Underdog, just look at the mess you’ve made
It’s such a shame, a shame
We had to find out this way
Revenge loves company, three makes it a crowd
So wash your mouth, sit this one out
– Underdog, You Me At Six

---

Monday, September 15, 2003

PCPD: Squad Room

Lucky stepped quickly to one side as Vinnie Esposito stormed out of the squad room, letting the heavy doors slam against the wall in his haste. Lucky pressed his lips together, shook his head, then continued towards Taggert’s desk where the lieutenant was hunched over a pile of paperwork, irritation etched into his features.

“What’s wrong with Vinnie?” Lucky asked, taking a seat next to the desk.

“Floyd has filed an official complaint against him,” Taggert muttered. “Dereliction of duty in not making the link between our seven cases.” He scowled, slammed a folder shut. “He’s making Vinnie the scapegoat. He wasn’t even the investigating officer on the first three cases.”

“Then—”

“He was a patrol officer assigned to the Major Crimes unit back then. Floyd’s argument is that if Vinnie was any good at his job, he should have seen the connection.” He looked at Lucky. “He’s not wrong. I know what you’re thinking.”

Lucky shifted uncomfortably. It was one thing to condemn Vinnie in the back room at Luke’s with his friends and girlfriend, but Taggert was their commanding officer. “I mean, the cases weren’t on the computer and as a patrol officer, no, we don’t really get to see a lot of the cases the investigating officers do. If they don’t bring us in—” He hesitated. “He wasn’t assigned to Elizabeth’s case. I—I don’t remember him being there when we came in—”

“Not the Webber case, no. Garcia handled that personally, then I took it over. There wasn’t a lot of leg work to do on the case.” Taggert grimaced. “But Vinnie was the first officer on scene for both Lopez and Logan. But then he moved, and both cases were cold for almost three years. I don’t know. Another cop might have seen it—”

“I’m not defending him,” Lucky said. “But even if he had linked the cases, what good would it have done? You saw what Floyd did when you did link them.” He shook his head. “He treated the victims like crap, and that sucks. Because it meant they weren’t eager to cooperate. But at the end of the day, if their statements had been better, if he had linked the cases—it still would have landed on Floyd and Mac.”

“Yeah.” He eyed Lucky. “Kelsey left me a message. Said you had something you wanted to run by me.” When Lucky scowled, Taggert grinned slightly. “She said she thought you might not be comfortable bringing it up yourself and wanted to make sure you did.”

Lucky would have to talk to her about that, but he didn’t have a lot of choice now.  “Yeah, we—Dante, Cruz, me, and Kelsey—we were going over the victim statements.” He swallowed hard. “And I was thinking about Elizabeth’s.”

“Listen—I know that must have been hard for you read,” Taggert began but Lucky shook his head.

“It’s not—I can’t change anything. I can’t make myself get to the park faster or not—I can’t change it,” he repeated. “But the thing about the handcuffs…Elizabeth never remembered that while we were investigating ourselves. She remembered the soap, remembered the words, but not the handcuffs or the hair. So, I never knew any of that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The other victims — they’re all pretty clear on how it happened. They got grabbed, they got thrown to the ground, punched in the face, then flipped and handcuffed. It was a routine for him by the time—” Lucky’s stomach rolled. “By the time he got to Wendy Morris and Brooke Ashton.”

“But not with Elizabeth.” Taggert pulled out her case file, pulled out her statement. “He threw her to the ground, slapped her, took off her coat. Elizabeth was probably fighting him, he took her hands—but yeah, I see it now. Handcuffing wasn’t his first move. So that’s something he realized would work after that attack.”

“Which, one, makes it more likely she’s the first victim,” Lucky told him, “and two—”

“Why did he have handcuffs?” Taggert finished. He exhaled slowly. “You don’t think—”

“I’m not saying it was a cop,” Lucky said with a shake of his head. “I’m just…I’m remembering that the businesses around the park were dealing with a bunch of thefts and burglaries. A bunch of places hired private security—”

“Who might have had handcuffs.” Taggert sat back in his chair. “I remember that. A bunch of teenagers breaking into places, vandalizing. We never caught them, but they hired a bunch of their own guys. We could only spare officers for Central Avenue—” He nodded. “It’s a hunch, but I think you might be right. I think the handcuffs were a spur of the moment thing. But why don’t you think it was a cop?”

“’I—” Lucky pressed his lips together. “I guess there’s no reason it can’t be. I just don’t want it to be.”

“Fair enough. But we can’t rule it out. So why don’t you, Dante, and Cruz tackle the security firms. Get a list of the companies used. Run down their employees. I’ll look at the other angle.”

“I could—”

“I can do it more quietly than you can,” Taggert said as they both stood up. “I doubt that’s what we’re looking at, but I’m not ruling it out either.”

Lucky managed a tight smile as he left Taggert’s desk and went to the desk he, Dante, and Cruz shared. He dialed into his voice messages and was surprised when he picked up one from Elizabeth, asking him to lunch that day at Kelly’s.

He thought about ducking, not sure he was ready to face her after reading the details of her statement, but instead, he picked up the phone to accept.

Quartermaine Estate: Family Room

It took two more days before Ned had the energy to take on his family and tell Edward Quartermaine exactly what their pressure on Garrett Floyd five years earlier had ultimately cost this family.

He found his grandfather lingering over his coffee at the breakfast table with Monica as she read the newspaper. Edward looked up at his entrance, furrowing his brow. “Ned. This is a surprise. I thought you’d be locked up with Jax and Alexis preparing for the debate next week.”

“I’m not worried about the debate,” Ned said as he joined them at the table. “Good morning, Monica.”

“Ned.” She tilted her head. “What’s wrong?”

“I had a source leak some information he thought might be useful against Floyd.” Ned picked up a silver spoon, twirled it in his fingers. “You remember Tom Baker?”

“The lunatic that went after Emily and her friends?” Edward set his coffee down. “I know he’s up for parole in December. I already made calls to scuttle that. He’ll serve the full fifteen years if I have anything to say about it. It’s the least I can do for poor Elizabeth Webber—” He frowned. “How does Baker help you with the election?”

“You had me call Floyd back then,” Ned reminded him. He looked at Monica. “The case was airtight, and we wanted him to go away for good. Twenty-five years before parole was even an option. There was a chance he might try to squiggle around the kidnapping charges, and we didn’t want that.”

“I remember,” Monica murmured. “Emily was adamant that he go to trial. She wanted to face him the way Elizabeth had. But…”

“I told Floyd to get it done. Whatever he had to do.” Ned took a deep breath. “We never knew about the charges of rape. Emily didn’t tell us. At least not me or Grandfather.”

“No, she told me,” Monica said as her hand fisted next to her plate. “She told me, and I think she might have told Jason. What does—”

“What did he do?” Edward demanded.

“About a month after the kidnapping, Taggert told Elizabeth that the case was being ruled inactive. That the rape kit had come back negative. There wasn’t enough evidence against Baker, so they were going after him on the kidnapping. She was upset at the trial—”

“And we called back.” His grandfather suddenly looked very old. “But Mac told us there wasn’t enough evidence. Ned, what did Floyd do?”

“They never ran the rape kit, did they?” Monica murmured. “I remember Emily talking about it when the story hit the newspapers—about not running the kits until there was a suspect. She said that’s what happened to Elizabeth. But I know that lab work can take up to six weeks, if not longer. If Taggert knew a month after the kidnapping—that’s barely enough time—”

“The PCPD never investigated Elizabeth’s accusation against Baker at all?” Edward roared as he got to his feet. “I demanded they get her justice—I—” He looked at Monica, almost helplessly. “I never—Steve and Audrey’s granddaughter—”

“We leaned on him to make sure Emily’s case stayed on his radar. I never thought he’d throw away another case to get it done. And when the Baker case had the mistrial, he probably forced Dara Jensen to make a deal. To make it go away.”

“I can see how this might damage Floyd’s credibility,” Monica said slowly, “but—” And then Ned saw the news hit her. Sink in. She closed her eyes. “Oh my God.”

“What?” Edward demanded. “What—” He looked to Ned. “He never ran the rape kit. He closed her case—but Baker confessed—” He sank back into his chair. “Didn’t he?”

“The running theory is that Elizabeth gave him an opening and he lied to her to control her. To scare her. But no. Her kit was run this summer as part of the investigation. And she is now the earliest known victim of the same man who killed my daughter.”

Monica stifled a sob, her hands over her mouth as tears slid down her cheeks. “No, no. No. Not the same man. Not the same. All this time—”

“How many women?” Edward asked, more quietly now. “How many women in total?”

“That we know about? Seven, including Elizabeth and Brooke. They’re the first and last known victims. But there’s a two-year gap. He could have moved around. He could have killed the other victims. We might never know how many there are.” Ned absently rubbed his chest. “The pressure we put on Floyd five years ago…we can directly link it to this summer and my daughter’s death.”

“We couldn’t have—” Edward gestured helplessly. “We couldn’t have known. I tried to get her—” He looked at Monica. “I tried to get her justice, Monica. For her and for Emily. I tried.  I only wanted that man to pay.”

“And the best I can say about everyone involved is we all thought Baker was guilty. He’d confessed, hadn’t he? Mac and Taggert believed him.” Ned shook his head. “But we were wrong. And we would have known that if Mac had run the kit.”

“This—this isn’t like him. Floyd must have something on him—threatened his job. Mac has a family—he was putting Robin through college. He had Felicia’s girls—” Monica took a deep breath. “But he should have said something.”

“Does Elizabeth know what happened?” Edward asked, looked at his grandson. “Does Jason? Or Emily?”

“I don’t know about Emily, but I went to Jason and Elizabeth on Saturday. After everything the media put my daughter through a few months ago, I would have—I never would have said a word without her blessing.”

“I have to talk to her. To see them.” Edward looked at Monica. “I have to make sure she knows I never meant—”

“She knows, Grandfather,” Ned said, reaching over to touch his forearm. “I promise that. But I’m sure she wouldn’t mind hearing it from you directly.”

“Did she give permission to go public?” Monica asked, leaning forward.

“She’s thinking it over,” Ned admitted. “She wants it out there, she’s just not sure how involved she wants to be. There—” He looked at Monica who briefly nodded. “She’s still recovering from her embolism this summer. So, she’s considering her options. There’s more, Grandfather. But it’s separate from Elizabeth’s case. My source—he suspects that there were two leaks after Brooke’s attack.”

“I thought the same,” his grandfather admitted. “The first round was just the attacks—the ones from this year, but then a few hours later, Brooke’s name was in the tabloids.”

“Sc—my source thinks the first leak was from inside the department—someone angry at the inaction, at the lack of public warning. And he thinks that as soon as the first wave of calls came in, Floyd leaked Brooke’s name to turn some of the spotlight off him.”

“That son of a bitch,” Edward breathed. “He won’t live until the election. Mark my words. I will—” He scowled. “Can we prove it? Because I will—”

“Not yet,” Ned told him. “But I will. Because once we go public with this, he’ll need a miracle to win this election.”

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Elizabeth set her bag on the table and took a seat across from Lucky. “Thanks for meeting with me.”

“Of course.” He shifted in his chair. “I’m sorry. I meant to call you a few times over the last few months, but I just—after Brooke and everything else.” He looked away.

Lucas Jones came over to take their order, but she only asked for a water while Lucky asked for his usual lunch special. “I guess you heard I gave a statement.”

“I’m on the case, so I read it.” Lucky stared down at the table. “I—I guess a lot of it came back after all.” He looked up at her. “I know it’s not my fault, but I just—”

“When I think of what I know now the other women went through—most of them ended up in the hospital.” Elizabeth sighed, folded her arms on the table. “I think maybe he would have raped me again or beaten me. Either way, you’re the reason the attack ended. So, thank you for looking for me that night. If you hadn’t found me, if I hadn’t had you, your father, or Bobbie, I don’t know if I could have kept myself together.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Taggert wouldn’t tell me how long my case had been open again—and he certainly refused to tell me anything about why my negative rape kit suddenly cleared Baker.” Elizabeth stared at him. “So, what I want to know, Lucky, is how long did you know that the mayor and Mac covered my case up and made me disappear?”

Before he could answer, Lucas returned with their drink orders, then disappeared, giving Lucky a minute to gather his thoughts.

“How long have I known for sure?” Lucky asked. “I still don’t. The official department stance is there was a clerical error. But I suspected it when we first got sent down to cold storage. Just after Brooke died. We found the later two cases—but not yours. I knew something was wrong, so we went over to the closed storage. I thought—honestly, I wanted to believe it was a mistake. Your case wasn’t technically solved, but we all thought the guy responsible was away.”

“So, it’s been two months of the PCPD trying to cover their asses. Again.” Elizabeth pursed her lips. Nodded. “I get that we’re never going to be close again, Lucky, but I would have thought after everything we’ve been through, I merited a little more loyalty than some job you just started—”

“I wanted to tell you,” Lucky hissed. He grimaced. “I wanted to. But what could I say? Your case got royally fucked up either through outright corruption or just plain negligence? You were barely out of the hospital, and I knew you were recovering. I didn’t even know if we’d be able to open your case officially. If we’d get enough evidence. I watched you put yourself back together, Elizabeth. There was no way in hell I was going to rip your life apart over a maybe.”

“I guess you’re right,” Elizabeth said finally. “What good would it have done for me to know my case was reopened if my kit did actually come back negative this time.” She rubbed her head. “And it’s not like the PCPD knew that Baker had sent me that letter. Jason and I didn’t come forward about that, either. He left a message on the hotline, he told me later, but we all could have been more up front.”

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth.” Lucky shook his head. “How did you find out about Floyd and Mac? Kelsey and I thought—we theorized, but you’re saying it like it’s a fact.”

“Someone in the position to know told Ned Ashton who has reasons for knowing it’s true,” Elizabeth told him. “But that stays between us, do you understand? Because I haven’t decided what I’m going to do about it, and Ned deserves the chance to make Floyd’s life a living hell.”

“I agree.” Lucky leaned forward, lowering his voice slightly. “But Ned knows. Good. I hope whoever told him got all the details right so he can win in November. What does he want to do with it?”

“He’s not sure either. He doesn’t want to inflict any more stress on me after what Brooke went through when her name got leaked.” Elizabeth pursed her lips and looked away, through the window of Kelly’s. “I could let Ned issue a statement. Refuse comment. I could do the least. I deserve to put this behind me. This doesn’t have to be my fight. And I’ve spent a lot of time fighting other people’s wars. I’ve put my life on the line too many times.”

Knowing what she went through because of the Cassadines, because of Ric Lansing, Lucky nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

“But I also remember that night—you didn’t have to make me your fight either.” Elizabeth focused on him. “You could have taken me to the hospital. Called the cops. But you didn’t. You listened to me, you got me help I could live with. And Bobbie was a godsend. But you didn’t have to keep worrying about me.”

“How could I have looked away—”

“Because that’s not who your mother raised you to be,” Elizabeth gently. “And that’s maybe why you’ll make a good cop. I never would have picked this for you, but I hope it makes you happy. Because the girl who crawled out the snow? She never would have picked herself up if you hadn’t been there to hold out a hand.”

“Maybe,” Lucky allowed. “But I know you, Elizabeth. Lizzie,” he teased as she laughed. “The girl I knew before that night—little annoying Lizzie Webber? She got scared. But she wouldn’t have stayed scared for long. I was there to hold out a hand, but the girl I fell in love with? She would have clawed her way back to the surface eventually.”

Elizabeth smiled, nodding. “Yeah. Maybe she would have. You know, I blamed Lizzie a lot for that night. I always tell myself not to listen to the Lizzie voice. It always got me in trouble. She made my life a living hell a lot of the time. But I am Lizzie. That’s just the voice reminding me that it’s okay to step out and take a chance. This whole thing—this investigation? It doesn’t have to be my fight. But I’m going to make it mine. Because Brooke isn’t here anymore. And there are so many other women—even men—so many people who get sexually assaulted, raped, beaten—they get thrown away. And honestly? There aren’t enough people picking the fight.”

Baldwin Home: Living Room

Bobbie gingerly set her purse down on Scott’s coffee table and eyed him as he took a seat across from her. “Are you sure this is okay? Serena won’t be coming home? This might take a while—”

“She’s on a trip with Lucy and Kevin looking at colleges.” Scott rolled his shoulders. “I wanted to go, but I think I need to be in town this week. I think some shit is going to hit the fan in the park rapist case, and well, Serena isn’t going to listen to me about anything anyway.”

“Teenagers rarely do.” Bobbie folded her hands in her lap. “You said you were able to avoid turning over any evidence of Sonny’s breakdown.”

“Yeah, I got a lucky break. A judge quashed the subpoena.” Scott leaned back, stretching his arm across the back of the sofa. “Is that what you were worried about?”

“Yes. No.” Bobbie hesitated. “You probably know Carly is staying with me right now.”

“I did. She called me in case I needed to get in touch about the case.” Scott shook his head. “I’m sorry she’s having trouble with Sonny, but I’m not sorry she’s thinking about walking away.”

“The thing is—” she bit her lip. “She’ll be angry that I’m here, and I’m prepared for that. Because I think—I think I need to force his hand. She left because he’s—he’s not well. I mean, that’s not why she left. But it’s part of everything.”

Scott frowned at her. “Bobbie, I told you, Sonny’s mental health isn’t going to be part of the case—”

“But maybe it should be,” she argued. “I don’t know—I don’t know. Maybe what’s wrong with him is genetic. Maybe it explains Ric. But I just—he fell apart after Carly got kidnapped. Courtney called the PCPD, they were searching the penthouse, and Sonny—I’m not sure exactly when it started but by that Friday—the day before we found Carly, he’d lost it.”

“Lost it,” Scott repeated. “Bobbie—”

“Jason and I were going over what we knew at his place. We were both desperate, at the end of our rope, you know? And Courtney rushed in because Sonny was having hallucinations. He thought he saw Lily. He thought Lily was in the room with him, blaming him for her death, for what happened to Carly—”

“He hallucinated his dead wife.” Scott exhaled slowly. “You said you didn’t know when it started?”

“Jason said the last time he’d talked to Sonny was Tuesday—that by then, Sonny was already not taking visitors. Not dealing with business. He was drinking heavily. He was already fraying at the edges. And Jason—he was under a lot of pressure with looking for Carly and worrying about Elizabeth. When Sonny had his hallucinations—I saw them, Scott. I saw him talking to Lily. Telling me what Lily was saying.  We had to sedate him.”

She pressed her lips together. “I don’t know if you can even do anything, but I can’t sit idly by, knowing my daughter, my grandchildren—that they’re in a home with a mentally ill man who knows he has these breakdowns and refuses to get help.”

Scott rubbed his hands over his face. “Bobbie. C’mon. You know what Sonny would think if he knew you were telling me this—what your daughter would think—”

“They’ll be angry with me. Sonny might never forgive me,” Bobbie admitted. “But I can live with that. Because I can’t lose another daughter, Scott. You know what I’m talking about. If not for Jason, I don’t know what would have happened to Carly this summer. Elizabeth would probably be dead. Sonny was useless.”

“And it’s not like the PCPD was making any headway,” Scott muttered. “Yeah, okay. I don’t—there’s no way this is relevant to the Lansing case. At least not now. And I’m under no obligation to tell him anything now that the judge said go to hell. But I get it, Bobbie. You see your daughter in trouble and you’re desperate to help her.”

Grief lined his face as he sat back. “You know, Karen got her life together. She moved on. She lived, she loved, and then she died. In a senseless car accident.” He shook his head. “But I’ve never forgiven Sonny Corinthos for what he did to her.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know if I can help you with this, Bobbie. Not legally. But if you need me—” he leaned forward again, his voice intent. “I will be here for you. Whatever you need. In fact, because you deserve to know—there’s something you ought to know. Elizabeth might have already told you, but—”

He told her about Floyd and Mac covering up Elizabeth’s rape case and making it go away, and the pressure they’d been under from the Quartermaines. Bobbie exhaled slowly after he’d finished.

“Lucky has suspected for a while,” she admitted. “He told me a few days ago what he thought happened.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what I meant about the rape case coming to a head because I—I told Ned Ashton. And he’s getting together with Elizabeth to figure out exactly how to go public with it all.”

Bobbie lifted a brow. “Really? I—I wouldn’t have thought—”

“After everything he’s been through because of this town—I’m a father, too. I couldn’t let it happen again. I couldn’t let it keep happening. And I feel like hell about what happened to Elizabeth.”  He shook his head. “Elizabeth didn’t deserve what happened to her.  All of those women deserved better from us. The least I could do was make sure Garrett Floyd is never in a position to hurt anyone else.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason placed the phone back on the receiver as he shook his head and looked over at Elizabeth sitting on the sofa, studying a cookbook like there was going to be a test. “Monica’s here. With Edward.”

Elizabeth blinked up at him, her brow furrowing. “I guess the trend of unexpected visitors continues.” She closed the book and set it on the coffee table. “But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Ned said he’d talk to him this week.”

“Yeah.” He shook his head, still not wild that all of this was happening at a time when Elizabeth needed to be concentrating on herself, putting her health first. But she’d allowed him to take her pulse every time he’d asked, and her blood pressure had remained stable.

She was stronger than she looked, and he guessed he’d eventually be able to let go of the gnawing fear that if he took his eyes off her for a single second—He’d left her alone in that house, and he’d returned to find her nearly dead. It was probably going to take a while to forget it.

It was probably the first time Edward Quartermaine had been inside this penthouse since Jason had moved in, and part of Jason wasn’t entirely comfortable letting him in at all. If Monica wasn’t with him—

“Thank you for seeing us,” Monica said as Jason closed the door behind them. She looked at him sadly before looking at Elizabeth who had gotten to her feet. “I’m sorry it’s late, but Edward waited for me to be done at the hospital.”

“I—” Edward just looked at Elizabeth and shook his head. “Ned told us today—and I just—” He shook his head again. “I have nothing to say. I thought—this is my fault.”

“No,” Elizabeth said quickly. She touched Edward’s elbow. “Of course it’s not. I told Ned that as well. I knew how upset your family was after what happened in the studio.  I’m not at all surprised you made phone calls to make sure no one got away with what happened.”

“I just—I didn’t know.” Edward allowed Elizabeth to lead him to the sofa. “After—when I did know, I tried to make them investigate—”

“Ned told us,” Jason said, roughly, visibly affected by the old man’s anguish. “Mac gave you the same lie he gave to Elizabeth. They buried her case because they thought Baker was guilty.”

“But if they’d run the kit,” Monica said tightly, shaking her head. “If they’d run all of those poor women’s kits, Brooke—”

“I’ll never be able to forgive myself,” Edward murmured. “All my life I’ve used my name to push what I wanted, what I thought my family needed—”

“They were never going to investigate Baker,” Elizabeth told Edward gently. She took his hand in hers. “Because they still could have run my kit. The day he was arrested, they knew he was a suspect. When did you call? When did Ned contact Floyd?”

“Almost a week later—” Edward nodded. “I see what you mean.”

“They knew Baker was going down for the kidnapping. They thought the case was airtight. Why go to the trouble of investigating my case, spending time and money when they didn’t need the charges? They put my case with the solved ones, not to bury it, Edward, but because that’s what they thought. My case wasn’t legally over, but it never would have come off that shelf.”

And this gave her some sense of peace. Nothing she’d done could have changed what happened. If she’d reported right away, if she’d had a rape kit done that night instead a few days later—none of that would have changed the fact the PCPD was always going to take the easy way out.

“You deserved better than that. Brooke deserved better.” Edward got to his feet, looked at Jason. “This is what drove you away. The way I used the Quartermaine name to control the family.”

Jason shifted his eyes away, didn’t know how to answer that. “Part of the reason,” he finally said. “But I agree with Elizabeth. Based on the timing, I don’t think they were ever going to look into Baker. Your call just gave them the excuse they needed. Mac had already made the decision even if he didn’t know it yet.”

“Ned said you were thinking about how involved you wanted to be in all of this,” Monica said, looking at Elizabeth.

“I wasn’t sure,” Elizabeth admitted. She looked at Edward and bit her lip. “It turns out I’m pregnant and I’ve been ordered to avoid stress.”

Edward’s eyes lit up with pure joy, and she was relieved the news had been enough to shake him out of his doldrums a bit. “Really?”

“Thanks to Enduro condoms,” Monica said, sweetly. Edward shot her a glare, then returned his attention to Elizabeth.

“That’s wonderful news, my dear. And if I could share it with Lila—” When Elizabeth grinned, Edward wagged a finger at her. “Oh, I see. She already knows. Am I the last?”

“Very nearly,” Jason muttered.

But Edward ignored him. “This is very good news,” he repeated. “And you shouldn’t do anything that puts this sweet baby at risk.”

“I won’t. I’m following the doctor’s orders to the letter. Jason takes my blood pressure in the morning and at night. And I let him check my pulse every time he asks.”

Monica smirked. “Every hour on the hour?” she asked her son.

“No,” Jason said. He looked away. “Every other hour.”  She patted his arm.

“And my health—my baby—that is my first priority. But I can’t ignore—I can’t ignore that for years, no one has taken these cases seriously. And Brooke’s last—I was her last call. I was the last person to hear her voice.” Her voice broke suddenly, and she squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath. “She’s not here, so someone needs to stand up for her. This happened to me. I’m the one they threw away. I’m the one they sacrificed. So—”

She looked at Jason, then back at Edward. “Call Ned. We’ll do this right. I want to hold a hold a press conference where I tell everyone exactly what the PCPD did to me and what ended up happening to all the women who came after. I’m not that weak little girl anymore, and it’s time to make people pay for throwing us all away.”

You tell me it gets better, it gets better in time
You say I’ll pull myself together, pull it together
You’ll be fine
Tell me what the hell do you know
What do you know
Tell me how the hell could you know
How could you know
– Til It Happens To You, Lady Gaga

---

Sunday, September 14, 2003

PCPD: Conference Room

Kelsey lifted her brows in surprise as Taggert set down the phone. “Did I hear you right? Jason Morgan is on his way up with Elizabeth Webber?”

“I’m not sure he’s ever come here voluntarily, much less without representation,” Taggert admitted. They both got to their feet when the door opened, and Elizabeth and Jason were led in.

Once they were settled, Elizabeth let out a shaky breath. It wasn’t the same room—the old PCPD had burned down the year previous. They weren’t even in an interrogation room. It wouldn’t be like before.

“Let me tell you a few things before we get started,” Taggert told her. “When you gave your statement the first time, it was still early in your investigation. To be honest, none of us working here had much more than rudimentary training for dealing with these kinds of crimes.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Is that to explain what happened with my rape kit?” she asked. “The mistakes made?”

“I meant…” Taggert paused. “There are things we could have done differently. For example, you came in a few times to add to your statement, but we never took you through it all the way again. All the workshops say witnesses remember more details in these kinds of crimes after some time—”

“Because we’re still processing it,” Elizabeth nodded. When he frowned at her, she shrugged. “I’ve had therapy, Taggert. It’s kind of like your workshops. I stopped going after that fire at the garage, but Gail and I worked out a lot of things I never thought I’d remember.”

“That’s why I need you to go through it from the top,” he said. I’m not asking to torture you or be cruel. But we’ve taken all the—” he hesitated.

“You’re trying so hard not to say victims.” And the consideration of that…it relaxed her slightly. “I was a victim. I’m not now. But we all were, and I know that’s also a legal term. You can use it.”

“Right.” Taggert looked to Jason briefly before turning back to her. “We’ve taken all the victims through it again. We might do it one more time. So, this might not be the only time we talk.” He nodded to Kelsey who pressed record on a tape recorder sitting in the middle of the table.

There were a few legal things—and she could feel Jason tensing next her as she signed some paperwork. It went against everything he believed in to sign papers without a lawyer for the cops, but she trusted Taggert. On this anyway.

“Okay, let’s start at the top,” he told her.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, leaned back in her chair, and under the table, reached for Jason’s hand just to hold it for a moment. He squeezed back.

“I went to the movies that night,” she said. “I’d lied to my grandmother, my sister, my friends. I’d told them I was going to the dance with a football player who didn’t know I existed.” Her mouth twisted. “It seems so silly now…that lie. As soon as I’d said it, I knew I was digging a hole. He’d be at the dance, and Lucky and Sarah would see him. They’d know I lied.  And God, the thought of going home to face…

“So, when the movies were over, I still had an hour left before I could go home and not be interrogated by my grandmother. I didn’t think she’d wait up for me. So, I walked home through the park. God it was so cold, and I had these stupid strappy heels on. I can still feel the snow soaking my stockings as I went through the park.”

“You stopped at the fountain on the southern edge of the park. Was that where you entered the park?” Taggert asked.

She frowned at the question but was grateful at the detail it had brought back to her. “Oh. No. That’s…the side of the park where it borders Central Avenue. A lot of buses run past there, and I was going to take one home. I came in from the opposite side. I guess, from the north. It was across the street from the movie theater. I had crossed most of the park by then.”

Had been just yards away from the park entrance.

“I stopped because the walk had only taken ten minutes and it seemed so important to kill more time. I didn’t want to go to a cafe or diner—what if someone from school was there? And I didn’t have a story yet to cover where I’d been. How to explain my lies to Lucky or Sarah.” Elizabeth looked down at her fingernails, at the chipped red nail polish she never remembered to remove or reapply.

“So, I stopped at the fountain. There was a bench, and I had my leftover popcorn. I thought…I’ll sit here for about ten minutes and maybe I could get away with going home early. I could lie to my grandmother about it. Or maybe…God maybe I would have just told her the truth. I think I was close to just saying to hell with it, and maybe Gram would have—”

At the thought of her beloved grandmother, her voice broke and she dipped her head.

“Do you want to take a break?” Taggert’s voice broke through. She felt Jason turning towards her, his arm along the back of her chair.

“No, no. Just…my grandmother.” She accepted the tissue Kelsey offered her and took another deep breath. “I don’t know how long I sat there. It felt like hours, but it could have been seconds.”

She couldn’t look at Taggert, couldn’t turn to Jason, or even look at Kelsey who was a relative stranger. So, she looked between the two of them, at the window across the room.

