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.”

+45

Please note: I always write every piece of word once the timer starts. In this specific case, because I did a toooonnnn of legal research for federal cases, I did prewrite some legal arguments based on that research because if I’d messed anything up in my haste to do everything I wanted today, I’d be sooo mad at myself.

Thank you for your understanding 😛

Written in 55 minutes.

Wednesday, September 10, 2024

Miller & Davis: Office

Alexis stopped in the doorway of the office, her brows lifted. “Shouldn’t you already be on the road to Syracuse?”

“I’m leaving in five minutes,” Diane muttered, marking notes with her red pen. “I left my brief here last night. I knew I should have just slept on the sofa—” She scowled when Alexis plucked the pen from her grasp. “Excuse me—”

“You have this figured out backwards and forwards.” Alexis slid the cap on the pen. “You know this argument. You were probably talking in your sleep last night with it.”

“I just—” Diane exhaled slowly, sat back in the chair. “It’s the first time I know, without a shadow of doubt, that I’m responsible for an innocent life. With Jason, you know—” She shook her head. “It was always about finding the right argument, but if you lost — well—” She got to her feet. “Jake came home from school on Monday, and he just—” She made a gesture with her hand. “Fell apart. Begged his father to tell the police something so his mother could come home. Anything. He’s seventeen-years-old, Alexis. Have you ever seen a boy cry at his age?”

“Diane—”

“Elizabeth is innocent. And so is Jason. Neither one of them know anything about this case. And if I can’t make this happen, Alexis, if I’m wrong, and that woman stays in jail one more day—”

“She won’t.” Alexis picked up Diane’s notes, slid them in a folder, then put them in Diane’s bag. “You won’t fail. Stop being mean to my best friend.”

Diane’s smile was slight. “I better get going. And in a few weeks, when you’re the one in here crumbling over a federal case, I’ll be the one giving a pep talk.”

“I look forward to it.”

James M. Hanley Federal Building: Courtroom

They’d run into Laura and Kevin in the parking garage, then found Joss, Michael, and Carly waiting outside the court room. Michael hugged Jason, while Joss caught up with the boys, checking in on Cameron’s plans for that weekend.

“I still think it’s ridiculous that they’re not bringing Elizabeth to the court house,” Carly grumbled as they entered the court room and filed into the two rows behind Diane’s table. The lawyer was already set up with her laptop screen flipped up and a web conference meeting already logged into.

Diane smiled thinly at them, then gestured that the screen by the jury box. “Elizabeth will be visible there so that the judge can see her, but she’ll only be able to see the kind of screens I have—” she indicated her laptop screen. “Four boxes. She won’t be able to see much but if you sit right behind the screen—”

“At least we’ll be able to see her,” Aiden said. “I just wish she had a better view of us. I wish she were here.”

“She’ll be home tonight,” Jake said, and his brother just looked at him. “You don’t believe me?”

“I want to. I just—I thought we’d get to see her on Saturday, and then no. I wanted to call her on Sunday, but no again.” Aiden’s expression was grim. “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“I know, but — ” Jake looked at his father, coming over to them from a conversation with Laura and Carly. “Dad, you’ll still tell me if you get the signal you were talking about, right? Where you think you’ve won?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Jason focused on Aiden, must have seen something in his expression. “I’m as sure as I can be in this kind of situation that we’re going to win today,” he said. “I’ve done everything I can to make it happen. Legally,” he added. “But at the end of the day—”

“It’s not up to you,” Aiden finished, and Jason reluctantly nodded. “Okay. Okay. Well, you’ve  been in jail before, so I guess you’d know what the chances are.” He hesitated. “I mean—”

“It’s okay—” Jason held up a hand, indicating that he wasn’t offended. “I do have some experience. Not just with the legal system. But with the guys who run these investigations. They always have an angle.” He stepped closer, keeping his voice down. “They  think your mom and I are lying. Whether I’m covering for her, or the other way around. They don’t have enough to convict her. They are going to want her out so they can catch us doing something to help them.”

“But since you’re both innocent—” Jake started.

“They’re going to get nothing,” Jason finished. “They probably know more about what happened that day than either one of us. So trust me, I think we have a better chance than most people in your mother’s position.”

Jamesville Correctional Facility

“And I just—” Elizabeth gestured at the small laptop screen. “I just sit here?”

“You’re not required to speak, no.” The facility’s legal coordinator nodded to the guard, who locked her shackles to the table. “Just listen to the arguments and stay quiet. When it’s over, you go back to your cell.”

“Even—” she bit her lip. “Even if I win—”

“You go back there until the order is transmitted. It’s starting, so—”

Elizabeth focused on the screen, and the little screens began to populate — the judge’s table, empty for now a man she didn’t know with the label “Reynolds” then Diane—and, oh—

She leaned in, and could just barely make out Jake and Aiden sitting behind her lawyer. Aiden gave her a tiny wave, and she exhaled in a rush of relief. Her boys. She could see them. Even if they were tiny dots on the screen.

Please. Please let this be over today.

James M. Hanley Federal Building: Courtroom

“All rise, for the Honorable James M. McAvoy—”

Jake tensed, jolting to his feet, watching as an older man entered, clad in the black robes he’d never seen in real life.

He sat down behind the judge’s desk, slid on a pair of reading glasses. When he’d settled, the bailiff gave them the instruction to sit, and then called his mother’s case.

The judge opened a file. “I have reviewed the Pretrial Services report in this matter. The defendant, Ms. Webber, is a resident of Port Charles, and has been since she was fifteen years old. She owns her own home, enjoys full-time employment as the head nurse at General Hospital. She has three children, two of whom are minors residing with her retaining primary residential custody of both. She has no prior criminal convictions and no history of violence.”

Some of Jake’s tension eased as this recitation of his mother’s background. All of that sounded good.

The judge continued, “Pretrial services notes the statutory presumption of detention for the offense charged, but indicates should the Court consider release, it could be under home confinement with surveillance, GPS monitoring, and a third-party custodian.” He lifted his head now.

“The defense has proposed Mr. Jason Morgan for this custodial duty.”

Jake looked at his father, confused by that. What did it mean?

“He has a 2010 Class D felony conviction for racketeering that was later overturned, with no subsequent criminal convictions, though, uh, more than a few arrests. While Pretrial services has indicated some concern regarding his suitability, the government has indicated it does not object to his appointment in light of the restrictive conditions proposed.”

Jason slid Jake a glance, nodded slightly, and Jake elbowed his brother. That was it. The sign his dad had wanted. The government wasn’t going to object to his dad being named the custodian or something. Whatever that was. He didn’t care if meant his mom was coming home.

“With that,” the judge said, setting the file aside, “I will hear argument from the government on the question of detention or release.”

The man behind the other table got to his feet, buttoned his suit jacket.

“Thank you, Your Honor. Noah Reynolds, Assistant United States Attorney. The defendant is charged with the deliberate killing of Special Agent John Cates, an FBI agent acting in the course of his official duties. Under federal law, this charge alone triggers a statutory presumption of detention.”

Jake bumped his dad, but Jason gave him a quick shake.

“The evidence against Ms. Webber includes forensic ballistics tying the recovered weapon to the fatal round, eyewitness accounts placing her at the scene, and motive evidence based on Agent Cates’ role in keeping the father of her middle son, Jacob, from them for over two years.”

“Idiots,” Jake muttered under his breath.

“This is a crime of violence punishable by life imprisonment or death—”

Aiden made a little sound that might have been a whimper and Jake reached for his hand, looking at him quickly. His little brother was pale. “It’s okay,” he breathed.

“That fact alone gives her every incentive to flee. The government also maintains she poses a danger to the community and to the integrity of the judicial process. Release, even under the strictest conditions, cannot mitigate that danger. The defendant has every reason to obstruct justice, whether by coordinating with accomplices or intimidating witnesses — many of whom are members of law enforcement. Given the nature of the charge, the presumption of detention applies, and Ms. Webber has not met the heavy burden required to overcome it. The government requests she be held without bail pending trial.”

Reynolds took his seat, and the judge simply shifted his focus to Diane. “And the defense?”

“Diane Miller, Your Honor. My client is, as you noted in your opening, a longterm resident with deep ties to her community. Her sons are her entire world, and they have deep ties to their community. She is a beloved nurse with shining evaluations and no criminal history.

“Furthermore, the government’s case rests on circumstantial evidence, and the assumption that because she was present on the scene, she must be guilty. I’d like to remind the court and my honorable colleague across the aisle—” Diane flicked her gaze to Reynolds. “That the only reason they can put my client at the scene is because she told them. They have no direct evidence that Ms. Webber knew about the gun recovered in her trunk, let alone fired it at a federal agent with intent to kill. The so-called ‘forensics match’ is preliminary and unconfirmed. In fact, several pieces of exculpatory evidence — including eyewitnesses who contradict the government timeline — have yet to be processed.”

Diane took a deep breath, spread her hands out at her side. “Your Honor, this case is not what it appears on paper. It is a pretext prosecution being rushed forward without full forensic analysis of the gun, of the so-called tip that led them to the recovery of the gun, and my client is the collateral damage of an investigation targeting others.” She paused for effect, letting her words linger.

“We propose the strictest conditions imaginable: home confinement at her longtime residence under the supervision of a third-party custodian approved by Pretrial Services, GPS ankle monitoring, daily check-ins, surrender of all passports, a prohibition on possessing firearms, and a no-contact order with all law enforcement witnesses. My client will post a secured bond backed by real property from her family and friends.

Ms. Webber has no history of violence, no history of flight, and she is willing to comply with any restriction this Court imposes. We respectfully submit that she has rebutted the presumption of detention and that these conditions will assure her appearance and the safety of the community. She is innocent in every sense of the word and looks forward to proving that to the court.”

Diane took her seat, took a moment to offer Elizabeth a smile. Her client smiled back nervously, barely a lift of the corners of her mouth.

The judge slid his reading glasses back on. “I have a few questions for the government based on the available evidence. Mr. Reynolds?”

“Yes, Your Honor?” Reynolds got to his feet. “The government is ready and willing to answer whatever the court asks.”

“Suckup,” Aiden muttered, and Jake elbowed him.

“I read the file. Is it true that the 911 report came from Ms. Webber’s alibi?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Reynolds hesitated. “Mr. Michael Corinthos called 911 to report the shooting.”

“And his statement says that they were in the gardens and heard the gunshots. Are we suggesting this statement is false?”

Reynolds hesitated, and Diane frowned at him. Had he not prepared for that question? “We are still investigating the holes in his statement, yes. We have only his and Ms. Webber’s word. Mr. Corinthos has a reason to lie. His cousin is Ms. Webber’s son, and she’s been a close family friend his entire life.”

“And we’re suggesting the murderer shot him and then sat by while her son’s cousin called 911 while she pretended to save her victim’s life?” Judge McAvoy asked, skeptically.

“Again, there are only five witnesses that claim to have heard the gunshots. We have no way to confirm—”

“Only five? Five isn’t a small number, Mr. Reynolds.”

“Perhaps not, but every member is related to Ms. Webber in some way, with a reason to protect her. Jacob Webber and Daniel Morgan, her son and his half-brother. Jason Morgan, a former lover—”

Jake wrinkled his nose despite himself. Ew.

“Jason Morgan—” The judge paused. “The third-party custodian you have no objection to? We’re saying he’s lying about his statement?”

