 'hey, bro,' David shoved an envelope into Leo's still-sweaty palm. If the letter in that room represented uncertainty and fear, Leo had a feeling this one presented a whole other level of life-altering. One look at his brother confirmed that fact. Letters, it seemed, were destined to be his demon-in-disguise.
Leo read the words while the cannonball in his gut grew a little heavier with each syllable. And he knew exactly who stood at the end of that lighted match. "What are we gonna do?" he asked.
"Yes, what are we going to do?"
Leo turned to determined eyes that he knew better than his own.
"The good officer here –" David nodded to the cop before returning his attention to the firecracker who was lounging, arms crossed, in the room's doorway. "— will provide you protection."
Greenlee cocked an eyebrow. "Like Hell."
####
Don't do it.
"I'm sorry, but I really must receive Ms. Montgomery's approval before I can release the children to anyone."
Score one for the mouse at the desk. He knew she had it in her.
'Look, lady, they should've come with us months ago. You're damn lucky we aren't –"
The hot piece in the skirt practically muscled her way past the suited runt then. She'd been zip-lipped up until now, but she was the big gun of the operation. She fired off a smile that looked as fake as her tits. Good cop, bad cop…obvious from a few feet, or a few miles away.
Hopefully the mouse could see it too.
"I do understand your concerns. Believe me, no one knows better than us the challenges you face, but we truly just want to ensure that these young people have the best opportunities."
The image of a couple of other suits just like these flashed through his mind. The feel of two weights on each of his shoulders, moving him toward the car as his family got dimmer and dimmer….
Tyrone shook off the weights, the memories, muttering, "BS."
"Ma'am, I must –"
"I know." The barely-there, totally-everywhere steel in those words were her only give-away.
Come'on, you gotta see it.
"Rest assured…" she continued, a clear sign that the last thing any of these fools shoulda been doing was resting or being assured. "We will talk in-depth with Ms. Montgomery at her earliest convenience. Our urgency, well, we are not supposed to officially talk about such things…."
The bitch let it hang at just the right time, and Tyrone could practically hear her learning forward in that 'just-between-me-and-you' way. Cat playing with its micey.
"We have a family who might be interested in taking them both in. I am aware of how much they would love to stay together. Although it's a foster now, if things go well, who knows…"
By the time that second hanger came, Tyrone knew that the cat had snagged its prey. The smirk they only let loose when the mouse left said just how much they liked chewing on the leftover guts.
Within minutes, Jun and the kid were being pushed into the waiting claws of 'Social Services.'
To the slaughter.
Tyrone pushed his hat back and slipped from behind the wall…just a few paces behind the foursome heading for the door.
####
The phone was snatched from her hand before it could make contact with the glass. She did the next best thing and pushed toward the glass herself, fist raised. Only her knuckles brushed the hard surface, however.
"What are you doing?"
Bianca could feel the exclamation on the whisper, but she'd be damned if she would reign in her own expletives. "Getting the hell out of here." Her heated gaze fixed on the useless, disconnected hunk of junk laying on the floor. She sped forward, crushing said junk underneath her weight. She slammed her hands on the wheels and whirled back around, turning her attention back toward the window.
Yasmin stood in front of it.
"Don't think that I would hesitate to do the same to you." Her eyes cut coldly to the dead woman still slumped over the desk. "That's what happens to women who get too close."
The other woman responded by pushing herself from the window. "I'll take my chances." She closed the distance between them.
Not again. Bianca focused on her legs, her mangled, unfeeling, useless legs that were such a representative of. She did feel something now, though…a light touch on her still-taut knuckles.
"He has my little girls," she whispered brokenly. The world dissolved into more shattered fragments. "I can't –"
A firm push on her chin. "You will."
Her vision cleared. She didn't see deceptively quiet offices or murdered lovers or hand-written ransom notes delivered by fax. All she saw was one resolute, determined face. "We will," it said. Then it curved into the smallest of smiles. "But no more escape attempts from high-rise windows, okay? Spiderman I am not."
Bianca felt her hand relax and reach out, not toward the window this time, but toward steady warmth.
Toward strength.
When the doorknob began to rattle on the other side of the room, that strength doubled.
####
"It's happening again."
She didn't realize the words, the deepest fears, had found form until his rough stubble softly scratched her cheek - until his hand drew her head closer.
