You never asked for trouble
But you’ve got fire that burns so bright
You turn and face the struggle
When all the others turn and hide
You hold your head above the waves
Above the war they try to wage
You are stronger than their hate
– In Your Shoes, Sarah McLachlan

---

Friday, September 19, 2003

Port Charles Hotel: Office

Elizabeth peered through the crack in the door that led from the back offices into the conference room set up to deliver a press conference. A podium had been set up at the front of the room with rows of chairs arranged facing it. Those chairs were filled with members of the Port Charles media, print and screen and even, she’d been told, an Internet blog.

Her friends and family were already sitting out there in the back row—Jason, Bobbie, Monica, Emily, Nikolas and Lucky filled one of the rows by themselves. She caught Jason’s eye, offered a him a smile meant to reassure him.

He hadn’t tried to stop her or talk her out of doing this, but Elizabeth knew putting herself out there like this made her a target in all sorts of ways. The announcement that she’d be giving a statement had hit the media the day before, and she and Jason had had to unplug their main line to stop it from ringing.

“We can stop this any time,” Ned said as Elizabeth closed the door and took a deep breath. “I can go out there, make excuses.” His eyes met hers, a concerned warm brown. “You don’t need to do this.”

She bit her lip, looked at Edward who was also planning to give a statement as to his involvement, then back to Ned. “No, maybe I don’t need to do this. But I want to. For Brooke. She can’t fight for herself anymore. It’s up to us.”

Ned touched her shoulder. “Okay.” He looked over at Olivia, talking last minute arrangements with Jax and Alexis. “All right, we’re ready.”

“Okay. I’ll go with you to check the sound one more time,” Alexis told Olivia as the two women opened the door and went into the conference room. When Alexis knocked to let them know everything was set up correctly, Ned opened the door for Elizabeth.

She went to one side of the podium and stood next to Edward, who put a hand on her shoulder. Ned stepped up to the microphone.

“Thank you for coming,” he began, as he set his prepared remarks on the podium. “I launched my campaign for mayor last month after the death of my daughter because I wanted women like her to be better protected by our police department and our justice system.”

He paused, his breath catching slightly as he looked down at his notes. After a moment, he looked back up at the crowd.

“I am a grieving father, angry at the world. When I learned just how devastating the failures of this city had been, I wanted to burn it to the ground. But I am just a grieving father. A bystander to all the women that Garrett Floyd ignored in his selfish pursuit of power.”

He paused again, looked at Elizabeth, who nodded. He looked back at the press. “So today, I think you should hear from one of those women.”

He stepped back as Elizabeth started forward, but Ned put his hand over the mike and whispered to her, “We can still stop this.”

“I can do this,” she reassured him. Ned removed his hand and went to stand next to his grandfather. Elizabeth stepped up to the microphone, Olivia moving in to adjust it slightly for her shorter stature.

“Good morning,” she said, flinching at the echoing sound of her own voice. She found Jason in the audience, focused on him.

“My name is Elizabeth Webber, but you already know that thanks to the tabloids and the newspapers that covered the kidnapping of Carly Corinthos and the physical assault I suffered at the hands of Ric Lansing due to the police department’s reckless disregard for my health and safety.” She paused. “I am not here to talk about that case today.”

The room started to buzz with whispers. Elizabeth knew they’d expected her to rail at the PCPD over her assault.

“On February 14, 1998, at the age of sixteen, I took a walk in the Port Charles park after dark.”

And now the room was eerily silent as she continued. “I was a silly girl who had told a lie about having a date to a dance, then was too embarrassed to admit the truth. So, I walked in the park, sat on a bench, and waited for time to pass.”

She found Lucky’s eyes, still full of deep regret as they both thought of the night that had changed their lives. “A man grabbed me from behind, threw me behind the bushes, and raped me.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “I didn’t go to the police. I couldn’t even tell my grandmother. But a friend found me in the park and took me home. His family gave me strength and support to get through the night. I didn’t want anyone to know. I couldn’t bear for anyone to look at me and know.

