Maison Blanche Revisited

Chapter 11: Past Tense

"...and I saved the best news for last, John. You'll be so happy about this. I talked to Kimmie about an hour ago, and she's coming to see you. She's flying in early tomorrow morning. She said, and this is a direct quote: 'Ma, tell that lazy big brother of mine he'd better be awake when I get there if he know's what's good for him.' I'd advise you to heed her words, honey. You know how determined she gets when she wants something. It's going to be so good to see her again... I've missed her so much, and I know you have too.

"Now, I promised to get something to read to you, and I found some authors I know you like in the hospital gift shop. I've got a Dick Francis and a Clive Cussler. I think I'll start with the Francis and leave Cussler for your father. He's a little too strong for my taste. So here we go: Hot Money by Dick Francis. Chapter One."

"Excuse me. Mrs. Brady?"

Caroline looked up from her book to find a pretty, red-headed ICU nurse (Andrea, she believed her name was) standing at the foot of the bed. "Yes?"

"There are some people at the nurses station asking about your son. They say they're friends of his, but I wanted to check with you before we told them anything. Dr. Harris asked us not to divulge any information about Mr. Black's condition without your consent."

"Did you get their names?"

She consulted a scrap of paper. "Kristen and Tony DiMera, Jennifer Horton, Peter Blake and Billie Reed."

"Oh, my goodness," Caroline said, setting the book aside and rising quickly from her chair. "Yes, I know them. In fact, Billie just got engaged to my son Bo."

"Why don't you go talk to them. I was just about to shoo you out of here for a few minutes anyway." She gestured toward the bed. "I need to change his dressings and give him his bath. You can come back in about fifteen minutes."

Caroline nodded and bent down to kiss John's forehead. "I'll be back in a little while, honey," she promised, "and we'll see what Mr. Francis has up his slippery sleeve this time. Right now, though, Andrea's going to give you a bath. Won't that be fun?" She looked over at the nurse with a twinkle in her eye. "She's very pretty, John," she confided in a loud whisper, "and I don't think she'd mind a bit if you opened those beautiful blue eyes of yours and flirted with her a little. Would you mind that, Andrea?"

Andrea smiled. "I'd be flattered if your handsome son flirted with me, Mrs. Brady, and I'd love to see his blue eyes."

"I knew it!" Caroline said triumphantly. "You've made a conquest, John. You'd better hurry and wake up now so you can take advantage of it." She watched his face intently for a few moments, then heaved a quiet sigh when there was no response. "Ah, well, I suppose it was too much to hope for."

The nurse touched her arm sympathetically. "Why don't you go see your friends now. I'll take good care of your son."

"I know you will." Caroline fought back a sudden onset of the tears that still overwhelmed her at odd moments. "You've all been so wonderful," she choked. "It was such a miracle that John came here. I can't imagine him being in better hands." Then she fled for the door, struggling to collect herself before facing John's visitors.

She saw the five of them standing at the end of the long hall: Kristen and Tony, Jennifer, Peter and Billie. Jennifer and Billie were welcome sights. Dear, sweet Jenn, who had been such a help to John while he was raising Carrie and the twins on his own; and feisty, fiery Billie...such a perfect match for Bo. Yes, those two were definitely welcome, but she wasn't so sure about the others. She knew it was wrong of her, but their association with Stefano made her hackles rise. Peter, after all, was the one who had persuaded the D.A. to drop the charges against DiMera, allowing him to go free and carry out his dreadful plot against John and Marlena. And even though Kristen and Tony had been instrumental in saving John's life, she could not forget (and maybe not forgive) how Kristen's obstinate refusal to see the truth about Stefano had led her to betray John's love and trust; nor how Tony, whom she had always admired for his decency and strength of will, could have supported those mistaken beliefs for so long. She was extremely thankful Shawn was in the cafeteria having dinner: a confrontation between he and Stefano's children must be avoided at all costs. While her feelings about the three were somewhat ambivalent, her husband's were anything but. His bitter imprecations against Kristen, Tony and Peter (especially Peter), mixed with violent outbursts against Stefano, had filled the cabin of the Titan jet all the way from Salem to New Orleans. And Shawn could be returning at any moment. She had to get them out of here. Now.

