Friday, November 12, 2005

PCMB: Ric Lansing’s Office

Brianne shifted in her seat. “I don’t care what the court clerk said. There was no motion, there was no phone call.”

She stared at her hands rather than at the district attorney who was currently peering out his window at the busy boulevard street below. “I had no idea Sanchez was even being considered for bail much less that he was out.”

“Something about the entire situation…” Ric shook his head. “I have no doubt that you were unaware, Brianne. Which is why I agree with the Commissioner on this matter. Someone’s using the system to help Diego Sanchez beat this charge. It’s not Lorenzo Alcazar and it sure as hell isn’t Sonny Corinthos.”

“Are we sure it’s not Lorenzo Alcazar?” Brianne questioned. “He is Sanchez’s father and he may have made that scene in the courtroom to throw us off.”

“We’ve been watching him as well. No contact with Diego, no calls to the prison and nothing to connect him to Maria Sanchez. My gut tells me he’s on the up and up on this.” Ric returned to his desk. “Scorpio is putting someone on the principals. This is a big case and I don’t have to tell you that the Quartermaines are going to be pissed if something goes wrong.”

“I understand the ramifications, Mr. Lansing,” Brianne began, “but I hardly think–”

“And that means that Brooke, the Jones girls, Dillon Quartermaines and Lucas Jones are getting round the clock guards. They’re the main witnesses. We’ve also got someone guarding the property room with the evidence. That leaves you, Brianne.”

“I doubt I’m a target,” Brianne said. “If something happens to me, they just get another prosecutor–”

“But it slows the process down. Takes time to get another lawyer up to speed. We’re not taking any chances, Brianne. Mac’s agreed that Lucky Spencer is the best choice. You can work together on the case and Spencer has the best track record when it comes to this kind of work.”

“But, sir–”

“I can understand that having Spencer camp out on your couch is obviously not a comfortable idea so the department thought a suite at a hotel would do–”

“Sir, that’s a major expense and it’s not just feasible,” Brianne argued weakly. “You can’t make me accept a bodyguard.”

“No,” Ric agreed. “But I can remove you from the case and assign someone who will.” He leaned back in his chair. “With your personal history, that might be for the best. I don’t know that this is the type of case you should be prosecuting.”

Brianne stiffened. “I have done an excellent job of prosecuting this case, Mr. Lansing, and it is unfair that a minor incident in my past can be used against me.”

“A minor incident,” Ric repeated softly. “An odd phrase for what happened, Brianne.”

She clenched her fists. “I am not one of those women who do not trust men or that see…a certain someone in every man I meet. I know better, Mr. Lansing. If you feel that having Lucky Spencer guard me is so important to my successfully prosecuting this case, then I will of course defer to you. He is more than welcome to the couch in my living room. As an officer of the law, I am duty bound to trust him, aren’t I?”

“No one’s trying to force you into something that you don’t want to do, Brianne,” Ric cautioned. “We just want everyone to be safe, all right?”

“Fine.”

Gatehouse: Brooke’s Bedroom

Brooke pushed her textbooks away and shoved her hair out of her face. She was more than a week behind in her homework and the way her concentration was going, it was only going to get worse.

She couldn’t seem to focus on anything for longer than a few seconds. She’d read a sentence and her eyes would flick away from the book, her ears tuned to the sounds in the hallway or the ones at the window.

“This is so stupid,” she muttered. She stood and started to pace. “He’s in jail. This is a fenced property with security. He’s not going get to me here. He can’t.”

She was nearly jarred out of her body when someone knocked on her door. “Who is it?” she called.

“It’s me,” Ned said. “Brooke, baby, we need to talk. Can you come out to the living room?”

She bit her lip. “I was doing my homework, I swear.”

“I know–Brooke, it’s important.”

“Okay,” Brooke reluctantly agreed. She pulled the door open and followed her father through the hallway and down the stairs to the living room where the commissioner was waiting. She hesitated at the foot of the stairs. “What’s going on?”

“Brooke,” Mac sighed, “I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” Brooke asked, her voice hitched, her breathing beginning to quicken. “What’s going on? What’s happened?”

