Something’s gotta give, something’s gotta break
But all I do is give and all you do is take
Something’s gotta change, but I know that it won’t
No reason to stay, is a good reason to go
Is a good reason to go
– Something’s Gotta Give, Camila Cabello

---

Saturday, June 28, 2003

General Hospital: ICU

 An hour later, Elizabeth was moved to her own room in the ICU unit, and Jason went to sit at her bedside. Bobbie and Nikolas joined him, and they rotated to keep with the unit’s two at a time restriction.

Jason understood that comas could be healing—that this was likely Elizabeth’s body forcing her to stop, to take a break, and to rebuild her strength. But he also knew that she might not be completely unconscious, completely unaware.

He didn’t want her to wake up and be alone.

Around eight that evening, it was his turn to go for a coffee refill and Nikolas took his place. He knew the other man had spent most of the night on the plane from London, only to arrive in the middle of chaos, launch himself into Carly’s rescue, and then Elizabeth’s medical issues.

Nikolas seemed like a different person—not the immature man he’d quarreled with in the past, and Jason remembered now that he’d been in London with Laura Spencer after her breakdown. Maybe that accounted for the difference in attitude.

Jason took the elevator to the cafeteria where he intended to grab another round of coffees and something for Bobbie to eat. He hesitated when he saw Ned leaving the conference room, deep in discussion with another board member Jason didn’t recognize.

“Jason.” Ned’s steps slowed as they drew abreast of one another. “I—I heard about Elizabeth in the ICU. How is she?”

“In a coma,” Jason said, shortly. “She nearly died. Twice today.”

Ned looked away. “I can’t ever make it right,” he murmured. “I can’t ever go back—the signs were there, but I let myself ignore them. I let myself be swept away by hate and anger.” He locked eyes with his cousin. “Should I be looking over my shoulder for Faith?”

“No,” Jason answered. “She’s not an issue anymore.”

Ned exhaled slowly. “Thank you—I know you didn’t do it for me,” he said when Jason started to shake his head. “But my daughter is safe now. And that’s what matters. Grandmother is praying for Elizabeth, and…well, Grandfather sends his wishes. Emily is making arrangements to come home.”

Jason grimaced. “I forgot to call her—” he realized, dragging his fingers through his hair. “I should have—”

“I thought you had your hands full with finding Carly and…with Elizabeth. I ran into Monica and she asked me to call because she was busy with Elizabeth as well. She was trying to find a flight out tonight, but it probably won’t be until tomorrow—she had to deal with her program, but I’m sure she cares even less about that now.”

“I know Elizabeth will want to see her. Thanks.” Jason started past him. “I need to get coffee and food for Bobbie.” He dismissed Ned from his thoughts entirely and headed for the cafeteria.

General Hospital: Hallway

Sonny carefully closed Carly’s hospital room door as he joined Courtney in the hallway. He accepted his sister’s awkward embrace, then stepped back. “Michael is at the penthouse?”

He wasn’t really sure how to deal with Courtney—not after the last week. Courtney had called the police, proved how little she understood the way Sonny lived his life—and had actively proved to be a detriment. She wasn’t someone he could trust—and he struggled now to accept her as someone who belonged in his life at all.

Blood didn’t create that bond—his other half sibling had proved that thoroughly.

“Yes. We landed just after seven,” Courtney told him. She looked past him, through the small window into Carly’s room. “How is she?”

“All right, I guess. It’s hard to say. Everything is still settling in.” Sonny rubbed his hands over his face. “It still doesn’t seem real.”

“I know.” Courtney stepped closer to the door, sliding her fingers down the wooden surface. “It’s…it’s insane. No matter how much anyone searched, it wouldn’t have mattered unless they found the entrance. How did they figure out it was a panic room?”

“A lot of things went right at the same time. We got lucky.” Sonny shifted. “Courtney—”

“It was a bad week. We—we were all scared. And I know I made some mistakes, Sonny. I’m not oblivious. I know—I know I was wrong to make those calls, to let them in…I just—” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I wanted to help. I wanted to do something…it’s not like you or Jason would have let me.”

Sonny brought his fingers to his chin, stroked it lightly. “It’s not that things were said we didn’t mean. I…I don’t pretend I know what happened between you and Jason—”

“I threatened to move out.” Courtney avoided his eyes. “I was so jealous he was concerned about Elizabeth, but I guess it makes sense now. I mean, Ric was really going after her. I saw…I saw on the news that he hurt her this morning—that he was already arrested before they found Carly—” Courtney shook her head. “It’s awful. I didn’t know how bad it was. I would have helped her—”

“The thing is, Courtney…” Sonny shifted. Was it his place to tell her what was going on? “I think…this week cleared a few things up.”

She frowned. “What—what do you mean? I don’t—” She pressed her lips together. “No. No. I was jealous, but Jason asked me to marry him—” She held up her hand, wiggled her ring finger. “I know—I know we agreed to take a break—”

“Is that what you did?” Sonny asked gently. “A break? Or maybe…it was something more final?”

“Jason proposed,” Courtney repeated. “What are you trying to say—” She shook her head. “We argued, Sonny. And I know I made things worse—”

“Because Jason doesn’t love you the way you deserve to be loved,” her brother said quietly. “And you knew that. You figured you could live with it. And maybe Jason was going to try to, but…Elizabeth exists. And Jason almost lost her today.”

Her face crumpled. “He just—he just broke up with me yesterday,” she all but whimpered. “You’re telling me he moved on—”

“He never moved away from her to begin with, Courtney.” Sonny reached out, but she backed up. “You know that. You had to see it. The rest of us did—”

“He didn’t love her. He told me he didn’t love her—” Or…had he just not answered the question? She closed her eyes. And wasn’t her brother right? Hadn’t she always known? “He’s down with her now, isn’t he?”

“He hasn’t been up to see Carly since she was moved from the ER,” Sonny admitted. “Elizabeth is in a coma—and well, no one can say what’s going to happen.”

“Oh.” Courtney folded her arms. “I didn’t realize it was that serious. I—I guess—” She swallowed. “I’ll go back to the penthouse. Your penthouse,’ she said quickly. “Make sure Michael is settled. I’ll come back tomorrow. Hopefully Elizabeth…she’ll be better. And Carly will be up for visitors. I really…I am relieved she’s okay, Sonny. That’s all I wanted.”

“I know.” Sonny embraced his sister again. “Thank you for taking care of Michael this week. It meant a lot to me.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Shit was about to hit the fan.

Mayor Garrett Floyd stormed into Mac’s office around eight-thirty that evening. Trailing behind him was a sullen Scott Baldwin, who had likely already received his own chewing out. Mac rose from his desk, extended his hand, but Floyd ignored him.

“What we have here is a fuck up of massive proportions,” Floyd announced, folding his arms over his chest, his suit blazer discarded as soon as he entered the room. “I already told Baldwin I’m not interested in playing the blame game—”

“That’s not what it sounded like,” Scott muttered.

“I can recognize that I have not always sent the best of signals to your office. I’ve always prioritized organized crime when running for office. As did you,” Floyd said, shooting Scott a dark look. “And maybe I’ve been too focused on the election this year. But I think we can all agree that we’ve had blinders.”

Mac hesitated, then nodded. If that’s the way Floyd wanted to play this, fine. But he’d be damned if Floyd was going to make his officers look bad. “To be fair, this investigation was done by the book. All leads were followed. We didn’t find Carly because we—”

“Didn’t follow every lead,” Floyd corrected. “The way I read the report is Morgan and Corinthos confirmed the existence of a panic room. If Lansing was the main suspect, why didn’t you tear his life apart? He wasn’t even brought in for official questioning until after he assaulted his wife.” He narrowed his eyes. “An assault for which this department can be blamed.”

“I’ve already begun the process to terminate Capelli,” Mac began but scowled when Floyd shook his head. “Why not? He was insubordinate—”

“He can spin it by suggesting your directive was unclear. He had your permission to leak, Mac. We fire him, we got a wrongful termination suit on our hands.”

Mac exhaled slowly. “I can understand that but if we don’t do something, Elizabeth Webber can also sue us. She’s got Justus Ward on her side, and you better believe he’ll recommend filing charges.” He met Floyd’s eyes, knew the mayor followed him. “We don’t want her digging into how this case unfolded.” Or any other cases. Floyd cleared his throat—and Mac knew he’d gotten the message.

“We can turn that around,” Scott said. “You read the rookie’s report, Rodriguez? She asked him to come inside the house, kept him in the loop. She trusted him. Now yeah, he should have called for backup, but he kept the trust of the victim and was instrumental in Carly’s rescue. It would be good morale to reward him for it. Show the other rookies in his class the kind of behavior we’re looking for. Capelli takes a thirty-day rip—”

“It’s not going to change the beating we’re going to get in the papers tomorrow,” Floyd said. “But I see your point. We have three rookies, don’t we? They all worked the case. That’s good. They probably did the best work—”

“Taggert did good work on this case,” Scott murmured. “He was the arresting officer this morning. Took Elizabeth’s statement.” He met Mac’s eye. “But I know he’s upset with how she was treated. Has he spoken to you?”

“No, but I imagine he’s waiting to see how Elizabeth does. She’s still in a coma according to Monica.” Mac rubbed his eyes and took his seat. He gestured for both to take seats. “I have some thoughts on how we can get ahead of this. I talked to the beat reporter at the Herald—they’re planning a long editorial tomorrow about the way this case was handled. They’re going to criticize its handling and assignment to Organized Crime.”

“It made sense at the time,” Scott murmured. “It dealt with Corinthos and Morgan. It’s been policy to refer any case dealing with them to OCU, but…maybe that needs to be revised. Major Crimes should be getting the focus. The resources. One of the reasons the Alcazar case got all messed up is…we saw the mafia connection, and we didn’t think about outside of it.”

“Taggert took the Lieutenant exam a while ago,” Mac told them. “I propose creating a position in the MCU. Put him in charge of the squad and assign more officers. Right now, it’s just Vinnie Esposito and Jack Beaudry with Lucky Spencer and Dante Falconieri as rookies. I’d keep them, but I’d shift Taggert over there and I think Rodriguez should go as well. Organized Crime should be more focused, more narrowly defined. I can pull a replacement for Taggert from somewhere else to take over that unit.”

Floyd hesitated. “Just moving around resources. Promote the one officer who did good work, take responsibility from the other—and if we assign the rookie—Rodriguez— to Taggert, that’s fast-tracking him. We can play that up. We recognized his attributes. It’s what we want to encourage—”

“And I think Beaudry and Esposito need the oversight. Vinnie’s new—” Mac paused. “Well, sort of. He joined the force back in ‘95 but moved to Buffalo in 2000. He’s only been back since December. And Beaudry has his twenty years in. They’re both…” Mac shifted. “Less dedicated…than I would like. Taggert could do good work there, and I think he’s ready for the change.”

“Suggest it to him.” Floyd got to his feet. “Keep a closer eye on your officers, Mac. Or I’ll be making other changes. Regardless of what happened in the past.” He grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the chair and strode from the office.

Luckily, Scott didn’t pursue the final cryptic remark, and merely rolled his eyes. “Every public official in this town has made their careers running against organized crime,” he complained. “It’s how we get elected. We had one—okay, two if you count Alcazar—screw ups—”

“I really do think we need to adjust how we approach cases. It’s usually our way to blame Sonny and Jason for everything that goes wrong in Port Charles, but…” Mac shrugged. “They’re the best of a bad bunch, and when you think of the people who have vied for the territory over the last decade—it could be worse.”

“What? Are you suggesting we start ignoring them?” Scott demanded. “Look, I’m willing to grant we went too hard at them this last year—”

“I’m suggesting that we put Capelli on gambling and smuggling. That’s what I want him worried about. But someone is always going to want the waterfront, Scott. I live in the real world. The mafia is here to stay. Better the devils I know.” Mac shrugged. “I’m not saying we let it go—let’s just do a better job of picking our battles.” He was quiet for a moment. “What do you think about the case against Ric Lansing?”

“If the wife survives—rock solid.” Scott sighed. “But if she doesn’t…he’s going to blame it on her. He’s going to plead diminished capacity—he was just trying to help her—”

“Well, that’s bullshit—”

“I know that, but it’d be nice if she’d pull through, so she can tell him to go to hell.” Scott got to his feet, then snapped his fingers. “That’s what I wanted to tell you—I just got out of court when Floyd showed up. Ric got an arraignment earlier than I thought.”

“We…hadn’t prepared the new charges, yet—Damn it.”

“Which means he was eligible for bail.” Scott grimaced. “And the judge didn’t go for cash bail. Ric was able to post bond—and I saw him taking paperwork to the civil division to petition for control of Elizabeth’s power of attorney. Apparently, she started paperwork to give it to Morgan, but—I don’t have the details. Ric’s challenging it now—” He looked at his watch. “As we speak. I’m going to head over and see how it turns out. I want to warn Monica if it becomes necessary.”

