Written in 56 minutes.

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Taggert stared at the photos, took a deep breath, then raised his burning gaze to Jordan. “This is my daughter.”

“Marcus—”

“You had surveillance on this guy, didn’t you?” He slapped the evidence photos back on her desk, and she flinched at the slap they made against the wood. “You told me you were watching Baker—”

“I was—”

“Then how did you miss him stalking my daughter? Damn it, Jordan—”

“I—”

“He was doing time for blackmailing a teenage girl over photographs he took of her! And your guys let him around more teens with a camera?” Taggert stabbed a finger at her. “And they did nothing—”

“They—” Jordan sank into her seat, stared blindly at the surveillance report, then raised her eyes to Taggert. “No one was ever in danger. No one, okay? I made sure of that—”

He stared at her, and the horror crept into his eyes. “You didn’t miss it. You saw it. They saw him taking pictures of those girls.”

Jordan swallowed hard, nodded. “I knew why he was doing it. He was following girls who were connected to Elizabeth Morgan. I thought he was focusing on Emma because she looks like Elizabeth did back then—” Taggert turned away from, and Jordan got back to her feet. “But nothing happened, okay? I just—he was careless about it. I knew they’d tell an adult. I knew it’d get back to Morgan—” She put her hands flat on the desk, leaned forward. “Listen to me, Marcus. I was right! Elizabeth saw Baker in the park a few weeks ago. And now he’s dead. She ran right to her husband—”

Taggert turned back to Jordan. “What? What do you mean?”

“Before we pulled the surveillance on Baker—my officer saw Baker in the park taking photos of the girls. And saw Elizabeth Morgan hurry into the clearing, and get the girls out. She looked worried. We waited to see what would happen—” She gritted her teeth. “I was wrong. I thought Morgan would do the job himself because it was personal—”

“You had a cop in the bushes watching Tom Baker take photos of my daughter—he could have gone after Trina because of me, Jordan—” Taggert clenched his hands into a fist.  “You put those girls at risk—”

“They were never—” Jordan took a deep breath. “They were never at risk, Marcus. You have to believe me. If Baker had made a move, they had orders to stop it. But there’s no crime against being in public and taking photos. I just—”

“You decided it was worth the risk to get Morgan, and with him, goes Corinthos. You know, I wasn’t always proud of myself when I worked here—I was narrow minded and I lost objectivity.” His eyes burned into hers. “But I never put an innocent kid at risk to get someone. And what did it get you, Jordan? Baker’s dead and there’s no leads. You can’t even prove murder.” His mouth stretched into a grim smile. “And Jason Morgan is alibi’d by three former police commissioners. The fucking irony—”

Jordan hissed. “I know he did it—his wife is pregnant. There’s no way he was going to keep Baker living once she found out about the photos. About the stalking.”

“You gambled and you lost, and for this—” Taggert stabbed a finger into a photograph of Emma and Trina in the park. “You deserve it. And when the press finds out about this—and they will—you already told me Elizabeth knows Baker was stalking the girls. You think she won’t go to the press if you keep going after her husband?”

“Tom Baker did his time,” Jordan said coldly. “You either believe in the system or you don’t. You don’t get to pick and choose—”

“Why not? You did. You decided the risk was worth it. You chose to let Tom Baker stalk teenagers so you could get this department’s holy grail. And that’s why you lost. That’s why I lost. Why Mac and everyone else who ever went after Morgan and Corinthos. You made it personal. You deserve whatever comes next.”

Kelly’s: Diner

Trina dropped her books down with a thud next to Joss and flopped into a chair. “I am going to fail algebra,” she said with a huff. “There’s not a prayer in the world—”

“You are not.” Emma rolled her eyes and reached for the green folder in Trina’s stack to retrieve the quiz. “You have to stop rushing.”

“Why does there have to be letters?” Trina demanded of Joss. “Weren’t numbers good enough?”

“Apparently not,” Joss began, but then stopped when she saw Emma’s face pale as she scrolled through her phone. “Emma?”

“I was—I was gonna look up this math app, but—I got this notification from the news—” Emma raised her eyes, looked at Trina. “A few weeks ago, last month, I think. There was that weird guy in the court yard.”

“Yeah?”

Emma handed her phone to Trina and her eyes widened. “But look at the story, Treen—”

“What’s going on?” Joss asked, and Trina showed her the phone. “Tom Baker, former photographer to the stars, found dead,” she read. “Tom Baker—” She pursed her lips. “Wait, why is that name familiar?”