Reynolds paused, then cleared his throat. “Your Honor, these are questions better suited to a preliminary hearing with testimony—”

“Or a hearing on a motion to dismiss,” the judge said wryly. “Of course. This is just a bail hearing when I should determine if Ms. Webber stays in federal custody or goes home today to her sons and, uh, all the liars she’s surrounded herself with. She lives with one of the primary witnesses, Miss Miller? And the third-party custodian?”

Diane got to her feet. “Your Honor, the five witnesses gave their statements to the responding officers the night of the crime. Their stories have not, and will not change. Simply because they are the truth. I can assure you, allowing Ms. Webber her freedom will not affect the facts of this case. And I should think if their stories did change—” She fluttered her lashes at Reynolds who pressed his lips together. “Mr. Reynolds and Agent Caldwell would just jump for joy, wouldn’t they?”

Judge McAcoy’s smile was a bit then. “I suppose we’ll find out. Mr. Reynolds, I’m not impressed by the evidence in this case. It’s thin at best, and at worst, looks like prosecutorial overreach designed to put Ms. Webber in federal custody. I look forward to your reply to Ms. Miller’s motion to dismiss. As for bail—” He shifted, looked down at his laptop. “Ms. Webber, it is extremely rare for a defendant charged with murdering a federal agent to gain her conditional release. If you step one foot out of line, I will revoke bail—”

He lifted his eyes to Diane. “Let’s discuss the conditions for Ms. Webber’s release.”

On the television screen, Jake watched his mother press hands to her mouth, tears in her eyes. He looked at his father — and knew he saw his own relief reflected back in Jason’s expression.

“She’s coming home?” he asked, because he just needed to hear it again, keeping his voice.

“We won?” Aiden hissed.

“Yes.” Jason exhaled slowly. “We won. She’s coming home.”

+40

Written in 60 minutes.

Tuesday, September 9, 2024

Webber House: Living Room

Jason stepped back, allowed Diane inside the house. “You didn’t have to come all the way over here—we could have talked about the interview on the phone.”

“No, no, I wanted to nail down some final details before tomorrow.” Diane set her briefcase on the chair, looked around the downstairs. “Everything back to the way it was before the search warrant?”

“As best as the boys could remember.” Jason picked up a pillow that had fallen off the sofa that morning. “Diane, we’ve both made them some pretty big promises—” He faced his lawyer. “What if we’re wrong? What if they don’t let her out?”

“It’s kept me up at night,” Diane admitted. She laid a hand on the top of the armchair. “But that’s one of the reasons we gambled with naming you the third party custodian. I really don’t think the feds will be able to resist the opportunity.”

“I still really don’t understand what I’m supposed to do,” Jason said, folding his arms. “The guy on the phone just asked me a bunch of questions about my background and employment. I’ve never even heard of this thing before.”

“It’s unique to federal investigations, which, thank God, you’ve never gotten this far on federal charges. It’s not that different from posting bail for someone,” Diane said. “You’re just guaranteeing Elizabeth will meet her bail conditions. The AUSA will have complete access to the both of you. Monitoring who comes and goes while she’s house arrest, probably wiretapping the landline, showing up unannounced — they think you’re both in a conspiracy, Jason. They’re going to want to catch you conspiring.”

“I guess. But the guy on the phone asked me about the felony charges from 2010,” Jason said. “I told you that would be an issue — it was with Sam’s parole officer—”

“And that’s how we’ll know if we’re going to win,” Diane replied. She raised a finger. “If they object to you, then they’ll probably fight tooth and nail to keep her inside and pressure you to turn yourself in. But if they let it go—” She lifted a shoulder. “Then we’re golden.” She hesitated. “But it is a risk, Jason. You have to keep yourself out of trouble right now. No suspicious activity, no shipments in the warehouse—”

“I told you. I’m clean. I gave up enough for Sonny, and for Carly,” Jason added. “I’m out. And I’m staying out. There’s no risk, Diane. Elizabeth and I are innocent. We don’t know what happened that night, other than what we told the cops already. There’s nothing to catch us on.”

Diane nodded. “And it does give me more tools to play with, so I appreciate that. Well, if the interview went well, and we’re all set there — ” She sighed. “I do have some bad news, and I think that Jake and Aiden would probably prefer to hear it from you.”

PC High: Cafeteria

“I don’t think he’ll agree,” Danny said with a shake of his head. “We came too close to getting caught the last time we asked—”

Rocco cracked open his carton of milk. “Aunt Liz is like my dad when it comes to Aiden. She never asks question — the only reason we nearly got nailed was you forgetting to turn off your phone and leaking our location. But we’ve got a plan for that.”

“Still—with everything going on at his house—” Danny paused when Aiden dropped his tray next to them and climbed over the bench to sit. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Aiden looked from his cousin to Danny, then back again. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No. No. We’re trying to get to Frankie’s party this weekend, and we know you can’t go,” Rocco added. “Cam’s supposed to be here, right?”

“Yeah. He’s coming on Friday. And the last time we went to Frankie’s, I got sick.” Aiden made a face. “I think I gotta build up to that much vodka.”

Danny snorted, and Aiden threw a fry at him. “When this is all done with your mom, we’ll have to work on that. But I’ve got to get away from my mom or I’m gonna lose it.”

“And you need me to be part of the cover story?” Aiden asked. “I don’t know—”

“That’s what I said. Your mom’s coming home tomorrow — I hope so — and Cam being here — you’ll be too busy. And Dante might not believe we’d stay the night with that going on,” Danny told Rocco.

“You’re not thinking of it the right way—” Rocco pointed a carrot piece at him. “Cam’s coming home. That’s my cousin, man. And he’s going to my dream school. I gotta start thinking about college, and it’d be good for Aunt Liz, you know. Distraction. Plus, Danny — he needs to be there for his big brother.”

“I’m very worried,” Danny added.

Aiden wrinkled his nose. “Isn’t the FBI, like, tailing you? I mean they weren’t here today, but Rocco said something happened in the park—”

“Ow—” Rocco grimaced, then kicked Danny back. “Hey. It’s not a secret, dickhead.”

Danny pushed his tray away a little, some of his good mood fading. “They’re not gonna bother me again. That guy believes me now.”

“Yeah, only because now he thinks your dad was using you guys.” Rocco bit into his carrot with relish. “Still, that puts pressure back on him, right?”

Aiden frowned. “Wait. The FBI thinks Jason made it so that you guys saw him right after the gunshots? Like they still think he’s involved? But that would mean he knows something, and Jake says he doesn’t.”

“Well, yeah, but Jake’s dad also pretended to be dead for a while, so…” Rocco shrugged, popped the last of the carrot in his mouth. “Anyway, you can see why our boy needs a night away from all of this. If we could get you out, we would.” He leaned in. “And listen, if we get caught, we’ll just say we dropped our phones in your backpack without you knowing. We’ll take the heat. We just need somewhere to leave them so our locations look solid.”

“And you know your mom would believe that. Her sweet baby can’t do anything wrong.” Danny leaned over to pinch Aiden’s cheek, who swatted his hand.

“Shut up, asshole. Fine. I’ll cover for you, but you’re gonna owe me. Big time.”

Jamesville Correctional Facility: Protective Custody

The guard shoved the plastic tray through the slot in Elizabeth’s cell door, and almost as soon as she had a grip on it, he slid it closed, shutting off even a window to the outside world.

She’d had one hour of exercise yesterday — but it had been alone, in a separate yard from the other inmates. Other than the guards who walked her to and from, her ankles and wrists clanging from the shackles and cuffs she wore everywhere — she hadn’t seen anyone other than Diane on Sunday.

Elizabeth set her tray on the cot, then sat down, crossed legged, leaning back against the wall. Twenty-four hours from now, she’d know if bail were being granted. She’d be home before midnight tomorrow. She’d made it this far — just a little while longer.

She looked down at the tray, her stomach rolling at the plain mashed potatoes and the mush that was supposed to be some kind of stew. Her appetite had vanished in the last four days, and this wasn’t reactivating it. She reached for the small bottle of water, then noticed something sticking out beneath the plate of stew — some kind of paper—

Elizabeth picked it up and jolted — it was a photograph of the boys, taken the day Cameron had gone back to school in August, barely two weeks old. She flipped it over and pressed her hand to her lips at the familar handwriting. I’m sorry it took so long. It was unsigned — likely to avoid trouble if it had been intercepted.

She didn’t know how he’d done it, but Jason had found a way to make this terrible situation at least sort of bearable. She traced her boys’ face, so beloved, so grown up — she’d see them tomorrow. She’d be home tomorrow.

She kissed her boys’ faces, wishing it were them. Please, let this almost be over. Please.

Webber House: Living Room

“One silver lining—” Jake dropped his bag on the floor by the door. “I get to skip the first calculus test tomorrow—”

“How do you already have tests?” Aiden flopped onto the sofa, kicking off his sneakers. “Man, I am never taking those college classes. You want to be an artist, what are you doing in Calculus?”

“Using my brain, numnuts—” Jake rapped Aiden’s head. “You wouldn’t know anything about that. If it’s not in a recipe, you can’t be bothered.”

“Hey, I’ll never go broke. People always need to eat. Pretty pictures—” Aiden snorted. “Good luck paying the bills—ow—get off—” he screeched when Jake just sat on his chest.

The door opened behind them, and they both hurried to their feet — Jake remembering a moment too late it wouldn’t be their mother coming in to catch Jake bugging his little brother.

Jason paused in the doorway, the key still in his hand. He frowned. “Why are you standing like that?”

“Uh, no reason.” Jake shoved his hands in his pockets. “We’re good for tomorrow, right? Like, I already told my teachers—”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Jason closed the door, dropped the keys on the table next to the door. “There’s just—we should talk about what to expect.”

“I’ve been to court before,” Jake said, sitting back on the sofa, Aiden falling next to him. Jason sat in the arm chair. “It’s no big deal—”

“Federal court is different.” Jason paused. “Diane tried really hard, but your mother—she’s not going to be at the hearing tomorrow.”

Aiden went still. “What? But you guys said—”

“Why the hell not?” Jake said at the same time.

“We said that she’d make bail. That’s still true. We think,” Jason added. “But your mother is in a prison about eight miles outside of Syracuse. They’re not going to transport her to the court house. She’s going to appear by computer.”

Jake scowled. “What, like on Zoom? That bullshit the school tried to make us do on snow days? Man. That’s not fair! Doesn’t she have, like, rights?”

“We might have been able to force it. But it would have delayed the hearing another day, maybe two.” Jason paused. “Diane thought, and I agreed, that it was better to have her home than to fight for the chance to sit behind in the court room.”

“But I wanted to see her,” Aiden said. He crossed his arms. “It’s not fair. They haven’t let us even talk to her on the phone—”

“They’re not going to let her out, are they? Because if they were going to let her out, they’d bring her to the hearing—” Jake said, cutting off his brother, who looked at him with wide eyes.

“That’s—that’s not how bail works,” Jason told them. “Even if she were in the room, she’d still be taken back to the jail. The judge grants the order, it goes for processing, and it’s hours.”

“We’d probably have a better view of her if we stayed home and watched it online,” Jake muttered. “Oh, wait, we can’t. The FBI took all our stupid computers.” He leaned back. “And Cam’s Playstation. And they say Mom’s the criminal.”

“I’m sorry,” his dad said again, and Jake looked at him. “I—I was hoping we’d get to see her, too. It’s been hard for me, and I know it’s worse for both of you. I promise you, if Diane thought there was a way—”

“I’d rather have her tomorrow, I guess.” Aiden heaved a heavy sigh. “And we should go to the hearing anyway. Right? Because part of the reason Mom needs to come home is for us. I mean, you’re doing fine,” he added hastily. “I’m not ungrateful or anything—”

“Don’t be stupid,” Jake said, elbowing Aiden lightly. “Dad’s not gonna take offense if we say we wish Mom were here instead of him. He’s not an idiot.”

