Written in 57 minutes.

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Monday, September 2, 2024

 Quartermaine Estate: Hallway

There had been a time when Jason would have done anything and everything to avoid this house and nearly everyone in it — and when his mere presence would have encouraged questions rather than haphazard acknowledgment as he walked his mother to the elevator installed decades earlier for his grandmother, and his offer to see her to her room was politely rebuffed.

“Go find Elizabeth and the boys, and make your escape like you’ve been planning for hours,” she said to him with a smile. “Thank you for coming.” She squeezed his hand and he kissed her cheek. When she was safely on board, and the doors closed, he headed for the library in the back of the house which led out onto the garden terrace. The boys had spent the majority of the day down at the lake, and he figured he’d run into Elizabeth at some point.

He was alone in the hallway just outside the library when he heard a muffled, but familiar sound. Pop—

He was already halfway across the library when another round of shots, louder now, sounded. Pop, pop—

He flung the doors open, startling Danny and Jake who were looking out over the edge of the terrace, and he had only a moment to take in their shaken expressions as the relief flooded through him. His sons were safe — whatever it was, it hadn’t taken them—

“You’re both all right?” He took Jake by the shoulder, forgetting that his son loathed him, and Jake obviously didn’t remember either as he nodded his head.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re good—but—” He looked out towards the gardens which stretched down to the trail leading down to the lake. “M-Mom and Michael went that way—”

Elizabeth and Michael — His stomach dropped, but he looked at Danny, his hand still on Jake’s shoulders. “You both stay right here. Do you understand me? Don’t move.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Don’t move!” Jason ordered again, and then — because it was quicker than going to the other side of the terrace where the steps were, he hopped the fence, fell to the ground in a crouch and took off towards the gardens.

Jake took a step forward, as if to follow his father, then Danny grabbed him. “If you go after him, Dad’s gonna fry you. And if he leaves anything left over, your mother will kill you.”

Jake grimaced, looked back — his father had disappeared — “Yeah, okay. But you can’t go either. Because same.”

“So we’ll stay right here. It’s all probably fine,” Danny said, weakly. “An accident or something.”

“Or something.”

Quartermaine Estate: Boat House

Michael stumbled to a stop at the end of the dirt trail that connected the estate proper to the boat house and lake—then swallowed hard. On the deck outside the building, a man laid on his back, his hand raised in air in loose claws—

Oh, God. I know who that is.

Elizabeth nearly crashed into his back, then darted around him, her heeled sandals clicking across the wood, the sound breaking Michael’s stupor. He reached her side as she crouched next to the man—

“It’s Cates—” Elizabeth pressed one hand into the wound in his chest, grabbed his wrist to monitor his pulse with the other.  “Michael—”

“I’ve got it—” He fumbled for his phone, and it nearly slipped from his hands. He dialed with shaking fingers, waiting for the dispatch to pick up.

“John, John—” Elizabeth kept her voice even as she spoke the federal agent’s first name, and he looked at her, blood coming from his mouth, his chest barely moving. Just a flick of his clouded blue eyes, pupils dilated. “John, stay with me, we’re calling for help—”

Michael had turn away because he knew — he knew — the bloodstains — two shots to the gut, one to the chest — no matter how good a trauma nurse Elizabeth was, the paramedics wouldn’t be in time.

But he stepped away to give directions to the dispatcher, closing out his mind to man behind who had sworn war on his father—had his father done this, had he committed this heinous crime on Quartermaine property?

“John, listen to me, I need to you focus on me,” Elizabeth said, pressing hard on the chest wound, the one dangerously close to his heart. He choked, coughed, his lips parted, as if trying to say something. “John—

“M-m-my s-son—”

“We’ll get your son to the hospital, John. Just hold on—hold on—” Her voice faltered when the blood beneath her hand stopped spurting, his eyes closed—and his body went limp. She looked up at Michael, his back turned to her, then back at the dead man laid out in front of her.

Her hands trembled as she gently laid the hand she’d used for his pulse across his chest. “Michael.”

Michael turned to her, the phone still in his hand. “He didn’t make it, did he?”

“No.” She sat back on her heels, wiped her forehead with her forearm, trying to avoid smearing her face with blood — but it was all over her hands. She stared at the red streaks, only looking up when she heard footsteps thundering up the steps, and saw Jason.

He bypassed Michael, clearly seeing the younger man was on his feet and unharmed, but he saw Elizabeth on the ground, blood on her hands before he saw the body. He reached her, nearly sliding to his knees, so he could take her shoulders. “Are you hurt—” he asked, his voice rough—and then Jason stopped, took in the full scene, and his grip on her shoulders tightened for a moment before he flexed his fingers, and released her. “It’s Cates.”

“He just—” Her voice thickened, and she curled her bloody hands into fists. “It just…I couldn’t stop it—”

Jason got to his feet, then helped her up, his hands gripping her elbows, nearly half-lifting her. He kept an arm around her waist, drew her away from the body, his eyes still on the body, taking in the damage. “What happened? What—” He looked at Michael, then at her. “What’s he doing here?”

