Here – Chapter 35
Sunday, 27-Aug-00 06:53:13

165.76.24.143 writes:
Here - Chapter 35

DamnitDamnitDamnit!!!!

Carly catches her breath and pulls herself slowly to a sitting position, finding the inner strength to yell after the disappearing vehicle, "Come on! It's not even worth anything!!!!"

The pain of her injuries hits her suddenly and she winces. Carefully, she touches the back of her head where it is pounding.

Then the emotional pain of the last few weeks rushes forth from where she'd stuffed it and her breath catches in her throat. She feels as if she has worked so hard, gone so far.

And for what? To be left sitting in the middle of a smelly street in a smelly neighborhood.

She considered that ugly boat of a car a symbol. Not only was it the one good thing she got out of her dalliance with Sonny, it was her last tie to him. To Carly, the car represented her independence, her progress, her beginning a new life.

And now it is gone.

She stares down the now-empty street in the direction her stolen vehicle was driven. Then she turns her eyes to the dark evening sky. She does not ask, why?, because Carly is way past asking that question where she is concerned.

She just wonders, what now??

She takes a deep breath and roughly wipes her eyes and nose with a dirty hand. Then she sniffs and, with a groan, manages to get to her feet.

A bit shaky, she hobbles to Aubrey's building, one hand on her aching back, and hits the button.

"Yeah?" asks the familiar, craggy voice.

She clears her throat and barely recognizes her own voice, "It's, um, Caroline Benson..."

The buzzer sounds immediately. Almost as quickly, Aubrey appears inside the glass door, getting there fast enough to hold the door open for Carly when she finds herself nearly too weak to push it open more than a few inches.

"My God!" he gasps when he sees her appearance.

Her face is streaked with dirt. Her hair is mussed. Her forearms are red and bleeding from small scrapes. When he looks beneath the dirt, he sees that her face is scratched up as well, from her forehead, down the bridge of her nose, to her swollen top lip.

She looks as if someone has dragged her, facedown, over a ratty welcome mat.

He leads her back to his office, his hand on her elbow to steady her. He notices that her shirt and jeans are tracked with dirt and dust. There is a tear in one knee of her jeans. He asks tensely, "What happened???"

She takes a seat before she can find the will to answer. She does not want to say anything because she believes that if she talks about it, it really happened.

He kneels beside her, giving her injuries a cursory examination.

She waits until she no longer feels as if she is floating in a tub of viscous liquid, then whispers, "My car just got stolen..."

She sits up suddenly and looks down at her hands, then at the floor, then back out toward the entrance. Then she lets out a sad laugh, "I guess my purse is gone too..."

Aubrey's eyes widen and he asks tentatively, "I-is that all?"

"Is that all??" she scoffs. Then she sees what he is getting at and assures him, "They just pushed me down. That's it."

Then he jumps up and dials 911.

Carly watches him, as if from a great distance, as he gives his office address and informs the police that "a woman has just been carjacked outside my office!" For added incentive, which is always needed when a distress call comes from this neighborhood, Aubrey adds that he is a lawyer.

He kneels beside his client again, "You want anything? Some water? Coffee?"

She looks around the dank, smoke-tainted office, and asks blankly, "You have coffee?"

"No," he admits sheepishly.

She licks her lips and smiles crookedly at him, the crack on her top lip more obvious with the moistening. Her voice is a whisper, "Don't feel bad. It's the thought that counts, right?"

He looks at her seriously, watching her eyes with concern, "Maybe I should take you to the hospital." He looks down at his watch, wondering how long it will take the police to get there.

She shakes her head, says, "I'm fine, just a little shaky..." It feels like her brain is a tennis ball, bouncing against the inside of her skull. "Wow..." she utters in amazement, placing a hand on either side of her head, "that hurt..."

Aubrey pats her arm gently, then breathes a small sigh of relief when he hears the distant sound of sirens. He realizes that the police could be coming down his street for some other nightly offense, but he does not care. He figures he will grab whatever officers are in that police car.