“Damn it. If he gets control of her care—no judge is going to give him that, are they?” Mac got to his feet, alarmed.

“After this last week, I’m not going to predict what the hell is going to happen next.”

General Hospital: Carly’s Room

Bobbie stepped out of Carly’s room, and stopped Sonny from taking her place. She closed the door.  “I’m worried,” she murmured. “Carly…she’s not herself.”

“Bobbie, she just spent the week locked up in a small room—” Sonny shook his head. “How is she supposed to be acting—”

“She’s not herself,” Bobbie repeated. “I’ve seen Carly after traumatic events. After losing her child. In post-partum. I know how my daughter generally reacts. This is…this isn’t it.”

Sonny hesitated. “What do you mean?”

“She’s…Courtney was here, and she carried most of the conversation. Carly just stared at her. One word, maybe two-word answers. She just seems…not to be there. I’m not saying that she should be bouncing back. Not within twenty-four hours, but I’m a nurse, Sonny. I know what I’m talking about.”

Sonny rubbed the back of his neck. “You think…something’s wrong.”

“I think we should keep our eyes open. Being locked in a small space, trapped without a lot of light.” Bobbie squinted at him. “You know what I’m talking about, Sonny. Carly’s…showing some of the signs of acute stress disorder, and if that’s not treated, it can end up developing into post-traumatic stress disorder. We don’t want that.”

“Okay. So…we keep our eyes open.” Sonny passed her, put his hand on the door knob. “How’s Elizabeth?” He looked at his watch. “It’s…been hours.”

“Five,” Bobbie murmured. “Not too terribly long in the grand scheme of things. She’s…being monitored. There are some more blood clots in her lungs that Monica is keeping her eye on. We’ll probably be sending her back into the cath lab in a few hours. Monica just…she’s being cautious.”

“Courtney came back,” Sonny told Bobbie. “I think that I convinced her to go home, to leave Jason be, but she has this idea that…it’s over now, and maybe things will go back to how they were.”

“I highly doubt that.” Bobbie shrugged. “At least for Jason. I don’t know. I think he turned a corner this last week. Even if it’s not how Elizabeth feels—I hope Courtney has the decency to stay away until we know if Elizabeth is even going to—” Her voice faltered.

“It’s not like my sister doesn’t…have a point,” Sonny said slowly. “Or that she doesn’t have a right to hope…they were engaged. They might still be, for all I know. I’m not—I’m not judging Jason, Bobbie. I’ve always known how he felt about Elizabeth. It’s the reason I was against this from the beginning. Also, I don’t know if you noticed this—but my sister is an idiot.”

Bobbie laughed despite herself, clasping her hands in front of her mouth. “Yeah. Yeah, I noticed. Still, this isn’t the time for Courtney to figure out her love life. Elizabeth could go into cardiac arrest at any time, Sonny—and this time—”

“She might not make it. She’s tough, Bobbie. She pulled through when it was at five percent. What is she up to now? Thirty-five? She’s a survivor. Just like you and me.” He pulled his mother-in-law into a hug. “Don’t count her out yet.”

Luke’s: Bar

Dante frowned when he saw Cruz sitting at the bar, and Lucky behind it. “Hey…I thought you guys were both on tonight.” He took a seat next to Cruz, and Lucky brought him a beer. “What changed? Did you get the same call I did?”

“From Taggert? Yeah.” Cruz sighed. “And they told me I didn’t have to go in tonight since I went above and beyond today.” He grimaced. “Mac told me they want to give me an award. I didn’t even do anything.”

“Things hit the fan today, my friends,” Lucky told them. “I heard the Herald is going to chew out the entire PCPD tomorrow in a Sunday editorial. I’m surprised Mac still has a job—”

“I can’t believe Capelli still has a job,” Dante muttered. “Turning an innocent woman into a pawn. Everyone knows he went too far, but gotta cover your ass—I swear, the second I hear someone else is hiring, I’m out of here—”

“That would be a shame.” They looked over to see Taggert with tired eyes joining them at the bar. He sat on the other side of Cruz. “How about a gin and tonic, Spencer?”

Lucky mixed him the drink and set it in front of him. “What’s going on, Detective?”

“Apparently…” Taggert leaned over, away from Cruz, digging into his back pocket and drew out a badge. “It’s Lieutenant Taggert now. I took the exam a while ago, and they decided that the officer who didn’t feed Elizabeth to the wolves should get a promotion.” He stared at it for a long moment before exhaling. “You all did good work on the case.”

“I just sat in the car,” Dante said, shrugging. “Nothing to it.”

“You didn’t actively make the case worse, and in Port Charles, that’s enough to be good.” Taggert sipped his drink. “I’ve been reassigned to take over Major Crimes. You both work for me, now, and Cruz, they’re assigning you to me as your training officer. They want to fast-track you.”

Cruz grimaced. “Politics,” he muttered. He tossed back his tequila shot and Lucky wordlessly refilled it.

“Look, you guys have been here a week, and I think that’s probably long enough for you to see the department is rotting from the inside out. I’m sorry to say it but we don’t do the job here.” Taggert paused. “But things are going to change. I’m not working Organized Crime, and I’m glad. And I know—I don’t know you that well, Falconieri, but I’ve seen you work, Cruz. And Lucky…” He met the younger man’s eyes. “I arrested you once, so I know how quick you are. You got the makings of a good cop. I’d like to see you turn into something. All of you. I’d like you to do it here.”

“I just wanted to make a difference,” Cruz mumbled.  “I don’t think it can be done here.”

“After this case, I get that.” Taggert put a twenty down on the bar. “But I hope you give me a chance to do something better.”

General Hospital: ICU

Monica gestured for Jason and Nikolas to join her in the hallway. With some hesitation because Bobbie hadn’t returned from visiting Carly, they did so, though Jason positioned himself so he could see Elizabeth through the clear walls of the room.

“I just got a call from Scott Baldwin,” Monica said with some regret. “Ric made bail before they were able to charge him under the new indictment. They’re pulling that paperwork together, but they thought they had more time—”

“He’s out?” Nikolas demanded. “Security should keep him away—”

“I wish that were true.” Monica bit her lip, looked at Jason. “As soon as Ric posted bond, he had a lawyer file an injunction against you, demanding power of attorney be turned over to him. I guess Justus didn’t want to bother you with it.”

“He can’t do that—he has no standing,” Nikolas said. “Elizabeth has every right to choose who ever she wants—even if the paperwork was a year old, all it needed was Jason’s signature—”

“He won, didn’t he?” Jason said, cutting off Nikolas’s rant. “That’s why you’re here. To warn us that Ric is taking over her case.” He swallowed hard. “Monica—”

“Listen to me—I already called Alexis—”

“She thought this might happen. We met about it earlier,” Nikolas said. “She’s prepared to file—” He looked over as Justus stepped off the elevator, exhaustion lining his face as well. “That can’t be good.”

“I came as soon as we got out of court. I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you. It happened fast. I don’t know who he paid or what strings got pulled—” Justus grimaced. “I’m already filing an appeal—I called Alexis, Nikolas. She’s filing an amicus brief on behalf of the hospital. But—”

“The courts are closed. Even for emergencies.” Jason closed his eyes. “What can he do to screw up her recovery, Monica?”

“Well, I’m scheduled to take Elizabeth into the cath lab in another hour to break up more of the clots. I could try a less aggressive treatment, keep her on the medication. But—”

“We agreed that blood thinners would be riskier—that the risk of internal bleeding—” Jason shook his head. “And a clot—”

“But it’s an option Ric could allow, and no one is going to be able touch him on it,” Monica cut in. “I’ll do what I can to stress the better the option—but that’s something he could get away with. He could also try to transfer her to another hospital—”

“Where I don’t have any family and Nikolas doesn’t basically own it.”

Nikolas scowled. “Give me an hour and I’ll have controlling stock in any hospital he tries. This is complete bullshit, Justus. Elizabeth specifically—”

“Which is why when I get into court tomorrow morning, I’ll win. The hospital has documented her case, there’s report of the abuse, we have Carly’s statement—I don’t understand how he won, and if I hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“Can you take her into the lab now?” Jason asked, even though he already knew the answer. If it could have been done already—it would have been.

“I might not even be able to take her in an hour. I need her blood pressure to stabilize. She could code on the table and if she goes into arrest again, that’s it. That’s the ball game. It would be a miracle to get her back, and I think we’ve exhausted our share of them.”

“We have to wait.” Jason went back to the doorway, took in Elizabeth’s still figure beneath the white hospital blankets. “What was the judge’s reason?” he asked quietly. Because he knew there was more.

“What does it matter—” Nikolas began.

“It was a family court judge who tends to favor the father over the mother, and frowns on adultery in divorce cases,” Justus said. “He was on the court when I lived here a few years ago. I remember Dara complaining about him. He suggested that Elizabeth had been seduced by a gangster and wasn’t in her right mind last year—that you were taking advantage of her after the miscarriage. That the court had a responsibility to respect the sanctity of marriage.”

Jason would deal with the judge later for that but nodded. It was always better to know what he was up against. “That’s what Ric is going to use against her all the way. In the restraining order. The divorce. The trial. He’s going to use me like a weapon.”

“She’ll hate that.” Nikolas sighed. “I’m going to call Alexis, start finding out who I know in the appeals court and how to buy them.”

“I didn’t hear any of that,” Justus said evenly. “I’ll go to work on my brief. Jase…I’ll be in touch.” He put a hand on Jason’s shoulder, and then followed Nikolas to the bank of elevators.

“You should sit with her while you can,” Monica murmured. Her hand fluttered out as if she wanted to touch his arm, but it fell back to her side. “I’ll warn you when Ric is on his way. His first…he’ll probably bar you from the room.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know that.” Jason moved through the open door and resumed his seat at Elizabeth’s side. He took her pale hand between his larger ones. They’d removed her wedding and engagement rings for her procedures and never put them back on.

“It’s just for a few hours,” he told her. “I’m sorry. We thought we had protected ourselves, but—” He shook his head.  He should have called in favors, had Ric killed in lock-up. He’d thought about it, but it was too hot right now and the last thing he wanted was to be arrested and put in jail.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. He pushed tendrils of her hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ears. Her face remained smooth, untroubled, and he hoped that she wouldn’t wake up until they’d won their case and Ric was gone.

If it was the last thing he did in this world, he would make Ric Lansing sorry he’d ever been born and remove the stain of his existence from all their lives.

Oh days go by I’m hypnotized
I’m walking on a wire
I close my eyes and fly out of my mind
Into the fire
Oh light the sky and hold on tight
The world is burning down
She’s out there on her own and she’s alright
Sunny came home
– Sunny Came Home, Shawn Colvin

---

Saturday, June 28, 2003

Lansing Home: Living Room

Cody and Cruz stepped inside the house, both looking at each other hesitantly. The cop and the mob bodyguard. If Elizabeth had the energy, she might feel sorry for the rookie. It had been a hell of a first week for him. Cody eyed the younger man with an air of suspicion.  “Ah, Jason said you wanted us both?” he asked, with his brows raised.

“Yes.” Elizabeth looked at the officer. “Right now, you know I’m not the biggest fan of your department.”

Cruz looked away, unable to meet her eyes, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Miss Webber, to be brutally honest, what happened makes me physically ill. I’m sorry—”

“But I know you didn’t do it. So that’s why I’m asking for your help.” She pressed her hand to her chest, irritated at the ache and exhaustion creeping into her bones. She just had to hang in there a little longer. “Nikolas and Bobbie talked to the real estate who sold Ric the house. There’s a panic room.”

Cruz blinked, then straightened his shoulders. “A panic room?” he repeated. His eyes lifted to the ceiling, started to glance around the room. “They’re hidden within the structure, right? You can’t see them from the outside?”

“Exactly. The agent wouldn’t tell Nikolas where it was, so Jason went to…” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Convince him. We’ve had the house under surveillance for a week hoping Ric would give something away, but yesterday we put in cameras here in the living room. Sonny and some of his men are watching footage right now. Any minute, one of them are going to call and tell us where the panic room and how to get into it.”

Cody exhaled slowly. “Holy hell, you did it.”

Cruz squinted. “So…if you don’t trust the department—”

“You can call anyone you want after we find Carly,” Elizabeth told him. “But if we tell Taggert now, I don’t know what they’ll do with the information. I’m not convinced they don’t want Sonny and Jason more than they want to find Ric. It’s important to me that we find Carly first. Taggert might go after the agent who might clam up—”

“Telling the PCPD might cause more problems than it solves.” Cruz nodded. “Yeah, I get it.” With a weariness that no cop should feel after seven days on the job, he took a deep breath. “What can we do until they call?”

