Written in 61 minutes.

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Saturday, September 6, 2024

Miller & Davis: Office

Diane flipped through another section of the law text she was studying, barely doing more than holding out her hand for whatever the paralegal standing next to her held — hopefully the case law she’d damn well asked for thirty minutes ago—

But instead of a sheaf of papers, she heard a throat clearing, and she lifted her gaze to Alexis, finding her partner and friend holding out a mug of coffee. Diane straightened, took the cup, and waited for Alexis to return to her seat on the other side of their double partner desk. “Do I look that tired?”

“A little worn around the edges.” Alexis sipped her head. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, Diane. Your legal brief is already solid for dismissal—”

“Solid isn’t good enough.” The paralegal finally arrived, and Diane snatched the case law citations, skimming them. “Someone wants Elizabeth to be on the hook for this. Even if I get the case dismissed, this isn’t going away.”

Alexis shifted again. “Still — she’s got a credible alibi—”

“And the FBI arrested her anyway. Michael, the ELQ ceo and doting husband and father, is very credible. Michael, the son and nephew of notorious mobsters with a felony record of his own—” Diane scratched some notes in the margins of her drafted brief. “A jury could disregard it in seconds once they investigate the relationship between Michael and Jason, and how much Jason’s sacrificed. Michael had a reason for Cates to disappear—” Diane paused, then looked up. “Just be grateful that Kristina wasn’t standing there with Michael that day.”

Alexis jolted. “What?”

Diane sat up, reached for the preliminary forensics report. “Trajectory suggests the assailant was shorter than the victim, no taller than 5’5. Put her in Elizabeth’s place at the Quartermaines, and you’ve got motive and opportunity.”

“I don’t think this is very funny—”

“Neither do I, Alexis. And I’m not suggesting Kristina did this. Of course not. With the gun being found in the trunk—that shifts this completely into unknown territory. I can’t begin to think who had access to Elizabeth’s car, had a reason to want Cates dead, and would frame her.” Diane took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It’s just—I stood in that living room with Jason and those boys, and I don’t know if I can keep the promises I made them. The FBI wants blood, and it looks like they’re willing to take it where they can find it.”

“You don’t have to tell me how aggressive the FBI can be. The fact they’re still going through these charges against Kristina—” Alexis slid her reading glasses on, picked up the security photos from Sonny’s private investigator. “My daughter can’t help herself. Did you see how horrible these photos are?”

“She looks like the aggressor. Like she’s attacking Ava, yes, I know. If not for those, none of this would be happening. You at least have a built in defense—the state is prosecuting Ava.”

“That’s in my brief as well, but—” Alexis removed her glasses, sat back. “I don’t know if I can trust Kristina to hold it together in court. She’s so impulsive — so out of control — I can’t even stop her from calling the baby Adela—” She closed her eyes. “If you could have seen the look on Molly’s face—”

“I don’t envy you Kristina as a client, I really don’t. At least mine can follow orders.”

“Don’t remind me of that either,” Alexis muttered, then took another breath. “There’s another benefit to having Elizabeth as your client right now. You at least get to argue actual innocence. It’s not usually one of the tools you get to play with when Jason and Sonny are your clients.”

“There is that,” Diane replied with a smirk. She reached for her phone, frowning slightly as she saw the identification screen. She clicked to accept, lifted the phone to her ear. “Molly? Are you trying to reach your mother—” Across from her, Alexis sat up, alert.

“No, I’m—I just left the courthouse. I didn’t want anyone to overhear me making this call. I was just checking the docket—”

“On a Saturday? Honey, you need to take a vacation—”

“You’ll be glad I did. The only time they update the docket on Saturday is prisoner transfer.”

Diane closed her eyes, braced for impact. “What do you know?”

Quartermaine Estate: Driveway

Molly dropped the phone in her purse, then slid out of her car, navigating the gravel-lined driveway with her low heels, arguing with herself every step of the way.

But she hadn’t changed her mind by the time she was admitted entrance into the foyer. “Mr. Chase is just right through there,” the maid said, and Molly nodded, heading for the double entrance. One door was partially open.

Inside, she found Michael and Willow talking fervently with Brook Lynn and Chase. Molly hesitated just inside the door, grimacing when Willow noticed her first, got to her feet.

“Molly. It’s so good to see you.” She crossed the room, took Molly’s hand. “How are you?”

“Um, fine. This is more of a—well, I can’t say professional because I am absolutely not here on business. Not officially.” She found Chase’s concerned gaze as he rose from the armchair, turning to face her. “I just took a huge risk, and I’m taking another right now but I can’t say silent while this happens.”

“What’s going on?” Michael wanted to know. He looked at Chase, then back at Molly. “What’s happening?”

