Written in 57 minutes.

---

Saturday, September 6, 2024

Webber House: Front Entrance

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

“Sam. Stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Diane!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Webber House: Front Entrance

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

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

“Jase?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know. I just—I hate it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can tell?”

“Yeah, not my first rodeo.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I am not!”

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

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

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

“Diane—”

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

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

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

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

← Flash Fiction: You’re Not Sorry – Part 15 | Flash Fiction: You’re Not Sorry – Part 17 →