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Date Posted: 11:40:55 04/17/03 Thu
Author: dqfan
Subject: Re: Ghosts - ch.33
In reply to: dqfan 's message, "Re: Ghosts - ch.32" on 16:31:23 04/15/03 Tue

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE


"Can you help us?" Peter pounced. In his eyes, the cavalry had arrived.

Michaela sat in a chair by the desk while Sully chose to lean comfortably against it. "Perhaps…" she hedged.

"We need more than perhaps," Peter winced. "We need a miracle."

"Sometimes miracles do happen," Michaela began mysteriously. "Did I ever tell you about the time that Sully and I befriended a Union Buffalo Soldier?"

"Michaela," Peter argued. "We don't have time for this!"

Sternly, Sully eyed his grandson. "Make time."

Knowing that tone in Sully's voice all too well, Sophie grabbed a pillow and nudged Peter back against the headboard with her.

"We'd love to hear it," she replied, her eyes daring Peter to say otherwise.

"Well," Michaela began crisply. "His name was Sergeant Zachary Carver. Sully and I were able to convince Sergeant Carver that the army's attacks on the Indian camps were unjustified. He agreed and defied regulations in order to help us. But, he would have been court-martialed or worse, if I hadn't…"

"Hadn't?" Sophie couldn't wait to hear the conclusion of Michaela's story.

"If the sergeant had simply deserted, the army would have been relentless in their pursuit," Michaela explained. "So, I thought it best to falsify his death."

Peter's reluctance to waste time on Michaela's reminiscences vanished and he sat up like a lightning bolt. "You did what?"

"I injected him with a neural paralyzer - a drug that simulates death," Michaela revealed. "It lowered all his vital signs - respiration, heart rate, blood pressure - to such negligible levels that, from all outward inspection, he would, for a time, appear dead."

"We'd need a doctor…" Sophie caught on immediately.

"The hotel's house doctor," Peter's mind was racing. "Gus could arrange it."

"Peter, do you really think this could work?" Sophie was brimming with excitement.

"Switch syringes. Let Ivy think she succeeded. Have the police standing by. It could work…" Peter enthused.

"We wouldn't even need a neural paralyzer. She could inject him with something completely harmless." Enthusiastically, Sophie conjured up embellishments to Peter's plan. "We could flatline his readouts to convince her..."

"We best be goin'," Sully interrupted them. "Seems like you kids gotta lot t'do."

"Wait!" Peter exclaimed. "Please. Don't you have any other 'stories' you'd like to tell us?"

Quietly, Sully took Michaela by the hand and smiled.

"Not today."

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

Everything happened in a blur after that. Reggie was summoned and, on Gus' authority, Dr. Carlson, the house doctor, was called. Shortly thereafter, the doctor returned with a syringe containing a clear, and totally harmless, saline solution.

"This shouldn't affect him in the least," he smiled. "But it woud be wise to have his doctor nearby, just in case," he advised cautiously.

"I understand," Peter nodded. "Do you have that other item I asked for?" he asked in a whisper.

Peter had made a second request of the doctor - one, which he hadn't told Sophie about…just yet.

In the time they'd waited for Reggie and Dr. Carlson to return, Sophie and Peter had formulated their plan of action. While Peter kept his date with Ivy, Sophie would go visit Charity in prison and explain the situation, preparing her for tomorrow. Peter didn't envy Sophie having to tell Charity she was about to be freed solely so she could be framed for Ben's murder.

He was also pretty sure the switched syringe idea wasn't going to thrill her. But it couldn't be helped. For better or worse, this was how it would be.

"For better or worse…" Why had he used that phrase - tonight of all nights?

Guiltily, Peter had changed into his nicest black suit and readied himself for his evening with Ivy. But, even before he'd dressed, Peter had known what had to be done. Ivy was expecting a special evening and he could no longer afford to disappoint her. There was simply too much at stake.

"Empty one of these into her drink. It should wear off in about eight hours, more or less…" Surreptitiously, Dr. Carlson handed Peter a thumb-sized plastic bag containing one very tiny, but essential, capsule.

"Thanks, Doc…Reg…" Gratefully, Peter shook both their hands in goodbye.

"We'll take it from here," Peter's face was lined with worry as he showed them both out, hoping for a few minutes alone with his wife.

"You should go, too…" Sophie encouraged, purposely avoiding Peter's attempt at intimacy.

"It's only five o'clock," Peter said softly. "We have a little time."

"You should have called Ivy by now," Sophie chided him, with uncharacteristic harshness.

"Soph, we agreed that once I called her, she'd want to see me," Peter sighed, feeling so incredibly helpless. "And we needed this time to get ready, right?"

