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The Quintessential Q
Chapter Seventy Two
Maddy, Maddy, Maddy
Wyndemere Lite.
Nikolas rises at the crack of dawn, which is getting later all the time with the advent of fall, and heads over to the rehab project from the little cottage in the woods. Nik starts a pot of coffee and goes through the project book. All the major systems were done, the roof was done, the windows were done. The crews were working on the inside projects; now Kitchens and bathrooms are the priority. All the remaining outdoor projects could only be computer modeled until spring. It seemed chaotic but in general the contractor, Larry, works from the attic down leaving the main floor for last. Materials would be hauled up and down and anything they did to the main floor in all likelihood would have to be done over to cover the damage of the construction.
Absently pouring himself a cup of coffee, Nik wonders where he can be of the most use and remembers his conversation with Emily when last they spoke. Emily had been adamant about not moving home yet. She's still living over the restaurant. Two days had passed since their conversation. Three days since the girls had been recovered. Taking a sip of the hot beverage, Nikolas winces. He'd pushed too hard, too fast. Stupid clueless. The conversation seemed to end okay but when he'd replayed it in his head, replayed the things he said... the way Emily had looked so frail holding, hugging that pillow to her. Clueless. He'd gone there to make her feel better. And instead had made everything worse. Well not totally but reminded Emily of the small town feel, small minds, of this burg.
Lucky wanders down from the apartment upstairs in the carriage house he belts the tie of the plaid flannel robe over his boxers and socks. "I really wish you wouldn't start the coffee so freaking early. I can't sleep through the smell of coffee brewing. And just cause you can't sleep doesn't mean that I should go short." Lucky gripes as he pours himself a cup of coffee. Leaning back in a chair, he sighs, savors the aroma, swirls the brew around briefly and then sips. "So what has got you up before the damn worms? Em still staying at Porter's?"
"Yes. And while I'm sure that Johnny Cook is sleeping on the couch; I don't like it. But Emily made it clear she isn't leaving until the press is gone from the front of the mansion."
"You told me she had a busted ankle. That only makes sense, bro. I've been eluding the press for awhile now because of that damn money. You've got to be mobile." Nikolas looks up from his coffee. Lucky can see the idea forming in behind his eyes. "No, No way. I love Emily like another sister but you are not going to throw me to the sharks to get them off of her."
Maddy rises and automatically dresses in the clothes she'd laid out the night before. Having to be up and at'em at an unreal hour made for hyper organization to get maximum sleep time. She zips up her coat and is reaching for her gloves when Dara flips on the light in the living room startling Maddy. "I think it's time we had a chat."
"Aunt Dara, I really have to get going on my route." Not really a lie. With four different Kiosks going and having to check in on all of them. There was definitely a morning route. Now that things had settled down at the docks, the checking in was cautionary rather than needed. She had a good crew.
"Cut the bull, Maddy. How long did you think it would take for me to find out? I spend a lot of my day at the police station for goodness sake. The water cooler conversation about the perfect snitch sight on the docks already being taken wasn't my first clue. How about Saturday School? Did you think I wouldn't hear about that one either?"
"Snitch Sight!" Maddy protests. "You want it straight? Fine, here it is straight. I run a coffee stand. I sell newspapers at the coffee stand."
"I okay'd you moving here from New Orleans, staying with me, so you could have a normal upbringing. So you could be a kid. I know what it was like living with my sister. I know you had to grow up fast but Maddy, your priority has got to be school. Getting Saturday school doesn't cut it. I want you to quit your job." Dara demands. "This is your senior year. You need the scholarships. You can't be distracted from your grades."
"I'm not quitting my job." Maddy says flatly. "My grades are fine."
"When you're living under my roof..." Dara begins.
"There is a real easy solution to that one." Maddy nods. "I'll pick up my stuff after school."
"You're a minor, Maddy. And my responsibility." Dara tries to change gears.
