As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you’ve followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he’ll say he’s just not the same
And you’ll begin to wonder why you came
– How to Save a Life, The Fray
Saturday, September 27, 2008
St. Timothy’s Church: Chapel
He never heard a gunshot.
Jason faced the back of the church, his gun in one hand, and the other on Bobbie’s shoulder, but the older woman was already shrugging him off and crawling towards the center aisle where Sonny had taken Kate into his arms, begging her to stay with him, to keep her eyes open — blood soaked the delicate fabric of her white gown, but her eyes remained open, pained and strained.
Others in the wedding were screaming—the chapel was rapidly emptying — the sounds of footsteps thundering — there was more screaming when the double doors at the back of the church were blocked — too many people trying to flee to fit at once.
Bobbie broke away from Jason’s hold and crawled towards Kate. Maxie was on her hands and knees wailing, Spinelli holding and rocking her.
Cody strode towards him, gun in his hand.
“What do we know?” Jason demanded. He grabbed Cody by the lapels of his jacket. “What happened?”
“Hard to say — no one came through the anteroom,” Cody said, “but they could have tried to blend in with the crowd—nothing causes a stampede faster than gunfire in a church.”
Jason grimaced, then holstered his gun. “Cops will be on the scene soon,” he said flatly. “Clear our guys as fast as you can. I don’t want any of them held up at the PCPD—” He turned towards the scene at the front of the chapel, concerned.
Kate was still holding on, panting, sweat breaking out on her brow. “Oh, God, it hurts—”
“Just hold on, Connie,” her cousin begged. “Hold on, baby. Help is coming. They’re coming. Hold on!”
Port Charles Airport: First Class Lounge
Elizabeth checked her watch, chewed her bottom lip. It was nearly five. The ceremony wouldn’t be long, Jason had said. Sonny was Catholic, but it wouldn’t be a full Mass because Kate didn’t practice. It should be just about done.
She pulled out her cell, checked the messages. He’d never said he’d call once he was on his way, but now she wished she’d asked him to. Despite all his promises, despite believing them, Elizabeth couldn’t shake her nerves or the conviction that something was wrong.
But she had nothing to support that feeling, and Jason wasn’t even late yet. So, Elizabeth tucked the phone in the bag, and found her dog-eared tourist guide to Italy, one she’d bought a long time ago and had highlighted nearly every line.
Only an hour from now, they’d start boarding, and Jason would be there.
Crimson Pointe: Terrace
Ric strode in from the study, the slam of the door jarring Claudia who’d been doing another sweep of the garden searching for her father.
“Where is he?”
She climbed the last few steps onto the terrace, arched one brow. “Problem, Ricky? Maybe if—”
“I don’t have time for that right now. There was a shooting at the wedding,” Ric snapped, and Claudia fell silent. “Kate Howard was shot as she walked down the aisle. And your father? Nowhere to be found.”
Claudia looked out over the garden, then back at the house. Then at Ric, knowing his thoughts were identical to hers.
“Johnny’s at the wedding,” she said, some of her characteristic arrogance gone. “He wouldn’t—he knows Johnny would be blamed. He knows—” She lifted her fingers to her lips, fought the shudder that rippled down her spine.
What the hell had her father done?
St. Timothy’s Church: Chapel
At first, Johnny hadn’t realized anything was wrong. Kate had passed by them, shining in her ethereal beauty. Lulu beamed at him, squeezing his hand. “Look how pretty,” she’d sighed. “So happy.”
Then everything had gone mad — Kate had stopped at the end of the aisle—she’d jerked—and then blood had begun to spread from her lower back, rapidly staining her elegant white gown as the music of “Ave Maria” had swelled around them, offering a stark contrast to the happiness of the moment —
Kate’s knees had buckled — and then the screaming had started. Spinelli had sprang forward, fighting through the stampede of guests rushing in the opposite direction, desperate to get to Maxie. Lulu had tried to follow. She’d fought Johnny to get past him, trying to get up the aisle, crying, screaming—
But even if Johnny had wanted to follow in Spinelli’s wake, the stampede had only thickened, and Johnny had dragged Lulu against him, his fingers digging into her upper arm, yanking her out of the way of terrified wedding guests —
She’d continued to scream, burying her face into his chest — then someone had bumped him, and he’d gone flying, sending them both sprawling to the ground, trapped between the pews. Johnny couldn’t get his legs to move, to pull himself up, to get Lulu to safety — guests crowded the double doors, banging, screaming, pushing —
And beneath him, Lulu continued to sob, shielding her face from all the sounds, from the horror—
Johnny thought it was the worst sound he’d heard in his whole life — the mixture of the wails from the guests, the yelling of security guards, and Lulu’s sobs —
But no. It wasn’t.
