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Date Posted: 03:11:27 04/01/03 Tue
Author: dqfan
Subject: Re: Ghosts - ch.7,8 & 9
In reply to: dqfan 's message, "Re: Ghosts - ch.4,5 & 6" on 10:16:27 03/31/03 Mon

CHAPTER SEVEN

"So, there you have it," Charity sighed as if no other explanation were needed.

"Granddaddy Zack was on his deathbed when he told me. Men on their deathbeds don't lie," Charity pledged, aiming her remark squarely at Peter.

"No, they don't," Peter agreed. "They hallucinate, or they exaggerate, or they tell you what they hoped to be true…"

"Which is why I need the locket, Peter," Charity argued. "To be sure, I'm right. To be sure, it's a match."

"You have the locket?" Sophie asked incredulously. "How?"

"That would be the 'other' version of the story," Peter grimaced, knowing Charity would protest at every turn.

"The locket's been in my family for years, Peter explained. "It was given to Katie Sully by Hank on her first birthday. Supposedly, the initials L.C. stand for his special nickname for her."

"Nickname?" Sophie asked, curious.

"Little Cutie…" Peter smiled with a shrug.

"Guess he had a soft side after all," Sophie laughed.

"Of course he did," Charity huffed. "But he wasn't the type to go around engraving lockets to children!"

"The old goat could lie through his teeth and nobody, even Michaela, ever had the heart to tell Katie any differently," Charity rationalized.

"You think Michaela knew?" Sophie was intrigued.

"Knew…guessed…who can say for sure?" Visibly fatigued, Charity allowed herself to sit on the edge of the rickety cot in her cell.

"So the locket is either a gift from a lost love or a present for a baby…" Sophie sighed. "And Hank may or may not have fathered an entire other family…"

Exhausted, Sophie took her cue from Charity and slid slowly down the length of the wall behind her, catching Peter's eye as she sat more comfortably, cross-legged on the jailhouse floor.

No other words were needed. Seating himself at the opposite end of the floor, Peter had to agree. This was going to be a long night.

Peter rubbed his face with his hands and tried to prepare for the rest of the story. "Okay, what happened next?" he asked.

"Well, there was no time like the present." Charity stated the obvious. "Ben and I left straight away…"

"Ben…" Peter's interruption startled both Charity and Sophie. Frankly, it startled Peter, too, as he realized, quite suddenly, that there was someone missing from this little jailhouse get-together. And so, for the first time that night, Peter thought to ask.

"Aunt C., where's Ben? Why isn't he here?"

Sophie took a good look at Charity. Her face had clouded and she seemed extraordinarily on the verge of tears.

"Charity…" Softly, Sophie begged for an answer.

Peter flinched as he saw his aunt's expression.

"Because he's in St. Elizabeth's Hospital…" Charity replied quietly. "You see, I've been arrested for trying to kill my husband."

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

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Husband!" Sophie exclaimed.

"When did this happen?" Peter asked, surprised she hadn't told them about the marriage.

"It didn't…" Charity sighed. "At least not officially."

"We were in the parking lot of Stanley's gallery, waiting for our cab to the hotel…" she explained. "Ben was already trying to put the pieces together, identify the players… And, he was growing more suspicious by the minute."

"Why hadn't Stanley been there to greet us? Where did the sketch come from all of a sudden? And what did Leighton want with it?" she recalled. "Oh, Ben had a million questions…"

Charity smiled a faint smile, picturing her true-blue Sheriff all riled up on her behalf.

^^^^^^^^^^

"He just don't seem like the typical art lover…" There was something about Gus Leighton that instinctively rubbed Ben the wrong way.

"And I do?" Charity chuckled, trying to make the best of their wait.

"I just don't like it, I tell you," Ben huffed, drawing an arm protectively around Charity.

"But, you're as curious as I am." There was a distinct sparkle in Charity's eye as she playfully fingered the collar of Ben's jacket.

"Maybe…" Ben was about to lean in for a kiss when he noticed Ivy Wilcox coming toward them across the parking lot.

"I was wondering if you'd allow me to join you in Las Vegas?" she asked hurriedly.

"I feel just terrible about what's happened. I know Stanley will be so upset with me," she apologized. "I was hoping maybe I could make it right somehow, explain the situation? I could pack and meet you at the airport…"

"Don't need t'go to any trouble," Ben commented, hiding his suspicions for the moment.

Ivy turned her attention toward Ben. "No trouble at all, Mr.?"

Suddenly, Ben realized that, in the fuss, he and Ivy hadn't been properly introduced. And like all the life and death decisions he made every day, Ben made his next one in a split second.

"Reardon, Sheriff Ben Reardon, Charity's husband…"

With a warm, outward smile, Ben offered Ivy his hand while, studiously, he gauged her reaction. Charity, meanwhile, was simply too stunned to speak.