His dad’s smile was a bit a relief. “I get it. And yes, you should both still be there. You’ll be able to see her a little bit, and she might get to see you. But then you’ll both come home while I wait to pick her up at jail. It’ll be late,” he repeated when Jake started to protest.

Jake decided not to argue that right now. He’d fight that battle tomorrow. “Okay, but—you’re like really sure they’ll let her come home? How do you know?”

“We’re going to know within the first five minutes,” Jason told them. “As soon as he says what I’m hoping to hear, I’ll let you both know. And no, I’m not telling you what it is.”

“Fair enough. I just—I really want her to be home.”

“Me, too,” Aiden said, and he leaned against Jake slightly, like he used to when they were both younger.”That makes us three of us.” Jason got to his feet. “Where do you want to order dinner tonight?”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Caldwell knocked on Anna’s open door, and she glanced up—removing her reading glasses when she realized who was there. “Agent.” She gestured at the chair in front of him. “Have a seat.”

“I don’t have a lot of time,” he said, though it was a lie. When she’d asked to meet with him, he’d dropped everything, relieved not to orchestrate a reason to set his trap.

“This won’t take long.” She got to her feet, still holding her glasses. “We’ve had some phone calls from concerned faculty and administration at the high school.” One brow winged up. “Interviewing their teachers? Their friends? Don’t you think you’re going a little hard on a couple of teenagers?”

“I have a dead agent, Commissioner—”

“And you’re spending all your time harassing two boys over an alibi that corresponds with the one Monica Quartermaine gave. She spoke with Jason just shortly before the gunshots—”

“She didn’t hear the gunshots, and she’s his mother. ”

“Oh, so everyone is lying.” Anna leaned against her desk, her arms folded. “If you believe that, then why is Elizabeth Webber in federal custody on murder charges?”

“Because it’s a conspiracy. You know, when someone helps someone get away with a crime?” Caldwell tipped his head. “You’d think you’d know what that is.”

There was just a slight narrowing of her eyes, but she didn’t bite. “Michael and Elizabeth alibi one another, and Jason’s boys alibi him. Perhaps neither of them did it—”

“Then one of them knows who did. And until they come clean—I follow the leads I have.”

“How can you be so sure?” Anna demanded. “You have no evidence of this phantom deal you claim Jason—” She stopped when Caldwell reached inside his pocket. “What are you doing—”

“Playing you a copy of our most important piece of evidence. On one condition—” He scrolled through his phone until he reached his files. “I’d prefer to have the commissioner’s cooperation for this, so I’m willing to give a little. But if this leaves this office—”

“It won’t.”

“I’ll know where it came from,” Caldwell finished. He pressed play. And Jason Morgan’s voice began to speak.

“Cates. We need to talk. Around six thirty. The boathouse on the Quartermaine estate. I’ll be there tonight…I’m ready to make the deal.”

+30

Written in like…60ish minutes. We had a keyboard issue. The timer was paused, and I lost track.

Tuesday, September 9, 2024

 Miller & Davis: Lobby

Kristina emerged from her mother’s office, exhausted from another marathon session preparing for the dismissal hearing in a few weeks when Kristina would have to testify on her own behalf — and for some reason, Alexis didn’t seem to think Kristina could handle it.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,”  her mother had said with that annoying tone, “it’s just that you sometimes get a little worked up, and your impulsive nature takes over. We can’t have that on the stand.”

Impulsive nature. If Alexis only knew what Kristina had pulled off these last few weeks without anyone—

“Oh, Kristina—I’m so glad I caught you.”

Kristina halted at the door, turned back to see Diane at the doorway of her own office. “Diane. Hey. I was just leaving—”

“I know, I almost missed your mother’s text letting me know. Come in for a second, would you?”

Kristina hesitated, thought about making excuses but decided if Diane had any real suspicions, she’d sound different. “All right. But I have to get to Charlie’s soon—”

“It won’t take long.”

While Kristina settled in a chair by Diane’s desk, her mother’s best friend closed the door. “Is everything okay?”

“Hard to say. I wasn’t sure if Spinelli had talked to you yet — I don’t know if he’s started the witness interviews.” Diane returned to her desk, took a seat. “I thought it might be easier if I spoke to you.”

“To me? Spinelli?” Kristina squinted. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m sorry—sorry—” Diane shook her head slightly. “Let me back up. It’s been a little…hectic since last Friday. When I met with Elizabeth on Sunday, we finally had a chance to start talking about her movements last week — where she went, where her car was — we need to account for everything so we can pinpoint who had access and where.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a great place to start. I just don’t know how I can help.” Kristina tilted her head.

Diane frowned, checked her notes. “Well, Elizabeth said you’d stopped by last week. The day after the barbecue and murder. Sometime around noon?”

Kristina paused, wondering how to play this, how to get more information from Diane than she gave her. “Oh. Oh, right, of course.” She blew out a small breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even—I didn’t even think about it. I wasn’t there that long, I don’t think. Maybe fifteen minutes?”

“Yes, Elizabeth said she was in a hurry. Probably why she said it wasn’t exactly a pleasant conversation.” Diane lifted her brows. “She didn’t really get into the details, only that it was a short and ended unhappily.”

“That…would be a fair description. I probably shouldn’t have gone in the first place. It’s just—” Kristina lifted her hands. “Mom’s been under so much stress, you know? She always feels like she has to take care of all us girls. Molly and I are—” She fidgeted. “Well, things aren’t great there. And Sam’s been upset about that. We’re all angry about what’s happening to me, how the FBI seems to care more about nailing Dad through me than he does about a baby’s death. When I saw Sam for breakfast that morning, she was even more upset. Danny had been taken to the PCPD the night before and she was just—completely done with it. Done with Jason having any contact with Danny at all. I just—I wanted to help.”

“And you went to Elizabeth,” Diane said, drawing out the words like it was a crazy idea.

“Well, I know she and Sam haven’t always seen eye to eye on a lot of things, they’ve been pretty lock-step with keeping that from Jake and Danny. They raised them as brothers. I just—I wanted to remind Elizabeth of that. I thought we could brainstorm some solutions. I can’t—I can’t fix anything, you know? Not what’s happening me, to Molly, to my mom, but this? I don’t know. I wanted to help.” Kristina chewed on her bottom lip. “But I guess I have my sister’s gift for finding the exact wrong words to piss Elizabeth off. Like she said, it didn’t go well.”

“Fair enough. And the content of the encouter—” Diane held up her hands. “Not really the point. I just wanted to know if you’d seen anything in the neighborhood. Did you notice Elizabeth’s car? It’s a long shot, but anything you can give me would be great.”

Had Elizabeth mentioned the key? Was Diane leaving it out to see if Kristina would supply that information? Kristina furrowed her brow, pretending to be thinking about that day. “I don’t know if I would have known what her car looked like, to be honest. Was it front of her house?”

“It was. Right out front.”

“I’m trying to remember, but I just—I really can’t. Maybe—maybe someone in the neighborhood would. I mean, some people pay attention to the cars like it’s their job. I know parking’s limited down by that area. I had to circle the clock a few times until I found something.”

“That’s on our list,” Diane said. “The FBI, I think, has beaten us to it, subpoening footage from security cameras. It’s mostly Ring cameras, which isn’t great. They have a limited view, they’re motion activated, and of course — I have to be extremely careful about access. The evidence has to be admissible.”

“Right. Otherwise, you could just turn around while Spinelli got to work.” Kristina paused. “Does Elizabeth have security footage?”

“Yes. But she couldn’t remember her password, and I can’t have Spinelli just…” Diane made a face. “Hack into it. The feds took all her computer equipment, so it won’t be saved on her browser. And worst of all, it’s just her front entrance. There’s no view of the car.”

“Oh, because of that wall—” Kristina pretended to be disappointed. “That has to be so frustrating.” And that meant the only thing Elizabeth’s security had caught would be Kristina coming and going — easy to explain away. And there was a good chance the neighbors hadn’t picked anything up. She’d done it in broad daylight, thinking that no one would pay attention. In the middle of the night would have been riskier.

“You’re not kidding. I’m not saying we won’t hit pay dirt with the neighbors, but we have aways to go before we get there. Well, I won’t keep you any longer. If you think of anything that can help—”

Kristina got to her feet, lifting her purse. “You’ll be my first call.”

PCPD: Conference Room

Reynolds stacked the files, then slid them into the box awaiting transfer to his office in Syracuse. “Diane Miller’s been busy filing motions.”

“I’m not surprised.” Caldwell closed the door, then paced to the window, peering out over  rain-soaked streets. “Motion to dismiss?”

“Yes. The judge will probably deny it, but if we go to trial with what you have—” Reynolds lifted his brow. “Diane has a great deal of reasonable doubt on her hands. We’ll be lucky to get an indictment—”

“We won’t need this to go to trial.” Caldwell turned back to him. “The rain’s supposed to let up in a few days. We’ll be back out on the Quartermaine estate to look for that fourth bullet. We scoop that up, match it to the gun, and it’s the nail in the coffin we need.”

“We still can’t tie her to th e weapon outside of h er car — which wasn’t at the house.” The attorney flipped through some papers. “Ballistics can’t match the slugs we pulled from Cates. Too much damage. The shell casings just confirm the ammunition is the same, but consistent isn’t enough. Not when she’s got a solid alibi from the 911 reporting witness. And she cooperated on scene—”

“You saw her file. It’s clean but how many times has her name been linked with Jason Morgan?” Caldwell demanded. “Bomb threats, explosions, shootings, kidnappings — it’s not the first time he’s killed someone with her on scene. And the nephew isn’t much more credible. If you can’t handle that on the stand, maybe you’re not good at your job.”

Reynolds lifted his brow. “Pretty confident, aren’t you? How’s your campaign to turn the boys against their father? Isn’t that the key to the whole thing?”

“Beginning to think they might be telling the truth,” Caldwell admitted. “Which means Morgan lured Cates there for someone else to do the shooting. That puts Webber back on the board, with the nephew there to make it look good. Don’t forget — he had a reason to want Cates dead, too. But a few more days, I think I’ll be able to know for sure. The older one — he’s tougher. I figured he’d be easier to crack. Less time with his dad since his parents never married, two years of lies, but Webber raised her kid like a good mob wife.”

“But the younger one?”

“I’m thinking he’s easier to crack. I already have him wondering if his dad set him up to be the alibi.” Caldwell gripped the back of the chair. “How does the next stage look? Did Miller do what we thought she would?”

“She suggested Jason Morgan as the third-party custodian to guarantee Webber’s release. Mentioned the felony, but thinks since it’s almost fifteen years old, it shouldn’t matter.” Reynolds closed the file he’d been reading. “He’s already staying in the home, would continue that close proximity as her son’s father, and cites a long-standing friendship going back to ’99. No mention of a current relationship, but that might be strategic.”

“Surprised she gave into the temptation. You think Morgan insisted?”

“Maybe. They’ve got Laura Collins listed as a backup. With the mayor in her corner, her clean record, I think you were right — she’ll get bail.” Reynolds hesitated. “But I could argue. She’s got an immunity deal on the record — she aided a kidnapping. I could bring that up. Having her inside longer might put more pressure on her kids. Jake Webber might be a tough kid, but he’ll be in that courtroom maybe, tomorrow. I’ll talk about going for the death penalty. Daddy can’t fix that.”

