Monday, November 15, 2004

Adair Suites: Lorenzo’s Penthouse

It was just after seven in the morning when Lorenzo’s quiet breakfast was interrupted by frantic banging on his front door. He wiped his mouth and stood, waiting for his guard to come in from the foyer to tell him who had disturbed him this early. It had better be for a good reason, he thought absently. He hadn’t slept much the night before—had waited up until the early morning hours to hear from his men about Diego’s whereabouts. There had been nothing.

Instead of one of his guards, a small flash of dark skin and dark hair rushed in. “He’s gone!” Maria Sanchez blurted. “He was supposed to be in the hotel room this morning and he’s gone!”

Lorenzo sighed and took his daughter by the shoulders and gently steered her towards the sofa. “Sit, take a breath.”

“I can’t!” Maria’s darkeyes flooded with tears. “He’s gone!”

“Maria, when did you even get to town?” he asked gently. “What happened to your last foster family?”

“I don’t know why that matters,” Maria choked. “Diego is gone. I have to find him—you have to help me.” She gripped the lapels of her father’s robe. “Please, Papi, please!”

Lorenzo closed his eyes and felt something inside him shift. She’d never called him Papi before and he knew she used the word now only to get him to do her bidding. But it would be worth finding the little bastard if only it meant Maria would stay with him.

“All right,” Lorenzo agreed. “But you must tell me who financed his bail.”

Maria pulled back, shifted her eyes to the side. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You don’t have the resources for ten thousand dollars. Even the bank account I have given you does not have that much money and never did. Where did you get the money?”

Maria licked her lips. “Why does that matter?”

“Because I must know,” Lorenzo stated. “Tell me, Maria.”

“It was his foster mother,” Maria said quietly. “Courtney Matthews gave me the money and Diego promised to stay in the hotel room when I went to get dinner but he was gone when I got back. You have to find him!”

“I will find him,” Lorenzo promised. “But you will stay here until I do so. Where I can keep you safe. After he is found, you will tell me when you got here and where your foster parents think you are.”

Kelly’s

Elizabeth had already ordered breakfast for herself and was feeding Cameron strained peaches when Jason arrived for their breakfast meeting. She’d taken a back table in efforts to minimize exposure. It would be the first public outing for the three of them and she was in no hurry to gain anyone’s notice.

“I ordered you coffee since I know you don’t eat breakfast,” Elizabeth told him, nodding towards the pot next to his cup.

“Thanks.” Jason kissed Cameron’s forehead before sitting down. “So, he’s over the cold?” He asked after a moment, unsure of how to proceed.

Elizabeth sipped her milk and nodded. “Better than ever.” She cracked her knuckles under the table.

Jason shifted. “The services are on Tuesday. For Adella.” He hesitated. “I was hoping you could come.”

Elizabeth’s eyes softened and she reached across the table to touch his hand. “Of course. I’ll leave Cameron with Grams for the day—she’s been asking for more time with him.” She sat back and nibbled on a piece of toast. “I spoke to Monica about the baby shower. I’m surprised she’s so enthusiastic.”

“She just hopes this will bring me back to the family,” Jason said. He exhaled slowly. “I don’t like to disappoint her but that’s not going to happen.”    He took a long swallow of coffee. “You sure you’re okay with it being held at the Quartermaines? Any party they have ends up in the papers.”

“It’s fine. It’s probably better that way. Everyone will know at once and we won’t have to keep answering questions for months,” Elizabeth replied. “I was wondering when you might want to move your things over—to the cottage, I mean.”

“Let’s—let’s hold off on that just for a bit,” Jason said uneasily. “Sam’s coming home next week and I want to make sure she’s settled before I make any new living arrangements.”

“Okay, I understand.” Elizabeth blew out a slightly exasperated breath. Just because she understood didn’t mean she liked the idea of the two of them still living together. She trusted Jason and she trusted Sam, mostly. But they were both in a vulnerable state right now and she was wary of the whole situation. “So I guess that means you won’t be spending the night either.”

“Elizabeth,” Jason began but a shadow fell over their table before he could attempt to explain himself. He looked up and very nearly sighed. “Courtney,” he said warily.

“Well, if it isn’t the home wrecking slut and my ex-husband,” the blonde remarked scathingly. She crossed her arms and glared at them. “I’m not surprised you couldn’t wait to throw this in people’s faces—”

“Courtney, please don’t use that kind of language in front of my son,” Elizabeth said quietly.

