Written in 51 minutes.

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Thursday, October 3, 2024

Port Charles Temporary FBI Offices

For the first time in days, the skies over Port Charles were blue, the remnants of the tropical storm had finally moved out of the region, tormenting Ontario to their north or just fading out of memory altogether, but relentless downpour had left temporary scars across the city making Gia Campbell’s trip even more frustrating as she navigated road closures and detours until she was able to reach her destination.

At her entrance, Caldwell straightened from his position leaning over a different agent, his expression stone-faced. “Reynolds said you’d stepped back from the case—”

“Noah Reynolds is going to be lucky to keep his job by the time this case is over,” Gia said flatly. “If you don’t want to be on the chopping block right along side him, I suggest you listen to what I have to say.”

Caldwell exchanged a glance with the agent he’d been speaking with, then nodded towards the nearby conference room. “All right. You’ve got my attention.”

Quartermaine Estate: Foyer

Chase lifted his brows when he saw who was waiting for him by the front door. “I thought you’d still be at the hospital — or with Danny—”

Molly folded her arms, shook her head. “I can’t.” When Chase just looked quizzical, she let out a low huff. “I can’t look at my mother right now, and if Kristina were to wake up — well, let’s just say it wouldn’t be friendly. And Danny—” Her throat tightened. “I can’t look at him right now. Not when he might still think there’s a chance his mother might come home.”

“There’s always—”

“Chase.” Molly closed her eyes. “Don’t. You were at the scene last night. You said yourself the car was gone. And Sam—we should have found her by now. It’s nearly nine in the morning—I’m not here to debate that—” She opened her eyes, focused on him again. “I need to know where you are in the case. And if there’s a chance we can make sure Kristina doesn’t get away with causing that accident.”

“Molly, why don’t you sit down—take a minute—”

“I can’t. I can’t. You were following them, you said so yourself. The car swerved of the road, and Spinelli said it sounded like Kristina found the phone. If Kristina tried to grab the wheel or distracted Sam  while she was driving, she’s responsible. Reckless endangerment—Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped, holding up a finger when Chase’s expression softened. “I’m not crazy. We need to find something to charge her with. Everyone knows what you were doing there. Sonny is going to have her on the first plane—”

“We don’t have a lot to work with. Anything could have happened in that car—”

“But you can charge her—”

“That’s a question for Robert,” Chase told her, and Molly sighed. “All I can tell you is that we don’t have more evidence than we did last night. Everything we know is circumstantial. Our techs are looking at footage around Elizabeth’s house, Spinelli is looking at the same things right now. We also subpoenaed Kristina’s cell phone records, and we’re going to try to get your sister’s too. We’re circling the wagons—”

“Yeah, well, it won’t be a lot of help if she’s lifted out of trouble just like she always is. Sonny will find a way to make this someone else’s fault. My mother will make excuses, and Kristina will get away with it—”

“All I can do is follow the law and where the evidence takes me. I get why you don’t want to be with your mother right now, but Danny and Scout are going to need you—”

Molly’s eyes shifted and she looked towards the stairs. “Scout. Where is she?”

“Drew’s keeping her at home today — Scout doesn’t know yet. She’s still asleep. And he didn’t want to say anything until they knew for sure. Danny’s probably coming out of his skin. He knows too much, and he’ll have questions. You should be with him.”

Miller & Davis: Diane’s Office

It had scarcely been twenty-four hours since she’d learned Kristina might be the real killer, and while Elizabeth had trusted Spinelli and Diane’s convictions, she realized there was part of her that was sure, somehow, there’d be an explanation. A reason for all the things they’d learned.

She stood in Diane’s office, staring at the television screen as security footage played across four quadrants — Spinelli had organized four views from three of her neighbors and Elizabeth’s own — syncing up the time, depicting the day the horror had begun.

Kristina walked out of Elizabeth’s house, went to her car, and pulled away. Then a few minutes, Jason’s motorcycle parked at the curb, and Elizabeth came out her door, turned the lock to check it, and then left with him.

Then — Kristina returned, parking behind Elizabeth’s car. The trunk opened, she put the metal box inside, and then disappeared out of view, until she returned on Elizabeth’s camera, stooping down at the door, then leaving.

“I rewatched the footage for the rest of that day,” Spinelli said, and she looked at him. “Aiden came home, and just before the door closes and we lose him, he bends down. I don’t know for sure — but I think he might have picked up your key fob. I think Kristina dropped it at the door.”

