Written in 66 minutes.

Saturday, September 13, 2024

Penthouse: Living Room

“She’s going to say no,” Sam muttered, dropping on the sofa next to Dante, trying very hard not to peek over his shoulder at the file he was reading.

“You can live with that,” Dante responded, almost absently. He made a notation. “You gave it your best shot. If Danny wants to know, you can say you tried.”

“And then tell him that his father doesn’t trust me enough to help? That Jake’s mom hates me? I’d rather eat glass.” She folded her legs, reached for her phone. Maybe scrolling her social media feet would get her mind off all of this — but it was just filled with news about the case — including coverage of the DA’s decision to open their own investigation.

“I know Molly believes in what she’s doing, and I know you’re on board, too. I’m glad, by the way, that you and Chase got assigned,” Sam added, and Dante sighed, put the file aside to look at her.

“But?”

“But I’m worried about her. Burying herself in something to forget about everything else that’s going on. So she doesn’t have to think about the baby, about how bad things are with Kristina, or the charges against Ava moving forward—” Sam paused. “She’s going to get to the end of all of this, look around, and it’s not going to have changed anything. It’s—it’s still going to be there.”

“I get that, and I’m worried about both of them. Kristina feels so closed off right now—and I realized something just now, listening to you—” Dante waited for Sam to meet his gaze. “Neither one of us call the baby by her name. We’re both defaulting to generic terms. Daughter, baby, loss—”

Sam pressed her lips together. “I’m afraid to use Irene around Kristina. It makes her so angry, and I don’t want to start another fight. But I don’t want to call her Adela because it’s not her name. And I don’t want to make a mistake with Molly, who doesn’t deserve any of this.” She flicked some screens. “Maybe I should try to talk to Krissy again. We should invite her over tonight. Dinner and movies with the kids—Scout can cheer up anyone.”

“That sounds like a good idea—” Dante stopped when they heard thudding footsteps above them, and then thundering down the steps. “Here comes trouble,” he quipped when Danny and Rocco came into view. “What do you think about movie night and inviting Aunt Kristina?”

“Uh—we were actually gonna ask for another kind of family night.” Rocco held up his phone. “Aiden asked us to hang out tonight. He wants to give his mom time with Cam, so he figured maybe a gaming marathon or something.”

“Unless you don’t want me over Aiden’s house because his mom’s a criminal,” Danny said before either Sam or Dante could respond.

Sam pressed her lips together. “She’s not a criminal, and that—fine. Fine. It’s fine with me. Dante?”

“Yeah, you guys would just depress your aunt anyway. You want me to drop you guys off, or—”

“Yeah, sure. Around six?” Rocco asked.

“Sounds good.” Dante looked at Sam. “After I drop them off, I’ll swing by Kristina’s place, pick her up.”

“If she even agrees to come,” Sam muttered, but selected Kristina’s number and lifted the phone to her ear.

Upstairs, Danny and Rocco reached the first room in the hallway—Rocco’s and slapped each other’s hands.

“What’d I say?” Danny said with a broad grin. “Do I know how to push Mom’s buttons or what?”

“I bow before the master. Text Aiden. Tell him the game’s on.”

“What do we do if Dante tries to come in?” Danny asked, his fingers flying over the screen.

“You heard him. He’s gonna pick up my aunt. It’s a tuck and roll situation, and plus, he’s not gonna wanna talk to Aunt Liz since he’s investigating her case, and it’s like, she’s got a lawyer.” Rocco nodded. “Yeah, that’s what we’ll go with if he tries to come in. We saw it on TikTok or something. Dad’s a stickler, he’ll eat it right up.”

“Man, they make it too easy,” Danny said, snickering. He sent the text. “And we are ready.”

Bobbie’s: Dining Room

“Well, there you are, stranger!”

Jason winced as he turned around to see Carly striding out of the kitchen with a clipboard in her hand. “Hey. I haven’t seen you around here in a while.” Had orchestrated the purchase of an entire hotel to divert her attention. Should have known it wouldn’t last.

“Just some inventory management. If you’re not on your way somewhere, maybe we could grab a table, catch up?”

“Uh, yeah, okay.” Jason followed her to an empty one near the back. “Sorry, I know you called a few times since the hearing—”

“You’ve had a ton on your plate this last week,” Carly said. She smiled at a waitress who approached them. When they’d both placed orders for coffee, she turned back to Jason. “And I know that doesn’t go away because Elizabeth is out on bail. This third party custodian thing, that seems like a lot.”

“Not really.”

Carly waited, but when it was clear he didn’t intend to follow that statement up with any details, she made a face. “Jason, I’d like us to be friends.”

He furrowed his brow. “We are.”

“Yeah, but it’s like a hostage situation, and I’m tired of negotiating. Especially since I’m the hostage taker.” She leaned forward. “You know, Michael’s all grown up now. You don’t have to keep me around to stay close to him.”

Jason sighed, rubbed his face. “Carly, what do you want?”

“I want to know what’s going on. How I can help — with your approval — how you’re doing — what kind of stress you’re under — because we both know you’re not going to tell anyone else. Jason—” She lowered her voice. “Please tell me you know that the FBI doesn’t actually think Elizabeth is the bad guy. They’re after you!”

“Yeah, Carly, that had occurred to me. But I’m innocent, so I don’t really have to worry—”

“Elizabeth’s innocent, too, and she’s wearing an ankle monitor, so bite me.” Carly leaned back while the waitress poured their coffees. When they were alone again, she continued, “Jason, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t have any issues with Elizabeth anymore.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“It’s true this time. It is,” Carly insisted. “Our kids dated for over a year, and Joss — she really did a number on Cam when they broke up. Joss and her guy now—well, they didn’t exactly wait.” Her lips thinned, and she spooned sugar into her cup. “Like mother, like daughter.”

“Carly.”

“Elizabeth has never said one unkind word about Joss. Or to her. We both know I wouldn’t have been as gracious. I don’t know, maybe she’s grateful we’re not going to be related, but—” Carly looked around the diner, and her voice thickened just a bit. “She loved my mother, you know? I forgot how close they were. How much my mom loved her, too. She’d be horrified at what Elizabeth is dealing with, and she’d be leading the charge to fight. I want to—I want to do good in this world, the way my mother did. I want to help.”

Jason sipped his coffee, took a deep breath. “I hear you, Carly. And I believe you. Having you at the hearing — Joss and Michael, too. That meant a lot. To have people on her side. I’m sure it didn’t go unnoticed by the judge.”

“Michael gets to do battle with the courts over access to the property, and Molly and Dante get to fight the FBI and find the real killer—let me help. Even if it’s just to listen. I can do that, I promise.” Carly drew a line across her chest, then another in the opposite direction. “Cross my heart.”

“Right now,” Jason said, considering his words, “things seem under control. They didn’t earlier this week. When the FBI at Jake’s school. He thought I knew something.” He looked away, took a deep breath. “He confronted me, and I had to tell him I didn’t know anything that would bring his mother home. He…” Jason looked down in his cup. “He cried.”

“That poor baby. Everything he’s been through in his life, you know? And the hits just keep coming. I’m sorry he didn’t trust you, Jason. That must have been painful.”

“I’m not surprised—”

“Neither am I,” Carly cut in. She reached across the table, covered his hand. “But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. You made choices, Jason. Ones you know I hate. Ones that took you away from your boys, and you don’t get to wave that away. This isn’t like the last time when someone took you. You chose to stay away.”

“I told you why—”

“And if you’d asked me or Sonny or your sons what they’d prefer, it would have been to have you at home, even if I ended up in jail and we all ended up broke and on the streets. We’re smart, resourceful, and we’d have figured it out. I would have rather lost everything, including my own freedom instead of having another funeral for you.”

