Maison Blanche Revisited

Chapter 14: Black on Black

THE SIGN ON THE OFFICE DOOR was simple and discreet. All it said was "Dr. Marlena Evans". Marlena had wanted it that way, Roman recalled, as he ran his fingers over the raised letters of the nameplate, because unfortunately, so many people still harbored deep seated prejudices against the mentally ill. She had successfully argued before the hospital board that emblazoning the word "Psychiatrist" under her name could drive away potential patients who desperately needed help, but were too ashamed or embarrassed to be seen going into a psychiatrist's office. She had won that battle, as she had so many others, and Roman prayed that her fighting spirit was still intact despite the horrors of the last two months.

Don't give up, Doc, he entreated her silently. I'll find you, I promise. I know I've failed you in the past, but that'll never happen again. You have to hang on, sweetheart. We all love you and need you so much. Sami, Carrie, Eric... Mom and Pop... me. And your other "family" needs you too. Little Belle and Brady... and John. He's still alive, Marlena. You were so brave, my love, fighting for his life the way you did. And now you have to fight for your own.

Please, God, he sent his thoughts heavenward as he closed his eyes and made the sign of the cross, give her strength. Just let her come out of this alive and well and I'll do whatever you want. I pray that we can start over, can be a family again, but if it is your will that she be with John, then I will abide by your decision. I love her enough to let her go, if you can just give her the strength to hang on until I can find her. And give me the wisdom, Father, to defeat Stefano DiMera once and for all. Help me finally put an end to this monster who has destroyed so many innocent lives. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, amen.

Opening his eyes, feeling strangely at peace for the first time in months, he was about to reach for the door handle when a familiar voice spoke from behind him. "Excuse me, Roman. I need to talk to you. It's urgent."

"Sure, Mickey." Turning to his old friend, he saw a face which looked just as drawn and fatigued as the one he had seen in the mirror that morning. "I'm so sorry about Tom," he said regretfully. "I meant to come and see you, but I had to....well, you know..." He shook his head with a deep sigh.

"Yeah. I know. And you know how sorry we all are about Marlena." Roman was nodding, too full of guilt and remorse at the continuing lies to say anything, when Mickey continued. "Actually, it's about Marlena that we have to talk. Marlena and John."

Roman's gut twisted in a knot, but he tried to not let his voice betray him. "We can use Marlena's office. I have to... I have to pack up her things."

Mickey's grief-stricken expression turned to one of sympathy, and Roman knew that he, or someone else in the Horton family, was facing the same unenviable task: Removing all the accumulated bits and pieces that turned a sterile office into a home away from home. Those bits and pieces didn't magically disappear with death, and it fell to family and friends to clear away those cherished reminders so the space could be revitalized by a new occupant. Looking at Mickey, Roman felt like the worst kind of fraud. He was just pretending: Marlena really wasn't dead, and one day, God willing, her personal possessions would be restored to their rightful place. Tom Horton's never would.

Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, he opened the door and went inside, where his entrance was noted by a pair of red-rimmed, tear swollen eyes. They belonged to Heidi, Marlena's loyal secretary. "Oh, Roman, Mickey," she choked, dabbing at her tears with a damp tissue, "I'm so very, very sorry. I just can't believe this. Dr. Horton and Marlena were such wonderful people. How can they both be gone? It doesn't seem real."

"I know, Heidi," Roman said with a catch in his throat. He'd been getting the same reaction all morning; the entire hospital staff was in a state of shock over losing two of its brightest lights at the same time. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off," he told the distraught secretary. "I'll lock up here when I leave."

"You don't mind?"

"No. Go on home. Spend the day with your kids; tell them how much you love them. Marlena would like that."

"She would, wouldn't she." Heidi gave him a watery smile, which threatened to disappear in a new flood of tears as she thought of Marlena's children, who would never again hear their mother say that simple but most powerful of phrases "I love you." Before the dam could break, she grabbed her purse from beneath the desk and fled out the door, leaving the two men staring after her.

"Well," Roman murmured, "why don't we go on in." Opening the door to Marlena's inner office, he gestured for Mickey to enter first, then followed, closing the door behind them. He couldn't bring himself to sit behind Marlena's desk, opting instead for the sofa and overstuffed chairs which made up the small conversation area. When they were both seated, he prompted his friend. "What's going on, Mick?"

"Before we start, I have to know John's condition. Everything we have to discuss hinges on that. Has there been any change since yesterday? Any improvement at all?"

Roman shook his head. "None. I talked to Ma about an hour ago and he's still unconscious. They're calling his condition 'critical but stable'." He paused a moment, then continued quietly. "The doctors haven't confirmed it yet, but Ma said some of the nurses told Kimmie they think he's in a coma. They don't know when, or if, he'll ever wake up. They said he could be like this for years. Ma's really scared."

"Damn. That's exactly what I was afraid of." Mickey swore under his breath, a frown creasing his brow, then a look of determination settled over his features. "Okay. We have to move fast, Roman, really fast. You have to get Bo back here as quick as you can."