“Jason and I were looking for a switch or something that might tell us…” She gestured to the wall near the door. “We’ve searched that—” She stopped, her lungs seizing up as she struggled for breath. Oh, God. What was wrong? She gripped the back of the sofa and tried to take smaller breaths but struggled to force air down her throat.

“Miss Webber?” Cruz said stepping forward, Cody on his heels. “You don’t look so good—”

“It’s…It’s the withdrawal,” Elizabeth managed as the sensation passed. She could breathe now—at least get air into her lungs. “Um, from the benzos—Monica said it was going to be bad for the first two weeks.”

Cody hesitated. “You’re sure—”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, her teeth clenched. “I just have to get through it. It’s almost over. We’re—we’re going to find Carly—so—” Her cell phone rang—the little burner cell that sat on the coffee table. She stared at it wondering if she could make there in time before the ringing stopped.

Cody fetched it for her and handed it over.

“Hello?” Elizabeth said as the pounding in her chest began to echo in her ears. “Jason?”

“Sonny just called,” Jason said, his tone clipped. Short. Breathless. “They—they got it. Ric came into the living room at—the table against the wall, Elizabeth. The one near the stairs.”

Elizabeth turned. “The one with the cabinets underneath—”

“In the middle cabinet. Ric opened it, did something, and then—he disappears. I can’t tell but I think the panic room is across from the door—”

She stared at the wall, at the smooth expanse. “Right there. The whole time—” She stumbled towards the cabinet, but her legs gave out, and she fell against it. She tried to take a deep breath but couldn’t force the breath into her lungs. Oh, God. Not now. “Where are you?”

“Turning around, coming back—we’re all on our way—”

“I found a button—” Right there. Tucked in the corner by the door. She pressed it. Something whirled and groaned behind her, but it all felt so far away.

“Holy shit,” Cody murmured as Elizabeth turned her head—but they could already hear the screaming.

Carly’s voice, hoarse, raw came pouring out. “Press it, press it! Please—Thank God, thank God, you found me—”

But already Carly’s voice was receding. Her vision was dimming, fading at the edges. “J-Jason.”

“Elizabeth—I can hear her—” the relief was so evident in his voice, it was almost as if he was right in front of her. “I can—we did it—”

“You—I can’t b-breathe…” Elizabeth kept her eyes locked on Carly. Dimly, she could hear Cruz calling in for backup and an ambulance—he’d gone inside the room—but Cody was in front of her. Oh…he looked so concerned.

“Elizabeth?” Jason demanded. “Hey. Hey, are you there—”

“She’s okay,” Elizabeth murmured, but her words were slurring. “We did it.”

“Elizabeth, stay with me. Keep talking to me—”

“Can’t.” She closed her eyes, her wrist trembling with the effort to keep the phone at her ear. Cody was still talking but she couldn’t hear anything. “Always…liked your voice…”

Even as he called her name, the phone slid from her hand and the grays and blacks filled her vision until she couldn’t see anything.

Lansing Home: Street

Jason didn’t even know if he’d pulled the car into park or turned it off because he was shoving the door open and sprinting up the lawn. Near him, he was aware of other cars pulling up—of the sirens of an ambulance somewhere in the distance—

He registered Sonny’s voice, Bobbie’s cries—but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t take any of that in. He shoved through the door, all but taking it off the hinges.

A large gaping hole had opened directly in front of him, and oh, God—Carly—she was there, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She was sobbing, pointing down—the cop was next to her, holding her leg—

And Cody was behind the sofa, leaning over Elizabeth, who lay sprawled out over the hardwood floor, the phone still flipped open. Her eyes were closed, her skin almost gray.

Jason rushed forward, sliding to his knees at her side. Sonny and Bobbie rushed in, crying, screaming Carly’s name.

All of that disappeared as Jason cradled Elizabeth’s limp head in his hands. Her breathing was faint, and—he took her wrist—her pulse was barely there. “What happened?” he demanded. “What happened?”

“I—” Cody shook his head. “One second, she was explaining what we were going to be looking for—and then she couldn’t catch her breath. She managed to get the door open, but then she—She just passed out.”

Leaving Carly to her husband and mother, Cruz joined them, his eyes wild. “What’s going on? There’s an ambulance—” he started to say, but his voice had raised in pitch. The rookie was clearly out of his depth.

Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered and then she smiled, seeing Jason at her side. “You…you’re here…” but her words were still slurring, sliding into one another.

“Right here. I’m not going to leave again,” he told her, gripping her hand in his. “Stay with me, Elizabeth. Don’t close your eyes.”

“Can’t…” Her eyes fluttered. “Can’t stay.”

“Don’t you dare—”

“I found her. It’s okay.” She tried to squeeze his hand, but her grip was as weak as Michael’s had been when he’d been a newborn. Weaker, Jason realized, his heart pounding in his ears.

“You did it—”

Bobbie knelt, and Cody slid down out of her way. She took Elizabeth’s pulse, felt for her heartbeat and swore. “Her heart is racing—”

“How is that possible? Her pulse is barely—” Jason swallowed in fear. “What the hell did—”

“He drugged her…” Carly rasped as she limped towards them, Sonny holding her upright. “Drugs—”

“We know, with Valium, but—” Bobbie shook her head. “Elizabeth, hey, look at me, sweetheart.” Behind them, Nikolas hovered, worry in his dark eyes, and they could hear the ambulance coming closer.

“Elizabeth,” Bobbie said again. “Look at me—”

“Just want to go,” she murmured. Her eyes were unfocused and then…her eyes closed. “Want to go. Hurts.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Birth control,” Carly managed to get out as the ambulance screeched to a stop on a squeal of brakes. Cruz went outside to let them in. “He gave her birth control pills. Lots of it. He put it in the ice cubes. Every night. Every time she took a drink—”

Bobbie’s eyes bulged as she met Jason’s. “Birth control,” she breathed. “Jesus Christ. Rodriguez!” she cried. “Tell them to bring a defibrillator!”

“What?” Jason demanded. He tore his eyes away from Bobbie, then back to Elizabeth whose breathing had grown even more faint. “Elizabeth, hey, hey, please open your eyes. Let me see your eyes.” His voice broke. “They’re so beautiful. Let me see your eyes.”

She fought to open them. Her free hand came up and brushed his cheek. “Yours…like yours…. more…. sorry. Messed…it up.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Love…” And then her head slid to the other side, her hand dropped back to her side. Her chest stopped rising.

“Bobbie!” Nikolas shouted from the doorway, but then the paramedics were there. They came rushing in with a boxy object. Jason didn’t want to go, didn’t want to drop her hand—but he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t help her now.

He watched in horror as the paramedics looked at one another for a split second before exploding into action. One tore Elizabeth’s tank top, and the other slapped electrodes on her pale skin. Her tiny body jerked as they shocked her.

“Still in V-fib. Charge it again—”

“Clear—”

“Oh, God,” Carly choked as Bobbie leaned over Jason’s hunched form by Elizabeth. “Oh, God. He killed her.”

Another ambulance came to a stop outside, and more paramedics came in—each wheeling in a stretcher. One rolled towards Carly, and the other—

“Clear—”

And then they got her back—he knew it because the box wasn’t screaming anymore. Everything happened in a blur after that—Elizabeth was placed on the other stretcher and rolled towards the door. Jason followed without even thinking, without even looking at Carly.

Nikolas was clutching at his hair, both of his hands digging into the dark strands. “Jesus Christ. What was that? They—they got her back?”

The second set of paramedics were settling Carly onto the other stretcher, and the blonde was sobbing. “She was trying to save me, wasn’t she? She stayed, and he poisoned her every day because of me—”

“Carly—” Sonny’s soft words were lost as the stretcher wheeled towards the door, with him next to it.

“Pulmonary embolism,” Bobbie murmured as the room cleared. She looked at the trio left behind—at Cruz, Cody, and Nikolas, all of them shell-shocked. “Blood clot in the lungs. It’s a common…side effect of estrogen imbalance or overdose.”

“But you know what it is—” Nikolas took her arm. “They know—”

“Patients who have gone into cardiac arrest have a high mortality rate.” Bobbie pressed her hands to her face, trying to process. Trying to understand. “We thought it was just—I never dreamed—Oh, God, he’s killed her—”

“Stop it!” Nikolas shook her a little more roughly than he meant, as if trying to shake sense into them both. “They got her back. You know what it is. We have to go to the hospital. We have to tell Monica and make sure that Ric can’t make any decisions.”

“What?” Bobbie blinked at him. “What?”

“He is her husband,” Nikolas said. “And she’s his best chance to get out of this. If Elizabeth dies, all of this—this might go with her.”

“No.” Bobbie shook her head, even as everything inside her screamed of course he was right. Reasonable doubt was all Ric needed. He could blame everything on Elizabeth. “We—we have to go. We have to go.”

“I’ll stay,” Cody said to Cruz as the two of them rushed out. “You—you need someone to give a statement.” He touched the rookie’s shoulder. “You okay?”

“No.” Cruz shook his head slowly. “No, I’m not. Everything she went through today—she did it with that happening inside her—and now she might die.” He exhaled slowly. “I’m supposed to protect people.”

“Welcome to Port Charles,” Cody said with a smirk as the cavalry arrived with Taggert and Mac rushing up to the lawn, followed by several other uniforms.

General Hospital: Emergency Room

Monica was already waiting when the doors swung open. They’d lost Elizabeth again in the ambulance, and Jason could see from the paramedics that they didn’t expect her to make it.

That cardiac arrest with a pulmonary embolism was a lethal combination—that once the blood clot had gone to her heart, that survival was almost impossible.

Somewhere in Jason’s head, that made sense, but he couldn’t let himself even think it.

Elizabeth had, until her final moments of consciousness, been trying to find and free Carly because Carly was his best friend. Because she was a kind and giving person. And even though Jason damn well knew differently, the world wasn’t supposed to give up on people like her.

“Jason,” Monica started as Elizabeth was wheeled into a trauma room. “The paramedics on the scene suspect a pulmonary embolism.” She touched his arm. “We’re going to confirm with an echocardiogram—”

“Just do whatever—” His voice failed him, and he had to close his eyes. “Just do whatever you have to do,” he managed.

“They’re stabilizing her for the test now, but I need you to know that if it’s true, then—”

“Then her chances aren’t good—”

“They’re almost non-existent,” Monica told him, and he snapped to attention at that, because that was different. This was Monica, and she loved him. She wouldn’t say that without a reason. “Mortality rate is ninety-five percent, Jason. By the time the clot reaches the heart—”

Jason shook his head. “No. No—” His throat seized, and he just kept shaking his head. “No. She’s stronger than that—”

“Okay, okay.” She took his face in her hands and he met her eyes. “I’m going to do my very best,” she murmured. “I promise you.” She kissed his forehead, and then she disappeared behind the curtain.

Another stretcher came through the doors—Carly, followed by Bobbie and Sonny. Jason turned, looked at her, dragging his hands through his hair. He wanted to follow them, wanted to see Carly, to check on her, but his feet felt glued to the floor.

Sonny murmured something to Carly and Bobbie before they were whisked away behind another curtain. “Jase? What’s going—”

“Monica thinks it’s too late.” Jason swallowed. “The blood clot reached her heart, and she went into cardiac arrest twice—they’re, uh, confirming the diagnosis, but—” The room started to spin, and Jason sagged.

Sonny half dragged him to one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs and then knelt in front him. “Hey. No one fights like Elizabeth Webber. Jason—”

“I knew something was wrong. I kept asking her to go see Monica, to take care of herself, but she refused. We were so close, and I let her—I let put her life at risk, so I could find my friend—”

“And I can never ever repay Elizabeth for that.” Sonny shook his head. “They’re looking Carly over, but she’s in remarkably good health, they said. She’s okay. My child is okay. And I can’t imagine the universe would give her back to me and take Elizabeth.”

“You know it doesn’t work like that, Sonny—”

They both lunged to their feet as Elizabeth was rolled past them on a gurney, her eyes closed, her head lolling to one side. Jason started to follow, but Monica stopped him, nodding to another doctor, a younger man, tall with a shock of dark hair.

He sighed and stepped away from the team as Elizabeth disappeared around a corner.

“Where are you taking her?” Jason demanded.

“You’re the next of kin?” The doctor said with an arched brow. “They’re taking her to get an echocardiogram. It wasn’t the right set up in there, and then from there, they’ll probably take her straight to the cath lab to start thrombolysis.” He hesitated. “They got her stabilized, man. Her chances went up to about fifteen.”

“Fifteen?” Sonny demanded. “That’s supposed to make us feel better?”

“It was at five percent,” the doctor pointed out. “So…that’s not nothing. It might take a few hours. We’ll know more then.” He shrugged and disappeared down the same hallway as Elizabeth, jogging to keep up.