“Your son,” Courtney sneered. “You mean Jason’s son?” Her eyes flew to Jason. “I knew it–I told you last year that if you wanted her, you should go to her. But you chose to stay with me. But I always knew that you only married me because you couldn’t have her.” Her gaze raked over Elizabeth. “I don’t see the attraction a pale, skinny little twit like her myself but I guess some guys get off on constantly having to rescue the pretty little damsel in distress—”

“If you say that with a straight face, you’re a better actress than I gave you credit for,” Elizabeth broke in quietly. “You can’t solve a single problem yourself without leaning on a man so I really don’t want to hear that kind of bull leaving your mouth. Now, please—go away before you make an even bigger fool of yourself.”

“Excuse me?” Courtney fumed. She would have gone on but Mike approached the table at that point.

“Courtney,” her father began, putting his hand on her arm. She shook him off.

“Jason cheated on me when we were engaged!” she told him furiously—her voice loud enough to attract more than a few stares. In fact, every eye in the small diner was fixed on their table. Jason kept his eyes on Cameron and Elizabeth slunk down in her chair.

Mike hesitated and looked to Jason before glancing at Cameron. The father in him warred with the logical side. He’d known Jason and Courtney had been having problems long before they married and while he was furious on his daughter’s behalf, he’d known Jason too long to think he’d cheat with just anyone. “Courtney, this is a place of business,” he said quietly. “Can you just hold it until later?”

“Everyone takes his side!” Courtney raged. “Just because it’s Elizabeth and not some cheap slut he picked up off the street—”

“Courtney, that’s enough.” Jason stood. “Just knock it off and stop playing the betrayed party, here okay? You’re not perfect and you’ve made mistakes, too.” He muttered something under his breath, irritated with his word choice.

Elizabeth’s head snapped up, her face pale. “Mistakes?” she said softly. “That’s an odd way to phrase that.”

“Elizabeth,” Jason started but she held up a hand.

“I don’t want to hear it.” She stood and took a twenty out of her wallet. “This should cover the breakfast, I’m sorry for the scene,” she said to Mike. She shrugged her arms into her coat, gripped Cameron’s stroller and started out of the diner.

“Elizabeth,” Jason followed her out the door.

“Always the victim,” Courtney muttered. She glared at her father and left.

Mike sighed, pocketed the twenty and signaled for the bus boy to clean up the table.

Outside, Courtney stormed out of the courtyard and blessedly decided to ignore Jason and Elizabeth as they argued.

“I didn’t mean you and Cameron,” Jason said defensively. “You can’t believe that’s what I meant—”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore!” Elizabeth exploded, throwing her hands up in frustration. “You say you love me, that you want to be a family, but you won’t move in, you won’t stay longer than five minutes and I don’t think you intend to change that any time soon—”

“I do love you and you were not a mistake, Cameron was not a mistake,” Jason broke in. “Going back to Courtney, marrying her, that was my mistake. I should have stayed and worked things out with you–”

“But you didn’t,” Elizabeth retorted. “You turned and walked away. You always walk away. I can’t keep doing this anymore–” Her shoulders slumped and she closed her eyes. “I need some time.”

“Time?” Jason’s throat closed. “What do you mean, time?”

“Time away from you, away from us. I can’t keep wondering if I’m second prize, if you’re only with me because of Cameron. I can’t keep putting my life on hold for you. I can’t do this anymore, Jason and I won’t.” She gripped the stroller tightly. “Cameron is your son, he will always be your son but I can’t–I can’t be what you need and you refuse to be what I need.”

“No, I don’t accept that–I won’t.” He took a step towards her. “Elizabeth, we’ve come so far–why are you doing this when we’re so close to everything we wanted?”

“Because you can’t see that we’re not,” she whispered. “As long as you keep that distance between us, we’re so far apart; we might as well be on different planets.” She turned the stroller in the opposite direction and walked away.

Jason stood there, staring after her until long after she’d disappeared from sight and her footsteps only a distant memory.

Gatehouse: Living Room

Justus pulled a sheaf of papers from his briefcase and laid them in front of Ned and Lois. “I’ve drawn up the papers to file suit against the New York State Social Service Agency as well Courtney Matthews-Morgan. The suit is pretty straightforward. We’re not asking for a large amount of money because the money isn’t important.”

“That’s right,” Lois nodded. “It’s not about money, it’s about placing a dangerous kid with an unsuitable foster mother.”

Brooke shifted. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable with any of this,” she murmured. “Yeah, I mean, Courtney was an awful choice but she didn’t make Diego…do what he did.”

“We’re not saying she did,” Ned said quietly. “But Social Services have a job to do and by placing a grown teenager with a background like Diego Sanchez with the sister of a known criminal–a former drug abusing stripper, they’re sending a message that they don’t care about the quality of the foster family–just that they’re there.”

“I know,” Brooke sighed. “Will I have to testify?”

