Episode 100

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Episode 100

Scene 1:

"You've put me off for long enough, Maura. I deserve an explanation and you aren't leaving until I get one."

"You don't know what you're asking," Maura volleyed back. "Rick, can't you let the whole thing just stay in the past?"

"You really think I can do that?" Rick stared down at her, anger clouding his eyes.

"You should," Maura replied. "Some things aren't meant to be."

Rick rolled his eyes, throwing up his arms in frustration. "Goddammit, Maura! What is it going to take to get through to you? I just want to know what I did! I spent a year of my life trying to figure out what I had done to make you leave. All I'm asking for is an answer."

"I don't want to do this," she replied lifting her chin stubbornly. "It won't change anything."

"You don't have a choice and I can be just as stubborn as you." He planted himself firmly in front of the door, blocking her only exit. "Is what I'm asking that difficult for you?" He asked, his tone softening. "I loved you like crazy then, you know" His mouth curved into a bittersweet smile. "When I finally realized you were gone, imagine how stupid I felt knowing you didn't feel the same."

"Who says I didn't? Besides, it isn't as if you came after me," she bit back.

"I almost did," he told her. "About twenty times."

"Why didn't you?"

"Why? So I could be humiliated all over again? You didn't want me. You made that clear when you left in the first place."

"Why now then?" She demanded. He'd had years to come find her. Years where she would have gladly taken him back and confessed everything. Now though...everything had changed. Everything was different. She had other concerns to think about, like Jory and the diner. And Jude.

He dropped his guard and paced the room a little, leaving the door unguarded. "Why now," he repeated. "Maura I've been here a year and so far with the exception of two occasions when it suited you, you've made it quite clear you didn't want me around. I've been asking myself for a while now, what it is that makes me stay. For a while there I was convinced it was because of Jillie. But then, that didn't work out as planned, did it?

"Don't blame me for your mistakes with Jillie. If I remember correctly, I warned you not to get involved..."

"Oh God, Maura. Sometimes, I think maybe Jillie is right about you." He shook his head, giving her an admonishing gaze. "Don't be so self-righteous, okay? I'll admit it, I came here with the express purpose of finding you and getting some answers. And if we got back together, even better. I haven't lied to you; I still love you."

"If you love me so much, why are you putting me through this?" She flared, her anger rising. "My life was fine until you showed up. Is this your revenge? Well, congratulations, Rick. You've succeeded in making me miserable."

"God Damn Maura!" Rick cursed through gritted teeth. "Just tell me why you left. I can't believe this is so fucking hard for you."

"It is hard!" Maura returned heatedly. "I went through hell that summer. You think I want to relive all of that? I don't. I put it in the past and forgot about it," she lied. "I don't intend to tell you why I left because it isn't any of your business!"

"It is my business," he returned reaching into his pocket. She recognized her own handwriting as clear as day on the back of the picture as he flipped it around. Her heart sank as she stared at the missing photograph. "I found this in your room that day you were sick. It fell out of a picture of your mother," he explained holding the photo aloft and just out of reach of her fingertips. "Who is this, Maura? And does she have anything to do with me?"

Scene 2:

"...Jory stands a good chance of coming out of the coma." Those were the only words to register as Jillie pushed her way into the ICU. She didn't even wait to hear anything else the doctor would say. Maura was always better with the technicalities, anyway. Right now, she just wanted to spend time with Jory.

She slowed as she neared the bed. He still didn't look like himself. Instead he was pale and wan and looked so much smaller than usual. But that was all going to change. Dr. Stafford had said so.

"I've always known you wanted to steal my spotlight, but I think going about it this way was a little drastic, don't you?" Jillie asked rhetorically, pulling up her chair next to the edge of the bed. She'd gotten used to this routine and that in and of itself was scary. She didn't want to be okay with this. She didn't want to come into this room, already having accepted that her brother wasn't going to respond. Eye movement, that's what Dr. Stafford had said, wasn't it? She stared hard at Jory, practically willing him to give her some sign - any sign - that he was going to wake up.

That was Jillie, he told himself. And she sounded worried. It was definitely time to wake up. He tried...but his eyelids felt as if they had been glued shut. He tried again but they remained shut. Maybe he could say something, he reasoned. Anything was better than this terminal blackness he was in. If he could hear his voice, maybe she would as well and stop being so worried. Jillie. There...he'd heard himself. Barely, but he'd said it. He tried again, but realized there was something in his mouth. God, what was that? A tube? He made a strangled noise of frustration.