“That’s good.” Sonny patted Jason’s shoulder. “They’re giving her better odds.”

“Yeah, only an eighty-five percent chance she’ll die. Great.” Jason scrubbed his hands over his face. “Okay, okay, I need to see Carly. I’m sorry, I didn’t even—”

“She gets it.” Sonny managed a half smile. “More than you might think. C’mon.”

Jason followed him to Carly’s examining area where the blonde was laying back against the pillows, her eyes closed. There she was. After a week of desperation, fear—his best friend had emerged mostly unscathed.

“Carly,” he managed, taking her hand in his. “Hey. Hey. I’m sorry it took so long—”

“I saw you,” she said, without opening her eyes. “Every day. I saw you looking for me. I saw you today, searching the walls. I knew you were getting closer.” Her dark eyes found his. “I knew you never stopped. I knew you and Elizabeth wouldn’t stop until you found me.”

“We didn’t.” Jason’s throat tightened. “Thank you. We—we were able to help her faster because of you.”

“I wanted to stop your wedding,” Carly said with a faint smile. “That’s what I was thinking before Ric grabbed me. I knew you were miserable. That you didn’t love her. I was thinking about how angry you’d be, but I was gonna do it anyway.”

Bobbie laughed with some surprise while Sonny looked pleased as if this was a sign his wife had come through this traumatic experience without any scars.

Jason sighed, but he didn’t look upset “Carly—”

“I didn’t mean I wanted to get kidnapped,” she said dryly. “But, hey, I stopped it. And you—” Her eyes filled. “I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t make him stop trying to hurt with the pills…I tried to stop him from taking—they’re in the panic room. In a lock box. He’d get them every day, make new ice cube trays. In the middle of the night. I saw the Valium, too. He didn’t use that again. Not after last week. But he used something else, something to make her tired and sleep. And the birth control.”

Jason exhaled slowly. “You did help her. You told us—”

“He was hurting her today. I saw it. I was screaming, but I couldn’t make it stop. And then they arrested him, and I was so scared it would never be over—” She squeezed her eyes shut as Sonny came to her other side. “I was scared I would die in those walls.”

“I was going to start ripping holes in the drywall,” Bobbie promised. “I was never going to let that happen.”

“I know, Mama. But you came back today, Jason, and I saw you searching again, but this time—you were searching the walls. I knew it would be today. I knew you would find me.” She closed her eyes. “She can’t die. It’s not fair.”

“They took her for an echocardiogram,” Jason told Bobbie as silent tears slid down Carly’s face. “And then thrombolytic treatment. I don’t—I don’t know what that is.”

Bobbie took a deep breath and explained. “They’re going to inject thrombolytic drugs into the site of the blockage to thin her blood and break up the clots. Either through an IV or a catheter. Um, knowing Monica, and the seriousness of the condition, they’ll probably go with the catheter, so they can try to also physically break it up.”

“How—is it dangerous?” Sonny asked.

“Not normally, but Elizabeth has some risk factors. She was already in poor health after her miscarriage and overdose, and then two rounds of cardiac arrest. They’re going to be worried about internal bleeding, and there’s always a small chance the clot could go somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else?” Jason repeated. “Like where?”

“It could develop into an aneurysm,” Bobbie admitted. She rubbed the side of her face. “But those are minimal risks.” She hesitated. “Elizabeth might also be at risk for organ damage.”

“Jesus Christ.” Sonny hissed something else under his breath. “Well, you make it clear to this hospital that money is no object. She saved my family—she gets whatever she needs. The bills go to me. My psychotic brother—Did they charge him with this yet?”

“I—” Jason blinked when he saw Nikolas over Bobbie shoulder, gesturing towards him. “I’ll be right back.”

He joined Nikolas back in the emergency room. “Hey. She’s—”

“I pulled her file. One of the small perks of my family basically owning this place. I was worried about Ric being her next of kin, legally speaking, and I wanted to contact Alexis if the hospital needed to file an injunction—”

“I hadn’t even—” Jason closed his eyes. He couldn’t seem to think straight. That was what he did every day in his job, but he couldn’t keep a thought in his head right now. “I hadn’t thought about that—”

“We’ve got a small problem. Spouses are legally the default next of kin, but Justus filed a restraining order and notice of separation. Elizabeth apparently started paperwork last summer to establish a power of attorney with control over her medical decisions, but she never completed the paperwork.” Nikolas hesitated. “She named you with her grandmother as a backup. But she was supposed to get you to sign it.”

“Last summer?” Jason frowned, shook his head. “She never asked—” Except there’d been that day she had told him she needed to talk to him. After she’d come home from the hospital and the gas explosion, he’d come over to see her because she’d asked him.

She’d been terrified, holding a knife when he arrived, and they’d been distracted by buying the baseball bat for better protection. Then he’d left when Carly called.

“So, what happens? Does Ric get control?” Jason demanded. “What can I do? How do I stop it—”

“I’ve called Alexis and asked for her opinion,” Nikolas said. “She said for the moment, Ric isn’t available to make any decisions, so they’ll perform whatever the doctor on call says is medically necessary. She said it’s a stop gap measure. We can use her paperwork from last year—all that’s left is your signature. Ric can always challenge it because the marriage happened in the interim—”

“Give me the paperwork,” Jason said immediately. “I’ll call Justus and ask him to prepare for that.” He closed his eyes, trying to think. He didn’t know the next step. Didn’t know where to go next. “We should find out what’s going on with Ric—”

“I gave your guard my number and asked him to give me the updates on the scene. I figured you were—” Nikolas swallowed hard. “Distracted here.

“Did they charge Ric with this? Are they—”

“Scott was already writing the indictment for the assault, Taggert said.  They’re adding kidnapping and attempted murder charges—and anything else related.” Nikolas shook his head. “I knew she didn’t look well—we should have—I don’t know what we could have done. Elizabeth never did listen to anyone when she was sure she knew better.”

“Monica said her odds are at fifteen percent,” Jason managed. “It’s better than when she came in—”

“Monica’s the best in the state, if not the entire region,” Nikolas said after a long moment. “She knows what she’s doing. I’d trust her with my life.”

Jason looked down the hallway where Elizabeth had disappeared. “All we could think about was finding Carly. I knew she wasn’t okay, and I left her there—”

“With a body guard and a member of the PCPD.” Nikolas put a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Short of throwing her on the plane to Emily or to me in London, what else were you supposed to do?”

It was over an hour before Monica came back through the doors, her eyes were exhausted but not devastated. Jason and Nikolas had been joined by Bobbie as Sonny and Carly had been taken upstairs to a private room where she’d be kept a day or two for observation.

Taggert had arrived, followed by Scott, who Bobbie had grudgingly allowed to sit next to her. “Elizabeth suffered a blood clot in her lungs as well as in her heart—”

Bobbie muffled a gasp at this second part of the news as Monica continued. “We were able to break up the major clots and stabilize her for now.” She hesitated. “I am upgrading her condition from critical to serious. She’s not out of the woods, but her response to the treatment so far has increased her odds to around thirty percent.”

Jason felt some of the pressure in his chest finally release as Scott hugged Bobbie, and Taggert’s shoulders slumped. “Is she awake?” Jason asked.

At this, Monica hesitated. “Elizabeth suffered a great deal of trauma today,” she said after a long moment. “And the blood clot caused a lack of oxygen—”

“Monica—”

“She’s fallen into a coma,” Monica admitted. “This is not uncommon, and it’s not necessarily—” She saw the looks on their faces. “I don’t know when she’ll wake up. With the cardiac arrest—it could be hours, days—”

“Or never,” Jason said roughly. “She could survive the embolism, and still—” He closed his eyes. “She might never come back from this.”

“I don’t expect that, Jason. I really don’t. This is very common after what similar patients suffer. The body protects itself and I think that’s what is happening. We’ll move her to the ICU.” Monica touched his arm. “She made it this far, Jason. Give her some credit.”

“She’s tougher than she looks,” Jason said after a moment. He looked at his mother. “ICU usually restricts visitors to family, but—”

“Between Nikolas, myself, and your father,” Monica said with a brow, “I really doubt that’s going to be an issue. You’re now her power of attorney, Bobbie is the closest thing she has to a mother, and Nikolas was nearly her brother-in-law. That’s good enough for me. We’ll get her settled upstairs and you can see her then.”

We grew up way too fast
And now there’s nothing to believe
And reruns all become our history
A tired song keeps playing on a tired radio
And I won’t tell no one your name
And I won’t tell ’em your name
– Name, Goo Goo Dolls

---

Saturday, June 28, 2003

PCPD: Squad Room

When Elizabeth walked through the double doors of the squad room, Scott was leaning over Taggert’s desk, making notes on a police report. He straightened, cleared his throat, and smoothed his hand down his tie. “Elizabeth—Ah, Mrs. Lansing—”

She stopped, Bobbie and Jason just behind her. Her eyes were red and puffy, and some eyeliner was smudged under her eyes. He could see scratches and dark marks on her arms left bare by the red tank top she wore. “I never changed my name,” Elizabeth said without any emotion.

“Ah—”

“Scott,” Bobbie interrupted him as she stepped in front of Elizabeth and jabbed her ex-lover in the chest with her index finger. “I don’t even know where to start with the level of incompetence and outright negligence that I have witnessed—my daughter is missing, and your officers have spent the last week chasing ghosts and gossip—”

“Bobbie—” Scott put his hands on her shoulders. “I’ve already taken the steps to reprimand the officer who leaked the details of this investigation. Mac has put him on suspension—”

“You think that’s enough?” Bobbie demanded, shaking his hands off.

“No,” Scott said honestly. “In fact, Mac and I were just preparing a report to charge the officer with insubordination. He violated direct orders when he leaked that information.”

“Bobbie, Elizabeth—” Mac rose from the desk. “I can’t begin to express our apologies—”

“No, you can’t,” Elizabeth said dully. “So, can I make my statement and sign it? I have to file for an order of protection before Ric makes bail—”

“Oh, he’s not making bail anytime soon,” Scott said darkly. “He can’t be arraigned for another six or seven hours, and I’m asking for a full cash bail.”

“He’ll have trouble getting out if no one brings any cash,” Mac added. “At least until Monday when the bail bonds offices open.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Okay. Let’s just get this over with.”

She followed Taggert into the interrogation room while Bobbie and Jason went to the waiting area. Scott turned his attention to the officer who had joined. “Officer Rodriguez, you were first on scene.”

The rookie blinked at him, then cleared his throat. “Yeah. I—” He ran his hand back and forth through his short dark hair. “Um. I got a call over dispatch that Detective Taggert was on his way to pick Ric up for questioning but that he wanted me to do a welfare check. I was walking towards the house when—I guess it’s a bodyguard, I don’t know—he got out of his car. He was on the phone—I thought I heard something break inside. The next thing I know, the guard was running towards me—I was already at the door, pounding on it—we broke through when we heard screaming—”

He closed his eyes, swallowed. “Um, Miss Webber was—she was near the door, Mr. Lansing behind the sofa—she had a baseball bat and a phone in her hand.”

“She had a bat? Did it look she’d used it?”

“No—she—he was on the other side of the room—I think she’d just gotten to it. I don’t know. He doesn’t have any marks like that. Not like—”

“And she didn’t give a statement at the scene?”

“Not about what happened. Only that he got angry and put his hands on her when he saw the paper. She, ah, accused him of drugging her for months. Apparently, there are medical records that confirm an overdose last week—”

“Jesus Christ.” Scott sank into Taggert’s empty desk chair. “Months,” he repeated. “There are—she can prove it?”

“I guess.” Cruz looked at Mac. “Did we really—I mean—the PCPD—we told the tabloids she was having an affair?”

“It was—it was a mistake,” Mac said faintly. “And not done in the way I instructed it—”

“I don’t—” Cruz shook his head. “Um. I need to—” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m due for a lunch break.”

“Yeah.” Mac waved him away and the rookie quickly disappeared. “He’s been drugging her for months,” he told Scott. “And we not only didn’t arrest him when we suspected him of doing it last week—but put her in danger by leaking a probably false rumor to the papers.”

“What’s this we shit?” Scott muttered, but he bowed his head anyway.

PCPD: Interrogation Room

“Are you going to ask me about an affair?” Elizabeth asked with a sigh once she and Taggert were seated.

“What?” Taggert shook his head. “No. I don’t give a shit about that, Elizabeth—pardon my French. I—” He swallowed. Tapped his pencil against his notepad. “I know what you’ve been doing this week. I know you and Morgan have been searching for Carly as hard as I have been. I had no idea that Cap—that anyone in this office thought differently. As soon I as saw that paper—I came to check on you—”

Elizabeth looked down at her arms, at the burgeoning bruise. “If I press—I mean, if this went to court—someone else would ask, wouldn’t they?”

