Hey just a note — I decided not to use Ric in this story. Not because he couldn’t play a role — he absolutely could. But it was just an extra layer I didn’t want to deal with.  Written in 66 minutes.

Thursday, September 11, 2024

Webber Home: Kitchen

Elizabeth leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, smiling faintly at the scene that would have seemed unbelievable only a few months earlier. Jason Morgan rinsing breakfast dishes and loading the dishwater. The water must have drowned out the sounds of her sock-clad steps down the steps and through the living room.

“You don’t have to do dishes, you know.”

Jason switched off the faucet, and turned to her, drying his hands on one of her dish towels. “Why not? I made some of them.” He leaned down, closed the dishwater, then turned it on. “I was hoping you’d sleep longer.”

“I’m surprised I slept at all.” She slid on to the stool and accepted the cup of coffee he handed her grateful. “I stared at the ceiling for a little while, but I slept better than I thought I would. Especially if I slept through  Jake and Aiden leaving for school.”

“They made some attempts to be quiet. I thought they’d argue about going to school at all,” Jason admitted, “but I guess they thought you might want some more…time.”

Elizabeth sighed, slowly twisting her mug one way, then the opposite. “I’m embarrassed I fell apart like that. I’m sorry you had to deal with that—” She paused when he just lifted his brows. “What?”

“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I knew you’d need time before you saw them, but I didn’t really think—” He hesitated. “I didn’t think about when you saw them. I should have.”

“You’re not psychic, Jason. And it’s not your job to manage my nervous breakdowns—it’s embarrassing that I lost it like that. The boys have must have been upset, and freaked out—”

“You’re allowed to fall apart,” he cut in, his tone gentle, and she shook her head.

“No, I’m supposed—not with them. You wouldn’t—” She paused, looked at him. “You don’t fall apart.”

He stepped closer, away from the back counter, towards her. “I usually punch someone. Or trash a room. Neither of which are good ideas or options while you were gone. The last thing any of us needed was me arrested at the Brown Dog for starting a bar fight.”

The implication that he’d wanted to hung between them for a beat, and then she cleared her throat. “No, probably not. One of us in jail at a time is probably for the best. Though my preference is neither of us. Which brings me to my next question. What’s next? Where do we start with clearing my name?”

“I told Diane I’d give her a call when and if you were ready to talk to day.”

“I am beyond ready to get this over with. I’m not enjoying my new accessory—” She held out her leg where the ankle monitor was strapped. “It’s really not the look for the fall season. Let’s call her and get started.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Anna tossed aside that morning’s edition of The Sun, with its bold headline declaring Elizabeth had been released on bail. She’d already skimmed the editorial from Curtis, attacking the local investigation.

What would they make of the voicemail she’d heard? And why hadn’t Jason told her John Cates was still harassing him? Anna would have made it go away — legally. And if Jason had been the one to lure Cates to the boathouse, who had pulled the trigger?

These questions had been percolating since Caldwell had left her office, and she was no closer to answer them now. Or in a position to even ask for more information.

She turned at the knock on her open door, relieved at the interruption — though it faded when she saw Molly entering, Chase on her heels. “Is there a meeting I forgot about?”

“No. But I wanted to get started as soon as possible this morning.” Molly held out the paper in her hand, and Anna reached for it, sliding her glasses on with the other hand. “AUSA Reynolds and SSA Caldwell have already been briefed on this.”

Anna skimmed it, then ripped her glasses off, got to her feet. “Are you insane? This is career suicide—”

Molly folded her arms. “You’re not my mother or my boss—”

“For me,” Anna bit out. “For me and my cops. We need the FBI and you’re torching the bridge—”

“We need an FBI that follows the evidence,” Molly cut in sharply. “Not the last name of the witnesses. This is the second case in a matter of weeks where the FBI saw the name Morgan or Corinthos and closed their eyes to everything else—”

“Don’t you think you’re a little too close to this—”

“Someone has to stand up for the people of this town. Robert’s already signed off, Anna. I don’t need your blessing or permission. It’s been done. The FBI is cut from all local resources, and we’ve opened our own investigation to run parallel—”

“They have jurisdiction—he was a bloody federal agent!”

“They have to prove it was in the line of duty, Anna. Official duty. And there’s not one piece of evidence in the file that supports that claim. They have witnesses that exonerate their suspect—”

“Damn it, Molly. You haven’t seen all of the evidence—”

“I saw what was in the probable cause statement. I know what they sent to the testing lab. I read Diane Miller’s motion to dismiss. Is there something damning I should know about?” Molly wanted to know. “Tell me, Anna. Is there something that proves Danny, Jake, and Michael are all lying about the timeline? That Monica was mistaken about what time Jason left her at the elevator? Something that explains why Jason or Elizabeth would allow Michael to call in the report when it confirmed time of death almost to the minute with them in the vicinity?”

