Chloe Morgan surveyed her models one final time as they assembled in a tent erected for Paris Fashion Week outside the Grand Palais. Their turn on the catwalk, created on the Pont Alexandre III, began in just under fifteen minutes.
"C'est bon?" Marc Dupont, the local stylist she had retained for her first participation in Paris Fashion Week, asked.
"Oui," Chloe said as she forced a smile in spite of the nervous niggling starting in her stomach. She couldn't remember the last time that she had been nervous before a show. She had been excited, but never nervous. Perhaps it was just because she was on new territory. Perhaps that was why she had felt so much peace when she had proudly displayed her designs at Milan's Fashion Week the second week of September. Perhaps…
Yet, as her assistant Giulia assembled the models into their lines, Chloe knew that wasn't the only difference between the two experiences. When she had participated in Milan Fashion Week, she hadn't just returned from a trip to visit her sister. After her long weekend with Amy it was painfully obvious that there was something very wrong and she was no closer to figuring out how to help than she had been when she had boarded her plane from the Port Charles International Airport.
While she was attempting to compartmentalize those thoughts, she heard commotion outside the tent.
"Madame, madame, vous ne pouvez pas y aller!"
"I told you I know her!" a slightly familiar voice shouted back. Then Lucy Coe burst into the tent with two security agents right behind.
"Désolé pour l'intrusion, mademoiselle. On va la sortir d'ici!" one agent said as he placed firm hands on each of Lucy's shoulders.
"Où vas-tu l'emmener?" Chloe asked
"Monsieur. Chanel a dit que ces zones étaient restreintes et que tous les intrus devraient être pris pour intrusion!" the other agent answered proudly.
"Peut-être qu'il ya un peu d'une erreur, je suis sûr que Madame Coe vient de se perdre à la recherche de la zone de visionnement public pour le spectacle. Pourriez-vous la diriger là-bas ?" Chloe asked. Lucy Coe was flighty and often annoying. She had certainly tormented her cousins the Doctors Quartermaine but she suspected that attempting to burst into her tent had been without malicious intent.
"Vous la connaissez?" the first agent asked.
"Un peu, ma grand-tante est de Port Charles, New York," Chloe said.
"D'accord, comme tu veux," the first agent said but he didn't release his grasp on Lucy's shoulders as he nudged her forward.
"D'accord," the second agent added. He flashed Chloe a smile. Then he turned to Lucy and said, "Et vous,ne causez plus d'agitation!"
"Vous la connaissez?" Giulia asked after they had left.
"Oui, j'espère que je ne le regrette pas," Chloe.
"Aucune bonne bonne chose ne reste impunie, non?" Giulia said with a conspiratorial smile.
"Vrai!" Chloe agreed. Then she took a deep breath and exited the tent to make her way to the dais. Since her first fashion show, when she hadn't found it sensible to hire someone to write copy or deliver commentary, Chloe had always served as her own commentator. Truly she enjoyed it!
XXXXXXXX
"I understand that you, and the servants, were concerned, cousin. I will certainly make my apologies post haste to them. That said, you cannot believe that Uncle Stefan would want me to abandon Katherine at this critical time," Nikolas said as they stood in the waiting room outside the Surgical ICU at Port Charles General Hospital.
"Stefan and Katherine parted company a week ago," Alexis said.
Nikolas appeared aghast at her words. "That cannot be true! Why else would Katherine ask me to accompany her to the Deception Cosmetics Reception?" he asked.
Because she is a snake! Alexis thought but she doubted that would be well received. "It's beyond me why Ms. Bell does anything," she said.
"Why did she and Uncle decide to part company?" Nikolas asked.
Alexis shrugged her shoulders. "Perhaps you should ask Stefan that question. It isn't really my place to speak for him. Of course, if I was speaking for him, I would remind you that you are supposed to meet your tutor at ten," she said.
"I cannot just abandon Katherine!" Nikolas said.
Alexis rolled her eyes. "You know that if Stefan was here, he would be furious if you missed your tutoring session. He will be furious when he returns and finds out," she said.
Nikolas just glared at her but didn't speak.
"Aah, Mr. Cassadine, just who we were looking for," PCPD Detective Curtis Vanburen said when he stepped off the elevator.
"I can't see what business you would have with my cousin!" Alexis protested.
"We're investigating Katherine Bell's fall and we were told that you made the 911 call. We just need to ask you a few questions about what you saw," Detective Frank Scanlon said.
"I was on my way back to Spoon Island. I walked down the steps to the Locke Street Pier on my way to the launch. I found Katherine on the ground. I have a cell phone, so I called 911. The ambulance came and took her to General Hospital. That is all I know. I wish I could be more helpful," Nikolas blurted out.
Alexis shook her head. She had seen the PCPD twist a lot less into something prosecutable. "If you're implying that my cousin had anything to do with Ms. Bell's fall you could be opening yourself up to a defamation and harassment lawsuit."