“I stayed in my room for days. Every man became the man who raped me. Even men I had felt safe to be around before that night—they terrified me.”

She paused to look around the room. It seemed less scary now, easier to keep talking. She looked down at her notes and kept going. “I went to the hospital a few days later and did a rape kit. They took pictures of my bruises and I gave them the dress I had been wearing. I eventually went to the police and for a long time, I felt grateful to Detectives Taggert and Garcia who handled my case. They were kind, but not hopeful. At the time I didn’t remember a lot of the details of my attack, couldn’t give a description, and I was told my rape kit could not be processed without a suspect.”

She gripped the edges of the podium as she continued to speak. “But that fall, we had a suspect. Tom Baker, who blackmailed Emily Quartermaine and held the both of us hostage in his photography studio. He said something that my attacker had, and I accused him of raping me. I was terrified, frozen, and he went along with my charge. He was arrested, and I thought—finally—finally, they’ll be able to investigate.”

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath as her breath caught. “But a month later, I was told that he couldn’t be prosecuted for my attack. That there wasn’t enough evidence. I was told that my rape kit had come back negative for any DNA and he was denying his confession.” She smiled bitterly. “I never doubted Detective Taggert’s word. He said my kit had been run, and now my case would be ruled inactive. Put into cold storage.”

She saw that Scott Baldwin had slid into an empty seat next to Bobbie and he gently nodded when they made eye contact. So, he had been Ned’s source. She’d wondered. “I thought the man responsible was in jail for what had happened to Emily Quartermaine and would be there for a long time. Not as long as we’d hoped, but he was gone. I put my life back together, I moved on. I put it behind me. And then this summer, the Herald told us a serial rapist was stalking the park.”

Her hands fisted at the podium.

“I didn’t…I didn’t let myself believe it was the same man. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t call, I didn’t ask. Even when I was asked by the family of the last young woman to speak to her about my own experience, I never once let myself believe we had been victimized by the same man. Because I assumed that the PCPD had taken care of me. Even after they had planted a story that put my life in danger, I still thought I could trust them.”

She sucked back a sob that tried to bubble up in her throat. “But I was wrong. The PCPD never ran my rape kit. If they had, if they had processed even one of the kits in cold storage, they would have known that the man stalking the park this year was not just my attacker, but that I was the first of at least seven women, beginning in February 1998 and continuing until this past July. All seven of us, including Brooke Lynn Ashton—we were all raped by the same man. A man that the police department continued to let wreak havoc because of budget woes and blind ambition.”

She looked at Lucky, who nodded, reminding her it was okay to tell them everything the PCPD had done. “For a week after Tom Baker was arrested on charges of kidnapping, stalking, and extortion, nothing happened in my rape case. He was never questioned, and my dress sat in evidence, untouched. Because Baker was charged with crimes that would put him away for twenty-five years to life, my case was deemed to be a waste of time and money for the department. A week after his arrest, Garrett Floyd and Mac Scorpio got the political cover they needed to ignore my case.”

Elizabeth glanced back at Edward and Ned who were both ashen, knowing what would come next. “Concerned for their family member, Ned Ashton and Edward Quartermaine called Mayor Floyd to make sure that they had everything they needed to put Baker away. And Floyd took that as an invitation to ignore anything that might derail or delay the trial. Including my case. When I disrupted the trial, accusing Baker of rape, Edward called Floyd again. And this time, Floyd and Scorpio made it official. They generated a false lab report stating my rape kit had returned negative results. Then my case was marked as solved, so it would no longer show up as an open case.”

The room exploded as that news sunk in — that the PCPD had unwittingly delayed the capture of a serial rapist, falsified official evidence, and had engaged in political corruption. She waited for the din to quiet down.