“It’s the guy who hurt Aunt Liz,” Emma said. “Dad said it was the guy who blackmailed Cam’s aunt, Emily. The one who died. So I looked it up. Tom Baker. But he’s the guy who I saw outside. And I saw him at the hospital.”

Joss took the phone to look more closely at the picture. “I saw him a few times at the hospital. And in the park,” she realized. “Weird.”

“I didn’t even know he was out of prison,” Trina said. “But he’s dead now.”

“Good,” Emma said. “I know it’s bad to want people dead, but people like him don’t get to live.”

“No.” Joss stared at the face of the man who had hurt Cam’s mom, the same woman who had waited all night for her after the dance. And found her on the street. “People who rape women deserve to die.

General Hospital: Ultrasound Room

Elizabeth laid back and forced a smile at Jason, who returned it. But it was lined with the same heavy tension that had been there for the last week. Since Tom Baker’s body had been discovered.

She was going to tell him. She’d always planned to do it eventually, but now that it was over, she found herself struggling with how to start the conversation. She and Jason didn’t talk about these kinds of things. He never talked to her about what he did as Sonny’s enforcer, and she didn’t ask. She knew he’d taken lives, and had mad her peace with it.

But what she’d done — it was different. It had been murder. Cold-blooded, premeditated murder. It was one thing for him to get his own hands dirty, and maybe he hadn’t minded when she’d killed Stavros — but it had been the heat of the moment.

Now that it was safer to tell Jason, she was starting to have doubts that he’d see it the way she had. That he’d understand she’d only lied to protect him. To protect the boys. And he’d be furious, she admitted, that she’d put herself—and their unborn child at risk.

“Hey,” Jason murmured as the ultrasound technician came in. “You all right?”

“Good. Just nervous. I don’t know why,” she admitted. “I’ve been through this a few times—” But never quite like this. She and Jason had never done this together. And she regretted that it was tainted by the tension. By the secret. God, why had she lied on Thanksgiving? Why had it been so important for her to keep the secret until the discovery of the body?

“Are we ready?” the technician asked with a bright smile. “Dr. Westbourne will be here in a minute to read the image, but we’re going to get to started.”

“Ready.” Elizabeth tugged up her sweater, and flinched as the cool gel was spread across the curve of her belly. Then the ultrasound wand started to move gently across. Elizabeth watched the screen, smiling as the sounds of the baby’s heartbeat came across. Then frowned—because it sounded different than any of her other children. She looked at Jason who was tilting his head, a bit confused as well.

Britt Westbourne came in, a wide smile across her face. “Good morning. Sorry, I’m just a bit late—let’s take a look—” She tilted the screen, then raised her eyebrows. “Well—”

“There’s something wrong, isn’t there?” Elizabeth said, her voice tight. “I can hear—”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Britt reassured them both. “It’s just—” She gestured at the screen. “You’re hearing double. There are two heartbeats.”

Elizabeth stared at the doctor for a long moment, the words not processing. “What—”

“Two heartbeats,” Britt repeated gently. “Twins.” She pointed again. “One heart, and there’s the other.”

“Twins,” Jason echoed, and even he seemed a bit flustered. “That’s…there are two of them. They’re—” He stopped, took a deep breath. “There are two of them?”

“Looks like it. I’d wondered after your last appointment,” Britt told Elizabeth. “You were measuring a bit bigger than I’d thought, and I’d heard an echo. But I wanted to be sure. Congratulations!”

Even after they’d left the office, Elizabeth couldn’t quite find the words. They stood by the elevators, and she stared at the sonogram. “Twins.”

“Two,” Jason echoed. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, we, uh, wanted to do it all over again.”

“Yeah, but twins—they usually run in the family,” Elizabeth said. She peered at him curiously. “I don’t remember any twins on my side—”

“Well, I never knew my biological mother,” Jason pointed out. “Maybe—” He shook his head. “This is—it’s good news,” he decided. “It’s just—”

“Scary,” Elizabeth confirmed, and he smiled in return. “Terrifying. But—kind of amazing. ” She pressed a hand against her belly. “Two babies. At once. We’re going to be so outnumbered.”

“It’ll be okay.” He drew her in for a tight hug, and she clung to him. “Jake and Aiden already  offered to share a room. You raised three great boys—”

“You’ve been here for three years, Jason.” She drew back. “You get some of that credit. We raised them. And now we get to do it again. Not many people get to say they’re almost doubling the number of kids in one shot, but here we go.”

“Yeah.” Jason stared at her for a moment, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “We have some time before we have to be home for the bus. You wanna take a ride?”

“You don’t even have to ask.”