“Probably not,” Justus said. “We’re going to doing mostly character witnesses. We’ll put some officers on the stand, those who have dealt with Courtney after her stripping days, when she was accused of hitting Elizabeth Webber with a car. We’ll also bring up her family background–her connection with Sonny Corinthos, her father’s gambling convictions, the fact that she lives in a loft with one bedroom–that she was barely ten years older than the boy she was supposed to care for.”

“I get what we’re trying to do but I don’t want it to hurt the criminal case,” Brooke said. She shifted. “I mean, you see it on Law & Order all the time–the rape victim gets creamed on the stand because she’s suing.”

“That’s true, baby, but we’re not suing the defendant,” Lois told her. “It doesn’t matter–”

“But Brooke has a point,” Justus said. “I was actually going to recommend we hold off filing until after Sanchez is convicted.”

“That’s what I want to do,” Brooke said. “I want to wait.”

Ned squeezed his daughter’s hand. “We’re doing this for you–however you want to handle it. But in the end, I want to change the way they go about their business. I want something good to come from this nightmare.”

“Okay,” Brooke agreed. She smiled weakly and kissed his cheek. “Okay. Then I’ll do whatever I can to help. When the trial is over.”

PC High: Library

Lucas set his books next to Maxie at the back table. “Hey.”

She glanced up and sighed. “Hey, Lucas. I didn’t know you had study hall this period.”

“I don’t.” He sat and opened his Calculus text. “I’m skipping gym to talk to you. But look busy, I don’t want the librarian remembering that I don’t belong here.”

“Okay,” Maxie drawled. “How’s Brooke? Have you seen her?”

“Not since court on Wednesday. But I talked to her on the phone last night. You know Diego was released on bail right?”

“Yeah,” Maxie sighed. “My dad’s barely letting me and Georgie out of our rooms, much less the house. How’s Brooke handling that?”

“She’s doing the best she can I guess,” Lucas sighed. “Anyway, she wanted you to know that she’s sorry you guys fought last week. But she didn’t say what about.”

Maxie tapped her pencil against the table. “I wanted to talk to her—to make her understand why I didn’t come to the hospital at first. I mean, Lucas, my reasons are so selfish, they make me sick. But I thought I owed it to her to be honest.”

“What did you tell her?”

Maxie’s cheeks flushed. “I told her that I was glad it wasn’t me—because you know that I was alone with Diego too. So was Georgie. I know it doesn’t mean that I was glad it was her, but isn’t that what it means, deep down? That I’m glad it was her and not me?” She shook her head. “I’m an awful, selfish person, Lucas and I can’t believe Brooke doesn’t hate me.”

“It does not mean you’re glad it was her,” Lucas argued. “It means you’re relieved you’re safe, that Georgie is safe. Brooke knows that you wouldn’t wish this on anyone. And we’re going to get Brooke through this, I promise. You, me, Dillon, Georgie—we’ve got to be her support system, we’ve got to be her rock. Every day during the trial, we’ve got to be there. And even more importantly, we’ve got to be there afterwards. Brooke needs us more than anyone or anything else in our lives right now.”

“You’re right.” Maxie cleared her throat and sat up. “And we’re going to start immediately. Georgie and I will go to her house today and help her get caught up with homework. Dad will have to let us go there—there’s no where safer than the Quartermaine estate, right?”

“Right,” Lucas agreed. He put an arm around his cousin’s shoulders. “It’s gonna be all right.”

Parking Lot

Diego slid his hands in his pockets and waited in the parking garage of General Hospital. When he’d gotten back to his motel that morning after sneaking a breakfast from a nearby convenience store, a letter had been taped to the inside of his door. Inside, a time and a place had been scrawled in block letters.

Here he was, lurking behind Spot 24, his eyes peeled for any suspicious movement. It wasn’t the cops—it was too soon for them to have found him. But it didn’t rule out his dear old father—lousy son of a bitch who had abandoned him all his life. Diego sneered—he knew Lorenzo Alcazar had never meant all that bullshit about wanting to be a family.

Footsteps came towards him, sounding like someone just shuffling their feet over the rough surface. Scratch, scratch. Diego crouched behind a large red truck and watched as figure hung just back in the shadows. He was tall and slim—even it was even a man. Diego couldn’t tell from this angle.

“I admire you,” a rough deep voice emitted. It was low, to keep it from echoing. “But you were messy, you got caught.”

Diego frowned. “It wasn’t rape,” he said—because he firmly believed that. It didn’t matter what she said—she’d wanted it. He was an expert in matters such as these, and he knew when a girl wanted him.

“That’s exactly right,” the man murmured. He dropped something on the ground and kicked it towards him. Diego reached forward and retrieved a trash bag. “Open it.” Diego obeyed and withdrew a handful of folders and some labeled plastic bags. One read Pink Skirt – 7/16/94.

“What’s all this?”

“I thought you might like to have some fun while you’re on the run.” The man chuckled at his rhyme. “There are some instructions inside—just so you can do me a few favors in return for my goodwill.”