“If my case had been handled properly according to procedure, we would have known five years ago that Tom Baker did not rape me. I would not have had justice, but the women who came after me — the attacks in 1999 and 2000, the four in 2003 — they might have been avoided. If the rape kits for all rape cases were processed at the time of report, then we would have known four years ago that one man was raping women in the park. The DNA would have been on file in state and federal databases. But that did not happen. Because Mac Scorpio, Garrett Floyd, and the PCPD threw me away. I didn’t matter. Their bottom lines, their jobs, their needs mattered more than me and the public they’d sworn to protect.”

She looked at the back of the room where Taggert was standing, his eyes cast down. She didn’t know how long he’d been there, but she wasn’t in the mood to see him.

“They knew a serial rapist was haunting the park by the end of June, but they refused to tell the public. The commissioner warned his own daughters not to walk in the park, but no one warned Brooke Lynn Ashton. If we had known we were being hunted, do you think anyone would have walked there? Brooke Lynn would be alive today if the mayor and the commissioner hadn’t decided that women like us were expendable.”

Rage was now coursing through her veins, her chest rising more rapidly. “I was sixteen when I was raped, little more than a child. I was terrified to tell anyone, sure that the world would blame me. Because my family wasn’t wealthy and couldn’t deliver an election, Garrett Floyd threw me away. He could do that because that’s what this world does. It decides that women are less, that we can be forgotten, put away, disposed of because a man’s reputation, a man’s election somehow matters more than my right to walk in the park without fear, to have justice for the terror I was put through.”

She paused, the room silent. “Garrett Floyd wanted to be your mayor more than he wanted to serve the people. Mac Scorpio wanted to keep his job more than he wanted to protect the public. They don’t care about the people they’ve taken an oath to look after. I nearly died for their greed and ambition. Seven of us were ignored. One of us gone forever. I will fight for Brooke Lynn and for all the others that came after me because I will not let Garrett Floyd throw away one more woman. He got away with it once because I was nothing more than a little girl who didn’t know how to stand up and shout.”

She looked straight ahead at the WKPC television cameras she knew was carrying the conference live. “Little girls don’t stay little forever. They grow up and return to destroy your world. I am not going to be thrown away, and I will not stay silent. I am going to vote for Ned Ashton in a few weeks, and I hope that everyone listening will as well. This city deserves a change. I’m sorry I can’t take any questions.”

She stepped back from the podium as Ned put an arm around her shoulder, steadying her. “Are you okay? Do you need Bobbie or your doctor?” he asked as Edward stepped up to deliver his short and furious condemnation of Floyd’s actions.

“No.” She took a deep breath, was relieved when it came easily. She pressed her own fingers to her pulse and found it only a bit more rapid than usual. “I just want to go home. Do I have to stay—”

“Olivia—” Ned started to ask but Olivia was already taking Elizabeth by the elbow and steering her into the back room.

PCPD: Squad Room

Taggert had arrived at the hotel just after the press conference had begun, hoping to slip in and out without being noticed. But once Elizabeth’s incendiary statement had been delivered, he found himself all but chased down the street back to the PCPD, reporters and cameras at his heels.

In the squad room, he found a group of sullen officers gathered around the television set. “She dates a fucking criminal and we’re the bad guys,” Capelli muttered. Taggert shot him a dirty look.

“You’re wanted in the conference room,” Beaudry said with a grunt. “Floyd came in five minutes ago, grabbed Esposito by the scruff of his neck and hauled him in already. With your rookies.”

“Fantastic,” Taggert said with a roll of his eyes. He went down the hall to find the mayor in a fury as he berated the officers in front him.

“I want to know who the hell is leaking the confidential investigations in this office!” Floyd demanded, jabbing his fingers at the trio standing sullenly in a line. “You!” He barked at Dante who stared back at him with open hostility. “You grew up with the last one, didn’t you? Angry at the PCPD?”