Scorpio-Drake House: Living Room

Robin’s smile was nervous as she came in from the front hall. “Hey. I didn’t realize you’d be home,” she said to her husband. “Didn’t you have a surgery?”

“Got cancelled.” Patrick flipped through the television channels, his feet propped up on the coffee table. “Thought I’d relax a little.”

Robin sat next to him, biting her lip. “Um, we haven’t really—I mean, we’ve been running on crazy schedules this week,” she said finally. “And I didn’t want to say anything around Emma, but—”

Patrick frowned, put the television on mute to focus on her. “What’s up?”

“Tom Baker was found dead,” Robin said, watching his face intently. Nothing changed, but maybe there was something, just a twitch around his eyes. “The PCPD already questioned Jason, but lucky for us, you and Elizabeth suggested we do Thanksgiving here. So he’s got a lot of people who saw him.’

“Yeah, I saw that in the paper. About Baker,” Patrick added. “Did you hear an update or something? Do they know what happened?”

“Uh. No. I think they’re waiting on a tox screen, but the papers said there was a history of heart trouble.” Robin smiled nervously. “Seems kind of..anti-climactic, doesn’t it? He gets out of prison, stirs everything up, and then just…dies in his sleep—”

“More than he deserved,” Patrick bit out, and she stopped, frowning at him. “He deserved worse,” he clarified. “When I think about how Elizabeth handled seeing him again—it’s not right. He should have been eaten alive by lions. Or wolves.”

“Yeah, I guess. But people don’t always get what they deserve,” Robin pointed out. “At least we don’t have to think about him hurting anyone.”

“No. We don’t.” Patrick turned back to the television, flipped through the channels again, and Robin settled back against the sofa cushions, wondering if maybe she was just going to have to ask him straight out if he’d murdered Tom Baker.

There should really be Hallmark cards for these kinds of things.

Vista Point

They’d been together for four years, and married for nearly three—and every single week, Jason had made sure that he’d taken Elizabeth out for a ride on the cliff roads—short, long, fast and reckless, or a bit more restrained—it was something they’d shared since the beginning, and he thought that it might be a way to resolve this terrible tension.

He’d waited for her to come to him, sure as the days passed without further word from he PCPD, that she would confide in him, that she’d want him to check and be sure that the crime had left no trail—

But after today, after looking at the screen—seeing and hearing the heartbeat of the two children they were going to bring into this world—Jason  couldn’t stand the secrets hanging between them anymore.

So he took her on the cliff roads, took the turns faster than maybe he should, considering Elizabeth was nearly four months pregnant—but he wanted her to be relaxed. And he wanted her to remember who they were. Who he was.

Jason parked the bike at Vista Point, the highest point in Port Charles, and she eagerly went to the overlook, leaning over the guardrail to breathe in the clear, fresh air. “This is probably one of my favorite places,” she murmured, tilting her head up to the sky. “I love it here.”

“Me, too.” Jason leaned against the guard rail, his back to the harbor, their shoulders brushing. “I need to ask you something.”

He could feel her tense next to him, her body stilling. “What?”

“Tom Baker.” Jason straightened, then touched her shoulder, turning him towards him so that their eyes met. “You and Patrick. On Thanksgiving. You killed Baker, didn’t you?”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “Yes,” she said softly. “I killed him. Not Patrick. He was just there if anything went wrong. I did it. I gave him the injection. And I watched him until he stopped breathing. And I’m not sorry.”

+32

Written in 60 minutes.

Morgan House: Driveway

Jason watched as Jordan and Nathan climbed back into the car and drove away, but he didn’t look at his wife. Couldn’t.

He’d gone to Robin, they’d discussed the possibility, but until this moment—until Jordan had showed them the photographs of what had been on Tom Baker’s wall—photos of his wife. Of Joss. Of Emma and Trina—he realized he hadn’t truly believed it.

Baker had been stalking his wife and young women close to her for months. And Jason hadn’t known. Couldn’t have known, thanks to the PCPD tying his hands—but Elizabeth—

She’d found out. She’d learned the truth, and she hadn’t told him. She must have. He and Robin had wondered what had triggered Baker’s death after all these months—

When the car had disappeared, Jason’s chest eased a bit. He looked down at Elizabeth whose gaze was still trained on the horizon where Jordan’s SUV had turned. Her face was pale, and she’d crossed her arms tightly. “Elizabeth—”

“You told me they had guys following Baker,” Elizabeth said, her voice still shaky. “From the moment they learned what he was and what he’d done to me, the PCPD had eyes on him.” A tear slid down her cheek. “They missed it. They didn’t know. Those photos—” She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Nothing happened.” Jason drew her against him, holding her tight. He knew they needed to have a conversation about Baker—about why she’d done this on her own—why she hadn’t trusted him—but it wasn’t his priority right now. “Nothing. Everyone is safe. Including you.”

