A MATTER OF TRUST

Janet Rivenbark

This story picks up at a point about 5 years after A Happy Life, but in this story A Happy Life turned out differently; when Vincent sent Catherine away after the piano recital, she went and stayed away. She didn’t go see Nancy so she didn’t get talked into following her heart. Some of the major things in Catherine’s life still happened such as her father’s death and the fall of John Moreno, but everything else is different, so I’ve taken the opportunity to play with the things that happened after A Happy Life, in fact, I even made some of them go away. Ah, I love fan fiction!

 

PROLOGUE

All Catherine knew was that she had to get to Vincent. Vincent would make it all right. She ran across the park until she came to the culvert where the threshold was. On her way in she picked up a piece of broken cement to use to tap out her message. She hadn’t learned a lot of the code, but Vincent had taught her how to tap out his name and hers. As she turned toward the pipes in the niche in the wall, hands reached for her and made her stop.

"I’m here," was all he said as he pulled her to him and put his arms around her.

Catherine was crying and couldn’t catch her breath.

"Catherine?" he hugged her tighter as she continued to cry. "Tell me."

Catherine gained some control. Her voice was muffled in his vest, but she managed to get the words out. "Tonight I went to a piano recital. I was actually feeling OK and then I sat down and he started to play…the Grieg piano concerto," she pulled back a little so she could see Vincent’s face. "The one that we heard in the park that night."

Vincent gave her a small smile as he remembered that evening. "Was it beautiful?"

"Yes, it was beautiful and I kept remembering how much you loved it and I wanted you there with me so badly," she was beginning to cry again. "It became unbearable to me; almost physically painful. I just had to run; I actually ran from it." She buried her face in his vest again. "Vincent, what are we going to do?" She looked back up into his face. "We have to do something before there’s nothing left for either of us."

Vincent turned away from her and went to lean against the iron gate. He looked at her with sorrow in his eyes.

"This was the risk we faced."

Catherine wasn’t sure what he meant and shook her head. "How? What?"

Vincent continued as if she hadn’t spoken. "Now…perhaps we’ll awaken from our dreams; return to our lives."

Catherine was shocked at the direction this conversation was taking; she’d run to him for comfort and what she was getting was far from it. "No…" she whispered, then her voice grew stronger and she approached Vincent. "Let me come Below…Let me live in your world...Let me try…

"Catherine, you have a life Above."

All Catherine could do was cry and shake her head, she couldn’t find the words.

"To leave that now would be to turn your back on who you are; on who you are to become. That you must never do!"

Catherine found her voice again. "What am I to do?" she asked quietly.

Vincent sighed and looked away. "You’re in such pain, I know."

"Vincent, I don’t think I have the strength to continue."

"Then you mustn’t continue." His voice had gone flat.

"Maybe if I just went away for a while…"

"Catherine," he interrupted her. "It must end!"

"No!" Now she was really scared.

"It must!" he insisted.

"I don’t want that," her voice sounded odd, even to her own ears. "How can you say that?"

"To see you in such pain, because you dare to love; knowing that I am the reason, the cause of that pain, is more than I can bear to live with. It mocks our dream…So it must end!" He paused as Catherine started to shake her head, then he went on in a softer, more reasonable tone. "Catherine, you have a life waiting to be lived. Let the memory of what we are; what we shared remind you that love, in its deepest and purest form, exists…Use that memory to give you the courage to love someone else."

Catherine was shocked that he would say such a thing. "I can’t."

"You must." With that he turned and walked away from her through the door back into his world.

Catherine took a couple of steps to follow, "No, wait…wait!"

The door closed leaving Catherine standing in shock. She stood for minutes, sure that he would change his mind and come back. She willed him to come back, called him through the Bond. She wanted him to take her in his arms and tell her that it was a mistake.

But he didn’t come back and she finally turned and stumbled blindly out of the culvert and back to her apartment.

She waited for over a week; expecting, every night, to see the familiar shadow on the balcony, but he never came. She began to worry that something had happened to him. She reached out for what little she could feel through the Bond and all she felt was a numbness that reflected her own.