“Probably,” Taggert said after a moment. “But—”

“We’re not—I mean, we’re not having an affair. Not the way the papers say. Jason was engaged until—until I guess yesterday,” she murmured. “But you know we have a history.”

“I do—”

“I just—I wanted to make it clear. Jason was just—he was searching the house. And we’ve been—it’s been a stressful week. And I guess—I don’t—people respond to stress in—” She slid her fingertips lightly over the scratches on her arms left by the scrape of Ric’s nails as he’d grabbed for her. “Emotions ran high. But we never slept together.”

“Okay.” Taggert dipped his head trying to catch her eye. “Even if you were doing what the paper said, he had no right to touch you. To do anything you—can you tell me about the drugs? Can you tell me what’s happened?”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth met his eyes and started her statement.

PCPD: Locker Room

Dante and Lucky were changing for their shift when Cruz came through the doors. He sat down in front of his locker and just stared at it.

The two rookies exchanged looks, got up, and sat on either side of their friend. “I thought you were on guard duty today,” Dante said, touching Cruz’s shoulder.

“I was. Until the paper came out and Ric Lansing went after his wife.” Cruz swallowed hard. “Capelli told the Sun Jason Morgan has been in the house every day for hours, and they printed accusations of an affair—”

“Went after?” Lucky repeated, lunging to his feet. “What the hell are you—is she okay?”

“She—he left some bruises—she got away, got her hands on a bat. I was right there, and I guess she was able to call the guy Morgan has watching her—but—” Cruz looked straight ahead. “Capelli put her in danger. This department did that. We’ve all read the same reports—we knew what was going on. What Lansing was suspected of doing and—Capelli didn’t care. He did it anyway.”

Dante sighed, returned to his locker, and drew out his uniform shirt. “I’ve been on the job for a week, and it makes me sick to go to work. The only time I feel like I’m doing any good are the shifts I watch the Lansing house. Because I know I’m there to look out for the wife and to help find a missing woman.”

“I—” Lucky leaned against the bank of lockers. “I know. When I’m not pulling those shifts—I’m watching your cousin be completely lazy and—worse, he’s an asshole. We caught a sexual assault case earlier this week, and he—” He swallowed hard. “He treated the victim like trash. I thought about going to Mac, but he’s my superior officer and I’ve been on the job for a week.”

“This just isn’t what I thought I was going to do here,” Cruz said after a moment. “Capelli wanted Morgan to go after Lansing. I knew that. I knew he was hoping to scoop them all up. Taggert’s doing what he can, but he’s blinded by them, too. And Carly’s still missing. They have no idea where she is.”

He drew in a deep breath. “I think maybe I should start looking for another station—another city. Maybe Buffalo—or shit, anywhere but here. I feel like every day I’m here, I’m becoming someone else.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’m going to last the year,” Dante admitted. “This city—this department—it’s the reason people hate cops.”

PCPD: Waiting Area

Bobbie frowned down at her watch. “Nikolas’s plane is landing soon—” She sighed, rubbed her eyes. “What are we going to do next, Jason?”

“You’re going to pick him up,” Jason said. “I’ll take Elizabeth back to the Towers, and we’ll figure out the next step—” He hesitated. “I want to check on Sonny, Justus is going to meet us there, and I don’t want her to be alone. Not now. I know Baldwin says they’re going to keep Ric until tomorrow, but—”

“I can’t believe any of this.” Bobbie closed her eyes. “I can’t believe we still don’t have any idea what Ric has done with Carly, and I’m having trouble believing that we’re going to find her alive—”

“Hey.” Jason put an arm around her shoulders. “I—I know it’s hard, but I can’t let myself picture anything else.” He swallowed hard. “We’ll…cross that bridge if we have to, but—”

The back door to in the interrogation room opened and Taggert stepped out in front of Elizabeth. “I’ll let you know when we have an arraignment hearing,” he told her. “If he makes bail, I’ll warn you.” He looked at Jason and Bobbie. “I know you’re pissed at the department right now—”

“That is an understatement,” Bobbie retorted.

“And I know I shouldn’t admit liability, but what happened was a goddamn—” Taggert stopped. Shook his head. “We’re still looking for Carly, Bobbie. I’d like to search the house again, Elizabeth. I know we’ve been through it, I know you and Morgan have been through it, but—”

“Go ahead,” Elizabeth said, folding her arms across her chest. “I think Jason is taking me to a lawyer to start the TRO, right?”

“Yeah. Justus is going to meet us, and Bobbie is picking Nikolas up at the airport.”

“Even though Ric is out of the house, I’ll still keep an officer out front.” Taggert hesitated. “If that’s okay.”

“That’s fine.” Elizabeth sighed. “I just want to get out of here.” She crossed to Bobbie and Jason and they started for the doors.

“Morgan, you get any leads on Carly, you let me know,” Taggert told him. “I—I need to try to make this right.”

“You can’t,” Jason said flatly and left.

Harborview Towers: Hallway

 Elizabeth and Jason stepped off the elevator, and he touched her elbow. “Justus is waiting at my place,” he told her. “With everything you need. I need to check on Sonny.”

“Right.” Elizabeth rubbed the back of her neck. “Okay. And then…we’re going to meet with Nikolas and figure out something.” Her mouth lifted in a half smile. “Maybe Taggert’s search will find something we missed. Fresh eyes, right? That’s what we’re hoping for.”

“I don’t care who finds Carly, as long as someone does.” Jason’s fingers tightened slightly at her elbow. “I wish you’d…reconsider going to the hospital. Can I call Monica? Ask her to come—”

“I told you,” Elizabeth said, but her tone was gentle. She pressed her hand against his chest, her eyes on his. “Monica gave me a rundown of what I’d be going through for a while. I’ve been irritable, tired, dizzy, nauseous—but I’m halfway through. I can’t think of any way he could have drugged me at all since Saturday. I haven’t eaten or drank anything at the house except water from the tap.”

“I know, but…” Jason shook his head. He covered her hand with his. “I’m just worried.”

“Tell you what—if after we talk to Nikolas, we don’t have anything new to look at—we’ll call Monica. I’ll let her do whatever she wants.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I don’t want to be someone you worry about.” She broke eye contact. “I mean—I don’t want you to think of someone else you have to take care of—”

“I don’t want you hurt. And I’m sorry,” Jason’s voice lowered a bit as he tipped her chin up so their eyes met again. “But I care about you. And I’m not going to pretend that I don’t. Not anymore.”

“We’ll call Monica if we don’t figure out the next step,” Elizabeth said after a moment as warmth spread through her. “But right now, you need to check on Sonny, and I need to get Ric out of my life.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Guest Bedroom

Sonny was propped up in his bed, clad in a pair of black silk pajamas, his eyes clearer than they had been the day before.

At his side, Max was cleaning up a lunch tray and quietly nodded to Jason as they passed one another.

“You drugged me,” Sonny said simply as Jason stood in front of him. “I woke up about an hour ago with no idea what’s—” He hesitated. “The last thing I remember is yelling at my sister. Max said it’s Saturday…I lost…I lost almost six days.”

“Yeah.” Jason sat on the edge of the bed. “You were talking to Lily.”

Sonny closed his eyes. “I’m useless, aren’t I? I had one job. Keep the police out of our hair so you could find Carly, and you’ve had to deal with everything—”

“You got the ball rolling—Justus pushed off the warrants—there’s a hearing next week, but we’re going to be fine.” Jason scrubbed his hands over his face. “But I think Baldwin is going to cancel the hearing anyway. He’s…the PCPD is going to be lucky to survive this investigation without Mac or Scott losing their jobs.”

Sonny frowned. Sat up more firmly. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“It’s not about Carly. We don’t have—we don’t know where the hell she is, where Ric has her. But the—someone in the PCPD told the tabloids that I’ve been at the house every day and they did this cover story about Elizabeth and me—” Jason grimaced again. “Accusing us—Ric went after her.”

“Is—” Sonny shoved the blankets aside and hauled himself out of bed. “She’s okay, or you wouldn’t be here—did you—”

“Taggert wasn’t part of it. He saw the story and was already on his way to the house. She got herself away from him—got to the phone, called Cody—we all kind of got there at once. Ric’s been arrested—Elizabeth isn’t going to have to lie to him anymore—”

“Well, I guess that’s something,” Sonny murmured. He rubbed his chest. “Where is she? Is she okay—did he hurt her? I mean—”

“She’s—managing. She’s at my place meeting with Justus.” Jason hesitated. “Bobbie called in Nikolas Cassadine. He was the only person she could think of that might…be able to…I don’t know…we just needed someone else. Someone who hasn’t been living with this for a week. I, ah, sent Michael to the island with Courtney yesterday.”

Sonny eyed him for a long moment, then nodded. “Let me get dressed. I’ll be over, and we’ll see if we can’t do something. I need…I need to do something. I need to help, Jason. I think leaving the search to you is what drove me the over edge. I have to feel like I’m doing something to protect Carly.”

Jason nodded. “I’ll see you over there.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Justus was sliding a folder into his briefcase and closing it when Jason opened the door. Elizabeth looked worn out—as if she’d been up for days. Jason wasn’t satisfied with waiting to call Monica—he had to convince her to talk to someone first.

“Hey, is Sonny okay?” Elizabeth got to her feet. She closed her eyes, swayed just a little, and put her hand on the arm of the sofa to steady herself.

“He’s on his way over. He’s a lot better.” Jason looked at Justus. “Do you think they’ll give her the TRO?”

“I’m on my way to file it,” Justus said. He glanced at Elizabeth who sighed.

“And he’s filing a notice of legal separation. I wanted him to start divorce proceedings,” Elizabeth said. “But Justus thinks I should find someone who specializes in family law.” She folded arms. “I really just want it over with.”

“I think you’ve got a good case for an annulment,” Justus told her. “And since you don’t want anything—you might be happier in the long run without a divorce on your record.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll talk over my options after we find Carly.”

“I’d better go file these so that the order can go into effect before Ric gets released. Call me if you need anything, Jase.” Justus touched his shoulder as he passed him, then left.

“You okay?”

“Aren’t you tired of asking me that yet?” Elizabeth asked dully. She sat back down, put a hand to her head. “Um…could I have some water? I haven’t—” She swallowed hard. “I didn’t really get a chance to eat anything this morning, and I need some aspirin.”

“You should eat something,” Jason said. “Let me—”

“We can grab something on the way to the house—”

“Stop being so damn stubborn,” he cut in, throwing his hands in the air. “You look like you’re about to pass out, Elizabeth—”

“Have you eaten today?” she demanded. Her face flushed, she got to her feet—too quickly—because she stumbled and nearly pitched forward over the coffee table. Jason caught her, wrapping his arms around her waist and putting her back on her feet.

He didn’t release her right away, and she let her head fall back against his chest, slumping slightly. “You’re not taking care of yourself either,” she murmured. “We’re both pushing too hard.” His hands were splayed against her abdomen, and she covered them with her own. “You, me—Sonny, Bobbie.” She turned, sliding her hands up his chest. “Did you eat today? Yesterday?”

“I—” Jason hesitated. Shook his head. “I can’t really remember.”

“Okay.” She nodded and then pulled away from him. She walked across to the penthouse door, opened it. At Jason’s door, Cody was there along with Milo. “Hey. I haven’t eaten—and I know Bobbie hasn’t. I’m afraid it might take too long for delivery, but—”

“I’ll go get some things from Kelly’s,” Cody said, as if eager to for way to help. “Some sandwiches. I’ll go right now.” He hesitated. “Don’t go back to the house without me.”

“Thanks, Cody.” She started to close the door but then Sonny rounded the corner from his penthouse. “Hey.” She stepped forward, embraced him. “How are you doing?”

“Surviving,” Sonny said. He hugged her back, and they both went into the penthouse, closing the door behind him.  “How about you?”

“I think surviving is a strong word,” Elizabeth sighed. She sat back on the sofa and took the water Jason had gotten for her while she was at the door. He also handed her a bottle of Tylenol. “Thanks.”

“We’re waiting on Nikolas and Bobbie?” Sonny said. “We really don’t—” He grimaced. “No leads?”

“Just the house,” Elizabeth started to say, but Milo knocked on the door, then opened it. Bobbie stepped through, followed by Nikolas Cassadine.

Nikolas looked a bit hesitant, no doubt because she and Nikolas hadn’t really been close for a long time—and of course, Nikolas had never been a big fan of Sonny and Jason.

“Nikolas. Hey.” Elizabeth started to get up again, but he waved at her to remain seated.

“Bobbie said you’ve been ill, so don’t get up for me—” He flicked his eyes to Sonny, then Jason, before looking back to Elizabeth. “Apparently, you need some insight into crazy lunatics, and God knows, my family has them in spades.”