Oblivious to being the subject of a discussion hundreds of miles away, Bo Brady reached for the phone  in the study at Maison Blanche, carefully averting his gaze from the spot where Stefano had so artfully arranged Marlena's "murder". His brain knew she wasn't dead, but his heart still ached at the horror of seeing her fall to the floor, of that scarlet stain spreading over her back. Repressing a shudder, he consulted a page in his small address book, then dialed a Salem number, hoping unrealistically that no one would answer. This was one conversation he definitely wasn't going to enjoy.

The phone was answered on the fifth ring. "DiMera residence. Jennifer Horton speaking."

"Jenn?" He was startled, to say the least. Knowing her as well as he did, he was certain she'd be at her grandparents' house. "It's Bo Brady," he said quickly, recovering from his surprise. "I need to talk to Kristen."

"I'm sorry, Bo." Her voice was so low he could barely hear it. "She can't come to the phone. She just got out of the hospital and Peter's helping her up to bed."

"Hospital?" He repeated in shock. "What happened?"

The whispering resumed. "She fainted and hit her head this morning when she heard Marlena died. The paramedics took her to the hospital. When she came to, she was so hysterical Mike had to sedate her. She blames herself for Marlena's death."

Bo felt like a sledgehammer hit him in the chest. This lie he prayed would lead to Marlena was playing havoc with everyone's lives. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't reveal the truth. His guilty conscience made his words harsher than he intended. "Dammit, Jenn! This isn't her fault! She didn't have anything to do with what happened to Marlena!"

"She knows that in her head, Bo, but right now that's not helping very much. Roman had a talk with her and she seemed calmer afterwards, but I think she's just teetering on the edge. I wish Tony was here. Do you know where he is? I tried calling the lodge but he didn't answer."

Tony. Bo's heart sank as he suddenly remembered the reason for his call. "Um, actually," he said slowly, "that's why I'm calling. I'm afraid Tony won't be coming back to Salem; at least, not for a while. The police just went to arrest him."

"Arrest him?! Why? What's going on?"

"He knew Stefano was alive," he told her bluntly. "He's known almost from the beginning. Since right after he and Kristen's honeymoon, in fact."

"You mean he's been lying to us this whole time?" Her tone was a mixture of shock and confusion. "But why? I don't understand. Tony hates what Stefano does, what he stands for. Why would he lie for him? And how did the police find out about it? Did they find something implicating him at Maison Blanche?"

"The police found out because I told them. When he heard about Marlena, Tony admitted everything to me in an attack of conscience he probably regrets now. As for why he lied..." Bo sighed heavily, hating to disillusion his young friend. "Jenn, you have to understand something right now, before you get more involved with the DiMeras than you already are. They lie. I think it's bred into their genes, right along with a selfish streak a mile wide and an ego the size of Mount Everest. Tony's a DiMera. For him, lying comes just as easy as breathing. He knew if Kristen found out Stefano was alive she'd leave him for John, so he just kept quiet."

The rage which had boiled over when Tony made his confession came bubbling to the surface again. "Dammit, Jenn, he was my friend! I trusted him! Marlena and Roman trusted him! He played us all for fools! Tony DiMera is just like his father! He doesn't give a damn what happens to anyone else so long as he gets what he wants! He wanted Kristen, so he let Billie go on trial for a murder he knew Stefano was responsible for, and he didn't say a thing! He let her go through hell, and words can't begin to describe what he let happen to John and Marlena!"

There was a gasp at the other end of the line. "He knew what Stefano was doing at Maison Blanche? Oh, dear God, this'll kill Kristen!"

"No!" Bo exclaimed quickly. "No! I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. Tony says he didn't know Stefano was holding John and Marlena, and I believe him. But they wouldn't have been here if he hadn't lied, so indirectly, he is responsible, and he knows it. And there's something else, too."

"What?" The word was full of despair and worry for her fragile friend.

"Tony had documented proof over six months ago that Stefano was the one who brainwashed John. Instead of going to John or Kristen with it, he confronted Stefano. Stefano admitted it was true, then  convinced Tony to destroy it. Kristen never saw it."

There was a long silence. "What happens now?" she asked finally. "What are the police going to charge him with?"

"I don't know everything yet, but they're going to start with obstruction of justice, tampering with evidence, concealing evidence, and aiding and abetting a fugitive. Those are serious enough, but if they decide he was involved with what happened here, they could add conspiracy charges of kidnapping, assault, infliction of great bodily harm, attempted murder, and murder."

More silence, then slowly, reluctantly, "I guess I have to tell Kristen, don't I."

"I'm sorry, Jenn, I really am. But it's better that she hears it from a friend, than over the news."

"I know you're right, this just couldn't have come at a worse time."

"She'll make it, you'll see. With friends like you and Billie, she can make it through anything." He paused briefly. "I have to go now, but I wanted to say one more thing. Please be careful of Peter. He's Stefano's lawyer, and a DiMera in every way but blood. I can't believe he didn't know what was going on. I think he's involved in this up to his neck, and I don't want you to get hurt." He continued over a sputter that  signaled the start of an outraged protest. "Please, Jenn. Just be careful, that's all I'm asking. If you can't do it for me, then do it for Hope." He knew he had her at the mention of her beloved cousin. The bond between Jenn and his late wife had been extraordinary. More like sisters than cousins.