"Check the fine print, Aunt Dara. I am my own responsibility and have been for years. I pay my own way and won't be under anyone's thumb no matter how well intended. The school had no business contacting you. You are listed as my local emergency contact, not my guardian. And there is a reason for that. If you wanted me to have a normal childhood you should have been around when I was seven not seventeen. Actually seven would have been too late. I was already making sure the bills were getting paid. It was better than doing school work by candlelight because Lisette forgot to pay the bill or her latest boyfriend drank the bill money!" Maddy stops and takes a deep breath before her temper gets the better of her. "Look, this isn't going to work out. I'll make other arrangements and pick up my stuff after school. Now if you'll excuse me I have to get to work."
"Maddy." Dara reaches out grabbing Maddy's arm to get her attention.
"No offense, Aunt Dara. I've got no problem with your concern but this isn't going to work. I won't do pigtails and dolls so you can feel like you're doing your duty by the family." Maddy shrugs out from under Dara's restraining arm and leaves shutting the door softly behind her.
Dara goes over to the phone and grabbing her address book dials her sister down in New Orleans. "Lisette? It's Dara. We need to have a little chat."
Three hours later before the beginning bell at Port Charles High, Maddy is striding into the principal's office. "Is he in?"
"Wait! You can't go in there!" The secretary protests.
"According to the damn student handbook, the principal has an open door policy. Or is that more convenient crap you beurocrats put out to placate the masses?" Maddy brushes by the secretary and walks into the principal's office. "If you want to be useful pull my file. He's going to need it." Maddy shuts the door after her.
The principal looks up from one of his reports for the school board. "Ms. Reynolds, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir." Maddy takes a seat across from the principal's desk. "I have an issue that needs your attention." The secretary comes in bringing Maddy's file. "Sir, referring to the file in front of you could you please tell me where I signed any release of information that would allow you to talk to Dara Jensen about my performance in this school?"
"Dara Jensen is listed as your emergency contact." The principal reviews Maddy's file.
"Yes, and since when did Saturday School constitute an emergency? Blood is an emergency. Needing a kidney is an emergency. Talking on a cell phone in the library while on a free period is NOT an emergency."
"Ms. Jensen is acting in loco parentis. She is your guardian."
"Check the file again." Maddy suggests. "Ms. Jensen is not my guardian, she is not acting in place of my parents. She is my aunt and has no power in making decisions for me."
The principal sees what Maddy is referring to. It wasn't something he saw on a regular basis. "You're a ...."
"An emancipated minor. An adult in the eyes of the court and this school. I write my own notes. And I take my own consequences for my actions. I know if I allow you the time to refer to my transcripts you'll see I have been doing quite well with the responsibility. Now if you'll excuse me I have to get to class." Maddy pauses at the door. "Sir, I am an extremely private person, and my business is nobody's but my own. If you have an issue in the future with my conduct please address your concerns to me directly."
PCPD.
Dara strides into the detectives bull pen. Looking around she sees Taggart back in the interrogation/conference room with his flow charts. "You got time for a break?" Dara asks him. "Somewhere away from here."
Taggart runs a hand over his polished dome. "Yeah, I'm not getting anywhere here. I'm waiting on flight plans on two private jets that took off around the same time frame the girls were recovered."
"Two?" Dara asks curiously.
"Yeah, the Cassadine jet took off just before the girls were recovered. And the Quartermaine jet took off the next morning. Neither of them are back yet."
"That's why you think you haven't found them, the kidnappers. Because someone took matters in their own hands."
"Consider the families involved. It can't be ruled out." Taggart sighs. "Why do I get the feeling again that I'm building an air tight case that will never go to trial?" Taggart shrugs. "What can I do for you, Counselor?"
"Not here." Dara and Taggart walk from the building and toward Kelly's once there they order beverages. "I need someone to talk to about Maddy-- a sounding board."
"Maddy? Did she finally come clean about the coffee kiosk down on the dock?"
"You knew?" Dara protests. "And you didn't tell me?"
