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Date Posted: 15:38:04 05/02/03 Fri
Author: dqfan
Subject: Re: Ghosts - ch.50
In reply to: dqfan 's message, "Re: Ghosts - ch.48 & 49" on 15:42:32 05/01/03 Thu

CHAPTER FIFTY


"Peter…"

The whir of excitement in the casino was deafening. Peter could hardly hear himself think - not to mention the fact that holding onto Ivy by the wrist was a little like taking a tiger for a walk on a shoelace.

Still, amidst all the turmoil, Peter could have sworn he heard Sophie call his name.

"Peter…"

The voice had changed now. "Oh, Charity, it's you." Disappointed, Peter turned to find Charity beckoning him.

"Did anyone spot you leaving?" she asked, hurrying into the lobby.

Peter shook his head, distracted. "No. You?"

Charity smiled faintly. "Harry's sitting with Ben. He promised me he wouldn't leave his side until I returned."

Enraged by Charity's coy self-satisfaction, Ivy twisted in Peter's grasp. "And you say I use men?" she railed at Peter.

"Who's the whore now, Charity?" Ivy taunted, lunging for Charity's throat.

"Why, you little…" Charity's strength was formidable when provoked.

As Peter struggled to keep them both from killing each other, the elevator doors opened. Gus' thoughts on the way down had been a jumble of emotions as he contemplated the sketch he held in his hand. Was he doing the right thing? Would it save his hotel from Ivy's clutches? And, how long would it be before Harry O'Neill discovered there was a warrant out for his arrest - even if it was bogus? Finally, why was he risking his life over a married woman he'd known for less than a week?

That last question was the one that bothered Gus most. Resting against the elevator wall for a moment of solitary reflection, he'd been startled from his reverie by the sight of his ex-wife, with her hands around Charity's throat. Rushing to Peter's aid, Gus raced into the fray. With Lila's sketch in one hand, Gus grabbed Ivy firmly around the waist with his other, lifting her off the ground as easily as King Kong did Faye Wray.

"Oh, yeah, nothin' like a good ole catfight in the lobby to increase business, I always say…" he grumbled, yanking Ivy, kicking and screaming, off into a neutral, and relatively quiet, corner.

Impressed, Peter followed Gus into the alcove, reprimanding Charity sternly for good measure.

"So, you've got everything under control, I see…" Gus quipped to Peter, removing his hand from over Ivy's mouth just in time to prevent her from biting it.

Securing Ivy firmly against the wall, Gus thrust Lila's portrait directly into her face and hissed. "Here's your precious painting! Now, shut the hell up!"

Amazingly, that seemed to do the trick, as Ivy quieted, stroking Lila's portrait to unsettling distraction.

"Okay, Ivy, we've given you everything you asked for," Peter bargained. "Now, where's Sophie?"

"Where is she, Ivy?" Gus seconded harshly.

Ivy continued staring at the sketch, tracing the outline of Lila's locket with her fingertips. Seemingly in a world all her own, she taunted softly…

"A tisket, a tosket, where's my pretty locket?" Her question, aimed directly at Peter, infuriated Charity to no end.

"Oh, this is ridiculous, just name your price!" Charity demanded, opening her checkbook and waiting for Ivy to quote a figure.

Contentedly, Ivy closed her eyes and leaned back with a smile. "Your head on a platter," she wished. "You and Peter and Gus and…"

Devilishly, Ivy giggled. "What was her name again? Oh, now, I remember. Sophie."

This time, Peter didn't hesitate and Charity didn't object. He rushed toward Ivy with murder in his eyes. "I'll wring it out of you with my bare hands, I swear it, Ivy!" he began choking her.

"And if there's anything left, I'll finish the job," Gus added, scowling.

"Now, for the last time," Peter tightened his grip. "Where's Sophie!"

"PETER!" Desperately, Reggie rushed into the commotion, Bruno at his side. "NO! DON'T! SHE'S DOWNSTAIRS!"

Stunned, both by Reggie's words and the violence he now knew himself capable of, Peter's hands slipped from Ivy's neck.

"Are you sure?" he mumbled, dazed.