“I was yanked back before I felt the hand on my mouth—I couldn’t scream, but I held on to the bench. I tried so hard, but it was stone and—” She held up her hand, looking at it. “I broke nails. One of them was completely gone, and it was hell hiding that. I had to lie about closing my hand in the door.

“But it wasn’t enough,” she murmured. “He was so strong…” Elizabeth had to take a moment. To just…breathe. “He dragged me into the bushes—there weren’t leaves and the branches scratched at my legs. I kept struggling. I tried to fight. I don’t know…what happened to my coat. It was gone. I never did…find it.

“He threw me on the ground. Hard. It was so cold…. He grabbed me by the hair and slammed my head into the ground.” She closed her eyes again, trying to put herself back in that moment. She’d gone through it with Gail in therapy but there were things even Gail didn’t know.

“He let me go…just briefly—I could feel his weight lift off me for a second, and I tried to get myself together to scream, but I couldn’t. Everything hurt, and it was just this ugly horrible blur. I wanted to curl up and just…go away. But he grabbed my hands and he held them over my head.” She rubbed at her wrists. “I tried to kick, tried to get away, but then he shoved me on my stomach—” She looked at Taggert. “He handcuffed me. My hands were behind my back—and I—I don’t know how I forgot that. I didn’t remember that until…months later, but I don’t know how I could have forgotten. The metal was freezing. And then he shoved me on my back again, my shoulders—it hurt so much to move for days. To lift my arms.

“I tried to kick him again and I think I must have hurt him because he slapped me. And then…” Her voice trembled, and she did look at Jason this time. His eyes were wet as they met his, and something about that broke her. He never let Taggert see any emotion, and this—because he was hurting for her, he wasn’t protecting himself.

“He smelled my hair. It was a little shorter then…” Her stomach rolled as bile rose in her throat. “He put his face down next to my ear, but it was just to say something. He was—in my hair. Smelling it, rubbing it against his cheek.”

Without a word, Kelsey slid a bottle of water across the table and Elizabeth took it, taking a long gulp as if that could make it go away.

“Do you need a break?” Taggert asked again, but this time his voice sounded rusty.

“No, we’re…it’s almost done.” She rubbed her chest. “That’s when he said not a word in my ear. His breath smelled like soap. Clean. I didn’t remember the stuff about the hair until after I stopped going to therapy. I remembered it when Lucky came home. I couldn’t look at my hair then, I almost dyed it, but then people would have asked, so I just—I chopped it as short as I could.”

She took a deep breath. “That’s not relevant, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

It wasn’t but she just shook her head. Had to get this out. “He pulled down the top of my dress—that’s when he ripped one of the straps. And he touched my…my breasts. Squeezed them so hard I had bruises there, too. I think I was a walking bruise for weeks. And then—I heard a rip, and it must have been my—because he was just…”

The stabbing pain came back to her then, but Elizabeth was ready for it. She shoved it aside. “He was inside of me. It felt like hours, but it really wasn’t. I don’t know. I just…it was happening. And then it was over, and I was crying. And then he…I don’t know. He tried to pull my dress up, and he was sweating. Panting, I thought. But I think…” She frowned. “It sounded like crying, but that’s not possible, right? I mean, that doesn’t make sense. I heard Lucky’s voice. Calling my name.”

She dipped her head. “I never told Lucky that it was…it was that close. That I don’t know what would have happened if Lucky hadn’t come along. Maybe he would have killed me. But he just uncuffed me and ran. I laid there a few minutes, trying to just…and then Lucky was closer. He was right there, and I thought…I had to get to him, because it would be over if I could just…so I crawled.”

She fell silent and looked at Taggert. “Is that what you were looking for?”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Um…” He scratched his cheek, looked at Kelsey. “Any questions?”

“Would you be willing to let us talk to Gail Baldwin?” Kelsey asked. “If you remembered this in pieces and in therapy, she’d have notes. And it would corroborate the timing of it. That you remembered before you knew it was…”

“Because there are things that happened to me that happened to the others.”

“Yeah,” Kelsey admitted. “I can’t…be more specific at this time, but it will be helpful—”

“I’ll sign a release.” Elizabeth sighed exhaled slowly, because somehow…knowing that the entire story had been told—that it was on tape—that she wasn’t the only one with these memories now—some of the darkness swirling inside had dissipated. “You said it wasn’t Baker. That he’d been excluded.”

“Yeah.” Taggert furrowed his brow. “The DNA didn’t match. Why?”

“I just…” Elizabeth chewed her bottom lip. “It just seemed so…he seemed to know what I was talking about. He didn’t even…skip a beat. And…I went to see him in prison a few months later. After he’d been sentenced. And he said something about my red dress. But maybe…” Elizabeth sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe he just took a lucky guess.”

Taggert frowned but nodded. “Maybe. That’s all we needed from you right now. I know with everything else you’re dealing with, Liz, that it couldn’t have been easy to do this. Thank you.”

“Just promise me you won’t give up this time.”

Elizabeth and Jason left without giving Taggert a chance to respond. She’d had enough.

Gate House: Living Room

Ned grimaced when he found Scott Baldwin standing on his doorstep, but he stepped back to allow the district attorney to enter. “What do you want?”

“You know, what happened to your daughter—” Scott shook his head. “It makes me sick, Ned. It makes me sick that I couldn’t do more. I didn’t know how bad the case was screwed up—but—” He hesitated. “I should have.”

“You said all of this in July. If that’s all you have—” Ned started to open the door, but Scott remained planted in his spot by the sofa. “What is it?”

“Floyd can’t win in November. I can’t serve another term under him. I thought about resigning but God only knows who he’d put in my place.” Scott scowled. “So, I’m gonna do what someone should have done a long time ago. I’m gonna give you the ammunition you need to put him in the ground, but you can’t tell anyone I’ve leaked information in an ongoing investigation.”

Ned growled at him. “I don’t want to know anything that’s going to compromise that case—”

“It won’t. It’ll just show this goddamn city how corrupt Floyd is, how corrupt he makes the people working for him, and how easy it is for him to sacrifice everyone else for his power.” Scott took a deep breath. “Floyd threatened to fire Mac if he didn’t close Elizabeth Webber’s rape case in the fall of 1998. Edward was making threats about funding another candidate in the ‘99 election so Floyd wanted the Baker case to go away.”

Ned just stared at him, shaking his head. “Why does—” He stopped as the realization began to spread throughout his body. “Are you—what do you mean he closed her case?”

“I mean that Mac put her case in the closed storage without running the rape kit that would have cleared Tom Baker of her rape. And because everyone assumed his confession was true, the bastard went on to keep raping women. Including…”

“Including my daughter.”

The fury all but consumed him, made him dizzy. He put a hand against the wall to brace himself. “I don’t understand. How—”

“Taggert figured it out when he pulled Elizabeth’s case after he linked the other cases. He found a falsified lab report stating the kit was negative and was livid when he realized her case had been moved from cold storage. He had put it there himself. He reopened her case and also found two other victims. This bastard kept raping because Mac and Floyd made her case go away.”

And now his daughter was dead.

“Because Grandfather—” Ned squeezed his eyes shut, his brain screaming. Because Edward had gone through the roof when Emily had been held hostage by Tom Baker. Had been livid when the trial began, and Elizabeth Webber had made her outcry. He’d been so angry—

And Ned knew—Christ, he knew Floyd had been under pressure from the Quartermaines.

“I called him,” Ned said faintly. “I’m the one—I made the call. Grandfather told me to do it, but I made the contact. I told Floyd that we wanted to make sure that Baker’s case was handled by the book. We wanted him to go away. Whatever he had to do.”

Oh, God. He’d never meant…

“Ned—”

“I didn’t—we didn’t know about Elizabeth’s attack. Emily didn’t tell us. And it wasn’t in the papers. Not until the trial. And then…then Grandfather was so upset. He wanted to make sure that Steve’s granddaughter got justice. I called Mac personally, and he told me—”

His chest was on fire as he forced the words out. “He told me that there just wasn’t enough—he lied to me.”

“Everyone believed the confession, so they figured what harm would it do. Investigating it might have taken two or three months — Baker might have dragged out the trial into election season. Floyd wanted it to go away. And after the Quartermaines contacted him again, Floyd had Mac create the lab report in case anyone ever came looking.”

“But no one did. No one gave it a second thought. And he raped six more women.” Ned slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground, looking helplessly up at Scott. “He raped my daughter. And now she’s dead. Because I made a phone call.”

“Bullshit to that.” Scott sliced his hand through the air. “Bullshit to all of that. You want to blame yourself for wanting Emily to have justice? For making sure Floyd knew the Quartermaines were watching? Any other man with a fucking conscience would have pushed back and told you there were other charges. Edward would have backed down. Your family might be ruthless and insane, but not one of you would have fed Elizabeth Webber to the wolves for Emily’s sake. Any other man would have told Edward and you about the rape case.”

“But Floyd didn’t.”

“And when he was faced with the serial rapist this summer, he tried to bury it. But it didn’t work.” Scott hesitated. “I know who leaked the investigation when Brooke was attacked. He leaked the attacks, not her name, Ned. Because he was angry. Because he wanted justice. And then when the mayor’s office got the first request for comment, I think Floyd put your daughter’s name out there. Because he’s the only one who benefited from having the spotlight on the PCPD and on your family.”

Ned took a deep breath and got to his feet. “Does Elizabeth know?”

“Taggert told her last night the case was re-opened, and she had questions about the rape kit. I think she’s curious what happened.”

“Then I think it’s time I tell her.” Ned lifted his chin. “And if she’s okay with it, I will use this to raze this city to the ground.”

Luke’s: Office

In the back office, while Claude was manning the bar, Lucky was leaning back in his chair, staring that ceiling. He’d gone into work for a little while that afternoon and discovered Elizabeth’s statement had been transcribed.

He’d sat down to read it, to see if he could offer any details or clarification because he knew how little she’d remembered about her attack.

Only to realize just how much of the horror she’d never told him about.

Kelsey knocked on the open door and waited a moment at the threshold. “Hey. Taggert called me. He said you’d stopped in. You saw her statement.”

“Yeah.”

She nodded, then walked in and rounded the desk. She set her briefcase down and leaned against the desk. “You didn’t listen to the tape, did you?”

“No.” He cleared his throat. “No. I didn’t—once I got to the end—” He shook his head. “She never…she was never able to do that before. You know? She couldn’t get through the details back then. I never—it’s stupid. It’s not about me.”

“No, but you went through it with her. And you’ve been remembering more and more of it in the last few months. It makes it now instead of then.” She tipped her head to the side. “I don’t even know her, and it was a hard statement to sit through. Sitting there, watching her relive it. But she’s strong, Lucky.”

“Yeah. She always was.”

“Are we interrupting?”

Lucky and Kelsey looked to find Dante and Cruz sauntering into the office. “Hey. I didn’t know you guys were off tonight,” Lucky said. He sat up and Kelsey straightened away from the desk.

“We were signing out for the night when we saw Elizabeth Webber made her statement. After we read it over…” Cruz shrugged. “Dante figured you might need to talk.” He grinned at Kelsey. “I guess we weren’t the only ones.”

“I can’t believe how much her statement sounds like Brooke’s attack,” Dante said as he sprawled out in one of Luke Spencer’s battered armchairs. “How did they not know?”

“Her original statement wasn’t that detailed,” Cruz reminded him. He shrugged and sat on the bench that stretched out along the wall next to the door. “That’s why you do follow-ups with cops who aren’t assholes.”

“Oh, yeah.” Dante grimaced. “Vinnie’s original interviews are bad. I mean, I know he’s worried about being a scapegoat for Floyd, and Taggert said he’d watch out for him, but I don’t know…maybe he should be held responsible.”

He looked at Kelsey who had remained quiet so far. “What do you think?”

“I think Vinnie Esposito is a crappy cop,” Kelsey offered bluntly. “With poor training and not enough experience. I also think he’s a misogynistic asshole. To be honest, I’ll be surprised if he makes it out of this investigation without being written up.”

“What about the fact that the guy didn’t beat Elizabeth Webber like he did the rest of them?” Cruz asked. “Do you think that’s because she was the first and he was just…” He grimaced. “Figuring out what he liked?”

“I scared him off,” Lucky said dully. He scrubbed his hands over his face. “She said so in her statement. He didn’t get the chance.”

“It’s not your fault,” Dante told him. “Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”

“My voice scared the guy off,” Lucky repeated. He closed his eyes. “But that means I should have heard him running away. I could have caught him—”

“And I could’ve been President if you listen to my mother,” Dante shook his head. “Look at it this way—her case doesn’t match the others, right? I mean, she wasn’t left unconscious and beaten nearly to a pulp. Because you stopped it.”

“Maybe.” Lucky sat up, then squinted at him. “Maybe. But maybe not.”

“What do you mean?” Kelsey asked as Lucky got up and crossed the room to dig through a box in the corner. “What is that?”

“I’ve been taking my own notes and bringing them home to think about the case when I’m not at the station. I read over all the victim statements and you’re right. Elizabeth doesn’t match the others.” He flipped through a notebook he brought back to his desk. “This thing about the hair. She didn’t remember that then. She only remembered he smelled like soap and that he said not a word.”

“Which he said to, what, four of the other victims?” Cruz squinted at him. “So?”

Kelsey frowned at him, her eyes narrowing with interest. “You think there’s something to the hair, don’t you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. He’s always saying they’re not right. Did he say that to Elizabeth? Or maybe she just doesn’t remember then.”

“You’ve got a point. Let me think it over. I think there’s something there.” She looked at Cruz. “What do you think?”

“I think Lucky’s got a point. Elizabeth’s the first known victim. Her case is different. We should be looking at how they’re different.”

Lucky nodded. “All of the victims after Elizabeth say the first thing, he did was handcuff them. But he doesn’t do that with Elizabeth.”

Dante nodded, “Okay. Maybe he learned from her.” He looked at Lucky. “But she still got handcuffed. How could she have forgotten that?”

“She was in denial at first. It took time for her to even admit what had happened even though I knew it right away. It was hell even getting her to go to Mercy to have the rape kit, to turn over her dress—that’s not my point. If we’re right, and the handcuffing wasn’t his first choice—”

“Then why did—” Dante exhaled slowly. “Why did he have handcuffs in the first place? Jesus, are you telling me you think it was a cop?”

“Or a security guard. One of those rent a cops. They hired them at the Harwin for a while back in 1997 and 1998. There were a lot of burglaries. I remember reading them in the papers. They had a bunch of officers on Central Avenue where the hotel was, but the Harwin and the businesses on the other side of the park hired a bunch of security firms to patrol the area.”

“Yeah, and sometimes they carry handcuffs to detain people until the cops get there. It’s not really legal, but we usually don’t bat an eye at it.”

Kelsey took a deep breath, looked at the trio of friends. “We’re going to run down every lead, guys. Even if it takes us to places we don’t really want to go.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth had convinced Jason to take them to the PCPD on his bike, though he’d initially protested. Elizabeth had reminded him that Kelly had told them to let Elizabeth set her own limits and that she could do whatever she’d done before, at least for a while.

So, after she’d finished giving her statement, without being asked, Jason had taken them both on a ride on the cliff roads, to let the wind and the roar of the motorcycle clear their heads and try to put it out of their minds.

It worked. At least until they returned to the Towers parking garage and made their way upstairs to the penthouse. Jason nodded to the guard on duty in the hallway, but he and Elizabeth still didn’t say anything to each other when they were alone in the living room.

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said after a long moment in which they stood there, looking at one another. “I shouldn’t have asked you to come—”

“It’s—” Jason shook his head, looked away. “I knew before that night at Jake’s—before you told me. I knew what you’d been through. Logically. Until these last weeks—until that letter from Baker and what’s happened to Brooke—I don’t think I ever really understood it.” He sighed. “And to listen to you go through it, it just—I don’t understand men who hurt women. And I hate that it happened to you. I hate that it’s still happening.”

He shook his head again. “But this isn’t about me.”

“We’ve already talked about this, Jason. Yes. The rape exists in my head, and it’s not as locked away as it used to be. I hate that this case is open again, but maybe this time they’ll do it right.” She put her hands on his shoulders, sliding her fingers down to his elbows, then back up again. “It was hard back then, thinking that it had ruined my life. That I was never going to be able to fall in love and be normal. But Lucky, then you—you both proved to me I had so much more to give. And I’m okay. I’m not alone.”

He dipped his head down, let his forehead rest against hers. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The phone on the desk rang then, and Jason sighed before pulling away to answer it. “Yeah?” He frowned. “Really? Okay. Send him up.”

He looked at Elizabeth, a bit bewildered. “Ned’s downstairs. He says he needs to talk to both of us.”

“Oh, man, I wonder if he found out about the first three cases.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Maybe he wants me to make a statement or something.”

“Elizabeth—”

“I know, I know. You want me to avoid stress.” She held her wrist out to him. “Go ahead, check my pulse.”  She was joking, but Jason clearly wasn’t.

By the time Ned reached the door, Jason was satisfied that her pulse rate was normal and had let her sit down.

“I’m sorry to just show up,” Ned told them when he closed the door. “But I just—I had a source leak some details about my daughter’s investigation.”

“Taggert came to talk to us last night,” Elizabeth said as Ned sat down in the armchair. “I know my case was reopened. That the case count is up to seven.”

“I’m glad he finally let you in on it, but did he explain what happened to your rape kit?” Ned pressed.

Elizabeth exchanged a troubled look with Jason. “Is that what your source told you? How my kit was messed up?”

“I need your okay before I go public with this,” Ned said, “because what I’m about to tell you is going to ensure that Garrett Floyd’s days as mayor are done.”

Today was gonna be the day
But they’ll never throw it back to you
By now you should’ve somehow
Realized what you’re not to do
I don’t believe that anybody
Feels the way I do, about you now
– Wonderwall, Oasis

---

Saturday, September 13, 2003

Warehouse: Jason’s Office

Jason held Carly’s elbow as she slowly lowered herself to the dingy sofa in his office. “I would have come to you—”

“I’m eight months pregnant, not dying,” Carly muttered. “And Dr. Meadows thinks it’s a good idea if I keep active for as long as I can stand it.” She sighed. “And since Courtney left for Manhattan last month, Sonny spends a lot less time here in the mornings so I knew it would be clear.”

“Yeah, one of the guards told me you’d taken a suitcase and Michael to the Brownstone,” Jason told her, taking a seat next her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize things were so bad with Sonny.” He shook his head. “I should have. All I do with him is argue these days and it’s always the same thing.”

“Yeah, well, I guess we both thought he’d eventually come around.” Carly bit her lip. “Has Sonny tried to go after Ric? Did he—he did tell you—I mean, I know I’m not supposed to ask about business—”

“Once,” Jason asked after a long time. “I told him no. He gave the order to Johnny who also refused.”

Carly closed her eyes. “And neither of you got in trouble for that?”

“I sent Johnny to the island to deal with security down there for a while until Sonny cools off, but no. At the end of the day, even if Sonny wanted to, there aren’t a lot of the guys who are willing to—” Jason shook his head. “Why does it matter?”

“Well, for one, all this time I thought he was angry at me because he couldn’t go after Ric. It turns out he was already ignoring what I needed from him, and he was angry with everyone else.” Carly exhaled slowly, trying to gather her thoughts. “He’s not well, Jason. A year ago, I thought he trusted me. He brought me into the plan to fake his death and he gave me a role to play. He listened to me. He took suggestions to get through that. But—”

“Yeah. He’s been having a rough time of it since you went missing, but I don’t know. Maybe it started when he found out about Ric and his mother.” Jason rubbed his chest. “He always blamed himself for his mother’s death, you know. And then you get kidnapped because of him. Elizabeth nearly dies because she’s trying to help him. He always takes on the weight of the world.”

“I know that, Jason. I do. And I’ve let him get away with it. You and I—we’ve made him a priority in a way that I just…don’t want to do anymore, you know?” She absently rubbed her belly. “Michael deserves better. This new baby deserves better from me. And Jason, you deserve better, too.” She looked at him. “What did the doctor say yesterday?”

Jason sighed and got up to pace across the room. “That Elizabeth should be able to carry the baby to term without a lot of problems as long as we monitor her health and avoid stress. The doctor seemed to think most of the risk would come after delivery.”

“Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?” Carly asked. “I mean, she and I are never going to be friends, but I know what she went through. She did it for you mostly, but I’m still free because of her.” She bit her lip. “Jason, we have to stop letting what Sonny needs be the most important thing in the world to us. You need to put Elizabeth first. I need to put my kids first.”

“Yeah, I know. I know that.”

“But doing it is a lot harder than it looks.” She hesitated. “Listen, there’s something else you should know. Sonny made some threats against Scott Baldwin.”

Jason blinked, shook his head, and looked at her. “No. That’s not—he wouldn’t—”

“Exactly. He wouldn’t. If he were thinking clearly. He wants Ric to go away, and right now, you and I are standing in his way. He can’t do anything to us, and I don’t believe he ever would. So, he’s blaming the next best thing.”

“Going after a DA—that’s suicide. There’s not a man alive in this organization—” He shook his head again. “No one is going to agree to do that. Not over something like this.”

“And the fact that he couldn’t even get anyone to go after Ric gives me a lot of relief, because that means Scott will be safe. I know you guys gave Courtney grief when she called the police, and I get it, but Scott means a lot to my mother and he’s—”

“He’s never once treated you and Elizabeth differently because of me and Sonny,” Jason finished. “Yeah, I agree. I don’t think Baldwin’s in any danger, but it makes me nervous Sonny isn’t getting better.”

“He’s the father of my children, Jason, but I’m just…I can’t do this anymore.” She started to get to her feet, so Jason took her elbow and helped her.

“We’ll figure this out, Carly. But right now, you worry about the baby. Let me worry about Sonny.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Carly muttered on her way out the door, but Jason didn’t answer her.  

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

 “I am so glad to see you,” Elizabeth said as she embraced Nikolas for a tight hug. “I feel like we didn’t have enough time to catch up in July.”

“Well, you were busy trying not to die,” he said dryly as he drew back and kissed her cheek. “But I’m happy to see you out of the hospital and…” He looked around the room. “I think I’m not entirely surprised to find you here.”

“I’m moving my things in here officially this weekend,” Elizabeth told him as they sat down on the sofa. “But I’ve been staying here since Wednesday—Sarah was here overnight, and I let her stay in the condo.”

“Sarah?” Nikolas repeated. “Why—” He shook his head. “Why was she in Port Charles? She left last year without so much as a word to the rest of us—”

“Yeah, well, she finished her residency in California and Mercy is interviewing her for a fellowship. It was fine. She stayed at my place, and Jason and I took her to Eli’s for dinner. It was weird but fine.” Elizabeth scratched her temple. “How’s your mother? You were hoping to bring her home soon. Is that still happening?”

“Yeah, yeah. She’ll be at Shadybrooke for few weeks, and then they’re going to do some outpatient therapy.” Nikolas’s smile was full of relief. “She should be home for good by Christmas as long as there aren’t any setbacks.”

“I’m so glad,” Elizabeth said, reaching out to squeeze his hands. “I know Lucky could use her in his life. He told you about the investigation and what happened to Brooke Lynn Ashton?”

“Yeah. It’s—” Nikolas shook his head. “It’s brought back some rough memories for him. Have you talked to him?”

“A little but not in a few weeks,” Elizabeth admitted. “But he seems happier than he used to be. Have you met Kelsey?”

“I did. She came with him to pick me up. I liked her. And you’re right, he seems happy. But I’m worried about this case.” Nikolas paused. “He said he talked to you about his memory issues.”

“A few weeks ago, yeah. He said he was remembering it now,” Elizabeth replied.  “I thought about checking in with him again, but…” She looked down at her hands. “I don’t know. We have this shared trauma of that night, and I’m dealing with a lot after what happened with Ric—what’s still happening because of him…”

“Are…are you okay?” Nikolas asked, concerned.

“I’ve been seeing Gail Baldwin and digging into a lot of crap that happened, so it’s been painful. Jason and I have fought maybe a hundred times about him worrying too much about me taking risks with my health, so that’s been fun.” Elizabeth pursed her lips. “And then, to top it off, ELQ apparently can’t make decent condoms, so it turns out I’m pregnant.”

To his credit, Nikolas merely nodded. “Okay. So that’s a lot.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly, shaking her head. “The doctor says there’s a good chance I’ll be okay, and the baby will be okay, but instead of being excited, Ric gets to play a starring role because of the drugs he fed me for months.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry. That’s not why you came over—”

“Hey. We agreed this summer we were going to do better by one another, right?” Nikolas squeezed her hand again. “I’m glad you felt like you could tell me that. Have you talked to Jason?”

“To a certain extent, yeah, he knows all of that but…I’m tired of everything being about Ric. Between what happened to Brooke and the memories it brought up for me because of Ric, the trial, and now the baby—I just want my life to stop being about Ric Lansing.”

She got to her feet and paced the length of the room. “I wanted the chance to testify against him. To see his face so he could know that I’m not weak. I wanted him to know who put him there.” She stared out the window over the harbor. “But mostly, I just want it all to be over.”

“It will be.” Nikolas got to his feet and joined her. “At the end of all it, you and Carly will put that sociopath away for the rest of his life, you’ll have your baby, and in a few years, this won’t even make the top ten list of things you think about.”

“I wish I could believe that,” Elizabeth murmured. She smiled at him. “But it gives me something to look forward to, you know? The idea that if I just concentrate on that moment—my baby’s fifth birthday or something—I want to be able to dream again, Nikolas.” Tears slid down her cheek. “But I’m not sure I remember how anymore.”

“Well, then dream about this. Next week, let’s get together with Lucky and Emily and have dinner. The Four Musketeers.”

Elizabeth laughed through her tears. “You know, the last time we all had dinner together, Lucky was kidnapped. I guess it can’t get much worse than that. Okay. It’s a deal. Dinner with the Musketeers.”

Brownstone: Living Room

 “Hey, Lucky,” Bobbie said as she embraced her nephew. “It’s been a few weeks since I saw you around.”

“Yeah, well…” Lucky grimaced and followed his aunt to the kitchen where she started a pot of coffee. “I’ve been busy with the case—”

“And Kelsey,” his aunt said with a smile. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how little you come by Kelly’s and your room.”

“Things are…” Lucky shook his head, with a bit of a surprised laugh. “Things are good. I’m not really sure how it happened, but she’s amazing. And I feel—” He looked at Bobbie. “I feel like I’m finally the person I’m supposed to be. With her. With Dante and Cruz. And sometimes, at my job.”

“I’m so glad.” Bobbie squeezed his shoulder. “You were so lost. Even when we thought you were found, you still didn’t seem comfortable in your own skin.”

“Nikolas likes her.” He shrugged. “Dad might not since she’s an ADA and he’s not that great about my job choice, but I guess we’ll find out.”

“I can’t believe your mother will finally be home next month,” Bobbie said. She placed the coffee carafe underneath her faucet and turned on the water. “Lulu is excited to be moving back to the house—she said Lesley is coming home next week, then Luke will come back with Laura.” She threw him a smile over her shoulder. “It’s been a hard year for the Spencers, but we’re coming out of it.”

“Yeah.” Lucky sat on the stool by the counter and unpinned his badge from his uniform shirt. “What do you think Mom is gonna say about me being a cop?”

“I think it might surprise her,” Bobbie admitted as she switched on the pot to brew, then turned to fully face him. “But do I think she’ll react like Luke? No. She’d be proud of you for going after what you want.” She tipped her head to the side. “You’ve been at this for four months on duty. Is this still something you want?”

“I don’t know,” Lucky admitted. “I got into it because of Scott—because of how he and everyone went after Mom and Dad last year for what happened to Rick Webber. He made it sound like I couldn’t do it, you know? I went into the academy just to prove I could. Then I met Dante and Cruz—” He looked at Bobbie. “But ever since I actually started doing the work…”

“Well, I guess it doesn’t help that literally the day you started was Carly’s kidnapping. Then this rape investigation with poor Brooke. It’s probably been hard on all three of you. Especially you and Dante—”

“Yeah…” Lucky sighed. “The thing is, Aunt Bobbie, this rape case—it’s bringing back a lot of stuff. You know where the papers are saying it happened, right?”

“The park,” Bobbie said with a nod as she took two mugs out of a cabinet. “That’s where Brooke was.”

“The papers don’t have the whole story yet, but you’re going to be hearing it soon enough because Taggert is supposed to tell her today.” Lucky waited until Bobbie stopped to meet his eyes. “Brooke and the other three women—it’s not the first time this guy has hit Port Charles.”

Bobbie stared at him for a long moment, then closed her eyes. “Oh, God. Tell me when you say her—tell me—”

“Taggert had this hunch that something about this case seemed familiar, but I think he already knew. I think he was already told he wasn’t allowed to reopen her case because he told me, Dante, and Cruz to go down to the archives and bring up all the cold cases that were similar. He knew what we were supposed to find.”

The drip of the coffee was the only thing that punctuated the silence as Bobbie said nothing. Lucky continued. “We found two other cases. Two other women, in April 1999 and January 2000. But Aunt Bobbie, Elizabeth’s case wasn’t in cold storage.”

Bobbie frowned. “I thought Taggert put it on the inactive list. That’s what he told Elizabeth back then. Even though Baker had confessed—”

“That’s where Taggert put it. Mac Scorpio told him they would run the rape kit, but until then it had to come off the active case list. He told Taggert the kit came back negative.”

Bobbie clutched at the edge of the counter as if to maintain her balance. “Lucky—”

“But we found the file in closed storage. It was marked as solved. The lab report was in the file, just like it was in the DA’s file—but it wasn’t created until December. And the lab said it didn’t come from them. And her dress never got tested.”

“I—I can’t—” Bobbie shook her head. “How—”

“We couldn’t understand it either. Taggert talked to Mac. He said it was some kind of clerical error—that the lab got it wrong, but I don’t think so. I think Floyd pressured Mac to close any case that would screw up Baker’s trial. We all thought Baker was the guy. Maybe Mac didn’t even think he was doing anything wrong.”

Bobbie rounded the counter to sit at her table. “Why would Floyd care—” She twisted in the chair to look at Lucky. “Because Baker was on trial for what happened to Emily. You think Edward was behind this.”