Whether Ivy was upset by the news, or just by her latest mistake of the evening, Ben found difficult to discern.

"Oh, I had no idea!" she replied, flustered once again. "I haven't seen Mrs. Mitchell…ooops…I mean Mrs. Reardon…since she purchased the Virginia City collection. It's been ages, hasn't it?" she gushed effusively.

"Ages…" Charity smiled through her gritted teeth. Obviously, Ben Reardon had finally lost his mind!

"That's right, you said this would be a second honeymoon for you," Ivy remembered.

To Ben's great surprise and relief, Ivy cheerfully accepted his earlier joke as fact.

"Then, perhaps you'd prefer if I didn't…" Ivy blushed while Charity squirmed at the young woman's romantic insinuation.

"Oh, we'd be much obliged," Ben reassured Ivy, pouring on his considerable charm and receiving her warm attention in return.

"My wife's just dying to see that painting again. Aren't ya, Darlin'?" Silently, Ben's eyes pleaded with Charity to go along with the ruse.

"Dyin'…" Charity repeated ever-so-sweetly.

But, if looks could kill…

^^^^^^^

"I admit, I'd been ready to throttle him," Charity scowled. "But once we were alone in the cab, Ben made me see that if this 'was' some con to bilk an innocent old lady, they'd think twice if she showed up with her sheriff husband in tow."

"Personally, I think he was just looking for another excuse to marry me…" Desperately, Charity tried to make light of the situation.

Peter stood astounded. Never in a million years would he dare characterize Charity Lawson Mitchell as an 'innocent old lady' but he had to admire Ben's courage in suggesting it.

"Ben thought we might have more leverage as a couple," Charity explained. "And he already had a plan. Divide and conquer. He'd continue charming Ivy and I'd go to work on Gus. Together, he was sure we could get to the bottom of it all."

"So, I agreed to the charade…" she sighed, tiring. "And it may have cost Ben his life."

"How's he doing, Aunt C.?" Peter asked softly.

Peter had grown very fond of Ben, holding him in profound esteem by sheer virtue of the fact that Ben and Charity had been a couple now for as long as he and Sophie had been married.

"The Deputy has been very kind, checking in with the hospital regularly for me…" Charity shrugged. "But there hasn't been much word. I was hoping you could…"

"I'll go right now," Sophie offered, rising immediately. "Should we meet back here?"

"No," Peter shook his head, standing to meet her. "I'll get us a room at the Sahara Sands… Might as well meet Mr. Leighton on his own turf."

Sophie nodded and smiled encouragingly at Charity. "I'll call you from the hotel. I'm sure he's fine…"

"Thank you, Dear…" was the most Charity could muster.

Sophie placed her hand on Peter's shoulder. As she leaned in for a kiss goodbye, she could have sworn she felt him flinch slightly at her touch.

"See you soon," he recovered quickly, with a forced smile.

"Sure…soon…" Sophie whispered, perplexed, and very, very worried.

^^^^^^^^^^

CHAPTER NINE

"Did you bring it?" Charity beseeched her godson in a hushed voice.

"It's in a safe place," Peter dodged the question smoothly.

"Tell me how Ben got hurt?" Peter had so many questions of his own, that he scarcely knew where to begin.

"Leighton welcomed all three of us personally, invited us to dine with him in his suite…." Charity thought back to that evening.

"He's charming, Peter…" Charity's mind was a jumble of mixed impressions. "Fascinating and intimidating all at the same time."

"And he's quite the gambler," Charity revealed. "We played at his private table, high rollers only…"

"Sounds like a Lawson to me," Peter smirked.

Charity nodded in agreement. "Ben did a background check on Leighton before we arrived. He won the Sahara Sands five years ago in a high-stakes poker game. It was little more than a cut-rate, run-down, has been, at the time."

"But, since then, he's begged, borrowed, and most-likely stolen, to turn it into one of the premiere hotels on the Strip. Rumor has it that he's close to paying off his final creditors soon. He'll own the hotel one hundred percent - free and clear," she said.

Peter listened intently, forming a mental picture of a man who seemed on the verge of having it all. "So, why waste the time and money right now on a painting that has no meaning for him?" Peter wondered aloud. "Unless he's planning on re-selling it…to you, or someone else…and at a nice profit?"

Charity considered the notion that Gus' only interest in the painting might be financial. "It's possible, I guess," she mused. "The market for early Americana is skyrocketing and Leighton has made a point of displaying a variety of art at his hotel."

"Or, could it be personal?" Peter continued, considering all the options. "Aunt, C., do you think he could be a descendant of Lila Cohen?"

Just the fact that Peter would ask made Charity smile. Despite all his protestations and grumbling to the contrary, Peter was on her side, believing in her, trying to help her, being, as always, the son she'd never had.