He tells Carly, "I'll be right back," then runs to the door. He stands outside, keeping the door open with a foot, and waves down the approaching unmarked sedan with a flashing light on the dashboard. Following closely behind the car is a police cruiser.

He watches as an attractive female officer - a detective apparently, as she is in plain clothes - and an imposing African-American male, dressed in a rumpled jacket and chinos, climb out of the car.

*******

"You just had to take this one, didn't you?" Taggert mutters under his breath to Hannah as they near the wildly waving man in the doorway. He checks his watch, "Our shift was just about over..."

Hannah tosses him a quick, unapologetic smile, then turns her attention to the matter at hand.

She addresses the balding man, her eyes narrowed, "I'm Detective Scott." She tilts her head toward Taggert, "This is Lieutenant Taggert. You reported a carjacking?"

Aubrey nods anxiously, shaking her proffered hand, "Yes! My name is Aubrey Burke. Please, please! Come inside!"

Taggert looks around the deserted street, briefly motioning to the uniformed officers to stay alert and be ready to secure the crime scene. He looks at the filthy facade of the building the man is ushering them into and thinks, who knows what's behind this door??

Then he sees that Hannah has already gone inside and he hurriedly enters behind her, propping the door open with a large piece of cement from the crumbling sidewalk.

Aubrey is excitedly explaining as he leads them down the poorly-lit hallway, "My client came by to see me -- I'm a lawyer --" he provides, trying to give himself some credibility, some importance, in these officers' eyes. "And when I see her, she's all messed up. Dirt and scratches all over her..."

They walk into the office, Hannah's eyes curious and alert.

Carly turns her head at their entrance, looks at Hannah, then rolls her eyes, "Great...just great..."

Hannah blinks slowly, then takes a deep breath. "Carly?"

Taggert purses his lips, walks to Aubrey's desk, and perches on it comfortably. He sighs, "Mrs. Quartermaine."

"Benson," Carly snaps.

Taggert puts up his hands, "Okay. Fine."

Hannah studies Carly, raising a brow at Carly's injuries. "We should get an ambulance over here," she says to Taggert.

Without comment, Taggert pulls out his cell phone.

Carly stops him. She hisses, "Don't! I don't need an ambulance!! I'm fine!"

Hannah shakes her head, "No offense, Carly, but you don't look fine."

"Shut up!!" Carly yells, then starts rubbing her temples with her fingers.

Taggert says softly, "I really think you ought to be looked at, Ms. Benson."

She lifts her eyes and looks at Taggert, gauging his sincerity. Finally, she nods and reluctantly mutters, "Okay."

He calls for an ambulance.

Hannah kneels in front of Carly, her professional face on now. Hannah pulls out her notebook and a small tape recorder. She looks into Carly's eyes and asks gently, "You want to tell me what happened?"

Carly can not believe it, but she finds herself falling for Hannah's concerned-peace-officer act. She hears herself telling Hannah what occurred in those few hysterical, unreal seconds.

Hannah is writing quickly as Carly speaks. Taggert watches Carly and Hannah briefly, then turns to Aubrey. "Mr. Burke, did you see anything??"

Aubrey says sadly, "No. I wish I had..."

Carly is beginning to feel like a complete idiot. She is absolutely certain that Hannah is just asking her questions she can not answer on purpose, for the sole purpose of humiliating her.

Hannah asks, "How many assailants were there, Carly? Do you remember?"

"Two," Carly answers quickly. Then she reconsiders, "I think there were two..."

"Two?" Hannah repeats, her pen perched on her pad of paper, "Can you describe them??"

Carly bites her lip, feeling more and more nervous, "It was dark..."

Hannah persists, not showing her impatience, "Can you tell me if they were caucasian? African-American? Hispanic??"