Jason dropped his gaze. “You know, I told Elizabeth and she was the only one who wasn’t angry at me.”

“Oh, well—of course—” Carly snorted, swiping at her eyes. “When we talk about martyrs, you know no one does it better than she does. You both love to make a sacrifice and pat yourself on the back when nobody asked for it in the first place.”

Jason lifted his coffee cup, squinted. “You know what? Just for that — Elizabeth and I are seeing other again.”

“You think that’s going to ruin my day? Please. Tell me something I didn’t already know.” Carly balled up a napkin and threw it at him. “Just don’t play musical chairs with her and Sam again. I’m too old for that crap.”

Webber House: Kitchen

“You know, you can let me do one thing,” Elizabeth said when Jake took her by the shoulders and gently steered her back to the entrance of the kitchen. “Aiden made breakfast—”

“Jake is clearing down, and I’m doing the dishes. You’re doing nothing.” Cameron nodded at Aiden. “Make her a hot chocolate or something. With sprinkles and whipped cream.”

“On it—”

“Cam—” Elizabeth leaned against the door frame, just watching her boys make themselves busy in the kitchen. She hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d come home the night before — having all three of her kids under one roof for the first time in a month was almost worth the horrible situation she was facing. “When you’re done in here—thank you, baby—” she took the mug from Aiden, “come in the living room. I want to talk about the next few weeks.”

When they’d gathered on the sofa, Liz in the middle of the sofa, Cameron in the arm, Jake to her left, and Aiden on the right, she took a minute to just enjoy the picture — because it wouldn’t be long before Cameron moved out of the house officially or Jake was off to college—she’d had them to herself all their lives, and now she was being forced to share them with the world. The best and worst part of motherhood, she thought.

“All right.” Elizabeth set her mug down. “Let’s talk about about what happens for a few weeks. Spinelli is investigating the case — and he’s focusing on exonerating me. I trust him with my life, and he’ll want to talk to both of you,” she said, directing that to Jake and Aiden. “Molly opened up the case with the DA’s office, and I imagine Chase and Dante will also want to talk to you.”

“Do we talk to them without Diane?” Jake asked. “I mean, I guess they’re the good guys, but—”

“I want you to do whatever you’re comfortable with. I trust them, but it’s not a bad idea to have her present just to be safe, and to be consistent. I’m going back to work on Monday, and other than that — everything is going to be normal.”

“Normal? Mom, you’re charged with a murder you didn’t commit—” Aiden protested. “How can we be normal?”

“The same way you went to school four out of five days this week. I’m innocent, Aiden, and I love my job, and I want you to live your lives. Someone wants to hurt me, and I won’t let them do it.”

Jake nodded. “Okay, so we’re normal and all, but what happens if Dante and Spinelli and everyone can’t fix it. What if—” He looked down at his hands. “What if you go to jail again? And this time, you can’t come home?”

“If I’m—if it goes to trial and I’m convicted, I’ve already talked to your dad. He knows the plan, and we’re signing paperwork this week. He’ll have guardianship of you,” she said to Aiden, touching his shoulder. “Because I want you and Jake to be together. I want you to stay in this house where you’ve grown up.  Cam—” she looked at her eldest, who had remained silent. “You’re finishing Stanford. Period.”

“And I’m coming home to attend to medical school. I already applied, and I’m a Hardy-Webber with Quartermaine adjacent connections. We already know I’m in.” Cameron looked at her. “I’m finishing Stanford and coming home. Period.”

Elizabeth furrowed her brow, then sighed. “That’s a fight for another day, but all right.” She looked at Jake. “You’re going to apply to Spain, and when you get in, you’re going—”

“Mom—”

“You’re going,” Elizabeth repeated. “Jason will come live here with Aiden, all three of you will have your home just as it’s always been. Someone’s trying to hurt me, and they might—they might get away with it for a little while. But they’re not going to derail the dreams I have for you, the ones you have for yourself. Aiden—” She looked at him. “If you’d rather live with your grandmother or—your dad—”

“Do you think he’d be able to recognize me?” Aiden said. He shook his head. “No, I want to be here with Jake, and Jason’s cool. But none of this matters, Mom, because you’re not going to jail. They’re gonna figure this out.”

“Right. We’re talking about something that is probably not an issue.” Elizabeth squeezed Jake’s knee. “Right, honey?”

“But if you do, we keep fighting, right? We appeal and we’ll do whatever we have to,” Jake said. “Because if you end up convicted for this bullshit, I think I speak for all of us — and Dad. We’ll have a new dream, and it’ll be getting you the hell out of there and back where you belong with us.”

Her eyes watered and she took a deep breath. “We’ll argue about that later if we have to. I love you. All of you.” She turned to Aiden, touched his shoulder, then reached for Cameron’s hand. “My entire world. Three of you.”

“I’m on board with all your plans, and here’s one I’m adding. Every other Friday, I come home,” he said. When Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, he shook his head. “Don’t argue with me, Mom. I already talked it over with Jason. He’s gonna front me the money for the tickets, and I’ll pay him back after I’m done paying for medical school. It’ll be like forty years, but we’ve got a plan.”

Elizabeth hesitated, then gathered herself. “I won’t argue with something that’s obviously out of my hands, and seeing more of you is always good. We’re going to get this, guys. This isn’t our first crisis—”

“Won’t be the last,” Cameron added. “But we’re here, Mom. Until the wheels fall off.”

TJ & Molly’s Apartment: Living Room

TJ gingerly pushed the stack of files to the side and set down the bowls of soup before taking a seat across from Molly — who didn’t look up from her work. “Mols, before it gets cold?”

“I’m not hungry—”

“Molly.”

She recognized the tone, set down her pencil and looked up, apologetic. “I’m sorry, it’s your first night off in days, and I’m buried in work, and you hate when I bring it home—”

“I know this isn’t different. And hey, we want Liz back at the hospital, pronto. Place isn’t the same without her. But you gotta take time for yourself. For us,” he added, and she nodded.

She reached for the bowl, picked up the spoon. “I know I haven’t exactly been great with all of this.”

“What’s all of this?” TJ asked. “What exactly are you apologizing for?”

She bit her lip. “I don’t know. Since we lost Irene. Since the funeral, since—” Molly toyed with the corner of the paper. “I know I’m working more than usual, and you are, too. I know we’re both pretending everything is…that we’re fine. I just—I don’t know what else to do. I can’t sit with myself. Or my thoughts for very long. I need—I just need to think about anything else. I’m sorry.”

“I get it. I do. Like you said, I’m doing the same thing, Mol. We’re both hoping that we’ll stop, look up, and it’s all better, right?” TJ tipped his head. “And what you’re doing, it’s brave and it’s amazing, and I’m so proud of you. Don’t think I’m not. But none of this goes away, and when we clock out of work — it’s all still there. That —” He looked towards the hallway, leading to the bedroom — and the nursery. “That room is still empty. And your sister is still…”

“Still Kristina. And she’ll never change. So I’ll have to.” Molly spooned more of the soup. “I don’t know how to fix any of that, TJ.”

“Me either, so tonight — we’ll have our soup, you can finish your report, I’ll catch up on my medical journal, and then we’ll do a movie. We’ll be okay, Mols. We always make it through.”

Elm Street: Sidewalk

Dante leaned across the passenger side, his hand on the open window. “Don’t give Liz any trouble, you hear me?”

“Dad—” Rocco turned back to flash him another grin. “Don’t worry. Aunt Liz won’t even know we’re here.  Tell Aunt Krissy I love her.”