Anna exhaled slowly. “You cannot simply destroy decades of cooperation between my department the federal government—”

“This is happening, Anna. You can get on board or be left behind.” Molly took a step towards her. “Someone is setting Elizabeth Webber up for a murder they committed. I’m not going to rest until I find out who they are.”

Anna pressed her lips together, looked at Chase who had remained quiet throughout the entire the confrontation. “And Detective Chase, what do you have to say?”

Chase met her gaze head on. “I’m not afraid to ruffle the FBI’s feathers when I know I’m right. The question you really don’t want any of us to ask is why are you?”

Anna inhaled sharply, looked at Molly, then back at Chase. “And what does that mean?”

“You don’t get to ask the questions, Commissioner. You had your chance. You can either agree to honor the memo set out, assign Chase and Dante temporarily to the DA’s office, or my office can open an investigation into the Pikeman case, and how a dangerous murderer was allowed to escape on your watch.”

Anna went cold, then slowly sat down. She picked up her glasses, leaned back in her chair. “All right then. Take Chase and Dante. And don’t complain to me when you find yourself in the same place as the federal government. They’re following the evidence, and you’re going to wish you’d stayed out of it.”

Hanley Federal Building: U.S Attorney’s Offices

Reynolds scribbled his name at the bottom of the clipboard, then handed it back to the clerk and began to skim the motion that had been just served—

The phone rang before he could reach for it himself, and he yanked it off the base. “Reynolds. I have to call you back—”

“My agents and I were just kicked out of the damn PCPD,” came Caldwell’s angry interruption.

“What? Why?” He stopped when the clerk returned to his door, holding up another envelope. “I’m busy—”

“This just came from Port Charles—all right,” the clerk muttered when Reynolds ripped it from his hand.

He jabbed the speaker phone button, then ripped open the envelope, muttering under his breath as he read the memo. “The goddamn DA’s office is contesting jurisdiction—”

“They can’t do that! Cates was an FBI agent—”

“Just shut up for a minute, damn it.” Reynolds grimaced, slammed his door shut, and took a deep breath. “They can contest it. We don’t know what the hell John Cates was doing there. And we can’t prove the damn deal Morgan’s talking about on the phone. All we have is Cates’ word that it even existed, and dead man can’t testify.” He took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. Just let me—this isn’t the end of the world. It doesn’t change the facts.”

“No, and when we get back on the Quartermaine property this weekend—”

“That’s—” Reynolds turned to the motion he’d been reading when Caldwell had called. “There’s been a development. Monica Quartermaine is revoking verbal consent and denying access for further searches. There’s an injunction.”

There was silence for a  beat. “They’ll lose—”

“Of course they will. Just like the DA will lose. But it slows everything down, doesn’t it? And if we don’t get that damn testing back before the motion to dismiss, the charges are thrown out and we lose surveillance. What the hell is going on up there? Why the hell are they taking the side of a piece of mob trash and his bitch girlfriend? An FBI is dead—”

“That mob trash is the son of the homeowner, Reynolds. And the bitch? Former daughter-in-law to the mayor.”

“That doesn’t change the fact—” Reynolds took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. Getting angry won’t change this.” He rubbed his forehead. “Set up shop somewhere. I’ll be up in the morning. I’ll talk to the DA. I’ll give him what we have. Maybe he just needs some political cover. I can do that. Just—just don’t do anything stupid until I have a chance to handle this.”

Webber Home: Living Room

“It is so good to see you, Fair Elizabeth,” Spinelli said, hugging her with the enthusiasm he’d had as a younger man, and it nearly brought tears to her eyes to hear her old nickname.

“You, too.” She hugged him back, squeezed his hand as he came all the way inside the house, Diane on his heels. “I’m so glad you’re agreed to help. There’s no one I trust more than you to get to the bottom of whatever this is.”

“You do me a great honor in bestowing your trust. You and Stone Cold, and the Jackal will endeavor not to let you down,” he said, with another smile. He headed for the sofa and coffee table, pulling off his messenger back.

Jason nearly grimaced at the reversion back to the Spinellisms, but Elizabeth was genuinely smiling and there was a little lightness in her step as she sat down next to him. If that was because of Spinelli, he wasn’t going to mess that up.

Diane squeezed his arm. “How is she?” she asked softly. “The boys?”

“We’re all good. Thank you. For leaving without questions last night,” Jason told her. “I think if she realized you were still here, she’d be more embarrassed.”

“Well, you know nothing makes me run faster than emotion.” Diane flashed him a smirk, then sat down on the arm chair, setting her brief case down. “You look well-rested, Elizabeth. A shower and a decent mattress makes all the difference.”

“I’ll never take either for granted again.” Elizabeth shifted slightly, so that she was facing Spinelli who had set  up his laptop and removed a notebook with pages already filled. Jason remained standing, across the coffee table from Diane, his arms folded. “What do we have so far? What do you need from me?”

