Written in 80 minutes. The court scene took a bit, and I had to rewrite it slightly (still not right but oh well), and I wanted to get the planned scenes in since I really wanted to end on this beat.

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Wednesday, September 25, 2024

Quartermaine Estate: Foyer

Michael had the door already open before Caldwell could knock or ring the doorbell. He’d seen the cadre of vehicles enter through the estate gates —a few unmarked dark sedans and two white vans with the FBI logo on the side.

“How kind of you to greet us personally,” Caldwell remarked, passing by Michael into the foyer where he locked eyes with Tracy who lifted her chin in defiance. He turned back to face the young man. “But it wasn’t necessary.”

Michael grimaced, started to close the door, but a smaller, more delicate hand slapped against it, and a slender woman slid through, her dark hair coiled at her nape with a cool smile playing faintly on her lips. “Not so fast, Mr. Corinthos.”

He furrowed his brow — he knew her, didn’t he? Something about her face—

“As you’re aware by now, the FBI doesn’t need a warrant to search the premises, but Assistant U.S. Attorney Campbell has prepared one anyway. Just to be careful.”

She held out the legal paper, but Michael ignored it, looked at the FBI agent. “You’re not going to find anything that makes Elizabeth or my uncle look guilty. Because they’re not. Elizabeth and I heard the gunshots. We were together. We ran towards them, and Elizabeth tried to keep Cates alive until the ambulance could get here. She tried to help him—”

“Michael.” His great-aunt came towards him, touched his sleeve. “There’s no point in arguing. Let the agents do their job so they can leave and never come back.”

“I’ll just leave this here,” the woman said, laying the warrant on the table. “Caldwell, if you’re ready?”

“Been ready for weeks. After you, Gia.”

When they’d left, Michael retrieved his phone. “Gia Campbell,” he muttered, tapping it into the Google Search screen.

“I know that name.” Tracy frowned. “Why do I know that name?”

“Worked for the government a number of years — no, no, not that — here! I knew it. She worked for my mother. A long time ago. She was a model at Deception.”

“A model?” Tracy folded her arms. “What are the odds a model from Port Charles would be on this case? And when did your mother work at Deception?”

“For about two years a life time ago.” Michael tapped a few keys.

Hey mom do you remember Gia Campbell?

Port Charles Courthouse: Family Court

Jason hadn’t been lying to Danny when he’d told him that this entire situation sucked, and the hearing would only make it worse.

Sam had come in a few minutes after him, followed by her mother, her expression pale and drawn. She’d had a hearing an hour before this one with Drew — and while Diane hadn’t gathered the specifics, she knew that Drew had retained custody.

His ex-wife’s hands were trembling slightly when she took her seat at the other table, and Jason looked away, straight ahead at the judge’s bench and witness stand. He and Sam might be on the opposite ends of the world right now, and it was hard to remember when he’d been in love with her — but they had loved one another once. And he knew how much she’d wanted to be a mother. How she’d grieved her stillborn daughter —

His resolve to go through with this hearing, to gain primary custody, hadn’t changed. But he wasn’t enjoying putting Sam through this.

“Good morning.”

The judge’s brisk tones brought Jason back, and he focused on the man sitting on the bench,  his chest tight, his hands clenched in his lap.

“We’re here on the matter of Jason Morgan versus Samantha McCall, with the respondent’s return following the issuance of a temporary emergency custody order…” The judge continued laying out the plan for the hearing, and Jason didn’t pay close attention after that. He wasn’t required to speak unless spoken to, and Diane would take point. It was a relief, he knew, to not have to testify.

“Ms. Miller, you may proceed.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Diane rose to her feet. “I’ll keep my remarks brief as the petition is detailed, and Your Honor has already indicated you’ve reviewed it. My client is not seeking to terminate the minor child’s contact with his mother. That wouldn’t be in anyone’s best interests. But Ms. McCall’s actions over the past few months, and specifically the last few weeks have suggested that she is not the best custodial parent at this time. I described her attempts at parental alienation, limiting and even forbidding contact, abandonment of the minor during a legal situation, refusal to consent to medical treatment, and unfortunately, a physical altercation instigated by Ms. McCall in the minor’s presence. With the addition of the physical fight between the minor and the other teenager in Ms. McCall’s home, Mr. Morgan seeks to be named as the primary custodian with Ms. McCall having supervised and limited contact with her son until the court has determined she is more stable.”