Jillie jumped back in surprise, looking around illogically to see if anyone else had heard or seen that, but of course, the only other person in the unit was the nurse all the way on the other side of the room. "Jory?" she whispered before leaning over him. "Calm down," she murmured soothingly. "Everything's okay, just calm down."

She had heard him. Okay, now if he could open his eyes.... He tried again, managing at last to pry them open. The room was bright and he blinked hard to keep the fluorescent lights from burning his eyes.

Should she call for someone? Yes, she knew she should. But if she did, they might try to kick her out of the room. And she didn't want that. As she weighed the options, Jillie saw Jory's eyes flutter open, only to close against the light of the room. All other thoughts slipped her mind, and she sat down again, squeezing his hand. "Hey," she said softly, finding it hard to speak around the sudden lump in her throat. "So you've finally decided to wake up and grace us with your presence, huh? It's about damn time."

His eyes rolled towards Jillie, the tube in his throat stopping him from telling her to quit being so dramatic. About time? What was she talking about. He squeezed her hand back realizing a little too late that it was weak and rather pathetic. He lifted his free hand, motioning to the tube. He wanted it out.

Frowning, she nodded, glancing over her shoulder at the nurse. "Excuse me?" she called. "Nurse? I think we could use a little help here. It's my brother. He-he's waking up."

The nurse called for Dr. Stafford who appeared immediately, concern etching his eyes. Jory watched as he bent over him, examining him. Jory motioned to the tube again. Dr. Stafford raised his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth jerking up into a surprised smile. "Think you can handle it?" He asked. Jory jerked his head, signaling a yes. "All right then. When I tell you to," Dr. Stafford instructed after checking a monitor, "blow out as hard as you can. Ready?" Jory jerked yes again. "This is only temporary, Jory. All right? Georgia, would you make sure there's an oxygen mask close by? On the count of three Jory. One...two...three." Jory let a gasp of oxygen burst from his lungs. The scraping of the tube made him cough terribly, wasting precious energy.

Jillie smiled, despite his coughing. One less tube seemed to be worth all of the exertion. She watched as Dr. Stafford and the nurse - Georgia? - continued to work around her brother, and soon he seemed to be more comfortable, if still weak.

"How's that?" Dr. Stafford asked. Jory nodded, giving him a weak smile.

"W-water?" His voice was hoarse from the tube but it was a word. Georgia grinned and filled a glass with water, holding a straw for him to drink just a little from. He smiled in gratitude before looking over at his sister, consumed with worry, sitting next to him. "Hi."

"Hi? That's all you've got to say is...hi?" Jillie teased. "Hi yourself. How are you feeling? 'Cause you still look like Hell."

"I feel like Hell," he returned, swallowing hard. "What happened?"

Her face darkened. "There was a fire...at ME. It's gone. But Luke's fine and Hallie's...Hallie." She managed a small grin. "She's actually the one who saved you."

"A fire?" He tried to remember but there was only a blank spot there. "Luke is okay...that's good."

"You don't remember anything?" Jillie asked.

"I know my name," he joked weakly. "But a fire? No..."

Jillie narrowed her eyes. "That's not funny." But she had to grin. No one but Jory could joke around while in his position.

"Sorry," he murmured, exhausted from the exertion of having the tube removed. "As long as every one is okay."

"We're fine. Just worried about you. You had us all scared."

He nodded again, letting his eyes flutter. "Jillie, I'm sorry...but I might need to go back to sleep."

"Don't worry about that. You get your rest. 'Cause next time I come, I'm just going to keep you awake for hours, telling you everything that's happened," Jillie promised. "You just concentrate on getting better."

"I think he's asleep again, Jillie," Dr. Stafford cut in. "Why don't you go tell Maura? Then you two need to get home and get some sleep. He'll be here tomorrow. You can come back and stay as long as you want. All right?"

Jillie nodded. "Okay." She hesitated as she stood up, watching Jory worriedly before turning her attention to the nurse and doctor. "Now that he's woken up...he's not...he won't...slip back into the coma...will he?"