It was the quiet. The stillness that followed when the chapel had emptied, and he realized Lulu had stopped screaming. She’d curled up on her side, her eyes staring blankly at the wooden pew in front her, her cheek resting against the stone floor of the chapel.
Johnny sat up on his knees, reaching for Lulu — she rose with him — but the movements were sluggish, almost as if she were underwater, trying to swim.
“Lu? Lu?” He shook her shoulder lightly, then cupped her face but Lulu was just staring into nothing. She’d drifted away from him, her eyes empty, unfocused —
Johnny looked towards the front of the chapel. Only the wedding party remained — Kate laying on her back in Sonny’s arms, Jason talking intently to one of his guys — Maxie was crying, with Spinelli holding her.
Johnny took a deep breath. He needed to handle this. He had to take care of Lulu himself. “Okay. Okay. We’re going to the hospital, okay?” he told her. “They’ll bring you back to me. Come on.”
Jason left the chapel and headed to the front of the church, to the anteroom that separated the entrance from the chapel proper, determined to search the second floor of the church, particularly the vestibule that looked over the chapel. The shot had come from behind, but his guys had been at the entrance. Had someone slipped in with the guests just as they feared? Had they found a space to hide Jason didn’t know about?
He stopped at the double doors, furrowing his brow at the small space, considering the approach to the second floor.
The wail of the ambulance siren drew closer — mixed with the police — they couldn’t be far away. Jason needed to get upstairs, to see what was going on before he was shut out of the whole thing altogether—
But he hadn’t correctly estimated exactly where the police were — because he’d taken no more than two steps towards the stairs when the front entrance to the church was thrown open, and a collection of uniforms piled through it —
Jason grunted as David Harper, a detective with Major Crimes, grabbed him by the arm and threw him against the wall. “What the hell is going on?” Harper demanded, frisking Jason and finding the gun tucked into the holster at his back. “You got a permit for this?”
“Lawyer,” Jason said flatly.
“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill.” Harper pulled out a cell phone next, tugging it from the pocket of Jason’s tuxedo. “You’re missing a call right now,” he said with a smirk. “Oh, and you’ve got some texts.” He flashed the screen at Jason, whose heart sank. Harper wouldn’t be able to see who was calling him—the notification screen wasn’t set to show the identity, but Jason knew better. It was after five. Elizabeth was calling. He was supposed to be leaving for the airport right now — she was waiting for him in first class.
And he was about to be arrested which meant he wouldn’t be able to call her before they started boarding. She’d probably get on the flight and be in the air before he was released. His stomach twisted at the thought, and he didn’t even wince when Harper slapped a pair of cuffs on him and hauled him towards the entrance of the church.
She wouldn’t even know for hours what had happened. All she would know was that he’d broken his promise.
Again.
Port Charles Airport: First Class Lounge
Elizabeth exhaled slowly as the clock on the far side of the wall crawled towards six when boarding was scheduled to begin. She’d known Jason would be cutting it close, but he traveled more than she did, so Elizabeth hadn’t argued with his plan. But now she thought of all the snags that could have held him up. What if he’d been caught in traffic or in security—
She checked her phone again — but there still wasn’t a reply to her last text — and she saw now from the receipt that it hadn’t even been read yet. Okay, maybe he couldn’t text her, but could he answer the phone? He hadn’t when she’d called at him at five-thirty—
She closed her eyes, bringing the phone to her ear. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four. Five — and the automatic transfer to a voicemail. This time, she left a message. “Hey. Uh, it’s me. Just…getting nervous, I guess. And a little worried,” she continued with a wince. “Will they still let you through security if you get here after boarding starts? Just…call me, okay?”
Elizabeth put the phone back in her bag and shoved herself to her feet to pace the small width of the room, drawing the attention of a few first class passengers. She flashed a polite smile, then went to the large window that overlooked the runways.
Port Charles Police Department: Interrogation Room
Jason dragged his hands through his hands through his hair, glaring at the clock in the squad room, visible through the window next to the door. A few minutes to six. They’d be boarding soon. If Elizabeth got on the plane—
“I need to make a call,” he said to Mac Scorpio, breaking into the argument between the commissioner and his attorney. “Diane, I need—”
“Your lawyer is already here,” Mac said, blandly. “You answer some questions, maybe then—”
Jason hissed. If she got on the plane — if she flew to Italy alone — Damn it. He curled his hands in a fist by his side. “Diane, then you need to make the call—”
“I’m a little busy trying to get you released,” Diane retorted. “Or maybe you want to spend the night in lock up. Shut up, let me work, and you can do whatever you want when you’re out of here.”