“I’ve read your petition and reviewed the attached affidavits.” The judge peered at the other table. “Ms. Davis?”

“Your Honor.” Alexis rose to her feet. “Ms. McCall admits freely that she has not handled the situation of her ex-husband’s return to Port Charles well. Though Mr. Morgan was working undercover with the FBI for a worthy cause, I’d like to remind the court that his family — including his sons — believed their father had died. There was a funeral. A stone to visit in a cemetery. Ms. McCall worried for her son’s emotional and physical safety, understandably. She learned of her son’s substances issues and made mistakes in how she handled that as well. But she has done everything she can to support her son, despite her worries that Mr. Morgan’s live in partner is attempting parental alienation of her own. We ask that the court order a more equal custodial arrangement, perhaps trading weeks with each parent.”

“And Ms. Graber? As the attorney for the child, what would you like to offer?”

A woman sitting in the jury’s box rose to her feet, and Jason watched her, unsure what weight her testimony would offer — and how Danny’s voice would be heard.

“The minor is extremely conflicted, as one might expect. He loves his mother and he feels guilty. The details of our conversation are in the report, covering the period of the summer when his mother limited and even forbid contact, interrogated him after every visit that did occur, the incident that led to her abandonment, the refusal to consent for treatment—” She paused. “And the incident on September 21 when Ms. McCall assaulted Ms. Webber for bringing the minor to Ms. McCall’s residence. He expressed fear for the first time of what his mother might do. He had wanted to ask her to be part of his therapy, and Ms. Webber was supporting him. And in return, his mother had become furious, took his phone so he couldn’t warn anyone, and went to confront Ms. Webber. Ms. McCall assaulted Ms. Webber, the details of which are in the police report and security camera footage.” She paused. “The minor would like to remain in his father’s custody, though he hopes he can see his mother.”

The judge nodded, shuffled some papers. “I see that none of the details or arguments have shifted since we last spoke.” He looked at Alexis, at Sam. “I can understand Ms. McCall’s concern after her ex-husband returned from the dead, so to speak. And if she had come to the court at that point to ask for relief, to restrict visitation, this might have ended very differently.”

Sam let out a small sound and her mother reached for Sam’s hand, squeezing it.

“But it’s not six months ago, Ms. McCall, and I have Mr. Morgan who has affidavits from the FBI supporting that he was working undercover and helped to uncover a very dangerous criminal. He has reestablished himself as a father in his other son’s life, as a man with a full-time job and stable household. The minor child has expressed fear remaining in your custody, and you have constructively abandoned him, refused him medical treatment, and committed a violent act in his presence. Your home is not fit for him, Ms. McCall.”

“Your Honor,” Alexis began, but the judge held up his hand.

“My mind is made up, Ms. Davis. This court rules that the custody order continues. Daniel Morgan will remain in Jason Morgan’s primary custody. His mother may have supervised visitation. Additionally, Ms. McCall, I am ordering you to complete two months of anger management. You should be thanking Ms. Webber for not pressing charges. The video footage is very concerning. Your minor son is clearly distressed and upset, and you showed little to no awareness that he was even present.”

Diane got to her feet. “Your Honor, on the subject of supervision—”

“Ms. Miller?”

“My client would like to make this as painless as possible for his son. We would be satisfied with Ms. McCall being supervised by her mother, either of her sisters, or anyone else Ms. Davis chooses as often as Danny is comfortable with.”

The judge lifted his brows, then looked at Alexis and Sam again. “Once again, Ms. McCall, consider yourself lucky. I’ll leave the schedule up to Mr. Morgan, with a hearing to reconsider set for December. Court is adjourned.”

General Hospital: Nurse’s Station

Elizabeth made a face when she saw Carly step out of the elevator — and head straight for her. She’d hoped to avoid this conversation for as long as possible, and maybe Carly had waited out of courtesy, but that didn’t mean she was looking forward to it.