“I think it’s entirely possible the Quartermaines were the source of that pressure, yes,” Lucky said. He turned on the stool. “We ran the kit finally—and all the other kits. They’re all linked. Baker was excluded. And Elizabeth’s rapist went on to brutally beat and rape six other women, including Brooke Lynn.”

Bobbie pressed a fist to her abdomen. “I feel sick to my stomach. They…they swept her case under the rug and—Oh, God. You said Taggert is telling her today?”

“Yeah. She’s the only previous victim we haven’t interviewed. He held off until he had no other choice. He was almost hoping he wouldn’t have to tell her at all — Elizabeth’s case is five years old — older than that now, and the statute of limitations ran out in February.”

Bobbie frowned. “Then—”

“Elizabeth was sixteen,” Lucky continued, “and in the state of New York, the clock on limitations doesn’t start until the victim turns eighteen.”

Bobbie pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. “And now, after everything she’s been through, Taggert is going to reopen all of this.”

“Aunt Bobbie—”

“I don’t think Edward had anything to do with the cover-up,” Bobbie cut him. “I buy that he leaned on Floyd to protect Emily, to go after Baker. Edward’s always been ruthless, but he’s not cruel. He respected Steve and Audrey too much to do that to their granddaughter. He wouldn’t have done it.”

“Maybe, but at the end of the day, instead of running the rape kit and officially clearing Baker, Mac let this case die. And six other women went with it.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“What do you think is going to happen to Sonny and Carly?” Elizabeth asked as she handed Jason his takeout container from Kelly’s. She settled herself on the sofa next to him and grimaced at the roasted vegetables and plain chicken breast she’d ordered. The least she could do for her baby was eat better, but damn if didn’t hurt to watch Jason sink his teeth into a burger.

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “Carly seems tired of dealing with it, and I can’t blame her. Not after everything she’s been through. I guess…we’ll just have to see how it plays out.” He eyed her as she listlessly stabbed a fork into a piece of zucchini. “Did Nikolas stop by today?”

“Yeah, and then I went to see Gail when he left for our usual session.” She sighed. “Gail said that one of her support groups is looking for someone to lead it.” Her stomach twisted. “A rape survivor’s group. She thought I might be interested.”

He just tipped his head to the side. “Are you?”

She said nothing for a long moment as she ate a few bites of the vegetables. As she chewed, she tried to think of a way to express exactly what she was thinking. “I don’t know. I think about talking to Brooke and what I’ve been through this summer, the idea of talking about my rape, listening to other people talk about theirs…I almost can’t stand it. But…”

“But?” he pressed when she trailed off.

“I went to a few group meetings while I was seeing Gail the first time around. And…I don’t know. It sucked knowing I wasn’t alone. That men were out there doing this to women all the time.” Elizabeth looked away, towards the fireplace. “But…I wasn’t alone. And that helped sometimes when I was sitting in my room and couldn’t sleep.” She jerked a shoulder. “That summer, I used to get really upset that I would never know. Lucky and I were trying to find the guy, but our own investigation never went anywhere.”

She set her takeout container on the coffee table. “But then I’d remember some of the stories I heard in group, and I’d think…maybe it’d be worse if I did know the guy, you know? Someone’s boyfriend raped her when she told him no. Another had been…her father. Someone else’s uncle.”

She looked at Jason whose expression hadn’t changed, even as one of his hands had clenched into a fist. “Gail thinks I’d be good at it, and it might help me let go of my guilt about not doing enough for Brooke. I’ve been complaining about not having any passion, any direction…And I don’t think it would be all that stressful. I mean, it would be painful, but—”

“Not stressful the way we need to worry about,” Jason offered when she furrowed her brow, trying to articulate the difference.

“Yeah. If she thinks it’s a good idea, she’s probably right. But I don’t know. I’m trying to get away from all of that. I was just telling Nikolas how much I want it all to stop, to go away. If I did this, I’d have to live with all the time.”

He paused for a moment as if searching for the right words. “But you already do.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I don’t know. I guess it’s something to think about.”

The phone on Jason’s desk rang, so he got up to answer it. “Yeah?” He grimaced, looked at Elizabeth. “Hold on a second.” He put the receiver down. “Taggert is here to see you.”

“Really?” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Send him up, I guess.”

Jason gave the directive, then hung up the phone. “What do you think he wants?”

“I don’t know. It’s almost eight.” Elizabeth got to her feet to clear away their dinner, but Jason stopped her and did it instead. “I went to see him and Scott yesterday—you don’t think Ric already knows, do you?” she called after him as he went into the kitchen.

“I don’t know.” Jason reappeared in the doorway. “I guess we’ll find out.”

When she opened the door to Taggert a few minutes later, she hoped neither the fear nor the panic swirling in her stomach showed on her face. “Lieutenant, this is a surprise.”

“Hey, Elizabeth,” Taggert said as she stepped back to let him. He had a slight grimace on his face when he saw Jason standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Sorry to come by so late, but I didn’t want to wait another day.”

She gestured for him to take a seat. He did so, sitting in the armchair next to the sofa where Elizabeth tugged Jason to sit next to her. “What’s up? Is it Ric?”

“No, no. Everything is still where we left it there. Um, you know I was promoted this summer and took over Major Crimes. That’s why I was on Brooke’s case.”

“Do you…have a lead?” Elizabeth asked. She looked at Jason who looked unhappy. She frowned before looking back at Taggert. “Did you find him?”

“No. We—the papers already reported that she was the fourth young woman in the park. We…There’s no easy way to say this, Elizabeth. But these four women—they weren’t the first.”

The chill began in her fingertips and she idly started to rub her hands together to keep them from freezing solid. Silly to wonder if the ice was real or just in her head. “They weren’t.”

“There were three other earlier attacks,” Taggert continued, looking down at the carpet. His voice started to sound far away. She felt Jason take one of her hands, hold it tightly. “January 2000. April 1999, and—”

“February 1998,” she said softly. “How can you know that?”

“We ran the…we ran the forensics, and there was…a DNA match linked all seven cases.”

“Seven—” Elizabeth shook her head. “No, no, then there’s a mistake. Because my kit was run. Back in 1998. After Baker confessed. Because he confessed—”

Thank God she was sitting down because her head started to swim. Jason turned and wrapped his arm around her, bringing her closer to him. He was so warm. She wanted to crawl inside of him and hide.

Because she knew what was coming next and she couldn’t stop it.

“Elizabeth, I can’t—the kit wasn’t—there were some issues. But—we now know the profile excludes Baker. And links you to the later cases.”

She closed her eyes, swallowed hard. “Jason.”

“I’m right here—”

“The letter. The letter he sent—is that what he said? Is that what you’ve wanted to tell me?”

“Letter?” Taggert asked, his brows lifted. “What letter?”

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t get the words out over the pounding of her heart. So, Jason took a deep breath and told him.

“In July, when we were packing her things at the house…she got a letter from Tom Baker. She didn’t open it.” His features were pained as she met his eyes. “I did. I read it. He’s up for parole in a while and he—”

“Wanted to clear his conscience?” Taggert asked sardonically.

“Make sure that no one was waiting for him when he left prison,” Jason said flatly. “He saw the same tabloids that Ric Lansing saw. Thought he had reason to worry.”

Taggert left it at that. “I no longer work in Organized Crime,” Taggert said. “I am supremely uninterested in anything that has to do with arresting someone who is not the asshole who—you can trust me. At least on this.”

“What did the letter say? Do you still have it?”

“It’s upstairs,” Jason said, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to leave Elizabeth alone for a minute to retrieve it. “She didn’t want to read it, and I never told her what was in it.” He looked at her, regretful. “You didn’t want to know. Every time I tried—”

She touched his face, understanding. After her reaction from just knowing he’d been to see Baker— “Taggert, can we trust you?” she asked softly. “I mean, really.”

“After we got the letter, I went to see him. To warn him to stay away from Elizabeth and Emily if he got out on parole,” Jason said, not looking away from Elizabeth. “But he said something that…he said something about what he wrote. So, I went home and read the letter. He said it wasn’t him. Then, after Brooke and the other stories in the papers…”

Taggert narrowed his eyes, lunged to his feet. “Is there, ah, a reason you didn’t think to tell the cops—”

“Tell the same department that almost got her killed?” Jason demanded, also rising and meeting Taggert’s glare, fury in his eyes. “Yeah. There were reasons.”

“Don’t—” Elizabeth stood up between them. “Don’t. Jason didn’t tell you because we didn’t trust you. And after everything that came out about Brooke’s case, I’m not sure he was wrong. Because I know for a fact I was told five years ago that my rape kit came back negative, Taggert. How were you able to exclude Baker this time?”

“I can’t get into that, Elizabeth—”

“When Jason told me he’d been to see Baker, I fell apart. I had a panic attack. I continued to have panic attacks and breathing problems until three weeks ago. And then we found out we were pregnant. He didn’t think I could handle knowing. And I don’t blame you.” She turned to look at him. “I don’t blame you.” Elizabeth returned to Taggert.  “But this guy—he’s raped six other women. And he’s responsible for Brooke’s death. So, I just…I want to do what I can to help.”

Taggert exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. For all the ways we’ve failed you. But I’m trying to do right now. What happened to you, to Brooke, to everyone who should have been safe makes me sick.” He looked at Jason, who was still breathing hard with anger. “You said you believed him. Why?”

Elizabeth gave him a pleading look, so Jason sighed and sat back down, pulling her with him. Taggert also retook his seat.  “He said that he knew he was getting out, and he wanted to make sure I didn’t have a reason to come after him,” Jason related as though there wasn’t a world of meaning in that statement. “Once we found out about the other attacks—it just seemed it fit. He said that she had said something, and he’d run with it.”

“Yeah, that’s about what I thought might have happened. I looked at the transcript of your original statement and it looks like—”

“He told me not to say a word, and—” Elizabeth took a deep breath, shaking her head. “Yeah, I guess maybe. I accused him, and I must have looked so freaked out. Thinking back, that makes sense.”

“I’d like you to come in,” Taggert told her. “I’d like you give us an updated statement for our files. We never conducted a second full interview.”

“Do you have any leads?”

He hesitated. “We have some things to look at, but at the moment, we don’t have a suspect. The DNA isn’t in the database. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be. Other jurisdictions are still getting online. He was inactive for nearly all of 2000 through 2002. He might have been somewhere else.”

“I guess…” Elizabeth sighed. “I guess yeah. Where did you keep the letter?” she asked Jason.

“I can get it—”

“I need a minute,” she told him quietly. “Please.”

“It’s in my top dresser drawer.” He watched as she slowly climbed the stairs before turning back to Taggert. “You’re not going to hassle me about going to see Baker?”

“I already know it was off the books because you’re not listed in his visitor log. So, I could…” Taggert looked at the stairs. “Knowing what she’s been through, Morgan, I waited until the last possible minute to bring her into this. I wanted to protect her. So, I can put myself in your place. Woman I cared about whose life was shattered gets a letter like that? I’m gonna get her some answers anyway I can.”

He tilted his head. “And now that I’m thinking back to it, it seems to me that after Brooke was attacked, I got a tip from an anonymous source that these weren’t the first attacks. That I should look at similar cases.”

Jason didn’t look at him, stared straight ahead at the television where the news was running, muted. “If I had come to you, she would have known. And she didn’t want to know.”

“Fair enough.”

Elizabeth came down the stairs and held out the letter, still folded. “Here. When do you want me to come in?”

“Tomorrow. Whenever is good for you.” Taggert took it and carefully slid it into a plastic bag he kept in the pocket of his suit jacket for times like these. “Thanks.”

Jason walked him to the door as Elizabeth sank back onto the sofa. When he closed the door, he looked back at Elizabeth. He didn’t know what to do for her. How to even…begin to understand how to make this okay for her.

“I think maybe part of me has wondered since the moment Emily called me and told me it was in the park,” Elizabeth admitted. “When you put that letter in front of me, and I had to face it, I still pushed it under the rug. I’ve avoided it. Concentrated on Brooke and what happened to Ric, and then the baby—I didn’t think I was strong enough to face the idea it wasn’t Baker.”

Her cheeks were wet when she met his eyes again. “But Taggert said it…and I realized I already knew. I had already accepted it. Somewhere inside. I just didn’t…Did you hear what he said? It wasn’t just me. I wasn’t alone.”

The echo of her words from earlier that evening slammed into him because they were no longer comforting but filled with horror. With terror.

He was rooted to this spot in front of the door, afraid to come near her. To touch her. What if he did, and it happened again? If she went back to that place—

“I wasn’t alone,” Elizabeth repeated. “And he just…” She pressed a fist to her mouth, closed her eyes. “He kept on doing it. He kept hurting women. April, January, February, May, July—and then, oh, God, Brooke. He’s the reason she’s gone. He’s still out there, Jason. Not five years ago. But now. Tonight. And these are just the women we know about. What if…”

He moved just one step towards her, then she flew into his arms, burrowing her head into his chest. He exhaled slowly, wrapping his arms around her and held her.

“What do you want to do?” he asked after a moment.

“I have to do it. I have to help. Six other women. Brooke. If I don’t, and I knew something that could have helped, even a little…and then someone else…I couldn’t live with myself, Jason.”

“Okay.”

She drew back to look at him. “I know you and Taggert aren’t…on most days, you don’t like each other, but I was hoping…you would come with me.”

“Taggert and I agree on one thing — you.” And he knew Taggert had transferred to Major Crimes over the handling of Elizabeth and Carly’s case. He’d been the only cop on their side while Carly was gone, responsible for the rookies who had sat outside her house every day. And now he’d done what he could to keep this case from touching Elizabeth. “If you want me there, then that’s where I’ll be.”

“Thank you.” She was quiet for a moment. “I’m going to tell Gail I’ll do it. The support group, anyway. I think—I think I need to deal with this once and for all and put it away for good.”

Now that we’re here,
It’s so far away
All the struggle we thought was in vain
All in the mistakes,
One life contained
They all finally start to go away
Now that we’re here it’s so far away
And I feel like I can face the day, and I can forgive
And I’m not ashamed to be the person that I am today
– So Far Away, Staind

---

Friday, September 12, 2003

General Hospital: Kelly Lee’s Office

 Sarah’s surprise visit was able to keep Elizabeth from obsessing about her doctor’s appointment and while dinner with her sister and Jason was a bit awkward, it was drama free. They dropped Sarah back at the condo while they went to the penthouse for the night.

The next morning, they headed to the hospital where Kelly Lee, a doctor Monica had recommended from Buffalo, had been granted temporary privileges and office space to treat Elizabeth, at least for today. She knew she was receiving special treatment from her connection to the Quartermaines, but it was hard to argue with it when it benefited her and the possibility of keeping her child.

From the moment Elizabeth and Jason entered Kelly’s office at General Hospital, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Kelly was enthusiastic, warm, and most importantly — direct.

“I can understand your cardiologist’s concern,” Kelly said as she looked through Elizabeth’s chart. “You’ve had a difficult few months health wise. That being said…” She lifted her eyes to the nervous couple seated in front of her. “Your recent scans are clear for blood clots, your bloodwork is clean, and none of the tests you’ve had so far show any damage to your heart and lungs.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly and looked at Jason. He took her hand in his, squeezing it. “So, it’s not crazy to think I could carry this baby to term and be okay?”

“It’s not crazy, no,” Kelly told her. “But we also can’t ignore that Dr. Quartermaine is entirely correct. You are at an elevated risk for another embolism, and pregnancy does place stress on the body that you probably don’t really need right now. That being said, there are a lot of things we can do to monitor you and stay on top of any problems.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, bit her lip. “But I can—I can keep the baby.”

“I’m sure you’ve both been through a lot since you found out a few days ago,” Kelly said when Elizabeth opened her eyes, looked at her. “Looking at your records, you had some scary close calls, Miss Webber.” She flicked her eyes to Jason. “And I’m sure that was difficult to watch. But you’re on blood thinners. Usually, we take you off those about ninety days after the embolism, but we’ll keep you on them for the duration of the pregnancy.”

She scribbled something else. “You’ll see me monthly—Dr. Quartermaine—the Chief of Staff—offered me a staff position so I won’t just be a visiting doctor. At home, however, I want you to monitor your pulse daily and your blood pressure once a week. Any deviation from the norm, you’re to come straight to the hospital so we can look into it.”

Elizabeth stared at her for a long moment. “But—but that’s it? That’s all we can do—”

“Well, normally, I’d remind you to take it easy. To avoid stress, but I understand you’re due to testify in a trial,” Kelly told her. “We’ll keep a close eye on you during that period, but honestly, Elizabeth, considering how fragile your situation was two months ago, you’ve gotten yourself back into decent enough shape that we can get you through this.”

She tipped her head. “But no unnecessary activity. Take it easy. Pregnancy can cause extreme fatigue, and you’re still rebuilding your stamina. If you feel tired, sit down. If you feel dizzy, lay down, call me. Try to avoid being alone for long stretches of time or make sure there’s always someone there to take your call.”

Kelly waited a long moment. “Are you a high-risk pregnancy? Yes. Do I think you need to worry? Not all the time. From your case file, it looks like the symptoms of your blood clots were masked by the drugs your ex-husband was giving you. But you’re aware of the symptoms now.” She leaned forward. “Follow my directions to the letter, and I honestly think you have an excellent chance of a smooth pregnancy.”

She tapped her pencil against the desk blotter. “Where we might have issues is delivery and directly after. We can discuss it as we get closer to your due date, but I might want to check you in ahead of time to monitor you closely in case a clot develops.”

They scheduled a follow-up appointment along with an ultrasound, and before Elizabeth knew it, the two of them were in the hallway of the hospital on their way to the elevator.

“I feel…” Elizabeth managed a laugh. She led Jason to a small alcove near the elevators and sat down on the sofa. “I feel so silly for all the drama and the crying, and the—” She shook her head. “She made it sound so easy.”

“Yeah, I have to admit, she’s not asking you to do anything much differently than you did after you left the hospital.” Jason took Elizabeth’s hand in his and held it palm side up, tracing the veins of her wrist. “And to be honest—”

“You already take my pulse at least once a day, if not more,” Elizabeth finished. “Yeah, I noticed.” She exhaled slowly. “I mean—we can—we can think about what’s next now. Because—I mean obviously we’re going forward with this.” She met his eyes. “Now that it’s—it’s safe. We can be happy. If you…”

“I am happy,” Jason told, softening his voice. “I was…afraid to be happy. I didn’t want to get used to the idea until we knew—”

“Until we knew,” she repeated when he stopped talking. She turned her hand back over and laced her fingers in his. “We’re having a baby.” Her smile spread until her cheeks nearly ached from it. “Maybe your mother—I mean, Monica—maybe she was right. Maybe this part is the miracle. Why we survived last summer.”

“You don’t have—you can call her my mother,” Jason told Elizabeth. “So, you said we can think about what’s next. We haven’t talked about it, but if your medical records are open to Ric—”

“He’ll know about the baby,” Elizabeth finished. She pressed her lips together. “Yeah, I talked to Bobbie about it, and I’d be insane not to worry about it. The miscarriage tipped Ric over the edge, so if he finds out I’m pregnant again—after what happened with that stuff in the papers…” She shook her head, her smile fading slightly. “I’m a little nervous.”

“That’s why I want—I want to move to the penthouse,” Jason told her. “You can do whatever you want to it, but as secure as the condo is—”

“The Towers are a fortress,” Elizabeth finished with a nod. “Yeah. We can do that.” At his surprised look, she shrugged. “I needed a place to get myself together. And the condo was great for that. And if it were just me, maybe we could discuss it further, but I remember how secure the penthouse was last year. All of that stuff you guys installed after that bomb got up to Sonny’s a few years ago and everything.”

She got to her feet and they started for the elevators. After she pressed the down button, Elizabeth said, “I also want to let Scott Baldwin know.” When Jason grimaced slightly, she continued, “I don’t want him to be blindsided if Ric finds out from my records. After he offered to make a deal when it would be better publicity for him to go to trial, I feel like I owe it to him to be fair.”

“Okay.” Jason wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Whatever you need, that’s what we’ll do.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

 Carly checked her watch and scowled, tapping her foot nervously against the floor as she stared at a magazine. She just wanted Jason to call and tell her about the doctor’s appointment—she was worried about both of them if the doctor gave them bad news.

She didn’t know if she actually liked Elizabeth Webber, but after everything they’d been through together, the least Carly owed Jason and Elizabeth was civility and her support.

She eyed her husband, pouring yet another bourbon at the minibar. Since Sonny was determined to be a jackass—

Her phone rang and Carly almost fumbled it in her haste to open it, but—” Oh, hey, Mama. No, he didn’t call me yet. You either?”

Sonny turned to look at her, a questioning look in his eyes. She silently shook her head as Bobbie continued to talk. “Oh, man. I mean…you warned me, I guess. Yeah. Okay. We’ll deal with it. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault. I’ll call you if I hear anything.”

Carly closed her phone, then pressed it to her forehead, silently counting to five before looking at her husband. “She was calling because she got a subpoena from Ric.”

Sonny grimaced but sighed. “That makes sense. She was there the day you were found and helped look—” He stared at her. “What?”

“She was also there when you had your breakdown, Sonny. And she didn’t tell Scott outright, but he knew enough that the judge decided it was Brady material—” When Sonny scowled, she hurried to add, “He would have been in trouble if he didn’t turn over whatever he knew about you—”

“Fucking Baldwin,” Sonny muttered. He threw back his bourbon. “So, your mother is just going to spill her guts? She could get in trouble for giving me that injection, you know? Why doesn’t she plead the Fifth?”

“No one who knows about that is going to tell anyone.” Carly pulled herself to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. “What’s the big problem, Sonny? Even if Ric makes you testify about your breakdown, it doesn’t change anything—”

“If you would just let me take care of that little fucker, we wouldn’t have to worry about this!” Sonny roared. “And now my mental health is going to be on everyone’s lips! I’m gonna look even weaker than I already do!”

Carly rolled her eyes. “Oh, God, Sonny, is that what you’re worried about? Typical. You had a breakdown because I was gone. That just makes you sympathetic—”

“You think Anthony Zacchara is going to find me sympathetic?” Sonny demanded as he stalked towards her. “What about Hector Ruiz or Sammy Tagliatti? You think any one of them is going to think it’s no big deal that I was hallucinating my dead wife?”

She exhaled slowly. “We talked about this. You’re not touching Ric. Not before the trial—”

“You know if I get rid of that asshole DA, that would take care of this too,” Sonny muttered. “Get rid of Baldwin, and the case gets postponed. No trial. No deal.”

Carly’s blood felt frozen beneath her skin as she stared at her husband. “Are you—are you threatening the district—you’re not serious, are you? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You seem to forget who I am, Carly.” Sonny pressed a hand to his chest, his eyes bulging with fury. “I am fucking Sonny Corinthos and no one is going to make me look weak. The only reason Ric is still alive is—” He shook his head and turned away from her.

Pressure built behind her eyes as she struggled to form the next words. “Because Jason refused to do anything. And you don’t have the connections to do it without him.” She fisted her hands at her side. “What, did Jason tell everyone who works under you to leave Ric alone? Did you already try to give the order, Sonny? After everything we talked about—did you try to have Ric killed?”

Sonny didn’t answer her and just poured himself another drink.

“If you touch Scott Baldwin, if you go after Ric, Sonny, after everything we’ve talked about—everything I’ve been through—” Tears slid down her cheek. “That’s it. I’m gone. We’re done.”

He turned back to look at her. “Well, maybe that would be for the best,” he said simply.

Her heart pounding, she nodded. “Yeah, maybe it is. I’ll have Leticia pack Michael up. We’ll go to my mother’s.”

And when Sonny didn’t say anything else, Carly went upstairs and started to pack.

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Taggert had planned to visit Chicago to interview Theresa Lopez, the victim of the April 1999 attack, but he’d gotten lucky — she had flown in for her grandmother’s birthday and agreed to talk to him. Even better, he’d finally managed to convince all three victims from earlier that year to talk to him as well. Provided they met out in the open, away from the PCPD, and not in their own homes.

He spoke to Theresa first. She was no more than five foot three, maybe a hundred and ten pounds with brown eyes and pale skin. In the photos taken in the hospital four years earlier, her had been a deep chestnut brown, worn long with a tendency to curl.

Her attacker, the report read, had wrapped that hair around his first. Smelled it. Commented on it.

It was now short, in what his ex-girlfriend Hannah Scott had called a pixie cut, he remembered. And ash blonde.

He couldn’t blame her.

“Did you find him?” she asked flatly after she took a seat across the table from him, a large flowered purse held in her lap, her arms wrapped around it as if she could use it as a weapon any moment.

“No,” Taggert admitted. “But we have a lead—”

“Great. A lead,” she repeated, those eyes flashing. “You brought this back because maybe—”

“We’ve linked your case to others,” Taggert cut in as gently as possible. “Your kit was processed and came back with a match to a few other open cases. There’s no hit in the national database, but if his profile is ever put in there, we’ll be able to match it. But we’re actively pursuing him, Ms. Lopez.”

Her shoulders deflated and she looked away. “They didn’t test it back then. No suspect. It made no damn sense to me, you know? How the hell do you get a suspect without—” She shook her head. “And the first cop was an ass. He blamed me.”

As that first cop had been that lazy son of a bitch Vinnie Esposito, this didn’t surprise him in the slightest. “You don’t need this from me, but it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, well thousands of dollars in therapy later,” she muttered. She huffed, looked at him. “What do you need from me?”

Taggert hesitated. “I need to take your statement. The one we have is a bit…” Incomplete. Half-assed. “There are questions you weren’t asked. Some ground I wanted to cover.”

“Because there’s this link, you said.” Theresa nodded.

She’d gone to the movies with a friend, she told him. A girl friend, so they’d met there and parted ways. She didn’t have a car then and the theater wasn’t far from her house. If she cut across Port Charles Park, she could be home in ten minutes.

“But I tripped over a stupid rock,” Theresa sighed. “Or a crack in the pavement. I don’t remember now. My sneaker was untied, so I stopped at the fountain.”

“Which one?”

“The one on the north side of the park, closer to the movie theater. It wasn’t really cold. One of the first nights it wasn’t freezing, so I only had a windbreaker on. I sat on the bench, before I could tie my shoe…” Theresa looked away. “He grabbed me. I kicked, tried to scream. I never did see that sneaker again. Flew right off my foot.”

It was sitting in an evidence bag, found soaking wet in the fountain when the crime scene investigators had swept the scene, but Taggert didn’t tell her that.

“He threw me to the ground,” Theresa said, her voice as flat and lifeless. “And he hit me. Hard in the face. And he grabbed my head, slammed it against the ground. I—I saw stars for a minute and by the time I could breathe—he’d flipped me on my stomach and handcuffed me.”

Taggert’s pencil slipped and he looked up. “Handcuffed.”

“Easier to hold me down when I can’t use my hands.” Theresa pressed her lips together. “I guess. I don’t know. He put me on my back. God, my fucking hands hurt. I was terrified, but all I could think was how tight the cuffs were. I didn’t—I didn’t tell that other cop that. I didn’t remember it.”

“It’s okay—”

“I didn’t remember most of it,” she admitted. “Not until later. When my parents made me go to therapy after I tried to kill myself the first time.”  She picked up the glass of water, her hands shaking a little. “But now it’s all I can remember. How much my hands hurt, how my shoulders felt like the muscles were being ripped into two. I guess it distracted me, because the next thing I knew, my jeans were off, and—”

Her voice broke. She took a deep breath. A huge gulp of water. Taggert said nothing, just sat there. Let her do it in her own way.

“He jammed himself inside me, and God it, hurt so fucking much. I wasn’t a virgin, I’d had one boyfriend steady since I was a freshman. Was having sex regularly. I tell you that because I know how it’s supposed to feel—”

“Theresa—”

Her eyes fastened on his. “It’s the only way I got through it.  I cried to my boyfriend in the hospital. I’d felt like I cheated on him, and God, he just—he never said a word against me. I pushed him away. Refused to see him, and he stuck. We’re still together.” She flattened her hand on the table. And now he saw a tiny diamond glinting. “Maybe we wouldn’t have made it if this happened, but he stuck with me through this and I guess once you go through the worst thing and get through the other side, all the other drama seems like bullshit.”

She exhaled slowly. “I don’t know how long it took. It felt like forever. And it felt like a few seconds. He had his hand in my hair the whole time. Talked about how nice it smelled, but it wasn’t the best. It wasn’t right,” she said slowly. “That’s what he said.  He finished, hit me a few more times—and the last time, he hit me so hard, I blacked out. That’s why it got reported. Because I was unconscious, and someone found me. I don’t know if I would have called anyone, and after I met Officer Fuckface, I didn’t want to keep going. Another guy came later. Garcia or something. He was nicer, but I couldn’t—after the first one, I just didn’t want to talk to the PCPD anymore.”

Taggert hesitated. “I’m sorry—”

“He told me that maybe I shouldn’t walk at night,” Theresa said flatly. “Like I’m not a fucking taxpayer. Like it’s my fault some asshole needed to prove something to himself. But I didn’t get angry then. I blamed myself. And after the first six months, I took a bunch of pills and tried to make it stop. But my mom found me and committed me to the psych ward. Told me I had to do something. My boyfriend cried. My dad cried.”

She looked at her hands. “I’d never seen either of them do that and I guess I realized what it would do to them. Even if my pain stopped, theirs would just start. And I didn’t want that. So, I went to therapy. And I got through it.

“Did any of that help?” Theresa asked after a long moment.

“Yeah.” Taggert set his pen down. “I’m sorry that the first cop you talked to was an asshole.  I can’t make excuses for him. And I wish I could promise you I’ll get him. That’s not a guarantee I can make.”

“I guess not.”

“But this case is all I’m working on,” he continued. “And I’m not going to give up until there’s nothing left to do.”

“You said there were others,” Theresa said. “How many?”

“Six,” he admitted. “One before you. Another after you. And then nothing until four this year.”

“Four this year.” She exhaled slowly. “He’s still…he’s still out there.”

“Yeah. But…” He looked at her hair. “Keep the blonde hair. Keep it short.”

“All long-haired brunettes.” Theresa nodded. “I was thinking about growing it out for the wedding next year, but I think I’ll go get my roots touched up.”

