Secrets, Lies, and Other Acts of Love
Chapter 8: Finders Keepers
Somewhere unknown:
With any luck she will be dead within the next two hours Emily calculates as she
sits on the stone cold floor of the windowless room. She is still dressed in the pajamas
and robe she put on yesterday morning, when she woke up after a long and traumatic
night to find Helena Cassadine waiting for her in the living room, a gun leveled at
Lucky’s head. By threatening to kill herself, and thereby prevent Helena from finding
Emily’s young son, the Cassadine heir, she had managed to convince Helena to take
Emily and leave Lucky alive, That was almost 24 hours ago.
She had forced Helena to wait almost that long before she would tell her where
Jonathan was. The long jagged bruise under her left eye was proof of Helena’s
displeasure at being thwarted. But Emily had hung tough, determined to give Lucky
enough time to find Jonathan and get him to safety.
Please god let him be in time, she whispered. It had been a risk, to give away
Jonathan’s location with Helena in the room but she had had no choice. She could only
hope that Lucky had caught on and realized that Jonathan was in San Diego. Of course
he had no idea where Jonathan was and she had stupidly been unwilling to give him a
name or an address. But she had to have faith. If anyone could track Jonathan down on
the scant amount of information she gave him, it would be Lucky.
He’d better hurry because she was running out of time. One hour ago she had been
forced to give Helena a location. She had told her an address in Seattle where they had
stayed two years ago. She figured it would take them another 30 minutes or so to figure
out that she had lied to them. That she had given them a fake address. She figured she
would have less than an hour to live after that.
If she was lucky.
If she wasn’t, then God only knew what Helena had planned for her. Emily’s
imagination had no problem conjuring up the possibilities, all of them involving incredible
pain. As sick as she is, as weak as she still is, there is no way that she will be able to
stand up under pressure from Helena for long. She will end up betraying her son in the
end.
“Find him, Lucky, “she whispered wordlessly, knowing that Helena had cameras
trained on her at all times, “Find my son and make sure he’s safe.”
She didn’t mind dying as long as she knew he, no they, were safe.
Chula Vista- Just north of San Diego:
It took Lucky 7 hours and 32 minutes to track down Emily’s son. It had been
relatively simple, time consuming but simple. He had used his lap top to access Emily’s
grade school records, cross referenced the female names of her classmates with married
woman in the San Diego area, and came up with a list of 30 names. A quick check of
license plates (accessed through the California DMV) had revealed that out of those 30
more than half were too old or too young, four were widowed, and two recently divorced
judging from property records kept by the county. Really, by the time he had narrowed
down the paper trail there had been only two choices....Catherine Wright in Chula Vista
and Lindsay Harris in San Diego. He had guessed Catherine and he had been right.
He leaned back in his rented car as he watched Mrs. Wright lead three small children
down the sidewalk in front of her. Two girls and one small boy. He caught his breath.
That must be Jonathan. he guessed that she was taking them to the park he had noticed
driving here. He waited a few minutes for them to get ahead of him and then drove to
the park to wait for them.
What did he do now?
He couldn’t just go up to her in the park and say “You don’t know me but I’m here to
pick up the child you’ve been watching for Emily because the people who were chasing
her caught her thanks to my carelessness and now I’m afraid that they’ll force her to tell
them where he is so I need to move him to someplace where its safe before that happens-
and the safest place I can think of at the moment is the home of one of the East Coast’s
most ruthless mobsters.”
Lucky shrugs. She will have called the cops before he could finish the first sentence.
Lucky looked through his rear view mirror. The woman and the three children were
entering the park. It was now or never. He reaches into the glove compartment of the
rental car and pulls out the gun he has placed there and checks to make sure its loaded.
“I guess it will have to be a kidnapping,” he whispers as he opens the car door.
Port Charles:
It’s a good thing he and Jason are friends, Luke thinks as he watches Jason on the
phone. Jason as an enemy scared the hell out of him.
He had gone to Jason as soon as Lucky called with the news that Helena had taken
Emily. Luke winced when he thought of the torment in Lucky’s voice. It reminded him of
his own inner demons whenever he stopped to think about the time that Helena had kept
Laura hostage on that damned island. And considering that he never really stopped
thinking of that time, he had a pretty good idea of how broken his son was going to be if
they didn’t find Emily. Luke had seen his son fall to pieces once, three years ago when
sweet Lizzie had died. As far as Luke was considered, once was enough. They were
going to get Emily back come hell or high water. Judging by the determination on
Jason’s voice he wasn’t the only one who thought so.