"Right," Sophie agreed too quickly. "Well, you're ready now, so you should go…"

Sophie wasn't sure she could stand to see Peter looking so handsome for another woman, for even one more minute.

"Soph…" Peter felt his wife bristle as he touched her.

"Look at me, Sophie," he insisted, turning her around to face him. "Tell me what's wrong."

"You're not coming back," she said simply.

"What? Of course, I am. I'll be fine," he promised easily.

"No…that's not what I meant," Sophie shook her head. This conversation was unavoidable.

"You're not coming back tonight. Are you?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

For all of Peter's attempts to postpone her heartache, Sophie had known deep down inside from the moment that she read Ivy's note.

"No," Peter's reply was barely a whisper. "No, I'm not."

"I have to stay with her tonight, Soph," he confessed honestly. "It's too dangerous to leave her alone. Plus, she'll be too suspicious if I don't."

"Stay with…" Sophie repeated his words coldly. "You mean, sleep with."

"Soph…" Peter reached for her, anguished.

It was breaking his heart to see her like this.

"Sleep, maybe," his voice rose in desperation. "But not make love to, Soph. I swear it!"

"Peter…" Sophie had no doubt her husband's intentions were noble but Ivy was an amazingly beautiful woman and she wanted him very, very, badly. "It might not be that easy."

"It will," he smiled reassuringly, withdrawing the plastic bag from his inside jacket pocket. "Thanks to Dr. Carlson."

"You're going to drug her?" Sophie's uneasiness grew. After all, she and Peter spent their lives now fighting against drugs.

"I'm giving Ivy a good night's sleep," Peter calmed her, placing the capsule back in his jacket. "Nothing more."

Reacting to the look of skepticism he saw on Sophie's face, Peter sighed. "Dr. Carlson promised me it's not addictive. Can't you trust me, please?"

"I do trust you," she replied adamantly. "I just wish there was some other way."

"Well, there isn't!" Angry and on edge, Peter still blamed himself for everything.

"The only other way would've been if I'd had that damned box!" he railed with such ferocity it took Sophie by surprise.

"What box?" she exclaimed, trying to follow Peter's disjointed ranting.

"The locket, Soph," Peter repeated in exasperation. "I kept it in a small box. Maybe I could've used the locket as leverage with Ivy somehow…"

"Peter? Are you in there?" Ivy's knock at the door startled them both.

"Go," Peter mouthed, gesturing for Sophie to escape through the adjoining doors.

"But…" Sophie couldn't leave now.

"Go!" Peter insisted again, giving her no other choice.

With Sophie safely in her own bedroom, Peter opened the door.

"Here and ready for our big evening!" Grandly, Peter offered Ivy his arm and maneuvered her out into the hallway.

"You look beautiful," he charmed her. And it wasn't a lie, either. Ivy was wearing a short, billowy, red dress with a plunging halter neckline that tied with a simple knot beneath her silky black hair.

"I thought I heard voices…" Ivy was a bit startled by Peter's exuberant mood.

"Just practicing my Andrea Boccelli." Peter cleared his throat and warbled a few notes with all the drama, if not the talent, of an opera star.

Ivy couldn't help but be amused. "You hadn't called…." she said hesitantly.

"I wanted to surprise you," Peter whispered in her ear.

Whether Ivy believed him or not, Peter's powers of persuasion were hard to resist.

"Our dinner reservation's not for another hour," Ivy smiled.

"No problem," Peter assured her. "There's a great jazz band playing in the lounge."

"How 'bout a little dancing first," Peter offered charmingly. "What do you say?"

Ivy hugged his arm a little more tightly and kissed him warmly on the lips.

"I say, yes."

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

Sophie didn't have time to think. If she had, she'd regret every harsh word she said to Peter. She'd regret not having given him a kiss goodbye or telling him that she loved him. And most of all, she'd regret that they hadn't had more time to talk about 'the box.'

Instead, she only had time to play a hunch - a chance for her to do something tangible, something that might actually matter in all this mess.

So, after making certain that Peter and Ivy had left, Sophie grabbed her daypack and headed for the service elevator, needing to find Reggie - fast.

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

"Oh, I can't take it down here any more!" Gus fumed to Bruno. "Where is that kid?"

"I beeped him again, Sir," Bruno apologized.

"That's it! Sheriff or no Sheriff, I've gotta get some air!" Desperate, Gus raced toward the tunnel's opening. Somehow he'd been unaware that he suffered from claustrophobia until now.

The construction entrance wouldn't be closed off until tonight. If he could just get a little fresh air, he might be able to last the night down there and then risk the service elevator to his suite for a change of clothes in the morning.

"Stay here," Gus instructed Bruno. "I won't be long."

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

"So, will you do it?" Sophie asked Reggie in a hush.