She finally decided that she had to go Below and talk to him face to face. That was the only way they could resolve this. She dressed in jeans, sweater, denim jacket and her running shoes and made her way to the basement. When she reached the bottom of the ladder she turned and was stunned to see that the wall in the rear of the sub basement had been repaired. She went to it and touched the mortar. It had been there a while, the cement had even finished drying.

Not willing to accept that that might mean, she hurried off to the culvert in the park. The area was deserted, so she ran straight in and to the niche to the side of the door. She pulled the lever that should have tripped the mechanism to open the door, but nothing happened. She pulled it several more times, but the door didn’t budge.

Almost in a panic she hurried to a grocery up the street where she knew the owner. She’d shopped there for years, and had been surprised to find out that Sy was a Helper. He had a threshold in his basement. But when she asked, all he could do was shake his head. "I’m sorry, Cathy. I’ve been asked not to let anyone use this threshold unless they live Below or are members of my family."

"Can you send a message Below for me?" she asked.

"Sure, I can do that." He handed her a note pad and pencil that was lying next to the cash register. "Here, use this."

She thought for a moment and then decided that short and to the point was her best approach.

Vincent,

I must talk to you, please!

Catherine

She folded the note twice and wrote his name across it and handed it to Sy. "Thanks, Sy."

She waited three more days before she decided to go back to work. She tried sending another note with Sammie the sandwich guy, but it was never answered either. When nothing else drew results, as a last ditch effort she started spending large parts of every evening in the park, watching the culvert, waiting and hoping that Vincent would come Above to walk in the park and that she would be able to catch him. Sometimes she sat on a bench that had a view of the culvert; at other times she just paced.

Finally, a month after the piano recital, she gave up. She resigned herself to waiting. She was sure that eventually he would come, but obviously it would be on his timetable, not hers.

 

Chapter 1

Five years later:

"So what are you going to do now, Cathy?" asked a worried looking Jenny.

"Get a job," Cathy answered with a smile, "even an attorney position with a small firm should give me enough to live on. My house is paid for, I have a little debt, but I don’t need a car. As long as I can keep the utilities on, feed myself and pay the taxes, I’m good."

"That bad?" asked Jenny.

"Jenny, I don’t see it as that bad. At least I’m healthy, have a profession and a few assets left," Cathy pointed out. "You’ve always lived on a budget, and I never noticed you suffering unduly."

"Yeah, but I had a rich girlfriend who liked to pick up the lunch tab," joked Jenny. "Seriously Cath, Joe said that if the city hadn’t slapped that hiring freeze on him, he’s hire you in a heartbeat."

"I know he would, and I would love to work with him again. Tell him thanks, I really do understand, and believe me, if I’m still looking when the city lifts the freeze I’m going to be the first one in his office, resume in hand."

"It is really hard to believe that this could happen to you."

"I should have been watching my trust fund more closely, paying more attention to what was going on. Dad appointed the law firm as trustee; Jay always handled it all, but when he retired Mark took over. There was always something about Mark that I didn't like; I should have kept a closer watch on what he was doing." Catherine shrugged and sipped her coffee.

"How did you find out what happened?" asked Jenny.

"I got a check quarterly, and when the check didn't show up I called the office and asked for Mark and was told he wasn't in. I asked if there was someone else I could talk about the trust fund and they put me through to an independent auditor who was there. He told me I should come to the office. When I got there he explained to me what had happened; he'd just been sent in by the state two days before and he hadn't sorted it all out yet. Mark has a gambling problem and he cleaned out my trust fund to pay some debts. He left the country. No one knows where he is."

"Not even his father?"

"Not even Jay. He hasn't heard from him since he left nearly a month ago."

"Didn't Jay offer to try to make good on the money?" asked Jenny.

Cathy smiled and shook her head. "Yes, he did, but he doesn't have that kind of cash. When he and daddy started the partnership, it was dad who had the money. All Jay has are a retirement account, and a pension from the firm. But Mark not only took money from my trust, but from firm accounts. Jay gave up his pension to replenish that. If he paid me back, he wouldn't have anything left to live on. His health isn't great and I couldn't do that to him. It isn't his fault that Mark did this."

"You're too nice, Cath," was all Jenny could say as she shook her head.