“They could have kept men on him,” Elizabeth said, fisting her hands in his shirt, looking at him. Her eyes searching his. “But they were watching you instead. Jordan wanted you and Sonny more than keeping those girls safe.”

He squinted slightly—and thought now of that conversation when the surveillance had been pulled on Baker. He swallowed hard — she’d used him for information. Another reason Baker had only recently died. There had been no one watching his comings and goings.

The yellow bus from the middle school turned a corner, stopping a block away—the normal bus stop. He cleared his throat. “Jake’s home. Aiden and Cam will be here in a bit.”

“I’m going to go wash my face.” Elizabeth swiped at her eyes. “Wait—” She frowned. “Jordan never said how he died. Just that there was no cause of death.”

“Yeah. Maybe it was natural causes,” Jason said. “I’ll have someone find out.” And he’d try to think of the right way to ask his pregnant wife if she and her best friend had planned and carried out the murder of her rapist. He exhaled slowly, watching her go inside. He should just ask her straight out, but she’d already lied to him. Would she keep lying?

He watched as Jake raced towards the house, their bright, beautiful miracle on his way home from school. Thought again of that day in Greece when Elizabeth had killed Stavros Cassadine. She was capable of anything when it came to protecting the people she loved.

“Dad! Dad!” Jake was breathless as he approached. “I did it! I got an A in math! You promised I could have the Playstation in my room for the whole week—”

Jason pushed Baker’s death out of his head and reached for the paper from the triumphant student.

Inside, Elizabeth had gone upstairs to splash water on her face. She looked at herself in the mirror. Jordan had come to ask those questions even after she’d seen the photos. If she kept coming after Jason, if Jordan tried to break Jason’s alibi, she’d make sure the entire world knew about those photos. She’d worked too hard to protect him from this—she’d even lied to him—

She’d be damned if Jordan was going to screw it up for her now.

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Jordan was seething when she stormed back in the office. “An alibi,” she muttered. “A perfect alibi—”

“Maybe it was the heart problems,” Nathan offered as he closed the door. “There’s a history in the file. He wasn’t in great shape. CSU says no signs of forced entry—”

“They’re missing something—”

“Like we did?”

Jordan turned to the detective. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Nathan flipped open the file and held up the one of Baker’s room. “Elizabeth Morgan had a good question. Baker was on parole. How did he manage to take all these photos of teen aged girls? We had surveillance on Baker for weeks. You’re telling me he did this under their noses?”

Jordan scowled. “We don’t pick our victim—”

“Say you get evidence that Morgan did this,” Nathan interrupted. “You’re going to want motive, right? The rape of his wife. A jury is going to see those photos. They’re going to think whatever happened to Baker isn’t so bad. Because at least they stopped him before another girl got attacked.”

She hissed. “And you agree with them, don’t you?”

“You rolled a dice, Commissioner,” Nathan said. “You thought Jason or Sonny might take this opportunity to go after Baker. You waited for two months. And when the budget was strained, you didn’t keep the guys on Baker. He’s dead two weeks after we pull his surveillance. I think, judging by the photos in his room, maybe we got lucky.”

“We don’t pick our victims—”

“I hear you, and I’m going to investigate. We’ll canvass the neighborhood. We’ll go over the house, but Commissioner — I’m telling you — no jury in the world would convict this guy. You don’t even have a cause of death.”

“They’re smart. They waited for Thanksgiving, surrounded themselves by family and former cops—they must have hired someone.” Jordan shook her head. “I’m not giving up.”

“Like I said, we’ll run out the leads. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Nathan took the case file and returned to the squad room. He opened the file again, looked at the close-ups of Baker’s photographs.  He’d do the job, but he really didn’t care if Baker was dead.

Justice came in all forms.

Morgan House: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth rubbed lotion into her hands, watching Jason from her mirror as he changed. He’d been quiet all day, and she wondered if he suspected something. Or if he was worried about her because of the photographs.

She’d kept the truth from him because he never would have let her take care of this. He’d have insisted on doing it himself — and the PCPD was watching. What if they’d watched one of the men who worked for Jason? No, she couldn’t take that chance. And she’d kept lying because Jason couldn’t know anything until the body was discovered.

But she’d slipped up on Thanksgiving, and now she worried that he’d started to pull at the threads.