Caldwell tipped his head. “You’d know better than me what the judge will do, but I still say having her on the outside, watching her and Morgan scramble to cover their tracks, it’s better. So far, it looks like he’s willing to let her go down for it. Maybe she’s already pissed he hasn’t gotten her out by coming forward. Having her out, having him under the kind of control a third-party deal gets us— it’s worth the risk.” He paused. “And if you’re interested, I think I can get us a little payback for Pikeman.”

Reynolds went still. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. I wanna create some daylight between Anna Devane and Morgan. Right now, she’s staying neutral. I think if we show her what we have — it’ll break that dynamic. She’ll demand answers from Morgan.”

“Why would we tip our hand that we have it until I’m forced to turn it over in discovery?” Reynolds wanted to know. “Like you said — she’ll run straight to him —”

“And then I’ll have what I need to file obstruction charges against her. Because no one knows what we have. If Miller knew, she’d have used it in her motion to dismiss.” Caldwell paused. “Valentin Cassadine might be out our grasp, but I’ll settle for getting the woman who let that happen and the man that helped her do it and killed an FBI agent to get away with it.”

Miller & Davis: Office

Sam knocked on the open door, and Spinelli jolted, his hands lifting from the keyboard. “Hey. Mom said she set you up with a headquarters here.”

Spinelli clicked a few keys, and his screen went dark. She sighed. “Spinelli, I’m not here to make trouble—”

“Stone Cold made it very clear,” he said. “You’re not to be involved—”

“And I told you that he already backed down.” Sam sat on the edge of the desk. “He’s going to leave it up to Elizabeth, and I know how to convince her to let me help. So there’s no reason not let me in now—”

“Except I made a promise, and I’m keeping it. It’s not fair of you to ask me differently,” he said quietly, meeting her eyes. She flushed. “This is too big, too important—”

“Which is exactly why I need to help. There’s a lot riding on this—”

“And why I’m not beginning the job by pissing off my client,” Spinelli cut in.

Sam grimaced. “Well, the client is in jail, and we both know Jason speaks for her. So why not just let me—”

“What’s the problem with waiting a day or two?” he wanted to know. “You can wait. I won’t solve the case that fast.” He leaned forward. “And don’t try to tell me you want to help Elizabeth. We both know the two of you only get along when Stone Cold isn’t in the picture.”

Sam pursed her lips. “Danny is really angry with me. Even after I eased the restrictions. I think it would do a lot to help fix that situation if I show him I’m trying to help his brother. They love each other.”

“They do. And it’s probably why Elizabeth will say yes.” Spinelli got to his feet. “But until she does, the answer is no.”

Kelly’s: Courtyard

“Sorry I’m late.” Molly dropped her bag in a chair next to Chase, then sat across from him. “I’ve got everything ready on my side. What about you?”

“Dante and I are standing ready. And he knows not to say anything to Sam until it’s time,” Chase said. “Is Curtis going to help?”

“He’s got the editorials and news coverage ready. As soon as we get word that Elizabeth is out on bail, I’ll meet with Robert and get things rolling.” She paused as the waitress approached their table to take their orders. When they were alone again, Molly continued, “But nothing happens officially until Elizabeth is at home.”

“Curtis knows. Thursday morning. Nothing leaking before then. He’s writing the editorial himself.” Chase folded his arms on the table, leaned forward. “Are you worried Robert will say no?”

“No. Because I have it on good authority from Maxie that he got a call from Robin about what’s going on here. Apparently, the news hit Cameron over the weekend, and he and Emma took the fight to her parents. Robin was very angry that her dad didn’t fight jurisdiction. Robert’s going to say yes. Especially when he finds out how many of us are on board.” She paused. “But I am worried about Anna. She can’t stop me, but she might not be happy I’m going over her head.”

Chase exhaled slowly. “Yeah, I’ve…I’ve had some doubts about her. Since we found out Valentin was Pikeman—she and Jason spent all last spring on that case — he was always in her office. But the bad guy turns out to be her former boyfriend? And he gets tipped off? After what he did to Dante, after what he’s done to everyone—I don’t really care if she’s unhappy.”

“I wondered that, too, when the case details hit the press. But let’s fight one institution at a time. First, the FBI. Then, we can talk about corruption in our own backyard.”

+34

Written in 57 minutes.

Monday, September 8, 2024

Webber House: Front Entrance

Jake trudged up to the front of the house, his backpack half hanging off his shoulder, avoiding the pair of neighbors on their front step, watching him. He ignored them, the way he’d been ignoring everything. The looks from teachers less sympathetic than Mrs. Maguire, the other students whispering, because hey, they knew who his dad was, and maybe he’d done something. Wasn’t his dad the killer? Didn’t he get arrested for killing Jake’s stepdad? Maybe his mother had been threatened to stay quiet and take the rap—

He’d heard it all, trying to discard each piece as the bullshit he knew it was. His dad hadn’t killed Franco. And if he’d killed someone else, well, Jake didn’t know that for sure. And his dad would never threaten his mother—

But would he keep quiet? Would he keep a secret, counting on Diane to bring Elizabeth home on a technicality?

Jake shoved the front door open, then stopped dead when he saw his father and Diane in the middle of the room, in the middle of a conversation. They both turned at his entrance. Just standing in his mother’s living room, doing nothing. Just like they’d done since Friday. No one had done anything to stop his mother from being dragged away, their house ripped apart—

“Why aren’t you doing something to stop this?” Jake demanded, and Jason closed his mouth, the greeting cut abruptly. “Make them stop lying!” He dropped his bag on the ground. “Why aren’t you making it stop?”

“Jake—” Jason stepped towards him, but Jake just shook his head, slammed the door and stalked past his father. “I know this is difficult—”

“Difficult for who? You?” Jake whirled on him, at the absolute limit. “Nothing’s changed about your life, except you’re sleeping in Cameron’s room. My mother is in jail. Okay? Everyone’s calling her a murderer, and they’re talking to my teachers and my friends, and I can handle it, right? I can handle it,” Jake repeated, “but Danny can’t. Aiden shouldn’t. And you’re not doing anything to stop it!”

“The FBI is at the school?” Diane’s lips settled in an unhappy line. “That’s crossing lines. I’ll make some calls—”

“I don’t care about any of that! Make a call and get Mom out.” He glared at his father. “Tell them whatever they want to know and make them bring her home.”

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Kristina took a seat at one of the tables, reaching for a menu though she had it memorized by now, and used the time to consider how things were unfolding.

She knew she’d made the right choice in forcing the cops to search Elizabeth’s car, even though it had been risky to leave that tip — they’d been circling around the other suspects, and if they decided to ask her apartment complex for the security footage, her alibi would fall apart. She needed to delay that as long as possible — at least thirty days.

And the gun wouldn’t trace back to her — her father would never mention it being missing, even if he even knew. He had several guns, after all, and this one wasn’t registered. None of the ones in the safe ever were.

No, she’d really thought of everything except the small chance that Elizabeth would connect Kristina’s visit to losing her key fob. That was probably the trickiest part, Kristina thought, and she’d need to have a story ready if it came up.

She heard the door jingle behind her and glanced up absently, then frowned when Molly kept walking past her. “Really? You’re not even going to acknowledge my existence?”

Molly stopped, swinging back to face her, the paper bag dangling from her hand. “It seemed easier than arguing with you.”

“Why do you think we’d argue?” Kristina laid the menu aside. Adopting a softer tone, she continued, “I know I haven’t…handled anything that’s happened well. I just…I wish you’d give me a break. That we could find a way to grieve this together.”

“I wish we could.” Molly’s facade slipped slightly and she swallowed hard. “But you’ll either talk around saying her name or you’ll call her Adela and we’ll be right where we started.”

“I understand that’s a sticking point,” Kristina said carefully. “I just wish you’d talked to me before you’d named her on the paperwork. We could have had a conversation, made a compromise—”

“No, no! That is—” Molly jabbed a finger at her, her grip on the paper bag with the other hand tightening, the bag crinkling in protest. “There is no compromise. Irene was my daughter. Mine and TJ’s, and it was our right to give her the name of someone important to TJ. Not you. You can’t name her for the grandmother you never even knew. Where do you get the audacity to look at me after I found those custody papers, after—” She broke off, took a deep breath. “And this is why we can’t be in the same room. Not right now.”

“Where do I get the audacity? Maybe because it was my egg that created her. That I carried her, nurtured her for eight months,” Kristina bit out. “You were her mother on paper, sure. But where it mattered, in the blood—Adela was my daughter.”

Molly stared at her, her throat working hard, tears shimmering. “You begged me to be the surrogate. Begged me to let you help give us our family. TJ didn’t want it, he argued about it. He knew it was a terrible idea, and he was right. Because you’re too selfish to do something so generous. You wanted to be the center of attention. To make yourself the star. You threw yourself in your dad’s custody battle, confronting Ava—” She curled her fist against her heart. “I’m only sorry Mom will win her motion, and that once again, someone will rescue from the consequences of your own action. Because I think you’re lying. I don’t think Ava laid a hand on you.”

Kristina got to her feet, her nostrils flaring in outrage. “She pushed me!”

“That’s not what those pictures show. You went there to confront her. You were aggressive, probably rude, and whatever happened after that is your fault. You killed my daughter. Everything that happens because of it, Kristina, is on you. You are your own worst enemy, and you make everyone around you worse for it. I am done enabling you. Go to hell, and rot there.”

Port Charles Park

Danny slouched against the picnic table, his back to the table, resting on his elbows. “You know if our parents catch us, we’ll get our asses kicked.”

Rocco snorted, then passed him the vape pen. “You’re the only one who’s been caught.” He drew in a long drag, then passed it back to Danny. “Finish it off and then we’ll go. We need to be home and change before my dad gets home or he’ll smell it.”

When they’d finished, they stowed the pen in its safe spot — the inner pocket of Rocco’s backpack which Dante never touched because, as Rocco said with a snort, his dad trusted him. And why not? He never did anything wrong.

“The perfect son,” Rocco reminded him with a smirk as they left the clearing and came out onto the path. “If you hadn’t gotten nailed for curfew so much last year, we’d have more freedom. Like Frankie’s party this weekend. We’re never gonna be able to go with the way your mom’s cracked down on you.”

“We just have to figure out—” Danny came to a stop on the path as it emerged into the parking lot. A pair of suits were leaning against the SUV, talking to the guy who’d come to the Quartermaines the day of the murder, who’d dragged them to the station. Who’d questioned Danny on Saturday.

“Ah, shit, I thought they were supposed to stay away from us,” Rocco muttered. “Don’t do anything dumb that gets us searched—” He sighed when Danny stalked over to the SUV. “Like that. Oh, man, we’re so dead.”

“What you are doing here?” Danny demanded, fisting his hands at his sides. “Are you following me?”

Caldwell arched a brow. “Do you have something to hide?” He sniffed, looked at his fellow agents. “Do you smell that?”

“Sir?”

Danny’s cheeks heated. “I want you to leave me alone! I told you what happened!”

“I understand,” Caldwell said, his tone remaining calm. “You’d do anything to protect your dad after all that time you lost. You might even be telling the truth.”

“Man, come on—” Rocco came up, tugged on Danny’s sleeve. “Let’s just go.”

“No, no!” Danny yanked away from his stepbrother, incensed. “I am telling the truth! My dad was in the house! We’re not lying! So leave me and Jake alone! Stop following us, stop asking questions, just stop!”

“Maybe your father was in the house,” Caldwell continued, ignoring Danny’s outburst. “Maybe he planned it that way.”

Danny went still. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Well, Agent Cates was making life difficult for a lot of people in your life. He arrested your aunt Kristina, did you know that?”