"It won't." It was so faint, but she knew it carried the power, the force of everything he was. Everything they were together.
When Kendall pulled back and found his eyes, found him, she shook her head fiercely. "It won't," she affirmed before walking over to where the note lay. She touched each letter, felt each sick pen stroke, and slammed her hand on the period: her own exclamation. At. Zach's silence, she took his hand. "What are you thinking?"
This time, it was a slamming phone that cut off the answer.
"Damn It!" Jesse collapsed onto the couch beside the phone, face in his hands.
"What? Did you get through?..."
When Jesse finally lifted his head, his bloodshot and haunted eyes confirmed that this hellish night was just beginning.
"That….that was Frankie. He's, he's so –" With one vehement shake of the head, Jesse spat out four words. "Somebody's got my grandbaby."
When the phone rang once again, Jesse ended the call with three more mechanical words: "I'll be there,"
One short breath, one brief close of the eyes, one too-short respite before their savior-turned-co-victim added, " That was Tad and Dixie. Kathy's missing, too. God, I –"
Zach laid a hand on Jesse's shoulder. "Go be with your boy. We'll find Tad and Dixie, bring them over." When Kendall stepped beside him, he added: "We'll figure this thing out together."
"And we'll bring them home." Her promise.
Her guarantee.
####
"What the hell are you thinking?"
"Have you taken leave of your senses, boy?"
Somehow, the simultaneously spoken words didn't cancel each other out. Instead, they reinforced and maybe said a little more about the connection between their respective speakers than either would admit.
"Just hear me out, okay?" Miguel turned in the car, half-facing the last two men he would have ever believed he would be chauffeuring around a year ago. To top it off, they were paying a 'friendly' visit to the man that he claimed to hate with everything in him.
Definitely time to do the one thing that had gotten him through most of his life: white-knuckle it, and hope like hell he didn't crash in the process.
"Caleb has…,you know, he's had the whole survivalist thing going. He can help -"
"He won't lift a finger for me." It was a concession cloaked in a brush-off.
"I'll be with you," Miguel said. "He'll help me." He expected Adam, master-possessor, to argue the point – to remind him that he'd not just taken, but ripped himself out of Caleb's life.
Adam, his eyes flicking ever-slightly to their left, gave a silent nod instead and opened the car door.
Miguel looked back to JR, who was unusually quiet. "I think it'd be best if you –"
"I know. I'll wait." He tapped his legs and smiled weakly. "What other option do I have?"
Pushing his hesitation aside, Miguel stepped out of the car and both Adam and he turned to the looming shadow of Wildwind. When they finally to the door, Adam folded his hands and cleared his throat. Miguel had come to know the gesture well. His own version included a roll of the shoulders.
Translation: I'm probably gonna get my ass kicked, but what the hell?
Adam raised his hand to knock on the door, but it swung open. In place of the gruff mountain man, an unexpected figure waited on the other side.
Peter Cortlandt.
####
They all wanted her to do the one thing she could never do again: nothing.
For months, she had lived in a fog, holding on to one constant for dear life: them.
Her family.
Hers.
They, more than any prayer or any miracle experiment, had kept her alive. And that precious little girl was the living, breathing manifestation of everything that Angie's family meant to her. Because of that tiny gift, Angie believed in love at first sight.
Now a sick force wanted to leave them broken on the floor again, helpless.
Never.
'Never," Angie whispered. Ignoring the dizziness, ignoring the protests, she approached her boy, whose back was turned. When she laid her hands on his shoulders - those strong shoulders that had lifted so much - he faced her and buried himself in her arms.
She didn't offer prayers or reassurances. She just gave one simple command, from mother to son.: "Let's find our girl, baby."
Securing his wife in the hug, Angie's boy – her son – did his mother proud. He nodded only once and said, "Let's do it."
####
They flanked either side of the door, each holding a makeshift weapon Through wordless communication, they had agreed that Bianca would aim for the kneecaps and she for the eyes.
Zero in on the vulnerabilities: it was a well-worn lesson she'd desperately wanted to un-learn.
The click of the latch ricocheted through the quiet room, amplifying each endless second. At the door's first creak, the pen's steel finish dug into Yasmin's flesh. She raised her arm.
The small scream didn't stop her hand mid-arc, but Bianca's surprised voice did.