“Diego made bail, baby,” Ned murmured. His fists were clenched but that was the only outward show of emotion he could allow himself. If he just let his guard down for a moment, he was sure he would explode and Brooke didn’t need that. She needed his support–she needed for him be calm so she could fall apart.

“Bail?” Brooke said sharply. Her dark eyes flicked from Mac to her father. “I don’t understand. He had no ties to the community, he was a flight risk–Brianne said he would be remanded. I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“We don’t know either but the ADA got a call. He was released on bail before she could get to the courthouse. Now, I don’t want to worry. We’ve got officers guarding the house, and we’re going to put someone on Sanchez at all times, Brooke.” Mac shifted and tried to look reassuring though he didn’t really feel that way. After twelve hours of trying to locate Diego Sanchez in order to put a tail on him, his officers had had no leads. The boy had all but vanished but he sure wasn’t going to tell the victim that. “You’ll be as safe as we can make you.”

Brooke shook her head. “No. He can’t be out. Why does he get to be out? He–it’s not fair!” She hugged herself tightly. “Put him back in jail!”

“We can’t unless he violates the bail agreement,” Mac said apologetically. “I promise, Brooke, we’re going to keep you safe–”

“You can’t promise that!” Brooke cried. “No one can!” She whirled around and flew up the stairs. A few moments later, her bedroom door slammed shut.

Ned exhaled slowly and looked at his old friend. “If I find him first, I don’t make any promises that he won’t need medical attention when I’m done.”

Mac nodded. He was, after all, a father first and an officer of the law second.

Lawyer’s Office

Lainey Winters buttoned her suit jacket and took a seat across from Justus Ward and his client, Sonny Corinthos. She smiled reassuringly at her client, Carly, before looking at Justus. “My client’s demands are quite small. I’m sure we can wrap this up today.”

“Mr. Corinthos is prepared to offer a generous settlement,” Justus began. “Ten thousand a month in alimony, twice that in child support as well relocation resources. All he wants is joint custody with his children.”

Lainey looked at her client, Carly shook her head. “I’m sorry, but my client has made her wishes clear. She doesn’t want any alimony and only two thousand a month in child support. She doesn’t want relocation resources and has no problems with joint custody.”

“Carly,” Sonny sighed. “I know you’re trying to make a point, but you don’t need to sacrifice the luxuries–”

“Mrs. Corinthos makes a good living from her club,” Lainey interrupted coolly. “She’s looking into buying another. She has excellent investments.”

Sonny whispered to Justus who sighed. “My client will be forced to go to court to petition for sole custody if Mrs. Corinthos does not agree to alimony and more child support.”

“Then you’re going to have to do that,” Carly said scathingly. “I don’t want or need your money, Sonny. I can’t believe you’d drag our kids through another custody battle because I don’t want your money.”

“It won’t come to that,” Sonny said confidently. “You’ll see reason.”

“If you petition for sole custody, I can promise you that I won’t hold back this time,” Carly declared. She stood. “I won’t protect you on the stand. I will tell them about the nervous breakdowns, the car bombs, the guns in my face—you don’t want to tempt me, Sonny, because if it comes down to it, they will give me custody over you every time.”

“You’re forgetting your own brush with insanity,” Sonny said quietly.

“I’m not forgetting anything,” Carly retorted. “Ferncliff was over seven years ago and my little stint in Shadybrooke is easily explained away by the fact that my husband shot me in the head!”

“She’s right,” Justus said softly. “No judge that’s not being bribed is going to give you those children.”

Sonny stared at him in disbelief. “So now you’re on her side?”

“I’m just giving you my legal opinion.” Justus shrugged. “You can’t change certain facts, Sonny. Carly would win a custody suit.”

Carly nodded. “And I don’t want it to come to that, Sonny. I don’t want our marriage to end like this. Let’s be adult about this.” She took her seat. “I understand that you want the boys to be taken care of, looked out for. I understand and appreciate that, but they’re my children too and you have to trust me to know what’s best for them.”

“And what’s best for them is to have their own home—” Sonny began.