"Sure, Sophie," Reggie reassured her. "But why the change in plans?"

"There's something I need to take care of," she replied simply. "And I've got to get going."

At that moment, Reggie's beeper went off. "Gus, again," he sighed. "He's been paging me every five minutes. Wants this, needs that… Well, he can just keep his pants on…"

"Excuse me, Sir," An elderly guest of the hotel approached Reggie at his concierge stand, carrying her dog. "Could you possibly recommend a local groomer for my poodle?"

Sophie smiled. Reggie obviously had a busy night in store. "I've gotta go."

"Wait…Sophie…" Somehow the poodle was now in Reggie's arms. "What should I tell Peter?"

Sophie was already halfway toward the door.

"I'll be back before he misses me!"

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

Gus took the circuitous route, behind the brush of the Tequila Trail, toward the front of the hotel. There were always so many people coming and going at the main entrance that Gus felt certain he could blend right in.

His hotel never looked more beautiful to him than when Gus slipped quietly onto one of the benches at the far side of the fountain. Of course, his best view was of the taxi stand but Gus really didn't care. Even the taxi stand looked beautiful - the most beautiful taxi stand in the whole wide world, Gus thought, as he took several deep, satisfying, breaths.

Afraid he might be pushing his luck, Gus was about to head back to Bruno when, suddenly, he was presented with a far more pleasant alternative…

"Where're we going?" Excitedly, Gus crawled into the backseat of Sophie's cab before the driver could shut the door for her.

"Gus!" she exclaimed, scooting over in surprise.

Sophie had understood from Peter that Gus was safely ensconced at the River of Dreams. But, of course, she couldn't tell Gus that. No, Peter had made it exceptionally clear to her that, although he and Gus had achieved a tentative truce, he was still uncertain how wise it was to trust him.

It would be far safer not to tell Gus everything, just in case - especially about their marriage.

"What are you doing here?" Sophie fumbled, unsure of whether she should go ahead now with her plans.

"I've been cooped up in the hotel all day." And that was an understatement, Gus winced.

"I could use a drive," he smiled. "So where're we going?"

Sophie was wasting time that she just didn't have. Better to be somewhat truthful with Gus and take her chances than exit the cab now and play more useless games.

Resolutely, Sophie swiveled to address the cab driver.

"The airport, please, and hurry!"

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

"You're not leaving town so soon, are you?" It would be just Gus' luck that the woman of his dreams disappears while he's relegated to living as the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

"No, no…" Sophie reassured him. "Just a quick side trip."

"Business or pleasure?" Gus asked lightly.

Sophie considered her options. "Family," she answered succinctly.

"Father? Mother?" Gus was curious, sure, but more than that, he truly cared.

"Mother," Sophie decided to play it safe here and lie. No sense giving too much away. "You know how mothers are…" she shrugged.

"Not really," Gus sighed. "My mother died when I was twelve."

"Oh, Gus, I'm sorry," Sophie felt terrible now for lying.

"That's okay," Gus smiled. "Ten years later I met Dolores and she's been like a mother to me ever since."

"Keeps you in ice cream, huh?" Sophie laughed.

"And art supplies," Gus chuckled. "She's always after me to keep up my sketching, but with the hotel, I just don't have the time."

"I didn't know you sketched?" Sophie was surprised.

Gus nodded, a bit embarrassed now that he'd brought it up. "Always loved art - my own or anyone else's. My first job was as a security guard in an art gallery. Thought it could be my big break."

"And was it?" Of course, Peter had told her all that Gus had said, but Sophie was fascinated to hear Gus describe his life in his own words.

"Yeah, funny enough, it was," he smiled wryly.

Sophie had expected Gus to be jittery or angry but he seemed almost happy. He was obviously enjoying the ride, the fresh air, and, most of all, Sophie thought guiltily, the company.

"But, I'm no Picasso," he winked, placing his arm around her.

Somehow this simple yellow cab ride felt like the most luxurious trip Gus had ever had the pleasure of taking. Sophie could have asked the driver to whisk them clear across country and Gus wouldn't have protested in the least.

"Airport, Ma'am…" the cabbie announced their arrival.

"Thanks for the company, Gus," Sophie said, giving him a peck on the cheek as he gallantly paid the fare.

"Wait! Can't I walk you to the gate? Help you with your luggage?" Gus scrambled to come up with any excuse to stay with her.

"No luggage and only passengers allowed at the gates," Sophie reminded him gently.

"See you soon, I promise," Sophie waved with a smile.

Gus watched her for as long as he could - a solitary, lonely man. The irony was not lost on him.

"Goodbye at an airport," he quipped, before getting into the cab to head back to the hotel.

"Where have I seen that before?"

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