Squaring her shoulders, she hurried down the hall.

The videotaped lunch between Stefano and Marlena was progressing much as Roman had expected. It was served in the ornate study, and just as at breakfast, Stefano did not allow Marlena a moment's peace. He had his hands all over her before she even sat down, and then, as they commenced dining at a small table near the marble fireplace, he proceeded to twist the knife over her broken relationship with Roman. "I have something for you, my beauteous rose...a little token from your soon-to-be ex-husband. Ah, let me amend that. It is not from that cretin who isn't fit to kiss your feet, but it is about him. Remember, I told you he was finding solace with someone else? I know you didn't believe me, so I had my contacts in Salem obtain some proof. Would you like to see it?"

"Not really," Marlena replied colorlessly, spearing a piece of cantaloupe with her fork.

"No? Oh, but my dear, you must. I insist." With that, Stefano thrust a large sheet of stiff paper toward her, and Marlena uttered a little cry, the fork falling from her suddenly nerveless fingers to land on her plate with a clatter.

"I thought you would appreciate it," Stefano taunted. "They make a handsome couple, don't they? Roman isn't much in the brains department, but I must admit, he does have the brawn. As for the young lady, she certainly has all the right attributes in all the right places. And they're all on display. They make a most passionate couple, wouldn't you say, Doc?"

Marlena started to sob, and as Roman clenched his fists, wishing with all his might he could reach through the television screen to comfort her and assure her of his love, while simultaneously smashing the smug, self-satisfied, gloating expression from Stefano's face, Bo leaned over and asked in a whisper, "What's he talking about, bro? I didn't know you were seeing anybody."

"I'm not," he gritted furiously. "Stefano must have doctored a photograph."

"Well, I'd say he did a really convincing job of it, from Marlena's reaction."

"Yeah, damn him."

Their attention was drawn back to the TV, where the grotesque scene continued to play itself out. While Marlena cried as if her heart was breaking, Stefano attacked his lunch with the gusto of a true gourmand. When his enjoyment of his repast was interrupted some ten minutes later by the unexpected entrance of a young guard, his displeasure was clearly evident. "What are you doing here?" he snarled. "You know better than to interrupt me while I'm eating."

"I'm sorry, sir," the guard stammered nervously. "Celeste just received a message from Salem. Count DiMera and his party will be arriving a day early. She says we have to be out of here by this evening."

Stefano scowled ferociously, then rose from his chair, throwing his napkin on the table. "Very well," he snapped. "You and the other men sanitize the house. After you remove every trace of our presence, head for the rendevouz point. Celeste will check your work, so make sure you do it right. You know what happens when she's displeased. Marlena and I will leave as soon as I secure the control room and seal John in his cell."

Marlena, who seemed to have been lost in a daze up to then, suddenly jerked her head up. "Seal John in his cell!?" she shrieked. "What are you doing, Stefano!? You promised me! You promised you'd let him live if I did as you asked!"

"And I'm keeping my promise," he drawled urbanely. "Think back to my exact words. I said, 'If you cooperate with me, John will be alive when we leave this house.' And so he will be. He may not be alive a week from now, but he most certainly will still be alive when we leave."

"No!!" she screamed, jumping to her feet so violently that her chair fell over. "I won't let you do this! You know what I meant! I thought John was coming with us!"

"Oh, my darling," Stefano said mournfully, shaking his head, "it's a good thing you're a psychiatrist, because I'm afraid you'd never make it in business. When you negotiate a deal, you must make sure you cover each point down to the most minute detail. You assumed John was coming with us, but that was never specifically agreed upon. Our bargain stands as is. John stays here."

Marlena stood glaring at him, chest heaving, eyes wild with rage. "I am not leaving here without John!" she spit at him.