“I will.”

Dante’s headlights disappeared as he turned the corner, and Aiden jogged up to them. “You guys gotta hurry before either of my brothers see you,” he said. He held out his hands. “Gimme your phones.”

Danny slapped his phone down, and Rocco handed his over. “You’re the best,” he told Aiden. “And in a few weeks, when you’re mom’s cleared, we’ll owe you big time.”

“Yeah, yeah, just get out of here.”

Danny saluted him, and then he and Rocco sprinted across the street, disappearing up the block.

Aiden shoved both phones in his pocket, then headed back inside for movie night with his mother.

+35

Written in 65 minutes.

Friday, September 12, 2024

General Hospital: Nurse’s Station

Amy Driscoll had dodged and evaded every attempt Dante and Chase had made to talk to her for nearly twenty-four hours, not returning voicemails, always just being called away to a patient when they’d come to the hospital the day before —

“Starting to think maybe she did leave the tip,” Chase said with a wrinkle of his nose as he and Dante exited the elevator. “Why would she avoid us otherwise?”

“I’d agree with you, except I survived the Man Landers debacle, and I’m telling you — Amy isn’t involved. She probably thinks we’re calling about a parking ticket.”

“Man Landers?” Chase asked, furrowing his brow. “Do I want to know?”

“No,” Dante said shortly, then sighed when Amy, standing behind the computer terminal, met his gaze, actually did a double take and started to hurry in the opposite direction. “That’s it, I’m tackling her.” He sprinted after her, then skidded to a stop in front of a patient’s room. “No. Today, we’re talking—”

“Oh, but I just have to—”

“No.” Dante spied Felix DuBois passing and snagged his arm. “Felix, finish whatever Amy’s supposed to do. She needs to have a conversation with us.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Interest gleamed in Felix’s brown eyes, always looking for some gossip. “Is she under arrest?”

A sound emitted from Amy that sounded suspiciously like a squeak, but Dante scowled. “No, but if she keeps finding reasons not to talk to us, I might change my mind. Amy—let’s go.”

“Oh, but—”  she sighed, then followed him around the corner to a conference room. “I should have known you’d hunt me down like a dog. Oh, God, that’s a horrible joke. I’m so sorry. I am. I called the number on the tag, I took the dog to the vet, they said he’d be okay—”

“Amy, for the love of God—” Dante held up a hand. “What are you talking about?”

Amy’s blue eyes rounded with surprise. “The dog I hit last week on Elm Street. It was an accident! I paid for it and everything! Please don’t arrest me.”

“The fact that you passed organic chemistry and still zero common—” Dante stopped, took a deep breath. “I don’t know anything about a damn dog. I’m calling you about this.” He nodded to Chase who held out his phone, and the recording played.

“Hello. I have a tip about the murder of that FBI guy. The one on Labor Day. I’m a nurse at GH, and I overheard my supervisor, Elizabeth Webber, talking with that mob guy she’s always with. Jason Morgan. She said that he didn’t need to worry. No one was ever gonna look in her trunk, and when the smoke died down, he could get rid of the gun.”

Amy frowned. “That’s my voice.”

“I know,” said Dante. “Now explain what the hell this message is.”

“That’s my voice,” Amy repeated, “but I never—I never said any of that, and that did not happen, and I’m not just saying that because Morgan could break me in half with, like, a flick of his wrist. I would never snitch on Elizabeth, she’s way too nice to me—I mean, I probably would if I overheard her talking about a murder weapon—”

“Amy—” Dante held up a hand, and she stopped. “You’re telling me you didn’t make this call.”

“No.”

“And the contents of this message — you never heard Elizabeth and Jason having this conversation?”

“No.” Amy shook her head. “Liz and I don’t even work the same shifts — and I haven’t seen her in ages. Well, I guess that’s because she was in jail, which is insane. Can you imagine believing she shot a man in cold blood? I mean, not that she’s not capable of murder. I bet if you threatened one of her boys, she’d be able to do it, but—right, I’ll shut up,” she said before Dante could get the words out.

“Last question. Did you work last Wednesday at all?”

“No. I went to the movies with my brother Yuri. Am I under suspicion or something?”

“Not anymore. You can go, and uh, nice job paying for that dog,” Dante said as she scooted to the door. “I’m glad it’ll be okay.”

“Me, too.”

When she left, Dante looked at Chase with lifted brows. “Well?”

Chase sat on the edge of the conference table, folded his arms. “We have two audio files in this case. Both of which are very incriminating. So incriminating, I can hardly believe that someone with Jason Morgan’s criminal history would ever make these kinds of mistakes. Especially when he’s on scene when the murder is reported. But I’m supposed to believe he left a voicemail telling Cates the time and location of the meeting, and dropped information about a deal that no one else has heard about. Then he set up an alibi, using his teenaged sons so that his nephew and ex-girlfriend could carry out the murder of an FBI agent. And then he’s stupid enough to talk about the murder, the location of the murder weapon with the ex the next day at her very public work place.”

“Do we think that’s the FBI’s theory?” Dante asked.

“I don’t know. That’s the case they’re giving the court, especially now that the first voicemail has been turned over to us and to Diane Miller. Otherwise, you can’t tie Elizabeth to the murder other than an accessory after the fact.” Chase exhaled slowly. “But let’s forget about the FBI. Their case is awful, and Diane is going to murder them. What we have is someone making sure the FBI or the investigation focuses on Jason. First by making it clear Jason lured Cates to the crime scene, and then tying him to the murder weapon through Elizabeth’s car. Someone is setting Jason up for the murder. They either didn’t figure Elizabeth would get the murder charge, or they did — and they’re expecting Jason to do something about it.”

“Now that’s interesting—” Dante lifted his brows. “Because Jason has plead guilty to a crime before — when Michael did a short stint in prison back in 2010. And then playing FBI informant for two years to protect Carly from RICO charges.”

“So whoever is setting Jason up expects him to eventually fall on the sword for Elizabeth.” Chase got to his feet. “So we need to focus on someone who hated John Cates enough to kill him, and who hated Jason enough not to care who else got hurt.”

ELQ: Michael’s Office

“Knock, knock—” Kristina rapped on Michael’s ajar door, smiling when her brother got up from his desk, and came around to hug her. “Hey. I came to see if you wanted to do something this weekend. I feel like we haven’t hung out one on one in forever.”

Michael squeezed her hard, then stepped back. “I’ll check with Willow. Her work schedule has been a little rough this week — she’s picking up a few shifts from Elizabeth.”

“Oh. I didn’t—” Kristina hesitated. “I guess I didn’t think about how that would work. I mean, she’s out on bail, right? Is she on house arrest, or—”

“City limits, so she can go back to work. But I think they wanted to give her a few days. I didn’t get to see her,” Michael said, heading to mini fridge. “You want a water, or something?”

“Yeah, sure.” She caught the bottle he tossed at her. “I thought you went to court.”

“Yeah, but she was on a screen. It wasn’t really the same, and I wanted to give her and Jason some time with the boys. They’ve been through hell this week, with the FBI coming down hard on Jake and Danny.” Michael twisted off the cap, took a drink. “I think she’s going back on Monday.”

“Good. Good. Normalcy, that will help. And of course, Diane and Spinelli will work their magic.” Kristina sat down on the sofa in seating area. “I wanted to talk to you about Molly.”

Michael grimaced. “I don’t want to get in the middle of that—” He sat next to her.

“And I wouldn’t ask you to. I wouldn’t. You—you’ve got so much on your plate.” She reached out, squeezed his hand. “Molly and I will—we’ll figure out a way to get around this—”

“Krissy—” Michael paused, then shook his head. “Never mind.”