“I’ve filed motions to compel discovery to get the ballistics and audio from the tip that led them to the search warrant,” Diane began. “I have the transcript, but Spinelli and I doubt very much that it’s someone who actually works with you. I showed it you on Sunday when we talked.”

“Right. Right. I—Oh—” Elizabeth blinked when Spinelli handed a copy to her. She skimmed it again, then nodding. “I mean, other than the stupidity of anyone believing Jason and I would discuss discarding murder weapons where anyone could hear us—I didn’t even see him on Wednesday, did I?” she looked at him, furrowing her brow. “I was working all day.”

“I brought dinner over for Jake and Aiden because you were working until almost midnight. A double shift to cover for someone who’d called out,” Jason added. He looked to Diane. “I don’t know how to prove that. They already don’t believe Jake. I doubt they’ll believe Aiden.”

“But you brought dinner, you said? Where did you go?” Diane asked.

“The diner. Bobbie’s. Carly would probably pull the security footage. They keep it sixty days, I think.”

Spinelli was already making notes. “What about at the hospital? What did you do that day?”

“Oh. I was in my office working on the schedule for part the morning, and some other paperwork. But I share that with Terry, and she came in and out all morning. And then I did my rounds. I went into a surgery around four because someone called out on the trauma team.” Elizabeth exhaled on a long breath. “And I was there the rest of the night.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to Terry and Portia about getting some corroborating evidence for her movements that day,” Spinelli told Diane, continuing to make notes. “It won’t be the smoking gun, but anything we can do to make the tip a lie before we get the audio testing back is a bonus.”

“What do you think the audio is  going to say?” Elizabeth asked.

“Oh, you would not believe the trouble we’ve been having with all these AI generators around now. You can generate anything,” Diane said, “and make it sound like someone’s voice. Someone who actually exists. We’re expecting it to come back as artificial. Combine that with the fact every word of the tip is a lie — and a jury is going to believe the setup much more easily.”

“A jury.” Elizabeth folded her arms, suddenly cold. “You think this might go to trial?”

“I hope not. But I’m going to look under every rock,” Diane assured her. “Spinelli—”

“I have a list of witnesses I’m going to re-interview. I hope it’s okay if I talk to Jake and Aiden separately and alone,” Spinelli said.

“Of course. I trust you.”

“Here’s a copy of the witness list I have—one for each of you—” Spinelli handed a copy to Elizabeth, then to Jason. “Is there anyone I should add?”

“Kristina?” Jason frowned, looked at Spinelli. “Why is she on this?”

“Well, I probably don’t have to talk to her again, since Diane did, but she was here last Tuesday.”

“Before we went out,” Elizabeth said. “God, that feels like a million years ago. She didn’t see anything?” she asked Diane. “I was hoping—even though it was a longshot.”

“No, she said it was a quick, unpleasant visit—”

“Why?” Jason demanded, and Elizabeth made a face.

“She was hoping to make some peace with Sam and me, and you, I guess. But it just didn’t go well—does Alexis know she’s calling the baby Adela?” Elizabeth asked, turning back to Diane who winced.

“Unfortunately, yes. It’s not great on all accounts.”

“Speaking of Kristina, did you remember your password to the Ring account?” Spinelli asked.

“Oh. Oh, no.” Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I have to look for it, but I know it was saved on my computer—which the FBI have. And on the app—on the phone the FBI has,” she added.

“Okay, I’ll work on getting that information another way.” Spinelli went down his list. “We’re waiting for a lot of information from the seizure of the car, especially from the techstream. That’ll tell us every time the trunk was open—”

“Seriously? My car can tell you that?”

“Big Brother is everywhere—”

Diane drew out her phone, as it vibrated in her pocket. “I’ll be right back, I just need to take this.”

“Sure—” Elizabeth focused on Spinelli .”You have so much to—” She blew out a surprised breath. “I didn’t even imagine there’d be this much to go through. What can I do? How can I help?”

“Be available for questions. That’s really it. Trust the process.” Spinelli squeezed her hand. “The Jackal won’t rest until he frees the Fair Elizabeth from the vultures who have attacked.”

“Speaking of vultures—” Diane returned to the sofa, and they all looked at her. “The most useful of the Davis girls might have just given us a huge boost. She’s opened a state investigation and kicked the FBI to the curb. They can’t use any state testing — and she’ll have first access to all evidence and testing since the feds already submitted it. She said she’ll have an open files policy with us. And—” Diane looked at Jason. “The Quartermaines have denied the FBI further access to the property. When you combine that with the editorial Curtis ran this morning, the press statement Laura put out—”

“Press statement?” Elizabeth echoed.

“This is honestly the best news we’ve had outside of getting you out on the bail.” Diane held her phone against her chest. “Thank God for Molly.”