“Tell me who you need to call so much,” Mac suggested. “Wanna check on your guys? They’re all here. Cody Paul. Spinelli — we scooped him up when he tried to go to the hospital with Maxie — ”
“They don’t know anything—there’s nothing to know—” Jason closed his mouth when Diane sent a fulminating glare. He just needed to close his mouth and let his lawyer do her job.
And hope like hell Elizabeth would forgive him when he didn’t show up at the airport.
Port Charles Airport: Gate
“Flight LH1068 from Port Charles, New York to Venice Italy, now boarding first class.”
Elizabeth glanced at her watch, though she knew the time inside and out after nearly an hour of staring at it. Six-ten. Jason wasn’t here. He hadn’t returned a phone call. She had a choice to make. Did she get on the flight, hoping that Jason was rushing towards her — that he was so focused on getting to the flight that he didn’t want to waste time by calling her —
She gripped the handle of her carry-on, watching the flight attendant collect boarding passes from the first class passengers, then looked down at hers.
Jason was coming, wasn’t he? If something terrible had happened, wouldn’t he have called? Or—or someone would have. Someone knew where he was supposed to be going.
She chewed her lip, took a step forward, then stopped.
There’d been another wedding day, Elizabeth thought. The first time she’d ever seen Jason Morgan.
Brenda Barrett had been so sure Sonny would show up she’d walked down the aisle first and had waited for him. The doors had opened, and she’d turned, her smile blinding, so certain she’d see Sonny walking over the threshold.
Only to come crashing down.
“Last call for Flight LH1068, Port Charles, New York to Venice, Italy, first class.”
PCPD: Lock-Up
Jason paced the confines of the small cell, ready to come out of his skin. He’d been shoved back here while Diane had gone to war with Mac, threatening all manners of lawsuits — he no longer had access to a clock, but he knew that six o’clock had come and gone — had she boarded the plane? Was she now waiting for him, trapped on the plane? Once you got on, you couldn’t get off without making a scene —
He heard the click of heels and lunged at the bars, clenching his jaw as Diane strode out of the shadows with a uniform behind her. “Am I getting out of here?” Because if he wasn’t, he’d have to tell Diane to make the call, and somehow that felt worse than doing it himself — sending his lawyer to do his dirty work —
“Yes—” Diane gestured at the officer. “Let’s go. Chop chop, little boy.”
“You know, Ms. Miller,” the uniform said with some irritation, “that’s not helping.”
He slid the jail cell door back and Jason stepped out, his hand already extended. “Where’s my phone? Never mind,” he snapped before the redhead could answer. “Give me yours.”
“Thank you, Diane, my only hope—” Diane began, but something in his face must have finally communicated just how furious Jason really was. “All right, fine.” She slapped it in his hand. “Just looking for a little gratitude, you know—”
Jason had stopped listening, his stomach dropping when he realized how much time had passed since he’d last seen the time. Seven-ten. The flight had been scheduled to leave ten minutes ago. Damn it.
He punched in her number anyway and listened to it ring.
Port Charles Airport: Gate
Elizabeth watched as the Lufthansa plane backed away from the gate, the flight tunnel already tucked away. It slowly taxied towards a runway and out of sight. There went her trip to Italy.
And her luggage.
Her phone rang, and she glanced down — found Diane’s number on the identification screen. Elizabeth frowned, answered. “Diane?”
“Elizabeth.” Jason’s voice sounded relieved. “You didn’t board?”
“No.” She sighed again, looked towards the runway though the flight had long since departed. “No.” Not once she’d remembered that terrible day when Brenda had pinned all her hopes and dreams on Sonny showing up and been humiliated.
Elizabeth had been humiliated enough for a lifetime. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m sorry. There—there was a shooting—”
Elizabeth listened as he told her about Kate Howard and how he’d been brought in for questioning. It was a tragedy, of course, and she thought she said all the right things. Sure, she understood. Things happened. Life was unpredictable—
But if she’d been there with him — if she’d been at the church, she wouldn’t be standing here alone at the gate, a boarding pass for Italy in her hands, and the sympathetic eyes of a flight attendant still at the desk.
She promised to talk to him later, though who knew when he’d find time for that. At least he’d remembered to call her at all, Elizabeth thought, sliding the phone back in her pocket. She forced a smile on her face and approached the desk.
“Hey. Hi. What’s the process for getting my luggage back from Italy?”
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