"Not really. Mark can't come back to this country, if he does he will be arrested. I don't have to be mean and vindictive; the law will take care of that. There are very strict rules when it comes to people who handle other people's money."

"Do you think you'll ever get any of it back?"

"I doubt it. The law firm has gone belly up. The assets were liquidated and the pension fund is all that is left. There just wasn't enough there to reimburse me. And like I said, that is partially my fault, I should have kept a closer eye on Mark, or asked that another lawyer in the firm handle the account when I started to feel that I couldn't trust him. I’ll survive."

"But Cathy, you’ve had a lot to survive in the last few years. I don’t know how you can possibly keep smiling," said Jenny.

"Because if I didn’t, I’d be screaming?" suggested Catherine.

"Well, I would be. Let’s see if I have it straight: first you were assaulted and your face was slashed, and you disappeared for ten days, then you went through three surgeries in five months to repair the bad guys’ handiwork, then you got that job with the DA’s office, where, incidentally you worked for my wonderful husband," she grinned at that.

"To whom, incidentally, I introduced you!" Cathy pointed out.

"Yes, and I will be eternally grateful. Now where was I? Oh yeah, while you worked for the DA, you got yourself into hot water a couple of times and somehow managed to escape by the skin of your teeth."

"With the help of Isaac’s training."

"Then you met Elliot Burch and dated him for a while, dumped him. You managed to get yourself shot while conducting an investigation. You got beat up in your own home, then things were quiet for a while; we didn’t see you much, except at work, your father died, you moved, then you helped Joe expose all that corruption in the city and found out that Moreno was in it up to his ears. You then found out that your dad hadn’t been as well off as he had let you and everyone else believe; you had quite a time clearing that mess up, you quit your job at the DA’s office, and went into hibernation for a while again. Lately you’ve been working as a volunteer at a neighborhood law clinic, and now, last but not least, you find out that your trust fund has been raped and you’re broke. All in the matter of about five years. Does that about sum it up?"

"Make it six years and I think you pretty much have it," said Cathy with a wry smile.

"And you can still smile."

"Well, I’m not exactly dancing with glee, but no amount of weeping and wailing is going to change it, so I might as well smile. At least I have an excellent education and a profession. Don’t worry, Jenn, I’ll find something. Like I said before, my house is paid for, so my expenses are minimal. I would even be able to make it on what they used to pay me at the DA’s office."

Those were brave words and several months later she was remembering them as she signed the papers when she sold the house on Long Island to that nice young couple. She congratulated them and went straight from that lawyer’s office to an interview with a lawyer who specialized in collecting debts. She wasn’t sure that it was the kind of legal work she wanted to do, but right now, she couldn’t be choosy. At least with the sale of the house she was able to pay off her remaining debts and had a little money in the bank again. At the moment she was living in Jenny and Joe’s spare room.

She was sitting in the waiting room waiting for her interview when the young, blond, cheerleaderesque receptionist decided to make conversation.

"Miss Chandler. You look familiar. Have you been here before?" she asked.

"No, I haven’t, but I used to work for the DA’s office. I’ve occasionally been in the newspapers."

"Oh yeah! I remember now. You helped Maxwell expose John Moreno, the dirty DA." She looked pleased with herself for coining a new phrase.

Just then her boss opened the door from his office to beckon Catherine in. "Hey, Uncle Win," she drawled. "Miss Chandler here is the ADA who helped Maxwell clean out the corruption in our city government. Hire her and we will have a celebrity working for us."

"Thanks for that bit of wit, Elise." He nodded at Cathy, "Miss Chandler?" He turned and Cathy followed him into his office and took the chair he offered.

"Please excuse, Elise," he said, once they were both settled. "She is my wife’s, brother’s girl, so I’m kind of stuck with her. She can be pretty good at her job, it is just her people skills that stink."

"The benefits of nepotism," Cathy joked.

"Something like that," he agreed. "But now that Elise has brought it up, why would you be looking for work here? Wasn’t your father Chandler of ‘Chandler and Coolidge’?"