“I was just about to tell Sonny what we’ve been doing,” Jason said. He sat on the sofa, next to Elizabeth, which made Nikolas tilt his head slightly, but he said nothing.

Sonny dragged out the desk chair, Bobbie sat in the arm chair, and Nikolas remained standing. Quickly, Jason told him what had gone on during the last week.

“So, you’re convinced the house has to have some sort of role to play,” Nikolas said. “Because Faith Roscoe said Ric was obsessed with the right kind of house?”

“The timeline, too,” Elizabeth said. She turned, tucking a leg underneath her body. “I came home last Friday around six, and I think—” She bit her lip. “No, I know—Ric had poured me a glass of champagne. I drank it, and I don’t really remember anything after that until I woke up. It was just…just seven. I remember looking at a clock upstairs.”

“Carly went missing about fifteen minutes before seven,” Jason said. “He wouldn’t have had time to take her anywhere else.”

“I called around then,” Nikolas said, squinting his eyes. “I had spoken to Bobbie earlier—just before five, I think. You hadn’t left for the church yet,” he told Bobbie. “And you gave me the number. No one answered.”

“I think that’s because I was passed out and Ric was gone.” She looked at Jason. “You were going to check the time of that call—”

“Six fifty,” Jason said. “Ric wasn’t there.”

“The timing seems too tight,” Nikolas agreed. “I agree with you on that. As someone who has…” He coughed. “A bit of experience with moving people around who are not…”

“He means when I faked my death and he had to move my body so that Sonny could arrange to pick me up and get me to safety,” Elizabeth said dryly. “It’s time consuming.”

“It took forever,” Nikolas agreed. “And you weren’t six months pregnant.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But the PCPD searched that night.”

“And Jason and I searched that house a thousand times. We’ve put cameras in Ric’s bedroom, in his study—on the stairs—” Elizabeth shook his head. “A GPS on his car—Jason’s had people following him, I’m sure the cops have. The PCPD has been outside the house since that night. There’s no way Ric brought her to the house and then moved her.”

“So, she’s either in the house or she was never there.” Nikolas pursed his lips. “Have you spoken to the real estate agent who sold the house?”

Jason blinked, and Elizabeth stared at Nikolas for a long time. How…Jason closed his eyes. “The real estate agent would know what Ric was looking for,” he muttered, irritated with himself

“Seems to me there’s a hidden room in the house,” Nikolas continued. “One of those…” He gestured with his hand. “Panic rooms. We have three of them at Wyndemere. Uncle put them in after the first time Grandmother…descended upon us. One in each wing. They’re hidden with the structure of the house—tucked in some dead space or something. Usually a remote to open them or a button somewhere. They’re supposed to be for safety—a phone line, supplies. Sometimes there are cameras.”

Jason pressed his lips together and scowled. Of course.

“Why didn’t we think of that?” Elizabeth demanded of him. “Of course—”

“Neither of you have slept or eaten the way you should have,” Bobbie muttered. “And I guess—of course—”

“Fresh eyes,” Nikolas said easily. “And my family is certifiably insane. It’s easier for me to find the crazy.” He nodded. “So, what do we do—”

“Wait, wouldn’t you have seen a hidden room on the security footage?” Sonny demanded. “You’ve had cameras in place since Sunday—”

“Not in the living room.” Jason said. “We just put those in yesterday, and Stan and Spinelli have hours of footage to go through. They’re also doing other tech stuff—background on Ric, financial records, trying to stay ahead of the cops—” He shook his head. “And the living room makes sense—”

“Because that first night, Ric sent me upstairs. He wanted me to take a shower. He was irritated—he said I was done faster than he thought—” Elizabeth rubbed her mouth. “He came upstairs just after I—you said there are cameras?”

“So, he could monitor where you were,” Nikolas said. “Probably a camera out front.”

Bobbie got to her feet. “Well, we’ll just tear the damn house apart,” she said, starting for the door. Sonny reached out, stopped her. “What?”

“Let’s approach this carefully, Bobbie—”

“Carefully? Carly’s been in a goddamn panic room for over a week, and Ric hasn’t been in there today to bring her food—”

“Jason and I have searched every inch of that house, Bobbie. I never saw anything that looked like it might be a button.” Elizabeth got to her feet, and Jason followed suit, bracing a hand at the small of her back when she swayed slightly.

“I think that Bobbie and I should meet with the real estate agent,” Nikolas suggested. “We can hopefully confirm the existence of the room and even get its location.” He nodded at Sonny. “I think you may want to go where this security footage is.”

Sonny narrowed his eyes almost as if he wanted to question how the hell Nikolas had ended up in charge—but honestly—no one in the room could argue. Within ten minutes of his arrival, Nikolas had given all of them a sense of hope. He was the only one who could claim to be well-rested and clear-headed.

He hadn’t been living in hell for the last eight days.

“We can go back to the house,” Elizabeth told Jason. “We can start looking for any empty space and someone should be there if anyone gets a location. The sooner the better.”

“We’re going to eat first,” Jason said firmly. He looked at Bobbie who opened her mouth to argue. “Bobbie, you were here this morning—we’ve been at the station all day—and Elizabeth is going to fall over. The only way she’ll eat is if we eat, too.”

Bobbie sighed, but Cody opened the door then. He handed them the takeout bags, and Bobbie quickly distributed the food. “You can stay here,” she said, a container in her hands. “But I’ll eat on the go.”

“We can eat at the house,” Elizabeth said, and this time, Jason didn’t argue. They all felt so close to finding Carly—a sense of optimism that they hadn’t felt since the day she’d gone missing.

Today was the day.

Lansing Home: Living Room

Elizabeth had managed to eat a few bites of the burger Cody had brought, and Jason had to settle for that—she’d also watched him like a hawk to make sure he ate as well.

Finally, he agreed to start searching.

“I was hoping Nikolas would have called already,” Elizabeth murmured as they started with the wall against the door. Jason was looking under the desk and umbrella stand while Elizabeth ran her fingers over the door frame. “He can be charming when he wants to be.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of the real estate agent,” Jason muttered. “We’ve been saying all along the house was the key—”

“Because we thought Ric had some sort of paperwork or clue here,” Elizabeth argued. She scowled as she moved onto the bookcase. “Not that the house itself was important. You said Faith Roscoe told you that yesterday.”

“Last night really,” Jason admitted. He hesitated. “She was working with Ned and Ric.”

“The whole time?” Elizabeth stopped, looked at him. “Since—since November?” She sighed, looked back at the bookcase, sliding her fingers behind it. She knelt and felt along the baseboards. “They were sleeping together, weren’t they?”

“Yes. At some point. I don’t know when or if it stopped.”

He watched her carefully. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“I guess not. She…always gave me the creeps. She was always around, you know? And…she came by the hospital after I fell.” Elizabeth looked up. Met his eyes. “She pushed me, didn’t she? Because I was pregnant, and Ric had married me.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Yeah, I kind of figured.” Elizabeth stood and moved to the other side of the bookcase, momentarily slipping out of view. “Well, she can have him.”

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore,” Jason said before he could think it through. Elizabeth stepped back and looked him, tilting her head. “Ever.”

She bit her lip. “Did—Did she help Ric with Carly?”

“No. Carly wasn’t part of the plan. Ned told me Ric stopped returning phone calls around the time everything happened at Martha’s Vineyard. He didn’t know Ric was Sonny’s…” Jason shook his head. “She wouldn’t have helped him.”

“No, I guess not.” Elizabeth licked her lips and squinted a bit, almost as if she wanted to ask but didn’t. “Okay. I don’t have to worry about her. One less thing.”

She returned her attention to the wall that ran towards the stairwell, sighing. “I know there has to be something here.” When she knelt again to feel along the baseboards on that side, she slipped and fell against the wall. “Damn it. I can’t keep my head—” She pressed her hand to her head. “Is the air conditioner on? Did we turn it off?”

Jason strode over to her and helped her to her feet. He guided her over to the sofa. “You feel warm,” he murmured, pressing the back of his hand to her cheeks. “Is that one of the side effects Monica mentioned?”

“I don’t really remember,” she admitted. “There was a huge list, and I—she wanted to give me pamphlets, but I didn’t—”

“Want Ric to see them,” Jason muttered. He pulled out his phone. “I’m calling Monica.”

“Jason—” Elizabeth put a hand over his to stop him from dialing. “She said all they could do is give me more pills to deal with those symptoms, and I don’t want them. I don’t want any pills—” She bit off her irritation. “I get that you’re worried, but this is my life, and I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“Someone has to—”

“Oh, and that’s you?” Elizabeth jerked to her feet and slapped his hands away when he tried to steady her. “It’s been more than six months, Jason, since you gave a damn. I know you feel guilty Ric went after me because of you, but I can take care of myself. I’m doing fine—”

“I never stopped—” Jason stood, irritated. “You’re the one who left me.”

“Because you lied!” She threw her hands up in the air, clenched her jaw. “And don’t act like you spent a lot of time missing me. You were screwing Courtney by Christmas—” She stopped, closed her eyes, and put her hands up. “I am not doing this. I am not someone you need to save, Jason. I got myself into this mess, I’m going to get myself out of it—”

Jason swallowed. “I can explain about Courtney,” he said, even though he didn’t know what he’d even say. “It wasn’t—it wasn’t what you think—”

“You mean you didn’t fall in love with her when you were with her all the time?” Elizabeth arched her brows with a smirk. “Because you know, Jason, I don’t know what I’m supposed to think. You were either guarding Brenda—who you married—or Courtney—who you almost married. But me—I’m the one who got kidnapped and shot at—you ignored me for weeks and let me think your best friend was dead. So please—tell me what you think I think happened.”

He hesitated. “When you say it like that, it sounds bad,” he admitted. It sounded…terrible. Calculating. “And maybe I can’t explain it.”

“It doesn’t matter. Not right now.” She pressed her hands to her eyes. “We’re not going to re-litigate this. We already agreed we hurt each other a lot last summer. Between Zander and Courtney, I don’t think either one of us has any room to talk. It’s—it’s over. It happened. I know you care about me. I care about you. Let’s just—we’ll find Carly and—” She sighed and looked at him. “I can’t think about what happens after that, Jason. I really can’t.”

“Elizabeth—” His phone rang, and he yanked it out. “Yeah?”

“Jason, we’ve found the real estate agent,” Bobbie sighed. “He confirmed that Ric wanted a house with a panic room, but he refuses to tell us where. Nikolas thought you might…come and …”

“Threaten him?” Jason supplied.

“Yeah.”

“Give me the address, we’ll be right there.” When she did so, he slid the phone back in his pocket. “Nikolas needs me to threaten the real estate agent. There’s a panic room—but he won’t tell us.”

“Then you have to go. I’ll stay here,” Elizabeth said. When Jason opened his mouth, she lifted her chin in that stubborn expression he hated. “We agreed. Someone had to be here if we got the location. Sonny could call, too. The faster we find Carly, the sooner this is over.”

“I—” Jason shook his head. “I don’t want you alone—” He grimaced. “It’s not that I—”

“I don’t want to be alone either,” Elizabeth said. “So, you can tell Cody to come in and keep me company, and hell, let the cop in. I saw him at the curb when we got here. They can help me keep looking.” When he still didn’t look convinced, she sighed and cross the room to him. She put her hands on either side of his face. “Carly comes first. We both agreed. And…now we know. There’s a panic room in this house. I am not going to let her be alone. If there are cameras, then she has watched us search for her for days. I’m not leaving her.”

“I—” Jason wrapped his hands around hers and brought her fingertips to his mouth, kissing them gently. “Okay. I know you’re right. I just—the last time I let you out of my sight—”

“I get it.” She stood on the tips of her toes and brushed her lips against his. “Go find out where this panic room so we can bring Carly home.”

He sighed and kissed her again. “I don’t care what happened last year,” he told her. “I care about now.”

“We’ll figure it out,” she promised. He finally released her hands and started for the door. “You scare the crap out of that guy and call me. I want to be able to give you the phone and let you talk to Carly. Got it? And send in my…” She wiggled her hand. “My entourage, I guess. Might as well put them to work.”

He opened the door. “We’re going to find her today,” he told her. “This is the first time I’ve actually felt like that was true.”

Being me can only mean
Feeling scared to breathe
If you leave me then I’ll be afraid of everything
That makes me anxious, gives me patience, calms me down
Lets me face this, let me sleep, and when I wake up
Let me breathe
– Afraid, The Neighborhood

---

Saturday, June 28, 2003

PCPD: Squad Room

“I am going to have someone fired today!”

Scott Baldwin’s voice boomed through the room even before he crashed through the double doors, waving a copy of the Port Charles Sun in his hand. “Which one of you fucking assholes did this?”