“I—”

“And he was the man your father reported to at the FBI when he was working as an informant.”

Danny closed his mouth, uncertain now at the direction of the conversation. “W-What?”

“Dude, what is going on?” Rocco demanded. “Your dad was a snitch? Holy shit!”

“You don’t think it’s a little bit of a coincidence that your father came out of the house just after the gunshots?” Caldwell pressed, sensing his advantage. “Almost as if he was waiting so he’d be seen.”

“Even if that were true, he’d never let Aunt Liz go down like this,” Rocco said. He tugged Danny’s shirt again. “Dude. We need to go.”

“Well, maybe Aunt Liz isn’t in any real danger. After all, Miss Miller seems very confident she’ll get released on bail. Perhaps your dad knows that, too. Maybe he doesn’t mind putting people in uncomfortable positions to save himself.”

Danny swallowed hard. “Shut up. Stay away from me and my brother. We’re telling the truth a-and that’s just it.” He stalked in the opposite direction, and Rocco jogged after him.

“Dude, don’t let it get to you,” Rocco said, when he caught up to Danny near their bus stop.
“You know your dad would never use you like that—”

“He did, though.” Danny looked at Rocco, miserable. “When he got shot last spring. He told me to keep it secret. From everyone. Even my mom. No one could know. Mom was so mad about it. She said I could—I could have gone to jail, too. For hiding him.”

“Oh—” Rocco hesitated, thrown. “Okay, but like, that was different, right? Wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” Danny stared hard at the walls of the bus stop. “I didn’t think about it being against the law. I just—he’s my dad, and I thought he was dead, but then he wasn’t. And that’s all I cared about.”

“Right. Your dad would never use you and Jake as alibis, so that someone else could get that guy. It’s just not true.”

“Right.” Danny exhaled slowly. “There’s our bus. I wanna go home.”

Webber House: Living Room

Tell them whatever they want to know—

Jason took a deep breath. “What is it that you think I know that could bring your mother home sooner?”

“Maybe I should go,” Diane began, edging towards the door but Jake darted in front of her, blocking her exit.

“No, no, you should hear this, okay? You should her about the secret meetings Dad’s having with Sonny—” and now Jake turned his fury back on his father. “About how if me and Danny just stick to the story, you’re in the clear. Okay, so why do you need me to stick to the story? What do you know?”

“I don’t know anything,” Jason said, holding up a hand, palm facing out. “I don’t—” he repeated when Jake just scoffed. “Jake, do you think I’d let your mother sit in jail if I could get her out—”

“If you thought Diane would get her out for sure, maybe—” Jake lifted his chin, even as his lips trembled, his face red, angry tears in his eyes. “You let me think you were dead, didn’t you? For years and years, I thought you were dead, so maybe you’d let Mom sit in jail for a few days.”

He had no defense for that, nothing to say that could rebut that statement, and the weight of his choices only seemed to get heavier. “I know I’ve lost your trust because of what I did, and that I have to work to get it back—”

“Then tell them what they want!” Jake cried. He dropped his bag on the floor with a thud. “Tell  them! What does Sonny know? Why aren’t you making them let Mom go?” His voice broke. “I want her to come home. Make them l-let her go—I just want it to be over—make her c-come—” He crumpled, his shoulders shaking, and Jason took the chance, gave into impulse, pulled Jake into his arms, as his son started to cry in earnest, just repeating it over and over. Make her come home.

 He held Jake, his son that was now taller than him, stroking his hair the way he might have if he’d had the chance to hold as a child, reassuring him after a nightmare.

Diane stood behind them, her own eyes shimmering with unshed tears, her hand fisted at her mouth.

When Jake started to pull away, when he was just shuddering, and his face was flushed with embarrassment, Jason kept a hand on his shoulder so that Jake couldn’t flee.

“I need you to look at me, okay? Look at me, Jake.” When his son finally met his gaze, the mixture of misery, anger, and embarrassment radiating back, Jason took a deep breath. “If I knew something that could bring her home today, I would tell anyone who wanted to know—”

Jake started to shake his head, pull away, but Jason kept his grip tight to lock his son in place. “No. We can talk about Sonny’s visit. I’ve got nothing to hide. Nothing,” he repeated, when Jake heaved a shaky breath. “There is nothing I want more than to bring your mother home. Nothing. She has no business being locked up, taken away from you and the boys, and if I could, I’d trade places with her to get her out. I’m the criminal, not her. But I didn’t do this. I don’t know who did.”

“You—” Jake dragged a hand over his eyes. “You really don’t know?”

“I promise you, if I did, I’d give them up without hesitation. Even if it were Sonny,” Jason added. “I don’t know who did this,” he repeated. “But when I find out who did this to you, to your mother, to all of us, they’re going to wish they’d never been born.”

“I’m—” Jake struggled to take in a normal breath. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize. Don’t.” Jason hugged him again, relieved when his son hugged him back. “We’re going to bring her home, Jake. I promise you.” He made eye contact with Diane as  he continued to speak. “Whatever I have to do to make sure she’s free, I’ll do it. Whatever it costs.”

+40

Written in 67 minutes. Sorry, went over, but I got off to a slow start because Lizzie was blocking part of the keyboard and typing was awkward until she moved, lol.

Monday, September 8, 2024

Webber House: Living Room

Aiden dropped his backpack on the sofa, scowled at Jake. “Remind me to put salt in the next thing I bake for Cameron.”

“Remind you? I’ll be standing next to you,” Jake grumbled. He looked at his dad, on the phone with Diane, then looked back at Aiden. Cameron, in revenge for the emotional guilty trip they’d laid on him to stay in California, had told Jason that he was pretty sure their mom would feel the same way about Aiden or Jake missing school.

And his dad had decided, yeah, that was probably true.

“I should have been an only child.”

“Hey!” Aiden elbowed him, then Jake shoved him back, which then devolved into a pushing match that ended with Aiden going over the sofa and hitting the coffee table.

Jason emerged from the kitchen, the phone still in his hand, and rubbed his forehead. “What’s going on out  here?”

“Nothing.” Jake hauled his brother up. “Does Diane have any good news? Did she get Mom’s hearing moved up?”

“No.” Jason set the phone on the charger by the bookcase. “She filed the motion to dismiss, that’s all. The hearing is still set for Wednesday.”

“I thought Diane was going to get the charges dismissed at the hearing? Why is she filing it today—”

“She’s going to argue for it, but they need a brief filed—it’s more complicated than that. All that matters is that your mom gets released,” Jason said. He reached for the door. “Come on. I’ll drop you off at school.”

“Just where I want to be after my mother gets arrested for murder,” Jake muttered, and his father gave him an odd look as he passed Jason to leave. “What?”

“Jake—”

“I’m going to school, aren’t I? Better than sitting around here like we did all weekend. I’m just saying, everything about this sucks.”

Jamesville Correctional Facility: Protective Custody

It was so quiet.

She hadn’t expected that — the silence of a single cell with cement walls and a metal door that only opened a few times a day. It was better, she thought, than the lockup in Port Charles. Only because it got dark at night, and there was a toilet.

But it was still a small room with no windows—

Elizabeth curled up on the cot, drawing her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs. She closed her eyes, trying to pull back Friday morning. The last time she’d seen Jake and Aiden. What had she said to them? Had she hugged them? Kissed them? Told them how much she loved them?

And Cameron. She’d taken him to the airport when he’d gone back to California. Had she told him how much she missed him, but how proud she was? Had Diane passed on her message? Was he still there?

She couldn’t remember their voices, couldn’t bring them to mind, and it wasn’t enough to remind herself that she was halfway through this nightmare, that Diane had promised she’d go home. Diane had always been able to keep Jason out of jail, so she could be trusted—

But it was so hard believe that this nightmare would end, that anything would finally go her way. She’d done nothing wrong — had tried to save John Cates’ life, had run toward the danger, and now she found herself locked up, the murder weapon planted in her car.

She laid down, pressing her cheek against the thin, useless pillow, still curled up in a fetal position. She just wanted to go home.

Port Charles High: Main Foyer

“Dude, if you don’t hurry up—” Rocco turned, walking backwards a few steps, one hand clutching the strap of his backpack. “We’re gonna be late, and my dad is gonna fry my ass if I get detention this fast—”

“Yeah, yeah—” Danny finished the text, shoved his phone in his pocket. “Come on—” He looked up, then froze when he recognized the man walking into the main office. Caldwell gave a smile and a wave, then disappeared inside.

“Dude?”

“The FBI guy.” Danny swallowed. “Jake said they were in his neighborhood yesterday, talking to everyone. He’s in the office.”

“Seriously? That’s super sus. What does he think he’s gonna found out? Does being late and having shitty grades mean you’re, like, a liar?” Rocco pressed his lips together. “You should tell your dad. Not Sam though. She’ll probably lose her shit.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll tell him. I gotta tell Jake, too. But come on before we’re late for homeroom. I just got my phone back.”

Pozzulo’s Restaurant: Dining Room

 “We should do this more often,” Kristina said, sliding into the booth next to her youngest sister, sweet six-year-old Donna who was kneeling so she could reach her chocolate milk more easily. On Donna’s other side, Michael was scrolling his phone, his coffee probably cold.

Across the table, Sonny was cutting ten-year-old Avery’s omelette. “We would if I could get all of my kids in one spot. Dante couldn’t make it,” he continued, sliding Avery’s plate back to her. “Michael, if you’re too busy—”

“No, no, it’s—” Michael dropped his phone, shook his head. “Sorry. We’re just—we’re juggling a lot at ELQ this week, and I’m handling something with the lawyers. I’m trying to clear my schedule to go down to Syracuse on Wednesday.”

“What’s Sery Koose?” Donna asked, then blew a bubble in her drink.

“Syracuse,” Michael corrected, repeating the word more slowly. “We’re going to see Jake’s mom.”

“You’re going down for that?” Kristina said. Then, as if she’d just remembered, nodded. “Right, right. You’re technically her alibi. That makes sense. That’s all so crazy. Mom told me about it, and I talked to Sam, but I can’t wrap my head around any of it.” She looked over, found her father watching her. “What does Jason say?”

“Not much. We’re keeping distance for right now. Optics.” Sonny shifted, then looked at Michael. “But from what little he did say, it seems like Jason and Diane got his handled. The kids okay?”

“Nervous, mostly. Elizabeth can’t have any visitors or even phone calls until after the hearing. It’s just bullshit to pile on the pressure—”

“Pressure for what?” Kristina asked.

“Jake and Danny. The FBI were talking to Danny on Saturday, lurking around Elizabeth’s neighbors yesterday. Keeping Jake from his mom, keeping Elizabeth from her kids — they think it’s going to make someone break and tell them they’re lying.” Michael scowled. “It’s bullshit—crap,” he corrected, when Avery gasped. “I know, I owe a quarter.” He returned his gaze to his sister. “The FBI think Jason did it, that Jake and Danny are lying—”

“Well, do you know that? They arrested Elizabeth. Doesn’t that mean they think yoy’re lying?” she asked.

Michael shook his head. “They haven’t even asked me for another statement. I gave my original one to Chase on the scene, same as Jason and Elizabeth. Jake and Danny talked to one of the uniforms. But when the FBI got there, who did they pull in? The boys. Who are they harassing?”

“Yeah, I think Michael’s right,” Sonny said. “But the good news is that Jake and Danny are telling the truth. They saw Jason leave the house.” He tipped his head. “After the gunshots. They’re not going to buckle.”