“I don’t know,” Dante drawled, “probably not nearly as angry as you were when you leaked her name to the press, asshole.” His dark eyes were lit with fury. “The ‘last one’?  You piece of shit—”

Floyd’s face was almost florid in his rage. “You—you’re fired—”

“Can’t fire him,” Taggert said calmly as he shut down the door. “And if you got a problem with the officers under my command, you take it up with me.  Vinnie isn’t even on this case. I knew months ago something was wrong with the Webber case. I didn’t leak it, but I wish like hell I had.”

“You son of a bitch,” Floyd hissed. “You have screwed up this case from the beginning—you and this Brooklyn asshole—”

Vinnie snorted. “Oh, that he remembers about me,” the detective snarled, his accent thick. “But you don’t remember that I wasn’t even on the damn cases back then!”

“You were a patrol officer in this division!” Floyd gestured wildly. “Why didn’t you make the link?”

“Because even when we did make the link,” Taggert said, stepping in front of his officers. “You refused to let us do anything about it—”

“I said you couldn’t announce it!” Floyd retorted. “Not that you couldn’t investigate it—”

“No public warning, no extra patrols for the park—” Cruz rolled his eyes. “Sounds like not being able to investigate to me,” he told Dante.

Taggert’s mouth twitched—he so badly wanted to smile at the level of disrespect the rookies were showing the line of command. He shouldn’t—but maybe it meant they couldn’t be corrupted or bribed. “We’re working the cases as hard we as we can. You got more damage control to worry about anyway.”

“That’s why I’m here—” Floyd stabbed a finger at Vinnie. “I’ve recommended to the ethics board that Esposito be suspended for thirty days, pending termination for his negligence and public disregard for safety.”

“Fuck that shit!” Vinnie roared. “You’ll hear from my union rep!” He stormed out of the room.

Floyd smirked at Taggert and the rookies. “Careful, officers, or you’ll be next.”

He sauntered out of the room.

“He doesn’t get it, does he?” Dante asked, shaking his head. “He’s a dead man walking. Elizabeth Webber flayed him alive and all that’s left is his rotting corpse.”

“That just makes him more dangerous,” Taggert muttered.

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Bobbie went behind the counter, murmured something to Penny who had been managing in her absence, then looked at Lucky who took a seat in front of her. “Well.”

“Yeah, I’m not looking forward to work tomorrow.” Lucky rubbed the side of his face, exhausted already. “I got a voicemail from Cruz that Floyd went to the PCPD after the conference, accused Dante of being the leak, tried to fire him—and did manage to engineer Vinnie’s suspension. Which is bullshit because Vinnie’s a crappy cop, but this was a system clusterfuck, not just one person.”

“Yeah, well.” Bobbie sighed. “You said you had some questions about the case? I don’t know what I could offer you.”

Lucky explained that their theory about Elizabeth as the trigger victim and how they were trying to think of anyone who fit the profile and was part of her past. “It’s a huge pool of suspects, but Elizabeth thought maybe the regulars she had back then might be a place to start. She didn’t really remember any names or faces. Not after so much time, but we were wondering if Ruby would have kept something.”

“Well, we have the tax records for the rooms we rented going back to about, oh, ‘94, I think. I can check that.” Bobbie pursed her lips. “I have a few boxes of paperwork your aunt left behind that I really don’t know anything about. Ruby kept track of unpaid tabs — she might not have thrown them out once it was paid off. I wasn’t paying a lot of attention to Kelly’s when she was here.” Bobbie’s smile was sad. “Didn’t really need to, you know?”

“Yeah, Ruby always made it look easy.”

“I might even have some of her journals. I could pull out what I have when I get home.” Bobbie shook her head as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “It just seems wrong that Elizabeth could have known the guy. Wouldn’t they have done this—” She stopped, shook her head. “We can’t assume anything. Not knowing what we know now.”

“To be honest, Aunt Bobbie, having looked at Elizabeth’s file — Garcia didn’t do anything with Elizabeth’s case. They didn’t look at the crime scene. Didn’t interview anyone in Elizabeth’s life. They seemed to assume it was a stranger rape and moved on. By the time Taggert got assigned it, it was pretty cold.” Lucky shook his head. “But that seems to the way the PCPD operated. Doing the bare minimum.”