“I nearly killed Baker when I was a kid,” she found herself saying. Jason stilled, standing at the dresser, his back still her. “At the studio. After he’d locked Emily and I up. Lucky and Nikolas got to us—but Baker got there before we could leave.”

She stared down at her wedding ring, twisted it. “There was a fight, and the gun was just on the floor. I grabbed it, and I held it on him. I didn’t shoot him. I could have. Self-defense. Being held hostage. Protecting others. But I wanted him arrested. I wanted to see him go to jail and pay for what he’d done.”

He turned and their eyes met in the mirror. “But he didn’t get charged with your attack.”

“No. I was stunned. Devastated when Taggert told me there wasn’t enough evidence. He’d confessed to me, but then said I was just a scared little girl who didn’t understand what he’d said. It’d be my word against his.” She exhaled slowly. “Not only was he not going to get charged with it, but my case was being put on the shelf. They were going to stop investigating. I’d done everything wrong from the moment that night started. I lied. I went to the park. And I took a shower—”

“Hey.” Jason came around the bed, sat on the edge. “You did the best you could—”

“Lucky told me not to shower. He told me to stay right where I was. He was going to get help. But I could—” Elizabeth’s throat tightened, and she was back in the terrible night, curled up in that chair, sweet Foster’s head resting on her knee. What a lovely dog he’d been— “I could still smell him. I could feel him—” On her. Inside. She shook her head to clear it. “But you know what I regret more than that shower?”

“What?”

She met his eyes again in the mirror. “I should have killed him then.” Please. Her eyes begged him. If he suspected anything, please, she wanted him to understand. What she’d done had been justice, long overdue.

“Emily wanted to testify against him,” Jason reminded her quietly. “She wanted to be brave like you—”

“Emily would have understood. She killed her rapist, too.”

He nodded. “Yeah,” he said finally. “She would have understood.”

“I’ll never know,” she murmured. Then she closed her eyes, her shoulders began to tremble. “I’ll never know if it would have helped.”

“Elizabeth—” Jason tugged her off the stool and next to him. “Hey—”

“The nightmares — they used to come all the time, and then they’d go away, but never forever—they never went away forever—but if he’d died years ago—if I had shot him then—I’ll never know—”

He rocked her in his arms as she continued to sob for the girl who’d been lost all those years ago, and still hadn’t found her way home.

Later that night, when Elizabeth had finally fallen asleep, her eyes red and puffy, Jason slipped out of bed and went downstairs to the back deck where a man waited.

“I got copies,” the man said handing over the manila folder. “So far, the case is a dead end. Looks like natural causes—”

“Autopsy won’t be final for a few days,” Jason murmured. “The photos in the bedroom?”

“I got those, too. From CSU—”

Jason found them — the photo of the girls in the park. Elizabeth at the hospital. And photos that looked like posed candids—of Emma with her family. Baker had focused most of the photos on Emma—a pretty brunette around the age Elizabeth had been.

But there was one of Joss that made his blood run cold. Standing in Kelly’s courtyard, in that red dress the night of the dance. Baker had been there that night. He’d been the noises she’d heard.  How close they’d come that night to devastation.

“Let me know if the autopsy comes back,” Jason said. “If it says anything other than what the prelim does.”

“You got it.”

The man melted away and Jason went into the house, into the room at the back of the house that served as an office. He stored the file in the lockbox in the closet. So far Elizabeth had gotten away with it. The crime scene was clean, no signs anyone else had been in the house.

He wondered what the plan was — to lie to him forever? Or was there a moment when he was to be told?

Jason rubbed his chest, thought of how to handle it. Should he just make sure it went away and hope she’d tell him in her own time? It hurt, he finally admitted, that she’d hint around it and not tell him straight out. She’d all but told him that night. But she wouldn’t say the words.

Did he wait until the PCPD found something or should he push her now to get rid of anything before it could be found?

There was no easy answers. He went back up stairs to lay beside his wife, but he didn’t sleep.

General Hospital: Roof

“I know you don’t feel the cold,” Robin complained as she joined Jason the next morning, “but did we really have to meet up here—”

“Did you say anything to Patrick yesterday?” Jason asked as he handed her a copy of the autopsy report.

“No. He’d heard about it at work and mentioned it.” Her lips twisted in a smile. “Like it was gossip he was sharing. I think I’m concerned he’s too good at this.” She skimmed the autopsy, nodding. “History of heart arrhythmia,” she murmured. “Did you see this?”

“Yeah. I thought that might be something.”