"I kinda had my hands full here." Taggart answers defensively. "And I was planning on telling you the next time we got together. Like now."
"Maddy says she is moving out. I called my sister to try to get her to reason with Maddy but Lisette laughed in my face. Maddy's been living with me for months. I thought that Lisette was sending money, you know for her room and board, expenses and things. It turns out not only was Lisette not sending money but that Maddy has been sending money to her! Months, Marcus! She can't be making that kind of money on a paper route."
"Oh she sells a lot of papers." Marcus nods. "I knew we were going to be having this conversation eventually so I did a little research. That spot that Maddy has down on the docks is perfect... actually it's seedy but on the upswing; it'd be perfect for an undercover on surveillance in the area." Marcus sees that Dara is getting both impatient and worried. "She doesn't just work at that kiosk. She owns it. Maddy has four separate business permits here in Port Charles. You know that kiosk outside the courthouse? That's one of hers."
"What?!" Dara's jaw drops and then recovering she starts sputtering. "I stop for coffee there every time I come out of court! But that's impossible. She's a minor; she can't.... It would be fraud..."
Taggart is shaking his head. "All her paperwork is in order. Including the copies of her emancipation papers so that she can sign contracts. Struck a chord. She told me she'd been emancipated since she was fifteen."
"I must have sounded like a complete idiot." Dara closes her eyes. "I heard my mother coming out of my mouth. I pulled the while you're living under my roof...."
"Oh gees, Dara. You didn't?!"
"Kick me while I'm down, why don't ya?"
The hostess comes back into the kitchen area of Porter's restaurant in the early afternoon. "Johnny, you wanted me to tell you if there was something weird, you know, like a van hanging around?" All the staff knew that Johnny's little sister had been kidnapped, and while she might be back safe now the press are making nuisances of themselves.
Johnny looks up from what he is doing. "A van?"
"Yeah, there is a black van parked across the street. It's been there for awhile. It doesn't belong to any of the customers."
"Good eye. I'll check it out." Johnny removes his apron and slides on his coat. Inside the coat in a custom pocket is his side arm. It saves from having to wear a harness for the damn gun. Damn, I thought I was through with carrying this blasted thing. Johnny walks through the dining room. The number of customers is sparse. It's too late for lunch and too early for dinner. A lot of restaurants would be closed right now but he stayed open to prep for the dinner crowd. Johnny sees the van the hostess was referring to before leaving the front door and breathes a little easier recognizing it. Maddy.
Maddy looks up when she hears the rap on the side door. Seeing it's Johnny, she gets up and slides the door open. Johnny climbs in and pulls up a captain's chair. "What's up?"
"My question. One of my people saw a strange van hanging around."
"I was just waiting on a fax and getting some of my paperwork done."
Johnny groans. "Bookkeeping-- the bane of my existence: local, state and federal. At least with the restaurant I don't have to keep two sets of books."
Maddy looks Johnny over taking in the fit of his jacket, knowing he is packing. "I was wondering how long it would take for someone to check on me. Not too long, you've got good people."
"They all know what a pain in the ass the press has been about Rita."
"Any chance of me getting to talk to Emily?" Maddy asks.
"You eaten?" Johnny asks. "I've heard horror stories about the food at the high school."
"I seldom turn down food, especially meals I don't have to make myself."
"Then come check out my place." Johnny offers. He climbs back out of the van offering Maddy a hand as she climbs out too. Johnny waits while Maddy makes sure everything is locked up and they walk back into the restaurant together. Johnny introduces Maddy to the hostess and keeps on walking back into the kitchen area. Maddy hasn't been to Porter's since they opened even if she was up to date on the status of the restaurant.
Maddy follows Johnny back into the kitchen area. She slows down, hesitates when Johnny keeps walking through the kitchen, into the back room. Johnny half turns to see what is keeping her. Maddy catches up with Johnny at the freight elevator doors. "This goes up to a storeroom. My apartment is the room next door." Johnny pushes the up button. "I'll bring you and... up some snacks." As the elevator opens, Maddy steps in and Johnny goes back to the kitchen area.
