Written in 63 minutes.

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Friday, September 5, 2024

 PCPD: Processing Unit

Elizabeth flinched at the flash of the camera, only dimly registering the command to turn — the flash less startling when it wasn’t head-on.

An arm tugged her towards the table across the room, and she followed rotely, remembering Diane’s instructions.

 Be cooperative. Smile. Yes, sir, no, sir. Be the model prisoner. I need you to be perfect. They see you as Jason Morgan’s woman. They’re expecting you to resist, to give attitude. Don’t give them a reason to think you’ll do anything but what they ask. You’re ready, willing, and able to work in the system to see your name cleared, even if that means staying in custody. The Feds are going to argue the combined resources of the Quartermaines and Jason’s connections, especially after he was gone for two years, make you a flight risk. But you are a law-abiding, upstanding, beloved member of the community. Former daughter-in-law to the mayor, mother of a Quartermaine. Mother of a Spencer. Mother of all-star collegiate scholarship-winning athlete. You are Elizabeth Imogene Webber. We’re going to make them see you, and not an extension of some man.

She forced her expression to remain bland as her index finger was shoved harshly into an ink pad, then rolled on a finger print pad. Why weren’t they using digital — hadn’t they switched ages ago? She’d remembered when Jason came home all those years ago, they couldn’t match his prints without finding the physical ones and those were in storage.

Did they think Spinelli would mess with the files? Were they that paranoid?

She kept her mouth closed.

I need you to be perfect.

Harborview Towers: Corinthos Penthouse

“Thanks,” Carly said to the guard as she came through the door he held open, then scowled when she found Sonny at the window, sipping a bourbon. “You’re just sitting here? How can you just be sitting here?”

Sonny turned, squinted. “What?”

“Jason’s in trouble.” She tossed her purse on the sofa, planted her hands on either side of her hips. “Why aren’t you doing something?”

“How do you know I’m not?” He crossed to the mini bar, and she had a vision of them, twenty years earlier in this room, screaming and fighting, the glass crashing to the floor as Sonny lashed out, sweeping his arm across the top—

“Well, then what are you doing? Jason wouldn’t give me anything to do, and I—” She pressed her lips together. “Michael said there’s nothing we can do right now. Diane has to work her magic, but that can’t be right, Sonny—”

“Carly.” Sonny held a tumbler out to her — clear with her preferred vodka, and she snatched it from his hand. “It’s under control. Diane’s handling it. Jason’s with the boys. You don’t even like Elizabeth, so I don’t really know why you’re so upset.”

Her scowl deepened, and she nearly threw the glass at his head for old time’s sake. “Are you kidding me? You think this is because of Elizabeth? I mean, okay, no, we aren’t fans of each other, and I’m not sending her a freaking Christmas card, but Jason’s had one goal since he got himself out of that horrible deal with the FBI. Spend time with his kids. Elizabeth is letting him do that, so for right now, we’re good.” She tossed back half the glass, wincing at the burn. “But we both know she’s just a patsy. They’re going after Jason.”

“Carly—”

“Michael was with Elizabeth when they heard the shots. She has an alibi. I mean, so does Jason, but Jake and Danny are teenagers. Michael’s—”

“Jason’s nephew who would absolutely lie for him,” Sonny finished and she sighed, looked away. “Carly, I’m not unaware of the facts. I just think we need to follow Diane’s instructions for now—”

“Okay, maybe we can’t do anything, but why can’t we jump start the next step? Because, okay, getting Elizabeth out of jail, that’s first. Second, finding out what scumbag did this? Who would hate Jason so much he’s using a woman to hurt him?”

Sonny studied for a long moment. “You’re not even considering maybe Jason did this?”

“Okay, you’ve lost it. Officially. Because I know you didn’t just suggest that Jason, our best friend, who has over and over and over again sacrificed himself for us. For our kids — you’re not suggesting Jason murdered John Cates less than a hundred feet from his kids, from our son, and then hid the murder weapon in Elizabeth’s car? I thought we got your meds fixed.”