Carly closes her eyes, trying to picture the scene in her head. But all she can see is the bottom of that boot coming toward her chest. Finally, she shakes her head and says without conviction, "Caucasian. I think."

"Okay," Hannah smiles encouragement, "That's good. Do you know if they were tall or short?"

Carly shuts her eyes again and guesses, "Um...average?"

Hannah stops writing, sensing that Carly is grasping at straws. Hannah decides to go after more concrete information. "Okay, Carly, what about your car? Can you tell me the make and model?"

Carly's eyes snap open and she looks at Hannah angrily, as if the officer is responsible for her lack of knowledge. "A Buick. Pretty old," she snaps. I can not believe I don't know this.....

Hannah goes on, "All right. What about the color?"

"Black," Carly responds instantly, happy to finally know something for certain.

Hannah continues without looking up, "License plate number?"

Carly swallows.

Hannah looks at her after the pause and sees that Carly is again at a loss. She tries to be friendly and tells Carly, "That's okay, Carly. We can get that information from the DMV. I assume the car's in your name...?"

Damn, Carly winces. She supplies, almost under her breath, "Not yet."

Hannah looks at Taggert, then back at Carly.

Taggert asks, since it looks as if Carly has reached her Hannah-threshold, "Whose name is it in?"

Carly bites her lip, then folds her arms over her chest defensively, "Does it matter?? I just bought it, okay!!??"

Taggert lifts a brow, but says nothing.

Hannah looks down at her notebook.

Aubrey's mouth is open in surprise.

Taggert stands when two uniformed paramedics walk into the office. He motions to Carly and they descend on her.

One of the young men does a quick examination, lifting her arms, moving her fingers, checking her eyes, probing the back of her head with his fingers. He asks, "How do you feel?"

Carly pouts, "I feel fine."

Then he says with a reassuring smile, "I think this looks worse than it is."

Then the other young man begins deftly cleaning the wounds on her arms, hands, and face with an astringent that causes her to wince each and every time he touches her skin. Once her arms are clean, she can see that the scrapes are just surface scratches from the gravel on the road.

The second paramedic stands and advises, "Listen, if you feel faint or anything, go to the hospital immediately. I don't think you do, but it is possible that you have a little concussion..."

"Wonderful," Carly mutters under her breath, observing the men gather their things and leave.

Taggert scratches his cheek then says to Carly, "Okay, Ms. Benson...you want to show us where this happened?"

As she looks at Taggert's inquiring face, Carly feels herself start to fall apart from the inside out. The trauma of the incident is, at last, starting to prick at the bubble of denial she's blown up around herself. All of the awful things that could have happened assail her psyche.

If they'd wanted to, they could have taken me with him and done God knows WHAT to me!!

If he'd had a gun, he could have killed me!

Oh God...Michael!

Suddenly, she feels skinless, her muscles and bones completely exposed. She realizes how utterly vulnerable she really is, how much her life is not in her hands. She is now acutely aware of her heart beating, of the blood flowing through her veins, of the electricity sparking at her nerve endings.

At last, the sobs wracking her body, she buries her face in her hands and bursts into tears.

Hannah looks at Taggert helplessly, then moves closer to Carly and tries to wrap a comforting arm around Carly's shoulder, which Carly immediately shrugs away.

Aubrey pats his client's shoulder and asks her quietly, "Do you want me to call somebody for you, er, Carly?"

Carly sniffs at Aubrey's words and she looks up at him. She nods, "My mother..."

Aubrey waits expectantly.

Carly gathers herself enough to say in a quivering voice, "She works at GH. She's a nurse. Barbara Jones." Unbelievably, Carly hears herself rattle off Bobbie's work number from memory.

Aubrey picks up the telephone and dials. He reaches the hospital and is immediately put on hold.

Taggert says gently to the distraught Carly, "After we finish this, we'll go outside and you can show me where this all happened. All right?"

She gulps and nods, running her sweaty palms up and down her thighs nervously.