“What’s best for them is to be with family and Mama is family,” Carly interrupted gently. “They love her and she loves them. She’s changed her schedule so she can be with them when I’m not. I don’t need a nanny when I have a live in baby-sitter. Sonny, the best thing for them is not to change anything else. They’re happy with living at the Brownstone.”

“What about giving Carly what she wants,” Justus suggested, “but write in an addendum that if at any time, she needs more child support, alimony or relocation resources, Sonny will provide it.” He looked to Sonny for his approval.

“I can live with that,” Sonny said.

“Carly?” Lainey prompted.

“So can I,” Carly agreed. Her eyes found Sonny’s across the table. “Thank you, Sonny.”

General Hospital: Kristina’s Room

“I bet you can’t wait to go home,” Steven remarked as he shined a light into Kristina’s eyes. “Probably so tired of hospitals, you could puke.”

Kristina giggled and reached for the stethoscope hanging around his neck. “Gimme!”

“Ah, ah,” Steven wagged his finger. “Can’t play with that.”

“You’re no fun,” Elizabeth said from the doorway. She sighed dramatically. “Always taking my toys and putting them away before I could even play with them.”

“Hey, Lizbits,” Steven said. “Did you need something?”

“Nope, Alexis said Kristina was up for visitors.” Elizabeth approached the crib-like bed and waved at the little girl. “Hey, I bet you don’t remember me.”

Kristina shook her head. “Nope!”

“I’m Elizabeth,” she said. “Your mommy and I have been friends for a long time.”

“Mama!” Kristina perked up. “Where’s Mama?”

“She has to sleep sometime, poppet,” Steven murmured. He unwound the stethoscope from his neck and raised the metal piece to Kristina’s chest. “This is going to feel a little cold.”

“I tried to call Mom and Dad today,” Elizabeth said quietly. She met her brother eyes. “Hung up before it even started to ring.”

“You have to tell them sometime,” Steven said absently. He shined the light again and watched as Kristina’s eyes followed it.

“I know,” she sighed. “But it’s not as though it’s the easiest news to impart.”

“Just try telling them bluntly,” Steven suggested. “Mom, Dad, I have a son and his father is a mobster with a part-time sort of second girlfriend.”

Elizabeth scowled. “You’re not amusing.”

“Neither is the situation.” Steven put the light back into the top pocket of his white coat. “Well, Kristina, guess what?”

“What?” Kristina asked brightly. She reached again for the stethoscope. “Gimme!”

“You are doing much better,” Steven told her. “Do you feel better?”

“Better than what?” the toddler asked, puzzled.

“Ah, the ability to forget that which is painful.” Steven grinned. “Your mom will be back soon, Princess.” He raised her call button so she could see it. “See this?”

She nodded.

“Press this button if you need anything, okay?” Steven directed. “Can you repeat that?”

Kristina nodded. “Press button if I need candy.”

Elizabeth grinned. “She’s obviously got her priorities set in the right place.”

General Hospital: Monica’s Office

After leaving Steven to explain once again to his young patient the purpose of the call button, Elizabeth headed to Monica’s office to ask for more details about the mysterious baby shower that Jason had mentioned.

Monica was marking charts when Elizabeth knocked on the open door. “Elizabeth!” Monica stood and immediately crossed the room to envelop the young woman in a warm embrace. “I was hoping to get a chance to speak with you!”

Elizabeth patted the other woman’s back awkwardly. “Jason said something about a baby shower—”

“Right, right, of course.” Monica pulled away and motioned for her sit on the small couch. “I just—I was so thrilled when Jason told me about Cameron. Part of me always wondered because Cameron looks so much like Jason did as a baby, but I always thought it was wishful thinking.”

“Well, I’m just glad you’re so happy,” Elizabeth replied. “My parents live in Europe, so it’s nice that Cam will have a set of grandparents here, as well as my grandmother.”

“So, the baby shower,” Monica clasped her hands together. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a baby in the family we could really celebrate—I think Dillon was the last baby. I’m just so thrilled.”

“You really don’t have to,” Elizabeth said. “Cameron has everything he needs—”

“Nonsense,” Monica dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “Baby showers are for the mother anyway. They’re usually one last hurrah before the insanity of a newborn but for you, it can be a little vacation.”