She left then, and a half hour later, Dana Watson arrived. She was only twenty-one and according to the photos, in February, she’d been a brunette with long, curly hair.

It was now a chin-length bob, worn stick straight and dyed a firetruck red. And her story was similar to Theresa Lopez. Identical, even, Taggert thought as he considered it later. On her way home from the movies. Had stopped by the angel fountain to check the time on her cell phone because she’d forgotten to put on her watch that morning.

Grabbed. Handcuffed. Hit. Her attacker had also commented on her hair. Had also smelled it. Said it wasn’t right. Had hit her hard enough to knock her unconscious.

Her story, Taggert thought later at his desk at the station, was all but identical to all the other statements. After Theresa and Dana, he’d also met with Renee and Wendy. He’d talked to Veronica Logan on the phone earlier that morning, the last victim from the first round of attacks.

All of them had described stopping at a fountain in the park, being grabbed. Handcuffed, then hit. The attacker had smelled their hair—

And then hit them hard enough to cause unconsciousness when it didn’t smell right.

While Elizabeth’s statement hadn’t been very detailed—Taggert knew she hadn’t remembered a lot of the attack during that first interview—he knew her case was different. She’d walked away from her attack and didn’t report being hit in the face at all.

He wondered, with therapy and the passage of time, if she’d remember any comments about her hair or if she’d been handcuffed. Had that detail come back to her like it had for Theresa?

Six young women with long brown hair had been attacked after her and had been told their hair wasn’t right. They’d been beaten more. Knocked unconscious for someone else to find. It was possible Elizabeth had just been his first victim, someone who whet the appetite for more brutality and sadism, but there was also the distinct possibility that somehow…

Elizabeth had been the trigger, the victim he kept searching out, the attack he kept trying to recreate.

Taggert exhaled slowly and pushed the files away. He’d put it off long enough, but it was time to bring Elizabeth into the investigation.

Port Charles Airport: Arrivals Hall

Kelsey exhaled slowly as she studied the notes Lucky had passed her when they’d left work that night, heading to the airport. She wasn’t nervous.

Not even a little bit.

She’d already met his aunt and his sister. They liked her. Lucky got along with her mother and hadn’t even scowled at Scott Baldwin the night she’d dragged him to dinner with her boss.

Two months into their relationship, everything was going great. They clicked intellectually, he was sexy as hell, great in bed, funny—

Outside of a dormant blood feud with some supervillain and a bout of brainwashing, Lucky Spencer was basically perfect.

So, what the hell was her problem?

Lucky reached over and put a hand on her knee. Kelsey scowled down at it—she hadn’t even realized it was bouncing up and down and she restlessly tapped her foot. “I’m not nervous.”

“Right.”

“I met your aunt.”

“I know.”

“And your sister is crazy. I think she asked me a thousand questions and if she weren’t only eighteen, I’d be worried she was running a background check. But she likes me.”

“So does my aunt.”

Kelsey narrowed her eyes at his easy tone. “I’m not nervous. He’s just your brother.” She huffed. “A Russian prince who has more money than God, a villainous grandmother, and a castle in the middle of the lake. Completely normal.”

“He is normal.” Lucky reached for her hand, covered it with his. “He used to have a giant stick up his ass, but we yanked it out years ago.”

She laughed, rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, that’s a weird thing for brothers to do, but whatever.” She glanced back up at the arrivals board. The private flight from London had landed, which meant the prince was somewhere in Customs. “I guess you read over Taggert’s interview notes from today.”

“Yeah.” Lucky took them back from her. “He’s going to talk to Elizabeth tomorrow. I guess he wants to give her one more night before—”

“All of these women—” Kelsey shook her head. “And the way they talked about the responding officer—Vinnie’s not just lazy, Lucky. He’s a misogynistic asshole who has no business being anywhere near rape victims. And apparently, he was in Special Victims while he was in Buffalo. How many women did he chase away? Did he scare? Blame?”

“Yeah. I know. I read the notes from Theresa’s interview. She attempted suicide six months later. With pills. Just like Brooke.” Lucky was quiet for a long moment. “We put them all through this again, but what did we even learn? Nothing.”

“Hey. Don’t count the statements out yet. We’ll get Elizabeth to come in, do her own follow-up, and then we’ll look at all the cases together. So much about them is the same, you know? But where they’re different—” She touched his arm. “That’s how we’re going to get him. He’s not a mastermind, Lucky. He’s just a sick, sadistic asshole. We know him now.”

“Yeah. Well, we’ll see.” Lucky gestured as a man with dark hair walked through the door of the arrival hall, a few men behind him pushing a baggage cart. “Come meet my brother.”

Kelsey slid her files into her bag and put away dark thoughts of serial rapists. She rose to extend a hand to Nikolas Cassadine, who smiled warmly at her and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “It’s nice to meet you in person.”

“You, as well.” Nikolas released her hand, then rested it on his brother’s shoulder with a teasing grin. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lucky rolled his eyes but embraced his brother. “You still up for dinner or do you want to head home to get some sleep?”

“I slept on the plane, and I’m looking forward to getting to know Kelsey. You’ve managed to win over our sister, Miss Joyce,” Nikolas said as he took Kelsey’s arm in his. “Do you know hard it is to impress Lesly Lu Spencer?”

“Hopefully harder than it is to impress a Russian prince,” Kelsey offered as they started out of airport. “But I guess we’ll find out.”

PCPD: Conference Room

 Scott leaned back in the chair and grimaced. “Any idea why Elizabeth wanted to meet with the both of us?” he asked Taggert as the lieutenant took his seat. “You think she knows about her case?”

“I don’t know,” Taggert said, tossing a folder on the table. “Spencer swears up and down that he didn’t tell her—that he’s not in any hurry to bring that up for her either. Maybe it’s about the Lansing case.” He shrugged. “Maybe she’s changed her mind about not wanting to go to trial.”

Scott’s grimace deepened. “I could live with that, but—”

The door opened then, and another officer stuck his head in the door. “Miss Webber is here. You ready for her?”

“Yeah, let her in.” Both Scott and Taggert stood as Elizabeth entered in, one of her hands clutching the strap of her purse at the shoulder. “Elizabeth, what’s on your mind?” Scott asked as he gestured for her to take a seat.

“Oh. Well…” Elizabeth sat and waited for them both to retake their seats. “I wanted you both to be the first—well, the first outside of my friends and family to know—because I don’t want either of you to be surprised if it ends up in my medical reports for the trial.” She looked at Scott. “I’m pregnant.”

There was a long beat of silence as Scott digested that news, then looked at Taggert who looked very uncomfortable. “Ah—”

“My doctors—Monica and the OB I’m seeing—they’re going to do what they can to keep it from being obvious. Monica ran some tests at my checkup which gave the positive result, but while she’s consulting with my OB, her name never appears in the file.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I don’t think this counts as something you’d have to tell Ric, right?”

“Ah…” Scott pressed his lips together, still a little thrown. “Ah, no. I don’t think so. I mean, I have to tell him anything that might be evidence of his innocence.” He furrowed his brow. “Maybe if it discredits a witness or contradicts them, but I’ve got a lot of leeway with discretion.” He looked at Taggert. “Now, Ric would claim it’s evidence of an affair, am I right?”

“Yeah, probably.” Taggert cleared his throat, fidgeting slightly in his seat. “But I filed a report on the assault charges at the time. It was, and remains, my official opinion that the Sun was fed a false story in order to shake up the case. That’s the official PCPD statement as well, and Capelli was reprimanded for it.”

He looked at Elizabeth. “Are…are you okay? I mean, it’s not too soon?”

“My OB is optimistic that as long as I try to avoid stress and monitor my vitals I should be okay, but I was worried that Ric might get this information as part of my medical records, and I wanted you to be prepared for it, Mr. Baldwin.”

“Well, I appreciate that, Elizabeth. Like I said, there are a couple of things I’m being forced to hand over to Lansing—because he’s specifically requested it. If, as you say, the breadcrumbs are in your file and he doesn’t notice it, then, well…” Scott shrugged. “Not my problem, right?”

Elizabeth visibly relaxed, her shoulder slumping. “Thank you. I—I’ll be relocating to the Towers, though, starting this weekend. With Ric out on bail, even with the protective order, we’re both worried what he might do if he does figure out I’m pregnant.”

“After what he did when he just thought you were having an affair, I think that’s probably a smart move.”

Elizabeth thanked them again, then left. Scott turned to Taggert and just stared at him, the cop looking down almost blindly at the table.

“Avoid stress,” Scott repeated. “She’s supposed to avoid stress at the same time I’m prepping her to testify against a man who tried to kill her and—” He scowled, thinking back to the therapy notes he’d read. He knew more about Elizabeth Webber’s psyche than he ever needed to know anyone’s. “You’re investigating her rape which was bungled by the cops—”

“It’s more than that,” Taggert said with a sigh. “I interviewed the last of the previous victims today and started to really put together a picture of this guy. Scott, I don’t think Elizabeth is just the first known victim—she might be the first victim. The trigger victim. I think this guy knows her.”

“Fuck me.” Scott scrubbed his hands over his face. “Tell me everything.”

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
– Mad World, Gary Jules

---

Wednesday, September 10, 2003

PCPD: Squad Room

Vinnie shook his head vehemently as he read through the report Taggert had written, linking together the first trio of cases. “No way in hell,” he muttered as he flipped through the statements. “No way I could have made the connection. They were months, years apart. The profiles didn’t match—”

Taggert sighed, rubbed his eyes. “No one is blaming you for not linking these,” he told the younger man, patiently. It was a demoralizing feeling to know that you had failed the people you were supposed to protect, even when you were doing your best to do the job. “You were a patrol officer when the Webber and Lopez cases happened—”

“I—” Vinnie exhaled slowly. “But I should have seen it, I guess. All in the park. All near a fountain.” He shifted at his desk, uncomfortable. “And there’s DNA?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think we’d get hits on all the cases, but maybe this asshole is either dumb as a rock or too cocky that we won’t catch him.” Taggert shrugged. “After five years, he’s probably just used to getting away with it. That’s why he’s not changing his signature.”

“Signature?” Vinnie frowned. “What, the fountain?”

“He’s hit all four fountains almost twice. The only one he hasn’t gone after again is the Martin Memorial for some reason.” Taggert rubbed his chin.

“Well it wasn’t there before 2001.” Vinnie furrowed his brow. “Yeah — I think they built it after I moved to Buffalo. I remember coming home that summer and reading about it.”

“So, he hasn’t gotten around to it.” Taggert made a notation to double check that information. “Well, we got uniforms all over the park now. He won’t be able to do this crap again.”

Vinnie was quiet for a long moment. “I thought they caught the guy in the Webber case,” he said finally. “What’s the deal with that?”

“It’s a long story,” Taggert replied, leaving it at that. “Look, no one blames you—”

“You don’t blame me, maybe, but I bet when this hits the papers, the mayor is going to come for my ass. Ashton is kicking him up and down the street in the polls now.” Vinnie shook his head. “No, they’re going to make me the bad guy.”

“Maybe,” Taggert allowed, but he privately agreed. Floyd was nothing if not selfish and conniving. He’d already sacrificed innocent women to maintain his public profile. What were the odds a lazy, idiot cop like Vinnie would escape the pressure? “Look, I’ll do what I can. You’re not on this case officially which should smooth a lot of feathers. If they think you screwed up before, we’ll just remind them what you were working with. An understaffed unit without much of a budget for lab work.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s time to think about a transfer,” Vinnie muttered. “I never should have come back to Port Charles. What a goddamn waste of my time.”

General Hospital: Monica’s Office

Monica was both pleased and a little bit worried when her receptionist reported that her son was there to see her. In the months since Carly’s kidnapping and Elizabeth’s illness, she was happy that her relationship with Jason had taken a more positive turn but that didn’t mean he dropped in for no reason at all.

She’d been thinking about Jason and Elizabeth since Elizabeth’s appointment a few days earlier, worrying over them. She’d even spent some time with Lila and Emily as they worried together. She worried Elizabeth might make a decision she’d regret later—or that this might lead to a setback and another blood clot.

There was only so much Monica could control with medical treatments. So much of medicine was still up to the individual and the universe.

“Jason, hello. I wasn’t expecting you.” She embraced him lightly and quickly, which he allowed, and she savored. “I don’t have to guess why you’re here.”

“I know you can’t tell me anything about her case,” Jason told her as they sat on the small sofa in the corner of her office. “I guess…” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m here, not really.” He looked at her. “You were honest with me when Elizabeth was in the hospital. You told me it’d be a miracle if she survived after the cardiac arrest.”

“We were lucky,” Monica admitted. “I’ve had other patients under similar circumstances that didn’t make it.” She pursed her lips. “I hate telling you how much of this is a crap shoot, Jason. The OB/GYN she’s seeing Friday will hopefully have some more concrete information for you.”

“If she were anyone else,” Jason said slowly, as he stared down at his hands. “Would you recommend going through with the pregnancy?”

Monica bit her lip. “It’s not my position to say one way or the other, Jason. Have you and Elizabeth talked about this?”

“Yeah.” He sat back and scrubbed his face with his hands. “She brought up not having the baby, but—I know this is something she wants. It’s something I want. Just…not like this. Not when we have to think about what it might cost us.”

“Jason—”

He shook his head. “But I know I’ve come down too hard on making safe choices, and she doesn’t want to live like that. Maybe everything will be fine.”

“And it might very well be, Jason. She’ll have the best medical care money can offer,” Monica reminded him. “Access to the best doctors in the state, if not the country. Any medicine she needs. Any scans. Weekly visits if that’s what Dr. Lee recommends. I know you’re worried. Jason—” She touched his forearm, waiting until he turned to look at her. “I know what it was like to wait that night in the hospital. To watch her struggle for breath and her heart stop in front of you. I’ve been through it with your father and his heart problems. With Edward and his.”

“All the money in the world doesn’t make her body stronger,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t change the fact that she was drugged for months, had a miscarriage, an overdose, an embolism, cardiac arrest—Monica, is she really strong enough to do this?”

“I can tell you that her scans are clear for blood clots,” Monica said. “That while I worry about long term organ problems, we haven’t detected any damage to either her heart or her lungs. That doesn’t mean they’re in perfect condition, but Elizabeth recovered from all of that as well as anyone could after two months.”

Jason didn’t say anything, so Monica continued. “I understand being terrified for the person you love. Being afraid to hope for the best because you’re not used to the universe being on your side.”

“Elizabeth—” Jason took a deep breath. “She said we got a miracle this summer. When she didn’t die. And she’s afraid—I’m afraid that she’s right. How many miracles do we get? How many times does she get to risk her life without—”

“There’s another way of looking at what happened this summer,” Monica told him. “I have to believe that maybe Elizabeth was spared—if she fought back because this is what was supposed to happen. Maybe this baby—this child neither of you planned but both of you want—maybe this is the miracle you were waiting for.”

“I don’t know if I can believe that. If I can…” Jason shook his head, falling silent. “But that’s the kind of thing that Elizabeth could believe. I don’t really have dreams, not like she does. She’s always been able to look at things and see the good in them.”

“I will be here for you any time you want to worry without making Elizabeth upset,” Monica offered. “And you know that your grandmother and sister will be here for you both. I hope for the best after your doctor’s appointment, Jason, I really do. I want to see you happy—I want you to both be happy.”

Kelly’s: Courtyard

“I feel like I haven’t done anything except worry and think about this,” Elizabeth said with a sigh as Georgie served her and Bobbie their lunches.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Bobbie offered as Georgie went back inside. “We can talk about something else. Anything else.”

“Like what?” Elizabeth muttered, stabbing at her salad. “The mayoral race? Where poor Brooke Lynn gets dragged through the mud every five minutes by Floyd and his team?” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not good company today.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to be any kind of company for me,” Bobbie told her. “We can just sit here and eat quietly. We can talk about television. Bad music.”

Elizabeth set her fork down and looked at Bobbie. “The thing is that I think I know what I want to do. I’m just…I’m scared that this doctor will tell me something that will make me change my mind or that I’ll look at Jason and how worried he is—” She bit her lip.

Bobbie moved to the seat directly next to Elizabeth so she could take the younger woman’s hand in hers. “You have to do what’s right for you. And that’s such a useless thing to say because how do you even know what’s right for you?”

“I just…I’m scared of the risks, but part of me is…I’m really happy. Losing the baby in May—even with everything I know about how the drugs Ric gave me might have hurt her, even knowing it was Ric’s child—” Her voice was tight as she tried to force the words out. “I wanted that baby more than I ever thought I would. And now, to have another chance at being a mother, to create a family with Jason—this is everything I ever wanted in my life. And I can’t stand the idea that Ric might take this away from me, too.”

“Sweetheart—”

“I hate that he’s still in my life. Even when he’s not actually here in Port Charles, even when I’m not thinking about the trial, the reason I don’t get to be excited about being a mother is because he stole it from me. I can’t let him keep running my life.”

“That’s true,” Bobbie said slowly, “but—”

“I just want Jason to be happy, too. I don’t want him to spend the next eight months with that look on his face—I want him to be excited—” Elizabeth shook her head and shoved her plate away, her appetite disappearing. “Everything about our life together so far has been haunted by Ric. We couldn’t even have sex without an oxygen mask nearby—’” She broke off, flushed. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry that this is happening,” Bobbie told her. “And you’re not wrong to worry that it will be difficult for Jason to see this as a blessing. But you’re seeing the doctor on Friday. And she might give you guys something more concrete to hold on to. You’re both getting yourselves so worried and caught up in something that might not end up being that serious.”

“I keep telling myself that, but it doesn’t seem to work.” She sighed. “And if we do go through with it, of course, I’m worried about what happens with the trial. I mean, Ric’s kept away from us, but—” She met Bobbie’s eyes. “He went insane after I lost the baby. I mean, he was already pretty far gone before that. I know that now. But he kidnapped Carly to get to her baby. He wanted to replace our child with hers. And now…”

“And now you’re pregnant.” Bobbie sat back in her chair. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Can I even keep this from him? It doesn’t feel like it’s relevant, but maybe…” Elizabeth bit her lip. “It’s just one more thing Ric is controlling, and I hate it. I should…if I go through with it and keep the baby, I should warn Scott. But then is he honor bound to turn it over?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Bobbie admitted. “But let’s take this one step at a time and get you through this appointment. We can cross all those bridges after that. And you know you’re not going through this alone. You or Jason. I’m here for you. Emily. Monica. I’m sure Lila. And Edward—” Bobbie pursed her lips. “Well, we’ll see what works out. Oh!” Bobbie snapped her fingers. “And I completely forgot — Nikolas is coming home on Friday.”

“Oh?” Elizabeth managed a smile. “I knew he was planning it soon, but that was more quickly than I expected. What about the rest of the family? Is Laura coming home, too?”

“Laura will be transferred to Shadybrooke in another month,” Bobbie said, “but Nikolas seems to think she’ll be on outpatient treatment soon. She might even be home by Thanksgiving.”

“Well, that’s good news. I know how hard it’s been for your family since she got sick.” Elizabeth grimaced as her phone rang. “One second.” She opened the phone and her scowl deepened. “Sarah. Hey—really? Okay. Okay. Sure. Yeah, I—I’ll figure something out.”

After the brief conversation, Elizabeth tossed her phone in her purse. “First time I’ve heard from her since Gram died.”

“What did she want?” Bobbie asked as Elizabeth started to search for her wallet. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. She’s interviewing for a position at Mercy tomorrow and her hotel reservation got lost.” She managed a humorless smile. “She wanted to know if she could stay with me.”

“With you?” Bobbie repeated. “That’s…”

“Not something I need right now. The idea of my sister in the same city as me, even if it’s across town—” Elizabeth tossed some bills down. “Maybe Jason and I can avoid her, and she can stay at my place while we go to the penthouse or something.”

“Do you have to go take care of it now?”

“Yeah, I have to give her name to the guards in the front lobby, so they’ll let her in. She’s at the airport now.” Elizabeth got to her feet. “I’m…I don’t know how much she knows about what’s going on, so if you see her—”

“I won’t say a word.” Bobbie hugged her. “Good luck. And call me tomorrow.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Mac stared down at the report Taggert had prepared, including the lab reports and the more detailed statements from the victims who had agreed to be re-interviewed.

It was like a shot to the gut to realize just how badly he had handled the sexual assault cases during his tenure—how incredibly he had failed the women he had sworn to protect.

“Mac, I need to understand,” Taggert said, drawing his attention up to look at his lieutenant seated across from him. “I need to understand what happened with Elizabeth Webber’s case. Because she’s going to ask, and I can’t—” He shook his head. “I won’t lie to her. I won’t pretend that she wasn’t lied to. We told her that the dress came back negative.”

Mac exhaled slowly. “You have to understand that I honestly thought Tom Baker was the guy. I believed her—I still believe—that he said something to her, that he did something that convinced Elizabeth that he had confessed. I believed her.”

“I did, too,” Taggert admitted. “I went back and looked at the statement — based on her own words, she said it first. And he ran with it. He repeated a phrase her rapist had used—and Elizabeth accused him of being the guy. I think he ran with it to control the situation. To get her locked up so he could escape.” He rubbed his head. “Knowing now that he’s been excluded, that makes sense. But then—I wanted to believe it was him, too. Because I wanted that nightmare to be over.”

He shook his head. “That doesn’t explain what you did with the rape kit—”

“Floyd was concerned that Baker’s case would drag on,” Mac cut in with a weary sigh. “Edward Quartermaine was putting all kinds of pressure on him because of Emily’s involvement, and when I told him that we wouldn’t be able to fast-track the trial because of the rape investigation—because it would take six weeks, maybe more to get those results back—he hit the roof.”

“He wasn’t even up for election,” Taggert said, his lips curling in disgust. “Why the hell—”

“Because he was, and remains, terrified of pissing off the Quartermaines. He wants me to feed the department to the wolves and blame my officers for this rape case—he’s going to want Vinnie’s head on a stick so he can parade it around.” Mac rubbed his eyes. “But I thought Baker was the guy. And I thought—well, maybe I can spare her the trial. I can make it so this is easier for Elizabeth. She doesn’t have to go up and confront him. He was gonna go down for twenty-five years on the kidnapping charges. So, I told you I’d take care of the kit but that we were going to mark it for cold storage.”

Taggert shook his head. “That doesn’t explain—”

“At the trial, after Elizabeth accused Baker in open court—Edward Quartermaine made another call. He hadn’t known the rape case was part of this. Had no idea what had happened to Elizabeth. He wanted Floyd to do something to help her. To make it better.”

“So why—”

“Because of the mistrial. We were lucky to get that quick date in December. The next opening wasn’t until March — and a rape investigation might not have been done by then. Floyd did not want this case dragging through the spring and into the election season. He wanted me to make it go away. And by then, Dara Jensen was worried that she might not be able to convict him at a second trial. She wanted to make a deal.”

“So why falsify the lab report?” Taggert demanded. “Why bury her damn case, Mac?”

“Because Floyd needed the Quartermaines off his back.” Mac shook his head. “Making it look like that case could never get off the ground. Baker goes to jail for five to fifteen years and we give Edward Quartermaine the news that there simply wasn’t enough evidence to go after him on the rape. The report was supposed to back that up if anyone looked. And…”

“You made sure no one looked.” Taggert glared at him. “What the hell is wrong with you? You hid her file, you went out of your way—”

“I thought Baker was the guy. I was trying to protect her and Emily. And my job, yeah.” Mac’s stomach twisted. “Because I had a family, too. And Floyd threatened to fire me. I put it away. I had to. And then Sonny Corinthos was back, and the mob wars started again—I got distracted. The garage fire. The Cassadine crap.”

“You threw her away, Mac. You and Floyd. And you made me part of it.” Taggert shook his head. “Two more women were raped after Elizabeth. Then four more this year. All of that we could have stopped—”

“Could we have?” Mac demanded. “Doesn’t change the fact that we didn’t have the money to change the policy on testing rape kits. Didn’t change the fact that senior officers flee this town like their asses are on fire. That second part is on me—I’ll admit it. The PCPD isn’t such a great place to work. But I did the best I could—”

“Yeah, well, your best isn’t good enough.” Taggert’s mouth twisted as he got to his feet. “Six women were traumatized because you wanted to keep your job.” He raised his brows. “But you won’t have to worry about that for too long, will you, Mac? Latest polls show that Ned Ashton is going to clean Floyd’s clock in two months.”

“And until then, you still work for me,” Mac reminded him, getting to his feet. “I made mistakes. I’m not perfect. But don’t pretend that you’re any better than me. We’ve all been selfish. We’ve all ignored the oath we swore—so how about you stop standing in judgment of me and go do your damn job.”

Elizabeth’s Condo: Living Room

Sarah had left Port Charles the year before to take up a residency program in Los Angeles, and she and Elizabeth had barely stayed in touch. A few phone calls around the time their grandmother had died—mostly Sarah making her excuses for not being able to make it and sending her bank account information so that Elizabeth could transfer her inheritance.

She met her sister in the lobby of the building, finding Sarah eying the men behind the desk with an air of suspicion. “Sarah, uh, hey.”

Awkwardly, they embraced, then Elizabeth led her to the elevators. “What brings you back to Port Charles?” she asked as they stepped into the car.

“Oh. Well, after Gram died, I felt bad about not being around more,” Sarah offered, with a shrug. “I don’t want to work at General Hospital—too much pressure to live up to Gramps and Dad, I think. But Mercy offered a fellowship.” She glanced at her sister. “Last time I was here, you were living in that rat trap on the docks. This is an upgrade.”

“Yeah, Nikolas helped me find it,” Elizabeth said, as the doors slid open and they started down the hall. “I only have the one bedroom, so you can stay here tonight. Jason and I are going to his place.”

“Jason?” Sarah repeated. She waited as Elizabeth unlocked her door. “You guys got back together?” She set her overnight bag on the sofa and started to walk around the room, checking inside the bathroom before heading for the kitchen. Elizabeth rolled her eyes as her sister inspected her apartment like it was a goddamn hotel room.

Sarah would never change, and in a lot of ways, there was a comfort in knowing that.

“Something like that,” Elizabeth said as she took her own overnight bag out of her closet and started to toss some things into it, from both her drawers and closet as well as Jason’s drawer.

“I knew you got married and you were separated—is that someone else? Steven didn’t know the details.” Sarah wrinkled her nose. “But that last part didn’t sound like you.” She sat on the side of the bed, then frowned. She tugged on a piece of the plastic tubing that connected the mask to the oxygen mask. “What is this?”

Elizabeth sighed, wishing she’d had advance notice of her sister’s visit so she could have packed in advance. She took both pieces from her sister and tucked into the bag. “I got sick this summer—”

“Elizabeth—” Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, and just looked at her with those sad eyes Elizabeth remembered all too well. “I know we’re not close, but why didn’t you—”

“I couldn’t.” Elizabeth sighed. “I had a pulmonary embolism and went into cardiac arrest. Sometimes I have trouble breathing, but it’s mostly—it’s a long story, Sarah. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Cardiac—” Sarah’s face was pale as she pressed her fingers to her lips. “Jesus, Liz. Are you serious?”

“Yes, but I really am okay now.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “Look, yes, I got pregnant and married the father. He turned out to be…not a great guy on a lot of levels, okay? I lost the baby, and then later, I found out he was drugging me with birth control pills to keep me from getting pregnant again. That’s how I got the embolism. It was rough for a while, but I got better, and I’m okay now. I also filed for divorce. Jason and I got back together because after all of that, the reasons we were apart seemed incredibly stupid.”

Sarah blinked at her, then shook her head. “That can’t be all of it, Elizabeth. Something like that—why didn’t Nikolas or Lucky call me? Why didn’t Emily?”

“Because they didn’t. It’s—” Elizabeth met her sister’s eyes. “It’s really not something I want to go into right now, but if you end up coming back to Port Charles — if you take the job at Mercy, then we can get into it. Okay? You’re only in town for a night. Do you want to get dinner? Jason and I were going to go to Eli’s.”

“Okay. If Jason wouldn’t mind me tagging along.” Sarah folded her arms, looked away. “I should have come home for Gram. I should have been here for you—for her. I just—it’s hard to be here and not at the house. To know she and Gramps are both gone—it’s a lot harder than I thought it would be. But I should have been a better sister to you.”

“Well, as I learned this summer,” Elizabeth said after a long moment, “it’s never too late. C’mon. Jason and I are meeting at the restaurant.”

“Thank you for letting me stay on such short notice,” Sarah told her as the sisters headed for the doorway. “Really. I knew I could count on you.” She smiled, a bit of bitterness underneath it. “And I can’t say that about pretty much anything else.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Sarah—”

“I’m only in town for one night,” Sarah reminded her. “We’ll get into it if I move back home. Let’s go. I’ve missed Eli’s ribs and I want…I want to actually get to know Jason.”

What if I told your lies
What if you cried with my eyes
Could anyone keep us down
What if you were me
What if I were you
What if your hand was my hand
Could we hold on and let go
What if your life was my life
Can we love what we don’t know
– What If, Five For Fighting

---

Tuesday, September 9, 2003

 Quartermaine Estate: Garden

“Ugh. Why did I become a doctor again?” Emily demanded as she flopped down on the wicker loveseat next to Lila’s wheelchair and across from Elizabeth, seated in a wicker armchair. She’d just worked an overnight shift at General Hospital.  “You know, Mom and Dad made this crap look easy—”

“I tried to remind you you’re not a morning person,” Elizabeth said with a half-smile as she accepted the lemonade Reginald handed her before he refilled Lila’s glass and poured one for Emily. “But you wanted to be a doctor.”

“You love to say I told you so,” Emily muttered as she sipped her drink. “Hi, Grandmother.”

“Hello, dear. It’s nice of you to join us,” Lila said with her usual gracious smile. “Despite how tired you are. It makes me happy to have my darling girl home.” She hesitated. “I only wish Brooke Lynn could be here.”

“I know,” Emily said. “Lucky doesn’t talk much about the investigation, but at least there haven’t been more attacks.” She looked at Elizabeth. “What did you want to talk about? It sounded serious on the phone earlier.”