Hannah adds, "And then we'll head down to the station and look at a few mug shots."

Carly rolls her eyes and groans in frustration, "I told you I didn't get a good look at them!"

"Well," Hannah says, struggling to maintain her professional composure, "maybe something will jog your memory. Sometimes people see more than they think they do."

Aubrey pipes in, "I'll come with you if you want..."

They all turn to Aubrey when he begins speaking into the telephone receiver again. They watch him ask for Barbara Jones, then see his face fall. He asks, "Well, how long will she be in surgery?" and Carly begins sobbing again.

Aubrey leaves a brief message, then slowly hangs up. He looks at Carly with sadness in his eyes, "Anybody else?"

Carly clasps her hands together and places them in her lap. She sees the cheap watch on her wrist and her eyes widen. "Oh yeah...God...Luke Spencer...my uncle..." she explains to Aubrey, who is picking up the receiver again. She mutters, "Not that he'd care, but I guess I should let him know I won't be in to work tonight..." She gives him the number to Luke's and Aubrey dials.

Carly looks at Aubrey, pleading, "I don't want to talk to him. You tell him, okay?"

He coughs and nods.

*******

"What time did you say Carly was supposed to be in?" Sonny asks, growing impatient.

Luke is returning to the bar after spending some moments in his office and looks at his watch, just realizing the time, "She's late. She was supposed to be in about fifteen minutes ago."

Sonny sighs, rubbing his eyes with his fingers, "Is she always late?"

Luke's voice is concerned, causing Sonny to look at him. Luke answers, "Never."

The phone near the bar rings, capturing both Luke and Sonny's attention.

Claude picks up and says, "Luke's." Then, after a pause, he holds the phone out to Luke, "For you."

Luke, figuring it is his missing niece with some lame excuse, takes the receiver and grumbles, "What?"

Sonny watches Luke's face visibly pale.

Luke asks angrily, in disbelief, "Carjacked??? Now who the hell did you say you were???"

Immediately, Sonny knows this concerns Carly. He leans over the bar, waves slightly to get Luke's eyes, then mouths, "Carly?"

Luke nods tensely, putting up a hand to quiet the already quiet Sonny. After a longer pause, Luke purses his lips, "Well, she's all right??"

After a few more seconds, Luke growls, "Fine. I'll meet you at the station." Then he hangs up.

Luke looks at Sonny, "You coming?"

Sonny asks, "What happened?"

Luke searches his pockets for his keys and looks around behind the bar for his glasses. He says, his voice anxious and distracted, "Couple of guys stole her car. Roughed her up a little bit."

His heart stopped, Sonny blinks, "But she's all right?"

Luke replies, growing angry and heading for the door, "That's what that lawyer said. Just scratched up. But I'm going to the station and see for myself." He gets to the entrance and turns to Sonny and asks again, "You coming??"

Sonny frowns, his fuse burning slowly at the thought of Carly hurt. He starts to follow Luke to the station, but decides against it. His emotions have already disconnected and he is in business-mode. He says flatly, "No."

Luke shakes his head disapprovingly, "If you want to get on her good side, man, I would say that now would be a good time."

Sonny clenches his jaw and announces quietly, "I have something else I have to do."

Luke meets his old friend's eyes, reads him, then lets it go. Luke nods, "Do what you have to do." Then he leaves the bar.

Sonny waits a beat, thoughtful, then goes out to the parking lot, Johnny behind him. Sonny says, without turning to his bodyguard, "The GPS system was still working in car 18, right?"

Johnny nods, "Of course."

Sonny looks out into the lot, his eyes not seeing what is in front of him. He orders, "You have Denny and Antonio find that car." He sucks air in through his teeth and finishes coldly, "Then find the guys who did it."

Johnny nods again. He pauses briefly, then asks, "When we find them...then what?"

Sonny looks into Johnny's eyes, "Leave that to me."