“Well, I hope Ned winning in a few weeks will start changing things. I’ll go through Ruby’s things and see if I can’t give you something to help.”

“Thanks—” Lucky stopped, took out his buzzing cell phone. “Hey.”

“Hey. I saw the press conference,” Kelsey said. “The phones are ringing off the hook at the office—do you think Scott is the one that told Liz?”

“Maybe,” Lucky allowed. “I knew she had a lot of the details from someone in a position to know. If the Quartermaines admitted making the call, then someone had to have tipped off Ned Ashton.”

“Yeah.” Kelsey sighed. “Yeah, she was already asking questions, so I’m glad she knows. You okay?”

“As okay as I can be. Will the DA’s office get out of this without a lot of heat?”

“We might be okay. Different DA, former ADA not working here anymore—” She paused. “Will you come by after I’m done work?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you tonight.”

Lucky hung up the phone to find his aunt smiling at him. “What?”

“Nothing. Your voice—” Bobbie sighed, her eyes a bit brighter. “It changes when you talk to her. Did you know that?”

“No, but—” He shrugged. “I gotta get going. I have a shift at the club. Call me if you find anything in Aunt Ruby’s records.” He kissed her cheek, then left.

Scorpio House: Living Room

 

When Edward Quartermaine’s face faded from the screen, Felicia picked up the remote and silently switched off the television. On the other sofa, Georgie was crying, Maxie was sitting silently, staring straight ahead. Next to her, Mac was pale, his eyes looking down.

“Is this what you were talking about when I came home in July?” she asked softly. “When you told me Floyd had pushed you on this case?”

“I—”

“Why?” Georgie said, with a sob. “Why would she say those things? Tell them that Floyd made you do it, Dad!”

“How could he make him do anything?” Maxie looked at her stepfather. “He tells you to do something, you tell him to go to hell. It’s not hard. I say it to you all the time.”

“Girls—”

“Don’t start acting like we’re kids and can’t handle this,” Maxie said. She got to her feet and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I’m an adult. I was there the night Brooke got attacked. I’ve watched Dillon tear himself apart. Kyle and Lucas drowned themselves in guilt. Georgie broke up with Dillon because she was defending you—”

“Because you didn’t have a choice,” Georgie said to him, but even her own conviction was fading. Her voice trembled. “He made you do it.”

“You always have a choice,” Mac said after a long moment. “I didn’t have a good choice. Elizabeth is right. We didn’t immediately investigate after he was arrested. I should have. But I was concentrating on the Quartermaine part of the case, and I didn’t—I wasn’t aware of the rape charges until Floyd called me. But I should have known it.”

“Why wouldn’t Taggert have gone after him—” Felicia pressed her lips together. “Is she right? Did you weigh the odds? Twenty-five to life? Why waste time on a dubious rape charge when you could just sit back, do nothing, and get the same result?”

“I thought he was guilty,” Mac said, numbly. “At first it didn’t seem like a big deal. Until I realized we were lying to Elizabeth. Until Edward called and—I had a choice, Georgie,” he told his youngest step-daughter painfully. “You always have a choice,” he repeated.

“Then why?” Maxie demanded, her voice ending on a wail. “Why did you do this? Why did you let him keep hurting women and why is Brooke dead because of it? Why?”

“Because I didn’t want to lose my job,” Mac said. And damned if that felt like a shitty excuse. “We had the Outback and it was already failing at that point—if I’d lost that income—”

“And it wasn’t like I was making a lot from my work as a private investigator,” Felicia said, with a slow exhale. “And you had the guy’s confession. So, you buried her case to keep your job and support us.”

Georgie sniffled and looked away from them. “I have to go call Dillon. I have to—I have to apologize.” She rushed away, her feet pounding on the stairs.