Elizabeth paused, unsure if she wanted to get into it around Lila, not wanting to worry the elderly woman after everything she had been through this summer. But she had always appreciated the relationship Lila had with the rest of the Quartermaines, especially Jason and Emily.  “I had my check up with Monica yesterday, and she told me something I wasn’t really expecting.” She bit her lip. “I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant,” Emily repeated, her eyes widening. She traded a look with her grandmother who, to her credit, looked as apprehensive as Elizabeth felt. “That’s…is that safe? I mean…”

“Monica said it’s not her area,” Elizabeth said. “And she wants me to talk to someone to specializes in high-risk pregnancies because…”

“Forgive me, my dear,” Lila said gently. “Is there a precise health concern or is Monica worried you haven’t entirely recovered?”

Remembering that Lila had had her children in the 1940s and might not be familiar with the risks they knew about now, Elizabeth told her about the blood clots and risk factors of embolisms in pregnancy as well as the probability that faulty condoms from an ELQ company might be to blame for the surprise. “The thing this, Monica said this isn’t an area that’s been studied a lot.”

“Yeah, women’s health is, like, at the bottom of the list,” Emily said, grimacing. “Robin complains about it when we email each other. She wants to specialize in medical research, but she had trouble getting funding for anything that didn’t benefit men more.” She rolled her eyes. “And God forbid we study pregnancy — I mean, women only keep the species going—”

“Darling,” Lila said, bringing Emily back to the conversation. She looked back to Elizabeth. “So there isn’t a lot that Monica can tell you?”

“Beyond the fact that, having already suffered a pulmonary embolism accompanied with cardiac arrest and a mild heart attack—” Elizabeth took a deep breath, because she couldn’t understand how that was her life. How that was now her medical history. “Having had those conditions, my risk level is elevated. There’s some thought that it drops after a year, then further after five. But nothing right on point about percentages.”

“And I guess she doesn’t really feel qualified to tell you how pregnancy might raise that risk factor,” Emily offered. “I mean, it does, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know. She thought so. I could have a blood clot tomorrow. Six months. Right after the birth. And I think she’s also worried about the stress on my heart and my lungs.” Elizabeth rubbed a restless hand against her chest. “Jason and I talked about having kids down the road, but this…this feels so soon.”

“What does Jason say, my dear?” Lila asked.

“All the right things,” Elizabeth said, shrugging one shoulder. “He’ll support me whatever I decide, but…he’s not telling me what he actually thinks. Maybe he’s afraid to sway me either way.”

“Maybe,” Emily admitted. “But you know he’s been…you guys have argued more than once about your health and recovery. He’s tried to step back from worrying too much.”

“I just…I don’t know what I want to do.” Elizabeth set her glass down on the little table in the middle before staring down at her lap, at her hands tightly clasped. “I want children. After the miscarriage, I knew it was something I really wanted. And Jason was such a good father to Michael. I know he wants children, too. But…”

“But at what cost?” Emily asked, tilting her head. “You’d be insane not to think about the alternatives, Elizabeth. There’s no law that says you have to have this baby because the Quartermaines are bad at making condoms.”

“I just…those last few hours before I collapsed — the chest pains, the struggle to breathe. I can remember that last phone call with Jason, trying to find the button to free Carly—and then everything just goes dark. I don’t even remember, not really, laying on the floor, talking to him. Waiting for the paramedics. And then when I woke up, it hurt to breathe. It took me almost a week before I could walk down the halls in the hospital. Two weeks before I could go home.”

“You came so close to dying.” Emily leaned forward. “I can still remember the fear in Bobbie’s voice when we talked on the phone, and I was terrified you might die before I could get home. Mom said it was that close. You almost died, Elizabeth. Don’t blame yourself for not wanting to do something that puts that back on the table.”

“But what if the way I feel is just that? It’s an emotion. I’m terrified, Emily,” Elizabeth admitted. “I don’t want to die…but I also don’t to turn away from something I know that I want because of how scared I am.”

She waited a long moment before continuing. “And I also…I’m also scared that if I were to—if I decided to terminate the pregnancy, I don’t know if that’s something Jason can live with.”

“I think,” Emily said, carefully, “that Jason would probably be okay. He’s always been logical about these kinds of things. If having kids right now is a risk to your life, can you honestly see Jason telling you he’d rather have the chance at a child than you?”

“No, but…” She bit her lip. “I don’t know. And I don’t even know how long I have to make up my mind.”

“I think you’re right,” Emily told her. “That right now, everything is an emotion. Mom even said this isn’t something she can really talk about with any expertise. She can talk about conditions to minimize another PE, but she doesn’t know if there are ways to do that with pregnancy. Make the appointment with the OB/GYN. Maybe what you’re worried about isn’t as bad as you think. Maybe it is. But at this point—”

“It’s all just worry and fears.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I can live with that. Wait to talk to the doctor.”

“And, my darling,” Lila said, “whatever you decide in the end, this family will support you.” She offered her hand. Elizabeth grasped it, taking her first easy breath since her appointment the day before.

Warehouse: Sonny’s Office

Jason had planned to talk to Sonny about Elizabeth’s pregnancy when he got to work that morning, hoping that Sonny might have something…anything to offer him in the way of comfort or advice. He’d always been able to take his problems to Sonny in the beginning of their friendship, but Jason could see now he’d been doing that less and less over the last few years—

And Sonny had drifted away from him in a lot of ways, becoming less and less concerned with Jason’s life. When Carly had gone missing that summer, Jason’s entire life had become laser focused on getting her back. Elizabeth had been kidnapped the previous summer, and Sonny had offered little to no help at all.

It was frustrating to admit that Jason wasn’t sure exactly when their friendship had gone off the rails — maybe it was wrong to blame Sonny when Jason knew he’d stopped talking to Sonny in a lot of ways after that terrible December night when Carly had waltzed down the penthouse stairs, clad only in a badly buttoned dress shirt.

When Jason arrived at the office, however, Sonny was already complaining to Bernie and Johnny O’Brien, one of their guys in charge of security, about an argument he’d had with Carly.

When Jason appeared in the doorway, Sonny scowled and gestured at him, saying to Bernie and Johnny, “And look, here’s someone else who doesn’t seem to get it! That fucker has to die!”

Johnny glanced at Jason out of the corner of his eye, lifting his brows slightly as if to offer an apology.

“We’ve been over this,” Johnny said, patiently. “You don’t want to give the PCPD any reason to look at us while Bernie and Justus are still getting the paperwork in order. We had six months without a business manager and full-time attorney.”

“I’m tired of sitting around and waiting. You saw how the system worked against Elizabeth,” Sonny shot at Jason. “Taking you off her case, putting her under Ric’s control—”

“For less than a day,” Jason retorted. “But we got it back. And forget the heat the PCPD would put on us, I’m not convinced that going after Ric wouldn’t also put Trevor Lansing on us. We don’t know if he was involved in any of it—”

“Oh, I thought it wasn’t business,” Sonny drawled, raising his brows in a truly impressive display of sarcastic concern. “You told me it was personal—”

“Kidnapping Carly was,” Jason insisted. “If she’d been part of the plan, no way in hell she’s put in a panic room and kept there. But Ric came to town working with Faith Roscoe. Trevor called him to Crimson Point right at the beginning of all of this. Lansing might just need an excuse to give Zacchara to justify going after us. We don’t know that yet.”

He shook his head. “Right now, everything is quiet. No one is making any noises about Ric being free and alive. Business is moving along. Carly’s in her third trimester, and Elizabeth—”

Jason pressed his lips together. Was this even the time to tell Sonny that Elizabeth was pregnant? That she might end up in a high-risk pregnancy where stress needed to be avoided at all costs?

“I promised Elizabeth and Carly that I would do what they needed when it came to Ric,” Jason reminded Sonny. “I’m not breaking it.”

“Who the hell are you to promise my wife anything?” Sonny demanded.

Johnny and Bernie traded glances at each other that Sonny caught. He turned his attention back to them. “Oh, yeah, I get it. Jason’s the guy that found her so he gets to be in charge, right? Is that what you’re thinking?”

“I’m not thinking anything,” Johnny said quickly. “It’s not my job to think.”

“Damn right,” Sonny muttered. He looked at Jason. “Is that what this is? You want to be in charge? You don’t trust my judgement?”

How the hell had it gotten to this? Jason blinked, trying to understand exactly what Sonny’s problem was.

“When it comes to Ric, no,” he admitted. “You’re angry at yourself for not taking care of him in May. I’m angry at myself, too. We could have spared everyone a lot of grief. But you had your reasons then, and I agreed to let you deal with it. Because Ric was your brother. Your problem to fix.”

Jason shook his head. “But he didn’t just go after you. He went after Carly. Your wife. Twice. He went after your sister. But he nearly killed Elizabeth. Twice. He drugged her for months, Sonny, and then he assaulted her. All Elizabeth ever did was help us. She put her life on the line to bring Carly home. Because of me. Because of you. And because that’s who she is. The night Carly went missing—”

Sonny exhaled slowly closing her eyes. “She was barely able to stand on her feet, but she took our side. Refused to leave. Wanted to help.” He sank into the chair behind his desk. Behind Jason, Johnny and Bernie both left without another word.

“You think I don’t want Ric gone?” Jason asked, a bit more quietly. “I want him out of our lives, too. But that’s not going to make this over. Just having him killed isn’t going to end the nightmares for Carly or Elizabeth. They want their day in court. To face him. And then they want him to die in prison. That’s what they need. And after Elizabeth nearly died, after seeing the room Carly was held in, I have no issues letting them get what they need.”

Sonny didn’t say anything, so Jason continued. “Elizabeth found out yesterday that she’s pregnant.”

His partner’s head snapped up at that. “What? Now? It’s—” He shook his head. “It’s too soon, isn’t it?”

“It…wasn’t planned,” Jason said, not willing to go into the clusterfuck of ELQ and their faulty condoms. “With everything else that’s going on, after what happened with Brooke this summer, her sessions with Gail, the last thing I’m going to do is pressure her into doing something that makes my life easier. You can do whatever you want with Carly, but I’m not breaking my promise to Elizabeth. Not ever again.”

When Sonny had nothing else to say, Jason just left.

Manhattan: Courtney’s Apartment

Courtney stepped back to let her sister-in-law in, then hugged her nephew as Michael followed her, all bright smiles and happiness. She’d been surprised to hear from Carly—the first time since Courtney had moved from Port Charles to the city three weeks earlier but had agreed immediately to host Carly and Michael for a visit.

Sonny, Carly had informed her tersely, was not available.

After dinner with Michael, Courtney settled him in the guest room he would share with his mother before settling on the sofa with Carly in the living room. “So what brings you down to the city?”

Carly scowled. “I can’t visit my best friend? You moved. I missed you.”

Carly probably hadn’t thought much about her since Courtney had left the penthouse, but she let it slide. It wasn’t Carly’s fault, and one entered friendship with Carly realizing that she was relatively selfish. “Okay. Then tell me about the baby. How do you feel?”

“Like a parade float,” Carly muttered. She rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I needed to get away from Sonny. From my mother. From everyone. I feel like they’re all screaming I told you so and I am just…really not in the mood, you know?”

“Sonny still having issues?” Courtney asked quietly as she tucked one leg underneath her. “He was so angry after you came home. I mean, after the relief had passed. And I know he was pissed about what you and Liz wanted to do about Ric. Is that still an issue?”

“We don’t talk about it anymore,” Carly admitted. “He’s angry that I don’t seem to get how hard this was for him, and I guess—I guess I don’t get it. I don’t get how he thinks what he went through is so much more important than me. And if what happened to him—”

“The breakdown?” Courtney asked. “He hallucinated Lily, Carly. It was terrifying to see him like that. I honestly thought he’d be…”

“Committed?” Carly asked dryly. “Yeah, well…I used to think it was just…part of the marriage vows. For better or for worse. In sickness and health and all of that, but I guess…” She picked at the seam of the sofa. “I guess I took it for granted that the sickness part of that meant he would try to make himself better. Mama asked me why it was anyone else’s job but Sonny’s to give a damn about his mental health? Jason’s at the end of his rope—they’re arguing all the time.”

“Because Jason agrees with you,” Courtney said slowly, then sighed. “And because he probably promised Elizabeth he’d handle it her way.”

“Basically. And Sonny is just…so angry at all of us. Maybe I’m being selfish. If this bothers him so much—”

“Because Sonny’s a control freak,” Courtney said bluntly. “And that was clear this summer. Look, I made mistakes. And I—handled everything wrong. But Sonny fell apart. And that drives him insane. He couldn’t fix it. He’s not the one who brought you home. That was — that was Jason and Elizabeth. Your mother. Even Nikolas Cassadine who doesn’t even know you. All of them did more than Sonny. Demanding to deal with Ric, Carly? That’s Sonny trying to control everything again. And I’m sorry, but you’re not obligated to play into that.”

Carly bit her lip. “But—”

“I’m not denying that Sonny had a breakdown. That he was traumatized by the whole thing,” Courtney told her. “But you know what? It’s bullshit that he’s got you thinking you got to step back from something you need to make things better for him. When the hell is it your turn? You were kidnapped. Threatened with death. Locked in a room.” She shook her head. “Sonny should go see a therapist, figure out what’s wrong him, get on medicine, or whatever. But he needs to stop taking this out on you and Jason.”

Carly lifted her brows. “Where is this coming from?” she asked, shaking her head. “You and Sonny—”

“I don’t matter to Sonny,” Courtney told her. “Except as something he thinks he owns. I left Port Charles and you know what? He doesn’t call. He hasn’t bothered once. Bernie helped me sign the paperwork for this place, and my alimony from AJ is taking care of the bills for right now until I get a decent job. But my so-called brother only gave a damn about me when I was doing what he wanted.”

She took a deep breath. “Time and distance from Port Charles, even after three weeks, it’s put things into perspective. I didn’t like the person I was turning into there, Carly. Being around Sonny—having my life revolve around the rules necessary to be part of it—it was driving me out of my mind. I was going to marry a man who didn’t love me—who I knew didn’t love me—because it brought me closer to Sonny. I deserve better than that, you know? And so do you.”

She got up from the sofa and peered out the window. “You said Elizabeth agreed with you about wanting to testify, about wanting Ric to rot in prison.”

“Yes,” Carly said, her tone hesitant. She rubbed her belly absently. “So what?”

“Do you know if she had to talk Jason into it? Or did she explain herself and he said, yes. That’s it. You need this, so this is what we’ll do.” Courtney looked back at her sister-in-law. “Because he loves her. Because he loves you. He’s not just fighting with Sonny over a promise he made to Elizabeth, is he?”

“No,” Carly admitted quietly. “He promised me the same. And he told me that Elizabeth—that she said if I wanted Ric gone, it was up to me. She’d do whatever I need.” She shook her head. “Sanctimonious little martyr,” she muttered, but the words were without heat and almost an automatic defense. Carly didn’t bend easily.

“Everyone traumatized by this summer, Carly, is on your side. Jason and Elizabeth want what you need. Bobbie probably wants what you need. Everyone else who matters agrees with you. So why is it that you think you need to change for Sonny?”

Condo: Living Room

Elizabeth was frowning at a pot of sauce on the stove when Jason got home from work that night. One of the few recipes he’d taught her was a simple tomato sauce—because, as she’d said to him with a roll of her eyes—even an idiot could boil pasta.

“What’s wrong with the sauce?” he asked, after tossing his jacket over the back of the sofa. “You look like it’s burning.”

“I think I did something wrong,” she muttered. She held out a spoon for him to taste and his eyes nearly crossed at the amount of salt. “Yeah, see? I don’t know how that much salt got in there, but it’s there and it’s ruining—”

“Let’s just heat up the lasagna from the other night,” he suggested, kissing the top of her forehead. She turned off the burner, then switched the oven on for preheat. “Did you go to see Lila today?”

“Yeah, but it’s already starting to get too chilly to sit in the garden,” Elizabeth said, leaning against the counter. “At least for Lila. We’ll probably have to move inside in another week or so. Emily stopped by, too.” She bit her lip. “I told them about…” She looked away. “I told them,” she repeated.

“I told Sonny,” Jason admitted. He pulled the foil-wrapped lasagna from the refrigerator and set it on the counter, waiting for the oven to beep. “Not all of it. We were arguing about Ric again.”

“Still?” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “It feels like that should be settled. I mean—if Carly changes her mind, fine. But I don’t get—” She crossed her arms. “I mean, I guess I get why Sonny’s still mad, but what good does it do at this point?”

“Not much.” Jason glanced at her, then busied himself doing the few dishes left in the sink from breakfast. “What did Emily and Lila say?”

“I think when we talked about it yesterday,” Elizabeth said slowly, “part of you wanted to put an option on the table but you didn’t want to say it outright. When you said you’d support whatever decision I made, you meant…you meant I could have an abortion.”

The kitchen was quiet for a long moment as Jason thought carefully about his next words. He set the last plate in the dish rack, then dried his hands. “I—” He shook his head, turned back to face her. “Yeah. I guess I think it should be an option.”

“I think so, too,” Elizabeth said softly. “I was afraid to say it out loud. Because I know a baby is something we’ve both talked about wanting. At some point. And it feels like we got this surprise, and instead of being happy, we’ve both immediately—”

She shook her head and sat at the table. He joined her, sitting next to her. “We both immediately went to the risks. And I’m afraid that if we went through with the pregnancy, that’s what it would be. We wouldn’t be happy about the baby. We’d be scared all the time.”

He opened his mouth, then realized he didn’t really have anything to say to that. Because of course that was probably true. Hadn’t her health taken over everything since she’d left the hospital? The oxygen mask he still insisted on keeping ready on the side table despite not needing it for the last two weeks. The way he still took her pulse sometimes when she wasn’t paying attention.

Sometimes he woke with a start in the middle of the night and couldn’t get back to sleep until he was sure that her chest was rising and falling.

Keeping Elizabeth healthy had taken over almost all of his waking hours since she’d nearly died, and she was probably right—the next eight or nine months probably meant more of the same.

“And I have to admit, Jason—part of me is terrified that we’re right to worry. That…I could decide to take a risk and then maybe I get an embolism at five months or six months. And maybe I don’t get a miracle. Maybe this time that’s it.” Her voice broke. “And then you’re not just burying me, but the baby. And what if I get through labor, then have a clot? It happens then. Maybe the next clot will be an aneurysm in my brain.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. He’d once been so good at ignoring the what-ifs, preferring to focus on the here and now. You couldn’t control the future, couldn’t stop it, so why bother trying?

But every one of those scenarios had run through his mind since she’d told him the news and probably a thousand other possibilities.

“If you’re worried about what I’d think if you decided to have an abortion,” Jason said slowly, “I told you. I need you here. Alive. Healthy. Whatever we have to do is worth that to me. We could adopt. There are surrogates—”

She pressed her fingers to his lips to quiet him. “And once I admitted that part of my fear was if you’d leave me if I didn’t have this child, if maybe I decided I never wanted to risk—I realized how insane that was. We’ve been through too much for any of that.” She took his hands in hers. “I’m scared, Jason. Because I don’t want to die. I feel like I’ve finally figured out my life, and I’m exactly where I want to be, you know?”

“So, you’re not going—”

“I also don’t want to live my life in fear,” she continued, cutting him off with a shake of her head. “Right now, that’s all you and I have. The fear. We don’t know if there’s a way we can go forward and feel confident.” Tears slid down her cheeks. “I mean, part of me feels like I got a miracle when I lived through the cardiac arrest and everything Ric did to me. What if that’s it? What if that’s the only miracle I get?”

Jason tugged her off the chair and onto his lap so he could wrap his arms around her, holding her as the sobs silently shook her shoulders.

“I don’t think that’s how miracles work,” he murmured, his cheek pressed against hers. “Everything inside of me is screaming at you not to take this risk. That nothing is worth the chance I might lose you.”

She drew back slightly so that their noses were touching. She framed his face with her hands, delicately wiping away his tears with her thumbs. “I don’t want to live my life running away from everything that scares me. I ran away from you. Twice. I want to stop running, Jason.”

He nodded, understanding where she was going with this. “You’re saying we don’t have enough information to make this kind of decision.”

“Having a family is our dream, Jason. And yeah, you and me? That’s enough for me. Because I love you and I know that you love me. But we both want children. And the universe…I can’t believe the universe would be so cruel to give this to us when we weren’t expecting it. So…Monica called and told me that she’d arranged for an appointment with a doctor at the hospital later this week. She’s one of the best in the state. And we’ll…take it one step at a time.”

“Okay.” Jason nodded. “Okay.” Behind them, the oven beeped, and he sighed. “I’ll go put in dinner. We should both eat.”

She lifted herself off his lap and watched as he went back into the kitchen. “Jason, if we decide to keep the baby, promise me that we’ll try to be more excited than we are scared.”

“I—” He shook his head. “I don’t know if I can promise that.” Jason looked at her, feeling a bit helpless at her undaunted courage because he knew—even if she didn’t—that somewhere inside of her, she’d already made the choice. “But I will love you and the baby, and we’ll get through it together.”

Is it dark, where you are?
Can you count the stars where you are?
Do you feel like you are a thousand miles from home?
Are you lost, where you are?
Can you find your way when you’re so far?
Do you fear, where you are?
A thousand nights alone
– Longest Night, Howie Day

---

Monday, September 8, 2003

General Hospital: Monica’s Office

Elizabeth shifted in her chair and checked the clock on the wall. It had been at least ten minutes since Monica had gone to get her blood test results. Not that Elizabeth was all that nervous about her two-month checkup — the checkup that would, hopefully, go a long way towards reassuring Jason.

He’d gotten a lot better about her health in the last five weeks and she hadn’t needed the oxygen mask in two weeks, but she still sometimes caught him looking at her closely and hesitating before doing anything more strenuous than walking across the room.

Finally, almost fifteen minutes after Monica had left, Jason’s mother returned, a folder in her hand…and a carefully blank look on her face.

Elizabeth straightened in her chair, watching with trepidation as Monica sat in the empty chair next to her, not behind her desk. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Monica said. “There was…” She pursed her lips. “A result on the initial round of tests that came back that required further testing. The results of that second test just came in…” She looked at Elizabeth. “I had to run a pregnancy test.”

“Pregnancy…” Elizabeth trailed off with a shake of her head. “Well, I’m not pregnant. I mean, it’s too soon after everything that happened, and—” With a slight flush, she lifted her hands in confusion, letting them fall back into her lap. “Jason and I are careful. I mean, I can’t use the pill anymore, but we—Monica, we’re—” She bit her lip. “Did it come back positive?”

“It did. We can run another one if you’re really not convinced. When was your last period?”

“Honestly? Not since before the miscarriage.” Her heart plummeted into her stomach. “Oh, God. Monica. There’s no way I was pregnant before everything happened — I mean, I didn’t…I didn’t sleep with Ric again, but he was drugging me—”

Her stomach lurched as she turned away. Oh, God—

“No, no, of course not. We ran all of these tests at the last appointment and this is the first time this hormone level was elevated. I can assure you, Elizabeth, you were not pregnant when you came in for the overdose. I ran a full toxicology report at the time and pregnancy is just…it’s one of the basic things we test for in our female patients.” Monica exhaled in a huff. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you worry—it’s not Ric’s child. No chance of it.”

“Okay.” Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay. Well, then, at the most, I couldn’t be more than seven weeks along. Um…” She looked at Monica, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “You still look concerned. Worried.”

“This isn’t my specialty,” Monica admitted, “but I will admit to being a bit…apprehensive about what a pregnancy means for your health—at this point. Unfortunately, there’s not a terrible lot of information out there about the risks of embolisms in pregnant patients after already having suffered an occurrence. But—”

“Blood clots, specifically pulmonary embolisms, are a risk factor in pregnancy,” Elizabeth finished. She stared down at her hands. “What else?”

“You didn’t just suffer an embolism, Elizabeth. You were in cardiac arrest. You had a mild heart attack when the second clot burst. You’ve struggled to regain your stamina and energy because of how severe the crisis was.” Monica waited a moment. “If you had come to me, asking for a timetable, I would have recommended waiting at least year.”

“We were safe,” Elizabeth repeated, more to herself. “Jason—I mean, after Robin—and you know obsessed he’s been about my health. He never would have—”

“I think—” Monica bit her lip. “It hasn’t hit the news quite yet, and of course, it depends on your brand, but one of ELQ’s subsidiary companies will be issuing a recall on a batch of condoms. For this very reason, apparently. They were…less than effective.”

“Oh, God.” Elizabeth pressed her hands to her face. “Enduro.”

“Yes.”

Pregnant. Less than two months after nearly dying from blood clots and cardiac arrest…she looked at her doctor, at Jason’s mother. “What…happens next? What would you recommend? I mean, if I were just any other patient—”

“You mean if you weren’t carrying my grandchild?” Monica asked. When Elizabeth nodded, Monica waited another moment before answering. “This isn’t my area of expertise,” she reminded Elizabeth. “I’m going to make some calls and get a recommendation for the best OB/GYN who specializes in high-risk pregnancy, but make no mistake, Elizabeth—this is a high-risk pregnancy. You’re at an elevated risk for another blood clot already, particularly because yours was hormone induced.”

“And adding a condition that elevates the risk even further…I could have a blood clot tomorrow,” Elizabeth murmured.

“You could. I just…” Monica reached for Elizabeth’s hands. “But I think you have time to make a decision. For you and Jason to talk about what it means, to consult a doctor—”

“We talked about children just…just a few weeks ago. I wanted them. I do. But…” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Can you make those calls? I’ll…talk to Jason. And we’ll see where we are.”

Port Charles Municipal Building: Scott’s Office

Scott glanced up from his paperwork as Taggert entered his office, followed by Kelsey. He exhaled slowly and got to his feet. “Judging by the looks on your faces, the tests came in as scheduled.”

“All fourteen rape kits have been processed. A few of them came back negative, but…” Taggert looked at Kelsey before continuing. “We have results in ten of the cases. Seven of them…linked.”

“Seven.” Scott closed his eyes. “All seven under investigation for the park rapes? Isn’t it unusual for—”

“It is,” Kelsey admitted. “But the lab report…” She set the results on his desk. “Apparently the guy didn’t wear a condom in any case at all. Which…can be a signature on its own. He’s…reckless.”

“He thinks he can’t be caught,” Taggert muttered. “And he’s right. Because Elizabeth Webber’s dress came back positive for semen, and her case matches the other six. Guess who got excluded?”

“Fuck me.” Scott perused the report as his stomach continued to twist and turn. “They covered it up. They made her case go away. Why? Why would they cover for Baker?”

“I don’t think they did.” Kelsey took a seat. “You said you talked to the ADA on the Baker case, right?” she said to Taggert.  “To Dara Jensen, about the rape kit results?”

“I did. Why?”

“Remember what she said about the media circus around the trial? Baker was accused of blackmailing and holding Edward Quartermaine’s granddaughter hostage.” Kelsey arched a brow. “Did Edward Quartermaine know about the Webber rape case and the accusation against Baker?”

“I—I don’t know why he would have unless Emily had told him. You don’t think—”

“I think it’s possible Edward Quartermaine leaned on Floyd to make sure Baker went away. Floyd leaned on the commissioner. And, I guess, look at it from the commissioner’s standpoint—if he believes Elizabeth Webber, Tom Baker admitted he raped her. And he’s going to trial on slam dunk charges that will put him away for at least twenty-five years, if not more.”

Taggert exhaled slowly. “Meanwhile, we got a rape kit that may or may not come back positive — and if there’s no DNA, it’s her word against his. The rape case was weaker.” He hesitated. “And to be honest, we hadn’t really talked about the case at the department after Baker was arrested. The evidence was weak. Dara didn’t tell us outright she wouldn’t file rape charges, but I think there was already an atmosphere…Baker was going to jail. We didn’t need to spend the time or resources.”

The lieutenant looked away, cleared his throat. “But that doesn’t explain what happened to her case. The dress in the evidence box, the way her case was pushed off the open list—”

“Exactly.” Kelsey leaned forward. “And look, if that had been the case — if everyone involved had agreed not to prosecute the rape because of its overall weakness, that would have been fine. But that’s not what happened. Without testing the kit, there was no way of knowing the strength of the case. All we know for sure is that in November, you were told to make the case inactive. If you’d run that kit and it had come back negative for Baker, it might have brought Elizabeth Webber’s credibility into question.”

“Because if she’s lying about his confession, the defense could have made her look hysterical and unstable. She’s the one holding the gun…” Scott shook his head. “Doesn’t explain the falsified lab report—”

“You said Elizabeth nearly caused a mistrial with her outcry in the court room,” Kelsey said. “Maybe Edward Quartermaine got cold feet about hurrying the case along.”

“Or, maybe he found out for the first time that the charge existed,” Taggert offered. “And Mac and Floyd had to cover their tracks. I—” He shook his head. “I thought I got a real big win when Mac said he’d sent the kit out for testing. Even though he wanted me to shelve it, he’d said he’d send it over. He never intended to do that.”

“It doesn’t make any of it right,” Kelsey said. “And the fact that the commissioner put her case in the closed archives rather than cold storage—it meant that we didn’t make the link. Think about this — the seven cases we have—the first three are spread out.”

“Yeah.” Scott looked at his list of dates. “February 1998. April 1999. January 2000. And then nothing until February 2003.” He tapped his pencil. “Taggert, I know you’ve been holding off telling Elizabeth that the case is reopened, but I think with these results—”

“Yeah, I know. I should tell her today, but…” Taggert shook his head. “Let me leave it for last. I’ll officially reopen the 1999 and 2000 attacks, take those victim statements.”

“And what does the delay give you?” Kelsey asked. “I mean—”

“It doesn’t give me anything. It just gives Elizabeth Webber a few more days, maybe even a whole week before I have to rip open that wound again.” Taggert held out his hand and Kelsey gave him back his copy of the lab report. “And yeah, I know it’s special treatment and maybe I should start with her first because, chronologically, she is the first known—”

“I think, for once, it won’t kill us to give Elizabeth Webber a break,” Scott told Kelsey. “This is a lot to ask her take on, and she may not want to get involved. I mean, what do we tell her about what happened with her file? She thinks her evidence was tested.”

“I don’t know,” Kelsey admitted. “I mean, we don’t know anything for sure.”

“I’m not going to lie to her.” Taggert shook his head. “She’s had enough of that from this department. And if I didn’t want to be kicked off this case or fired, I’d be calling the papers.”