“No, say it. What did you want to say?” She tensed.

“You and Molly aren’t going to get around this. Not until you find a way to make peace with the fact that Irene wasn’t your daughter.”

Kristina bit back the correction, took a deep breath. “She was. She was created from me, Michael. My egg, my body—”

“And you promised to donate both the egg and your body to Molly and TJ. I’m not saying your grief isn’t complicated, or that you don’t have a right to feel like you’ve lost a child. I would never take that away from you. But you don’t seem to want to make room for Molly’s grief—”

“Molly’s not grieving at all, though, is she?” Kristina snapped. She got to her feet. “She’s taking over FBI cases and living like nothing happened at all—”

“Normalcy,” Michael echoed, slowly rising. “Isn’t that what you said would help? Going about her daily life. Doing her job. Molly’s always championed what’s right. The principles of it. And since she’s trying to find Cates’ real killer, I’m glad she’s doing it. You’re back to work at Charlie’s, aren’t you? Alexis is back to work, trying to get you out of these ridiculous charges.”

“That’s different—”

“No. It’s not. You can be mad at me all you want, Krissy, I can take it. But Molly doesn’t have to perform her grief to your satisfaction. You don’t have the right to demand that. TJ and Molly lost their daughter that day. You lost a niece that you were generously bringing into the world to build their family. No one expects you not to grieve.”

“No, you just expect me to act like Adela wasn’t my daughter, and she was. She was.” Kristina looked at him. “I was going to keep her.”

Michael exhaled, looked away and scrubbed his hand down his face. “Christ. You were going to drag Molly and TJ into a custody battle? That would have destroyed your entire family. You can’t be serious.”

“We would have worked out something—”

“Well, then I guess you should have stayed out of Dad’s custody battle,” Michael said flatly. “But that’s you, Krissy. You never know when to quit—” His head whipped to the side as she slapped him. “Right. You can go.”

“With pleasure,” she spat.

Port Charles Airport: Parking Lot

Jason navigated the SUV down the lines of cars, searching for an empty spot and coming up empty on their third pass. “Maybe I should drop you at the entrance hall and come back and pick you guys up.”

“We still have time,” Elizabeth said, scanning her side. “Cameron’s plan just landed. They’re probably not even in the terminal yet.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “So there’s something I should have told you when you picked me up five hours ago.”

The SUV braked, waiting for a car with its rear headlights on, signaling that maybe they were going to back up and leave. “Should I be scared?” Jason asked dryly. He clicked on the blinker.

“I just too nervous for the meeting on the way down and didn’t want to open that can of worms, and then when we were done, I didn’t want to talk about anything depressing, but now I realize we’re picking up Cameron, and I won’t want to talk about it this weekend at all—”

“Elizabeth.”

“Sam came to see me this morning,” she said in a rush of words.

He said nothing at first, easing the vehicle into the parking space, and putting it in park. He left the ignition on so that the air conditioner would keep running, then looked at her. “I wondered  how long she’d wait.”

“Why didn’t you tell me she was coming?” Elizabeth wanted to know. She folded her arms. “I felt a little blindsided.”

“Sorry. I didn’t—” Jason paused. “I didn’t want to talk about her either,” he said, and she made a face. “Sam’s not a fun topic. But I’m sorry. I should have. What did she say?”

“I don’t know if what she said matters as much as why she said it. You know what Sam does when she wants something. She figures out how to get it. I believe her when she says helping on my case is supposed to impress Danny.”

“I don’t know if she’s right about that, and I also don’t know if I care. That’s why I told her no at first — and that you’d need to sign off on it if the answer was going to change.” He looked at her. “Your case is too important for it to be something Sam tries to use for her own motives.”

Elizabeth considered that, then nodded. “That’s mostly where I am on it. And I think some of what she said could be true — Danny was getting into a lot of trouble last year. Jake found a vape pen on him. Bad grades, trouble at school, I knew all of that. So I know she was already having problems with him. What I didn’t know is that you asked Danny to keep your presence at the boat house a secret when the PCPD, FBI and every other government agency was looking for you.”

Jason sighed, leaned back against the driver’s seat, staring out the windshield. “Not my finest moment, but yeah. I did that. I—” He paused. “I can tell you I didn’t realize how badly my cover was blown and that I thought if people knew I was alive, Cates would call off the deal. Carly gets arrested, and then the last two years — it’s for nothing. I already—” He fisted his hand against the wheel. “I already hated every minute I was gone. I already regretted doing it, but damn it, I didn’t want to lose everything I’d tried to do and make it all for nothing. That time away from Danny, from Jake, from Monica—from everyone who mattered—I had tunnel vision, and I wasn’t—” His voice shifted slightly, thickened. “I didn’t see him as Danny, my son in that moment, and I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

“Jason—” Elizabeth reached out, touched his arm, and he finally looked at her, thought it was difficult to get a good read on him in the dim shadows. “I’m not blaming you. You came forward, you got to keep your deal, and we got to have you back. You made a mistake as a father. Every parent does—”

“Mine implicated Danny in a federal crime,” Jason bit out.

“Okay, and I helped Nikolas hold his pregnant mistress hostage in Wyndemere because we thought she was a serial killer,” Elizabeth said, “at a time when I thought you were dead, and I was the only parent in my sons’ lives.”

“You—” Jason looked at her, furrowed his brow. “The immunity charge?”

“Yeah. Not my finest moment as a mother. I could have gone to jail for the rest of my life. Instead, I threw Nikolas under the bus, and now he’s in jail instead.” She bit her lip. “In my defense, he kidnapped her first, and I just helped with prenatal care. Anyway. I didn’t bring that up to judge you. But that I do understand how Sam might have seen that act, combined it with Danny getting into trouble, and thinking — he might be happy to follow in your footsteps. Like Morgan, who got himself involved in Sonny’s business for a little while. The first time you were dead,” she added when he just looked at her. “I’m not saying Sam handled it well. Or that I believe she’s sorry.  But I believe her when she says she resents me and Jake. And she very deliberately shoved the boys in the middle of this feud that I never asked to be a part of in the first place. She’s always treated me like I fired the first shot, when all I did was go to you the night she slept with her stepfather.”

Jason sighed, then nodded. “Yeah. That’s—I could pretend for long periods of time she didn’t resent Jake, or outright hate him. But sometimes…she’d get a look—I never should have forgiven her. I love Danny, and I’ll never regret that he’s here, but all the same—”

“I get it, Jason. I married Franco, didn’t I?”

He made a face, and she smiled. “See, I told. Neither of us are stellar in the choice-making department. Relationships, crimes, we’re more alike than you give us credit for.”

Jason reached for her hand, squeezed it. “So what do you want to do about Sam?”

“I’m going to let it sit for a while. I want to say no, but I want her to feel like I thought about it first.” Her phone lit up with a text message, and she reached for it with her free hand. “Cameron just got off the plane.”

“We’d better get going.”

He met her at the back of the car, and took her hand again, lacing their fingers together, and she leaned against his shoulder as they crossed the parking lot towards the domestic arrivals terminal.

“My next day off is Thursday,” Elizabeth said just before they went inside. He turned to look at her, lifting his brows in question. “I work Monday to Wednesday. But Thursday, you know. I’m not planning to get arrested, and the boys will be gone all day. If you don’t have plans.”

“I will definitely not have plans.” He leaned down to brush his lips against hers, intending it to be a brief kiss, but she twisted her fingers in his shirt to hold him close for another minute before separating and heading inside.