"Cara?"
Yasmin extricated herself from behind the door, getting her first look at the wide-eyed woman who was semi-cowering in the doorway. She didn't relax her grip on the pin, though. Enemies could come in any form. Experience had also taught her that lesson.
"What are you doing here?" The two women before her volleyed the question at each other simultaneously.
The woman apparently named Cara responded first. "I'm looking for Joaquin Espinoza. "
At this, Bianca moved back slightly, allowing Cara entrance. When their new arrival saw the office and all its contents, Yasmin finally dropped her weapon. No one could fake the horror written on the other woman's face.
"God," The small sigh resonated equal parts plea and condemnation. "He has my son."
####
It was that moment when the slick oil salesman comes face to face with his fallen protégé.
The boy didn't stammer, which showed that he had more of old Pete in him than he'd own up to. "I came to let this thief know he wasn't –"
Caleb caught Peter's arm as it swung back to accentuate the thief in question. At the boy's puzzled look, he sighed. "No more games. It's never been my style." He looked from Adam to the figure just a step behind him. "We swing, we give 'em a chance to swing back, .and whoever's bloodiest at the end…well, maybe they'll win. Or maybe they'll lose."
"What in the blazes are you talking about?"
It was a mighty presumptive question coming from the man who'd just strolled onto his doorstep with 'his' son. Caleb's teeth ground painfully with each shake of the head.
"He's talking about me," Peter said. "The guy, the Cortlandt –" he added with emphasis – "that fooled the great Adam Chandler."
This time, he moved forward. This time, Caleb let the boy say his piece.
"Did you ever think I would turn my back on my family?"
The old bastard tried to hide it behind an icy smirk, but Caleb could see the fire licking the feet of that ice. "What I did do was underestimate your stupidity, you dolt. I suppose that a few years for corporate espionage will settle the matter to my satisfaction."
Caleb held his young cousin back. "No laws were broken, " he said. "And Peter here does have a lawyer in the family."
"Where did you get that degree, off of –"
"Who gives a damn about any of this?" As three pairs of eyes turned toward him, the forgotten figure in the room turned to Adam. "Did it slip your mind why we're here?"
Peter redirected his anger. "For your big gotcha moment, would be my guess. Or maybe you want to come crawling back now that you realize -"
Caleb put himself between the living continuation of a feud that should have gasped its last breath decades ago. He, Adam, and Palmer were too full of piss and vinegar to make it happen, but maybe these two could tell a different story.
Quieting the younger Cortlandt with with a silent request, Caleb closed his eyes - to steel himself or to force a crack open, he damn sure couldn't say. Readmitting the world, he turned to Asher….to Miguel….to his - to his son. "What's on your mind?" he asked.
The boy met each of their eyes before settling his gaze on Caleb. "It's about the one person all of this doesn't matter to…or maybe the one person who it will matter to most in the end."
"It's about my son."
The fact that a paraplegic con had materialized in his doorway wasn't even the kicker. It was JR's next words that changed the game for Caleb.
"AJ's been kidnapped, and we need your help."
####
"This is the last place I wanted to come, but my brother here convinced me that we needed help….from someone we can trust." David's eyes searched, found her.
Jesse expressed what they were all thinking, what they all feared. "Is this about your son?"
The newly arrived trio's slightly stunned expressions were all the confirmation they needed.
"How did you know?"
The lump that Greenlee forced down her throat was nearly visible as the young woman asked "What happened?"
Jesse pinched the bridge of his nose, his lifelong control mechanism. "Seems these people had a busy night. They've got Tad and Dixie's girl, Kendall and Zach's boys, and –" A pained hitch strangled his attempt to finish.
"They must have hit me from behind and taken little Angie." The words were steady, strong, calm…because they had to be. Good God, they needed to be.
"Angie, I'm …" David he took back the instinctual step he had taken forward. "I'm sorry this has happened to all of you."
"They're dangerous," the sandy-haired man she knew to be David's brother said. "Before we came here, we went to check on Alejandro, just to be sure." The man drew in a breath before continuing. "Alejandro's mom wasn't there, but there was a dead body - "
"And these are the people who have our baby!" Randi shouted.
Leo shook his head. "They won't hurt them. They're leverage. Think about the kids we're talking about here. What do they all have in common?"