"No one is suggesting that Ms. Davis. We're really just trying to figure out what happened. We will be in touch if we need an official statement," Detective Scanlon said. He scribbled a few things on a notepad then looked up and smiled.
"My cousin is still a minor, any further questions you have will need to be routed through me or his Uncle Stefan Cassadine," Alexis said.
"I'll make a note of that. Good day Ms. Davis, Mr. Cassadine. Come on Curtis, let's go see if we can find Dr. Quartermaine or Dr. Ross," Detective Scanlon said before he turned to go.
"I wish you would have let me handle this," Alexis said.
"What is there to handle? I found Katherine on the Locke Street Pier. The police are just doing their job," Nikolas said.
Alexis was afraid it wasn't that simple.
XXXXXXXX
Although technically the county seat of Boggs County, the town of Pine Valley had a population just under 5,000. It also seemed almost quaint despite being considered a Philadelphia suburb. Or it had until the dueling towers of Chandler Enterprises and Cortlandt Electronics came into view.
"Did you make an appointment?" Allison asked her partner as he pulled into the Chandler Enterprises Complex which consisted of the WRCW Television Studio and the Tempo Magazine Headquarters which flanked a central glass tower labeled Chandler Enterprises.
"No, I thought the element of surprise might work in our favor," Alex said as he shifted into park.
Allison wondered about that but she got out of the car and followed her partner up to the main entrance to Chandler Enterprises.
"Can I help you?" a thin Asian young woman with very dark hair called from a centralized reception area almost as soon as they walked through the automatic sliding doors.
"We're looking for whoever handles your corporate vehicle program," Allison said.
"That would be Mitch Rosseau, hold on a second and I'll check if he is in today," she said. She punched a few keys on her computer and then frowned. "I'm sorry, but he isn't in today, perhaps I can help you. I actually used to coordinate that program before Mitch," she said.
That career trajectory seemed a bit off to Allison but she decided to just go with the opening. "Thank you, are your executives taking home vehicles and using them for personal use or do you house the fleet and just allow vehicles to be signed out?" she asked.
"Just between you and me, the corporate vehicle program is just a way for Adam Chandler to write his kids and wives vehicles off as a corporate expense. It also saves him a ton on insurance since I'm pretty sure that no one would insure either of his daughters on their own at this point. How either woman even has a license is a better question," she said.
"So, you're saying that all of the vehicles are registered to Chandler Enterprises but actually driven as personal vehicles by the Chandler family?" Allison asked
"Basically."
"Would you have a list of which vehicle is assigned to which family member?" Allision asked.
"Sure," she said as she hit a few more keys and then reached down to grab a sheet of paper from what Allison presumed was a printer beneath her desk.
Allison scanned through the list and quickly saw the entry for ACE009 a 1997 Black Jeep Grand Cherokee which appeared to be the vehicle of Adam Chandler Jr. She was unsure why the receptionist was being so helpful but she slid the list into her attaché case and smiled. "Thank you, this really is very helpful," she said.
"Oh, we aim to please at Chandler Enterprises," she said.
"Would Adam Chandler Jr. happen to be in today?" Allison asked.
The overly helpful receptionist laughed. "JR? JR is never here, he's like sixteen. Like I said, Mr. Chandler just gives his children corporate vehicles so he can write the cost off as a business expense. You aren't from the police or something are you?"
"Actually, we are. We're detectives with the Port Charles Police Department."
"So, what did he do this time?" she asked.
"Oh, has he been in trouble before?" Allison asked.
"He's a Chandler. I think it kind of goes with the territory. I think Mr. Squires has managed to keep most of it in the juvenile court system so it has been sealed."
Allison nodded. She wanted to denounce his parents' actions but she knew that wealth and or power afforded certain privileges. She had grown up in Sudbury. She had attended the Winsor school. She probably knew many kids who had done all that JR Chandler had and possibly more. They weren't sitting in prison but were instead being groomed to take their place on some corporate board.
While Allison was contemplating those thoughts a short and rotund man crammed into an expensive suit joined them. He extended his hand first to her partner. "Good morning, I am Barry Shires, Chandler Enterprises' Corporate Counsel, perhaps there is something I can help you with. Ms. Chen, perhaps you could get our guests some coffee," Mr. Shires said.
Allison noted the way Mr. Shires smiled at them, but then glared at Ms. Chen. She shrunk back from his glare and retreated. "We were hoping to speak with Adam Chandler Jr., we believe he may have been a witness to a crime," she said.
"I'm not sure what Ms. Chen told you, but Adam Chandler Jr. is a minor so you really can't question him without parental consent, which I assure you his father won't give you," Mr. Shires said.
That wasn't exactly true; although many people, including several of her colleagues, believed that. Regardless, it seemed pretty clear that they had gotten all of the useful information they were going to get. Then there was the issue that JR Chandler was starting to look a lot more like a suspect than a witness. Perhaps it was time to quit while they were slightly ahead. "I suppose that is his right," Allison said before she quickly turned and started toward the door with her partner following closely behind.