"There is always that possibility, Jillie. But I think he'll be fine. Now don't worry about that. Just go get some rest."

"If it'll make you feel better, I can call you if something should change," Georgia interrupted, casting a sideways glance at Jory. "I'll be here all night anyway."

Jillie nodded. "I would really appreciate that." With one last glance at her twin brother, she left the ICU, watching through the window another few minutes before looking around.

Where had Maura gone?

Scene 3:

Eleanor Fairchild yawned as she handed her golf club to the caddy boy. She could hold her own with any man on the golf course. Pulling the white gloves off her small, delicate hands, a smile curved her lips at the sight of Gwen Mason sitting on the patio of the small cafe. Elle sauntered over. "Oh, Gwen, I must apologize for missing Hallie's wedding. Jeremiah and I were in Europe checking out some horses."

If it had been anyone else, she would have rolled her eyes and dismissed them. But Eleanor wasn't someone else. Gwen smiled sweetly and nodded. "Oh don't worry, Eleanor! It was nice," she added trying not to think of the horrible day. She would never admit that it was anything but nice though.

"So I hear," Elle said with a charmed smile. "And I should have sent out an apology earlier, but we have just been so busy with our horses. I just got back from the Derby in fact."

"Oh think nothing of it! How is your husband anyway? I haven't seen Jeremiah in ages!" Gwen chatted pleasantly.

"He's fine, busy with the horses of course," she replied, resting a hand on the back of am empty chair and leaning casually as she spoke, chatting with one of her hands as always.

"Would you like to join me for an iced tea? Unless you have a round of golf still?" She hated to invite the woman, but it would look bad if she didn't at least offer. "It's just terrible about Chase by the way." She offered up a sincere gaze, hoping the woman would take it as a hint. "Jeremiah must be quite angry."

As delighted as Eleanor would be on imposing on Gwen, she decided against it this time around. "Well, the boy isn't mine," she answered, keeping her tone pleasant, but her eyes darkened. "Jeremiah is rather upset. But, as much as I would enjoy some tea, I have another round." She explained, changing the subject.

"Oh I understand completely!" Gwen plastered a smile across her face, hoping that if anyone was watching they would think she actually enjoyed Eleanor’s company. "I’m actually waiting to catch a glimpse of Augustine Marek’s daughter. She’s moved in already from what I hear. Terrible about Augustine wasn’t it?"

"Yes, he was a good man," Eleanor agreed. "From what I hear she's stunning!" Elle lowered her voice, "A far better decision than letting Iliana or Octavia sink their claws into it."

"Well, stunning and wealthy. I think I need to meet Miss Marek then," Gwen mused. "I think I'll invite her to sit on the board at the Foundation. Since Hallie's moved over to ME, I just don't know what to do with it! It needs a director and I have no time. Didn't I hear that Genevieve was back in town? Do you think she might be interested in taking over?" It was a genuine offer. Gwen had always liked Eleanor's eldest daughter. Once upon a time, she had hoped that Jamie would like her as well. But then, he never
did what she expected.

"Gen's back, the brat," Elle remarked with a casual laugh. "Her and Eth have this cute little house on the outskirts, very Genevieve, you know how she is." Eleanor pondered Gwen's offer. "That seems like something Gen would like. She's already working again at the museum, but she might have time for that." Eleanor flipped her dark chocolate hair over her shoulder, catching a wave from her golfing friends. "If only Gen and Jamie had made a better connection when they were younger," she laughed gaily, "but, she had to marry the McCormick boy."

"I agree with you Eleanor," Gwen offered, knowing that this was a rare occasion for them to agree. "But don't let me waste your time with idle chit chat. You tell Gen to call me at Four Winds. Who knows, maybe Jamie is sick of his wife after all," she added with a laugh.

Eleanor nodded. If Genevieve and Jamie had married maybe Eleanor and Gwen would genuinely get along since Gen and Jamie were probably the only thing they did agree on. "We can only wish," Eleanor replied with a laugh. Jamie's wife, Eleanor had an opinion of her (as she did everything). Michaela Mason was hardly what either Eleanor or Gwen considered wife material for Jamie, nowhere decent enough to be a Mason. "But, I will tell Gen to call you next time I see her, Gwen, take care darling, ciao!" Eleanor said as she sauntered off, smirking at some of the catty looks some lowly socialites sent her. She may not be Gwen Mason, but she was damn close.