The wait was brief, and thanks to Jason’s height, he was able to see Cameron striding out of baggage claim before Elizabeth could. He waved his hand to capture her son’s attention and Cameron waved back, grinning.

Cameron jogged the last few steps, dropping his duffel bag and backpack just before he reached them, then sweeping his mother off her feet, and swinging her in a circle. “It is so good to see you,” he managed, his voice a little wobbly.

He set her on her feet, and she framed his face with her hands. “My baby,” she murmured with shining eyes. “I missed you so much. I’m so glad you’re home.”

+38

Hi. Just a quick note here. Please remember that I know what I’m doing, and I do things for a reason. Thanks.

Written in 57 minutes.

Friday, September 12, 2024

Webber House: Living Room

She nearly didn’t open the door.

Just the sight of Sam through the little window blocks next to her door made Elizabeth wish she could turn off the lights and hide.

But she was an adult, it was nine in the morning so turning off the lights wouldn’t help, and unfortunately, Sam wasn’t going anywhere so she reluctantly pulled open the door. “Sam.”

“I…suppose I deserve how long it took you to answer the door,” Sam said, folding her arms, rocking back slightly. “You don’t have to talk to me.”

“And send you away without finding out why you came all the way here?” Elizabeth stepped back, irritated by her own curiosity. “But if it goes anything like our last conversation at the police station, you’re going back out that door, and you won’t be welcome back.”

“I deserve that, too,” Sam said, following Elizabeth into the kitchen where she was loading the dishes from that morning. “I should probably start with an apology for that—”

“I don’t need or want it. But Jason, Danny and Jake deserve it.” Elizabeth flicked on the dishwasher, turned to face Sam, keeping the island between them. “But you came over here after school started, so you must want something from me.”

“I do. And maybe you don’t want the apology, but I’m going to give it anyway. You and I—we’ve worked hard to put the bad blood between us in the past. To focus on Jake and Danny, because I know we both agree that they’re what matters.”

“I thought so. But the woman I saw last week? Started to remind me of who you used to be. And that version of you is a danger to my kids.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “I don’t know what’s changed between us—”

“It’s—it’s not about you. Or it wasn’t. Let me just—I had a whole—” Sam gestured in the air. “I had a whole thing planned, so let me get through it.” When Elizabeth didn’t protest, Sam nodded. “Okay. Okay. You know that things with Danny took a nose dive last year. His grades went off the rails, he started getting in trouble at school, and he got suspended last spring. The cops brought him home after he broke curfew. All of that — it was happening before Jason ever got back, so I know that’s not on him. I know that.”

She picked up the salt shaker, twisted it in her hands. “And it’s hard to feel like a failure. I—I wasn’t always the best mother, I know that. I can be selfish and self-destructive, and I ended up being away from my kids for months because I took reckless chances with Shiloh. It wasn’t enough for me to get Kristina away from him. I had to take him down. Me. Not anyone else. And I’ve paid for that choice. I thought Danny had forgiven me, but I guess—” Sam paused. “I don’t know. I just—I started to see Danny going down those same roads, and not knowing how to stop it. Nothing helped. Not time, patience, grounding, taking away electronics—everything was a disaster. And then Jason comes home, and I find out—from him—that Danny found him in the boathouse while he was supposed to be a fugitive.”

Elizabeth’s lips parted and she leaned forward slightly. “I didn’t—I didn’t know that.”

“He didn’t tell me. Jason told him not to. Jason made him an accessory, and God, I just—I saw red when he told me. I get maybe he was still—” Sam pressed her lips together. “I almost understand it. He was undercover, and you know, it’s not that different from pulling a con, and you have to be that person, but all I could see was Danny on the wrong road already — and Jason coming back to drag him all the way to the end of it. I didn’t handle it well. At all. I tried to get Jason out of the deal with the FBI, thinking that would get him out of danger, but that was stupid and reckless—” Sam set the salt shaker down. “I tried to explain this to him, but he seems to think it’s enough that he’s out of Sonny’s business, and things have been quiet since the Pikeman investigation ended. That wasn’t that long ago, okay? He was being shot at in the warehouse at the end of June.”

Elizabeth waited a long moment before responding, gathering her thoughts. “I will say that I hadn’t really thought about it from that perspective — that Danny was already making reckless choices. And that Danny’s easy forgiveness of Jason might have been another sign he was happy to follow some of Jason’s lesser choices. Jake…he just wasn’t interested in any of that. And Jake—they’ve done visits and overnights, but he’s never lived with Jason day in and day out. He wasn’t old enough to remember what happened with the Russians. He doesn’t even remember the Cassadines that well now, which—thank God, I guess.”

“And maybe that’s part of it for me,” Sam admitted. “Danny seemed so eager to be with Jason — and I worried it was the danger that did it. That he liked sneaking around and hiding the truth from me. I know Jason’s never wanted Jake or Danny involved in the business. He hated when Michael skirted near those lines. I don’t think he’d ever really encourage them. But Jake’s never showed the slightest interest. Because he’s your son. Mine? Can’t get enough of the risk. And—” Sam’s voice thickened. “It’s difficult when you realize that it’s because of you that he’s like that. Jason’s world gives him opportunities but I’m the one with the addiction to danger. It…it was easier just to blame him, you know? To tell myself I can still fix this, I can save Danny from all this pain and terrible choices if I just keep him from danger—”

Elizabeth came around the island, sat on the stool next to her. “Sam—”

“I can’t admit when I’m wrong — you know that. I’ve never been able to take accountability for anything until I’m forced to. And even then, I try to wiggle out of it. Spinelli got hired for your case, and Jason told him that I can’t help.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth tilted her head. “I didn’t know that.”

“I tried to get Spinelli to let me in anyway, but he refused, and so I tried to explain things to Jason, but he’s still just—” Sam paused. “He’s angry at me not just because of Danny. I think he could forgive me for the way I’ve tried to cut him off from Danny. I wouldn’t deserve it, but he always blames himself for all the danger anyway. But I…I said some things in front of Danny, and I didn’t realize how upset he was. He went to school, he told Jake, and Jake brought it home to Jason.”

“Some things?” Elizabeth echoed.

Sam dropped her eyes, looked to the side. “Something about you accepting Jason’s crumbs and accepting the same low standards for Jake.”

Elizabeth stared at her for a long moment, then pursed her lips. “You don’t like Jake, do you? Or me? Despite everything we’ve been through, we’re always going to be the obstacle that got in the way of your happy ending, aren’t we?”

“I think that Jake is a great kid, and I couldn’t ask for a better brother for Danny. I think you’re a good mother, and a good person.” Sam met her gaze. “But no, I’ve always resented both of you. Because as soon as Jake existed, I was never going to have Jason all to myself again. He was always going to be settling for me because he didn’t think he deserved you. And I know Danny was my consolation prize — the baby he’s accepted, that he loves, but that he didn’t want. Because if he couldn’t be Jake’s father, he shouldn’t be one at all.”

Elizabeth nodded, slid off her stool, and headed for the door. “Thank you. For admitting that.” She opened the door. “We’ve cleared the air, so you should probably go.”

Sam stopped on the threshold, stopping her from closing the door. “I know that the resentments I have now are wrong, and belong to a more bitter, angry version of me. And most of the time, I don’t feel that way. I love Dante.” Her eyes warmed. “I love him in ways that I’ve never loved anyone else, and he loves me. He’s the one I’ve been waiting for. It’s why you and I could get along. Why I could encourage Jake and Danny’s relationship. But then Jason came home, and I fell into all my bad habits. I’m sorry. I’m working on myself, and I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t expect Jake or Jason to either. But Danny—he’s my miracle. And I need to find a way to make it better with him.”