He threw the paper in the direction of the Organized Crime Unit—the set of desks where Capelli and Taggert sat. Taggert scowled as he caught it—the headline screaming FEMME FATALE over a trio of single photos—Elizabeth with Ric and Jason on either side…and in much smaller print on the lower third of the cover it proclaimed LANSING SUSPECT IN MOB KIDNAPPING.

He closed his eyes, crumbling it slightly. It was worse than he’d thought it might be—

“I tried to get the story killed yesterday—I’ve been on the phone with every reporter I know—” Taggert threw a scathing glance at his partner. “How much did you leak?”

“What makes you think I did this?” Capelli asked, even as he smirked. He took the paper from Taggert and opened to the article. “Hmm…they were definitely resourceful…” He held the center spread out. “How do you think they got this picture?”

Taggert glared at a photograph from the warehouse fire in 2001—someone must have snapped it just as Morgan and Corinthos had escaped—and later realized  Elizabeth was in the frame, a bouquet of white roses at her feet. There was another photo of Elizabeth at her grandmother’s funeral with Ric at her side.

“You are—” Scott jabbed a finger at him. “Do you have any idea what kind of lawsuit you just opened us up to? You just—” He shook his head, so angry he couldn’t speak. “Mac? Where the hell are you?”

“What are you so pissed about?” Capelli said with a shrug. “We needed to shake something loose on this case. If Lansing kidnapped Carly for her kid, he’s going to make a mistake now—”

“A mistake that might end up—” Scott almost reached for his neck but drew his hands back at the last minute. “I can’t with you right now.  I want—”

“Scott,” Mac said, uneasily, carrying his open copy of the Sun, as he emerged from his office. “I know you’re not happy about this—”

“I want them off the case,” Scott cut in. “Give it to Major Crimes—”

“Major Crimes is two detectives that already have their plates full.” Mac looked at Taggert. “Who’s on the Lansing house today?”

“Rodriguez—” Taggert got to his feet. “This is bullshit, I told you she’s not involved—”

Capelli dismissed his concerns but Mac shook his head. “This was supposed to be a line item in the gossip section,” he told Capelli, irritated. “I told you. It was supposed to read like a rumor—you gave them everything we had—Michael’s statement, the fact that Jason Morgan has been inside the house—”

“A gossip item wasn’t going to get Lansing’s attention. Stop worrying,” Capelli said. “We got a car at the house, and didn’t one of the rookies say the wife has one of Morgan’s men following her—”

“They’re not inside the house,” Mac said with clenched teeth. “If Lansing goes after her, we might be too late—”

“Pull him in for questioning now,” Scott barked. “Pick him up, get him out of the house.”

“We’re all acting like she’s an abused wife—”

“You’re off the case, Capelli,” Mac snapped. “And you’re suspended—”

“You’re going to hear from my union rep,” Capelli snarled. But he grabbed his keys and stalked out of the room. “This is bullshit—”

“I told you I didn’t want this leaked to the press,” Scott told Mac. “If anything happens to her because of this, her family is going to own you and this building—”

“She doesn’t have any family,” Taggert murmured. He set the paper down. “I’m going to call Rodriguez and tell him to do a welfare check.”  He picked up his keys and drew his badge and gun from the drawer where he kept them.

“There’s a reason we don’t keep rookies, why qualified senior officers don’t stay,” he continued. He met Scott’s eyes, then looked at Mac. “Capelli doesn’t give a shit about Elizabeth Webber because she’s mixed up with Corinthos and Morgan. He figures if something happens to her, then it means Morgan will have a motive to go after Lansing. It’s all about them. Fuck anyone else.”

“And I haven’t been much better. We screwed up this case from the beginning because we all saw it as a back door to maybe getting them.” He started for the door, but turned back just before he left. “If anything happens to her because of this, you’ll have my badge. I’m done with this shit.”

“Scott,” Mac began once Taggert had left but Scott just shook his head.

“He’s right. We figured Elizabeth was making her own choices. We should have hauled him in for assault last week. There was enough probable cause.” Scott exhaled slowly, looked down at the paper. “We forgot what we’re supposed to be doing here. She’s not a pawn, not someone we can use to get to someone else.” He glared at the commissioner. “And you can tell the mayor I don’t give a shit if it’s an election year for him. I’m tired of ignoring what I know what is right.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason had fallen sleep on his sofa in the early hours of the morning after overseeing the cleanup and dump of Faith Roscoe’s body. She was one more threat they should have neutralized months ago, and it felt almost like a relief to do something proactive.

And knowing she would never be in the position to hurt Elizabeth again was just a bonus.

He was jarred out sleep by a pounding on his door—it was too early for the guard to be on Sonny’s door and run interference—so by the time he got the door unlocked, his cell phone had started to ring.

“Oh, God, I thought you weren’t here,” Bobbie said, tears in her eyes, her chest heaving. She pushed a paper at him. “This was dumped on my doorstep about twenty minutes ago.”

Jason shook his head, trying to clear the fog of sleep—he was usually a pretty light sleeper and alert once he woke, but he’d been running on fumes for days—last night had been the most sleep he’d managed at once since Carly had gone missing.

He stared down at the paper, horrified to find his face next to Elizabeth’s—with a headline accusing them of an affair. He ripped the paper open and started to skim the article. “What the hell is this? How did—”

Sonny had threatened all the papers if they ran anything about Ric, but maybe the Sun—

“The article cites sources in the PCPD,” Bobbie snarled as Jason struggled to understand what was happening. “It says you’ve been in her house for hours—and they’ve got you visiting her at the studio—”

“It also says one of my guys is on the door at the studio—to keep people out—” Jason squeezed his eyes. “If Ric sees this, he’s either going to believe it’s an affair or he’s going to know she’s been helping us—either way—”

He let the paper fall to his feet and scooped his phone from the charger on the desk. He pressed Elizabeth’s speed dial—but it went straight to the automated voicemail. “Damn it. Is it too early?” It was just after eight AM and he saw now that she’d sent a text at six to let him know she was awake, and he had missed a call at seven so he had two additional texts from her, both simply stating that she was okay.

The last text at eight had asked him if he was okay. He sent her another text asking her to call him, but he couldn’t wait for her to check in—

“Call Cody—” Bobbie suggested as Jason told her about the texts. “He’ll know if Ric brought in the paper.”

Cody picked up on the first ring. “He hasn’t left yet,” he said, the usual greeting.

“Did he bring in the newspaper yet?” Jason demanded. “Could you see which ones?”

“I didn’t—I didn’t really pay any attention—from the shapes, it looked the Herald and the Sun—why?”

“Okay. Okay. I need you to—” Do what? Call the police? Storm the house? What if Ric didn’t notice right away—what if Elizabeth was able to hide the paper—

“Jason—” Bobbie said. “I can go over. I can check on her. I should have gone straight there, I just—”

“Wait—” Cody said, drawing Jason’s attention. “There’s something happening in the police car—”

“What—”

“Rodriguez is getting out and going up the walk to the door. Should I find out?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“I’ll go.” Bobbie darted out the door, leaving Jason standing there, cell phone in one hand—the paper sprawled open at his feet, Elizabeth’s face staring up at him.

Fuck it. “I’m coming over,” he told Cody. He snagged his boots from the sofa and managed to catch Bobbie before she got on the elevator.

Lansing Home: Panic Room

Carly barely recognized that it was morning—only the sunshine pouring in when Ric opened the door to get the paper told her it was a new day—and the sunshine was a dim white on a small black and white screen in her prison.

Almost as an afterthought, she watched him scan the headlines on the top paper—the Herald from the way it was folded—before setting it aside for the Sun. She missed reading the tabloids—it was always filled with someone else’s misery and someone’s scandal—those were the days.

When she saw Ric’s expression change, Carly sat up straight. What was in the paper that would make him so angry—He hurriedly opened the paper—continued to read, then to started to shout—no mistaking the anger in his features, even on her tiny screen.

“What’s going on?” she murmured, leaning in.

Lansing Home: Living Room

“What the hell is this?” Ric snarled. Elizabeth rose from the sofa, confused until she saw a glimpse of her own face on the cover of the Port Charles Sun. “Are you fucking him?” His face seemed somehow twisted, flushed red, the cords in his neck bulging. His teeth were bared as he spit out the words.

“What?” Elizabeth blinked. She took an involuntary step back at the light in his eyes, the set of his mouth. But she was having a particularly rough morning and her reflexes were not nearly as fast as they needed to be—before she could even register that he was moving—he had grabbed her arm and was shoving the paper into her face.

“He’s been in my damn house, Elizabeth—” Ric was so close—his nostrils flaring, his teeth bared. “Every day—”

“It’s—” Elizabeth struggled to make sense of what was happening. Her heart was racing, and she couldn’t find the words at first. Make it stop, make it stop. How did she make it stop? “What are you talking about?”

He shoved her away—and she hit the floor, her elbow hitting the table as she fell. Pain exploded in her arm, in her side as she crashed into the hardwood floor. She sucked in a deep breath. Phone. Get to the phone. Elizabeth started to crawl towards her purse—why didn’t she keep the damn phone with her? Why had she tried to get cute and hide it?

Get to the phone. Call Cody. Call Jason. Get help—

She tried to scream as Ric grabbed her again, wrapping his fingers around her upper arm, digging into the skin, and almost lifting her to her feet in one fell swoop. He shoved the paper at her again—she tried to claw away from him—pushing him—scratching him—

“Let me go!” she cried. Her elbow hit something hard—and something crashed and shattered. The vase on the table next to the sofa.

“Everything I’ve done for you!” Ric was screaming at her. “And you’ve been betraying me!”

Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears—her chest aching—she finally managed to break away from him and throw herself at her purse. It fell from the small book case against the back wall, and she scrambled for it. She could almost hear him now coming after her and she flipped on her back, kicking out with her feet.

She managed to land one right in between his legs and Ric fell to the ground, giving her a small break—a chance. Elizabeth lunged to her feet, her purse in her hands, trying to fish the phone out.

“Fucking whore. Bitch—” Ric managed. On all fours, trying to grasp his breath, he stared her, his jaw clenched, a vein throbbing in his neck. “I gave up everything for you!”

One hand on her phone, she pressed speed dial, bringing it to her ears. With the other—she fished something from behind the umbrella stand—a baseball bat. She shifted her grip so she could swing it more easily. “Stay away from me—” she choked out. “Cody? Cody! I need you! Please! Call 911—”

But the words were no sooner out of her mouth then there was a furious pounding on the door—and then it burst open. Cruz Rodriguez rushed in, followed closely by Cody—and then bringing up the rear—Taggert who swept his eyes over the room, took in Elizabeth’s tears stained face—the scratches on her arm—the dark red marks from where Ric had grabbed her.

“You son of a bitch,” he breathed. He almost went for Ric with his fists—but drew himself back. He pulled out a set of handcuffs out. “You’re under arrest—”

“Me?” Ric got to his feet, his eyes bulging. “What for—” He gestured at her. “She’s the whore—she’s been screwing Jason Morgan—”

Elizabeth closed the phone and shifted the bat until she gripped it with both hands. “Even if I were, you have no right to put your hands on me. To drug me!”

Ric scowled. “I knew you believed him—I knew you took his side—”

“I didn’t need to take his side!” She screamed and then sucked in a breath as her head started to spin. “I nearly died last week—I overdosed, and Jason found me. He took me to the hospital—you can talk to Monica. She ran the tests—” This she let tumble out to Taggert, whose face darkened into a furious scowl.

She actually saw Ric rein himself in now. His expression softened. His voice changed. “You’ve been taking Valium since the miscarriage—I’m—I’m so sorry, Elizabeth. I overreacted, the paper—”

And how quickly he shifted personalities—from the angry, violent, cuckolded husband to the worried husband. God, how many faces did he have? “I’ve tried to talk to you—” he continued, talking to her as if she were stupid. As if she had imagined it all.

“Don’t you even dare try it—Monica can prove you started drugging me in January!” She pointed the bat at him. “Did you drug me because you knew I’d never sleep with you otherwise?”

“What?” Taggert demanded, his eyes burning as he stepped between them. “You son of a bitch—” He strode over to Ric who didn’t fight too hard as he was roughly handcuffed. “You’re under arrest for assault—”

“It’s her word against mine,” Ric grunted. All traces of the worried husband had vanished now.

“Yeah, I’m not worried about that—” Taggert glanced over as they heard another car screeching to a halt in the street.

Cody leaned out the open doorway and winced. “It’s Bobbie-” He glanced at Elizabeth with almost a bit of regret. “And Jason.”

“Of course,” Ric snarled. “Her lover’s coming to check on her—”

“Shut up, asshole,” Taggert hissed. He looked to Elizabeth. “I’m taking him down to the station. I’ll need you to come down to the station to press charges—” He hesitated. “Please, for the love of God—”

“Just tell me where to sign,” Elizabeth almost growled as Jason and Bobbie joined the crowd at the door. She watched as they took in the scene, as Jason’s eyes raked over her disheveled and bruised appearance. Bobbie put a hand on his shoulder as if to hold him back.  “Where is she, Ric? It’s over. You know that, don’t you? Where’s Carly?”