“Of course not. But it’s a shame that they have to go through with this.” Kristina squinted slightly, tapped her jaw. “Do I have something on my face?”

Sonny exhaled. “No. No. I was just—” He sat back. “Thinking about what you’re going through with the FBI. What John Cates was trying to do to you. What his murder is doing to Jason’s boys. To Elizabeth.”

“She tried to save his life,” Michael retorted. “And this is how she gets repaid.” He stabbed a piece of sausage. “But we’re not going to let the FBI get away with this. We’ve got a plan.”

“We?” Kristina echoed.

“I don’t want to say anything until after the hearing,” Michael told her. “But yeah, I’m not the only one who thinks what the FBI is doing is disgusting. Elizabeth is innocent, and they’re destroying her life for nothing.

Kristina bristled. “I’m innocent,” she said through gritted teeth. “They’re trying to destroy my life, too.”

Michael went still, then his cheeks flushed slightly. “I know that, but—”

“In case everyone forgot, I’m also facing charges for something I didn’t do. The FBI is corrupt. Everyone knows that. Where’s the cavalry rushing to my aid?” she demanded.

“You’re not the one in jail,” her father said, and Kristina jerked her head back to his. “If you were in jail, your mother and I would be in Jason’s position, doing whatever we could to get you home. So would your sisters. Your brothers. But you’re home. Free,” he added, and she felt a lick of shame from the judgment she saw reflected back. “Elizabeth’s cut off from her entire family. Including her children. You don’t think that warrants some outrage?  When you know she’s innocent? Which you do. Michael is sitting right here, telling you they heard the gunshots together.”

“Krissy, I promise, I haven’t forgotten what happened to you,” Michael began, but Kristina shook her head, working up some tears that would be sure to change the conversation.

“No, no, you’re right. Of course, what’s happening is a-awful, especially for the kids. I just—it’s so awful what they’re getting away with. I just wish someone would make them stop.” She gripped her orange juice tightly. “Can we just—can we stop talking about it already?”

“Sure, sure. Hey, Avery, you excited about going back to school? You and Donna go back this week, don’t you?”

“I don’t like my new uniform,” Avery told him very seriously, and then launched into a details list of complaints about the private school where she and Donna were enrolled.

Port Charles High: Hallway

“If this is about the homework,” Jake said, following his history teacher out into the hallway. “I thought it was due tomorrow—”

“It is.” His teacher, one he’d had the year before, and one of his favorites took a deep breath. “Jake, are you aware that there are FBI agents questioning your teachers? Faculty? About you and your brother?”

Jake grimaced, looked away. “No, but I guess I should have. I’m sorry, Mrs. Maguire. I don’t—”

“No apology needed,” Mrs. Maguire said, waving away his concern. “They seemed very interested in whether or not you have a history of dishonesty. I made sure to set them straight, Jake, and you know your other teachers will, too. I just—” Her eyes were kind. “I’ve seen the news. I’m so sorry for what you and your brothers are dealing with. For your poor mother.”

His stomach eased slightly, but not much. “It’s…hard. I won’t be here Wednesday. I have to go—I need to see her, even if they don’t let her come home.” He looked away, his eyes burning. “But this sucks. If they’re talking to you, then they’re talking to the other kids. They want me to say I’m lying, and I’m not.” His voice cracked slightly.

“I know. I’m sorry,” she said again. “I wish I could stop this, but the office asked us to cooperate. They’re talking to Danny’s teachers, too. And, well—”

“Shit,” Jake muttered, then flushed. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s an apt word for this. We both know your brother doesn’t have the cleanest record, especially last year.” She folded her arms. “I just wanted to warn you. Keep your head up, Jake. You and your little brother. And with any luck, your mom will be home where she belongs, and the FBI will realize what a horrible mistake they’ve made.”

“Thanks.”

“Go wash your face, and then come back to class. I can’t promise talking about Ancient Greece will be a good distraction, but I’ll do my best.”

Corinthos & Morgan Coffee: Cargo Dock

“Jason?”

Jason heaved another bag of coffee beans from one pallette to the next, ignoring the voice from the opening that lead from the cargo into the main warehouse floor. He wanted to ignore everything which was why he’d assigned himself the worst job in the building today — unpacking the latest shipment. Sweat rolled down both arms, and he felt dirty, gritty —

And for a moment, he’d almost forgotten the horror show that was his life outside this building.

“Jason.”

But the voice was more insistent this time, and Jason reluctantly let the bag drop, and turned to face his ex-wife. “Unless your mother is with you—”

“I think Alexis and Diane have more important things to do than play chaperone, don’t you?” Sam approached him, her arms tightly folded. “Unless you want them to stop working on my sister and Elizabeth’s cases.”

“I’m not the reason we need the lawyer.” Jason stalked past her, heading for the office. He tried to close the door behind but she stepped inside. He snatched a towel from from a shelf, started to wipe off the sweat. “You’ve got two minutes.”

“You haven’t spoken to me like this in a long time. Probably not since you threatened to kill me,” Sam said. She lifted her brows when he just looked at her. “What? We’re not allowed to bring up warm memories?”

“If you think you’re going to use that in a court case, Sam, go for it. I’ll admit to saying it, and then I’ll tell them why. You’ve got one minute now.”

Sam huffed. “I didn’t come here to argue, but you just aggravate me so much—why did you tell Spinelli I can’t work this case with him?”

Jason squinted at her, then it clicked. “Good. He listened. I didn’t know if he would. Sometimes he lets you get away with stupid ideas. Like hacking into the FBI.”

“Jason—”

“You’re the one that decided it would be like this, Sam. Every single time you opened your mouth about Elizabeth and Jake around Danny. Did you think he wouldn’t tell his brother?”

Sam went still, then dropped her eyes to the ground. “I guess I didn’t think about that. What did Jake say?”

“Does it matter? You can’t stand him, you never could, and you think I’m going to put his mother’s life in your hands? No. Spinelli had it right. I don’t trust you.”

Sam nodded, then unfolded her hands, gripping the top of the chair in front of his desk. “You think I’d mess it up? You think I’d do something that puts her in jail? Really? I know I made some really terrible mistakes when Jake was a baby, and no, I haven’t been the…I haven’t handled any of this well the last few months. I don’t really—” She paused. “I don’t really have a good excuse for it. I’m just so angry. At what you did. At what you always did, forcing the rest of us to stand in line so you could keep Carly from self-detonating her own life. And then, you know, nothing even happened. Valentin got away with it, Carly got away with, and the only people who lost anything was my son. And Jake. They lost you more than two years, Jason. For no goddamn reason at all. Why aren’t you more angry?”

Jason shook his head. “Because it does no good. And I don’t care what excuse you have for the way you’ve been acting. It doesn’t change my mind about letting you on the case. So you can go—” He headed for the door, but she got there first, slamming it shut.

“No. We’re not done here yet. I am not the same woman who let Maureen Harper walk away with your son. And you must have believed that at some point because you married me, Jason. We created a family together, and we were happy—”

“And now we’re not—”

“However you and I feel about each other now,” Sam cut in, “is one thing. But Danny and Jake love each other. I—I let myself forget about that. I did. And I’ll admit that. Seeing Danny at the PCPD—it just—” She took a deep breath. “I lost it, and I didn’t exactly get it back until I was forced to. But whether or not I like Jake, Danny does. And Danny is my whole world. He and Scout are all that matters to me. Danny’s brother is hurting, which means Danny is hurting. I promise you, Jason. That’s all I want to do. I want—” She pressed her lips together. “I want to make this right. For Danny, for Jake. For you, too. I’ll—no more restrictions. Danny can see you. As often and whenever he wants.”

Jason sighed, then shook his head. “I can’t agree—”

“Damn it—”

“Because it’s not up to me. I said no because I don’t trust you. I’m not sure I’ve changed my mind, but Elizabeth has the final say. You can plead your case with her.”

“Okay. That’s—” Sam dropped her arm, then stepped back a few steps, unblocking the door. “That’s fair. Are you going to tell her you think I should be able to help?”

“No. Because I don’t.” He opened the door. “Get out.”

+41

Sorry went over. My keyboard is being a real bitch lately and started to stick and not respond in the final scene. It does that when I type really fast these days, which is the whole point of flash fiction.

Sunday, September 7, 2024

Webber House: Jake’s Bedroom

Jake rolled over at the sound of Aiden’s voice and his bedroom door opening, blinking at the sunshine streaming through his shades. “What the hell—” Blearily, he snatched his phone from the nightstand. “It’s seven am, dude, you’re usually comatose—”

“Fell asleep playing games last night, and woke up when Discord pinged.” Aiden climbed onto the bed, carrying his laptop. “I was gonna just roll over, but then it kept happening—” He showed Jake the messages, and Jake winced. “Yeah, Cam’s not gonna wait until noon. He said if we don’t call right now, he’s gonna use the emergency credit card—”

“Fine. Fine. Call him—” Jake dragged his hands through his hair, then rubbed his eyes. “It’s the middle of the night there, what the hell is his problem—”

“My problem,” came Cameron’s annoyed voice when the call connected and his face appeared on Aiden’s screen, “is my brothers are assholes. What the hell, why did I find out from Tommy that Mom is in jail for murder?”

“We were going to tell you,” Aiden said. He elbowed Jake. “Right? Tell him the plan.”

Jake elbowed him back, then focused on the screen. “Look, even if we’d told you sooner, you’re not supposed to come home—”

“Mom was arrested for murder—”

“And she spent half the summer in the loony bin two summers ago and we managed to survive without you coming home,” Jake interrupted. Cameron closed his mouth, but the indignation in his blue eyes came through loud and clear. “Mom told you then, and she made it super clear now — you’re staying in California.”

“Murder, Jake. Mom is in jail for murder. Why am I the only one who seems to get that—”

“You come home and fuck up your senior year, the only murder Mom’s gonna commit is yours. You know how she feels about this.”

Cameron looked off camera, sighed, then focused on Jake. “I don’t want to be out here when you guys need me. When Mom needs me. And that doesn’t change the fact you should have told me when this happened.”

“We argued about telling you, but we figured we’d wait until the bail hearing to decide how serious this is.” Jake paused. “They transferred her into federal custody. I’m not really sure what the difference is between her being here at the PCPD or somewhere in Syracuse other than we can’t go see her. Her bail hearing got pushed to Wednesday.”

Cameron exhaled on a short breath. “Okay. Is Grandma Laura with you guys, or—”

“My dad’s staying at the house,” Jake said. “He’s handling it, I guess. Diane seems pretty confident she can get Mom home after the bail hearing. You can’t do anything here other than take up space and eat.”

“I could be at the hearing for Mom. I want to be—”

“I wish you were here,” Aiden admitted. “They’d let you go see Mom, right? Because you’re old enough, and you wouldn’t be a witness—”

“Then it’s settled—”

“It’s not. Cam. Mom was so upset when you deferred Stanford to stay home because of everything that was going on with Franco. And, like, with everything that’s going on, Diane came back from the jail yesterday, and the only thing Mom said was you need to stay at school. It’s the one thing she asked for.”

“Aw, man, don’t do that—”

“Cam, we got this.” Jake angled the laptop. “Look, we should have called you. You’re right to be pissed, and I’m sorry. But you can’t do anything here. We’ll tell Mom that you argued and wanted to come home, and that you stayed for her. It’ll make her happy. Don’t you want to make her happy?”

“I hate you.” Cameron was quiet for a long beat, then nodded. “Okay. Okay. I’ll stay here. For now. But you tell me what’s going on. We talk every day from now on, and tell Mom that I’m coming home next weekend. I won’t miss any classes. That’s the deal.”