"Positive," Reggie nodded. "We saw them on the security tapes…Sophie and Ivy taking the service elevator downstairs, yesterday morning. About twenty minutes later, only Ivy and Leroy come up."

"But, what's downstairs?" Charity asked, confused.

"The River of Dreams," Reggie answered, helpful as always.

"Nice to see you again, Mrs. M.," he added as a polite afterthought, before noticing that all the color had drained from Gus' complexion.

"Chief?" he called nervously, as all eyes turned to Gus.

"You better hope you're wrong, Kid." Gus shook his head, distraught.

"What is it?" The anguished look on Gus' face made Peter physically ill.

Quietly, Ivy began singing. "Cry me a river…cry me a river…I'll cry a river over you…"

Gus glanced at his watch, his eyes saddening. It had been too long. It was too late…

"What?" Peter noted Gus' expression and felt his knees buckle.

Gus looked squarely at Reggie. "Didn't you tell me that the construction crew started plugging the river at midnight?"

Suddenly Reggie had a really bad feeling about this. "Uh…yeah…why? What does that mean - exactly?" he gulped.

"Gus?" Peter locked eyes with his unlikely friend.

Gus held Peter's gaze and delivered the news like a man. "It means that for the last hour, a hydraulic propulsion unit out back has been pumping water into that ditch at a rate nobody could survive."

"We're too late, Peter…" Gus placed a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder.

"No…" Peter had heard Sophie's voice. He knew he had… If she were dead, he would know that, too. He would feel it.

Sure, he felt cold inside, achy and sick, and scared out of his mind, but he didn't feel…dead. That hopelessness…that finality… His heart told him it wasn't time yet.

"No!" Peter shoved Gus' hand away in a rage. "She's alive and I'm going down there and find her!"

"Peter…" Charity honestly didn't know what to think but she couldn't bear to lose Peter, too.

"It'll be okay, Aunt C.," Peter reassured her gently.

"Well, then I'm coming with you," Charity decided there and then.

"Count me in, too!" Gus took off his tuxedo jacket and threw it on the floor. After a night of inactivity, he was ready for a little action.

"Reggie," Gus commanded his troops. "You and Bruno get out there to the truck. Tell 'em to turn off the damn water! Then, call Detective O'Neill at the hospital and tell him to get his men over here, with backup…and an ambulance," Gus added softly.

"What do we do with her?" Reggie asked, pointing warily to Ivy.

"She's comin' with us…" Sneering, Gus snatched the gun from Bruno's holster before Bruno could object.

Menacingly, he placed the cold metal against Ivy's heart. "You're gonna tell us where you left Sophie or I'll kill you myself…" he vowed, grabbing Ivy by the arm.

Surprisingly, Ivy said nothing at all. She just clutched Lila's painting to her chest and waited. Silence and Ivy were an unnerving combination. Nevertheless, Gus looked toward Peter. Did he approve of the plan?

Satisfied and exceedingly grateful to have Gus on his side, Peter nodded to all his friends.

"C'mon, let's go!"

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Gus had tried to warn Peter what to expect, but the sight still made him recoil in fear. "Oh, God, Soph…"

The noise was deafening as the torrent of water rushed past them. It was as if the Colorado Rapids had been transported to beneath Gus' hotel. One raging wave after another followed each bend of the River with ruthless speed and unrelenting precision. Even Charity blanched at the sight.

"Why so fast?" she shouted to Gus to be heard.

"They charged by the hour…" Gus shrugged, "It was cheaper this way."

"Can we get more light?" Peter yelled as he removed his jacket and attempted to visually scan the area.

"The panel's over here…" Gus flipped a few switches but nothing happened. Frustrated, he slammed his fist against the wall. "The water must've triggered the safety on the circuit breaker!"

"I'm sorry, Peter. The auxiliary lighting's all we've got," he frowned.

"Where are we? London?" Peter squinted until his eyes became accustomed to the shadows. Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament were facing him.

"It's a two mile circle…" Gus explained succinctly. "A different setting every quarter of a mile, eight in total: London, Paris, Barcelona, Venice, Morocco, the Greek Islands, India, and Sydney Harbor."

"Which one is it, Ivy?" Gus aimed the gun directly at her head.