“And you think helping Spinelli with my case will do that?” Elizabeth asked. “Why?”

“Because it’s helping you. And Jake. Two people Danny thinks I hate. Because it’s the right thing to do. You’re innocent and I know that. Jason said that it would be up to you.”

“Did he?” Coward, she thought. She’d have to have a conversation with him about that. “I’m going to have a conversation with him. We may need to do more work before we’re at that part, Sam. Jake and Danny shouldn’t have been part of this war between us, and you’re the one that put them there, not me. That doesn’t get fixed overnight.”

“That is—frustrating but fair,” Sam admitted on a mutter. “Thank you for listening.”

“Thank you for being honest.” And then Elizabeth closed the door.

District Attorney’s Office: Robert’s Office

“Come in, Mr. Reynolds.” Robert gestured at the circular table by the windows overlooking downtown. “I’m so glad you decided to ask for this appointment.”

“You are?” Reynolds stood by the table, but didn’t take a seat. He furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“Because I’ve thrown a grenade in the middle of your case, and I knew you’d be interested in finding out why.” Robert sat down, smiled again. “Please. Sit. We’re colleagues of a sort, and this isn’t personal—”

“You’re interfering in the murder of a federal agent—” But Reynolds reluctantly took a seat. “I don’t see how that’s not personal.”

Robert leaned forward, still smiling, though there was a glint in his eye that suggested it wasn’t entirely friendly. “You have evidence that proves John Cates was on official business that night? After all, he was once a resident of Port Charles with several friends and associates still around. The Quartermaine party was well-attended.”

“Mr. Scorpio—”

“Mr. Reynolds.” Robert leaned back, crossed his legs. “Commissioner Devane was also unhappy with me. She suggested that you had proof John Cates was lured there by a party who is not the woman you have charged with his murder. Imagine my surprise when I looked through our evidence collection and didn’t see such a voicemail – though my people are the ones that collected the cell phone from the body. And I’m willing to bet you haven’t turned over that exculpatory evidence to Diane Miller.” Robert’s smile deepened. “That’s a Brady violation, my friend.”

Reynolds opened his mouth, then closed it, considering his next words very carefully. “The Commissioner told you that?”

“Yes. And since it’s not in any of the files, I’m willing to bet it was something you or the FBI shared with her. Now why would you do that, Mr. Reynolds? Did you think Anna would trot over to your real primary suspect and warn him?”

“It’s not as if it’s out of the realm of possibilty,” Reynolds said coolly. “She’s been known to be friendly with Morgan. And there’s the matter of Valentin Cassadine getting away after spending several nights with Anna in his bed.”

“I don’t believe I mentioned Mr. Morgan being the party on the voicemail. So thank you for confirming that it exists. I’ll expect a copy of it to be delivered to my detectives, and to Ms. Miller by the end of the day.” Robert got to his feet, straightened his jacket. “Mr. Reynolds, we both know that you’ve rushed to charge on flimsy evidence at best. If you came here to intimidate me into relinquishing jurisdiction, I’m afraid you’ll be leaving empty-handed. My team will be conducting a parallel investigation, and there’s nothing you can do to stop us.”

Lake House: Living Room

“It’s a mistake,” Sam told Molly with a shake of her head. “Not because I think Elizabeth is guilty — she’s not, obviously — but your career—”

“Since when do you care about careers?” Molly unwrapped her sandwich from Kelly’s, reached for napkins Alexis had put in the middle of the table. “You haven’t had a real one since you got fired from the DA’s office twenty years ago.”

“Eighteen okay? Don’t make me older than I am,” Sam grumbled. She looked at their mother. “Mom—”

“Molly knows the risks. And if it tanks her career at the DA’s office, well—” Alexis looked at her youngest daughter with pride. “You wouldn’t be the first Davis to flame out there.”

“Nope, just the third.”

Sam stuck her tonuge at Molly, and Alexis smiled watching them. It was so good to see Molly a  bit lighter, with some purpose in her step. Maybe it was a reckless choice, but Molly was standing on principles and it was hard to be disappointed in that.

She looked at the empty chair next to Sam, and wondered how long Kristina would be sitting there again — and how to mend the break between her and Molly.

That was a problem for another day. Today, she was going to focus only on Molly, and hope Kristina wasn’t getting into any trouble Alexis would have to fix later.

Hanley Federal Building: Pretrial Services Division

“I can’t believe I have to come here every week,” Elizabeth muttered as Jason opened the glass door leading to the suite of offices. “Three hours in the car just to be interrogated—”

“I’d say we could do the bike next week,” Jason said, and she looked at him with some interested, “but I don’t know if you’d want to do these meetings with helmet hair.”

“Oh—” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Probably not. You know, I remember a time when you wouldn’t even think about something like that. Or me. I don’t like being an adult.” She went up to the counter to check in.

“But hey, today we get to go straight to the airport and pick up Cameron,” Jason reminded her, and she grinned.

“That is one upside to this whole nightmare. Getting to see Cam and not have it mess up his classes. I know you’ll just brush it off, but it really does mean the world to me that you’re covering the flights. I won’t even bother to say I’ll pay you back—”

“It’s not just for you,” Jason told her. “Jake—” He hesitated. “This has been hard on him, and Aiden, too. But I think he’s struggled to be the oldest brother, to take care of everyone and not make any mistakes. He needs a break from that.”

“He needs his big brother.” She softened. “And it’s just like you to notice that. Thank you.” Someone called her name, and she made a face. “This is going to be awful, I can just feel it.”

And it was. They sat in the cubicle, in chairs shoved as close together as possible, with a woman who checked all their identification, looked at the logs of Elizabeth’s GPS monitor—

“You’re clear on where you’re allowed to go?” the agent asked. “City limits and here to the Federal building. Any other travel, your custodian has to get it approved by someone here first.” She looked at Jason. “You’re prepared for that, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“All right. You’ll be taking a weekly drug test.” She leaned over, pulled out a plastic cup. “Are you ready?”

Elizabeth sighed. A drug test when she didn’t even have time to do anything more crazy than a glass of wine. “Yeah, sure. Let’s get it over with.”

+39

Written in 69 minutes. You definitely did not want me to skip the last scene, so I had to go over 😛

Thursday, September 11, 2024

Webber Home: Kitchen

Jason followed Elizabeth into the kitchen as she carried the glasses Diane and Spinelli had used to the sink. And realized he didn’t actually have a reason to be at the house anymore.

Elizabeth was home to look after her boys, she’d met with Diane and Spinelli, they had a game plan — nothing was stopping him from returning to his room at Bobbie’s.

Except that he didn’t want to.

“It feels like they have so much to work with,” Elizabeth said, drawing his attention. “I really didn’t expect for Spinelli to have such a head start. Or so little for me to do.” She perched on one of the stools. “And I’m sure you wish they’d given you something to do.”

Jason opened his mouth to deny it, but then sighed. “Yeah, I’d feel better if I had someone to punch,” he admitted, relieved when she smiled. “But maybe I’ll get that chance eventually.”

Then her smile faded. “It’s scary,” Elizabeth admitted, “to think someone had access to my car — when did they put that gun in there? How long was I driving around with the murder weapon?” She shivered, folding her arms. “I don’t even think about what’s in my trunk. I throw things in, take them out—” She looked at him. “And don’t think I didn’t notice — they have a lot of leads — but no one mentioned a suspect list.”

Jason grimaced, slid onto the stool next to her. “If you’d asked me for a list of who hated John Cates enough to kill him, it wouldn’t be short. But how many people on that list who would frame you? I don’t know.”