+40

Written in 68 minutes.

Wednesday, September 10, 2024

Jamesville Correctional Facility: Parking Lot

Elizabeth laid her head back against the headrest, let out a long breath of relief — they’d made it out of the building, to the SUV, and Jason was now climbing into the driver’s side, starting the ignition.

They weren’t going to stop her. She could really go home.

“It’s an hour and a half back to Port Charles.”

Elizabeth opened her eyes, turned just her head so that she could see Jason, illuminated from the back by the tall lights dotting the parking lots, leaving his features in dim shadows. “Is it?”

“Do—I don’t know if you ate. They were going to have food back home, but it’s—I wasn’t thinking about how far it was. We could stop.”

Elizabeth looked ahead, the hulking gray building still visible. “I should eat,” she murmured. She couldn’t remember the last meal she’d eaten — only picking at various piles of mush over the last five days — had it really been breakfast on Friday morning? “I guess…I guess we could stop.” She forced herself to clear her throat, looked back at him. “The—the picture.” She fumbled in the pocket of her jeans where she’d stowed it, her fingers trembling. “Thank—thank you.”

“I wish you’d had it sooner,” he muttered, then dragged a hand down his face. “I don’t have connections the way I did—it took that long just find someone willing to do it—”

“I was having…” She swallowed, forcing herself to speak, though her voice sounded rusty. Had she really spoke since her last meeting with Diane? “All the days…were b-bad. But y-yesterday. I n-needed it. I couldn’t remember if I’d…if I’d told them I loved them.”

“They know that—”

“But I t-try to tell them every day because you—you don’t know—” Her words wobbled, and she tried to swallow the sob that bubbled up. “I w-was just so scared I might not see them again—” She pressed both hands to her face, trying to control her breathing, trying to hold off the trembling, the shaking, the tears—she could hear Jason swear under his breath, and then heard him moving—She looked over, through the blurry tears, she realized he was reaching for the door, and she reached over, grabbing at his arm. “No, no, don’t—I j-just—can we go? Please. Can we get out of here?”

“I just—” Jason sat back, and grimaced, then he hit the steering wheel so hard she flinched, and he swore again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He gripped the wheel with both hands, the knuckles almost white. “I’m sorry. Let’s go. Let’s get you away from here.”

Penthouse: Danny’s Bedroom

Danny lay sprawled out across his bed, holding the phone close to his face, scrolling through his social feeds, moving from app to app and then back again. When he heard the knock on his open door, he didn’t even look over. “What?”

“I just got home. Dante said you ate dinner and came up here. What’s up?”

Danny slid a glance out of the corner of his eye, saw his mother leaning against the door. “Why does something have to be up?”

“I thought…well, I guess I thought you’d be at your brother’s. Dante said you didn’t go over, even when he offered to drive you. You got the news, right? Elizabeth made bail.”

“What do you care?” He tossed his phone aside, sat up. “Don’t start acting like you give a damn what happens to her or Jake.”

Sam paused, clearly took a minute to gather herself. “We need to have a conversation about the way you’ve been speaking to me—”

“I’m just doing what my mother taught me. Right? You’re the one that was talking mad shit about Elizabeth literally a week ago. And my brother. What was it—oh, yeah, about her accepting crumbs and having low standards?”

“I—I should not have said that.” Sam stepped forward. “That was wrong—And I know that. I knew that then. I was just very angry, and I wasn’t thinking. I’m trying to make up for that, Danny. Didn’t I say you could see your dad whenever you wanted—”

“He’s a little busy right now,” Danny bit out. “Since the FBI thinks Elizabeth killed that guy and Dad’s covering for her. Or did you forget?”

“I didn’t. Danny, I know it was hard for you with the FBI—”

Danny shoved himself off the bed. “You know, Jake never had to talk to them, right? Dad said no, and that was the end of it. But you made me talk to them, and now they think they can bother me all the time—”

“They talked to you again? Without me?” Sam demanded.

“What were you going to do? Stand there?” Danny sneered. “Why do you want me to talk to him, huh? You gonna find a way to put a wire on me? Record our conversations and get Dad in more trouble?”

“Danny, I would never do that—that’s not fair—” Sam backed up a few steps, back into the hall when Danny came towards her.

“What’s not fair is you acting like a raging lunatic for weeks, grounding me for the rest of my life, making me to talk to the FBI who are stalking me—”

“Watch the attitude—” Sam cut in sharply.

“Go to therapy.” And then slammed the door in her face.

Webber House: Front Entrance

Elizabeth approached the front door, light pouring through the windows. Then she stopped, folding her arms around her upper torso. Jason came up behind her, touched her shoulders— she flinched at first, then relaxed. “I was torn at first when I realized you hadn’t kept the boys with you. I wanted to see them so much, but I’m glad—” she blew out a breath, then turned to face him. “I’m glad I had a chance to lose it when they weren’t in the room. I don’t even know what this has been like for you, for them, but I’m sure they were scared—”

“None of that matters right now,” he said.