“We’re not leaking to the papers,” Scott said. “It’s bad enough the papers are digging into the other three victims and dragging Brooke’s case out every time Ned Ashton makes a speech. You want Elizabeth in the middle of another media circus? With Ric Lansing out on bail?”

“Fine. But I’m not letting Floyd or Mac get away with this forever, Baldwin. So figure out how you want to play this.”

Brownstone: Living Room

Bobbie braced Carly’s elbow as her heavily pregnant daughter lowered herself onto the sofa. “I would have come to you in the penthouse,” Bobbie told her as she sat next to her. “You don’t need to drag yourself out when you’re feeling so tired.”

“Does it show?” Carly bit out as she set her purse next to her and leaned back. “And I needed a break from the penthouse. Sonny is…”

“Driving you crazy?”

“I wish.” Carly sighed. “He’s barely talking to me since Elizabeth and I told Scott that we didn’t want a deal.”

“Is he that angry he’s going to have to wait a few more months for Ric to have an accident in jail?” Bobbie said, rolling her eyes. She crossed into the kitchen as Carly remained seated. “I get that he wants it all over—”

“He’s not mad about that, even though he’d prefer it already be over. He’s mad because I told him…I told him no accidents at all.”

Bobbie hesitated behind the counter where she was pulling out her tea kettle. She filled the kettle and placed it on the stove before rejoining her daughter in the living room. “No accidents ever?” she asked.

“I want Ric Lansing to rot away in a small cell for the rest of his life. I want to visit him there and make sure he knows who put him there.” Carly sat up straighter. “Death is too easy. Too quick. I want him to suffer. Is that so goddamn bad?”

“No,” Bobbie admitted. “And now that the image is my head, I have to admit, I like it. Elizabeth…felt the same way?”

“She didn’t talk to you about this?”

“Not really. I knew she didn’t want a deal either, but…”

“Yeah, it’s one of the few things we’ve ever agreed on,” Carly said, with a shrug. “And of course, Jason was on board with it. Whatever she needs, he gives it to her. But I get stuck with Sonny, who’s so goddamn selfish—”

She let her head fall back against the sofa. “I get Sonny’s life, Mama. I get it. And mostly, I don’t give a shit about it. But this happened to me. Not him. And it’s getting really old trying to balance worrying about Sonny’s mental health when I’m just trying to get through my own day.”

“Are you…” Bobbie pursed her lips. “Are you still having nightmares? I thought Kevin’s sessions—”

“I’m not sure the nightmares will ever go away,” Carly admitted. “But Kevin taught me how to avoid the panic attacks, to manage the stress. But I’m tired, Mama. You know when you told me you wanted Sonny to get help, and I told you not to worry?”

“Because you and Jason would handle it?”

“Well, I’m thinking about what you said back then. About how that’s not fair. And I thought—well I’m his wife. That’s the role I agreed to. It’s in the vows. And Jason is his best friend. That’s how this is supposed to work. You stand by each other until the bitter end. The thing is…” Carly sighed. “I think I’m starting to get to the bitter end part of it, and I have a feeling Jason isn’t far away. He wants his own life. To put Elizabeth and her needs first. And what kind of bitch would I have to be to demand he put me and my family first? He has his own.”

“Carly—”

“I’m just having a bad day, Mama. So I need…I need a break from Sonny, from that penthouse…because I’m starting to forget why I’m there in the first place.”

Port Charles Hotel: Renaissance Room

Alexis walked away from Elton Herbert as the flamboyant and verbose party planner prattled on about the menu for Ned’s fundraiser later that evening.

She might be Ned’s events coordinator (she still wasn’t sure how that had happened) but there was not enough money on God’s green Earth to make her listen to that man for another second.

“Do whatever you want,” she called over her shoulder as Jax, who had been appointed as Ned’s actual campaign manager, entered the room. “Thank God. Tell him to stop asking me about serving caviar or langoustine. I don’t even know what the second thing is.”

She pursed her lips, spying Jax’s pensive expression. “What’s wrong?”

Jax sighed, then steered her over to an empty table in the corner of the room. “I’m worried.”

“About what?” Alexis drew her glasses out of the purse she’d left on the table and reached for the sheaf of papers in his hands. “Are those the polls Ned commissioned? It looks like he’s neck and neck with Floyd, which is good considering—” She caught Jax’s eye. “It’s not good? Why?”

“Because…” Jax sighed, leaned against the wall of the room and watched as the workers on the far aside continued to assemble the stage. “Because in two months this campaign will be over.”

“Uh huh.” Alexis shook her head and removed her glasses. “I’m still not seeing the problem, Jasper. With two more months, Ned could easily overtake—” She tipped her head. “I thought we were in agreement on this. Floyd is a boil on the butt of humanity and Ned was the perfect choice to not only clean his clock but to take over.”

“And I still think that. I just worry…that we’re not doing the right thing by Ned,” Jax shook his head. “I don’t know if he’s really…grieved yet. He lost his daughter. He lost his fiancée last year—” he grimaced, obviously remember Ned’s fiancée had been her sister. “I’m sorry—”

“It’s been a very difficult year for all of us,” Alexis offered. “But this is how Ned gets through things. You know that. You only got out of bed after Brenda went over that cliff because your family lost its fortune and you had a goal.”

“Yeah, I had a goal to get back what my family had lost. To rebuild my future,” Jax reminded her. “Ned got into this for revenge. I think, even if he beats Floyd, he’s going to wake up and realize how empty that really is.”

“I don’t know. I got my revenge on Luis Alcazar,” Alexis said, pitching her voice slightly lower. “And that felt damn good then and still feels good now.” Even if she hadn’t entirely meant to shove him over the balcony, oh man, it had been sweet. Apparently, she’d inherited something from her ancestors.

Even if she’d immediately locked it right back up after pretending to have her mental breakdown and losing custody of Kristina. Nothing ever went well when she unleashed her inner Cassadine.

“Don’t remind me,” Jax muttered. “I’m just worried about him. About the day after the campaign. What if he loses?”

“Let’s just get to the end of the campaign,” Alexis suggested. “One day a time, isn’t that what we said we’d do?”

“Yes, but—”

“It’s healthy for him to focus on the campaign. To have a reason to get out of bed. I know you don’t disagree that keeping him busy is the best idea.” Alexis patted his shoulder. “This isn’t something we can fix, Jax. All we can do is follow his lead and be there when he falls down.”

Kelsey’s Apartment: Dining Room

Somehow, without Kelsey realizing it, her life had fallen into a routine. Working the serial rapist case full-time had allowed for a regular working schedule for Lucky, which meant they finished their day about the same time. Lucky had started to wait for her outside the Municipal Building, across the street from the department.

She’d driven them back to her place where they both compared notes on their day, on the cases, over dinner. Then they’d go to bed—together. And start over the next day.

They weren’t living together—it was way too soon for that but for right now, they were both eating, breathing, living with this case and somehow, being together made the horrors bearable.

The day the DNA matches came in, they didn’t talk about in the car. Lucky talked about his brother who was coming home in a few days while Kelsey related how much she was looking forward to her mother driving up for dinner again.

But once they got home, spread out their files along with their dinner from Kelly’s, the light banter had ceased. Lucky stared down at his case notes, brooding as Kelsey studied her court docket for the next day.

“You feel guilty,” Kelsey said after a long period of quiet. She pushed her spoon around the bowl of chili. “Because Taggert still doesn’t want to tell Elizabeth.”

“I guess.” Lucky shrugged. “I mean, I get his argument. I understood it back in July. Until we had physical evidence, what was the point of dragging her into this, but we have it now. And Elizabeth would at least sit down with us. She’d give us a statement.”

“Taggert still having issues getting the others to agree to a follow-up?”

“He’s trying to find Logan and Lopez now. They moved out of town, and Taggert’s having trouble finding family members to ask.” He reached for a notebook. “Watson, Norton, and Morris weren’t returning our calls two months ago. What makes anyone think they’ll change their mind now?”

“You don’t think Taggert could persuade them?”

“He could.” Lucky sighed. “I guess I just—I’m not in a hurry to bring that back for her. But waiting for the others to give their statements just delays our progress—”

“I think it’s more that Taggert hasn’t figured out how to tell Elizabeth her case is opened again without explaining why suddenly we have a DNA profile we didn’t have before. Unless he lies to her, she’ll know something happened.” Kelsey shrugged. “He’s taking her case personally. The way you are. And neither one of you wants to let her down. So he’s waiting until he has all the evidence before he has to come clean.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Lucky asked, eyebrows raised.

“I think…” Kelsey looked down at her case notes, at the collection of photographs she kept just inside the top folder—a photo of every single victim prior to their attack. She kept them there to remind herself that they came first, and that everything they did was for them. “I think that after the PCPD screwed up their cases in the first place, the least we can do is avoid further harm. We don’t have a suspect, Lucky. We don’t have a lead. Do you want to tell Elizabeth that we’re reopening her case with nothing more than what we could have had five years ago?”

“I guess. I just don’t want her to fall through the cracks again.”

Port Charles Mall: AMC Movie Theater

It was the first time they’d attempted to have another movie night since Brooke’s rape two months earlier. They’d gone to the mall in the middle of the day, deciding that it would be different enough to keep their minds off that tragedy.

Only Lucas hadn’t really taken into account just how much had changed since that sweltering July night. Maxie had brought Kyle again, but Lucas wasn’t paying that much attention to him. Not since Maxie and Georgie had both suggested he bring Felix.

Lulu had also joined them, sitting with Dillon and looking cozy, which gave Georgie an excuse to glare at the blond who, up until two weeks ago, been one of their closest friends. Lucas didn’t know if his cousin was dating Dillon or not, but Lu liked to cause drama. So she’d hung over him maybe a bit more than she might have otherwise, sharing his popcorn and laughing at any joke, no matter how feeble.

“How long before she goes for the hair?” Felix murmured in his ear as the movie lights dimmed and Georgie got in one more shot about how hard Mac was working that day, which only made Dillon tense more. His cousin really was an idiot, Lucas thought with a grimace.

“Oh, let’s hope we at least get through the movie. I’m not in the mood to get kicked out of another one.”

They managed to get all the way through Maxie’s pick, Intolerable Cruelty, but even she was wrinkling her nose when they filed out of the theater and into the mall at large. “Ugh, that should have been better. It’s a romantic comedy. Why do I not feel flirty and happy?”

“Maybe it’s the company,” Georgie said. “Can we go now?”

Maxie huffed at her younger sister, then turned her back to look at the rest of them. “Wanna go to Kelly’s or the food court?”

“I’m going home,” Georgie announced. “I have work to do. Some of us want to graduate college.” A flick of glance in Lulu’s direction made it clear who she meant.

“Oh, get off it, Jones. We only started classes a week ago,” Lulu said. She rolled her eyes. “You need to get a grip.”

“You need to—”

Lucas stepped in front Georgie as she stepped forward while Kyle edged preemptively in front of Lulu. “Let’s just calm down.”

“Oh, relax,” Georgie said, with a roll of her eyes. “No one is gonna stalk off in a sulk—” she pressed her lips closed as the group stilled and Dillon’s already irritated expression grew more furious. “Whatever. I’m going home.”

She stormed off towards one of the mall entrances, leaving the rest of them to stare after her. “Ironically,” Kyle offered, “she’s storming—”

“We all caught it,” Maxie said, pressing her lips over her boyfriend’s mouth. “Don’t mansplain it.”

“Mansplain—”

“Anyway,” Lulu said, with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Can we go to back to the part where we get lunch? I’m starving.”

They opted for the food court, then went off in different directions to get their food. Maxie and Lulu headed for Salad Works while Felix and Lucas decided to get Chinese food.

Kyle followed Dillon to the burger stand, and as they waited their turn, he cleared his throat. “Listen, I’m sorry about Georgie.”

“Why are you sorry?” Dillon muttered. “We broke up two months ago. And Lulu is our friend. She’s been Georgie’s friend longer than I’ve known either of them.”

“Who didn’t mind playing up the new girlfriend role,” Kyle offered. “No, I mean, it just…it sucks that she’s taking it this way. I mean, Maxie is messed up about Mac, too. All the crap that’s been in the press. She’s…” he hesitated. “She’s cried a few times about it. Says Mac’s a great guy, but she doesn’t understand why he didn’t tell them. So she could have warned Brooke, too.”

“She gets it then.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she likes it.” Kyle jerked a shoulder as they moved up in the line. “And you know it’s been a lot worse with your brother running for mayor. It’s on the news, it’s in the papers. And Georgie’s…she’s always been a…” he trailed off.

Dillon eyed Maxie’s boyfriend, wondering when he’d stopped being annoyed by him. Maybe it had been Kyle’s steadiness in the park that terrible night or later, after Lucas had introduced them to Felix, Kyle had been the first to suggest Felix come to the next group thing.

“Maxie’s made a lot of mistakes in her life,” Dillon said after a moment. “Gotten into trouble. Done dumb things. It’s easier for her to see that other people aren’t perfect.”

“But the thing this—with Mac in the papers all the time, it just means Brooke’s still in the papers. And I know you guys knew that would happen when Ned decided to run, but still—I’m sorry, man, but every time I read another account about how she left us while we were arguing, I get angry at myself all over again. I don’t know what the hell Lucas and I were thinking. Or why it seemed so important.”

“Maxie and I were bickering, too. We were all ignoring Brooke.” Dillon stepped up to the counter and put in his food order. When he and Kyle had moved over to the pick up window, he took a deep breath. “Lucky Spencer told me that it might take a long time to forgive myself. That even though I know, logically, it wasn’t our fault…”

“It still feels like it is,” Kyle finished. “Yeah. Well, I know all about not being able forgive yourself for the dumb stuff you actually do. What happened with Maxie—”

“Is not something anybody but Maxie needs to forgive you for,” Dillon interrupted. He looked back at the table where Maxie and Lulu had returned to. “Can you get Maxie to call Georgie in a few more minutes? Make sure she got home okay?”

“Yeah, but I bet that’s why she’s pulling out her cell phone now.” They picked up their food and headed back to the table.

Condo: Living Room

Elizabeth told herself to put it away for a few hours, to stop thinking about Monica’s announcement, and the implications of it until she could talk to Jason after he got done work.

She had to stop herself several times from going straight to the warehouse and dumping this on him, but truth be told…

She didn’t know what Jason would do when she told him she was pregnant. Because as much as she wanted to be happy—she was terrified. She’d gone to the library and checked out a bunch of pregnancy books, pouring over the side effects and all the possibilities. She’d tried a few Internet searches while there—she still didn’t have a computer of her own—but everything seemed to tell her she was dying.

Instead of calming her down, the fact that pulmonary embolisms were listed as a side effect in every single pregnancy book only worried her more. Did that mean they happened a lot? And apparently, they were more common after birth, which meant her baby might live but Elizabeth would die.

And was that a risk she wanted to take? Was it a risk Jason would be on board for?

She thought about talking to Bobbie or Emily, even calling Nikolas, but she managed to keep the phone on the hook. Jason deserved to get this news first. Even if she didn’t know exactly what to tell him or what he might say.

Finally, around six, Jason walked through the door. He offered a smile as he pulled off his jacket and hung it in the closet next to her door. “Hey.” He joined her in the kitchen where she was perusing the freezer and their selection of frozen pizzas. He kissed her, his hand cupping her jaw. “What’d you do today?”

“Um…” Elizabeth closed the freezer door. “I had my appointment with Monica.”

“Right, the two-month checkup. You said something about it this morning.” Jason followed her out of the kitchen, his brow furrowing. “How did it go?”

“Um, good. I think.” She turned to Jason. “Monica…had to run a secondary test, though. To check out one of my results—” God, why was she stalling?

“Is everything okay?” Jason asked, his voice sharpening. “Elizabeth—”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just…” She sat on the sofa, to stop herself from pacing. “I guess it’s just…I don’t know. I’m pregnant.”

“Preg—” Jason closed his mouth and sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of her. “How—what—”

“Turns out the condoms we use are from ELQ, and Monica said they’re going to recall them for…you know, not actually doing their job—” Elizabeth twisted her fingers together. “It’s yours—”

“Of course it’s mine,” Jason said with an irritated frown. “Why—” He exhaled slowly. “Right. Because you were drugged and not sure—but they would have known in the hospital in July.” He exhaled slowly. “Okay. What…what does that mean? I remember from Carly’s pregnancy that one of the possible side effects—”

“Long story short is that I’m already at risk for another PE. Pregnancy makes that risk higher, but Monica said she didn’t know exactly how high. And she said there was…other issues. My recovery was long and I had heart issues…” Elizabeth shook her head. “She didn’t say it, but I think she was a lot more concerned than she let on.”

“Yeah.” Jason took a deep breath. “What…does she think—” he swallowed hard. “I mean, what do you think—” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That makes two of us. Monica said we should make an appointment with an OB/GYN who specializes in high-risk pregnancies.” Elizabeth watched as he pushed himself off the coffee table and started to pace. “She said, um, she—”

“High-risk pregnancy,” Jason repeated. He dragged his hands through his hair before letting his hands, still laced together, rest at the back of his neck. “Elizabeth—”

“She didn’t say it was too soon after what happened,” Elizabeth offered as she got to her feet. “But she also said if we’d wanted to plan it, she’d have recommended a year. Not…two months.” Her eyes burned. “You’re mad.”

“Mad—” Jason’s hands fell at his side as he crossed back to her and drew her into his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m not—I’m not doing this right. I’m not mad. Why would I be mad? We didn’t plan this. We were careful.” He edged away from her slightly, to frame her face with his hands. “Listen. I’m not mad,” he repeated. “I’m…worried.”

“Me, too.” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “We talked about this. We both agreed we wanted children.”

“Yeah, but—” Jason closed his mouth. “Whatever you decide, Elizabeth. I’ll support you.”

“But what do you want?” she asked, covering his hands with her own. “Jason—”

“I want you,” he told her. “And I want you to be happy. At the end of the day…” he swallowed hard. “That’s all that matters.”

“But…” She bit her lip. “I’ll guess we’ll wait for Monica to recommend an OB and see what they say, right?”

“Right.”

She wanted desperately to ask him if he was even a little bit happy about having a baby with her, but she was afraid of what he’d say. Whatever she decided, Jason had told her. She hadn’t even realized a decision was on the table. Did Jason want her to get an abortion?

Did she want an abortion?

But she couldn’t ask him that. He would never tell her what he thought—after all—he’d support whatever decision she made.

But supporting a decision and living with it were two different things.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and tried to smile. “I’m not in the mood to make dinner. How about we order some Chinese?”

‘Cause we break
And we burn
And we turn it inside out
To take it back
To the start
And through the rise and falling apart
We discover who we are
– Who We Are, Lifehouse

---

Saturday, July 26, 2003

 Port Charles Municipal Building: Scott’s Office

Scott scowled down at the report from the special master who had emailed his preliminary decision regarding the medical records Ric Lansing had subpoenaed. He’d completed reviewing Elizabeth’s files, and—

He looked up as Kelsey, dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt, knocked on his open desk door. “What are you doing here? You’re young. Go have a life. Go call Lucky Spencer.”

His ADA smirked at him. “I was wondering when you’d bring that up. Did his aunt tell you?”

“She said you came to dinner.” And Bobbie had been very effusive in her praise of Kelsey dating her nephew, suggesting that Lucky hadn’t been this happy in a few years. “She liked you.”

“I liked her. As for why I’m here today—I had a meeting with Taggert to catch me up on the park rapist.” Kelsey tilted her head. “Why are you here? Don’t you have Serena this week?”

“Next week,” Scott said. “And she’s too old to be hanging out with her dad during the day. I got the special master’s report back last night—would you believe this asshole thinks all of Elizabeth’s medical records should be open to the defense?”

“Transparency,” Kelsey offered with a shrug. “How many cases do you see get nailed because a prosecutor held something back? He’s probably just erring on the side of caution. And so what? If Elizabeth Webber was traumatized—”

“It’s just crap,” Scott muttered. “Sure, she got her protection order, but she also gets to know her psycho ex has access to her therapy sessions and just based on Gail’s notes, they’re going deep and working through a lot that’s not relevant. Even if he can’t bring it up at trial—”

“He gets to know it. Well, maybe that will help her make up her mind about going to trial.” Kelsey took a seat at Scott’s conference table. “Listen, not that I want to give you any more bad news—”

“Oh, hell.” Scott shoved the special master’s report aside. “What now?”

“You remember when you said something was off in the way Mac was counting open cases? We had nine in cold storage, four open, but Mac said there was fourteen.”

Scott pursed her lips. “He wasn’t wrong, was he? Was there another case?”

“Yeah, but it’s…not good news.” Kelsey took out her notepad. “Elizabeth Webber.”

“Oh, man. Oh, no. Don’t tell me the PCPD screwed up her rape case. This is not something I need in my life. This is not something that she needs either.” Scott buried his face in his hands and moaned. “Give it to me, Kelse. All the bad news.”

“Well, according to her file, Elizabeth was attacked in the park on February 14, 1998. She was sixteen, which meant the statute of limitations didn’t start until she turned eighteen in 1999. She was raped at the same fountain as Brooke, but her injuries were much less severe, and a friend took her home. She didn’t report right away—even took a shower. But someone convinced her to do a rape kit at Mercy Hospital where pictures were taken, and she turned over the dress she’d been wearing that night.”

“Okay. So…?”

“She finally made a statement to the police a few weeks later, sometime in March. Alejandro Garcia and Dara Jenson took the statement, but there wasn’t anywhere to go. Couldn’t send the dress for testing with no suspect, and according to Garcia’s notes, she didn’t remember a lot of details. Some minor things came back to her over the next few months — he’d smelled like soap…and…” Kelsey waited for Scott to look at him. “He only spoke three words to her.”

“Oh, hell. ‘Not a word.’ The same thing Brooke Ashton said.”

“Yeah. Garcia left the PCPD, but Taggert took over. He did some work, but nowhere to go. Until Emily Quartermaine and Elizabeth get held hostage by Tom Baker. Apparently, Elizabeth said Tom Baker admitted to raping to her while they were alone, but he later denied it. He went to trial on the charges in the blackmailing and kidnapping case, but Elizabeth had an outcry—”

“I remember all of this, but what happened to the rape kit—” Scott leaned forward. “Once Baker was a suspect, they must have sent it over—”

“That’s the part where Taggert is getting a little squirrely. Because that’s what our records show. Around Christmas of 1998, Dara Jenson marked into the DA’s file that a rape kit was returned from the lab with no profile or anything else. The same report exists in the PCPD’s file…but…”

“Kelsey—”

“Taggert never saw the report. And he said he was told in November that the kit had come back negative and that the case needed to be made inactive. He fought it, according to him, but eventually agreed. He said he walked the case to cold storage and listed it as an open, but inactive investigation.”  Kelsey rubbed the back of her neck. “Tom Baker pleaded to avoid a mistrial on the rape outcry and a retrial. He’s in prison now, but up for parole in December.”

“Wait…” Scott held up his hands. “Taggert was told in November the kit was sent back negative, but the report we have is from December?” He frowned. “After Elizabeth went public, accusing Baker?”

“Yeah, he noticed that, too. He said he was told a report would be sent over and Mac would take care of the filing. Taggert said he didn’t send the rookies down to get that case, specifically, but Lucky Spencer—”

“Knows Elizabeth. He was the friend who brought her home, right? I remember they were dating when he got…” Scott sighed. “So, Mac faked a report? Why?”

“He also officially listed her case as solved and the box ended up in closed archives. Spencer noticed it when they pulled the other nine—hers was missing from cold storage.”

“I—” Scott stared at her. “That doesn’t make any damn sense. Her case had a suspect, but he wasn’t convicted—”

“Yeah, Lucky pulled it out of the archives himself. He and the rookies went down there a few days ago to look for similar cases. And Lucky knew the details of her case, so he was looking for her case. When he gave Mac the list of cases to reopen, Mac only sent the first two. He didn’t include Elizabeth’s.”

He hesitated. “He didn’t include it—”

“Taggert told me Mac gave him some sort of excuse about how Elizabeth’s case didn’t have physical evidence and, because of Baker, might have reasonable doubt. But that doesn’t explain why the lab says they have no record her kit was ever sent to them and the dress itself doesn’t have any notation it was sent anywhere.”  Kelsey shook her head. “Taggert doesn’t want to call it a cover-up, but either it’s a massive screw up—”

“Or someone wanted her case to disappear.” Scott let his head fall to the surface of the table with a loud thud. “Of all the cases in all the world, Floyd and Mac had to fuck up Elizabeth Webber’s. A young woman we narrowly avoided getting killed this summer. Fan-fucking-tastic. I quit.”

“He sent her kit over with the other nine to the lab.” Kelsey waited to continue speaking until Scott had gathered himself. “I also filed a court order to get Baker’s DNA tested. Elizabeth’s profile matches the other rapes, so I want to exclude him. But I don’t know what to do with all the rest of it. Baker was in jail for the rest of the attacks.”

“Let’s…” Scott took a deep breath. “Okay. When can we expect the DNA on all seven cases to come back?”

“I put a rush order on all of them, but I moved Webber to the top of the list. Maybe the first week of September.”

“Okay,” he repeated. “Tell Taggert to keep investigating, but let’s keep a lid on the case. If her case doesn’t have DNA, we can’t do anything with it anyway. And if she’s believed the right guy is in jail and has been all along, I am in no hurry to bring that trauma up. Not after what she’s been through.”

Not after the horrifying notes Gail had made about Ric Lansing drugging her to have sex. The last thing Elizabeth Webber needed to think was her first rapist was on the loose, too. Motherfucker.

“Scott-”

“I want to have all my ducks in a row before I accuse the commissioner and Floyd—because he’s damn well involved—of covering up the rape of a teenaged girl.” He swallowed hard. “Because that’s not the Mac Scorpio I’ve known for a decade. He has stepdaughters he’s raised practically since birth. He adores them. I can see holding off on a public warning, but actively covering up for another rapist—there has to be a reason.”

“Maybe,” Kelsey said. She sighed. “Lucky and I decided we’d bring this to you because we’ve only been here five minutes, and I think Taggert will probably go along with it but promise me…promise me we’re not going to let this slide. This is…this is sickening. This case, from the start, has been screwed up, but to know it goes so far back—” She shook her head. “I can’t deal with it.”

“I don’t care if I have to broadcast the news myself. If I can prove the PCPD and the mayor’s office covered up a rapist who was then allowed to continue operating, leading to six more rapes and the death of a young girl—I’ll burn this city to the ground.”

Monday, July 28, 2003

 General Hospital: Gail Baldwin’s Office

Elizabeth sat on Gail’s sofa with a smile on her face. “You’ll be happy to hear that I just had my check up with Monica and she said everything looks great.”

“Really?” Gail asked as she set her notebook in her lap. “Your scans are still good?”

“Not a clot in sight. I’ll still have to be careful about exertion because I still get winded easily, but she said that should really start to subside as long as I stick to the physical therapy regimen.” She smirked and rolled her eyes. “And once Jason gets his hand on it, there’s no chance I’ll slack off.”

“He’s still taking your health more seriously than you I see,” Gail said, and Elizabeth winced at the admonition in her therapist’s voice.

“We haven’t argued about it since last week, but yes, Jason is a little more…” She hesitated. “Obsessed with it than I am. He’s been better, though and we’ve been…” Her cheeks flushed. “We went out of town Saturday night. Just overnight to a place he knows in the Adirondacks, not that far away. But we’re…we’re okay in that area, too. As long as he knows where the oxygen mask is.”

“Sounds romantic,” Gail quipped, and Elizabeth managed a short laugh. “That doesn’t bother you?”

“You mean, do I love the fact that the two or three times we’ve been intimate since last week, he stops everything to make sure the mask is within reach if I need it—” She grimaced. “It would, except I needed it on Saturday night, and it was right there. So, no panic attack. No hyperventilating. No embarrassing check up with my boyfriend’s mother in the middle of the night.” She shrugged. “Seems like an even trade. I get Jason, and he gets to make sure I’m alive.”

“I have to say…considering your hearing on Friday, you seem remarkably upbeat. You received my message about the special master?” Gail asked. “I’m so very sorry—”

“You have a court order, Gail. And, no, I’m not surprised Ric is trying anything he can to mess with my credibility. But what is he going to learn from those notes? That I had a damaged view of myself last year? That I thought so little of myself that Ric seemed like the best option?”

Elizabeth sighed, some of her cheer fading. “How does that change the medical reports or Carly’s testimony? I hate that he’s going to have an open window into my relationship with Jason, but you know? It’s more important that I get this right, with Jason, I mean. To understand why I did the things I did last year—to be able to think clearly and make good choices.”

She crossed her legs at the ankle. “I had a run-in with Courtney last week—we talked about that, remember?”

“Yes.”

“And…I remember trying to explain to Jason how knowing he’d gone to the Quartermaines and the police when I was kidnapped—how that would have helped me understand him more last summer. He’s so contained, Gail. I mean, he’s better than he was, but he still keeps so much locked away. And all I could see was him leaving me. Every time he had the chance, he left me to go to someone else…and…”

Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Somewhere along the way…I decided it was difficult to love me, and that most of the time, people didn’t think I was worth the effort. That’s why…they left. Or forgot me. Or moved on. I thought…there’s something inside of me that makes it impossible for someone to promise forever and mean it.”

“Do you still think it?” Gail asked.

“I don’t know.” Elizabeth chewed her bottom lip. “I know I felt that way when I had the miscarriage. I think that’s what made losing the baby so much worse. I thought…I thought I would be a good mother. That I would love my child and give them the unconditional love I never had. And you know, it’s horrible to think this way…but with my baby, I wouldn’t be alone anymore. That I would just have someone who would love me just for…just for what I was.” She met Gail’s eyes. “That’s too much pressure for a baby, I guess.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t make it wrong.”

Elizabeth shrugged. “I just…I made so many choices out of fear of being alone, but I guess I never thought about why I didn’t want to be alone. Why was I so desperate for Lucky to love me? For Jason to put me first? For Ric to give up his vendetta against Sonny? Why would I have…ignored all my instincts and stay when my feelings weren’t there. I agreed to marry Lucky and Ric, and I didn’t really love either of them.” She shrugged. “And you know…I did it because they were going to stay. And God, I guess…that was…I guess I was measuring love by whether someone stuck.”