“She can live with that. And hey, don’t use the card. Let me talk to my dad. He’ll get you a ticket or something.”

“I don’t want Jason to pay—”

“Don’t use the card, Cam. Dad won’t even notice the money’s gone. Believe me, I tell him you’re coming home next weekend, he’ll offer. Mom will never admit it, but she’ll be glad to see you. I’ll call you after I talk to him.”

“Fine. Now — tell me everything about this gun in Mom’s trunk. What the hell is going on?”

Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Sam sat crossed legged on the bed, scrolling through her news feed, grimacing at every shared article about the arrest, then looked up at Dante, sitting at the edge of the bed, pulling on shoes. “What are they saying at work? About the case?”

“Depends on who you ask.” Dante tied his sneakers, then shifted so that he was facing her. “But no one local thinks Elizabeth knew about the gun in her car. Or the murder. They all think the FBI went with murder charges to pressure the boys.”

Sam nodded, clicked on an article to skim it. “They think Jason did it.”

“Or that he knows who did it. The older guys — the ones who’ve dealt with Jason — they’re a little more skeptical. I guess they remember how he was with Sonny’s kids back in the day. Anna thinks Jason knows more than he’s saying, but she’s suspicious of everyone.” Dante paused, waited for her to look up. “What do you think?”

“He told me not to come back to the house or talk to him again without a lawyer,” Sam said, tossing the phone aside. “He’s pissed at me because I let Danny talk to the FBI.”

Dante sighed, then pushed himself to his feet, crossed to the dresser to look for his watch. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“I think Anna’s probably right. I think there’s a chance Jason knows something. He’s never been one to tell the whole story when he can avoid it. But—” she climbed out of bed. “I don’t see him involving the boys. Or Elizabeth. Look what he did to keep Carly out jail, right? I think if he knew something that would get her out of there, he’d have already volunteered it.” She folded her arms, picked at a loose thread from the curtain. “I think maybe I’ve…overreacted slightly with Danny.”

He lifted his brows. “You think?”

She scowled. “Okay, so I went way overboard. I just—” Sam wiggled her shoulders. “I’m seeing the same hero worship Spinelli had back in the day, you know? The sun rose and set by Jason for Spinelli, and he spent years following Jason around like a puppy. Even now, Spinelli doesn’t have to be talked into breaking the law for him—and don’t make that face, I know he’d do that for anyone. I just—I love Spinelli, but it’s hard to ignore that the people in Jason’s world take risks they don’t need to. Look at what Danny already did! He hid Jason, a fugitive the whole world was looking for because Jason asked him!”

“I’m not saying we don’t have to be careful, because I don’t want Danny taking those chances either. But Danny comes by that adrenaline rush addiction from both sides. You weren’t exactly a law-abiding citizen when you got involved with Jason.”

Sam scrunched up her face. “I know, but—”

“But. Danny and Jake are close. You and Elizabeth made sure of that. I know that was easier when Jason wasn’t around, though I’m not exactly sure why you need to compete with her now that he is. Danny wants to be there for his brother—”

“He just found a new argument to be closer to Jason,” Sam muttered, then sighed. “Fine. Fine. I’ll give Danny back his phone so he can talk to Jake.” Her phone pinged and she went to pick it up from the bed. “But I’m standing firm on Jason.”

“Baby steps,” Dante muttered, then turned to see her reading something on her phone. “Everything okay?”

“A text from Spinelli. He wants to meet later. I better go see if Danny’s up so I can give him the good news.”

Webber House: Living Room

Jason stepped back, letting Alexis cross the threshold. “Uh, hey, if this is about Sam or Danny—”

“Oh. No.” Alexis shook her head, nodding at Jake as he jogged down the steps. “No, should it be?”

Jason looked at Jake, then back at Alexis. “We can talk about it later—”

“I can go if you want to tell her that Sam is a raging bitch—”

“Jake,” Jason said, slightly exasperated, but his son just shrugged and headed into the kitchen. He looked back at Alexis. “Sam came by yesterday. I told her not to come back without a lawyer.”

“I…am not in the loop on that, but I’ll inquire.” Alexis folded her arms. “No, Diane asked me to stop by because she wanted to head down to Jamesville this morning, and I figured it would be better to talk about it in person. The Assistant U.S. Attorney has listed you and Jake as material witnesses, so neither of you can visit Elizabeth.”

“Diane warned us yesterday—” Jason began, but Alexis shook her head. “What?”

“He’s not letting anyone in to see her. Other than lawyer. Diane tried to get Laura, but Noah Reynolds refused. Diane would try to appeal it, but visitation doesn’t start until Thursday—”

“And Mom’s supposed to be home on Wednesday.” Jake rejoined them, a bottle of water in his hand. “But how come Grandma Laura can’t see her? She was in the house—”

“She’s your grandmother. No relatives of the material witnesses. I’m sorry. Diane knew this wasn’t good news—”

“No one’s been able to see or talk to her since Friday morning,” Jason interrupted. “This is why they took her out of the PCPD, isn’t it? Because they can control visitors in their own facility.”

“That’s…likely the case. You have to know, Diane is doing everything she can—”

“Hasn’t helped so far,” Jake muttered, heading for the stairs. “Getting really tired of hearing that.” His footsteps thudded up the stairs, and Jason looked back at Alexis.

“He knows they want him to change his story. Or Danny,” Jason added. “The FBI questioned him yesterday. Sam let them.”

Alexis made a face. “Probably because of Dante. They can make his life difficult at the PCPD if he’s seen obstructing investigations. It’s not an easy balance, Jason. Don’t judge her too harshly—”

“She came over here, Alexis, to scream at me about a situation she let happen, and then told Jake and Aiden Elizabeth was getting transferred.  None of us knew that, so that’s how they found out. I’m sorry Danny’s involved in this. But his mom’s at home. Jake and Aiden haven’t seen theirs in days and won’t even be able to talk to her on the phone. I don’t really care what Sam’s dealing with.”

“That is…” Alexis spread her hands out in front of her. “Entirely fair. Sam’s impulsiveness has been her Achilles heel since the day you and I met her. She’s just trying to protect her son—”

“From what? I haven’t done anything to him. I don’t want to argue with you, Alexis. Not about this. When Elizabeth gets home, when we’ve figured out who did this to her, I’ll deal with Sam. I’m done with being pushed out my son’s life. Make sure you tell her that.”

Jamesville, New York

 Jamesville Correctional Facility: Meeting Room

Diane rose from the table, smiling in relief when Elizabeth was led into the room, then scowled at the guard behind her. “Really? Shackles and cuffs? Where is she going?”

“She’s charged with a violent crime, ma’am. Policy is policy.” The guard withdrew, closing the door, and Diane looked at Elizabeth with exasperation.

“I am so sorry. I’ll talk to someone—”

“I don’t really care.” Elizabeth awkwardly slid into the seat, tired down to the bone. She hadn’t slept in more than fits and starts in the last two nights, and she’d seen no one but guards and cops since being booked — “They have me in protective custody.”

“Ah. To isolate you, I’m sure. They’ve refused visits and calls. I’m working on getting the calls overturned — those can be recorded, there’s no reason not to let your boys talk to you—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, shook her head. “I just want to go home. I don’t even—it’s Sunday, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Diane sat down, found her yellow legal pad, and picked up a pen. “You have three more nights until the hearing. I’ve done everything I can, but there’s no way to make it sooner. I want you to know I’ve seen Jake and Aiden, and they’re—well, they’re upset. I won’t lie. But they’re handling it. Jason’s with them.”

“I’m glad. I’m—” Her lips were so dry, and her throat burned. She fumbled for the glass of water and Diane helped her wrap her hands around it. “We should…if I can’t—if I can’t go home, we need to talk about paperwork. F-For Aiden. I want him to stay w-with J-Jake. For as long as possible.”

“That’s so far down the road, sweetheart—”

“Diane.” Elizabeth waited for the lawyer to meet her eyes. “This is important. My boys stay together. Jake’s graduating in June. And he’s going to Spain. He’ll get in that school, I know it. I’ll make him apply. Don’t let him miss the deadline. And once he leaves, if Aiden wants to be w-with Laura—”

Diane covered her hand. “If we have to have those conversations, Elizabeth, we’ll have them. I promise.  But right now, our goal is simple. We get you home, and we find out who’s trying to hurt you. Right now? Your boys are safe, they’re with Jason, and he’s got everything under control. You are the only priority for all of us. Getting you home and exonerated. Can we focus on that?”

“Yes. Yes. Sorry—”

“Don’t apologize. This is happening to you, and you’re entitled to handle it however you like. First, I want you to know that I’ve directed Spinelli to start an official investigation in his role as a licensed PI. We need to get evidence that follows chain of custody of rules and can be legally admissible. I want to know who did this, but it does me  no good to not be able to use that information in court to get you home.” Diane tapped her pen against the pad. “I also told Jason that while he might be inclined to go punch some people for answers, he can’t do that. He can’t be involved in any way.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth let out a short breath that felt almost like a laugh. “Oh, he must hate that.”

“He’s handling it. He’s a man who likes a mission, and I gave him one. The boys. Now I’ll give you one.” She leaned forward. “Tell me everything that happened from the moment you heard those gunshots until the arrest. Leave nothing out.”

Elm Street

 Jake dragged a trashcan out to the curb, almost relieved to have a reason to leave the house, even if it was just for a short chore. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, surprised to see Danny’s name on the screen.

got my phone back u ok?

 had to force cam to stay in cali but ok. ur mom said fbi came u good

 he thinks were lying kept arguing wit me u lucky dad wont let him near u

Jake started to type back in agreement, and then saw something out of the corner of his eye. A dark SUV. He lifted his head and saw a pair of men in suits coming out of the neighbor’s house. His neighbor, an older guy who had paid Jake to shovel his sidewalk last winter, saw Jake, grimaced, then stepped back inside, closed his door.

Jake  blinked, then looked to his side – a few doors down, he saw another pair of suits walking up to a door, knocking. One of them looked over at Jake, smirked, then went inside the house.

He exhaled slowly, looked back at his phone. fbi here talkin to neighbors they really don’t believe us

Nothing came back for a minute, maybe two. Then Danny’s response.

do you think they know something we dont

Jake wanted to say no, wanted to defend their dad because he knew, he knew his father hadn’t pulled the trigger—but—

That didn’t mean he didn’t know something.

i dont know maybe.

+35

Written in 57 minutes.

Saturday, September 6, 2024

Webber House: Front Entrance

 The door didn’t even close behind Sam before Jason had charged after her, snagging the edge then slamming it closed behind him, preventing either Jake or Aiden from following him.

“Sam. Stop.”

Sam turned at the end of the front walk, sneering. “If you think you can change my mind—”

“The next time you want to talk to me, call Diane.”

The sneer was placed with complete shock. “Excuse me?”

“I’m done with whatever this is,” Jason retorted. “I’m sorry the FBI came to question Danny. But as long as you didn’t let him say anything, I don’t see how that’s my—” He stopped, shook his head. “You let the FBI question him, didn’t you? Just to spite me—”

“Children of criminals need lawyers, Jason, not innocent people—”

Jason sliced a hand through the air. “You’re not that stupid, Sam. Innocent people end up in jail all the time. Look where Elizabeth is! She didn’t do a damn thing—”

“Except keep you in her life,” Sam spat. “They know she didn’t do this! They’re not trying to break her alibi, they’re going after your sons! But because she lets you around, someone decided to plant a gun in her car so you’d be tied to this! You wanna blame someone, Jason, look in the mirror!”