"Yes, you are."

"No! I'm not!" Then she reached around behind her, and an iron fireplace poker suddenly appeared in her hand.

Roman's heart almost stopped as the guard reached for his gun, but Stefano waved him back. "Put that down, Marlena," he said quietly, extending a hand toward her.

She skittered out of reach, moving to the center of the room. "Come and make me," she jeered, lifting the poker menacingly. "You have nothing to hold over me now, Stefano. Since you're going to kill John anyway, I don't have to do what you say anymore. I don't have to endure your pawing hands and your slimy kisses anymore. You make me sick... Did you know that? Did you know that I vomit every time you kiss me? Do you know how dirty your touch makes me feel?... I want to scrub my skin with lye you make me feel so dirty. Thank God it's finally over... No more kissing, no more touching. No more listening night and day to your taunts and your threats. Do you hear me, Stefano? It...is...over!"

Stefano's face was red, but his voice was calm. "I hear you, Marlena. I hear you. I'm sorry I hurt you. I only wanted to love you, and to have you love me in return. I never wanted to hurt you." He took a small step toward her. "Please, put the poker down. We can talk about this. It will be all right. I promise."

"You promise?" Marlena laughed hysterically, her voice rising. "You've shown me today just exactly what your promise is worth, Stefano. Absolutely nothing. I'll never believe another word that comes out of your lying mouth."

He moved toward her another cautious step. "What if I get John to a doctor? Will you believe me then?"

She eyed him suspiciously. "A doctor?"

He nodded. "We'll take him with us in the helicopter. We can leave him at a hospital emergency room and take off before the police get there."

While she thought it over, Roman's heart plummeted as he saw a guard with a drawn gun appear in the open doorway at her back, and start to creep stealthily toward her. Look out, Doc! he yelled silently.

Almost as if she heard him, Marlena turned her head and saw the approaching danger. Quick as a flash, she turned back to face Stefano and ran toward him, poker held high in the air. "Liar!" she screamed, aiming for his head. She never reached him. To Roman's horror and disbelief, the guard behind her raised his gun and fired.

Caroline approached the crowd at the nurses desk with a strained smile and unease in her heart. She was still several yards away when Jennifer ran over and hugged her. "I'm so sorry," Jenn whispered. "I'm so very, very sorry. He's going to be all right. I just know it. And Marlena's going to be all right too. You'll see."

"Thank you, dear." Caroline warmly returned the hug of the girl who almost like another daughter, and then looked at the dark-haired, slightly apprehensive young woman who would soon be her daughter-in-law. Her strained smile gave way to a genuine one, and she removed an arm from around Jennifer and held it out. "Hello, Billie. Welcome to the family."

Billie's full lips parted with a sigh of relief and she hurried over to be included in the hug. "Thanks," she murmured. "I was kinda scared you wouldn't like the idea. I'm really sorry about John and Marlena. I wanna help, if I can. You just tell me what needs doing, and I'll do it...anything at all."

Caroline gave her a tight squeeze. "I'll keep that in mind," she assured her, "and I'll let you know." Then she looked over the blonde and brunette heads burrowed against her neck, and met the eyes of Stefano DiMera's children. "Hello, Tony, Peter, Kristen," she acknowledged coolly. "Thank you for coming, but I think it might be a good idea if you left. Immediately. My husband and Victor Kiriakis are not feeling pleasantly inclined toward the DiMera family at the moment. I don't want there to be a scene here in the hospital, if you know what I mean?"

An interesting array of emotions washed over the three faces before her. Kristen was stunned and heartbroken, Tony had a sad look of acceptance, and Peter...Peter was more difficult to read, but to her discerning eye he seemed...guilt-ridden? She couldn't be sure, but it certainly appeared that way.

"Caroline--" Kristen started to speak, but Tony forestalled her. "I'm sorry, Caroline," he said stiffly. "I know we shouldn't have come, but the hospital wouldn't give us any information. We needed to know how John is doing."