“That does sound nice,” Elizabeth agreed. “If you’re sure it’s not any trouble—’

‘Trouble?” Monica laughed. “A chance to celebrate Jason and his family? No trouble at all.”

Elizabeth smiled uneasily. “Okay then, whatever you’d like to do is fine with me.”

General Hospital: Sam’s Room

Sam was staring at the television screen listlessly when Jason entered her room. “Hey,” she murmured as he took a seat next to her. She flicked the talk show off. “What’s going on?”

“I just wanted to clarify a few things,” Jason told her. “You’re staying in the penthouse for a while right?”

She sighed heavily. “I don’t really want to, Jason. I don’t want to be dependent on you like that.”

“I understand but you’re still not one hundred percent,” Jason explained. “I don’t want you in some seedy motel room out job hunting. Just—just stay until you find another place.”

“If you insist.” Sam shifted. “The services on Tuesday…who’s planning that? You or Sonny?”

“Sonny’s handling most of it,” Jason said. “But I’ll pick you up from the hospital, take you home—on Monday. Do you want me to pick you up for the services?”

“Yeah…I mean, if that’s okay.” Sam closed her eyes and leaned back. “Are you staying at the cottage?”

Jason shook his head. “No. I—I’m at the penthouse right now but I’m going to find an apartment or someplace to stay.”

Sam’s eyes flew open and she sat up gingerly. “Are you serious?”

Jason exhaled slowly. “I haven’t told Elizabeth I’m not moving in so—don’t say anything to her.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” Sam shifted and winced a little. “Jason, why aren’t you moving in with your son, with Elizabeth?”

Jason sat back and looked away, towards the blank television screen. “Because things might not work out between us,” he admitted finally. “They never have before and I’m not about to screw up Cameron’s life more by letting him get used to having me there and changing it later. When—if—I move in, I want it to be permanent.”

“I don’t understand,” Sam murmured. “If you love her and she loves you, then why wouldn’t it work?”

“Sonny loved you. You loved him,” Jason reminded her.

“Yeah, but he was married,” Sam said, exasperated. “And still in love with Carly, to boot. There are no such circumstances here.”

“What about Jax?” Jason said instead. “Or what about Courtney? Or Robin? Or the last time Elizabeth and I tried this?’ He shook his head. “I just want to be careful.”

“Well, I’d find a better way to explain this to Elizabeth when the time comes,” Sam advised, “because it just sounds like you don’t trust her to stay.”

“I just don’t want to hurt her anymore,” Jason said quietly.

“I’m not sure you can avoid that if you go this road,” Sam replied.

Brianne’s Apartment

Lucky set a duffle bag on the brown leather sofa and eyed Brianne who was edging towards her bedroom. “I’m sure it’s not going to be for long.”

“No, right,” Brianne nodded. She gestured towards a closed door on her left. “This is the bathroom, you can see the kitchen. Um—I’ll be in here.” She shifted. “Good night.”

She closed her door behind her and Lucky frowned, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was barely eight p.m. in the evening. Surely she wasn’t going to sleep already?

ADA Joyce was definitely wound tightly, Lucky decided. He unzipped his duffle and removed a small stack of manila folders. At least he’d have some quiet to get some work done.

He sat on the couch and set the folders on the oak coffee table, glancing around at the sparse furnishings of the nicely sized apartment. It was an excellent section of town, he noted, but rent didn’t come cheap. Probably why she had only the bare minimum—a sofa, a coffee table, a television stand and a table with two chairs in the kitchen.

Or maybe she just didn’t really live here, Lucky thought absently. Young ambitious career-minded people tended to live in their jobs. God knows, he did. He had just the room above Kelly’s, preferring to spend most of his time either at the station or on the job.

But even he had a few personal belongings scattered around the room—photos, memorabilia—just something that said that he lived there. If Brianne had anything of the sort, it was locked tightly behind her bedroom doors.

And if not—he wasn’t sure if that made her one of the loneliest people he’d ever known or just one of the coldest.

← Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fifteen →