“Diane seems pretty sure that the FBI is looking at both of us, which makes me think whoever put that gun in my car is trying to get you, not me.” Elizabeth paused. “I don’t understand — did they think the FBI would arrest you? For the gun in my car? Or that we’d both get arrested?”

“I don’t know what they thought,” Jason said, deciding not to air his actual suspicions — that whoever had done this had a pretty good idea how he’d react if Elizabeth were on her way to prison.

The same way he had when Carly had been in danger. Or Michael. How many times had he risked his life or freedom for someone else? Whoever had done this knew what Jason might sacrifice for someone he cared about.

“She said they’re not trying to discredit Michael’s testimony, but that they’ve been trying to chip at Jake and Danny. I—I thought we were pretty clear last week. They haven’t been able to question them, have they?” Elizabeth asked, and Jason tried not to make a face. “Jason—”

“Not Jake. They knew where we both stood on it. But the agent — Caldwell — he showed up at the penthouse last week when Dante was there, and Sam felt like she had to let Danny be questioned. I haven’t been able—” Jason sighed, rubbed the back of his neck. “I haven’t been able to follow up on that—Sam still isn’t letting Danny talk to me.”

“Oh. That’s awful. Does Jake know anything?”

“I don’t—I know how much Jake and Danny are talking right now either. The FBI—they came around the neighborhood. Interviewed everyone. Went to the high school, talked to teachers, other students-” Jason put out a hand to stop Elizabeth from getting to her feet. “Jake and I talked that first day, and I called the school to make it clear that no one questions Jake without a parent or a lawyer. I said the same for Danny, but I don’t know how much that will hold.”

“I hate this. I hate it—” Elizabeth fisted her hands in her lap, then blew out a breath. “But you handled it. Of course you did. That was the only thing that got me through this last week was knowing they were with you.” She reached for his hand, wrapped it in both of hers. “Thank you—”

“Don’t thank me. Jake’s my son. Aiden’s his brother—”

“And do you see Aiden’s father in this time zone? In the country? No.” Elizabeth pressed her lips together, released his hand, sat back. “That brings me to something we need to talk about.”

Jason frowned. “What?”

“What happens if this—if this goes wrong, and I end up back in jail—”

“That’s not going to happen,” Jason cut in, more sharply than he’d intended and she flashed him a mutinous look. “It’s not.”

“You don’t control the world—”

“But this—”

“Jason. Please. I need—I n-need to have this conversation. I need to talk about what happens if this ends badly. Please.”

PCPD: Conference Room

Dante rolled out the clean whiteboard to the side of the conference table. “Okay, let’s start charting this sucker out. You got the magnets—”

“Yeah, and here—” Chase handed him the shot of Cates from his badge. Dante slapped it on the board, popped the top off the dry erase marker. “Starting fresh. What do we know?”

“911 call comes in at 6:41 PM, September 2,” Dante grunted, scribbling info down. “Identifies as Michael Corinthos. Names the location and the victim.” Chase hung up Michael’s photo under witnesses, wrote his name. “We get to the scene, what, fifteen minutes later?”

“Log has it as 6:57pM. Not bad response time honestly, considering.” Chase hung up two more photos under witnesses. “We find out Jake Webber and Danny Morgan heard the gunshots. Send them off to uniforms to be held separately for later questioning.”

Dante continued to write as Chase kept talking. “Uniform statements now or later?”

“Now’s good.”

“Both boys give similar statements. They hear gunshots — Danny doesn’t remember how many, Jake thinks it was maybe four, but definitely more than two. Shortly after — less than a minute, Jake thinks, Danny thinks maybe a little more, but both are adamant it’s not more than five minutes — their father, Jason Morgan, rushes out the terrace door.” Chase hung up Jason’s photo, and Dante continued to write. “Both boys say the same thing — they report the location of the gunfire and worry because Michael and Jake’s mother, Elizabeth Webber, went in that direction earlier. Neither of them remember how long ago it was, but they think it might have been around ten minutes. Probably not more than that.”

“Okay.” Dante furrowed his brow, looked at the initial reports. “I’ll be up front with you that Danny’s not always honest. He’ll curve the truth if he thinks it’ll help him. But he’s not an idiot. So the fact that he and Jake are telling the same story suggest to me —”

“That it’s accurate.”

“Which keeps Jason under witnesses for the moment. So let’s talk about what their statement means. Shooting happens somewhere between 6:30 and 6:40. Michael didn’t remember where they were in the gardens, but think they ran maybe two-three minutes down to the boathouse. I’d have to trace that walk to get a better idea—” Dante paused.

“But that means the window for the shooting is around 6:30-6:35. Because we need time for Michael and Elizabeth to get on the scene, and he has to call 911. He thinks he did it right away, but admits it might have been anywhere from ten seconds to a full minute. And the boys hear the shots fired ten minutes or so after Michael and Elizabeth go in that direction.”

“It’s a tight window. And we don’t have to take the boys word for it — uniforms from other members of the family.” Dante held up a sheaf of papers. “Rocco, Aiden were both there when Michael and Elizabeth left the terrace. So was Georgie Spinelli. They went inside after that.”

“And Monica Quartermaine says Jason sent her up in the elevator about 6:30.”

Dante stared at their board, then nodded. “I’m pretty comfortable leaving all our witnesses in that category for now. I just don’t buy that many people lying. We’ll reinterview the kids — you take Rocco and Aiden, Danny, too. I’ll snag Georgie and Jake. Just to be sure. But it just makes the window way too tight.”

“So if we’ve eliminated Elizabeth for the moment — and I agree with you — then we should talk about the gun in her car. Because if we think that’s the murder weapon, that means it’s someone with access to the car. That can’t be a long list.”

“No, it didn’t look like it. Let’s look at the tip—” Dante waited while Chase searched through the box, retrieving the transcript, and then keyed a few strokes on the laptop.

“Okay, we got the transcript — and let’s hit play—”

“Hello. I have a tip about the murder of that FBI guy. The one on Labor Day. I’m a nurse at GH, and I overheard my supervisor, Elizabeth Webber, talking with that mob guy she’s always with. Jason Morgan. She said that he didn’t need to worry. No one was ever gonna look in her trunk, and when the smoke died down, he could get rid of the gun.”

“That voice—” Dante furrowed his brow. “I know that voice.”

“Same.”

“It’ll come to me—first, let’s talk about how stupid this tip is,” Dante said, and Chase grinned. “If you believe Jason Morgan is talking openly about murder weapons he’s stashed in someone’s car, then you’re an idiot.”

“I’ve always thought that about the FBI.”

“And if you think Jason Morgan is going to involve Elizabeth, then you’re a moron, too. This is inside baseball here — but Sam told me ages ago one of the big dealbreakers with the two of them back in the day was Jason’s worry over Elizabeth being swept up in the business. Can’t see him doing that now. But—” Dante sighed. “None of that is evidence I can write in a report. So let’s talk about the tip as if we’re taking it seriously. How do we identify the person who made it—”

“Go to the hospital and line up all the female workers until we get a match?” Chase suggested. “What, you’re the only one who can tell jokes?” he added when Dante rolled his eyes. “Okay, let’s try to corroborate this tip. We’ll get Elizabeth’s work schedule for Tuesday – Thursday last week, and get Jason’s movements.”

“Let’s start at GH because I don’t know if Diane’s going to cooperate — even if we’re on the same side.”

“We can do that but—” Chase paused. “The FBI sent this tip to the audio lab for testing—along with a second file. But I don’t have the second file in our files which means we didn’t collect it and turn it over to the FBI. So it’s not something we found that first day.”