Scene 4:

Dinah slipped inside her parents' bedroom, careful not to make any noise, though neither were at home at the moment. She surveyed the room carefully, taking in the neatly made bed and pristine nightstands. That was as good a place to start as any, she decided, pulling the nightstand drawers open. Her father's side was neat and orderly containing only necessities: the book he was reading, his reading glasses, a notepad and pen, and a picture of Kelly and Dinah taken at Disney World years ago. She closed the drawer and moved to her mother's side.

Barbara was not a clean freak if she could help it. Where John Stafford could see, she was neat as a pin. Where he couldn't, she was a slob. It was one of the few redeeming qualities that Dinah could see in her mother. The drawer was a mess filled with papers, cards, and random things that she emptied from her pockets at the end of the day. Dinah glanced over her shoulder, feeling more than a little paranoid about her fact finding mission, and started pulling items out to go through.

There was no guilt involved in her snooping. Her parents had let her down on more than one occasion, always favoring Kelly over her. She couldn't blame them at times. Kelly was always smarter, funnier and prettier than Dinah could ever hope to be. Didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell though. When she and Piper were still friends, they had consoled each other with tales dubiously titled, "My sister is such a bitch." Dinah's stories inevitably told of how her parents took Kelly's side in everything. Piper's were more about not being as good as her sisters. Dinah didn't want to be like Kelly, ever.

She found what she was looking for buried at the bottom of the drawer. Her mother's address book of very important addresses. These were people that were important to her in some way. Aunt Julia's number was there as was her cousin Jack's. If Kelly's number was anywhere, this is where she would find it. She flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for.

She heard a car door slam outside snapping her out of her moment of victory. Looking through the sheer curtains, Dinah watched as her parents climb out of the car. Her father, in particular, looked like he wanted blood. Now would not be the time to get caught in their room. She scribbled the number on a scrap piece of paper before shoving the address book back in the drawer. She bolted to her own room across the hall, throwing herself on the bed and picking up a book, flipping it open randomly. She managed to make it look as if she were absorbed in the book when John threw her door open.

"You have some explaining to do."

Scene 5:

Toni closed the file on Tyler Jones and stared at the wall, deep in thought. Something about him wasn't ringing true. She hadn't reached anyone in his family, the few that she could find at any rate. The ones that she did reach were elusive and secretive. She was positive from speaking with them that he hadn't left town. He was still here, hiding and she was almost as positive that Dinah Stafford was helping them, though that was only a feeling. She had no solid evidence on that. Toni had watched her all day at the hospital but she did nothing out of the ordinary which had been a shame. She would love to trip up Dinah Stafford and bring her down a peg or two.

"Hey, Hamilton!"

She glanced across the squad room towards Gerry Rudsinski. "What?" He held a file aloft in the air, waving it at her. "I can't read semaphore, Boy Scout," she barked.

"This is yours," he called back, with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not your fucking mailman and I don't make deliveries." Toni stomped to his desk, snatching the file out of his hands. "Hey, easy there. You almost ripped my arm off with your mighty strength!" She heard the snickers of the men surrounding him as she walked away, ignoring them as best as she could. She was used to being the butt of their sophomoric jokes. It might be 2002, but for all the good ol' boys on the CGPD knew it was still 1976.

She opened the file, skimming the contents. Tyler Jones' transcripts from Hope, his lease agreement...and what was this? She pulled the last page out and unfolded it. His last phone bill. She flipped to the long distance charges, studying the numbers and cities. California appeared several times. But there at the bottom of the page... She ran her nail underneath the number to the matching city. Miami. Who did Tyler Jones know in Miami?

She picked up the phone, dialing the number. She waited through several rings before someone answered with a breathy hello. Toni could hear loud music and belligerent voices in the background.

"May I speak with Tyler Jones?" She asked.

"What? You'll have to speak up...It's happy hour!" Toni repeated her request louder this time. "You think this guy is here drinking? Okay, wait a minute." She waited for another few moments before a different voice, with a distinct accent came on the line.

"May I help you?"

"Yes," Toni replied turning her back to the others in the room. "I'm looking for Tyler. I haven't been able to get a hold of him in a while and I hoped he might be there."