“I d-don’t know.” She took a deep breath, gathering herself. When she spoke again, her tone was even, almost normal. “Michael and I heard—we weren’t here.”

“We were in the gardens,” Michael said, and Jason scowled.

“And you ran toward the gunshots?” he demanded.

“I wanted—I thought—there might have been kids down here—” Elizabeth looked at him, the color fading from her already pale skin, leaving her almost chalky white. “I didn’t know—” But the realization of what he said, the danger she’d put herself in with her sons just a few hundred feet away. “Probably not the smartest thing I’ve done this year.”

“You think?” he muttered, then pulled her a little closer, thinking of how reckless she could be when she thought she could help someone.  “What’s your excuse?” he demanded of his nephew.

“It’s my property,” Michael said almost fiercely. “You ran towards it, too. And unless you decided to carry a weapon to the family barbecue, you’re as unarmed as we are.”

Jason grimaced because of course, Michael was right. “You called 911?”

“Yeah, they’re on their way—and—I told them we knew who it was. They know it’s an FBI agent, so they won’t take long.” His nephew looked down at the crumpled form. “I’ll go up and direct them down here. I’d—I’d suggest Liz come with me, but we shouldn’t…I don’t feel right leaving him alone, and—”

“Jason can’t be on the crime scene alone,” Elizabeth finished with a sigh. “This is such a mess.”

“And it’s just getting started,” Michael said. “I better get up to the house.”

Davis House: Living Room

Sam closed the door, then leaned against it, finding her mother standing by the fireplace, staring at the dark ashes. “I might have made it worse.”

“Not possible.” Alexis rubbed her temple, then looked at her daughter with a weary smile. “Kristina was so angry with me when she left—I don’t know why she thinks I can work miracles. Just because these charges are ridiculous, we still have to move through the system.”

“Well, I didn’t actually find Kristina. Her cell went straight to voicemail, and she wasn’t at any of her usual places, and no one’s home at Sonny’s penthouse. Or at least that’s what the guy at the front desk said.” Sam sat on the arm of the sofa. “Molly was home, and I thought—well, she’s just always been the reasonable one. I thought I could help her see Kristina’s perspective—”

“I’m sure that went over well,” Alexis muttered. She rubbed her face with both hands. “I’m not sure it’s fair to rely on Molly being reasonable in this situation. Not with Kristina going around talking about how the baby was her daughter—and God, if Molly knew Kristina was calling her Adela—”

“I don’t think it would surprise her,” Sam said, going to her mother’s side. “Look, we just have to ride this wave. Kristina’s charges will be dismissed, and she’ll be able to take a breath. And Ava—well, who knows how long this will take to go to trial, but with any justice in the world, Ava will be found guilty. We’ll get them through this, Mom. If we just stick together.”

Alexis pulled Sam in for a hug, kissing the top of her head. “What would I do without you?”

“Good thing you don’t have to find out.”

PCPD: Squad Room

 Anna Devane stepped into the squad room, and the grave expression had Dante rising from his chair. Across from him, his partner Harrison Chase looked up with a furrowed brow, then turned to see Anna approaching them.

“Anna?” Dante asked.

“We’ve had a dispatch call from the Quartermaines. Rocco and Danny are fine—” Anna said, raising her hands as they started to talk. “As is Brook Lynn. As far as I can tell, no one from the family itself is injured. But Michael reported a shooting down by the lake, and identified the victim as…John Cates.”

“Cates?” Chase grimaced. “Oh, hell. That list of suspects is going to be awful—” He winced, looked at Dante, likely remembering some of those suspects were family members. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. We’re not going to be the ones handling this, are we, Anna?” Dante said to the commissioner.

“What? Why?” Chase asked.

“The murder of an FBI agent is almost always a federal case. We can respond, and uniforms and paramedics are already en route, but I can guarantee you — the FBI will be taking this case over in a matter of hours.”

“Well, what if we didn’t tell them right away?” Dante asked. “Couldn’t we—”  He winced. “Not that I’m trying to protect anyone—”

“No, I don’t like the idea of the federal government coming into our jurisdiction either, but we require their cooperation with the gambling ring and smuggling operation—I can’t be risking our ability to use their resources to buy us a few hours. I want you both to head out to the estate, get a lay of the land, and I’ll contact their office.”

“Let’s go,” Dante said to Chase, picking up his call. “Let’s get as much as we can before the feds take over.”

Anna watched him go, wondering if Dante was asking out of curiosity or self-preservation—after all—his father and sister would be at the top of the list.

Then she picked up a nearby phone and dialed a familiar number. “Yes, I need to speak with SSA Edward Caldwell. No, it’s urgent. There’s been a murder. Agent John Cates is dead.”

 

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In case anyone cares, I looked up this law, and it’s actually true that the murder of an FBI agent is almost always treated as a federal case, which I thought would be an interesting way to approach this story for reasons that will be made clear later 😛 You know me, I always try to go for as much realism as possible. See you tomorrow for a double update!

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