“And it’s not something the feds used in their court hearing, I don’t remember anything about an audio file. It’s at the state lab?” Dante wanted to know.

“Yeah. So we’ll get the results, and the feds won’t, which is good, but it makes me wonder — why are they  testing these files? To see if they’re real—”

“Because Diane would insist on it, so they’re either getting ahead of it — or they’re not sure themselves. Let’s leave a message with the lab to rush and head to the hospital—Amy!” Dante snapped his fingers. “That’s who this nurse is. Amy Driscoll. That’s her voice.”

“Well, then let’s see if Amy’s up to old gossiping habits.”

Webber Home: Kitchen

Jason shifted on his stool, but he finally nodded, and Elizabeth exhaled in relief. “Okay. Okay.  First, Cameron finishes Stanford. I don’t care if you have to get him on the no fly list to keep him in California—”

“It’s not going to come to that—”

“He finishes Stanford,” Elizabeth said flatly, and Jason fell silent. “He worked so hard to get in there, and he delayed attending because things were hard at home. I leaned on him too much with his brothers, and he felt like he couldn’t leave me when Franco got sick, and then when he—promise me, Jason. Cameron finishes Stanford.”

“He’ll finish,” Jason said with a nod. “I promise.”

“Okay.” Elizabeth rubbed her hands on her thighs, nervous now. “Jake—he applies to that school in Spain. And if he gets in, he goes. If you have to kidnap him and put him on the plane, he goes.”

“All right.”

“And—this last part—this is where I’m going to ask you for something I don’t have the right to ask you, and I don’t care what Laura or Lucky say. Jake and Aiden stay together until Jake goes to school. And Aiden gets to stay here. In his house, with the oven that he helped me pick out when we remodeled, and everything that he loves in a neighborhood—he doesn’t remember living in the other house—” Elizabeth dragged in a deep breath. “Aiden stays here. Laura won’t have the time for him, and Lucky might try to drag him to Africa, and I don’t want that—”

“Okay, okay—” Jason got to his feet, drew her up, and closed his arms around her. “Aiden stays here.”

“You’ll make sure of it?” her voice wobbly.

“Yeah.” Jason kissed her temple. “Cameron finishes Stanford, Jake goes to Spain, and Aiden gets to finish high school living in this house. I promise.”

District Attorney’s Office

Robert heard his ex-wife voice in the outer suite and didn’t even bother to look up when she crashed through his door a moment later. “Don’t worry about it,” he told his harried assistant. “I’ve been expecting the Commissioner.” He leaned back, grinned when he saw Anna’s furious expression. “Hey, kid. How’s tricks?”

“Don’t you smile at me, Robert Scorpio! How dare you send that child to my office to give me orders—” Anna flung the memo at him, but the single sheet of paper never made it to his desk. “You’re mad if you think this is going to work—”

“Seems pretty clear to me that Elizabeth Webber is innocent—”

“The FBI have jurisdiction, Robert. Why are you fighting them on this? Don’t you have any worry for the other cases—”

Robert slowly rose to his feet. “They have to prove he was murdered in the line of duty. And if our people find the murderer first, I don’t much care who gets the credit. I want that innocent woman off the hook for this.”

“This is a mistake—do you know who Molly took as detectives? Chase and Dante. They’re hopelessly compromised—”

“I’m not sure you want to have a conversation about being compromised, Anna.”

She closed her mouth, her nostrils flaring. “Everyone seems to be wanting to tip toe around something. Why don’t you go ahead and accuse me if you’re going to use it against me—”

“Because if I say it out loud, I’ll have to do something about it, and you don’t want that.” Robert leaned forward, flattening both his hands on his desk. “Do you want to tell me why you’re so sure that it’s a mistake? Do you have reason to believe Elizabeth Webber murdered John Cates?”

“I—” Anna paused. “I have reason to believe Jason Morgan lured John to that boathouse, setting him up for a meeting with someone else. The FBI have a voicemail, Robert. They can put Jason at the scene—”

“Then why isn’t he under arrest, Anna? That seems like a conspiracy charged locked up tight, don’t you think? Murder weapon in the girlfriend’s car, boyfriend on the phone luring the victim. Both with motive and opportunity? You arrest them both, and watch them fight to turn on each other. But that’s not what the government did. So I’d ask yourself what game are they playing—and what role are they expecting you to play.”

Webber Home: Living Room

“I should get out of your hair,” Jason said, drawing away from her, shoving his hands into his pockets, taking a step back wards, and to the side, towards the door. “You’ve been surrounded since you got released, and you could probably use a break. You know—nap. Or—whatever.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip, started to follow him towards the door, then surprised herself when she spoke again. “Wait. There’s something else.”

He turned, his hand on the knob. “What?”

Her throat felt tight, her mouth dry, but she forced herself through. “Maybe it’s not the time to bring it up, but you know, we never get the timing right, and I realized if we keep waiting for the time to come around again, then it’s our own fault, right?”

Jason opened his mouth, then frowned. “What?”

“I’m not making sense, I know. I’m sorry. I’m just—I don’t know how much time any of us get or opportunities, and last week, before this all happened, we were—we were—” She gestured at him, then at herself. “It was like, we were going to take a step forward, and maybe that’s not going to happen now, and I guess I just wanted to know why. Or if you hadn’t thought about it, maybe you think about it.”

Jason released the door, turned to face her fully. “You mean last week, when I was on my way over here.”

“Y-Yes. I’m sure you  haven’t thought about it since Diane called you, and that makes sense. I didn’t really think about it either—” Liar, she told herself. “But—”

“When I came in here after the FBI searched the house, I saw the basket of sheets you’d washed.” Jason stepped towards her. “Maybe it sounds stupid, but it pissed me off all over again. I didn’t know I had room to be more angry, but that did it.”

“Feels like that always happens, huh?” she asked softly, lifting her gaze to his. “We get right up to a point, and then the real world smacks us for even thinking we get to have that dream. That phone call, the day we got engaged—or Sam pulling that awful stunt in the park when you were going to talk to me in the park about—” She bit her lip. “So you’ve thought about it.”

“Yeah. A lot,” he added, and she smiled, biting her lip. “I didn’t—I wasn’t going to bring it up. You’ve got—you’ve got enough to worry about—”

“Is this something I’d need to worry about?” She stepped closer to him. “Because it feels like it might be something…that I’d get to be happy about. I mean we’re dancing around it, which we always do, but I’d like—I’d like to stop doing that. I want to stop wasting—” She squeaked slightly when Jason put a hand at her waist and pulled her in for a kiss, and her words were cut off. She sighed, happily melting into his embrace, sliding her hands up his chest.

“I got tired of waiting you to stop talking,” he murmured against her lips, and she grinned, resting her hands at his collarbone.

“Feel free to shut me up any time.” She kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck. “We have time. Before the boys get home—oof—” She was lifted in the air and moving backwards. “Okay, definitely not arguing—”

The landline rang, and she scowled. “I’m not answering that.”

“Me, either—” Jason said, as they reached the stairs. They were half way up when the answering machine clicked on.

“Hello, this is Vivien from Pretrial Services in Syracuse for Elizabeth Webber. This is your daily check-in—”

“Damn it.” Jason set Elizabeth on her feet, and she sprinted down the steps to scoop up the phone. He sighed, moved down a few steps, and sat down.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said with a grimace, turning to look at him as she continued to speak. “I have time now. A half hour? Really? That long—okay.” She rubbed her temple. “Let’s get started.”

Always the damn phone.

+41

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.”

+46

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.”

+41

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.”

+31

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.”

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