“Hey! I figured you’d be working today. You’re always working,” Carly said, reaching her. “Can you take a few minutes?”

Elizabeth pursed her lip. “Wasn’t that the same reason you were so sure Lucky was the father? Because I hadn’t immediately quit my job to enjoy the gravy train?”

Carly wrinkled her nose. “Do we have to talk about ancient history today? I mean, we do because that’s why I’m here, but that’s not the event I wanted to discuss. It’s something much more important.”

“I’m sure it is.” Elizabeth clicked a few screens, then stepped out from behind the counter gesturing for Carly to head over to the cluster of sofas. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here to help you. The FBI is at the Quartermaines,” Carly told Elizabeth. “They’re searching again—”

“They lifted injunction yesterday and it’s not raining, so we knew that would happen. If that’s it—”

Carly snagged Elizabeth’s elbow to stop her from returning to work. “Aren’t you interested in who came to search? Because it’s an old friend. Well, not friend, I suppose. But enemy.”

Elizabeth hesitated, then turned to face Carly fully. “What do you mean?”

“Gia Campbell. Michael remembered that she worked with me, so he let me know she was there. He doesn’t remember that you knew her at all, so of course he was wondering why some model from his childhood is showing up at the estate today.” Carly raised her brows. “But you know and I both know she hated your guts.”

Elizabeth released a breath. “Oh. Yeah, we knew Gia was on the case. We found out last week, and no, we don’t know why. Diane’s got a plan, so—”

“Good. Good. Because maybe you don’t remember or know, but Gia really hated you.” Carly folded her arms. “She and I had a lot in common back then — not the hating of you, except sure. But I knew she was as greedy and as ambitious as I was, you know? So if you need anyone to testify about what a horrorshow she was and how she’s absolutely holding a grudge because Laura picked you when Gia was the better choice, I’ll do it.”

“I can’t decide if you’re insulting me or not, because you’re right. Gia should have won. And she ended up taking the job, so—”

“But she was runner-up, and she knows it.” Carly made a face. “And you weren’t the worst model, okay? I just really hated you. That one ad campaign you did — we did pretty well.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth, then closed it, confused. “Did you just—are you being nice to me?”

“It’s uncomfortable for me, too, don’t worry. But Jason gets to be with Jake, and that’s all I ever wanted for him. And I guess he likes you, too, and I’ve given up trying to get rid of you, so—” Carly paused. “I know what you’re going through sucks. But you’re listening to Diane, right? You’re doing everything she tells you to?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Good. I didn’t,” Carly added almost as an afterthought. “And it was the worst mistake of my life. I thought I knew better, and I tried to take a deal when Nelle was framing me, and I—” She swallowed hard, folded her arms, and looked away. “I ended up somewhere that nearly destroyed me, so—don’t go to prison. Because if you end up there, Jason will do what he did with Michael and confess to get you out, so just—don’t be stupid.”

Kevin & Laura’s Condo: Living Room

Dante stared down at the phone in his hand, then at Rocco sprawled out on the living room sofa. He approached his son, and sat on the edge of the coffee table. “Maybe you don’t care anymore, but Sam lost her hearings.”

Rocco didn’t look at him, kept his eyes trained on the ceiling above. “Both of them?”

“Yes. Drew and Jason have primary custody until at least December. Drew’s only going to let Sam have one two-hour visit a week. With some stranger from family services. Jason’s letting Danny see Sam with her grandmother or aunts as much as he wants.”

Rocco grimaced. “That…” He sat up, leaned back against the sofa. “Doesn’t really seem fair. Danny was screwing up more. Scout—she’s—she probably really hates this.”

“Yeah. It doesn’t.” Dante paused. “I know you don’t like Sam. I’m sorry I didn’t see it before—”

“I don’t—” Rocco shook his head. “I don’t hate her. I just—I mean, she’s not exactly my favorite, okay? But it was just how she was treating Danny, okay? And you know she’s been mental about it. I didn’t like it.”

“I didn’t like it either, and I should have tried hard to mediate. I should have seen you were unhappy. That doesn’t make anything you’ve done right, Rocco. Don’t think you’re off the hook.”

