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

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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.

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