"He was, but when he died a few years ago I was still with the DA’s office and the Coolidges of ‘Chandler and Coolidge’ bought me out. Jay and Mark were the only partners in the firm and now due to some problems, the partnership has been dissolved and the firm no longer exists."

"I remember seeing that in the papers lately. Mark Coolidge embezzled money from the firm and some of the trust funds they managed."

"That's right," she said.

"I guess you are glad they quit using the Chandler name." he said.

"Yes, I gave them permission to continue using it as long as I continued to approve of the way they did business, but after the elder Coolidge, Jay, retired, Mark chose to drop the Chandler. I'm glad he did when I found out what he had done. Most of my father and Jay Coolidge’s colleagues still called it 'Chandler and Coolidge'."

"I'm sure if you'd gone back to them they could have reestablished their good reputation."

"No, I don't think so. Mark destroyed the reputation of the firm. They have let everyone go, but Mr. Martin, I thought I was here to interview for a job. Shouldn’t we be talking about my qualifications and going over my resume?"

"You’re right, Miss Chandler, I’m sorry," he said, picking up a copy of her resume from the desk. "Actually, your resume is very impressive, and I know about your record while you were with the DA’s office, but I was wondering why you quit your job there, and why you haven’t been working for the last few years."

Those were the same questions everyone had asked; she was expecting it and she had an answer. "My father died, we were very close. I tried to stay on and keep working, but I needed some time for myself and to clear up his estate. It wasn’t fair to ask the DA’s office for a leave of absence and leave them short handed; I quit so they could hire someone. And I have been working, but only as a volunteer at a neighborhood law clinic down in the village. If you will check the court dockets you will see my name on many cases; I’ve stayed busy."

After she give her little recitation, Mr. Martin made some small talk, asked a few more irrelevant questions and she knew that she wasn’t going to get that job. When she left, she thanked him as warmly as she would have if he’d just offered her a job paying $250,000 a year, and she left.

She’d run out of law offices to apply for work as a lawyer, and within a couple weeks she’d exhausted everything else she could think of. She applied for law clerk positions, and was told she was over qualified; she applied for legal secretary jobs, and was told she wasn’t qualified because she didn’t take shorthand. She even applied for sales positions in a couple dozen stores and was told that her face was too well known, and it would make customers uncomfortable to be waited on by the Catherine Chandler. She’d given up and was formulating another plan when her Godfather, Dr. Peter Alcott asked her out to dinner.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

"Any luck with the job hunt?" he asked after he greeted her with a hug and they were seated.

She shook her head, "No, I’ve heard every excuse in the book why they can’t hire me, and I’m beginning to feel like I’m wearing out my welcome at Jenny and Joe’s."

"Honey, I’m sure you’re not," he argued.

"Well, they say I’m not, but they won’t take any money, and it just doesn’t feel right. Joe may be the DA, but he’s not making a huge salary. Jenny is still on maternity leave so they are living on one income. I have to find something."

"You could come live with me. I'm retiring at the end of the year and would love the company. You’d even have the place to yourself from the beginning of November to the first of April every year starting next year; I plan to spend the winders in New Mexico with Susan and her family. That way you could invest the money you have left from the sale of the house and take your time about finding a job, or better yet, set up your own practice. You could even work out of the house; use my old office, it has a separate entrance," he said.

Cathy smiled and reached across the table to take his hand. "Thank you Peter, but I really couldn’t. It wouldn’t be long and I would be feeling just like I do now, or worse; it could be too easy to get comfortable with you and just give up the whole thing and start to feel sorry for myself."

"Honey," he said patting her hand, "you’re entitled. You’ve been through a hell of a lot the last few years."

She almost teared up at that, "Maybe, but I’m strong," then she added under her breath, "Vincent used to tell me that!"

Peter had glanced down at his menu, but his head snapped up and he stared at her for a moment. "Who?" he asked.

"Oh, um…Vincent. Just someone I used to know."

Peter was looking at her a little strangely then suddenly something seemed to dawn on him. "Honey, I’m going to ask you something now that might sound odd. If it does and it doesn’t make any sense to you, then just ignore it; chalk it up to the ramblings of an old man, but if it does make sense then please let me know."

She nodded, "OK, but you’re not old!" she said with a watery smile.