Suddenly, all of her quests to find true Lawson blood seemed both foolish and unnecessary. Peter was the only blood Charity would ever need. Still, the possibility had occurred to her and the thought intrigued her.

"But then there's Stanley Morrison or Ivy Wilcox?" Peter delved, trying to keep his mind open to every scenario. "They could be involved, too?"

"I don't know…" Charity had been so focused on Gus Leighton she hadn't really given it much thought. Now, she had the uneasy feeling that she needed to think harder about virtually everything that had happened in the last few days.

"Morrison knew how much you wanted it," Peter reminded her. "He could have tipped Leighton off. So could Ivy… Or, they could all be working together."

"I suppose," Charity admitted weakly.

"Oh, I've made such a mess of things!" Frustrated, she slammed her fist into the cot's worn mattress. "I was so damned sure I could push him into tipping his hand."

"What did you do?" Peter was afraid to ask, but he was even more afraid to hear Charity's answer.

Charity took a deep breath and began to relive it all…

^^^^^^^^

"What made you choose this particular painting, Mr. Leighton?" As the dinner dishes were being cleared by the Sahara Sands' impeccable wait-staff, Charity took a closer look at Lila's portrait.

"Gus, please…" he insisted. "I'm a collector."

He certainly wasn't going to make this easy, Charity thought.

"Of early Americana?" she inquired lightly, and with a smile.

"That. And beautiful women…" Gus winked, appreciating Charity's charm.

"She is beautiful," Charity admitted breezily. "Any idea who she is?"

"No…no, we don't." Ben and Ivy had been chatting amiably when Ivy overheard Charity's question and joined in their conversation.

Studiously, Ben considered whether 'we' meant Ivy and Stanley or Ivy and Gus?

""I'm calling her, Elsie…" Gus answered casually.

"Elsie?" Charity quizzed, wondering what Gus was up to.

With a laugh, Gus pointed to the locket Lila wore in the portrait. "L.C." he pointed to the initials. "Elsie…"

Ben watched closely, riveted by the unfolding scene.

Charity found herself amused by Gus in spite of herself. "Lovely…" she granted him.

"The painting's provenance is a bit murky," Ivy made a brief apology. "Stanley found it at a flea market, I think. The technique is very good, though."

"Flea market," Ben huffed quietly to himself. "Convenient…"

"Mr. Leighton believes this to be an excellent example of The Sarah Wellman School of Art in Denver," she added, leaving Ben to wonder whether Ivy was always so talkative.

"Does he, really?" Charity feigned surprise. "And how would you know that?" she asked, Gus.

"I own several pieces from the Wellman School," Gus replied, smoothly. "They're in storage in Europe at the moment…"

"Too convenient…" Ben muttered under his breath.

"Perhaps Elsie was a teacher there, posing as a model for the students?" Ivy theorized.

"Perhaps…" Charity decided not to tip her hand.

"So, Ivy tells me you want to make me an offer?" Gus saw no need to waste time. He was cocky, sure of himself, and what was worse, Ben swore he could see the dollar signs in Gus' head.

Ivy was a tougher egg to crack, Ben realized. Women always were. She seemed genuine, innocent enough, but there was something in her eyes…

And Charity…

Ben could only imagine what was cooking up in that woman's head right now. It was her move: raise or call; and, Ben couldn't decide which would be worse.

"An offer? Well, yes, I was interested…" Charity took her time.

She'd dreamt of finding this painting for so long. Everyone in that room knew that - including Gus, she feared. How much would be enough for him? Was he out to blackmail her?

What was that old adage? Be careful what you wish for?

Charity felt manipulated and trapped - sensations she found toxic to her very being. She stared at the painting for what seemed like an eternity to Ben. Perhaps, she expected it to guide her somehow.

The silence in the room was deafening. Ben was on the edge of his seat. Gus' hands were shoved in his pockets. Ivy's lower lip was tight between her teeth. Charity ignored them all.

Suddenly, Lila's locket caught her eye. Charity hadn't seen it in person for years, not since Peter was in college. She'd forgotten how exquisite it was. And Lila was everything Grandpa Zack had described and more.

But, it wasn't the painting Charity wanted. It was answers. And right now, Lila was more enigmatic than the Mona Lisa - possessed of secrets Charity couldn't bear to leave untold.

Suddenly, Charity's voice filled the room. "I was interested," she repeated hesitantly.

"But, on closer examination, I don't think so," she blurted, shocking Ben almost out of his chair. "You see, I don't waste my money on copies…"

^^^^^^^

"Copy? The painting's a fake?" Peter asked, stunned.

"How the blazes should I know!" Charity sputtered in return. "I said the first thing that popped into my head. I always do when I'm feeling cornered…"

"Aunt C.!" Peter needed some aspirin and fast. God, maybe if he just closed his eyes for a minute, this would all go away and he'd wake up from this nightmare in his own bed, with Sophie curled snugly against him.