“It—”

“We can talk about it tomorrow when you’ve had time to rest, to take a real shower, eat real food.”

For the first time in nearly a week, the corners of her mouth twisted with genuine amusement. “I thought I was the bossy one.”

She was rewarded with his own slight smile. “I’ve been taking lessons from the master. Come on.” He reached past her, and pushed open the door.

Elizabeth turned back, started to walk inside — but she didn’t get any more than a few steps over the threshold when Aiden barreled into her, throwing his arms around her shoulders, wrapping her up in a tight hug with every ounce of energy he could muster. He’d always hugged like that, she thought, holding him. Since he was a toddler — he’d embraced the people he loved with everything he had.

But Jake — Jake, who was always so much more hesitant with his physical affection — Jake surprised her by coming around to the side, and hugging her from the back so that she was sandwiched between both her boys.

“Can you let your mother in before you suffocate her?” Laura said, with a teasing laugh, rubbing Aiden’s shoulder. “Come on. Let her come in, sit down.”

“Sorry, sorry—” Aiden stepped back, sniffled a little, then cleared his throat, rolled his shoulders. “I was gonna be cool about it—”

“You’ve never been cool a day in your life,” Jake said, reluctantly releasing his mother, sweeping his eyes over her, his expression registering concern.

“Neither have you—” Aiden shot back out of habit, and Jake elbowed him. Oh, it had been so long since she’d watched the two of them banter like this—the tears welled up in her eyes against her will, and it was a challenge to keep them at bay when Laura hugged her — more gently than either boy.

“I’m not staying, honey. You’ve had a hell of a time, and you need rest and recharging.” Laura drew back, tucked a piece of Elizabeth’s hair behind her ear. “But I just couldn’t go one more day without seeing your face.”

“S-Same.” Elizabeth closed her eyes when Laura kissed her forehead. “I—I’ll call you.”

“When you’re ready. I love you, sweetheart.” She stepped away, and Diane was there now—

“I’m also not going to stay. Give me a call tomorrow when you’re ready to talk about’s next. Or—” Diane lifted her brows. “Don’t. Jason’s got your bail release covered, and he and I can handle the next few days if you just want to take your time.”

“I d-don’t—” Her hand fluttered up around her mouth.

“Mom, we got you ribs from Eli’s,” Aiden said, drawing her attention to him. “And I made you the brownies you like. With extra chocolate.”

“Cam’s on FaceTime,” Jake said, holding up a phone for her to see, and she could just make out the face of her oldest son.

“Let me know,” Diane said—and Elizabeth snapped back to her, blinking. “You’ve been through hell. Take a deep breath. Everything can wait.” She walked past Elizabeth, probably to talk to Jason.

And then Jake was shoving the phone in her face, and oh, oh, there was her baby. Her oldest. Her firstborn, the love of her life—

“Mom. Hey.” His voice was small, but clear and he was grinning at her. “Oh, man, it is so good to see you!”

“It’s g-good—” Her throat felt so tight, but she forced the words past her lips. “It’s good t-to see you. I love you. I l-love—I c-couldn’t—” She gulped in a deep breath, the inhale a shuddering sob—and then Cameron’s face dissolved in a haze of tears, and she started to cry. Deep, wracking, hysterical sobs.

Jason heard the first shaky breath, and looked up from Diane, startled when Elizabeth just fell apart, the shaking of her shoulders—He came forward, slow at first—and then with almost a leap when her knees startled to buckle.

He caught her from behind, holding her as they hit the floor, Elizabeth still clutching the phone, still hysterically sobbing like she was breaking into two, harsh, angry gulps of air, punctuated with apologies, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

Aiden seemed frozen to the ground, his eyes wide and panicked. Jake was slow to react, almost as if he were swimming through the air, but when his dad wrenched the phone from his mother, held it out, Jake scooped it up.

Diane had already made her own exit, closing the door behind her. Jake grabbed Aiden’s arm and dragged him towards the stairs, all the way, Cameron’s distant voice demanding to know what was going on, and how he was getting on the next plan—

“I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry—” Elizabeth couldn’t stop saying it. Jason took a deep breath, angled them so that his back was leaning against the sofa, his legs splayed out, and she was tucked in his arms, holding on. “I’m sorry. I just—I h-heard h-his v-voice—”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Jason kept repeating it, hold on for dear life, for the storm to pass. Had he really thought what happened in the car would be enough? He felt like an idiot now, not managing this return better. Too much at once, too many people—

—

At the top of the stairs, Jake and Aiden sat, side by side, listening to their mother’s sobs, a little quieter now, but no less haunting.