“Chase was with Anna when I updated them on Elizabeth’s case last night — the last official update I could give since the DA’s office agreed to the jurisdiction transfer—Robert would have lost in court, and I was outvoted,” she added when Michael’s scowl deepened. “I wanted to delay and fight. But we couldn’t — and now I see why the FBI was pushing so hard to get jurisdiction dealt with. They’re transferring Elizabeth out of county. She’s being taken to Jamesville Correctional Facility—”

“Where the hell is that?” Brook Lynn demanded, fisting a hand at her hip. “Why can’t she stay here?”

“They’re transferring her to federal court.” Chase exhaled on a low breath. “They’re serious about this. Her hearing is in an actual federal court house?”

“Yes. Wednesday. They’re doing this on purpose, Chase. There’s no other reason. Kristina has federal charges pending and her bail hearing was held within hours in a local court. They filed late last night, making sure the delay would push things to Tuesday, and transferring her puts another day in.”

Michael rubbed his mouth, considering. “Does Jason know?”

“I called Diane first. If there’s any chance to stop it or delay it or something, she needed to know first. She said she’d handle all of that, and it’s better if it comes from her. I don’t want Jason to be asked who told him and put any of you on the spot. Not until we talked and decided on a strategy.”

Willow furrowed her brow. “Wait, I mean, I know it’s bad that her hearing is delayed, but what’s the difference about court houses and jails—isn’t it all the same?” she said to her husband, then looked to Chase. “Why do we all look so upset?”

“Diane won’t know those judges, so that makes her job harder. Visitation is more strict, and you know Caldwell is going to refuse visitors as much as possible,” Molly said. “And Caldwell honestly believes Jason did this, and that you and Elizabeth are protecting him. That Jake and Danny are lying. He’s aggressive and he cuts corners, but I think he honestly believes she’s involved. He’s trying to break Jason and Jake by making this as painful for Elizabeth as possible.”

“Jason would have already confessed,” Brook Lynn said, folding her arms. “If he’d done it — which he didn’t,” she added hastily when Michael shot her a look. “Either way, knowing him, he might still confess if it looks like it’s going south.”

“I believe Danny and Jake,” Molly said, lifting her chin. “I believe Michael. Which means Jason and Elizabeth are both innocent. I can’t—there’s a lot I can’t fix, but my job—my job is to do right. To do justice. I don’t care what Robert or Anna say. I’m going to find a way to fight this. I just—” She smiled weakly. “I guess I need to know I’ve got a powerful family backing me.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Chase said. He paused. “Not that I speak for the rest of the family—”

“You do. One hundred percent.” Brook Lynn rubbed her hands together. “Where do we start?”

PCPD: Conference Room

“You son of a bitch!”

Caldwell rose from his seat at the table, smiling faintly as Diane pushed past one of the officers at the door. “I thought I heard your dulcet tones—”

“Shove it, Eddie.” Her hair slightly disheveled, her face clean of makeup, Diane looked like she hadn’t slept in days but she was still ready to do battle from the fury in her eyes. “How many laws you wanna violate? Due process, federal rules of procedure, New York state law—”

Caldwell lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Do you want to tell me what horrible thing I did before you sentence me?”

“You’re transferring Elizabeth Webber to federal custody,” Diane snarled. “And you didn’t even bother to tell me—”

“I don’t have to tell lawyers anything, Diane. That’s the beauty of my job. It’s not my job to inform you, and look, you already know, so we’re good—”

“She could have stayed here—”

“That was my call, Ms. Miller.”

Diane stumbled to a stop as the other man in the room slowly rose, buttoning his suit jacket. “Who the hell are you?”

“Assistant U.S. District Attorney Noah Reynolds. I’ll be prosecuting your client.” Reynolds came around the table to their side of the room. “Now, if you have a complaint about your notification, I’m not legally liable to notify you until the transfer is complete for security reasons. As long as you’re told where your client is when you wish to see them—”

“You’re skirting the lines, and you damn well know it—”

“Complain to the judge. The one you’ll meet in Syracuse. Not one of your friends here who lets you walk all over them in your quest to let criminals walk the stret.”

“Oh, come off your high horse—”

“Your client had the murder weapon in her car—”

“Alleged. Without ballistics, you’ve got a gun that could have been—”

“With the same ammunition—” Noah smiled, but there was no humor in the expression. “Your DA’s office agreed to our jurisdiction—”

And oh boy, would Robert be hearing about that. “He doesn’t get to make the final ruling on that. You and I both know this will be dismissed in court—”

“We’ll see about that. But until then, Ms. Webber is in our custody. She murdered an FBI agent, Ms. Miller. Or she’s protecting the killer. Either way, she doesn’t get to enjoy special treatment.”

Webber House: Living Room

Jason was already regretting opening the door without checking who was on the other side when a furious Sam sailed past him, stopping for a minute when she saw Jake and Aiden sorting items from the book case. “You’re cleaning? After everything that’s happened? You’re cleaning?”

She whirled around to glare at Jason. “You’ve got a lot of nerve.”