“Heart arrhythmia means it could be natural,” Robin admitted. “It can be fatal if it’s not taken care of. Massive heart attacks. He could have died in his sleep—” She scanned the notes. “No defensive wounds. Body looks clean. Um—there are drugs that could have done it—but there’s no sign of injection. So either it was missed or it was ingested.” She squinted, then looked at him. “But unless the labs come back with some sort of poison, there’s no way this gets marked as anything but natural or, at worst, undetermined.”

“The labs they sent out—can you tell anything from that?” Jason wanted to know.

“Uh—” She flipped through the lab order. “Pretty standard tox screen. It’ll pick up most things.” She handed it back to him. “Honestly, Jason, if it weren’t for Thanksgiving, I might write this off as a natural death. The heart was in really bad condition, and decomposition over three days in a closed up house — it’ll make it hard to see if that was the cause.” Robin bit her lip. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess you didn’t ask Elizabeth about any of this, did you?”

“No. I didn’t. I wanted to, but—” Jason’s mouth tightened. “Baker was watching the girls,” he confessed. “He had photos of Elizabeth, but a lot of them were Emma. Some of Trina. And one of Joss at Kelly’s after the dance.”

“Oh my God—” Robin brought her hands to her face. “He was there that night—”

“Elizabeth said Joss heard sounds. If she hadn’t followed—” Jason shook his head, looked out over the city. “I don’t care that she did this,” he told Robin. “I just—”

“She lied to you.” Robin closed her eyes. “But the pictures—it explains why Patrick agreed.” She touched Jason’s arm. “I’m telling you that unless the tox screen comes back with a poison or there’s something on the scene, they’re in the clear. If Elizabeth lied, you know she had a good reason.”

“She’s pregnant, Robin—” Jason bit out. “And she went into that house—”

“And came back out. She was protecting her girls—” Robin thought of her daughter. “And if she did do this, if she did this to look after Emma and keep her safe, there’s no way in hell I’m going to be angry about it. She did what had to be done.”

+36

Written in 61 minutes.

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

“No, no, I told you. I’ll handle this myself. Yeah—I’ve been waiting for this.” Jordan hung up the phone and looked across the desk at Nathan West. “Get the surveillance report on Morgan and Corinthos for the last few days—” She got to her feet, tucking her gun in the holster at her back and clipping the badge to her belt. “That was Baker’s parole officer. He missed his appointment today and he hasn’t been to work since Thanksgiving.”

Nathan furrowed his brow. “I’ll pull the report, Commissioner, but if they saw a crime—”

“I never expected to catch them in the act.” Jordan jerked a shoulder and went towards the door. “All I have to do is put them in the area.”

Nathan pulled out his cell phone to make the call, but he wasn’t sure why Jordan was so confident—they’d need a whole lot more to put someone away than being in the area where a crime was committed.

Port Charles High School: Hallway

Joss pulled her algebra book from the shelf and tossed it in her bag. She slammed the locker shut, then jumped at the sight of Emma and Trina right next to it. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry—” Emma elbowed Trina. “Go ahead.”

“Um, about Thanksgiving—” Trina began.

“No, don’t bother. I’m not interested in another truce that’s only going to last until you get annoyed with me again.” Joss slung her bag over her shoulder. “We’ve been irritating each other since the sand box. You don’t like me, and I—” She paused. “Well, you don’t like me. We don’t have to keep pretending—”

“No, just wait—” Emma snagged Joss by the elbow. “I feel bad because we did totally call a truce, and Trina was just saying that we haven’t pulled any pranks since the hair dye—”

“Which you deserved—”

“Because I told Oscar Nero that crap about you—yeah, well, I only did that because of what you told him,” Joss reminded her, and Trina made a face.

“Wait, what did you say?” Emma frowned. “Treen?”

“I—” Trina hissed. “I told Oscar that Joss’s mom is, like, a crazy person. Like, certifiably insane. Um, that she’s done time in a mental institution. Which isn’t really a lie—”

“Trina—” Emma scowled. “That’s almost as bad as Thanksgiving—”

“I know I did a lot of things when we were kids—I said things,” Joss corrected, “that I didn’t know were hurtful. And you’re never really going to like me because of it, Trina. I get it. I’m not looking for you to like me. We’re not friends.”

“It’s been pointed out to me,” Trina said slowly, “that we’re not kids anymore and we shouldn’t be acting like it.”

“I’m not looking for us to be okay,” Joss said. “I just—I just want it to be civil. When Cam’s around. He’s my best friend. I don’t want to lose that.”

“And you shouldn’t. Cam was really pissed about last week. He was right. We were totally out of line, and I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” Trina offered.