"He's still unconscious," she replied quietly, "but he seems to be holding his own. Now, I think you'd better leave. I'll tell the nurses to give you updates when you call from now on."

"Thank you." He switched his gaze to Jenn and Billie. "Are you two staying here, or are you coming with us?

As the friends looked at each other, unsure what to do, Caroline saw the desk nurse motioning to her from the corner of her eye. "Excuse me a moment," she said, disentangling herself from the young women. She went over to the desk.

"You have a phone call, Mrs. Brady," the nurse informed her. "You can take it over there. Line four." She pointed to a black phone at the end of the counter.

"Thank you." She picked up the phone and punched the appropriate button. "This is Caroline Brady."

"Caroline. It's Mickey Horton. I'm sorry to intrude on you at a time like this, but I'm trying to track down Jennifer. I was hoping she might have come to the hospital. I've tried everywhere else."

"She's right here, Mickey. I'll get her for you--"

"No, Caroline. Wait...please. I have some bad news for her, and she's going to need someone to lean on. She going to need someone very badly."

Fear clutched at her heart. "What is it?" she asked quietly. "What's wrong?"

Her old friend gave a heaving sigh. "My father died last night. He laid down for a nap, and when Mom went to tell him about John's surgery, he was gone."

Caroline's throat tightened with grief. "Oh, Mickey. Oh, no. I'm so sorry. He was such a wonderful man. Is Alice all right?"

"She's holding up better than the rest of us," Mickey said gruffly. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you earlier, but you'd been through such an exhausting day, we thought it'd be better to wait. And we didn't want to tell Jennifer until we were sure the roads were passable down there and she could get to the airport right away. We didn't want her to feel stranded there, without anyone to turn to."

Caroline looked over at Jennifer, conferring in a tight knot with Peter, Billie, Tony and Kristen. "I'll make sure she's taken care of, Mickey. And if it's all right with you, I'll break the news to her myself. The Hortons and the Bradys are family, after all."

"Thank you," he said gratefully. "I really didn't want to tell her over the phone. I'd better go now. I think Mom's in the kitchen and I don't want her to be alone."

"Tell Alice I'm praying for you all."

"And our prayers are going out to John and Marlena, Caroline. Good-bye. And thank you again."

"Good-bye, Mickey." Replacing the receiver, she walked over the huddled group. "Jennifer," she said quietly, "would you come sit with me for a moment? I need to talk to you."

"Marlena!!" Roman's howl of anguish shattered the air, bringing everyone in the room running. He tried to reach the TV set, to obliterate the dreadful image from the screen, but Franklin and Bo restrained him. He could only sit there helplessly, watching in horror as his wife's body fell to the floor, scarlet rivers of blood staining her snowy white blouse beneath her left shoulder blade. His teeth bit through his lower lip as the week-old event--and the death of all his dreams--continued to unfold.

"No!" Stefano roared, but he was too late to halt the fatal bullet. He stared at Marlena's motionless body, and then at the trembling guard who had fired the shot. He snatched the gun from the other guard and advanced grimly on his terrified employee. "You have killed my love," he said in a voice icy enough to freeze one's soul. "You were told never to touch her, never to harm her in any way. You have killed my Queen. And now you will pay."

The man backed away fearfully. "Please, Mr. DiMera," he pleaded. "Don't--"

Stefano's bullet silenced him.

His revenge complete, Stefano dropped the gun and sank to the floor, weeping, and gathered Marlena's body in his arms. As he cradled her, the room filled up with people summoned by the sound of gunfire. They watched the sobbing crime boss in silence, unsure what to do, until the platinum blonde African-American woman arrived on the scene. Stefano must have sensed her presence, because he stared up at her with pain-filled eyes. "She's dead, Celeste. Help me. I don't know what to do."