Jason let out a slow breath, searched for patience, then closed the door. “What do you want, Sam?”

“I want to know why the hell the FBI is still coming after Danny?”

Jake straightened, setting down one of his mother’s knicknacks. “What are you talking about?”

Jason’s expression was grim. “They’re trying to break my alibi.”

“Of course they are! Your alibi is a pair of teenagers! What were you thinking?”

Jason stared at her for a moment, bewildered. “When?”

“Letting them be your alibi—”

“I didn’t let them do anything—”

“Is she for real right now?” Aiden said a hushed whisper to Jake who just muttered something under his breath.

“Are you happy now? Are you happy with what you’ve done? Elizabeth’s in federal custody and your sons are being targeted by the FBI! Is there anything you touch that doesn’t immediately get ruined?” Sam retorted. “I’m not letting Danny be another victim—”

“Are you going to stop her?” Jake demanded, shoving his way between them, his glare hot  towards his father. “You never stop her when she starts—”

“Jake,” Jason began, but Jake just shook his head, and turned to his brother’s mother.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, and Dad’s too much of a wuss to tell you to shut the fuck up, so let me do it.”

Sam laughed derisively, shaking her head. “Jake, you do not want to get in the middle of this—”

“You put me there, Sam, so if you want to blame anyone, blame yourself for making me and Mom baby sit Danny and Dad on their visits. Dad didn’t do anything! Neither did me or Danny. And Mom is innocent of her charges, okay? We sure as hell can’t say that about you, can we?” Jake retorted and Sam’s eyes went wide.

“Jake—” But Jason’s protest wasn’t that loud, and neither Jake or Sam acknowledged it. If he’d wanted to stop it—he could have. But Jake was angry, he was holding a lot of it in—

And Sam was going to start treating Jake like the adult he almost was — he wasn’t the little kid who would sit by and let someone insult his mother or anyone his family.

Sam narrowed her eyes. “What the hell does that mean?”

“How do we know this isn’t about you? Maybe that FBI guy is coming after you. I remember where I saw him. He was the guy investigating you for Shiloh’s murder. Maybe he’s coming after you because you didn’t serve longer in jail. I mean, he’s questioning Danny, not me? You’re here blaming Dad, well, he’s not the only one who’s committed crimes, is he, Sam?”

PCPD: Holding Cell

Diane rushed past the officer to find Elizabeth pacing back and forth in her cell. “I’m sorry—”

Elizabeth turned, darted to the edge of the cell, wrapping her fingers around the bars. “Diane, they said they’re transferring me. Where are they taking me?”

“I—” Diane took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. They’re taking you to a federal facility near Syracuse. And this is going to delay your hearing another day—you’ll be there until Wednesday—”

Everything inside her started to shake, and Elizabeth shook her head. “No. No. No that’s not—that’s not possible—stop them—I didn’t do anything—”

“I know. I know. Listen to me, Elizabeth. We’re going to do everything we can—”

“I want to see my boys. Will they let me see them—” Elizabeth looked over when the cell opened and officers came in—U.S. Marshalls. She swallowed hard, backing away. “Diane.”

“I’m going to do everything I can. Elizabeth, you have my word—Everything—” Diane closed her mouth, backing away as Elizabeth’s cell opened, and the marshalls put the handcuffs around Elizabeth’s wrists—and the shackles around her ankles, the other woman pale and trembling.

“I promise—trust me—” She watched them take Elizabeth away, then pressed both hands to her cheeks, took a deep breath. Oh, God, she’d have to tell Jason this was only getting worse—

Webber House: Living Room

 Instead of infuriating Sam further, Jake’s taunt just made her smile, with a tinge of sadness in her eyes. “We all start that way, you know. Defending him.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible—”

“No, we do. I did. Your mom still does, doesn’t she? Defends him at very turn,” Sam continued when Jake hesitated. “When he came home and didn’t tell us a damn thing about where he’d been, she defended him. She hasn’t learned her lesson yet, and look where she is, Jake. Look! I got out, and I’m getting my son out. Your mother? She’s just fine to go down with the ship.”

“It’s time to go, Sam,” Jason said, stalking past her, dragging the door open. “Don’t come back—”

“I won’t. You and Danny are done. Do you get it?” she told Jason, then looked back at Jake. “I hope with everything I have that your mother learns from this. Otherwise, you’ll be driving a lot further than Syracause to see her.”

“Syra—” Aiden frowned. “She’s at the PCPD. We’re going down to see her this afternoon—”

Sam smirked, then looked at Jason. “Oh, you haven’t told them? They don’t know?”

“There’s nothing to know,” Jason retorted. “Elizabeth will get released at her bail hearing—”

“Oh, sure, maybe here in Port Charles, when Diane knows the judges and you can whisper in their ears. But you’re pissing off a whole new level of cop.” Sam looked at Jake and Aiden. “Your mom’s been transferred to federal custody. Good luck getting in there to see her.”

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