“Damn it—will—”

Jake aimed the phone at he and Aiden. “Mom lost it, okay? She’s—Dad’s got her. We—” He looked at Aiden, then back at Cameron. “We thought it would be easier for her if we were upstairs.”

“She didn’t even lose it that way when Franco died,” Aiden said, and Cameron sighed.

“Not that any of us saw, but maybe she always hides it.”

“And she can’t this time,” Jake finished grimly.

“I’m coming home—I’m booking—”

“No. Dude, don’t make it worse for her. Don’t do that. You know how she feels about you and school—”

“I don’t care—”

“Well, that’s selfish,” Aiden said, stunning both of his older brothers. Cameron scowled at him, and Aiden swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, but it is. Okay? Mom’s having enough problems. You’re literally coming on on Friday, Cam. You come home now, you’ll miss classes, and she’ll feel worse. Right?”

“Right. Right. Damn it.” Cameron shook his head. “I hate this.”

“Me, too—” Jake stopped. “Shh,” he breathed. “She stopped crying.”

—

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said, dully, her head laying on Jason’s shoulder, her eyes staring at the white shirt. “I—I thought I’d gotten over it.”

“It’s okay.” She felt his chest rise and fall with the words, a comforting rumble. She closed her eyes, hoping the warmth radiating from his body would engulf hers.

“It’s n-not. The b-boys-they’ve—”

“They can handle it. You don’t have to be perfect for them.”

“I’m far from perfect,” she muttered, and she felt his chest rumble again. “I just wanted to get the days, to believe Diane, but, oh, God, until I saw Cameron’s face, and I heard his voice. I didn’t realize—I didn’t realize how scared I was I’d never see him again outside of the jail. I didn’t—did I tell him I loved him when I put him on the plane back to school? Did I tell Jake or Aiden? I don’t think I did. I think I just nagged at them about their sneakers and homework and—”

“They know, I promise you. They know.”

“But I need to tell them—” She struggled to sit up, and he reluctantly moved, then rose and helped her stand, holding on to her hands.

“You will.” Jason lifted her chin so that she looked at him. “But you need to sleep. You’re safe here. No one’s going to come and take you away again. Getting you out was the first step. Now I’m going to find out who did this to you.”

Her smile was a bit wobbly, and then she leaned her forehead against his chest again. “I hate this.  I hate falling apart. I hate being weak.”

“We’ll argue about that later. Come on. You need water, and something to eat.” He guided her to the kitchen.

—

His parents’ voices had faced, so Jake looked back at Cameron, who had remained silent for all of that. “Okay, they’re gone. Here’s the plan. You — stay at Stanford until Friday. Be the perfect pre-med. You and me—” he looked at Aiden. “Perfect sons. And when we find out who tried to set Mom up for murder, we make their lives hell.

“If there’s anything left when Jason gets done,” Cameron said wryly. “Okay. Message received. I’ll see you guys on Friday.”

“See you.”

Jake ended the call, took a deep breath. “Let’s get out of the way, so Mom doesn’t think we’ve been listening to her lose it.” He got to his feet, hauling Aiden up, hoping they weren’t making as much noise as he feared. “Remember—”

“Perfect son. Got it. Piece of cake.”

+37

Written in 62 minutes.

Wednesday, September 10, 2024

 James M. Hanley Federal Building: Courtroom

After the judge had completed the hearing and vacated the bench, Diane flashed a smile at Reynolds. “It’s not too late to drop the charges. I’m sure my client will accept your apologies—”

Reynolds lifted his briefcase, returned her smirk with one of his own. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Miller. We’ve got four casings at the site. As soon as the weather conditions allow it, we’ll be back to searching the crime scene. We’ll find that fourth bullet, match it to the gun, and that’ll be all she wrote for your client.”

He sauntered out of the courtroom, and Diane turned to the contingent from Port Charles with a roll of her eyes. “Still can’t put it in her hand,” she muttered.

“Okay, so when can Mom come home? Do we go to the jail now?” Aiden wanted to know, leaning over his brother.

“I have to sign paperwork for her release,” Jason told them. He met Laura’s eyes, and she started forward. “I need you to go back to Port Charles with your grandmother—”

“But we can wait. I don’t care how long,” Aiden insisted.

“We’re talking hours, honey. Not one, not two, but maybe six or seven,” Laura said. “It’s okay. We’ll be waiting for her—”

“I can wait six hours,” Jake interrupted. “I want to—”

“Come over here for a second,” Jason said to his son, and Jake reluctantly followed him a few feet away. As they passed by on their way out, Carly gave Jason’s arm a squeeze, and a gesture to call her. He nodded, then focused on Jake.