"Sssh, my love," she said softly. "Leave everything to me. Celeste will take care of you." She turned to the uneasy crowd behind her. "Wilhelm, Emile, take Mr. DiMera to the helicopter. Stay with him and have the pilot leave at once for the rendevouz. Come, Stefano." She urged him up, and he rose awkwardly, still clutching Marlena's body. "Go with Wilhelm and Emile," she directed. "I will join you shortly."

As the two men led their dazed employer from the room, Roman had one last glimpse of Marlena, dangling limp in Stefano's arms, and then she was gone. Good-bye, my love, he whispered in the silence of his mind. I will love you forever. And I promise Stefano will pay.

Once Stefano had departed, Celeste began issuing orders like a top sergeant. "All right," she said briskly, "we have work to do. First, remove this thing--" she poked the guard's body with the toe of her shoe, "--and bury it out back, along with the carpet. We'll never be able to get the blood out of it. Then sanitize the house. I will take care of securing the control room, and see to our guest in the basement. We must be out of here by eight o'clock at the latest. Do your jobs right, or you will incur my wrath." Everyone swallowed nervously...obviously, this was a dire threat. "Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked darkly. "Move! Now!"

There were stammered "Yes, ma'ams," and people got to work, carrying the guard's body from the room, and moving furniture so they could roll up the bloody carpet. At that point, Bo and Franklin gingerly loosened their grip on Roman, and Susan reached over and turned off the VCR and the TV.

"She's gone," Roman whispered hoarsely, the salty, sweet blood from his lip filling his mouth. "It's over. She's gone." Someone handed him a handkerchief and he pressed it against his mouth, closing his eyes against the pain in his body and his heart. He heard voices nearby, but couldn't understand what they were saying. Then someone took his arm and pulled him to his feet.

"Cm'on, Roman," his brother said compassionately. "Let's get out of here."

Still in a daze, he allowed Bo to steer him up the steps and through the wardrobe into the bedroom. Bo sat him on the bed and reached for the phone, holding a brief conversation, then levered him back up and out the door to the hall. "I called for the chopper," he explained. "It should be here in a few minutes. Let's wait for it outside."

Roman accompanied him docilely, for lack of anything better to do with the rest of his life. His brain was in a fog of despair and he didn't even notice when they emerged from the house into the evening sunlight. He just followed the tug on his arm, and suddenly found himself sitting on a hard bench some distance from the house. Bo, for some strange reason, was writing frantically in a small notebook. He finally tore out several pages and thrust them at Roman, pointing sharply to the hastily scribbled words.

Roman. Don't say anything until we get in the chopper. I've got a bug on me, and you probably do too.

The fog in his brain evaporated and he stared at Bo. His brother reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny device. Definitely a bug. His gaze flew back to the papers in his hand.

We can talk in the chopper using the headphones. They won't be able to hear us over the noise.

He nodded confirmation, then spread his hands in a questioning gesture. What's going on?

Bo scrawled three words in the notebook and handed it to him.

Marlena isn't dead.

Jennifer looked at Caroline in shock, her eyes swimming with tears. "Grandpa's really dead?" she quavered.

"I'm sorry, honey."

"I have to go home," she sobbed.

"I know." Caroline pulled her into a comforting embrace. "We'll get you a ticket right away. The earliest flight we can find."

"That won't be necessary," Tony interjected from across the little waiting room where Caroline had brought them to break the news. "The DiMera jet is here in New Orleans, fueled and ready to go. Peter and Kristen can take Jennifer back to Salem. It might be better that way anyhow: the fewer DiMeras there are in New Orleans right now, the better. I'll stay here and deal with the investigation...and stay out of the way of Shawn and Victor," he added ruefully.

"Thank you, Tony," Caroline said gratefully. "I'm sorry for the way I sounded earlier. I know you aren't to blame for what Stefano did. And so will Shawn and Victor, once they've had chance to really think about it. It's just that things have been happening so fast, and we're all so tense..."

Tony gave her his most charming smile. "Apology accepted, dear lady. And now, I think we'd better be on our way and get Jennifer back to Salem. Are you ready," he asked.