"All right," sighed the object of his concern, "I'll be careful. For Hope. Goodbye, Bo."

"Bye, Jenn. Take care."

No! she told herself sharply. Stop it! Don't go there! You're going to make yourself crazy with maybes and what ifs. It's in the past, and what's done is done. What you have to do now is move forward. You have to be strong. Kristen needs you to be strong.

Another thought struck her. She had to be strong for Kristen, but who was going to be strong for her? She couldn't rely on Peter anymore, not since Bo's warning. As much as she wanted to disagree with him, she knew he was right to be wary. She didn't want to believe it, but it was entirely possible her new lover had been sucked into his adopted father's criminal world.

Even as the realization tore at her heart, she smiled faintly, thinking of Bo's concern. Hope had been so lucky, and now Billie as well, to have found such a wonderful life's companion. Her dear friend didn't want her to be hurt. Unfortunately, that was already well beyond his power to prevent; she was in love with Peter Blake, and if she discovered he had been involved in any way with the horrors at Maison Blanche, she would be just as devastated as Kristen was going to be in a few minutes.

Standing at the foot of the long staircase, her eyes traveled up towards the second floor. Devastated or not, she had a job to do. A job she couldn't delay, no matter how much she wanted to. Resolution stiffening her spine, she started up the stairs to destroy what was left of her friend's world.

The urgent tone in Mickey Horton's voice struck a chord of fear in Roman. "What do you need Bo for?"

"He has to sign some very important papers."

"What papers? What's going on?" 

Mickey sighed. "You know I'm John's attorney, as well as Marlena's." Roman tilted his head in confirmation. "Well bear with me, because this is a little complicated. John was afraid something might happen to him, so before he went to New Orleans, he and Marlena had me draw up papers concerning guardianship of Belle and Brady. If John died or was incapacitated Marlena would have sole custody of both children, and vice versa. Thankfully, they also took into account another scenario, the one we unhappily find ourselves in now. If both of them are dead or incapacitated, Bo becomes the children's guardian, with Victor appointed trustee to handle their inheritance."

"That makes sense to me," Roman said, "but I don't understand what the rush is. Couldn't this wait until we know a little more about John's condition?"

"I'm afraid not. Unfortunately, there's a barracuda out there who would just love to get her teeth into those kids and their inheritance, and this would be a perfect opportunity."

The light suddenly dawned. "Vivian," Roman muttered.

"Right. I don't know if she's heard about John yet, but she probably knows that Marlena's dead. Bo has to accept guardianship of Belle and Brady ASAP. We have to beat Vivian to the punch and show the court that the children are being well cared for. Because I don't have a doubt in the world that this is going to wind up in court."

Roman frowned. "Maybe I'm being a little dense here, but if John and Marlena wanted Bo to have custody, what grounds does Vivian have to challenge that. She can't prove the children are being neglected. I saw them just yesterday. They're being showered by love and attention by the entire Brady, Kiriakis and Reed/Roberts families. And Marlena's parents are arriving this afternoon. I think they would have a big say if Vivian tried to challenge Marlena's wishes."

"I'm afraid it's not going to work like that. There's a tricky little legal point here which very neatly negates Marlena's role in this. When she died, no matter what his condition, sole custody of Belle and Brady reverted to John. And that's where Vivian's going to get her foot in the door. I'm 99 percent certain she's going to challenge John's mental competence to make legal decisions for his children."

"What!?" Roman was astounded. "That's ridiculous. John drew up those up those custody papers before he was injured. He was perfectly competent. I may have problems with some of the things he's done, but he loves those children more than anything in the world. He's a great father!"

"You know that, and I know that, but a judge may see it differently. Vivian's got a lot of ammunition: The brainwashing, the amnesia, almost no memory of his past, what he was, what he did. How would you look at all that if you were a judge, with no knowledge of John on a personal level?"

Roman did look at it, and didn't like what he saw. "My, God," he breathed. "You think she might actually have a case? But what about the other side? I mean, Vivian's not a model of mental stability herself. She did bury Carly alive, after all."

"And that's a point in our favor," Mickey replied. "I'm just afraid she'll call in the really big gun: Lawrence. I know they're on the outs, but Lawrence would make a deal with the devil himself to regain control of Alamain Industries from John and Victor."

Lawrence Alamain. A wave of hatred ran through Roman as he thought of everything John's vicious, scheming, older brother had done to his friends and family. Steve Johnson's death could almost certainly be laid at his door; he had raped Jennifer Horton and tried to seduce Carrie, who had been saved only by John's timely intervention; he had stolen Carly from Bo. The list seemed endless. And Mickey was right: Lawrence might hate Vivian for keeping his son from him for so long, but he hated John even more, and he would see it as the perfect revenge to have control of John's children and his fortune.

Roman bolted from his chair and grabbed for the phone on Marlena's desk. No matter what else he ever did in his life, he would not let those innocent little babies be raised by Lawrence Alamain.

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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