Sonny exhaled slowly, stroked his chip. “I didn’t say I thought he did—”

“Well, you sure as hell were insinuating it. I know you’re still ticked Jason played dead and worked for the FBI, and maybe you  resent him because he found a way out that didn’t take anyone else down with him. He didn’t have to snitch. But that’s no reason to abandon him when he needs us—”

“I think he’s made it very clear that he doesn’t need us for this. He wouldn’t want us talking about it—”

“Well, if I only did things Jason approved of, I’d be a lot more boring. Now stop arguing with me and let’s figure this out. Okay, who wanted John Cates dead?”

Sonny sighed, then sat on the sofa, still sipping his drink. “You first.”

“Well, you did,” Carly shot back, and he glowered at her. “But you have an alibi. Alexis probably wouldn’t have cared if Cates disappeared, but I don’t see her doing this. Maybe when she was younger, but—” She blew out an exasperated breath. “Kristina, I guess, had a reason to hate him, and if we’d found Cates pushed off a cliff, maybe she’d make the list—”

“Oh, that’s nice of you to eliminate my daughter,” Sonny said, his eyes darkening. He leaned forward. “Maybe we’ll talk about your daughter next. Joss is dating a cop. She suddenly hates my guts even though she was happy to enjoy my lifestyle until we got divorced—”

Carly hissed. “Why are you like this? I wasn’t talking about Kristina seriously! I’m starting with the logical place. Who wanted John Cates dead? Every fricking body, that’s the problem. I didn’t kill him, you didn’t kill him. Neither did Alexis or Kristina. Maybe Ava did it.” She brightened. “You know what? I like that. She’s my suspect.”

“There you go.” Sonny raised the glass, then finished the last of his bourbon. He got to his feet, intending to fill it again. His phone vibrated, and he tugged it from his pocket. A message from Jason, he saw, over the Signal app that erased all texts automatically. Need to talk. Tonight. At the house. 1am.

 Sonny exhaled slowly, then turned to look at her, lifting the phone. “Here. Jason’s asking to talk to me. I’ll get it from him straight, and give him your Ava theory. I know you’re worried, Carly, but Diane will handle this. And if she can’t get Liz out of this, Jason and I have a lot of options on the table.”

“And if one of them is sending Elizabeth to Timbuktu, I can’t even support that since Jason would just go with her and the boys,” Carly said sourly. “Fine. But I’ll be checking back.”

“Looking forward to it.”

PCPD: Processing

 It was freezing in the small room with nothing more than a table, a female officer, and Elizabeth standing shoeless on the concrete floor, wearing nothing more than lacy pink bra and panties set she’d picked out for her rendezvous with Jason. She’d felt sexy and excited, sliding into them, thinking about Jason seeing her that way, peeling them off her skin—

Instead she stood in the middle of the harshly lit room, and the only person who’d see them was some anonymous officer she’d never met before.

“Here’s the uniform,” the woman said. Her tone was brisk, not unkind, but it wasn’t exactly patient or kind. “Bra and panties go in here—” She flicked the gray tub on the table. “You’ll have jail-issued set. I’ll leave you to change—” There was a smirk now, just a curve of her lips. “No need to worry about a strip search. You don’t have enough meat on you to hide a needle, much less a weapon.”

Her cheeks flushed, Elizabeth folded her arms over her — as pointed out, small lace-covered breasts, her skin crawling from the idea that she was being studied that way or the idea that if she’d had carried even a little more weight, she’d be subjected to something even more violating.

Be perfect. Have to be perfect. Have to go home.

When she said nothing, offered no repost, the guard sighed, then pulled the door open. When Elizabeth was alone, she quickly changed and banged on the door. Please let this nightmare be over soon.

PCPD: Comissioner’s Office

 Molly set her briefcase down on the conference table in Anna’s room, her expression grim. “Elizabeth was officially booked into holding, but the paperwork got delayed — they’re not going to get her on the docket for Monday.”