“Thanks,” Jason spoke into the phone. “Let me know when you are ready.” He hung
up the phone.
“Any word from Lucky?” Jason asked. Luke shook his head. Jason swore in
frustration. He found himself staring at the tile on the ceiling sightlessly. Helena had
Emily. Helena was ruthless, cold-blooded, and capable of doing anything to get what she
wanted, She had even killed her own son. Emily had something that she wanted very
badly. He hoped and prayed that Lucky’s mysterious stop in San Diego was for what he
and Luke thought it was. Because he couldn’t make a move unless he knew that Emily’s
son was safe.
But, and this Jason vowed silently, once he knew that Emily’s son was safe..he would
move heaven and hell and everything in between to get Emily back safely. And if they
were too late, if anything happened to Emily, then Helena Cassadine would pay with her
life.
He was almost looking forward to it. Helena had cost Emily too much already. It was
time she paid the price for once.
Chula Vista:
“Mrs. Wright?” Lucky approaches the young mother at the picnic table. The
children are playing at the playground 50 or so feet away.
“Yes?” Catherine looked up and smiled at the young man in front of her. “Can I
help you?”
“I hope so,” Lucky comes closer. “My name is Lucky Spencer. I’m a friend of
Emily Bowen’s. I’m here for her son.”
“I’m sorry,” Catherine can’t completely hide her startled reaction. “I’m afraid that
I don’t know and Emily Bowen. You must have me confused with someone else.” She
gets up and starts to leave.
“Mrs. Wright,” Lucky grabs her arm. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to scare you.” He
opens his jacket so that she can see the gun in his holster. “I don’t have a lot of time to
explain. But I am a friend of Emily’s. And its imperative that I take Jonathan with me”
“My husband is a cop,” Catherine begins nervously. “All I have to do is call him.”
“He will never make it in time,” Lucky finishes for her. He smiles, but the smile
doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Mrs. Wright, if you think I’m scary just wait until you see
the people who will be coming for Jonathan any minute now. Next to them I look the
Pillsbury Dough Boy.”
Catherine looks at Lucky carefully. She remembers the name Spencer in a few
letters Emily wrote her after she first moved to Port Charles. But she also remembers
Emily’s adamant instructions not to tell anyone who Jonathan’s mother was. Truth to tell,
the last time she talked to Emily, just a few days ago, Catherine had gotten the
impression that Emily might never come for her son.
“Where is Emily now?” Catherine asks, noting the look of pain that crosses the
young man’s face.
“She’s in danger. A lot of danger. But I can’t go help her until I know that her
son is safe. The longer I wait, the less safe he is and the more danger she’s in.”
Silence and then Catherine walks away from Lucky and calls the children.
“Do you need to pack anything for him,” Lucky asks, hating to wait but knowing
from experience how important possessions are when you are a small child.
Catherine shakes her head. “You see that backpack he has with him.” Lucky
nods. “Everything he owns is in that backpack. His clothes. His mother’s picture. His
favorite stuffed animal. Everything. He carries it with him everywhere he goes. He never
unpacks. He never leaves it behind.” Green eyes meet blue. “Emily is my friend Mr.
Spencer. She and that little boy deserve better.”
“I agree,” Lucky responds softly. “Em deserves the best. Always has. Once I get
her out of this mess, I’ll see to it that she gets it.”
“I hope you can.”
Before the children arrive, he gives Mrs. Wright cash with the instructions that it might
just be a good time to take her husband and children on a vacation for the next few
weeks.
The children join them and Lucky gets his first look at Emily’s child. He is just
that, Emily’s child Lucky realizes as he can find no real resemblance to Nikolas
anywhere. The chestnut hair, the large brown eyes, the body that’s already tall and lanky.
The boy is a miniature Emily. He has to blink back tears when he realizes that in
Jonathan’s eyes he sees the openness and trust that was once Emily. But there is a
wariness there too, he realizes.
“Jonathan, this is Mr. Spencer. He is a friend of your mother’s. He’s going to take
you to her.”
Jonathan looks at Lucky skeptically. Lucky realizes he was wrong. The skeptical
gaze, the air of distrust, the slight hostility in his stance, all of these things remind him of
that long ago day when he first met Nikolas.
“You can call me Lucky,” he reaches his hand out to the boy. But Jonathan
doesn’t respond.
“My mother told me never, ever to speak to strangers.”