Elizabeth looked out the window. “I should have found another way to measure it, I guess. It should be more than someone who doesn’t go away.”

“What should it be?”

“It should be…” She hesitated. “Someone who comes back. Who…doesn’t know what you’re thinking, but I guess, but can understand why you think it. Someone who…” she managed a half smile. “Who can cook but eats out because you can’t. Or will let you struggle with something he could do in five minutes because you’re trying to make a point and he respects you. Who watches movies even though he hates it because he knows you like cuddling on the sofa. Who compromises by making sure there’s an oxygen mask because he gets how important it is for you to feel normal and in love when he’d rather wrap you in cotton and keep the world away.”

Another tear slid down her cheek. “Someone who’s honest even when it hurts. Who doesn’t stay because he has nowhere else to go but because there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.” She looked at Gail. “It’s not hard to love me, is it? Jason’s shown me for years what it was supposed to be. I just didn’t know what I was looking at.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Mac paced his office, checked his watch, and swore when Floyd arrived, ten minutes later than their scheduled meeting time. “You know, you could return a few phone calls—”

“What’s so important that you’ve been badgering my secretary for the last week?” the mayor demanded, folding his arms across his chest. “I thought we agreed that I should make fewer visits—”

“Taggert sent officers down to cold storage to look at open cases, looking for a link to this guy.” Mac dragged both hands through his curly hair. “And he sent Spencer who damn well knew that the Webber case was supposed to be there.”

“So, it’s a mistake.” Floyd shrugged. “Her case was considered unofficially solved. Taggert knows that—”

“Dara Jensen called me this morning to ask why Scott Baldwin is asking her about the Webber case and if it was routine for her to check in lab reports a month after they were received.”

Floyd grimaced. “I knew we should have back dated that report to November.” He leaned against the table. “So?”

“So, Taggert sent the rape kit over for testing because he says it was never processed in the first place. I played it off like it was a mistake, but…” Mac shook his head. “You’re going to blame this all on me?”

“Should it come out?” Floyd lifted his brows. “Of course. That’s the deal. Now if it comes back at me, I can throw Edward Quartermaine under the bus. He’s committed so many atrocities against his own family, I highly doubt they’d think was beneath him. You’re worried about this too much. There are only three days left to file paperwork to run against me. By the end of the week, I’ll be officially running unopposed.”

“And how does that help me?” Mac demanded. “Look, maybe I should just come clean. I should resign.” He took a deep breath.  “That’s the right thing to do. I wanted to do it after Brooke, but maybe I’ve just been on borrowed time.”

“You told me Baker was the guy,” Floyd hissed, stabbing a finger at him. “You told me that he confessed. That you believed the Webber girl when she said he confessed. Do you think for one minute either one of us would have falsified that report and closed her case if we’d thought he was still out there?”

“I know I wouldn’t have,” Mac said, with a lift of his chin. “But this guy—the cases are too similar—”

“What purpose does it serve for you to come clean and resign?” With a firm shake of his head, Floyd rejected that premise. “Listen to me, you feel guilty, fine. You think the guy got away, fine. Make it right. Find the guy.”

Mac scowled but the mayor just left. Even if he found the guy, even if they were able to put him away for what he’d done to these women, if it was true that Mac had made Elizabeth’s case go away and left the real rapist out on the streets…

There was no making it right. He’d be handing in his badge one way or another. As soon as this case was closed.

This city deserved a better commissioner, and he hoped like hell a better man than Floyd ran for mayor.

Quartermaine Estate: Poolside

 Dillon scowled down at the computer and deleted the entire chunk of text he’d just typed. Nothing he’d worked on in the last week had been worth keeping, and just like every other screenplay he’d tried to create, this one would go in the trash.

He wanted to get away from everything, had told Reginald that, barring an emergency, no one needed to know where he was.

But better men than Reginald had fallen under the spell of a pretty girl, so Dillon was unsurprised when Georgie turned the corner around a hedge and offered him a sheepish wave. They hadn’t spoken since Brooke’s memorial the week before, and Dillon was okay with that. More okay than maybe he would have been considering they’d been dating for a few months.

But maybe she was here to ask for forgiveness, to apologize for defending her stepfather only days after Brooke had taken her own life. And Dillon could understand if Georgie had lashed out in loyalty. Her fierce devotion to people was one of his favorite things.

“Hey,” she said, taking a seat in the lounge chair across from him. “I always forget this is back here.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of the appeal. I’m the only one who uses it. Emily’s usually too busy.” Brooke had used it a few times, but he left that unspoken.

“When did you guys get back from New York?” Georgie asked.

“I drove back up with Alan on Saturday. Ned and Grandfather stayed until today to go over some business stuff, I think.” Dillon eyed her. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I just…I felt so awful about how we left things last week,” Georgie said. She sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that about Brooke. And of course, you blame everyone. I blame myself, too. We should have been nicer to her. Done more for her after, I don’t know. But…”

And she’d been doing so well. “Georgie, please don’t tell me you came over to plead your stepfather’s case again—”

“I’m not, not really. I just—” She shook her head. “I just thought with some time to calm down, you’d see that blaming someone and them actually being responsible are different. I know Mac didn’t do everything right—”

“He didn’t do anything right—” he bit off the rest of protest and shook his head violently. He closed his laptop, set it on the table next to him before getting to his feet. “I can’t believe you’re doing this again. Georgie, Brooke is dead.”

“And Mac isn’t—”

“I don’t know if she meant to take all those pills or if it was an accident, but either way, she had those pills because some asshole raped her and beat her within an inch of her life. He violated her, and your stepfather—he knew the park was being targeted. He took the time to warn his own kids but said fuck it to everyone else.” Dillon clenched his fists at his side. “So, if you don’t understand why the hell I think Mac should be fired—at the very least—then I don’t think we have anything else to say to each other.”

“Fine!” Georgie threw up her hands and whirled around to find Ned standing just inside the fence that surrounded the pool. “Um—”

“Don’t bother with condolences,” Ned said coolly, “or allow me to interrupt your storming out.”

Georgie’s face was bright red as she rushed past by Ned and fled.

“I’m sorry,” Dillon said, sinking back onto the pool lounger. “You don’t need to be hearing that shit.”

“She’s young,” Ned said after a moment. He sat on the lounger Georgie had vacated. “And she loves Mac. She’ll come around.”

“Yeah, but I think the part where we date is done now.” Dillon grimaced. “I didn’t realize you and Grandfather were back.”

“Just a little while ago. We, ah, stayed in the city for a meeting.” Ned hesitated. “We were hiring a campaign manager.”

“Oh, yeah, you found someone to run against the dick?” Dillon asked as he slid his laptop into his bag. “Who?”

“Me,” Ned admitted. “We filed notice on the way home. It’s surprisingly easy to get listed on the ballot run as an independent.”

“You?” Dillon repeated. “I didn’t see that coming—but I guess that’s good.” He hesitated. “But it means the press will be talking about Brooke all the time—”

“Which means they can’t forget about her case,” Ned said. “But yeah, it’ll be hard. I talked to Lois. She’s okay with it.” He studied his younger brother. “What do you think?”

“I think anyone is better than Floyd, even a Quartermaine,” Dillon said, only half-joking. He was relieved, and more than a little pleased, to see Ned laugh.

Maybe they’d be okay after all.

Condo: Bedroom

Elizabeth was already sitting up in bed, sketching, when she heard the front door open. Jason hadn’t promised to come by that night—only said he’d try to but there was a lot of work at the warehouse. But he was here.

When he appeared in the doorway, she smiled at him. “Hey. You look beat.”

“Yeah, it was a long day.”

She watched as he stripped down to his briefs and tossed his jeans and t-shirt into a duffel bag he kept in the corner of the room. “I cleared out part of the dresser.”

Jason turned to look at her. “What?”

Her cheeks were hot as she continued. “If you…wanted to keep clothes here. I could…um…wash them when I do mine.” Elizabeth bit her lip as he continued to stare at her. “I mean, it seems kind of crazy for you to keep going back and forth. You could just…keep them here.”

He sat on her side of the bed and she crossed her legs, moving into a sitting position to give him room. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah, I mean…I know we haven’t really talked about it before…” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I got my all-clear from Monica, so we’re fine on that front, but I also…I had kind of a breakthrough with Gail today. Something she said we’ve been working towards for the last few weeks, and it’s just…encouraged me to make sure I’m taking charge. Creating the life I want.”

Jason hesitated. “Okay—”

“When we talked about last summer, I said I had this thing about staying, but I didn’t want to get into it. The thing is…I needed to get into it. I needed to understand why I doubted you last year. Why I doubted myself. And why I keep making decisions out of fear.”

“You’ve been through a lot—”

“I have, but it’s not why.” She took his hand in hers, tracing the lines on his skin, the rough calluses on his fingers. “People tend to have a hard time loving me.” When he scowled, she added, “And I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about my parents. My sister. My brother. My grandmother. Even Lucky at first. And they all…left me. So somewhere along the line…I decided it was me. That I should work harder to make people stay. To make them love me.”

Jason exhaled slowly. “Okay.”

“Knowing that doesn’t really fix anything, but it does…I can step outside of myself and see it. I look at you…and even after everything we’ve been through…sometimes I think there’s no reason you’ll stay. No reason to believe I can make you happy.” She took a deep breath. “But I don’t feel that way all the time. Most of the time, I can shut the voices up. It’s just…it’s hard for me to trust that I can do this. That we can make this work.”

“Elizabeth…”

“But the only way for me to get over it is to just…” Elizabeth shrugged. “Is to just do it. I’ve been scared to ask you about what’s next. What you want from me. What you want from us. And I keep hoping you’ll do it first, but I think you haven’t brought it up because maybe you’re just as scared as I am.”

“For a long time,” Jason began, looking down at their intertwined hands. “I didn’t think about the future. I didn’t really know what to do with the idea of one. I didn’t have a past, I couldn’t think past the moment. And, you know, Robin felt the same way. She didn’t really think of herself as having a future even though she planned for one.” He looked up, met her eyes. “But I want to think about it. With you.”

“Okay.” She smiled. “So, I’m going to start by being honest with you about what I want. And if it’s not what you want, you need to tell me that, okay?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

She bit her lip and looked down at their joined hands. “I want you to keep your clothes here. I mean, I guess you can keep your room at Jake’s if you want, but I want you to be here at night. And when you want us to, we can go to the penthouse. And maybe you can teach me to cook so we stop spending all our money on takeout.” She peeked up at him to find him smiling. “How are we doing so far?”

“All good things. I can bring over my stuff tomorrow—”

“Okay, good. Because I…I want children.”

His smile slipped just a bit as his eyes widened. “What?”

“Not now,” Elizabeth said immediately. “I mean, I said Monica gave me all the clear, but I still have physical therapy to deal with and I need to figure out what kind of career I’m gonna have, but…I want a family, Jason. And that’s going to be a deal breaker.” Her heart was pounding as she continued. “I don’t want to hear in a year or two that it’s too dangerous and we have to stop—”

“It’s never going to be perfect,” Jason cut in. “And I can’t promise you one hundred percent safety, but I won’t walk away from you because of it. And I would never walk away from a child. Which…” He nodded. “Yeah, I want that, too. When you want it. When you’re ready.”

“Okay.” She just stared at him. “Really?”

“Really.” He leaned forward and kissed her, sliding his hands through her hair, then framing her face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she murmured as she drew him back against the pillows, parting her legs so he could settle between them. “And before you ask…I already set out the oxygen mask.”

He laughed and reached over to switch off the light.

I’m tired of being what you want me to be
Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface
I don’t know what you’re expecting of me
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes
Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow
Every step that I take is another mistake to you
– Numb, Linkin Park

---

Friday, July 25, 2003

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Bobbie stirred sugar into her coffee and grimaced as she looked at her watch. “Elizabeth’s hearing starts in two hours. I wonder if she’ll change her mind.”

“She seemed pretty sure when she called yesterday.” Carly sighed. “She feels the same way I do about the trial, Mama. She told me that she and Jason talked about it, and we’re on the same page.”

“And Sonny is the odd man out,” Bobbie said, with a lift of her brows. “Well, he’s never been one to trust the police. I’m surprised Jason is going along with it—but—” She pursed her lips. “Maybe not. If Elizabeth said this is what she needs—”

“I knew he’d listen to her on this. Just like I know he’d have agreed to it if it was just me. It’s just…” Carly shook her head. “I understand why Sonny…I get it. But I’m kind of tired of this attitude he has—Courtney has a little bit of it, too. This—I get how awful that week must have been for the people looking for me. I mean, I watched Elizabeth and Jason—I watched you when you came over. And I know Sonny had a breakdown. I know all of that, but at the same time—is it wrong to be angry that everyone is treating my trauma like it happened to them personally?”

“No—”

“I mean, I’m in the hospital, barely recovering, and Courtney wants to know if I could see any evidence of an affair on the monitors. And Sonny keeps talking about how they all went through it, but I’m sorry, Mama —” She bit her lip. “And maybe I’m starting to get why you wanted him to talk to someone.”

“I just…I wonder how much more could have been accomplished if Sonny had been involved. If he’d been another set of eyes. I mean, what Nikolas suggested about a panic room—that shouldn’t have been brand-new information to us. It shouldn’t have taken us until Friday to talk to Ned and learn about Faith and Ric. But Elizabeth had her overdose less than twelve hours after you went missing. She nearly died, Carly. And after that—”

“She became someone else Jason had to worry about.” Carly said, with a sigh. “She refused to leave which ended up being the right call, but—” She shook her head. “I just…I want this to be over, and part of me wants Sonny to just…make a call and end it. To make it over tonight. It’d be so easy and—” Tears stung her as she looked away from her mother. “To be able to lie my head down tonight and know he wasn’t in the world anymore—it’s disgusting how much he hangs over me and he’s not even in the zip code.”

“But you still want to testify.”

“I think—and knowing Kevin, he’d agree—that maybe I’m still processing the worst of it. I said it out loud to Sonny the other day and had a panic attack about ten minutes later. And no, I didn’t tell you when I got to your place that night, Mama, because I knew you’d worry. I had the guard drive me around for a while.”

“Carly—”

“Ric was going to kill me. He was going to keep me in that room for as long as he could, then kill me and take my baby to give to Elizabeth. And if Michael hadn’t seen him, if Jason and Sonny hadn’t gone to the house that night and found Elizabeth drugged up—”

“It haunts me how close we came to losing you, Carly.” Bobbie swallowed hard. “It was easier for Elizabeth to believe what happened because we were there, telling her she was drugged. And Ric only doubled her dose because he doubted her. But if she hadn’t believed, if Michael hadn’t seen you—”

“I might have been in there for weeks,” Carly murmured. “Longer. Maybe Ric would have been able to move me. And it’s hard to admit how close it all was. How if one thing had been different, I might still be gone.” She sighed. “I think I need to look him in the face, Mama, so I can put it away. I need to be the reason he’s gone. I need to be part of it. And I need to know that he’s rotting away, dying in a cell, just the way I nearly did. So yeah, as easy as it would be to just tell Sonny to hell with everything else, end it tonight—it wouldn’t stop the nightmares. It wouldn’t stop the panic attacks.”

She picked up her fork to stab at her omelet. “And if Sonny doesn’t understand that, then I don’t know where that leaves us. Because if he gives the order—”

“Will Jason allow it?” Bobbie finished. “I hope we won’t have to find out.”

Warehouse: Sonny’s Office

 “I don’t know what the hell Carly is thinking,” Sonny said as he paced the confines of his office. He turned back to Jason who remained sitting quietly in his seat. “Doesn’t she get how weak this makes me look—”

“To who?” Jason asked, interrupting him. He’d listened to Sonny complain about Carly’s decision to testify and her request that Ric be allowed to rot away in prison. He hadn’t been surprised to learn Carly’s wishes aligned with Elizabeth—in a lot of ways, the two of them were similar though he’d probably be risking his life if he told either of them that.

And he couldn’t understand why Sonny was turning Carly’s reasonable request into some sort of betrayal. He wanted Ric wiped from the face of the Earth, too, but as long as he was sent to prison, away from Elizabeth and Carly, Jason could live with not actually seeing him dead.

If he ever got out—if he were a free man—well, that was a different situation entirely.

“Zacchara? Ruiz?” Sonny sneered. “They’re going to think I’m weak, that I can’t handle my business—”

“And they’d be right, wouldn’t they?” Jason said, irritated for having let Elizabeth head to the courthouse without him because Sonny wanted to have a meeting. Once again, he hadn’t been there for her because of Sonny. He promised himself this would be the last time.

“What the hell does that mean—”

“It means you should have taken Ric out back and shot him months ago,” Jason shot back. “When you learned about the shit he did to Carly. When he kidnapped Courtney. When he tried to kill you. He shouldn’t have been breathing long enough to get to Carly again, to put a hand on Elizabeth. But you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t kill your mother’s son. Do you think you don’t already look weak?”

Sonny glared at him. “You think I’m a coward for letting him live?”

“I think I don’t give a damn—” Jason bit off his words. “Elizabeth wants to testify, too. And she also wants Ric to rot in prison. So that’s what going to happen—”

“If I give the order—”

“I’ll refuse it. I’m not breaking a promise to her because you need to feel strong, Sonny. And you can’t do it without me,” Jason said even as his partner opened his mouth to protest. “I’m the one with the prison connections. You wouldn’t even know who to ask.”

He exhaled slowly. “Carly went through hell. She gets to decide how this goes. Ric didn’t go after her because of who you are in business, Sonny. He did it because of your blood. It was personal. You had your chance to get rid of Ric.”

“You’d refuse a direct order—” Sonny stared at him blankly. “After everything Ric did to Elizabeth, you’d let him live—”

Jason checked the clock on the wall. He’d have to leave now if he had a prayer of making it to the hearing on time. “Look, she and I agreed — she gets to testify and if he goes to prison, he gets to rot there. If he gets acquitted, if he gets out on parole, all bets are off. I have to go, Sonny.”

“Where the hell do you have to go that’s more important?” Sonny demanded.

Jason got to his feet, impatient. “To the courthouse. Elizabeth might still have to testify, even though—”

Sonny blinked. “Testify? Wait.” He held up his hands, some color draining from his face. “Did I—what day is it? I don’t—when did the trial start? Did—”

His ire drained, Sonny sat down. “Did I lose time again? What day is it?” he repeated, his voice climbing in volume and tone.

“It’s July 25, Sonny. And it’s Elizabeth’s hearing about the restraining order. She’s not pushing hard to renew it, but the judge still might ask her to testify.” Weary now, Jason shook his head. “You need to talk to someone, Sonny. I thought after Carly was found, things would get better. But it’s not. And you’ve lost track of time before. You need—”

“I need the people in my life to do what hell the I say!” Sonny jumped back to his feet. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I have to go,” Jason repeated and then left, even as his partner sputtered in protest.

Port Charles Courthouse: Courtroom

 “Am I reading this correctly, counselor?” the judge asked as he peered at Diane Miller over the top of his glasses. “Your client has decided against testifying in today’s hearing?”

Elizabeth stared straight ahead at the judge. She hadn’t seen Ric since that terrible morning at the house almost a month earlier when she’d had to protect herself with a baseball bat, and she’d realized, just outside of the courtroom, that she wasn’t entirely ready to see him now.

But she knew she had people behind her that cared. Emily and Monica had come to give her support, while other members of the family had gone to Bensonhurst to bury Brooke. Scott and Bobbie were sitting in the front row, while Jason had taken a seat next to his sister and mother. Even Taggert and Cruz Rodriguez had shown up.

She had people behind her that cared, and that mattered.

“Your Honor, my client feels now that she has filed for divorce and moved out of the marital home, along with the fact that the defendant has moved to Crimson Point, her order is unlikely to be renewed. Putting herself through testifying would be useless.” Diane lifted her brows with a smirk. “Particularly given Your Honor’s history with the case.”

“Don’t get cute, Ms. Miller, or I’ll find you in contempt—”

“He means it, too!” Scott called out as Bobbie elbowed him. “Ow! Just giving her a warning.”

The judge ignored the outburst and looked at Elizabeth. “Mrs. Lansing—” Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest but the judge held up a hand. “I apologize. Miss Webber.” He eyed Ric’s table. “You might want to correct your legal petitions to the court, Mr. Lansing. Referring to her with a name that she never took doesn’t bode well for your case and makes me wonder if maybe Miss Webber might be better off with a formal, permanent order of protection after all.”

Elizabeth’s mouth dropped slightly as Diane scowled. “Politics,” she muttered. “The judge took a beating in the press after the way your case was handled. He’s up for re-election this year.”

“I apologize, Your Honor,” Ric said smoothly, his voice causing Elizabeth to shudder. “In my defense, I gave my…estranged wife…the necessary paperwork and she told me she had filed it.”

A lie. He’d given Elizabeth the paperwork, she’d said she’d get to it, and that had been the end of it. But it wasn’t important anymore.

“Miss Webber,” the judge began again. “Does Ms. Miller state your case correctly? Do you not intend to testify? Do you not think a protection order is warranted?”

“To be honest,” Elizabeth said, as she stood. “I didn’t intend to put myself through Ric Lansing’s cross-examination at this point because I didn’t think you’d renew the order anyway. It’s no doubt reached Mr. Lansing’s attention that I have reunited with the man I was dating before I met my estranged husband. I worried you might see my moving on as some sort of sign that I wasn’t…”  Afraid was not the right word. God, she didn’t want to admit it, but—  “That morning, when he threw me across the room, when he grabbed me, chased me—I was terrified. I knew he’d kidnapped Carly, I knew he’d drugged me. But somehow…I didn’t think he was capable of that.”

She took a deep breath. “And despite my charges of assault against him, Your Honor, you agreed to a temporary injunction that gave him power over me as I recovered from an illness he was responsible for and then kept him from being arrested for nearly killing me and kidnapping Carly Corinthos. So, with all due respect, Your Honor, I’d rather have the protection order, but I didn’t trust the system to grant it.”

The judged stared at her for a long moment with a furrowed brow, as if not sure whether to find her in contempt as he’d threatened her lawyer or just ignore her outburst. “Miss Webber, if I decide not to grant your request, you understand that Mr. Lansing will be allowed to contact you. He’s serving as his own attorney in the case you referred to.”

“And it’s my understanding that if I decline to sit for an interview with him, asking me again would count as witness harassment and intimidation,” Elizabeth said.  “Which might cause his bail to be revoked.” She looked at Ric who was almost smirking at her in return. “So, let this serve as your notice. Mr. Lansing, that it will be a cold day in hell before that happens. The next time you and I see one another will be in a court room to make sure you pay for what you did to me and to Carly.”

“Your Honor,” Ric protested. “I have every right to build the case to clear my name, and we’re in the middle of divorce proceedings. Contacting her—”

“Miss Webber, I’m granting a renewal of the protection order,” the judge said. “For an additional six months.” He banged the gavel. “Court is adjourned.”

Ric scowled, but gathered his papers, then stalked out. Taggert and Cruz got up and followed, likely to make sure he actually left the premises and didn’t hang out to wait for Elizabeth afterwards.

Elizabeth blinked and looked at Diane. “Why did that work?”

“I’m not sure…” Diane frowned as she twisted in her seat to look at Scott. “Thoughts, Scott?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Scott said with a shrug. “Maybe a few calls from some well-placed donors reminded him who the hell he was here to serve. He wants to win re-election in November, he can’t afford to annoy some people.”

“Some people?” Elizabeth repeated only to catch Emily’s eye as her best friend, Monica, and Jason joined them at the front of the court room. “Emily—”

“Grandfather was more than happy to make a few phone calls on your behalf, Liz. He’s feeling really helpless with everything that’s going on with Ned and Brooke, so this was something he could do. And Nikolas also made some calls from London.”

“I appreciate the support.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I’m glad we were able to get the order renewed without Carly having to testify. I think we both only really want to do this once, you know?”

She looked at Scott, who raised his brows at her. “We haven’t—we’re still talking about it, Scott. But I know I’m leaning towards a trial.”

“We got time, Elizabeth. This was a win today.” He looked at Bobbie. “Do you want a ride home or am I still in trouble?”

“You’re always in trouble,” Bobbie muttered but she followed the district attorney out of the room. Within twenty minutes, Jason and Elizabeth were able to extract themselves from the rest of the crowd and head for the parking garage where Jason parked his SUV.

Once inside the car, Jason exhaled slowly and just sat for a moment before starting the engine.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth leaned back against the headrest, her eyes closed. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m glad the judge changed his mind and renewed the order. With any luck, six months from now, the trial will be over, and he’ll be sentenced.” She looked at Jason. “Carly and I didn’t talk long yesterday, but I got the impression Sonny is maybe less on board than you are.”

“He thinks letting Ric live makes him look weak,” Jason admitted. “But I made it clear to him — this is what you and Carly want. This is what you guys get. It’s not up to me and Sonny. This isn’t business, it’s personal and—” He hesitated. “He’s not doing well, Elizabeth. He thought the trial was today.”

“He’s still refusing to get help?”

“He came close after Carly was rescued, but…he’s been doing this for years. Crashing, getting well again, sliding towards the edge again—”

“Jason—”

“Carly and I—we’ve been good at keeping him together. We just…it’s hard right now—with Ric.”

Elizabeth bit her lip and stared out the windshield at the cement walls of the parking garage. “If letting Ric go to trial and live in prison is such an issue, if Carly changes her mind, then I—”

“No.” He shook his head. “You told me this is what you need. I’m not going to asking to you change your mind because of Sonny—”

“You’re not asking me, Jason. I’m offering. I know how scary it was for Sonny to hallucinate Lily, and I don’t want to create problems with him—”

“You’re not, Elizabeth—” He looked at her. “You told me that you hated when I put them first—”

“And you listened. That matters, Jason. But it’s important that I listen to you. So, let’s…it’s an option I’m willing to consider if Carly ends up changing her mind, okay?”

“Okay.” Jason switched on the engine. “Let’s get out of here.”

Brownstone: Front Steps

Lucky leaned against the car as he waited for Kelsey to stop scowling at her phone. “It’s good news,” he repeated. “The last thing PCPD or the DA’s office needs is Ric Lansing with the freedom to go near Elizabeth.”

“I know, I know—” Kelsey finally shoved her phone in her purse and climbed out of his car. He shut the door. “I guess I’m just—I’m nervous. This is a huge case, and Scott’s trying so hard to do the right thing. He offered them a deal to avoid testifying—”

“Yeah.” Lucky rolled his shoulders. “Yeah, well he probably feels guilty for railroading my mom—” When she shot him a dirty look, he held up his hand in surrender. “Okay. Fine. I appreciate that Baldwin has approached Elizabeth’s case with this much care, and I know my aunt is relatively happy with him.”

“Yeah.” Kelsey blew out a breath. “Your aunt.” She looked at the Brownstone. “Are you sure we need to go to dinner tonight? I mean, it’s been a long day. I’m sure your aunt is tired—”

Lucky put his arm around her shoulders and propelled towards the stairs. “Hey, are you and I serious about doing this? You still want to date me?”

“Yes.” Kelsey wrinkled her nose, looked at him. “Yes. But if I have to meet your family, you have to meet mine. My mother is coming up to see me next month, and I want you to come to dinner with us.” She stopped him before he could open the front door. “And Scott.”

“Oh, man—” Lucky grimaced. “Kelsey—”

“You don’t have to like him,” she told him. “But I think we’ve moved past the part where we declare a neutral zone, you know? He’s my boss, and he’s someone that—” She bit her lip. “He’s a connection to my father. And I miss my dad, so sometimes, I can still feel close to him because my dad really loved Scott.”

“Okay.” He kissed her forehead. “Okay. Now, c’mon, I want you to meet my Aunt Bobbie. She’s been the rock of the Spencer family for most of my life, and she’s important to me.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry in advance about my sister, though. There’s no explaining her.”

Kelsey laughed as he opened the door and gestured for her to go inside.

Brooklyn, New York

 Cerullo Home: Front Porch

 When Ned stepped out the front door, he found Lois sitting in a patio chair on the cramped porch of her family’s home. With a glass of wine in her hand, his ex-wife sat in stony silence, oblivious to the sound of conversation coming from inside.

“I wondered how long you’d last,” Lois said sourly as Ned leaned against the porch post and looked out over the streets of Bensonhurst. “Ma never really liked you after we got divorced.”

“Well, she never really believed I was good enough for you.” Ned sipped his water. “Thank you. For letting my family come.”

“Yeah, well, that was Ma and Liv’s idea. Me? I don’t want to think about Port Charles again. You and me never have to talk again.”

Ned exhaled slowly and gently sat at the top of the stairs, his back to Lois. “Fair enough. I loved you. Part of me always will. I wanted to believe I could be the man that you thought I was. Eddie Maine. The good guy who did good things for the right reasons. I wanted that life. I wanted it with you.”

“You chose not to have it with me. Don’t give me none of that bull about what’s in your blood and how you’ll never be different—”

“It’s easy to blame my family,” Ned said, cutting in almost as if Lois hadn’t spoken. “Easier to think I couldn’t escape being Edward Ashton, but you’re right. I chose to lie to you about who I was. Chose to bring you to Port Charles. Chose to break promises to you, to put my family over you. I did all of that. And I knew even as I was doing it, I was hurting you. I was arrogant. I thought you’d stay with me. You’d already forgiven me for so much, I just assumed your generosity was a bottomless well I could never drain.”

Lois sat beside him and sighed. “Yeah, well, I was sure the man I loved was buried somewhere deep inside of you. That if I could just hold on tight, show you how much I loved the good in you, you could be that man all the time.”

“Lois—”

“The thing that maybe I didn’t want to see is that it was wrong to want you to change. I mean, I knew you were the kind of guy who not only would lie about his entire identity, but also marry someone else, have an affair…” She grimaced. “Anyway—”

“I was a terrible husband and an even worse father,” Ned continued. “And I don’t blame you for not wanting to have anything to do with me again.”