“Okay.” Joss nodded. “Um, thanks, I guess.”  The warning bell rang. “I gotta go, or I’m gonna get detention again.” She headed to class, but felt a bit lighter. Maybe things were going to be okay.

Baker House: Living Room

Jordan knew as soon as they got inside the house—the smell of sewage permeated the small, one-story house.

“Call for CSU,” Jordan told one of the officers, then nodded to Nathan. “Let’s go.” She headed towards the smell, across the living room, and down the short hallway—the bedroom door had been left open—

They could see Tom Baker sprawled on his back, simply laying as if he were asleep. Nathan approached the bed, coming around Jordan. He tapped the exposed foot—and it moved. “Body’s out of rigor,” he told Jordan.

“Looking at least twenty-four hours—” Jordan clicked on her flashlight, moved it around the room. “And judging by the smell and the missed shift on Thursday evening—” Her light stopped on the wall opposite of the bed. Her flashlight illuminated several photos pinned up. “What are those—”

Nathan went to take a closer look, his jaw clenching. “That’s Maxie’s little cousin, Emma. And Carly’s kid, Joss. Hell, that’s Morgan’s wife.”  He turned back to Jordan. “And there’s another girl I’ve seen around Emma—”

“Trina,” Jordan murmured. Marcus’s little girl. Pinned up on the wall of a man suspected of rape. She exhaled slowly. “He’s got pictures of teenaged girls—”

“And one adult woman.” Nathan stepped even closer. “Shit, Commissioner, he was stalking them—” He turned back to Baker. “No signs of foul play—if Morgan did this, why did he leave the photos up?”

“To make sure we knew what he was,” Jordan murmured. Her stomach twisted. Oh, God. Had Tom Baker hunted girls connected to Elizabeth and Marcus? “I don’t care what it looks like. We treat it like a murder until the autopsy comes back.”

She looked back at the body. “We work it until we know the truth, Nathan. We don’t pick the victim—”

“No, but he sure hell did,” Nathan retorted.

“Detective—’

“Yeah, I got the message. We don’t pick the victim. We just find the answers.”

Greystone: Living Room

Sonny closed the double doors  behind Jason and turned to his partner, his face somber and pale. “I got a call from the PCPD—”

“What’s wrong? You look like—” Jason stilled. “Is it one of the kids? Morgan—”

“No. No. Nothing like that—” Sonny shook his head. “Baker’s dead.”

“Baker—” Jason stared at him. “I don’t—what are you talking about?”

“Parole called in a welfare check after a missed appointment. Baker hasn’t shown for work since Thursday evening. Thanksgiving,” Sonny clarified. “They found him in his house.”

“What happened?” Jason’s chest tightened, and he thought of the strange conversation with Robin—

“No signs of foul play,” Sonny said. “So it might be natural, but she’s gonna look at us hard.” He smiled faintly. “Aren’t we lucky we’ve got a good alibi for the entire day? Jordan can ask a couple of former cops, WSB agents, and commissioners about us.”

“Yeah,” Jason said slowly. “Lucky for us.”

“I thought you might want to tell Elizabeth yourself. I didn’t think she should hear it through the grapevine.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll make sure to get to her.” Jason left then, and pulled out his phone as he left the house. But it wasn’t Elizabeth he called—

He had a feeling she wouldn’t be surprised.

“Jason?”

“Robin. Where are you?”

“At home. Why?”

“Stay there. I’ll be right there.”

Scorpio-Drake House: Living Room

Robin hadn’t seen Jason this unsettled in a long time, but as her ex-boyfriend paced the room, she started to get worried. “Jason—”

“Thanksgiving. Who’s idea was it this year?” he wanted to know. He stopped, looked at her. “I mean, Elizabeth and I usually go to Sonny’s. You’ve never invited Sonny here. ”

“No, I guess—” Robin tipped her head. “It was Patrick’s, I think. He said it would be funny to have Sonny here with my dad and Uncle Mac, and I figured why not—Jason, what’s going on?”

“Tom Baker is dead,” he said flatly. “I don’t have the details yet, but apparently it was some time on Thanksgiving. The PCPD has had me and Sonny under surveillance since Baker was paroled—”

“Wait a second—” Robin put up her hands. “What are you saying—”

“Elizabeth and Patrick arranged for Sonny and I have to alibis. She knew Jordan had pulled people from Baker—that they were still watching us—we just talked about it. And they were late—”

“I—” Robin shook her head. “It’s a coincidence, okay? How was he killed?”