Ivy didn't even flinch. "Eenie, meenie, minie, mo…" Her fingers traveled the length of the gun, until she met Gus' unsteady hand at the trigger. "Wouldn't Gus like to know?" she dared him openly.

Furious, Gus felt his hand shake. Ivy stood there, taunting him, and still he couldn't pull the trigger. Why? Was there really such a fine line between love and hate?

"Would it make a difference if I told you Sophie has Lila's locket?" Peter blurted the truth to Ivy out of sheer desperation.

In reply, Ivy whispered conspiratorially to Lila's portrait. "I don't believe him, Granny. Do you?"

"No…" Ivy answered her own question before Peter could respond. "Granny and I don't believe you. We think you're bluffing."

"But, even if you're not," she added blithely, "and Sophie really did have Granny's locket with her in that lovely little daypack she was wearing…"

Spitefully, Ivy allowed Peter to picture Sophie falling prey to her trap, knowing how it would sicken him. "A little water won't hurt the locket."

"It'll be just fine - down there," she smiled sweetly. With her words, Ivy turned Peter's gaze toward the plunging depths of the River, and the cold, merciless flooding, forming its abyss.

"But, Sophie…" Ivy's smile grew as cold as the water below her. "Poor thing. You'd better hurry."

Peter had never shirked from a challenge in his entire life, especially one as important as this. Steely, he took one last look at the woman who may have killed his wife. Then, taking the gun from Gus, Peter placed it in Charity's hand. "Cover her til we get back…"

Peter hadn't seen his aunt with a gun in her hand since he was twelve. He'd been vacationing at her ranch one summer, helping brand the herd, when a mountain lion appeared out of nowhere and trapped him in its sights.

Sure that his life was about to come to a very short, gruesome end, the next thing he remembered was hearing a shot, whip past his right shoulder. In the second it had taken for his heart to skip a beat, Charity had killed the animal, firing a single bullet into its head. In all his years, Peter had never forgotten the unwavering resolve his aunt had shown that day.

Charity had that same fierce look on her face now. The look that said she would kill for him, without so much as batting an eye. Her talents with a revolver just made it that much easier.

"With pleasure," she assured him, cocking the trigger at Ivy.

Satisfied that Charity had the situation under control, Peter shouted to Gus. C'mon, let's go!"

"Go? Go where?" Gus exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. "This thing is two miles long! Sophie could be anywhere!"

"Then, I guess we're going for our little run together after all." Peter slapped him on the back for luck.

"Oh, Man," Gus grumbled under his breath. "I knew that lie was gonna come back to haunt me…"

"Ready?" Peter checked a nearby utility closet and found some rope and a spare flashlight. It would have to do.

Looping the rope over his shoulder, Peter followed the concrete walkway and began racing along the banks of the Thames.

With a sigh, Gus set off after him.

"I always wanted to see London…"

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"Sophie!" Peter shouted into the darkness.

"Sophie!" Gus echoed right behind him as they neared Buckingham Palace.

"The Queen is dead…" Peter mumbled, stopping for a moment before the majestic site.

"What?" Grateful for the chance to catch his breath, Gus was nonetheless confused.

"That's what Ivy said…" Peter reminded him. "In the hospital…when I asked her about Sophie. 'The Queen is dead, long live the Queen.' That's what they say in England, right?"

"I guess so," Gus loosened his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. "But, if you're hoping to make sense of anything Ivy says or does…"

"My father…" Peter recalled out of the blue. "He was the type of guy, everything he did meant something…."

"Well, for your sake, I hope he wasn't as crazy as Ivy," Gus winced, wiping the water's spray from his face.

"Help me! Think!" Peter insisted, going over and over it in his head. "What else did Ivy say?"

"'Wouldn't Gus like to know…'" Ivy's words chilled Gus even now.

"Huh?" Distracted, Peter had begun to follow the River's edge again.

"That's what she said…'Wouldn't Gus like to know…'" Gus repeated for emphasis.

"Peter, if Ivy's trying to get back at me, then maybe she left Sophie in Paris or Morocco? She knows how I feel about Casablanca..."