“Yeah, whatever. I don’t even care anymore.”

Dante waited a moment. “Your grandmother told me she took you to Silver Water. That you’re…struggling with your mother’s condition—”

“Struggling. That’s like Grandma. Always making something seem better than it is. I told her I wanted Mom to die. To turn off the machines and just let it happen.” His eyes were damp and Rocco dropped them to his lap. “And I’m not sorry. It’s how I feel.”

“You think that makes me angry?” His son’s only respond was the jerking of his shoulder, and Dante sighed. “You don’t want your mother to die, Rocco—”

“Don’t tell me what I want!” Rocco snapped, raising his head, his eyes glimmering with fury. “I know—”

“You want her to wake up. And you think that’s not an option. You want to stop living in the gray space. The middle where we get nothing. There’s no closure. How do you grieve someone who isn’t dead? But she’s gone all the same. So you want it to be over. There’s no shame in that, Rocco. No shame in resenting Sam because she’s not your mother. No shame in resenting Danny because he got his father back.”

Rocco dragged his forearm under his eyes. “I just…it’s too hard, Dad. All of it. And I want it to go away. So I make it go away.” He met his father’s gaze. “I make it go away however I can, and I’m not sorry for that.”

“I get it now. I didn’t before, and I’m sorry. I’m here now, and I’m ready to deal with this however you need me to. It might take me a few weeks to get a place of our own or maybe we can go to Grandma Olivia’s—”

“If we go back to the penthouse—” Rocco pressed his lips together. “If I knock my shit off and Sam stops punching people, will Scout get to come home?”

“I—” Dante tilted his head. “What?”

“Scout. Her father’s an asshole. Like a giant one who’s never given a shit about her, and she’s like—she doesn’t deserve this. Maybe Sam’s an asshole about Danny, but she’s not—Scout shouldn’t be part of any of this. I can’t—” He stopped. “I can’t fix Mom. Or you or Sam. Or Danny. But Scout’s just a kid. I can make that better, can’t I?”

“I—” Dante exhaled slowly. “It means a lot to me that you’re thinking about her at a time like this. Let’s…let’s talk about this more. Maybe we can do something to help her that isn’t going to make you unhappy, too. But I’m proud of you for thinking of her.”

Quartermaine Estate: Boat House

Gia couldn’t remember now if she’d ever actually been to the Quartermaine estate during her short tenure in Port Charles. She and Emily had never truly made peace in the year they’d known each other, so she’d never been invited —

She stood on the deck at the boat house, looking at the crime scene photos, then at the deck again, trying to get a better sense of what had happened here. While the crime scene unit had done their search, she’d walked through Elizabeth and Michael’s statement again — their trek from the terrace to the gardens —

“Gia.”

She looked up to find Caldwell climbing the stairs towards her, a plastic evidence bag in either hand. “We find something?”

“Jackpot. The missing bullet — we think,” he said, holding one bag up higher. “Gotta get it to match the fourth casing. But it’s not damaged as bad as the others. Might be able to match it.”

“That’s—that’s promising—” Gia looked at the other bag, frowned. “And that?”

“Not really sure. But we told the techs to bag anything that wasn’t trash.” He lifted it. “We think it’s a—”

“Heel.” Gia took the bag, examined it more closely. “From a woman’s shoe. Where’d you find it?”

“Pathway from the gardens.”

We ran…

“Webber came in to the PCPD that night in sneakers. I figured she’d ditched her shoes because they had blood on it,” Caldwell continued, and Gia looked at him. “We should get a search warrant to match them—”

“It broke when she ran down to the boat house,” Gia said, and he frowned. “That’s what her statement said. What Michael Corinthos has always said. They heard the shot and ran. I’ve—” She looked back at the wooded path. “I’ve run in heels before. They break pretty easily if you put the wrong pressure on them. It snapped when they ran towards the gunshots.”

The agent didn’t respond, and she looked at him. “She’s not lying. None of them are.”

“We…we don’t know that.”

“Don’t we?” Gia handed the bag back, rubbed her forehead. “Process it. Prepare a report. And get a warrant for Webber’s house — but don’t—don’t serve it yet. Let me think about this.”

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