Emily starts at the knock on the door. If it were Johnny he'd just walk in. Hobbling over to the door she checks to see who is on the other side before opening it. "Maddy hey." Emily steps back from the door.
Maddy comes in and looks around. "Nice place, great location. And I understand that all your meals are catered."
"I am going to get so fat." Emily admits. "You saved me from Jerry Springer." Em clicks off the remote of the TV.
"Starting to get claustrophobic?"
"A little but Johnny and everybody has been great. You know, I really shouldn't be speaking to you after the way you sicc'd Nikolas on me."
"Come on, he was looking so forlorn like someone had stolen his puppy or something. And I never could resist sad brown eyes."
"So fill me in." Em pats a place on the couch next to her. "How are things going?" Maddy keeps things general and entertaining until after Johnny brings up some huge sandwiches with tasty side dishes and then heads back to the restaurant. "Okay, so what is up why are you really here?"
Maddy reaches into her pocket and pulls out Emily's cut of the profits from the kiosk down at the docks. "Let's get business out of the way."
"Thanks, not that I have anywhere to spend it." Emily says wryly. "Now the real reason?"
"You've lived here forever. I need a place to stay and was hoping you'd have some ideas. Aunt Dara is starting to ask too many questions. I was ordered to Saturday school after I was caught on the cell phone in the library. The moron at the school called Aunt Dara even though she has nothing to do with my education. I could probably sue him but the damage is already done. I wasn't planning on buying my own place for a few months yet. Person my age having money raises too many questions. And the kiosks haven't generated enough income yet to answer those questions."
"Something short term?" Emily shakes her head. "Your best bet would probably be Bobbie Jacks. Either a place in her brownstone or maybe over Kelly's Diner. But if you think Dara asked questions.... Bobbie is Luke Spencer's sister. Not only would she ask questions but she would know what questions to ask. According to Carly, Bobbie is out of town on her honeymoon finally."
"And Marcus lives at the Brownstone." Maddy winces. "It would be a direct conduit back to Aunt Dara. I guess Kelly's is a possibility but the same problem. I'm looking for someplace private."
"I'd say the mansion. Grandfather would love it. With Carly and AJ out of the house and me staying here temporarily. He's getting kind of bored."
"He's getting bored not having anyone's life to run!" Maddy shakes her head. "You have already told me too many stories. Stories about him checking your alarm code to find out what time you got in. I see the method to your madness. Hoping I'd shift focus off of you."
"It was worth a shot." Emily grins. "The old man does like you though. He'd be good for a couple of lunches. You just have to make sure you're picking his brain more than he's picking yours! I don't know. Lucky just moved out of his place."
"What about that one?" Maddy leans in curiously. This sounds like a real lead.
"You could probably get it no problem. It's over Jason's motorcycle shop. And Jason minds his own business. There would be no questions asked. Security wouldn't be an issue although heat would. That's another of the reasons why Lucky moved. He was fine with it although Elizabeth likes the basic luxuries-- heat, hot water. But I doubt he would have moved until the press started hounding her to get to him."
"The guy has millions and he was living in a place with no heat?"
"He just scored those millions and I bet they're probably in a safe deposit box somewhere. Lucky and Money? If it doesn't fit in his backpack he really isn't interested. He is still ticked at Nikolas for the whole money thing anyway. Maddy, you're in the information business. Isn't there anyone who owes you a favor or something?"
"Yeah, now that you mention it. I do have someone who owes me a favor-- three to be precise." Maddy cheerfully applies herself to finishing the late lunch that Johnny had prepared. "This would have been easier if it fell on the weekend but I'll deal. So how long you planning on staying here?"
"That depends on the depth of the press at the mansion. I've been watching the news. I think I should be back there this weekend."
"Give me a ring when you need a lift. They won't know my vehicle. And Johnny's has advertising on the side of his."
"Sounds like a plan."