"I don't know who you're talking about Miss," the man said. "There's no Tyler here. Who is this?"

"A friend of Tyler's," Toni continued, sure that the man was lying. She couldn't be sure of course, all she had to go on was his tone and her instinct. "He gave me this number..."

"Well, you've written it down wrong then. There's no Tyler here. Good afternoon." She replaced the phone and turned back to her computer, running the phone number through. The number, she learned after a few minutes, was to The Flamingo Club located in South Beach. She did a quick search for The Flamingo Club looking for ownership but came up empty handed. That would take a little more digging, she thought, relieved to have a solid lead at last.

Scene 6:

"Hallie?" Luke poked his head into Hallie's makeshift office at The Foundation. It was late, past six and she was still there, still attached to the phone. She glanced up at him, waving him inside as she finished her conversation.

"We're all very sorry about it Max, but Jamie and I are in agreement. ME has to be rebuilt. Please reconsider....All right, fair enough. My husband is here, Max. I'll be in touch." She hung up, smiling at Luke. "Well, this is a surprise. Is everything all right?" She asked, the smile disappearing quickly as the thoughts of Jory occurred to her.

"Better than all right. Good news as a matter of fact. I just got a call from John Stafford. Jory is coming around."

"That's wonderful! Can we see him?" Hallie's face lit up with relief. At least, she was sufficiently sorry for what had happened to Jory.

"Dr. Stafford thinks waiting until tomorrow might be best. He had a scare today and they want to make sure he gets enough rest." Luke scuffed his shoe along the edge of the carpet, dreading what he had come to say to her. After all, he had let this wait long enough. Being trapped with Liza and nearly dying was enough to make him realize what a fool he was being. Jory would use the word idiot.

"What's the matter?" Hallie asked, watching him carefully. "You don't look as happy as you should considering the circumstances."

"Hallie...We need to talk," he began, kicking himself mentally for starting his speech just like his break-up speech to Denise Flanagan in the eighth grade.

"We do, actually," Hallie agreed, pushing a file at him. "Look at that! Can you believe this Mark Guthrie turned me down? He's wasting the chance to design the new ME building because someone hired him for a commercial venture downtown."

"What are you talking about?" He picked up the file, flipping it open to Hallie's request that he submit a design for the new building. Obviously the guy had other work to do. "So, find a new architect. That's not what I wanted to talk about anyway."

"He's the best though and I want the best. I wonder what this project is downtown that he's all excited about...." She shrugged and smiled blithely. "Oh well, I'll just ask Jamie. He knows everything that goes on in this town. Can you believe that? Back a year, and he's better than reading the newspaper. Now, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

"Us."

Her eyes narrowed for a split second before she shook her head as if confused. "What do you mean?"

"Our marriage isn't working, Hallie," he blurted. Her expression of confusion didn't change. "We got married to provide a united front when we needed it during the takeover of ME. Well, you've got what you wanted and I think it's time to reevaluate our decision."

"You're not making any sense, Luke," Hallie countered. "That may have been why we decided to get married, but we both know we went through with it because of how we felt for one another."

Luke gave her a lingering glance of disbelief. What planet was she living on? "Whoa. If I remember correctly, you were sleeping with Stephen Roth just a few weeks before the wedding!"

"I know...and I'm sorry for that. It's just that..." She rose fluidly from the chair, straightening her shoulders as she did so. "It's just that, since the fire...I've come to realize just how much I need you." She took an abrupt step towards him. "I know what I did was wrong. I just want a second chance to make things better."

"Wait." He pointed a finger at her, effectively stopping her. He doubted very much that her feelings had changed so quickly. He knew her all too well to fall for that. No, she had something else in mind and making him believe she cared played a part of it. Of that, he was certain. "What's going on?"

"I don't know what you mean..."

"Yes you do..." The sharp buzz of the phone cut him off. She held up a restraining hand, answering it quickly. He studied her, trying to gauge what she could possibly want from this charade. It couldn't be Roth. He was out of the picture. Or at least that was what he had thought after she had engineered his departure from ME. It could also have something to do with Gwen as well. Those two would be at each other's throats until dooms day. She was definitely up to something, though he didn't quite know what it was.