"Maybe…" Peter hedged, not wanting to hurt Gus' feelings. But, the Eiffel Tower was coming into view and there was still no sign of Sophie. Besides, Peter was pretty sure that Ivy spent less time thinking about Gus than he did about her. And, while Ivy's thirst for revenge knew no bounds, this vendetta was primarily about Hank and Lila, Charity and Ben, and him and Sophie.

Sophie... What else had Ivy said about Sophie? Peter forced his mind to replay every conversation he'd ever had with Ivy, at breakneck speed. Frantically, his thoughts raced from one moment to the next: the Sahara Sands hotel…Marcello's Restaurant…St. Elizabeth's Hospital.

The hospital…After almost stabbing him to death with a poison syringe, Ivy had the gall to thank him for visiting her…

They were approaching Barcelona now. "Sophie!" Peter yelled at the top of his lungs. "Sophie, Honey, can you hear me?"

This was taking too long. At this rate…

"'How is your lovely wife this evening?'"

As he and Gus entered Venice, Peter could still hear the smugness in Ivy's voice when he'd entered her hospital room.

"Sophie!" Gus called across the piazza.

"'Your wife…" Ivy had said. "'Your beloved…your consort.'"

"Consort!" Peter stopped short before the Duomo, causing Gus to run smack into him.

"Now, what?" Gus barked, exhausted. "Do you see her?"

"Consort…" Peter repeated the word again. "Ivy called Sophie my consort."

"So?" Gus asked, perplexed. "She's called her worse, believe me."

"But, don't you think that's a little weird?" Somehow, Peter felt it was worth the time to think this through.

"Everything Ivy does is weird…" Gus muttered angrily.

"Consort…that's the wife of the King," Peter defined aloud.

"Oh, please, not England again!" Gus moaned, but Peter paid him no attention.

"My consort, the Queen, is dead," Peter stated flatly. "Ivy's been telling me that all along."

"So, that's it?" Gus asked, astounded. Peter sounded so detached, so clinical. He'd just announced that Sophie was probably dead, and there wasn't a hint of emotion in his voice.

"You're just giving up?" Obviously, Gus had been right in the first place. Peter wasn't worthy of Sophie's love at all.

"What do you do when your wife dies?" Peter's sharp, rhetorical question took Gus totally by surprise.

Furious, Gus shot back, "Well, if I'm you, I guess I just go home…"

Gus had expected Peter to bite his head off or deck him with a right hook over that last remark, but, instead, all he received was a vacant stare. Even with the limited lighting, Gus could see the wheels turning in Peter's head.

What was he getting at, Gus wondered, sensing there was more to this than maybe even Peter had discovered yet.

"Right…" Peter nodded blankly, unaffected by Gus' criticism. "I go home, and I grieve, and I mourn my dead wife..."

"The love of your life…" Gus rhymed offhandedly, impatient with Peter and his meaningless ramblings.

"What did you say?" Suddenly, Gus had Peter's full attention.

"Sorry, bad joke…" Instantly, Gus regretted his sarcasm. Ivy's rhyming must be getting to him.

All this time, Peter had been wracking his brains, struggling to recall a moment with Ivy that he knew he should remember. Meanwhile, the words of advice Sophie had received from Michaela tumbled around in his head.

"'She told me if I just thought about it long enough, I had the knowledge within me to figure this out...'"

"No, say it again!" Peter urged Gus, close to the inspiration he needed.

"Your dead wife…the love of your life…" Awkwardly, Gus repeated his rhyme.

"The love of my life! That's it!" Peter exclaimed, hearing Ivy's overly silky voice, grilling him that night in the bar.

"'Do you believe in eternal love and passion, Peter?'"

"Eternal love and passion…" Peter said the words loudly, remembering more still as he pictured Ivy admiring the brochure for the River of Dreams.

"'But, of course, that poor queen had to die for her husband to build it for her!'"

Finally, he recalled their conversation word for word.

Stymied, Gus looked at Peter like he was possessed. "Do you even have a clue what you're talking about?" he barked, exasperated.

"India!" Peter broke into a nervous, hopeful smile. "Ivy left Sophie in India.

She's at the Taj Mahal!"

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