Maxie stayed for another minute. “You always have a choice,” she repeated. “And yeah, I guess that was a terrible choice. What about this summer, Dad? When you chose to warn me and Georgie, but didn’t make it sound so bad that we told anyone else? How do you think it makes me feel that your choice helped put Brooke in that park?”

“I will never be able to forgive myself—”

“Good. You shouldn’t.”

Without another word, Maxie stalked out the front door, slamming it shut behind her. Mac shook his head, looked to Felicia. “I—”

“You put the needs of your family above those of the people you were supposed to protect.” Felicia offered him a wistful smile. “You think you’re the only person in the world who has ever been selfish? Who’s ever sacrificed one person to save himself?”

“The girls—they’re in college. The Outback is long gone. We didn’t—I couldn’t—”

“The girls are my responsibility,” Felicia told him. “And I’m grateful for the help you’ve given us. The stability you’ve given them. But please, don’t ever use them as a reason not to do the right thing.” She shook her head. “I told myself that whatever was bothering you—I could deal with it. I wasn’t a good wife to you. I depended on you too much. I made my girls your problem to fix. And that’s my fault. But I’m not sure—”

She met his eyes, sighed. “I don’t know, Mac. I just don’t understand how you could have done this. We knew Elizabeth Webber. Steve and Audrey were so good to me. She was at our wedding—she caught my bouquet. And six months later, you put her on a shelf like she was nothing. I get it—you thought the guy was guilty. And if you’d actually investigated the case, maybe you’d have been right. Maybe there wouldn’t have been evidence.”

“I—”

“And it’s hard to blame you for that choice now—because how could you have known that animal would go on to rape six more women? But that’s why you do the job right the first time. So, you can look back and tell yourself—I did everything I should have.” Felicia rubbed the back of her neck. “You haven’t resigned.”

“I offered a few times, but Floyd refused to take it. Now, I think he’ll either have to fire me or—if Ned wins, I want him to fire me. It won’t bring back his daughter, but if it gives him a moment of peace—” Mac sighed, looked away. “I owe him that. At the very least. I’m sorry, Felicia.”

“You’re a good man, Mac, who made a mistake.” She reached up to kiss his cheek. “We’ll get through this.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

 Elizabeth was exhausted by the time they got home that afternoon. She dropped her purse on the desk, kicked her shoes off, and sat on the sofa with a huff. She closed her eyes and extended her arm, expecting Jason to check her pulse.

He didn’t put his fingers on her wrist but took her hand and pressed it to his chest as he sat next to her. She opened her eyes, looked at him suspiciously. “You’re not checking my vitals?”

“I will. But I just wanted to tell you that I love you.”

She smiled, sat up. “I love you, too.”

“You terrify me,” he admitted. “With your fearlessness, your courage—you declared war on the PCPD, the mayor, and the man who did this to all of you. And you did it by reminding everyone who matters here. Not the election. Not the men who screwed up the case. But you. And Brooke Lynn. And the other women.”

“Someone had to,” Elizabeth murmured. “He’s still out there, Jason. And if Lucky is right, he’s still attacking women who look like me. Every time he rapes someone, he’s raping me again in his mind.” Her voice trembled slightly. “Part of me is a little…a lot…scared that standing up there—reminding him I exist—showing him that he didn’t destroy me—”

“He’ll want to come after you.” Jason nodded, his fingers sliding over her smooth skin of her inner arm. “Yeah, I thought about that, too.”

“But I couldn’t hide. I can’t hide. I won’t live my life in fear. Not ever again. I wouldn’t let him break me five years ago.” Elizabeth turned her hand so that she was the one clutching his hand, squeezing it. “I wouldn’t let Ric Lansing break me. I won’t let him be the thing I think about for eight months, worrying about what he did to me or if it’ll cost me my life or my child’s. And I won’t let my rapist drive me to fear either. I run my life. Not them.”

He leaned forward, brushed his lips over hers. “I love you,” he murmured again.

“I love you, too.” She managed a smile for him as he drew back. “Now. Let’s check my vitals and talk about the security I’m sure you want to add.”

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