"Parents connected to Orpheus."
Angie could see something forming in her husband's mind. "What are you thinking, Jesse?"
He turned to Brot and Natalia before answering. "We have reason to believe that these people are deeply involved in illegal medical research. They've already –" He shook his head forcefully. "If they have a vested interest in this Project Orpheus, then –"
"It's my mind they want," David said.
"Modest as always, Hayward."
"And true." David stepped into the middle of the room, where he always thrived. "They want me. They get me, and this all ends."
"No," she said resolutely before the thought had even fully formed in her mind. Unabated, she stepped into the small circle that had been created. "Handing them this technology is like handing over a nuclear bomb to terrorists."
The conviction in David's eyes was just as resolute. "They won't get it," he said.
"They have their tricks."
"And so do I." A slight twinkle accentuated the affirmation. "Maybe you were right about me," he said softly before clearing his throat and offering the group the David Hayward they had all come to know and…tolerate. "I want these kids to have a shot. I'll save them."
"No, we will." Jesse took in every person in the room before stepping beside David. "You got a problem with that?" he challenged.
David rubbed his chin. "Dr. David Hayward and police chief Jesse Hubbard as team?" He shrugged and smiled. "It just might be crazy enough to work."
####
How many more dead bodies might she see on this day? An image of a tiny coffin ambushed her, and she forced the vision away by focusing her attention on the two women.
"The wounds are consistent with the wounds on my sitter." Wendi. Her name is Wendi. She would 'not' reduce herself to the role of detached medical examiner.
"Even if this place is supposed to be closed up for the day, I have a feeling the police will be getting an anonymous tip soon. The lack of security, the suddenly locked door, no coincidence. We…we can't be here when they find her."
Cara opened her mouth for a protest that never came.
"I think we've found something that will ensure he can't cover his tracks." Bianca patted the tiny scrap of paper that she had retrieved from a small crack in the desk while Cara was examining the dead woman. "Sarah outsmarted them to the end." A tiny, shaky smile wavered on her features.
Meanwhile, the woman whom Cara was pretty sure had been one flick of the wrist away from assaulting her a few moments ago snapped several pictures. She uttered a few quiet words Cara did not understand before taking a final shot of Sarah.
"What now?" They were the only words - and the most vital words - Cara could offer.
Bianca soundlessly moved to the desk and picked up a paper too identical to Cara's own. Holding it up, she offered a simple response: "We make it right, and we get our kids back." She laid the paper down, a steadier finger underscoring four words: where it all began…
####
Tad wrapped his arms around her.
Tad, her partner on the journey they had spoken of to no one else, the journey that led them back to their child and - although they didn't know it at the time - to each other.
She'd been more useful comatose in a bed than standing right here. Dixie searched the sky for her guide, but a blanket of clouds obscured the path. Just…dissipating darkness. The dull ache inside her tore a little more
When two distorted shadows detached themselves from the darkness, she clutched Tad's hand and pulled them both up from the park bench. A peal of lightning illuminated the faces that could have been mirrors.
They were the wrong faces.
"What are you doing out here?" The question came out harsher, more accusatory than intended.
"We thought you were Jesse," Tad explained, as if that might properly summarize why any of them were strolling through the park in the midst of a brewing storm.
Zach surprised her by speaking first. "We know; we came on his behalf."
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were now a member of the police department." Again, more abrasive than she needed to be, and the temporary flare in Kendall's eyes (that could not be attributed to the electricity swirling in the sky) shot off a warning. .
Tad had a shorter response, and the brief exhale that preceded it was another thunderclap. "What's wrong?"
This time, it was Kendall's turn. Her clear, forceful words could not mask the panic in her voice. "Jesse is with his son now. Frankie's daughter has been kidnapped, and…so have Spike and Ian."
Yet another boom amplified Dixie's gasp.
"Who?" Tad put form to the one word stuck in her throat.
Zach had retreated back into his default mode of silence, and he had taken Kendall with him.
Dixie grabbed Tad's arm before he could lunge at the other man. Stepping forward in equal view of both Zach and Kendall, she addressed the question to the man with whom she shared a complicated history. "Who is it?"
Zach took Kendall's hand, and the briefest of silent exchanges seemed to uncomplicated things and give him the answer he - and they - needed. ""I think I know where we can find out. Come with us."