Chase shot to his feet, his scowl spreading across his handsome features. “So she’s going to be stuck in there longer? When can they get her out?”

“I don’t know. Tuesday, most likely, but Syracuse is a smaller courthouse. They might not be able to get her on the calendar sooner than Wednesday—don’t give me that look, Chase. Federal cases are different. They run on different rules.”

“This isn’t right,” Chase said. He looked to Anna, jabbed a finger. “You should have fought harder to keep this case. He wasn’t killed in the line of duty. You should have made them prove they had jurisdiction.”

“Chase—” Anna held up her hands. “I appreciate your concern—and I know you feel loyal to her with what happened with Finn a few months ago—”

“It’s not just that, but, okay, sure it’s part of it. She stuck with Finn until he didn’t give her a choice but to leave him. And she still supported me in getting him into rehab.” Chase dragged his hand down his face. “She’s a good person, Anna. And she doesn’t deserve this. Not when we know she’s innocent. This isn’t the job. We don’t go after innocent people.”

Molly sighed, sat at the table. “Chase. I’m sorry. No one had any idea in our office they were even looking at Elizabeth. I thought, like everyone else, that she, the boys, Michael, Jason, they were all in the clear. But—” She looked at Anna. “The FBI has kept this investigation so closed. But I guess this tip — it was exactly what they needed—”

“Awfully convenient, if you ask me.” Anna lifted her reading glasses, then picked up the transcript. “A nurse at the hospital? Who’s worked with Elizabeth? I imagine Diane will want to nail that down. Anyone who thinks Jason Morgan would be discussing the murder weapon in a public setting with Elizabeth doesn’t know them very well—”

“But they did find the gun,” Molly said softly and Anna sighed. “Anna, let’s put aside the fact that a gun consistent with what we know was used in the murder was found in her car, okay? I’ve seen crazier things — I could believe someone is framing her. But why? And why is the FBI so convinced she or Jason are involved? Isn’t his deal with the FBI over? Why would he even be around John Cates or kill him?”

Anna pressed her lips together, considered what to share. “I did have a conversation with Caldwell the other day, and he was willing to share their theory of motive. Apparently, Cates was unhappy with how the Pikeman case ended. The FBI got their answer and enough to break down the organization, but Cates wanted Pikeman. He wanted that arrest, that splash.” She sat down, her lips pursed. “So he stayed here in PC and continued with his side plan to go after Sonny Corinthos.”

“Well, I know that much considering what he’s done to my family,” Molly said tightly. “He’s using my daughter’s death to go after my sister.” She closed her eyes. “He was using,” she corrected softly. “What does any of that have to do with Jason?”

“Cates told Caldwell that he’d made a new deal with Jason. That Jason would turn against Sonny, all Cates had to do was get Sonny to give Jason an order that they could nail him on. So—he arrested Kristina in a deliberately aggravating fashion, using Ava Jerome — someone Sonny loathes — as the primary witness. He was hoping to goad Sonny into giving Jason an order to execute Cates.”

“But that’s insane,” Molly said, her eyes wide. “How could anyone think that would work?”

“I don’t know. Without Cates here to explain it to us, we may never know. Certainly Jason won’t tell us anything. And even then, I have my doubts that Cates struck any such deal. Jason gave me the impression when he came home that he wanted to be done. That he wanted to focus on his kids. And that’s exactly what he’s done since the charges against Carly were dropped.” Anna waited a beat. “We may never know the full story without John Cates here to speak for himself. But the FBI believes they have the motive for Jason. Now they appear to have the means. All the stands between them and proving opportunity is the testimony of Jason’s own sons.”

PCPD: Holding Cells

Elizabeth flinched when the cell slammed shut behind her, and she turned around to look at her new surroundings. She’d seen these cells more than once — but she’d never been on this side of them.

She wrapped her fingers around the cold metal bars, her eyes burning when she saw the ink beneath her fingers. She pulled her hands back, picking at the ink, looking around — but there were no sinks in these kinds of cells.