“It’s—you weren’t a terrible husband and father,” Lois said after a long moment. “It’s easy to blame you,” she continued, echoing his earlier statement. “Because then I don’t have to remember I was fed up with her before I sent her away. I cut her off from NYU. I sent her far from her friends and family. And I was on board with you keeping away the car and the phone. We made those decisions together, Ned.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Looking at you, thinking of you, it reminds me that we killed her, together. We took away her freedom, her choices, and we drove her into that park. And then when she needed us, we were angry with each other. We’re responsible for her death.”

“Maybe two percent of the responsibility is with us, Lois, but I’m gonna blame the animal who did this to her. Who made her hurt so badly, who took away her security and dignity. We punished her, Lois. Maybe too harshly. But—” Ned swallowed hard. “I’m not going to sue the city. It’s not enough. I don’t want them to just pay. I want to make sure it can’t happen to another family.”

“You mean, you want to clean up the streets of Port Charles?” Lois snorted. “I’ve heard this before. I don’t think it’s possible.”

“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But it’s time for someone to do something. Floyd put all those girls in danger for his political career. You think this is the first time he leaned on Mac to do something like this? You think this is the first cover-up?”

Lois hesitated, then sipped her wine. “Probably not. Ned—”

“I tried to find someone else. I don’t—if I run for mayor, Lois, Brooke’s case doesn’t go away. It stays on the front page. But I don’t want it—” He shook his head. “I’m not using her to get power. And people might come talk to you. If you tell me you can’t handle this, I’ll keep trying to find someone else. I have six more days before the deadline to register for the election.”

She was quiet for a long moment as the sunlight dipped below the horizon at the end of the street. The streetlights flickered on as he waited.

“Losing my little girl was the worst thing that has ever happened to me, but maybe I could live with it better if it’d been a car accident.” She finished her wine. “But the city knew the park was being stalked and didn’t even increase police presence. Floyd and anyone who went along with it—they threw our little girl away. Like she didn’t matter. And she’s not the only one. I didn’t do right by Brooke, Ned. Neither of us did. But maybe…maybe if we get someone in there who wouldn’t use it for his power—”

“Ten years ago,” she murmured. “Ten years ago, I probably would have thought you’d be the worst candidate for mayor. You were blackmailing Justus, covering up the accident, but you know…you did all of that to protect your family. Because you protect what’s yours.” She looked at him, met his eyes. “You end up as mayor, Ned, they’re all yours. Every single person. Protect them. Protect them better than we did our girl.”

He exhaled slowly, closed his eyes. “I wouldn’t have done it without your blessing, Lois.”

“Yeah, well, it’s gonna take some time before I can be in the same room with you, and that’s not because I hate you.” They got to their feet and Lois reached out to adjust his tie, smiling up at him almost like she’d done once upon a time. “She had your eyes. The way she carried herself sometimes and smiled at me—I can’t look at you and not see her. Right now…it’s too much.”

She leaned up and brushed a kiss against his lips. “But I’ll always love you and the perfect angel we created together.”

“I’ll always love you, too,” he murmured, kissing her again, remembering what he’d once discarded and taken for granted.

She stepped back and smirked at him, that gorgeous knowing look in her eyes that had always drawn him to her— “I better get back inside to Ma and the others. I’m…I’m glad you came.”

“Me, too.”

Forgive, sounds good
Forget, I’m not sure I could
They say time heals everything
But I’m still waiting
I’m through with doubt
There’s nothing left for me to figure out
I’ve paid a price, and I’ll keep paying
– Not Ready to Make Nice, Dixie Chicks

---

Wednesday, July 23, 2003

Port Charles Municipal Building: Scott’s Office

Elizabeth flashed Carly a hesitant smile as she stepped into the lobby of Scott’s office and found the pregnant blonde occupying one of the other seats. Scott’s secretary told them both it would be a minute, then stepped out into the hallway.

“Do you know why Scott called us?” Elizabeth asked as she sat next to Carly. “He wouldn’t say over the phone.”

Carly grimaced, shifted in her seat. “No. Just that it was about the case. I thought maybe he wanted to go over my statement…but now that you’re here…” She bit her lip. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s more serious than that.”

God, she hoped nothing had gone wrong with the case. Elizabeth closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat. Her protection hearing was at the end of the week and she wasn’t convinced that the same judge that had let Ric within five feet of her medical care after the embolism would renew the protection order, much less make it permanent.

If the case went south and her protection order expired…

“Hey, sorry to make you guys wait.” Scott gestured for them to go into his office, even helping Carly get to her feet. “How are you feeling today?”

“Just tired,” Carly admitted warily as she lowered herself into a seat at Scott’s conference table. Elizabeth took the seat next to her as Scott closed the door. “What’s up? Did something go wrong with the case?”

“No. It’s moving slow, but it’s moving. We have a preliminary trial date set for November, but I might push that out or Lansing might ask to move it up. We should know in a few weeks for sure.” Scott sat across from them. “I’ve been going over the medical records and your initial statements, and well, last week it occurred it me exactly what it means for Lansing to represent himself.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Wait, would he be the one cross-examining us?”

“How is that allowed? Letting the defendant near the victims?” Carly demanded. “Why wouldn’t the judge make him have someone else do it—”

“If Lansing weren’t an attorney, the judge would have assigned one to his case to advise him. I might have been able to petition for the other guy to do the questioning, but…” Scott shrugged. “I can’t take this to trial without putting you both on the stand, and you needed to know what that meant.”

Elizabeth looked at Carly, alarmed at her pasty complexion. “Carly, are you—”

“I feel sick,” she muttered, pressing her hand to her abdomen. “You mean he gets to stand in front of me and call me a liar about what he did? He gets to accuse Liz to her face, saying that it was her idea?”

Elizabeth bit her lip. “I haven’t even seen him since he was arrested the first time.” After he’d thrown her around their living room and tried to attack her over that Sun article. “But I didn’t—that means he’s probably representing himself in family court. Didn’t he have a lawyer at that first hearing? Jason said—”

“He fired him. I don’t know what Lansing is thinking, but yeah, I think maybe he is going to be do the presentation on Friday. Which means he’ll be cross-examining you about the assault and—” Scott sighed. “That’s why I asked you both to come in. We got a strong case. And Taggert took this case seriously. Even when your kidnapping veered away from Lansing, Carly, he did everything right, paperwork wise. There’s no technicalities. No corners cut.  With the two of you testifying, along with the medical evidence of your overdose and embolism, Elizabeth, I’m gonna put him away for the rest of his natural life.”

“Okay…” Carly tipped her head. “Are you just trying to reassure us?”

“The thing is…reading the statements, looking at the evidence…the two of you have been through hell. And it was bad enough when it was me and some other guy making you relive it. But I don’t know if I feel comfortable asking you to do it when Lansing is the other guy. He’s looking at twenty-five to life on two charges—the kidnapping and the attempted murder. Another ten on the assault earlier that day, Elizabeth. If he were found guilty of all three and sentenced consecutively, that’s sixty years before he gets to think about parole. But if he were to plead guilty—if we avoided a trial—”

Elizabeth blinked, looked at Carly whose eyes were wide. “But this is good publicity for you, Scott. I know how hard you’ve worked for us. I mean, you got those contempt charges when it looked like the judge might let Ric win my power of attorney—”

“Yeah, I mean, don’t you take a hit if you plead it down?” Carly asked. Her color had returned.

“Maybe,” Scott admitted. “If we go that route, I mean, it’d be nice if you two would release a statement saying we decided it together, but I just—” He shook his head. “The PCPD has done enough damage here, and my office wasn’t much better. We knew who kidnapped you that first night, Carly. We knew he was probably drugging you, Elizabeth. And we didn’t do enough. I can’t ask either of you to put your lives on hold for six more months, at best, and then let that scumbag torture you on the stand.”

“What would you offer him?” Elizabeth asked softly. “Not that—I just want to know. Because I really like the idea of him rotting away in prison.”

“Yeah, in a small cell with other people bringing him food and never seeing the light of day,” Carly muttered. “If we could swing solitary confinement, that’d be great—”

“Well, I’d open with twenty-five to life on the kidnapping and ten for assault. Basically, cut that sixty years almost in half, and see where the negotiations go from there.”

“You would drop the attempted murder charge,” Elizabeth murmured. She rubbed her chest, still remembering the pain and pressure before the embolism. “What about the overdose?”

“We have a little less evidence there without the overall murder charge.” Scott grimaced. “I don’t love it, but it’s a place to open the bargaining.”

“What’s the bottom line, then?” Carly raised her brows. “What’s the least you’d take before you walked away? If I’m giving up the idea of putting him away for sixty years, then I wanna know what we might expect—”

“I’d probably drop the negotiations if we got less than fifteen to life. I think fifteen is rock bottom, and he knows it. He’d probably accept it.”

“Fifteen years,” Elizabeth murmured. He’d be gone, out of their lives for fifteen years. Long enough to forget him, maybe. “I don’t know.”

“You know what? Let’s revisit this after the hearing on Friday.” Carly looked at Elizabeth. “I might have to testify. Your lawyer asked me to, and it’ll be…it’ll be a test run.” She looked back at Scott. “I get what you’re trying to do, Scott. And I appreciate it. Is there any other reason you might not want to go to trial? Is it just us?”

Scott pressed his lips together. “I think your mother might have told you that Lansing has subpoenaed your medical records and Elizabeth’s. Once he saw the referrals to therapists, he also asked for Kevin and Gail’s records—”

“Wait, what?” Carly demanded, leaning forward as Elizabeth’s stomach pitched. “He can’t have those—”

“I’m asking for the judge to appoint a special master to make that distinction, but…anything that goes to credibility…the thing is, Carly…”

“It wasn’t just my records he asked for,” Carly muttered, pressing a hand to her face. “Well, we’re in luck—Sonny’s never talked to a—” She scowled. “Scott, don’t tell me you’re turning over my mother’s statement—”

“She hasn’t officially made one. I’m dancing on an ethical line there because I know she’s got information that I haven’t asked for. But the last thing I want to do is piss Bobbie off or make this worse. I’m filing an injunction—Sonny was tangential at best to your rescue. The ultimate information came from the security footage and the real estate agent. The fact that Sonny called Jason isn’t important. I can call anyone else who watched that video.”

“But a deal would keep all of that off the table,” Elizabeth said slowly. She sighed. “Carly’s right. I think we should revisit this after the hearing.”

A hearing where it would be Ric questioning her instead of some random lawyer. God help them all.

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Taggert stormed into Mac’s office and threw a file down on his desk. With some trepidation, Mac looked down and saw the name Webber, Elizabeth scrawled on the tab, along with a notation that the case had been closed.

“You know where that was?” Taggert demanded. “You wanna know where the rookies found this?”  He leaned over Mac’s desk, planting his hands on the edge. “Not in cold storage. In the closed archives.”

“Taggert—”

“Falconieri and Rodriguez thought it was a mistake—you know, there was a confession, maybe the cop who put away just got it wrong. I could tell Spencer didn’t buy it, and you know why? Because he knows I’m the one that put that case on the inactive list.” Taggert bared his teeth as he growled. “Because I personally walked that fucking box down to cold storage myself and put it on a shelf. What the hell happened to her case, Mac?”

Mac slowly got to his feet. “It must have been a mistake,” he said, but his voice sounded weak even to his own ears. “Taggert—”

“The dress you told me you sent to testing? It’s still in the fucking box. It wasn’t supposed to be in there. It wasn’t when I walked that box down there. It was in in the evidence locker, and what’s worse—it hasn’t been touched since we checked it into evidence in March of 1998. You falsified a lab report.” Taggert shook his head. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but—”

“I’ll look into it—”

“Spencer gave you a report with her case listed as one that should be reopened and pulled. And you edited that report before it went to the DA—you took the Webber case off the list—What the hell—”

“Her case has another suspect—it would be harder to link it—” Mac shook his head. “I was going to talk to you about it today. As for why it wasn’t in cold storage, I don’t know. I’ll look into it,” he repeated.

“Don’t bother.” Taggert grabbed the file back from Mac’s desk. “From now on, only my team comes near these cases. And I’m reopening the Webber case.” He arched a brow at his boss. “Anything you want to tell me before I dig deeper? Because if Baker isn’t the guy, and we could have known that five years ago—”

“Taggert—”

“Do you know how close we are to running out time on the statute because you didn’t process her fucking kit?” Taggert snarled. “We got five years from the date she turns eighteen. We got until November 1 this year to get, at least, a DNA profile. And the only reason we got a break is the poor kid was sixteen when the whole thing happened. If she’d been an adult, we’d be out of luck.” He shook his head. “This is bullshit.”

He stormed back out the way he’d come, and Mac sat down at his desk, staring blindly at the blotter in front of him. God help him, he’d really thought Tom Baker had raped Elizabeth Webber. He hadn’t thought they’d get any DNA running her dress since it had been turned over to the hospital several days after her rape—so he’d gone along with Floyd, thinking that it might be their best bet to make sure Baker did time for something.

But if Baker had been innocent of the rape—

If Elizabeth’s rapist had continued his rampage and raped six more girls—including Brooke Lynn—

How was Mac ever going to live with himself?

Harborview Towers: Lobby

Elizabeth kept her expression carefully blank as her elevator was boarded just before the doors closed. Courtney Matthews hesitated before crossing the threshold but eventually stepped into the elevator and then stood in the opposite corner.

She looked at the button lit up on the panel, then stared straight ahead as the doors closed and the car began its ascent. “I didn’t think Jason was staying here these days. Didn’t he take a room at Jake’s?”

Elizabeth bit her lip before answering. “He did, but he had a meeting he couldn’t take at the warehouse.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. What to say to the woman that had once been engaged to your boyfriend? Especially the woman who had been…basically jilted at the altar even though the ceremony had actually been canceled because of Carly’s kidnapping, not because Jason had left Courtney for Elizabeth.

The elevator climbed slowly to the penthouse level as Elizabeth dug her fingers tightly into the strap of her purse.

“I can’t stop being angry at you,” Courtney finally said as the elevator reached the eighth floor. “I know you weren’t having an affair before Jason broke the engagement, but I still can’t seem to make myself any less angry or not hate you. Because if you’d just…” She shook her head with a rueful laugh. “If you hadn’t believed him, if you hadn’t helped to find Carly—God, maybe he wouldn’t have been so angry with me.”

“Courtney—”

“But no. You had to go and prove how much more well-suited you are for his life than I am. I loved him, Elizabeth. That wasn’t a lie.”

“I didn’t think it was—”

“And I was humiliated when he left me. When those tabloids said he was at your house every day—you were calling him, checking in, and damn you, he looked forward to those calls—” Her voice broke as the elevator opened on their floor.

Courtney stepped off, started for Sonny and Carly’s penthouse but then whirled around to face her. “He never loved me. I get it now, but you know what should worry you, Elizabeth? How easy it was for him to lie about it. He lied to me, he lied to you, but he lied to himself—” She shook her head. “It should worry you that he could stop giving a damn about me like he flipped a switch in his head. Maybe the doctors were right—maybe he really is damaged—”

“Stop—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “You’re hurt. And none of us look great in this situation. Yes, Jason and I are together now. And yes, we’ve been together almost since you two broke up. But you were my friend and you went after him—”

“He sure didn’t run away,” Courtney snapped. “I went after him, but he didn’t seem to mind it.” She smirked. “We were sleeping together by Christmas. Did you know that?”

“Did you know he and I nearly got back together that November?” Elizabeth said softly, not even a little threatened by Courtney’s revelation. After all, hadn’t she run away from Jason? Run to Lucky? Run to Zander, to Ric?

Wasn’t Jason allowed to be lonely?

Courtney pressed her lips together.  “So, what—I was nothing more than a rebound—”

“That’s not for me to answer, Courtney. Jason and I had our problems, and we both ran from them. We’re really good at running, and we’ve been doing it for years. I’m sorry you were hurt. I know Jason cared about you—”

Courtney threw up her hands as if to ward off Elizabeth’s empathy. “Don’t bother trying to make yourself look good. He was engaged to me and that didn’t seem to bother you at all.”

“And he had broken up with you before anything happened. You know that Courtney. You know he broke up with you before you took Michael to the island. Before I got sick. And yeah, he broke up with you in part because of me, but it was because of you, too. I believed Ric had kidnapped Carly, and I believed he was drugging me. I let Jason search my home. I let him install cameras and surveillance. You called the cops who searched his home.”

“I called the cops because of Carly—”

“And that’s why Jason broke up with you. Because you don’t want to live in a world where your best friend gets kidnapped and you can’t call the police as a first choice—”

“I just—” Courtney’s voice broke. “I just thought if Jason could call the cops last year, why couldn’t I? Why was it okay for him to work with Taggert for you and not Carly?”

Elizabeth sighed. “Courtney—”

“Just save it. You’ve got all the answers, don’t you? You and Jason are this great, epic love story and people like me are just the obstacles on the road to your true love,” she spat out. “Lucky, me, Zander—we’re just roadkill.”

She spun around and slammed the penthouse door. Belatedly, Elizabeth realized that in the tiny hallway outside of the Corinthos penthouse, stood poor Max Giambetti, Sonny’s guard when the penthouse was occupied.

“Miss Webber,” Max said blandly. He carefully kept his eyes forward. “Nice to see you looking so well.”

“Nice to see you, too,” Elizabeth muttered before walking over to Jason’s penthouse.  She knocked lightly, hoping she wasn’t interrupting his meeting.

Jason pulled open the door and she bit her lip, finding Bernie, their business manager, sitting on the sofa. “Oh, hey, I thought you’d be done by now—”

“We’re just talking about regular business now,” he told her, catching her elbow as Elizabeth turned to leave. “And we’re almost done.” He kissed her, his hand sliding from her elbow to her wrist. “Your pulse is racing,” he said, drawing back, his brow furrowed. “Are you okay?”

She very nearly rolled her eyes, but she accepted that it was going to take longer than three weeks for Jason to stop monitoring every little change in her health. “Yeah. It’s just been a long morning. I’m sorry to interrupt—”

“I’ll just leave these contracts here for you,” Bernie said as he slid the last of his paperwork into his briefcase. “We really were done, Miss Webber.” He got to his feet. “It’s good to see you on your feet again.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

When he’d left, Elizabeth sighed and dropped her purse on Jason’s desk. “Now I know why you never come here anymore. I ran into Courtney on the elevator.”

“I just thought it would be better if I gave her some space until she figures out what to do about…” Jason shrugged, sitting on the arm of his sofa. “I mean, your condo is good, and the security upgrade is okay but—”

“It’s not quite the bulletproof fortress this place is,” Elizabeth finished. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him again. “It’s okay. It’s awkward, and she has every right to be angry at us both. I mean, at least you didn’t actually marry a sociopath who tried to kill you.”

Jason grimaced and drew her in more closely against him. “I hate that I hurt her, but if I had gone through with it just because I didn’t want to be a bad guy or because she’s Sonny’s sister, it would have been worse.”

“She did say something interesting that I wanted to ask you about,” Elizabeth said, tilting her head to the side, her fingers playing the hair at nape of his neck. “She said she thought it would be okay to call the police because you’d worked with Taggert for me.”

Jason frowned. “Yeah. I told you about it in the hospital, remember?”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth smiled at him. “But we were talking about something else and I never really thought about it after that. I just…I wish I had known, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“Jason, half the problems we had last summer was because neither one of us was being all that up front about how we felt. If I knew you’d cooperated with the police—Taggert specifically—to find me, let me tell you, I wouldn’t have had any doubts in my mind about how you felt.”

“I was desperate,” Jason admitted. “Courtney probably knows because of AJ. I went to the Quartermaines—Edward blackmailed me into dinner—”

“Cooperation with Taggert and dinner at the Quartermaines?” Elizabeth smirked. “That’s a declaration of love right there. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It didn’t seem important,” he said with a shrug. “We found you. You were alive.” And that was true—Jason wasn’t the kind of guy to broadcast anything that might put him in the position of being a hero. He’d done what he’d done to find her, and once he had, he probably hadn’t thought about it again. “Does it really matter?”

“No, but it’s nice to know.” She pressed her lips together. “That’s a lie. Yeah, it matters. Because I was a mess last summer. I thought we were going somewhere, but you kept leaving for Sonny and Carly, and then not making a move—I thought I was imagining things and I made…choices based on that. But knowing what you went through to find me—I wasn’t imagining any of it.”

“I wish I could have handled everything better. Been more honest with you.” He sighed. “But I guess I wasn’t ready to do that yet.”

“Yeah. Well, it’s not your fault I have this thing about people who stay…” She shook her head. “Anyway. I came over to tell you about my meeting with Scott.”

Jason frowned at the change in topic, but he allowed it. He straightened, and she stepped back. “What happened at the meeting? I found out after you left that Carly got called there, too.”

“Yeah, he wanted to talk to us about the case.” Elizabeth dropped onto the sofa with a huff. “Ric is going to be representing himself at the trial—and probably at the hearing on Friday.”

Jason scowled, taking a seat next to her, turning to face her slightly. “What does that mean? Why does that change the case?”

“It doesn’t, but Scott wanted to make sure Carly and I understood that a trial where Ric is his own attorney means he’ll be questioning us.”

“What? Can’t he stop that—”

“Not really. Which also means he’ll be questioning us on Friday. Scott…isn’t sure he wants to put us through that. He said the case is rock solid, but…” Elizabeth shrugged and picked at a loose thread on her jeans. “It doesn’t mean it won’t suck. Particularly since Ric subpoenaed records from Kevin and Gail. Scott’s trying to keep that access limited, but—” She looked at Jason with some trepidation. “Ric also subpoenaed Sonny’s medical records.”

Jason winced. “Well, there’s nothing to find in the records, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t things Ric could do.” He hesitated. “Are you okay…with testifying?”

“Well, that’s the thing. Scott offered—he thinks if he drops the attempted murder charges, he could get Ric to plead to just the kidnapping.”

“But that’s almost your entire case,” Jason told her. “And isn’t the kidnapping only twenty-five years? That’s cutting it in half—Damn Baldwin—”

“The whole point of a plea deal is to make it attractive enough for Ric to take it. My case isn’t as solid on its own, and there’s still a chance Ric could ask for a severance. And then it’s just my medical records and Carly. Which means—”

“You’d have to testify a third time—” Jason shook his head. “So, Baldwin wants to plead it out—”

“He could probably get life without parole in a trial, Jason. Carly’s case is really strong. If it went to trial—Ric would get put away for probably the rest of his life. Baldwin isn’t asking because of the strength of the case. I honestly think he wants to spare us.”

“He’s close to Bobbie,” Jason admitted. “He never did go after us for search warrants on the warehouse—And he got himself charged with contempt over your case.” He hesitated. “Is that what you want? To avoid testifying?”

“Well, Diane isn’t really that hopeful that we’ll get the protection order renewed on Friday,” Elizabeth admitted. “I talked to her after the meeting with Scott. She thinks Ric is going to go after you. And since the judge is the same guy who gave Ric that injunction—”

“He’ll paint himself as the wronged husband with an adulterous wife who is now public with the guy from the papers.” Jason exhaled slowly. “What about Carly?”

“She said she’d testify, but honestly, Jason, I don’t know if I want to go through with testifying at the hearing at all. Ric is in Crimson Point. Carly and I are surrounded by guards. If I testify at that hearing, it’s going to be about you and me, not what Ric did to me.”

He put an arm around her and drew her in closer. “What do you want to do about the trial?”

“Diane said Ric won’t be able to use you against me the same way. Not with Carly’s case at the same time. And all of the medical experts and witnesses can testify—” She hesitated. “We’ll go to the hearing, but I’m not going to push the order hard. I want to testify at the trial, though. I want to go to trial. I mean, if Carly doesn’t want to, that’s okay with me. And we can handle it that way, but…” She took his other hand and laced their fingers together. “I know…we don’t really talk much about what’s going to happen to Ric after he’s sentenced. I mean, once he’s in jail.”

“Elizabeth—”

“But Carly and I were talking about how long he’d be in jail, and I realized…I want him to rot in prison. I want him to be locked away, in a cell.” She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “I get there may be reasons I can’t…that it can’t happen that way, but if there’s a way that it can…”

He was quiet for a long moment, but then nodded. “If that’s what you need—if that’s what Carly needs, then that’s what will happen.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

“This time, I’m listening to you,” he cut in. “And if this is something you need to get past this, that’s what matters to me. How I feel about him? Not gonna change if he’s dead.” He winced, as if the blunt statement had gone too far. “Anyway—”

“Thank you,” she said. She turned slightly to slid her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Sonny waited until after dinner had been cleaned up and they’d put Michael down to bed that night before asking Carly about her meeting. She had remained at the dinner table, going over some paperwork from the club and didn’t notice at first when he’d come down from tucking Michael in.

He pulled out the chair across from her, sat in it, but didn’t pull himself to the table, angling the chair slightly out towards the rest of the room. “Are you ready to tell me what happened in the meeting today?”

Carly looked up at him, sighed, and put down her paperwork. She didn’t say anything.

“You didn’t say anything when you got home,” Sonny continued. “What happened? It can’t be that bad, Carly. If they’d dropped the charges or anything else ridiculous, I’d know. It’d be all over the news.”

She sighed. “No, it’s not bad news. I just…I knew it would be an argument, Sonny. And I just…” Her brown eyes, so often lit with humor or mischief, were dull now. Fatigued.

“He called me…and asked Elizabeth to come in as well to…ask us how we wanted this to happen.” She grimaced. “The trial, I mean.”

Sonny tilted his head. “What do you mean? You’ll testify, Ric will go to jail.” Where he would meet with a very much deserved accident.

“Yeah, well, Scott is taking into consideration that Ric is defending himself. Which means when I testify, when Elizabeth testifies…it’s him we face. Not some lawyer I don’t know. But the man who actually…” She looked away.

Rage, always simmering beneath the surface, boiled over, but Sonny kept his face calm. His voice even. “I hadn’t…I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

“I guess we hadn’t either. As bad as it will be for me, I didn’t…I didn’t spend time with Ric the way Elizabeth did,” Carly admitted. “He doesn’t know the buttons to push. He didn’t spend all those months manipulating me. He’s going to get into that courtroom and he’s going to blame it on the miscarriage, and God, Sonny, I’ve lost a child. All I can think about is her on the stand having to deal with that, and I get sick to my stomach. I don’t want to face him. I don’t want to look at him. And I don’t want Elizabeth to do it either.”

“And Baldwin is going to force you do it?” Sonny demanded. “Can’t he just find a way to do this without you?”

“He has,” Carly said. “That’s why he called us in. Ric also subpoenaed our therapist’s records.” Her eyes shifted away for a moment before returning to him.  “He suggested maybe he could plead Ric out. Avoid a trial.”

A deal would be good. Faster. Sonny could arrange for that accident by the end of the year. “Why would you think this would be an argument?”

“Because I can practically see what you’re thinking right now. A deal gets this over faster, and Ric can die in prison.”

Sonny shrugged slightly. “That’s the plan, isn’t? Trial or now. He doesn’t get to live, Carly. Kidnapping you. Locking you in the room. Nearly killing Elizabeth. We’re done with him—” He stopped. “Exactly what is it that you think is supposed to happen?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to think about it. But now…we asked Scott for time. To get through the hearing on Friday…but…” Carly met his eyes. “I think I have to testify, Sonny. I have to get on the stand and face him. I don’t think I’m going to get past this unless I do.”

“Okay, I can see that. I don’t like it, but I can see it. And if I know Elizabeth at all, I figure she’ll probably come to the same conclusion. Or I hope so. I think you’re right. I think it’ll be good for both of you to face that bastard. Put him behind you.” Sonny frowned. “What are we arguing about then—” He stopped. “No.”

“I also want him to rot in prison,” Carly murmured. “So that I can go see him once in a while. See him in that ugly prison clothing. Without his manicures. Without his fancy clothing. I want to see him broken. And I want to see it repeatedly. He wanted me to live in that box until I had my baby, and then he was going to kill me. I want him to live every day in a small box until he goes mad, and I want him to always remember who put him there. I want him to rot away slowly, Sonny.” She paused. “I don’t want you to do anything.”

The image she painted was seductive and he was nearly swayed. But every moment Ric was alive was a moment that son of bitch hadn’t earned. He’d signed his death warrant and leaving him alive at this point would be a sign of weakness Sonny simply couldn’t afford.

“I get why you want that,” he said slowly. “But I can’t do it. He needs to die, Carly. And I need to be the one to do it.”

“Sonny—”

“Look, this happened to you. And it happened to Elizabeth. Don’t think Jason and I don’t know that. That we don’t grieve for all we could have done to stop it. To keep you from hurting, but I promise you he wants Ric’s blood as much as I do.”

“Sonny—”

“No, no. This happened to you. And it should be about you,” Sonny agreed. “And I get that. But, damn it, Carly, I went through it, too.” And now his voice cracked. He looked away. “Not knowing if you were still alive—I—I fell apart, Carly. I know that, and this—this is how I can make it right. Jason, Bobbie, and Elizabeth ran themselves ragged trying to find you, tearing that house apart—”

While he had babbled like an idiot, hallucinating back here in the penthouse, wallowing in own self-pity. No—this was his chance to finally do something right. Something he should have done months ago when Ric had showed his true colors. He’d let the bastard live to torture his family.

He pushed away from the table, stood. “This happened to you, and it happened to Elizabeth. But we went through it, too. Testify. Face the demons. We can talk about how long I’ll wait. A year, two. You can visit him, see him begin to rot. But that’s all I can give you.”

Carly exhaled slowly. Also stood. “I would never pretend that you and Jason, that my mother and Courtney—that there wasn’t suffering. Worry. Terror. I get that. But you were all bystanders. Collateral damage.”

She picked up her purse, looped the strap over her shoulder and edged around the table, away from Sonny. Toward the door.

“I don’t know what Elizabeth wants to do,” Carly said. “And that’s something she and I will decide, but you know what? She and I will decide, and I can promise you, Sonny, that when Elizabeth tells Jason how she wants to handle it, he’ll listen to her. That’s how much he loves her. I just wish I could say the same.”

“Damn it, Carly—”

“I’m going to talk to my mother. We’ll—” Carly stopped at the door. “You’re angry now,” she said gently. “And the thought of letting Ric rot in prison probably never crossed your mind. So, we’ll talk about this later.”

“Wait—”

But she had already slipped out the door, and to be quite honest, Sonny wasn’t sure what he would have said if she’d turned back.