“Doesn’t really matter, does it?” Jason said roughly, and Elizabeth looked at him, her whole body physically aching for him. What was it like to watch the young woman he’d protected her whole life repay him with betrayal? Had Kristina intended for Elizabeth to be the target? Or for the FBI to go straight for Jason? After all, the false tip had tied Jason to the crime as well.

“Spinelli has put together this exhibit, but we also have prepared a report of the raw footage,” Diane said. “It ties Kristina to the gun, and we have the tech reports — Elizabeth never opened that trunk again. It’s the only trunk pop after the murder. Their case is dead. The gun is the only link and they cannot put it in Elizabeth’s hands or tie her to knowledge that it even existed.”

There should have been relief, a sweet sense of victory, or just something at those words, but the last month of her life — of all their lives — had been so draining that Elizabeth didn’t know what to feel. And to get this news today of all days when they were waiting for even more grave news to arrive — she just looked at Jason, reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. “I’m so sorry.” Then to Diane, who appeared to have aged a decade overnight. “To both of you. I know how long you’ve known her. How much you’ve cared and looked after her.”

Then to Spinelli, who never looked less like the silly boy with his nicknames he’d been when they met, as he stood by the monitor, staring at the results of his long, sleepless night. She didn’t know what to say to him, to any of them beyond what she’d already expressed. “What’s next? What are you doing with the report?”

“We’ll send a copy to Chase and the PCPD, and then to Agent Caldwell and Reynolds. I’ve appealed my motion to exclude the gun with a request to dismiss the charges. What happens next largely depends on them. They might immediately drop the charges — I expect Robert will file charges locally.”

“You don’t seem convinced that will happen,” Jason said, getting to his feet. “Do you think the FBI will ignore this?”

“Not ignore. Explain it away. It seems clear to me you were always their target,” Diane told him. “And everything they’ve done to Elizabeth and the boys was a means to turn them against you, to testify to your knowledge. They may just shift their theory of the crime — Kristina was helping you, and framing Elizabeth to throw off the scent from you both. It’s not going to work, a jury would never believe it. I think a judge will dismiss Elizabeth’s charges, but they might come after you next, Jason.”

“That’s fine,” Jason said, and Elizabeth made a face. “I’d rather they do that,” Jason told her with a shake of his head. “They can’t convict me any more than they could convict you. But you deserve to have your name cleared.”

“Kristina’s made it clear she doesn’t care about the truth. She could turn state’s witness, pretend you gave her the gun to get rid of—”

“She could,” Jason admitted. “But I’m prepared to deal with that. You have what you need to get the case against Elizabeth dismissed,” he told Diane. “Do what you have to do. We’ll face what happens next.”

“Keep us in the loop. We’ll be sticking close to home,” Elizabeth said. “We should—” She stopped when she heard the ring of Jason’s phone. He fished it from his pocket. “It’s Michael.”

Belle Forest Drive: Command Center

Michael put his phone back in his pocket, then made his way over to Dante, still standing in the same place, in the same position he’d been when the lieutenant from the rescue squad had given him the news. “Jason’s on his way back to the house. He was with Diane at the office. I told him we’d meet him there.”

“You should go. They—they might still need me—”

“Dante.”

His brother turned to look at him, his dark eyes glimmering with unshed tears, his mouth bracketed with lines, the day’s growth of stubble telling the story of the exhaustion he must feel. “I should be here when they get her out—”

“It will take hours,” Michael said gently. “They have to stabilize the car before they can send out divers. And you know Sam wouldn’t want it this way. She wouldn’t want you here. She’d want you with Danny. Drew and Willow are at the house. They’re going to tell Scout, and I think the kids are going to need all of us to get them through it.”

“Do you think she knew?” Dante asked, his voice rough. “Could she feel the car moving, but she couldn’t get to the surface? Was she still alive when it got stuck at that damn bridge? And she just couldn’t get out? Or was she already gone? Did she—” He faltered, bent over at the knees, bracing his hands on his thighs. “There’s almost no worse way to go. She would have fought so hard to get out. She would have known she was going to die—”

“We might never know the answers to that,” Michael said. “And maybe it won’t bring us comfort now, but knowing how bad things with Danny were — she was able to talk to him one more time, Dante. And she died knowing he still loved her. It’s not enough,” he added when Dante straightened, looked at him. “It won’t ever be enough. But it’s something to hold on to. He’s going to blame himself, you know that. Sam wouldn’t want that.”

“No, she wouldn’t. Okay. Okay.” Dante scrubbed his face, dragging his hands back and forth, forcing color back into his skin. “Okay. You’re right. I need to be the one to tell Danny. I need to—I need to be with him. And then the kids need to be together. We need to make sure they have each other.”

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