Jennifer nodded slowly and gave a little sniffle. Peter gallantly handed her his handkerchief and helped her to her feet, stationing himself at her side. Billie gave her a quick hug and a kiss, saying: "I'm going to stay here with Caroline, but I'll be thinking about you." Jenn nodded, and Kristen moved to her other side. The three of them started to walk off with Tony, but they had just gone a little way down the hall when Kristen whispered something to her husband and darted back to the waiting room.

"Caroline," she said somberly, "I know you must hate me for what I did to John. I can never make it up to him or to you, but I'm so very sorry. I was so wrong about everything. Will you tell John I'm praying for him and Marlena?"

Caroline's heart melted in the face of her sincerity. She realized Kristen was punishing herself far more than anyone else ever could. "Of course, I will."

"Thank you."

As Kristen hurried back to her husband, Caroline turned to her son's fiancee. "Would you like to go to the chapel with me, Billie? I'm going to say a prayer for Tom Horton, and for John and Marlena."

"I'd like that very much...Ma?"

Caroline put her arm around Billie's shoulders. "I can see we're going to get along just fine," she said with a smile.

The moment the chopper lifted off, Roman grabbed for the headset hanging by the door and yanked it into place. Bo already had his on. "What do mean Marlena isn't dead!?" he yelled. "You saw the tape! She couldn't have survived that!"

Bo shook his head. "I don't believe it. I think it was all a trick."

"What?"

"I'm not crazy," his brother responded, "I just remembered what John said in his letter. Stefano was going to make us believe Marlena was dead. We all thought that meant an accident at sea or something. But what if he had something more diabolical in mind? I believe what we just witnessed was staged specifically for our benefit, so we'd stop looking for Marlena. Think about it," he urged. "This whole scenario has just been too perfect--not too easy, but not too difficult, either. We break into the secret room and discover the tape of Marlena's 'death'. That isn't something you'd just leave laying around. Someone left it there for us to find, and I think that someone was Stefano."

"But that was Marlena," Roman protested, trying to dampen the hope flaring in his heart. "I know it was her. If it was staged, then she had to be in on it. Why would she do that?"

"To save John," Bo replied grimly. "Tell me, bro, why did you come down here in the first place?"

"I had a lead on a drug courier."

"And that lead took you straight to Maison Blanche. Very convenient, wouldn't you say? We go for over two years without a lead on Stefano's people, and the first one we get brings you to that house just in time to rescue John. Stefano's playing games with us again, Roman. You uncovered that courier because he wanted you to. He wanted you to find John, and to find the tape of Marlena. She knew John was dying, and there was only way she could save him...by pretending to die herself."

Roman's brain was racing a mile a minute as he considered Bo's theory. The whole thing made perfect sense. Once again, Stefano had been pulling his strings, leading him step by intricate step where he wanted him to go. And the plan would have succeeded, if it weren't for John's warning, and his little brother's keen intuition. They had the upper hand on Stefano now, and they had to take advantage of it.

"I believe you," he said slowly. "That's exactly the sort of game Stefano revels in. I say we play along."

"How?"

"Stefano wants us to think Marlena's dead. We let him think he succeeded. To everyone except you and me, Marlena will be dead. I'll play the grieving husband and try to get on with my life. We'll continue to search for Stefano, but I want him to believe we're only looking for him, and not for Marlena. He may just let his guard down a little."

"What about the rest of the family? Can't we tell them?"

"No," he answered somberly. "we can't. I hate like hell to do it, but Stefano's going to expect certain reactions from them. If he doesn't see them, it's not going to work. This has to be all or nothing, Bo. Are you with me?"

Bo nodded, but looked decidedly uncomfortable with the idea. Roman didn't care. This was his best chance to get Marlena back. He had to take it.

to be continued...

© 1998 by Ruth Stout - All Rights Reserved

Background Image Courtesy of Proof New Media Inc. at freeimages.com

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