"A matter of opinion," he said. "I just have one question. Are you Vincent’s Catherine?"

She almost choked on her water, she looked into Peter’s eyes. "I used to be," she whispered.

"Cathy, how long…?" he asked, taking her hand.

"Since April, 1987, when I was assaulted. It was Vincent who found me in the park. He took me Below and he, Father and Mary took care of me. But how…" her voice broke and she looked bewildered.

"How do I fit in?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I’ve known Jacob Wells, Father, since I was an intern. He was Chief Resident where I did my internship. He called me when they first found Vincent; said he needed someone who had actually practiced medicine. He was a doctor, but hadn’t done much in the practical sense since his residency, just research. I was one of the first Helpers. I’ve been providing medical supplies for years."

"So you’ve known Vincent all his life?"

"Yes. I never dreamed that my two favorite patients would fall in love, much less ever meet," he studied her face a moment. "You were in love, weren’t you?"

"Yes. I think he was and I know I am, but Vincent banned me from Below and I haven’t seen him or anyone Below in ages. I have no idea how he feels now. For all I know he’s found someone else."

"I think I can assure you that he hasn’t. If I’d known you were the Catherine that everyone Below was talking about, I would have said something sooner. But they aren’t much on last names, and I’ve always thought of you as Cathy. I never made the connection. As they say, it is a small world…

They broke off their conversation to give their orders, then were quiet for a few more minutes as they both gathered their thoughts.

"But you were going to tell me what you plan to do to work your way out of the mess you are in," Peter finally said. "You sure you won’t come and stay with me? You are my Goddaughter and one of the responsibilities of a Godfather is to look after you if your parents can’t."

"Thank you Peter, but I’m a big girl now; I wouldn’t feel right about it, at least not while I still have other options." She broke off with a sniffle when the waiter came over to serve their drinks and she had herself back under tight control when he left.

"Besides, I have an idea and you being a Helper makes it much easier to explain. I can actually tell you the truth." she declared with a shaky smile, as she toyed with the stem of her wine glass.

"I’m listening," he said matching her tone. "Shoot."

"Maybe you can even help me. When I sold the house, I still had debts to pay, so I took care of everything and am now debt free. There is some money left, not a huge amount but not peanuts either. Right now it is in the bank, but it isn’t drawing very much interest. I plan to invest most of it. It probably won’t make a lot of money, but it will do better than a savings account. And I’m just going to leave it alone for a while. My next step after that is make an appointment to see Father." She took a deep breath. "I’m going to request sanctuary Below...Do you think Father will talk to me?" she asked anxiously.

"Of course Jacob will talk to you, but are you sure that is what you want to do?" Peter was incredulous.

"Yes, there I can be a contributing member of the community, and can earn my keep, I can teach, or take care of children, or dip candles; hell, I could even learn to cook and help William out. That is what people Above don’t seem to get; I just want to work. I need a job to make money to support myself, but I can’t even get a job in this town selling pantyhose," she sighed in exasperation. "And by going Below, I can drop out of sight. I really need to get away from all the well meaning friends. When I say I'm going to ask for sanctuary, I actually mean that. I need the peace and quiet."

"Have you thought of going out of town?" he asked. "Your degree and your record could get you a job anywhere in the country."

"I know. That is actually going to be my cover story to everyone Above. I've applied for work out of state, but I don't want to really leave, everything and everyone I love is in New York. I don’t have any family, just you, Jenny, Joe and little Joey and Cate; Nancy and her family are close. There was a time when I could count everyone Below as family; maybe I’ll get lucky and be able to again."

"And Vincent?"

"I know I won’t have his vote on the council, but there are six other members; maybe I’ll have enough on my side to be allowed to go Below."

Peter nodded and looked thoughtful. "When do you want to talk to Jacob?" he asked.

"Give me a few days to prepare my arguments," she gave him a weak smile. "How about Sunday sometime?"

"OK, I’ll talk to him for you and find out when it will be convenient and let you know. I won’t tell him any of your reasons for wanting the meeting."

"Thanks Peter," she breathed a sigh of relief.

"He will be surprised to find out that you are my Goddaughter."