XXXXXXXX
Carly Ashton glanced at the clock on Ned's bedside table as she leaned over and hung up the phone. It was ten o'clock so she was sure it looked bad that it had to be painfully obvious the phone had just woken her up; especially since Ned's aunt was apparently calling her in between procedures in the cardiac catheterization lab and had assuredly swum a few miles and gotten four kids off to school even before that. That wasn't the worst part though, because Monica was calling with one of those sympathy dinner invites. The kind people, like Quartermaine, felt obligated to extend to pregnant relatives whose husbands were out of town. Or maybe Ned had put her up to it. Somehow that might be worse.
Carly had held onto what small amount of pride she still had left and lied. She had thanked Monica profusely for the kind thought and expressed even more regret that she already had dinner plans with a friend. Monica had no choice but to agree that it would be rude for Carly to cancel those plans with such short notice. Unfortunately, that left Carly to try to figure out how to reheat frozen pizza in the gleaming silver range that probably cost more than her mother's house. As daunting as that task might be, it seemed less stressful than another family dinner with the Quartermaines.
Carly stretched again and then finally got out of bed with a groan. As she padded downstairs, she realized that tomorrow would be painful. Tomorrow the nursery furniture would be delivered at nine and then the cleaners were coming at noon. She wasn't looking forward to any of that. Somehow it was a lot easier to pretend to a good Quartermaine wife with Ned by her side than alone. She wasn't really sure what that meant.
With another groan Carly entered the kitchen and pulled the refrigerator door open. A smile erupted onto her face when she saw the foil covered plate with instructions for how long to microwave after removing the foil. Ned had made her an omelet before he left. Maybe some people who got up before the sun had some redeeming qualities after all.
The phone rang just as the microwave chimed and against her better judgement, Carly reached for the kitchen extension. "Hello," she said.
"Hello, Carly? This is Beth Quartermaine, I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time," a too cheerful voice came through the phone line.
Carly grimaced. She was pretty sure Beth had been up for hours also. She probably had to go to the gym before her doctor husband headed off to the hospital. "No, of course not. How are you?" she lied.
"I'm good I just got Kensi down for her morning nap. Listen, I have an extra ticket for In & Out; I guess I need less flaky friends. Anyway, Mark isn't on call tonight and I was actually looking forward to getting out of the house. I know that is pathetic so I was wondering if maybe you haven't seen that yet and wanted to go with me?" Beth asked.
Carly's first instinct was to say no, just like she had to Monica. She wasn't entirely convinced that Beth's desperate desire to see a mediocre film wasn't because it had been Ned's plan B to keep her occupied after she turned down Monica's invitation. Of course, while pathetic, there was also something sweet about Ned looking out for her. Anyway, she supposed that movie theaters had popcorn and gummy bears which had to be better than whatever was Monica's heart healthy plan for the Quartermaine table so perhaps she should just go with it. "Ok," she finally said.
"Great! Would it be totally lame if we went to Café Decadence for dinner before? Mark should be home by six so I could pick you up a little after that and we could eat and then go to the 8:30 showing?"
Well, I guess I get to delay tackling the range for another night, added bonus, Carly thought. "No, we can do dinner. Ned is out of town at that FDA hearing."
"Great! I'm so glad this is working out. I know you're probably humoring me because I'm family but I guess all of these flaky friends have made me a bit shameless. Don't worry, I'm completely not a flaky friend!" Beth rambled.
Carly decided it wasn't time to tell Beth that she probably was a flaky friend herself. Instead she forced what she hoped was a good-natured laugh. "You're fine! I really want to get to know Ned's family better and with our kids so close in age I'm sure they will be growing up together," she said.
"You don't know how nice it is to hear you say that. Don't get me wrong, all of the Quartermaines have been so wonderful but I'm really the only one who hasn't rushed right back to work after having the baby so it is a little different for me," Beth said.
Carly wasn't sure how to respond to that. She wasn't sure if she had been able to make it through law school that she would be giving up a law career to change diapers. "I think I understand," she said.
"Yeah, I think you do. I'll see you around six. I'm really looking forward to it," Beth said. Wails in the background punctuated her words.
"It sounds like naptime is over. I'll see you at six," Carly said.
"Yes, I better go get her. I will definitely see you at six," Beth said.
After she hung up the phone Carly reflected on the overheard wails. She really hoped her son would not cry like that. She would quickly lose what little sanity she had left.
***French Translations, if you want them:
"So sorry for the intrusion, miss. We will get her out of here!"
"Where will you take her?"
"Mr. Chanel said that these areas were restricted and all intruders should charged with trespassing."
"Perhaps there is a bit of a mistake. I am sure Ms. Coe just got lost looking for the public viewing area for the show. Could you just direct her there?"
"So, you do know her?"
"A little, my great aunt is from Port Charles, New York."
"Alright, as you wish."
"Alright"
"And you, do not cause any more commotion!"
"Do you actually know her?"
"Yes, hopefully I don't regret this."
"No good deed goes unpunished, right?"
"True!"