“Dad, I don’t mind waiting—”

“I know. But it’s not just the time I’m thinking about.” Jason paused. “Everything has been awful since they arrested her. And I know you and Aiden have been through hell. Especially you with the FBI—”

“It’s fine—”

“But whatever we dealt with, we had each other. Your mom hasn’t had anyone,” Jason continued over Jake’s interruption, and the teen fell silent. “She’s been isolated and alone for days, with only visits from Diane. She’s going to need a minute, and I don’t know if she’ll let herself fall apart in front of you or your brother.”

Jake looked away, let out a huff, then tipped his head. “Yeah. Okay. I get that. Mom might try to put on an act or something. She does that. Okay. Okay.” He turned to Aiden. “New plan. We go home, we make sure the house is clean, you bake Mom’s favorite dessert and we get ribs from Eli’s.”

Aiden opened his mouth to protest, but Laura stepped in. “That’s a great idea. We’ll stop by the grocery store for anything you need. Jason, give me a call if anything changes.”

“I will.” Jason squeezed Jake’s shoulder. “The next time I see you guys, your mom will be with me.”

And then it would be time for everything that came next.

Franklin Street: Federal Parking Lot

“Wait—” Michael put up his hand before his mother opened the door to their car, and both Carly and Joss stopped to look at him. “I want to get this call in before we leave. Now that we’re not in danger of being overheard—”

“Call?” Carly echoed, but Michael already had the phone to his ear.

“Molly?”

“Hey. How did it go?”

“We’re all set. Jason’s on his way to do the paperwork and get her released. Won’t be for hours, but bail’s been granted.”

“Oh, fantastic. I’m so relieved. You ready for the next step?”

“It’ll be my next call,” Michael said. “Text me when you finish your meeting.” He ended the call, and started another.

“I hate not knowing stuff,” Joss grumbled.

Brook Lynn answered before the first ring finished. “How’d we do?”

“Bail granted. Did the lawyer finish the paperwork? Are we ready to file?”

“Last I checked. You want me to give him the green light?”

“Yeah, time to get this going.”

“On it.” Brook Lynn disconnected, and Michael turned to his mother and sister.

“If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to ruin your life,” Joss said, planting a fist against her hip, cocking it out to the side. “Start talking.”

“I’ll tell you everything once it’s in motion,” Michael said, opening the driver’s side door. “But Mom, you know better than anyone — a scheme only works if no one knows about it until it’s too late.”

Carly wrinkled her nose. “Brook Lynn and Molly get to know, but we don’t?”

“I learned a lot from you, Mom.” Michael slid into the car, started the engine. “Including everything not to do. You’ll find out soon enough.”

“You’re very annoying,” Joss grumbled, then got into the backseat. “But this better work.”

Davis House: Living Room

Alexis scratched out a case citation in her legal brief, then snatched up the phone the second it began to ring, Diane’s face flashing across the screen. “Did you win?”

“Yes,” Diane said, practically singing the response. “Jason is en route to complete the paperwork for release. And the judge was not impressed by the government’s case. I am ready to start slaying dragons.”

“Come by the house when you get back, and you can tell me everything.” Alexis hung up, and went into the kitchen where Kristina was unloading the dishwasher. “Finally, some good news. Elizabeth made bail.”

Kristina straightened, blinking. “What? Oh. That’s great. I’m so glad.”

“It’s such a relief, honestly. And it’s good news for us. Our motion to dismiss is front of the same judge with the same AUSA prosecuting. We’ll benefit from that — he wasn’t impressed with the case. It’s a terrible case,” Alexis added.

Kristina made a face. “What do you mean? I thought they found the gun in her car. That’s—that seems pretty solid. I mean, obviously someone’s setting her up,” she added when Alexis frowned. “But I thought that’s why everyone was so worried—because the case was good.”

“Bail for the murder of a federal agent is almost impossible,” Alexis explained. “But the case is really thin. They can’t match the gun to the bullets from the crime scene right now. The best they can do is ‘consistent with’. And Elizabeth has an alibi witness who also happens to be the 911 reporter and owner of the property, and her motive isn’t that strong. I’m not saying a jury wouldn’t convict on that, but Diane’s got a good chance at dismissal.”

“Oh.” Kristina hesitated. “That’s good. Is that the next step?”

“I think so. And getting Spinelli in to investigate the crime itself. Find some evidence that points at someone else.” Alexis’s phone beeped, and she looked down, tapped a few times. “Sam’s hoping to jump on, which I think will be good for her, and for Danny.”

“Sam and Spinelli are great. They’ll figure this out. Elizabeth couldn’t be in better hands,” she told her mother, who nodded then returned to the living room with her own work.

She’d already been happy to hear Spinelli was going to be investigating — but Sam would be even less likely to look at Kristina. The feds would spend all their time trying to pin this on Elizabeth, to get to Jason — just as she’d planned. And it was unlikely any security footage had picked her up—

As long as no one ever traced the gun back to her father, everything was going perfectly. Like it was meant to be.

Port Charles Municipal Building: District Attorney’s Suite

“Thank you for meeting with me,” Molly said, closing the door behind her, and striding towards the desk of Robert Scorpio, the district attorney.