But, Charity just kept on talking…

"Naturally, Leighton asked for proof, so I told him I had the locket," Charity confessed. "That it was all the proof I'd need."

"You bluffed…" Peter couldn't believe even Charity would take that gamble.

"I don't know why I said it, Peter," she shrugged. "It just 'felt' right."

Oh, Peter had heard that explanation from Charity more times than he cared to remember. Charity with her intuition…Charity with her so-called cosmic connection to Grandpa Zack…Charity telling him inexplicably, that sometimes something just 'felt' right.

Peter supposed he could never really blame her. After all, it was his own connection to Sully which had brought Peter the only sense of tranquility that he'd ever really experienced in his life - before Sophie, that is.

"I don't know who was more shocked," she commented wryly. "Me or them. And poor Ben had to keep his mouth from dropping open."

"Aunt C.," Wearily, Peter raised the palm of his hand to his forehead and brushed his hair back in frustration. "The locket's not going to tell you anything. It's an empty piece of metal. What did you possibly hope to accomplish?"

"I don't know…Buy some time…" she sighed. "Figure out his game."

"Game…" Peter repeated, shaking his head. "Some game…Ben in the hospital…you in jail…"

"I'm very sorry, Peter," she said softly. "I never should have presumed… The locket belongs to you, after all."

"Only because Katie Sully could charm anyone, even Hank," Peter smiled wistfully, haunted by his own secret.

"Aunt C., what if this was all a misunderstanding? What if Leighton really is innocent?" Peter asked, afraid that Charity may have invented trouble where there was none - another Lawson trait, unfortunately.

"He could be innocent, I suppose," Charity admitted reluctantly.

"But what happened to Ben was NOT in my imagination!" she argued, growing pale at the thought of her dearest love lying in a hospital bed.

"How did it happen?" Peter asked, full of concern.

"Just our usual difference of opinion…" Charity began pacing the length of her cell. "It was nothing more than that…"

"More than what…exactly…?" Peter winced.

"Ben was furious with me for baiting Leighton," she confessed sheepishly. "As we were leaving, witnesses saw us arguing in the lobby. I believe his exact words were that I was a crazy woman who had nothing better to do than spend her money on treasure hunts…"

"He's never been shy with his opinions," Charity stated ruefully. "But those words in a casino…" her voice began to trail off in dismay.

Ironically, Ben had described her quite accurately. For better or worse, Charity was a Lawson, through and through.

"When I finally got him to calm down, Ben realized the bluff might work," Charity smiled half-heartedly. "We could stall for time until you arrived with the locket, try and learn as much as possible…"

"Ben even decided we might be able to use our little argument to our advantage. Make Gus and Ivy think we were at odds," Charity revealed.

"Divide and conquer…" Sadly, Peter recalled Ben's words.

"I called Gus later that night to apologize for my outburst," Charity was obviously growing tired, as she came to the difficult end of her story.

"We agreed to meet the next evening, alone, to discuss things more calmly. Gus suggested one of the conference rooms in the hotel - strictly business, this time, he said."

"Naturally, Ben insisted on following me at a distance."

Nervously, Peter began to wonder if Charity had the strength to go on with her recollections.

"When I arrived, the room was dark. I heard a scuffle…turned…I heard Ben shout. The next thing I knew, a shot rang out. When the lights came on, a hotel security guard found me cradling Ben's body, the gun by my side."

"Our previous argument in public became…"

"Motive," Peter finished succinctly.

Charity held back her tears. "They didn't need much more…"

"And Leighton?" Peter asked quietly.

Charity sighed deeply. "Delayed by hotel business, he informed the police. And he provided several members of his staff to prove it."

Peter began to see just how serious Charity's situation was.

"Without the locket, Peter," she explained sadly, "I have nothing to prove my side of the story."

"Without the locket, I'm a woman who gambles uncontrollably and finds her law-abiding husband a nuisance to be rid of…"

The tremble in Charity's voice had grown with each passing second until she was finally unable to speak. Seeking the comfort of his touch, Charity's hand reached out to Peter.

Imperceptibly, there it was again... That tiny involuntary flinch, that overwhelming guilt, Peter had responded with when Sophie touched him earlier.

Like a seething volcano, Peter could feel the stress and pressure building within him. And unlike the pressure he'd felt to win his father's approval, or the stress he'd experienced in his marriage to Chloe, or throughout his failed Wall Street career, this pressure was a thousand times worse. The aunt he cherished was in prison. The man she loved might be dying. And she was counting on Peter, and Peter alone, to provide the one item that might free her.

"I'm sorry I got you into this, Peter," Charity said in a whisper, fearful that Peter could somehow suffer the same fate as Ben.

Peter couldn't look her in the eyes. He just couldn't.

"I'll figure something out. I promise," he mumbled, turning quickly for the nearest exit.

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