“No signs of foul play,” Jason said. Instead of reassuring her, the news sent a shiver down her spine, and she closed her eyes. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

“Jason, are you telling me you think your wife murdered Tom Baker and that my husband helped? Do you hear yourself? Elizabeth is pregnant—”

“She was bleeding out from a stab wound to the gut in the middle of the woods on that damn island, and managed to get to my gun and blow out Stavros Cassadine’s brains,” Jason said, and she closed her mouth. “And your husband operated on her in the middle of a flat with a first aid kit. He’s done brain surgery by flashlight. I know who my wife is and what she’s capable of—”

“If she’s under threat,” Robin reminded him. “What’s the threat? Baker’s been out for months! Do you really think she’s been waiting all along—”

“No. But something happened—it had to.” Jason scrubbed a hand down his face. “You knew they were lying, Robin.”

“Yes, but—” Her voice faltered. “Jason. What exactly are we talking about here? I mean, if it’s true—” She folded her arms. “What are we supposed to do?”

“I’m going to make sure it goes away,” Jason told her, and she bit her lip, nodded. “So far you and I are the only ones that know anything was a little weird that day. I think we were the only ones who noticed they were late.”

“Right. And we couldn’t testify against them even if we wanted to.” Robin bit her lip. “Do we ask them about it?” Did she really want to know?

“They lied to us last week, so I don’t think they’re planning to bring us in—” Jason grimaced. “I need to know what happened so I can make sure they’re safe. You can—you can do whatever you need to. I just—we need to be on the same page. If anyone asks about Thanksgiving—”

“Nothing happened,” Robin said softly. “Except some teenage drama. It was a great day.”

“Good. Thank you—”

“No, thank you for—I don’t know. For whatever you’re going to do. I don’t need to know about it, but thank you.”

Morgan House: Driveway

Elizabeth locked her car, frowning at Jason’s SUV parked at the curb. He was usually at the warehouse for a few more hours—

Then she saw the door open across the street, and Jason step outside — say something to Robin before turning towards their house. Their eyes met, and her insides tightened. He knew something. Even from this distance—

And then a car turned around the curve and slid into the space behind Jason’s SUV. Jordan stepped out, followed by Nathan.

Baker had been found.

“Well, this is good timing,” Jordan called as she came up th front walk, a manila folder tucked under her arm. Jason was crossing the street. “I was hoping to talk to both of you.”

“What’s going on?” Elizabeth tightened her hand around the strap of her purse. “Nothing happened to the kids, did it—”

“No, no. Hello, Mr. Morgan,” Jordan said coolly. “Have a few minutes for some questions?”

“Do I need to call Diane?” Jason wanted to know, already bored with the conversation. He stepped up next to Elizabeth. To Jordan, he would appear to be stone-faced, but Elizabeth knew her husband—she could feel tension and tightness radiating—

“Well, why don’t you listen to my questions and you can make that decision?” Jordan offered. She opened the folder, and Elizabeth’s stomach twisted. “Tom Baker. Died sometime Thursday — preliminary autopsy says maybe the afternoon. No cause of death just yet, but I thought we’d find out where some interested parties were—”

“So you came right over to the house of the woman he raped as a teenager,” Elizabeth said. She folded her arms, took a deep a breath.

“He was never convicted of that crime,” Jordan retorted. “So can I get an alibi or—”

“Thanksgiving,” Jason said. “You can ask about twenty people,” he told her. “Give or take. Robin and Patrick invited us over. So my sons saw me all day. So did my mother-in-law. Robin’s uncle and dad. Her mother—”

Jordan’s mouth tightened. “You were with Mac and Robert Scorpio—and Laura Spencer and Anna Devane.”

“So was Sonny. He deep fried a turkey. There were a lot of kids there, too. You can ask them.  Elizabeth had work until about noon—but she saw me all afternoon.” Jason lifted his brows. “Any other questions?”

“Just one.” Jordan flipped to another photo — Baker’s wall. “Did you know he was talking your wife and teenage girls close to her?”

Jason stared at the photo, the muscles in his cheeks twitching as Elizabeth digested the horror of what Jordan was asking—

“Wait, wait—” Elizabeth reached for the photo, finding it no trouble to find the horror and disgust she’d lived with for days. Weeks. “This is me—that’s my girls—Jason—” Her voice broke. “He was watching all of them?”

Jordan hesitated. “I—”

“How could this happen? How could someone on parole take all these—” Elizabeth shoved the photo away. “How could no one have seen him do it?”

Jason put a hand at her waist, and she closed her mouth, still shaking. Because her fury was real. How could Jordan have not known?  “We’re done here. You have my alibi. Any thing else, call Diane.”

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