Diego noticed the wad of cash and was all to ready to agree. Except for… “How’d you know where I was?”

“We think alike, you and I.” The man stepped back. “I’ll be in touch.” He faded into the shadows.

Diego waited until his footsteps were gone before making his own escape.

PCMB: Brianne’s Office

“I’ve programmed my phone so I just have to open it and say your name,” Brianne began as she set her briefcase down on her desk. “They installed a panic button in all the offices here after that bombing last year in the courthouse. I promise not to leave my office without waiting for you. So, please—can I have a half hour to myself?”

Lucky folded his arms across his chest. “You’ll call me at the slightest instance?” he demanded. “You’ll press that button even if you only feel a little panicked?”

“Yes,” Brianne nodded. “I just—I need some time, okay?” She took her coat off and hung it on the rack beside her desk. “Just—don’t take this the wrong way, but just go away, okay?”

“Okay,” Lucky agreed. “One half hour. I’m going right across the street to GH. I can be back here in five minutes.”

Brianne arched an eyebrow. “You can fly?”

“Don’t be a smart ass,” Lucky replied as he left.

General Hospital: Administrator’s Office

“Lucky.” Nikolas stood and shifted some files to the side. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Hey—yeah, I’ve been busy with the Sanchez case,” Lucky replied. He sat. “But ADA Joyce wanted some time to herself and that building is more secure than the White House. Panic buttons, metal detectors—so I’m taking a half hour, thought I’d check in on you.”

“I can’t believe he got out on bail,” Nikolas shook his head. “I wonder what strings they had to pull to get that one over the DA’s head.”

“They’re trying to trace the money, track Sanchez down to put a detail on him. We can’t afford to screw this up or we’ll have the wrath of the Quartermaines on us and no one wants that.”

“So you’re staying with ADA Joyce until Sanchez is located?”

“Or until he’s back in jail, Mac’s not sure which.” Lucky shook his head. “Something’s not right about this girl, Nikolas. She’s either cold or lonely and I just can’t make up my mind which.”

“I don’t think I’m familiar with her—is she new?” Nikolas made a mark on his calendar about that afternoon’s board meeting.

“No, but I guess she’s been low-profile until now. She seems to be all about her work, there’s nothing personal in her apartment–it’s like its barren. But I can’t accept that it’s nothing more than a defense.” Lucky shook his head. “There’s just something about her, you know?”

“I can make a few calls,” Nikolas offered. “Get a background check.”

“No, no, that would be like spying.” Lucky shrugged. “I’ll get to the bottom of it eventually. Hey, have you heard from Elizabeth?”

“Since the bombshell? No. Emily’s worried, though. She said something about Elizabeth being miserable again.” Nikolas sighed, slightly exasperated. “I wish I knew what was really going on with her but she’s not talking.”

“I’ll try to stop by the cottage. Maybe she’ll open up to me.” Lucky glanced at his watch. “I better get back to the ADA.”

Port Charles Executive Park: Lainey Winter’s Office

“One set of divorce papers for your client to look over,” Justus announced, dropping the sheaf onto to Lainey’s desk. She glanced up and took them.

“I have to say, this is the one of the weirdest divorces I’ve ever worked on,” Lainey sighed. “They’ve got it all backwards—and did I read their file right? This is their third divorce?”

“Second actually, but third time around with attorneys,” Justus corrected. He leaned against her desk. “Want to compare war stories over dinner?”

Lainey arched a brow. “Are you asking me out?”

“If you have to clarify, then I am definitely out of practice,” Justus sighed dramatically. “Do you want to have dinner with me?”

She sat back and smirked at him. “That wouldn’t be a conflict of interest?”

“Where’s the conflict?” Justus asked. “Our clients are on the same page, they’re in agreement. We’re not even going to court on this one. I can behave if you can.”

Her smile deepened. “Fine. The Cellar at eight?”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

“Have you heard from Diego?” Mac demanded as soon as the door was closed.

Lorenzo shook his head. “No, but I do have some news. His twin, Maria, came to me this morning. She was upset—nearly hysterical. He’s disappeared from their hotel room.”

Mac exhaled slowly. “Well, he was released to his sister’s custody—another anomaly considering she’s underage but that’s for another time. If he’s left her sight and she doesn’t know where he is, that’s considered jumping bail. We can pick him. When we find him.”

Lorenzo nodded. “That’s good to hear. I do have something else for you—the name of the person who financed his bail.”

“Well, that’ll give us an avenue of investigation. I’m just glad it wasn’t you,” Mac told him.

“Maria told me it was Courtney Matthews,” Lorenzo revealed.

Mac sat back in his chair. “I completely underestimated how stupid that girl could be.”

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