“Well, I didn’t have much of a choice,” Robert said, getting to his feet. His words might have seemed harsh, but he had a glint in his eye. “I spent the weekend fielding calls from an angry daughter and granddaughter, insisting I do something to help Elizabeth. When you said you wanted to speak about the case, I was relieved. I hope you have some ideas I can reassure them with.”

“Well, I suppose that depends on your reaction to my idea.” Molly held out her memo, and Robert took it with one hand, sliding his reading glasses on with the other. He skimmed it, then looked at her.

“This…this is a serious step, Molly. If we do this, we’re setting a fire to a bridge we might very well need again in the future—”

“An innocent woman is prosecuted for a murder that she could not have committed. I’ve read the witness statements. They’re consistent in all the right ways to suggest they’re accurate. Furthermore—”

“Molly, you don’t have to sell me on this. The only reason I gave consent to jurisdiction is I’d hoped it would clear things up quickly. If I’d realized the FBI intended to harass those boys in their school—” Robert grimaced, then looked down at the memo. “Still—”

“I know it’s big. And I know it’s a risk. For the future of other cases where we need cooperation, for publicity, but I want to do good things in the world. I need to do right by the people who live in this town. Someone murdered that man while my nephew was within earshot. It wasn’t Elizabeth.”

“No, it certainly wasn’t.” Robert took a breath, then nodded, returned the memo. “This is the right thing to do. And if you’re prepared for what happens next, I’ll stand behind you. So will this office. And if you need the commissioner to agree, you let me know.” He arched a brow. “I can still work a little magic on my ex.”

Molly smiled. “I appreciate that. But I think I can handle Commissioner Devane. Thank you, Robert. You won’t regret this.”

“No, but you might. You’re about to go to war with the FBI, Molly. Revoking cooperation, restricting access to the evidence, opening your own investigation, cutting them off from the state labs, depriving them of office space and local PCPD resources—” Robert tipped his head, and grinned. “It’s precisely the kind of bold move I’d have done at your age. Good luck.”

Jamesville Correctional Facility: Lobby

The paperwork alone had taken hours — waiting for someone to come into the conference room, walking through every single piece of paper, repeating himself over and over and over again that he understood the risks, that he was prepared to guarantee the bail conditions—

Jason finally signed the final piece of paperwork and slid it across the desk. “That’s it, right? I can take her home now?”

“Ankle monitor still being attached. And she has to report to Pretrial Services within 48 hours of her release.” The clerk popped her bubble gum, almost seeming bored. “She’ll be out when she’s done.”

Jason grimaced, turned, catching the glimpse of the sun setting through one of the small windows. He’d wait as long it as it took—

But he just wanted to see her. The screen hadn’t been enough—she’d been on display for everyone, her features a mask with only hints of what might be going on underneath.

With his stack of paperwork in hand, he reluctantly went to sit on one of the plastic, uncomfortable chairs.

He didn’t know how long it was — only that he’d had enough time to grow restless, getting to his feet, pacing the small space, and then sit again—then repeat the process. She shouldn’t be here. She should never be locked behind doors and bars.

Had she felt this way when he’d been locked in Pentonville all those years ago? When she’d stolen Lucky’s badge to gain access in those days after Jake’s birth—he’d been so frustrated with her for taking reckless risks, and so pathetically grateful that she still deemed him worthy of the risk at all.

Finally, the door buzzed, and then it opened, a guard holding it for Elizabeth as she shuffled  towards him, dressed in jeans and a pink tank top, layed over with a thin cream-colored sweater — both top layers rumpled and creased — the clothing she’d likely been wearing the day they’d arrested her.

Her hair was tied back, pieces falling around her cheeks — but not in the styled way she might have done on her own, but clearly from a lack of styling tools. She was pale, and almost seemed to swim in her clothing—her lips cracked, dry, and peeling.

He’d never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. Just the sight of her, her physical presence—the relief that flooded him was almost dizzying.

She stopped when she saw him, swallowing hard, then continuing to walk forward with the awkward shuffle—and he realized, painfully, that she’d grown accustomed to being shackled in just six days, and couldn’t quite move as naturally, fluidly, as she always did, always so light on her feet that she might have floated, flying from task to task, managing them all without breaking a sweat.

Jason came forward a few steps so that she wouldn’t have to walk all the way, and she just kept coming—straight into his arms, wrapping her arms around his waist, her hands fisting against his shoulder blades, her cheek pressed against the white button-down shirt she’d worn to the hearing that morning. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and held her, breathing her in, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I want to go home,” she said, her voice muffled. “Take me home. Before they change their minds.”

He kissed the top of her head, stepped back, his hand sliding down her arm until he could lace the fingers together. “Let’s get the hell out of here. The boys are waiting for you.”

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