“I know, mine told me the same thing. But your mother and I are best friends so I
think you and I can be friends and its all right for friends to talk to each other.” Lucky has
no idea why he is rambling. Or why he is so incredibly nervous around this child.
“Do you know the code word?”
The question startles Lucky.
“Code word?”
“Uh-huh. I learned about it at a preschool I went to once and mom thought it was
a good idea. So we have a code word. I can’t go with you without one.” Jonathan shakes
his head determinedly.
Lucky searches his mind frantically. A code word...What would Emily use as a
code word....Quartermaine?...Foster?...Annabelle?...Suddenly he realizes what it must be
and smiles.
“Of course I know what the code word is.” He smiles at the little boy. His
nephew. “It’s Paige.”
Jonathan smiles. It’s as a floodgate just let loose. He has his mother’s smile,
Lucky thinks.
Having placed his trust in Lucky, Jonathan makes a quick goodbye to his “Aunt
Catherine” and places his hand in Lucky’s while they head to Lucky’s car.
“Are you really taking me to my mom?”
“Definitely.”
The boy stops. “Is my mother okay?” He looks Lucky directly in the eye. Lucky is
about to give him an automatic “yes”, when he stops. Whatever kind of life Emily’s been
living this young boy has been living it too. “No, ”he answers Jonathan honestly, “No
she’s not but she will be. I promise.”
Jonathan seems to consider this for a moment before nodding.
As they enter the car, Jonathan asks “What kind of name is Lucky? I read a book
about a dog named Lucky once.”
Lucky smiles. Emily’s child allright. “It’s a nickname,” he explains. “My mother
gave it to me.”
Jonathan seems to consider that answer for a moment. “That’s okay,” Jonathan
says comfortingly, “My mom once tried to call me Jono. But after a week or so I made
her realize how silly that sounded. Maybe I’ll talk to your mom for you. I’m pretty good
at getting moms to do what I want”
And for the first time in at least 24 hours, Lucky actually laughed.
Someplace Unknown:
Dante was wrong. Hell wasn’t a series of circles that kept getting worse and
worse as you went through them. Hell was anywhere that Helena Cassadine was, Emily
decided.
They hadn’t killed her, unfortunately. Helena had managed to maintain that
Cassadine ice coldness and instead ordered her chained. So here she was chained to the
wall of some wanna be dungeon waiting for whatever came next. “I wonder how Helena
explains this room to her architects” Emily thought as she looked around her trying to
stay calm. Her arms were bound above her head. The pain was excruciating considering
her earlier wounds were far from healed. She was dizzy and nauseated from lack of water
or sleep or food. She had been tied like this for hours now with no visitors, But the
cameras mounted high on the dungeon wall told her that she wasn’t alone.
The door opened. Helena. Please keep me strong, whispered Emily.
“ I hope you’ve had time to reconsider your actions?”
“I would have but I’ve been too busy trying to figure out who your decorator is.
Somebody should have told them that we are already well into the new millennium.
Dungeons are out of style...about a thousand years out of style.”
“As amusing as ever,” Helena responded smoothly, “and as troublesome. We had
a deal and you failed to live up to your end of it.” She reached up to trace a finger down
Emily’s cheek, “I wonder how I should punish for you such disobedience. I suppose I
could just kill you....” she mused, “ but where would the fun in that be. Of course I made
the mistake of letting Laura Spencer live and look what kinds of problems that caused for
Nikolas and mine’s relationship. I should have killed the mother as soon as she gave birth
to the heir. That was my mistake then, I would be a fool to make it again.”
“But as you were so nice to point out to me earlier I do need you alive, at least
until I locate my great grand son. And once I have him, you Emily Quartermaine are
worth nothing to me. I’m sure the child will be devastated at hearing of how you died,
but I’ll be there to console him. And to raise him to appreciate his true heritage as a
Cassadine.”
“Just like you did Stefan and Nikolas?” Emily spat out, fighting the thundering
going on in her head.
“Stefan,” Helena flicks a speck of dust off of her silk blazer, “Stefan was an
aberration. A throwback. A Cassadine with a conscience.” Here eyes narrow. “Nikolas,
Nikolas is a boy. A foolish boy playing at being a grown up. He is more of a clown prince
than a crown prince. He doesn’t have a hope of stopping me once I have my hands on his
son. Your son.” Helena motions to the guard who has entered with her. He steps
forward. In his hand he holds a whip, long and deadly. Emily knows immediately what it
is for.
Somehow she makes it through the first lash without screaming. But there is
another. And another.........