"Mrs. Wheeler! I'm so glad you called....oh I'm sorry you feel that way. But if you'll give me a moment to explain..." She shrugged helplessly at Luke, mouthing an apology at him. "Now, I know Max Jency thinks Jamie and I are being foolish. But Max Jency is not a risk taker..."

Luke let himself out. She was up to something but he was determined not to get involved. Or let it affect his plans with Liza.

Scene 7:

"Where did you get that?" Maura managed to whisper, stunned at the reappearance of her only photograph of their daughter. She had thought Jillie had taken it. The thought that Rick had discovered it had never occurred to her. "Give it back!" She grasped the edge of the picture, tugging at it but his grip was firm.

"Not until you tell me who she is," he shot back. "She must be someone or you wouldn't hide her picture. Does she have anything to do with why you left? Or maybe it's something to do with her parents?"

"She's very important to me, Rick...that's all...now give it back!" She insisted.

"Her name is Tristen Ford, her parents are Katrina and Bruce Ford. Come on, Maura, I know more about that family than I should. Tell me why you have this picture." Maura swallowed hard and tried to think of something she could say. But what else was there besides the truth? "Why, Maura?" He repeated as the door to the room opened.

Maura breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Jude framed in the doorway. He looked at the two of them, his eyes coming to rest on the picture they both gripped fiercely. He raised his eyes at last to Maura's giving her a questioning glance before stepping into the room.

"What's going on?" He asked, pronouncing his words slowly and looking from her to Rick as if expecting to be told it was the Armageddon.

"Oh Christ," Rick muttered angrily. "Get out of here, Fontaine, this has nothing to do with you."

"Maura?" Jude asked. "Do you want me to go?"

"No. Stay here. Rick, stop being so unreasonable all right?" She let go of the picture, dropping her hands to her sides. "Just give me back the picture..."

"You don't really think I can do that do you?" He tucked the picture back into his pocket. "I won't give it back. It's all I have right now to go on."

Jude stepped between them, going head to head with Rick. "I think you should give it back. She's been through enough; she doesn't need you creating more trouble for her. Unless you prefer to see her in pain?"

Rick shrugged dismissively, staring past Jude at Maura. "Maura has made it quite clear I need to hang onto the picture. I'm not giving it up, Fontaine, so go bully someone else if you want to impress her. It won't work here."

"Give that picture back, Upton. That's the only picture of her daughter that she has...."

"Jude!" Maura gasped at Jude's words. Rick blinked, not understanding for the briefest of moments, until it clicked and his eyes widened in shock. "He doesn't know," she added lamely, knowing it was already far too late.

"You didn't tell him? Maura, I'm sorry..."

"Jesus Christ!" Rick exploded at last, his face contorting in anger. "He knew?! But you couldn't tell me? You are unbelievable, Maura Conlan! Did you think I wouldn't find out? Christ, it was right there in front of me the whole time..."

"Okay, wait, let her explain, Rick." Rick turned on Jude, prodding him in the chest angrily.

"You. Stay out of this... this is none of your business. So go back to your little condo and feel sorry for yourself that you're the heir to the wealthiest family in Virginia, okay?" He spun on his heel, glaring at Maura. "And you. Acting all along as if I were the one causing all your heart ache. Poor little Maura. So, this Tristen...she's mine, isn't she? Answer me."

"Yes," she answered meekly.

"Were you ever going to tell me? Or was that never part of your plan? Forget it. Don't answer that. I think I already know the answer." He backed away from Maura, his shoulders hunching in defeat. "And to think, I was crazy in love with you then," he murmured backing out of the doorway.

She made a move to go after him. It couldn't be left like this! He had to know the full story after all. There was more to it than what he thought. So much more! Jude caught her arm, pulling her back inside the room. She jerked herself free from him, balling her hands into tight fists.

"Let him go, Maura. He needs time to let it sink in," Jude began before she cut him off with a stinging slap delivered with all the force and adrenaline she had. Maura's heart hammered in her chest. This was all Jude's fault, she thought, denying any responsibility. If he hadn't said anything at all, Tristen would be safe in her own memory. If he hadn't said anything at all, Tristen would be hers and no one else's. Of course, Jude was the one to blame.

"Don't," she warned, her voice dangerously quiet. "Leave me alone. You've done enough damage for one day, haven't you?"