“I’m not letting you turn this around on me. You probably insisted Danny talk to the feds, and he’s probably pissed at you now, so you’re making it my problem. Your mother would be the first to tell you that you were stupid, but as long as you’re doing the opposite of what I wanted, you don’t give a damn, do you? Because that’s all that matters, isn’t? Going against me. But you’re done coming around Jake, you’re done making ithis problem. His mother is in jail, Sam. And he just found out she’s heading into federal custody. If you’re lying about that—” His phone buzzed and he snatched it out of his pocket, impatient. When he saw Diane, his stomach dropped.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know,” Sam said with a roll of her eyes. She folded her arms. “How could you not—”

“Shut up,” Jason ordered, answering the phone. “Diane?”

“Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t see this coming, but the feds are having Elizabeth transformed—” There was a blare of a horn, and Diane’s voice sounded far away. “If you’d get your head out of your ass—”

“Diane!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m on my way now, and we’ll figure this out. But she’s being taken to a federal holding facility near Syracuse. I’ll tell you everything when I get there.” Her end of the line went dead, and Jason stared at the phone in his hand, willing her to come back, for someone to call and say that this was a giant mistake. That someone was playing a trick, and he’d wake up and it’d be Friday again. He exhaled slowly, then looked up to find Sam watching him. “They’re taking her to somewhere near Syracuse.”

“You really didn’t know.” Sam pressed his lips together, looked at the house. “They didn’t know—”

“Why should that matter?” Jason demanded, and she dropped her eyes to the ground. “If they knew, if they didn’t—you’re attacking me, you’re attacking them—I’m done playing games, Sam. Danny’s my son, and I have a right to be with him. Don’t make me take you to court—”

“Don’t you think Diane has better things to do?” Sam tossed back. “Someone’s got to get Elizabeth home before Carly gets a hangnail and you run off to take care of her again!”

“I’ll find a different lawyer. Someone whose only job is to make your life as miserable as you’ve made mine. Get out of here, Sam. And don’t come back.”

“Go ahead. Take me to court, Jason. I know where all the bodies are buried—”

“And so do I. Maybe I’ll give Amelia Joffe a call.”

Sam’s face went white. “You wouldn’t. Jake would—” She swallowed, looked to the house, then back at him. “How would you ever explain this to Jake?”

“That would be my problem, not yours.” He lifted his brows. “There’s no statute of limitations on kidnapping, Sam. You want to keep making threats or do you want leave?”

“This isn’t over,” she bit out, then stalked down the curb, towards her car. Jason rubbed the side of his face. Christ, if she called his bluff—would he really drag all that back up? How could he ever explain to Jake his decision to forgive her?

His mistake to believe they’d turned the page, and that she’d accepted the reality of Jake. She’d never forgotten or forgiven him. And he never should have tried to find something buried in the rubble of their relationship.

He stared down at his phone, at the call log with Diane’s name. Elizabeth was being transferred out of the PCPD, out of local lock-up, and into federal custody. Why would they go to all that trouble if Diane was likely to win at the bail hearing?

What if he couldn’t get her home in a few days? What if he couldn’t get her home at all?

Penthouse: Living Room

Kristina flashed a hesitant smile at her brother, edging around him at the door, finding Danny slouched on the sofa, his arms folded, his chin down at his chest. “Uh, oh. Trouble?”

“Aunt Kristina, can I have your phone?” Danny asked, brightening when he saw her. He hurried to his feet, almost stumbling over them. “I need to text Jake. I need to talk to him—”

“What’s going on? Where’s Sam?” Kristina asked. “Did something happen?”

“Hard to know where to start.” Dante closed the door, then rubbed his index finger against his temple. “Sam has Danny on phone restriction.”

“Complete lockout. Not even the Switch.” Sensing his aunt wouldn’t be much help, he flopped back on the sofa. “And Dante says he can’t go over her head.”

“Your mom make the rules for you, buddy. I said I’d talk to her, but—” Dante went over to the sofa, nudged Danny with his knee. “You gotta cut the attitude—”

“She started it. She always starts it. She’s acting crazy, Dante.”

“Uh, oh.” Kristina sat  her purse on the desk, leaned against it. “What do you need to say to Jake? Maybe I could pass on a message or something.”

“I just wanna talk to him. Be there, you know?” Danny sat up. “I dunno. See if the feds came to talk to him this morning, too. His mom got arrested last night.”

“I heard. It’s insane. Why would they think Elizabeth would have anything to do with this?” Kristina asked Dante. “Mom said there was a gun, but it’s gotta be a mistake.”

“I don’t know much more than anyone else. The Feds have this on lockdown.” Dante shook his head. “And it just keeps getting worse. They’re moving Elizabeth to federal custody — out of the PCPD. So the odds of anyone even talking to her before the bail hearing are pretty much zero. Aiden’s too young, and Jake and Jason would probably be material witnesses.”

“See? This is why I need to talk to my brother—”

“I said I’d talk to her,” Dante said, shifting his attention back to Danny, leaving Kristina to consider this new development. There was always the risk that Elizabeth might think about her visit the day after the shooting, but if she was being held in a federal jail? With no one to talk to, and her only thought was getting home, that might work in Kristina’s favor. Diane would be too busy working on the bail hearing—

By the time Elizabeth came home—if she did—Jason might feel desperate enough to confess.   This was coming together even better than she could have planned. It was a shame Elizabeth had to be involved or her sons would be hurt, but really, Kristina thought, they should have known better than to let Jason come around.

Just like Sam had always said — this kind of thing just followed Jason. And anyone who chose to stand next to him paid the price.

Webber House: Front Entrance

Jason rested one hand on the top of the black garbage can by the front entrance, trying to put his thoughts together. He had to go back in that house to tell Jake and Aiden that their mom was going to be even further away, and they’d have to talk about how to tell Cameron — and how to keep him from taking the first plane home.

How did he even begin to have this conversation? He hadn’t a damn thing to do with the murder, but the consequences of being Jason Morgan were still raining down on everyone around him. His son had been interrogated by the FBI, Jake was probably next to be pressured, Elizabeth was in custody, with no hope of seeing or talking to her for days—

“Jase?”

He straightened, opened his eyes to see Carly stepping into view. “Carly. What—what are you doing here?”

“Are you kidding? I would have come sooner if I thought I could help.” She stepped up, hugged him tightly. “Joss is upset. She’s worried about Cam in California, but doesn’t feel like she can reach out—I told her and Trina to hold off—” Carly stepped back, searched his eyes. “Was that wrong? Should they—”

“We haven’t called him yet. I was hoping—” Jason shook his head. “I was hoping we would have better news. But we don’t. They’re putting her in a federal custody, Carly. She’s already—she’s already gone. And there’s no bail until Wednesday.”

“Wednesday—but—but there are laws—aren’t there laws?”

“State. Federal is—they can get away with a lot more,” he bit out. He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t get her out of there.”

“No, not if she wants to come back here to her life, I guess not. But Diane’s got the magic touch— and you’ll find out who did this—you probably already know something—”

“I don’t know anything,” he cut in sharply, and she closed her mouth. “Diane said to hold off. To not do anything. I can’t—I can’t start asking questions. I can’t do anything that screws up bail. Or makes this worse—and if I found evidence, they might not be able to use it—”

“She’s not wrong, Jase,” Carly said softly, and he sighed. “This isn’t the PCPD you’re dealing with who doesn’t always ask questions. It’s not Anna who you can talk to. It’s not Dante. It’s strangers. Elizabeth’s in the system. I know what that’s like. I know you got into Ferncliff, and you got me out, but oh, if we’d done a better investigation, if I’d just listened to Diane—” She took a deep breath. “She’s right. The evidence has to be perfect if the Feds are going to be forced to admit they made a mistake.”

“I know. I just—I hate it.”

“I know. But you know Elizabeth would want you here with the boys. How are they? What can I do? Dinner? Breakfast? I can have food brought over.”

“I don’t—” Jason stopped when Diane’s car pulled up behind his SUV at the curb, and she hurried out. Her hair wasn’t carefully styled, and she wore an old sweater and jeans. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her without makeup—

“Jason. Good. Good.” Diane reached them, took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. I got tipped off too late to do anything—but the time I got to the PCPD, the papers had been processed—”

“How does that happen?” Jason demanded. “Don’t they have to tell you?”

“No. They don’t. I—” She closed her eyes, swayed slightly, and Carly reached out, touched her shoulder. “I need to sit down. I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well.”

“Come in. I need to talk to the boys. We—we found out before you called. But you gave us the confirmation.”

“How did you find out?” Diane wanted to know, following Jason into the house. “If you knew—”

Jake jumped up as soon as Diane came in the house. “Sam said my mom’s in a federal jail! It’s not true, is it?”

Diane stopped, her eyes widening, then she looked at Jason. “How does Sam know?”

“Caldwell went to her place this morning to question Danny. He probably said something to her. And she let Danny talk to him.”

Diane scowled. “Are you kidding me? Is she trying to make my life worse? God, I’ll call Alexis and have her to talk to her, talk some sense into her—”

Carly looked like she wanted to contribute something, but closed her mouth and went to check on Aiden, look around the house. They’d done a decent job of putting it back in order, but it wasn’t all the way back. “Search warrant, huh?” she said to Elizabeth’s youngest son.

“You can tell?”

“Yeah, not my first rodeo.”

“Diane, forget about Sam for right now. Dante was probably there, so I’m sure it was fine. I just—” Jason put up his hands. “Tell me what you know.”

“Not a lot. They’re transferring her to Jamesville Correctional Facility, about eight miles from Syracuse. Thanks to how late they filed the arrest and this transfer, they’ve been able to put off the bail hearing until Wednesday.”

“That’s not fair!” Aiden cried. “She didn’t do anything!”

“Can we go see her, talk to her?” Jake wanted to know. “We were supposed to see her today—”

“Jamesville only allows visitors Thursday through Sunday, and she wouldn’t even be allowed visitors until tomorrow.” Diane looked vaguely ill. “But I don’t think you’ll be able to get in. Aiden’s too young—”

“I am not!”

“And Jake and Jason are witnesses. Even if I were present, it wouldn’t preserve privilege. They’d claim she’s trying to intimidate one of you into changing your story or telling the same story—in short, I’d be very surprised if I got either of you in. Anyone in, really,” Diane admitted when Carly lifted her brows.

“What do we do now?” Jake asked when the room fell silent for a moment. “I mean—we had a plan. We were supposed to see her and now we can’t, and—” he looked from his dad to Diane. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Look after each other. Keep your brother in California — a direct order from your mother,” Diane added. “And Jason—” She looked at him. “Hold down the fort here.”

“Diane—”

“I know we’re all asking the question—how the hell did that gun get in her car—and while we can’t really start digging in until I get Elizabeth alone for a few hours — hopefully tomorrow — I think the feds have made a mistake. They shouldn’t have given me more time before the hearing.” Diane lifted her chin. “And they’ve pissed me off, so believe me, Jason, I am making it a personal mission to bring Elizabeth home.”

“Diane, you can’t expect Jason to sit here and do nothing. You know better,” Carly said, and Diane nodded.

“I do. I’m not saying you can be involved in any evidence gathering, but since my favorite PI is also an honorary member of your family, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give Spinelli the call now and start digging. Though—” Diane hesitated. “He is partners with Sam—”

“She can’t be involved,” Jason said flatly. “I’ll make sure he knows. I’ll call him now.” Grateful to have something to do, even something so small, he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Whatever has to be done, Diane. I’m not letting her stay in jail one more day after Wednesday.”

+35