When she saw the officer patrolling the area, she raised her voice hesitantly. “Can I—Can I use the bathroom?”

The guard stopped, looked at her with bushy brows frowning. “Already? I don’t have time to be coming in here every five minutes with any of your women problems. You go now, you’re not going again tonight.”

She shrank back, curling her fingernails in her palms. Stupid to waste her one trip just to wash her hands when it wouldn’t work anyway. “N-No, n-ever mind. I can wait.”

Be perfect. Have to be perfect. Have to go home.

“Damn right.”

Webber House: Upstairs Hallway

He couldn’t sleep.

They’d come home from dinner, his grandmother smiling forcefully, reminding them over and over again that it was going to be okay. That their mother would come home and this would  be a funny story they told themselves one day.

Grandma Laura had to believe things like that, Mom had told Jake once. She’d seen too much in her life — had gone through years of catatonia after a nervous breakdown, the kidnapping when she was younger by Stavros Cassadine, forced to have their uncle Nikolas, and now, in the last few years, watching her only daughter waste away in a coma.

Grandma Laura had more right than most people, Mom said, to try to find the good in life, and to hope for happier days. It wasn’t their job to rip that away from her.

So Jake and Aiden had let Grandma paint those pictures, pushing around the food. After she’d left, they’d helped Jason put more of the house to rights — and he’d had to give his father some credit — his dad had made a list of food items that had been destroyed, and Spinelli had delivered a box to the house so that Aiden would still have his baking ingredients.

No matter how frustrated he got with his dad, Jake thought, there was no arguing that he listened and he paid attention to what mattered. Aiden dealt with stress by cooking, burying himself in difficult recipes, blocking out the outside world. Jake had his painting, so how could he argue?

In fact, Jake was gonna go downstairs, grab some water, and go back to work on some projects. He had a restless need to get it all out on paper.

But he stopped at the top of the stairs — he heard the door open downstairs, and voices. Wondering if his dad was going to say something that he didn’t want Jake to know, Jake decided to creep down the steps slowly — he knew just which steps to avoid —

The voices became a little more clear, so Jake paused — no need to give himself away by getting closer.  And was that…that was Michael’s dad, wasn’t it?

“—no, I agree with you,” Sonny was saying. “Best to just do exactly as Diane asks. Get Elizabeth home and worry about the rest of it later.”

“I’m not messing around with the Feds. I’ve done that enough,” his dad said. “Diane said the case had holes in it. And we’ve got alibis.”

“Right. And you know Michael will hold up. He’s been through this before. He knows how to handle this, and but, uh, you know Jake and Danny—they’re still young—”

“The Feds can’t touch them without Diane present. I’m not worried.”

“Okay. Okay. So as long as that holds, we’re good. Good. Okay, well, I’m glad we’re on the same page. I’ll—you know, keep my distance until this finishes out. Tell me if you need anything.”

He heard his dad say something, but when the door closed a second later, Jake got to his feet and crept back upstairs.

He knew his dad hadn’t done this. He knew he and Danny weren’t lying. And Jake knew his mother and Michael weren’t lying.

But did Sonny know who had done it? And…

Did his dad know? Were they just going to try to get Mom’s case dismissed and let the real bastard get away with it?

Jake swallowed that thought, took a deep breath. No. No. His dad had promised to take care of his mother. And Mom trusted him. One hundred percent. He was just making things up in his head.

It would be okay. It had to be.

PCPD: Holding Cell

 Elizabeth lay on the cot in her cell, staring straight up at the concrete ceiling. She might as well have been laying on the floor — the thin mattress gave no comfort at all. And the lights were still on in the entire block.

It would be impossible to sleep.

Not that she thought she’d be able to anyway. There was no closing her eyes and forgetting any of this. She wasn’t going home tonight, tomorrow, the next day —

And maybe not even after that.

She fisted her hands at her side, took a deep breath.

She would get through this. She’d figure it out.

Be perfect. Have to be perfect. Have to go home.

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