Ric smirked as Taggert almost dragged him towards the door. Bobbie had to literally pull Jason out of the way as they came within a hairbreadth of one another. “I have no idea. I hope she’s still alive.”

And then he was gone, down the steps to the sidewalk. Cruz cleared his throat awkwardly after a moment or two had passed. “Um…do you want me to drive you there? To the PCPD, I mean,” he said hesitantly.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and loosened her grip until the tip of the bat hit the ground. “I can’t—” She pressed a fist against her chest. “I can’t seem to—”

Bobbie and Jason both moved at the same time, but Jason reached her first. He put an arm around her shoulders and almost carried her to the sofa, so she could sit down. She closed her eyes. Tried to catch her breath. Why couldn’t she stop breathing so fast—

Dimly she was aware of Bobbie perching on the coffee table in front of her, taking her wrist. “Your pulse is racing, Elizabeth. Let me call Monica—have her meet us—”

“No…” Elizabeth opened her eyes. “No, I’m—I’m okay. It’s just—” Her lips were dry. “It’s—I’m halfway through the two weeks she said it would take to withdraw from the—” She blinked as Jason took the bat and set it aside. “I need that,” she murmured. “Don’t take it —”

“It’s right here.” Jason glanced around the room—took in the shattered vase, the newspaper in tatters, the furniture moved out of the way—her purse’s contents strewn across the floor. “Elizabeth—”

“I’m sorry, I ruined everything,” she said sucking in a deep breath. “Ric knows. He knows. And it’s my fault. I didn’t know how to—I couldn’t think—he was so angry, and I couldn’t calm him down—I couldn’t get him to stop screaming long enough to make up—”

“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” Bobbie hissed. She got to her feet and glared at Cruz. “Sources at the PCPD,” she said, scathingly. “No wonder you and Taggert were practically on her doorstep when the story broke. Guilty conscience?”

“What?” Elizabeth shook her head. “I didn’t even see the paper—I just—he was so angry, he knew you’d been here—”

“You were already coming up to the house when Miss Webber called,” Cody said to the officer flatly. “You knew there’d be trouble.”

“I don’t—” Cruz shook his hand, clearly shaken. “I got word from Taggert he was on his way, but he wanted me to do a welfare check. I didn’t know until I heard something break and then you were screaming so—” He swallowed hard. “I didn’t know.”

“He’s a rookie, Bobbie,” Elizabeth murmured. She pressed her hand to her head. Everything hurt so much. “Last week was his first day. You told me he started with Lucky, remember?”

Bobbie exhaled slowly. “I know. I know. He’s just—” She gestured uselessly. “He’s here. Who am I supposed—” She narrowed her eyes. “Scott. That’s who I’m going to kill next. Then maybe Mac. Depends who I see first. They’re both too fucking concerned with Sonny and Jason and my daughter is gone—” Bobbie’s voice broke.

“He’ll never tell us now,” Elizabeth said. She squeezed her eyes. “Maybe if I don’t press charges—”

“He’ll never tell us,” Jason repeated. “Because it puts him on the hook for kidnapping, and if something happens to Carly because of it—” He couldn’t finish his sentence. “We can’t think about that right now. We need to make sure he stays behind bars at least for right now. Until we can figure out what to do next. So, we’ll go sign a statement, and then you’ll come back here, get your stuff—”

“I can’t go,” Elizabeth said, and she scowled when almost everyone in the room groaned. “No, no, you don’t get to act like I’m being stupid about this. There’s something in this house—” She shoved Jason’s hands away from her arms and rose to her feet, grimacing when a wave of a dizziness swept over her. “You know I’m not stupid. If I stop living here, I can’t come back—”

Jason hesitated, and Bobbie glared at him. “Stop letting her guilt you into this! Elizabeth, it’s done. There’s nothing here. She’s not here—”

Jason held up a hand to cut Bobbie off, and then eyed the cop for a long moment. “You can go to the station,” he told him blandly. “We’re going to let Elizabeth clean up, calm down, and then we’ll be down.”

Because Cruz badly wanted to go and get his head on straight, he nodded, and then left. Cody closed the door behind him and leaned against it, remaining silent.

“I talked to Faith Roscoe last night and she told me that Ric was looking for a particular house. That something about this place was important.”  He rubbed his eyes. “I just—you’re right, Elizabeth. I know you’re right. But if you stay here, it’s like we’re saying Carly is more important than you—”

“No, you’re not.” Elizabeth shook her head. “No. That’s not what I think is happening here. Hey, look at me, Jason. Every second of the last week, you’ve been trying to drag me out of this house because you were worried what would happen with Ric. Not for one minute have I thought you put Carly’s safety in front of mine. And I—” Her voice trembled. “And what happened was—I was scared. But I got myself out of it. And Ric’s gone. He’s not in the equation. You—You can get me a lawyer who can get me a restraining order. I’m in less danger now—”

She looked at Bobbie. “It’s even worse now. Wherever Carly is, she’s alone. And I know she’s scared. Ric’s gone. If he was taking her food or supplies—I don’t know how—but if he was—then that’s done now. We have to find her now. Today. I don’t have to worry about Ric finding out what I’m doing anymore. He knows. So I need a ride to press charges, I need to get a restraining order, so we can come back here and gut this place if we have. Rip out the walls. I don’t care.”

She pressed a hand to her head. “But I need a ride because I don’t think I can drive. I don’t feel that great.”

“We’ll go to the hospital after—”

“After we find her,” Elizabeth said, interrupting Bobbie. She gingerly moved towards her purse and knelt on the ground, trying to reach for the contents that had spilled in her desperation—for her wallet, her keys— “I know what’s wrong with me, and there’s nothing Monica can do for me except give me more drugs, and I’m not interested in that.”

Bobbie helped her gather the rest of her things, and then helped her to stand. “Okay, let’s go press charges.”

“Elizabeth…” Jason hesitated. Holding her arm back. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly. Bobbie tipped her head at Cody, and the two of them went outside.

“No,” she admitted. “I’m not. I am—I’m so far from okay, right now.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t even know what happened. What he accused me of—why—”

Jason picked up the torn Port Charles Sun and held it out. She looked at him, then took it. “’Femme Fatale’,” she murmured. “Nice that I get top billing.” She found the main article and sighed at the photos the paper had dug up of her with Jason and Ric. “Lucky for them that they took this photo at just the right minute, huh?” She said, holding it up. “Five seconds later and I wouldn’t have been in the frame.”

“Elizabeth—”

“’Sources in the PCPD’,” she murmured, “’suggest that the affair is recent after a long period of estrangement. Jason Morgan reportedly spends hours in the newlywed’s home after Richard Lansing leaves…’” Her eyes burned. “I thought everyone was trying to keep Ric’s name out of the papers—why would the PCPD leak his name and let them think—” She swallowed hard. “I guess…I mean.” She set the paper down. “It’s only partially a lie.” She licked her lips. “I mean—I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

“Elizabeth…”

She moved past him and picked up the baseball bat. “I brought this home from the studio a few days ago and hid it in the umbrella stand.’

He took it from her, turned it over in his hands. “It’s the one I got you last year.”

“Yeah. I didn’t get to use it.” When he handed it back, she tucked it back in the stand. “But I remember what you told me. Go for the knees.” She rubbed her chest again. “Let’s get this over with. Nikolas’s plane is supposed to be coming in soon, and I want to be able to focus on what we’re going to do next.”

“Okay,” Jason agreed. He opened the door for her, locked it, and then followed her down the walk.

Behind the walls of the living room, Carly sat on her cot, her arms wrapped around herself, rocking back and forth. Oh, God, what was she going to do? Ric would never tell them where she was—she’d screamed herself raw while Ric was attacking Elizabeth—when the cops were there—

But he’d been right. The room was sound proof. And they were never ever going to find her. She was going to die in these walls.

I don’t know what’s worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I don’t know why I instigate
And say what I don’t mean
I don’t know how I got this way
I’ll never be alright
So I’m breaking the habit
I’m breaking the habit tonight
– Breaking the Habit, Linkin Park

---

Friday, June 27, 2003

 Brownstone: Living Room

 Bobbie tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the long-distance call to connect with Nikolas. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lucas and Lulu bickering about what to pack, what not to take, and Lulu trying to get out of the trip altogether.

“Bobbie?” Nikolas’s voice seemed a bit faint. “Hey—”

“Hey. I don’t know how much you know about what’s going on here this last week,” she said as she cut off his greeting. “Has Lucky called you?”

“Ah…no.” Nikolas’s voice got a bit stronger. “But Emily did—Carly’s missing, and Elizabeth’s husband is the primary suspect? She called me a few days ago, but she said I shouldn’t come to Port Charles—”

“That was then. This is now.” Bobbie pressed her free hand to her temple. “We’re out of ideas. The PCPD can’t find Carly, Jason is frantic, and Sonny’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown—though I think maybe that’s actually more like he’s now recovering from some kind of breakdown. I don’t know. You’re the only person left in Liz’s life who gives a damn. And you—well the Cassadines are psychos, so—”

“Maybe I have some insight into other psychos?” Nikolas said dryly. “I can be there tomorrow, Bobbie. You can explain everything to me then and I’ll see what I can do.”

Bobbie closed her eyes. She hadn’t imagined he’d come right home. “You can leave Laura? It’s not going to mess her up? Elizabeth would never forgive me if I—”

“Mom is responding well,” Nikolas said. “And Lesley and Luke can handle things for a few weeks. And she’d never forgive me if I let something happen to Elizabeth.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She and Nikolas said their goodbyes, and Bobbie hung up. She turned her attention to the bickering idiots in her living room. “Look, I get that neither of you want to go to the island with Courtney and Michael.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to go,” Lucas said. “I don’t know why she’s coming.”

“Hey, I can stay home—”

“Michael likes you, Lu,” Bobbie said, almost exasperated. “And I thought you’d have some sympathy for him. You know what it’s like to be missing your mother, to be worried about her.”

Lulu closed her mouth and frowned. “I do, Aunt Bobbie. I just…” She lifted her hands. “You sure you won’t need me here? Who’s going to take care of you?”

“Nikolas is coming back tomorrow,” Bobbie said, instead of arguing that she’d taken care of herself for her entire life and certainly didn’t need a teenager to look out for her. “Thank you.”

“Mom….” Lucas embraced her, and Bobbie hugged him back tightly. “Hey. I know you’re scared. If this is what is going to help you deal with this, then that’s what I’m going to do. I just….” He drew back, shaking his head slightly. “I hope everything turns out well.”

“Me, too.” Bobbie then hugged Lulu. “Jason said the plane should be ready in a few hours, so you guys better get going to the airport and meet Courtney there with Michael.”

Elizabeth’s Studio

Elizabeth stared at the sketch pad in her hand, the pencil lines little more than scribbles. She’d come to the studio today because she needed a break from the house—because she needed to pretend for just one minute that her life was okay.

But it was hard to hold up that pretense with the patrol car that had followed her car from the house to the studio—right behind the dark car which Cody drove. She had her own personal escort to keep her safe, but what did Carly have?

And where was Carly? Was she in the house? Elizabeth couldn’t imagine how she was, but maybe she wasn’t crazy. She felt like she wasn’t alone when she should be.

If Carly was in the house—was she alive? She had to be alive—why else would Ric kidnap her?

Elizabeth rubbed her head. She was tired of the headaches, the exhaustion she carried with her, the nausea—all of the things Monica had warned her she’d deal with for the next few weeks as she came down from the Valium Ric had been giving her for months.

Drugging her for months. Elizabeth still couldn’t wrap her mind around that kind of betrayal—couldn’t understand it—Monica had said the dosages had been low, infrequent, and hadn’t picked up until after the miscarriage. But knowing that there had been the possibility that her child had already been…. compromised…she almost couldn’t process that.

Had…had he drugged her when he wanted to sleep with her? Was that why she’d turned to him after her grandmother’s funeral? They’d slept together then for the first time…and then infrequently after that. She’d never really been able to find the comfort she sought—

Had Ric drugged her to sleep with her? God. Didn’t that mean she’d—

She cut herself off from that train of thought immediately because she really couldn’t process the logical next step.

Cody knocked on her door, then opened it slightly. “Jason’s here.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth frowned, let her feet fall to the ground from the sofa as she set the sketch pad aside. “Was—was I expecting you?”

“No,” Jason admitted, dragging his hand through his hair, leaving it to rest at the nape of his neck. He waited for Cody to close the door. “I—I was on my way to meet with Ned, but I wanted—” He hesitated. “Bobbie came by earlier, and—”

Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “You’re upset,” she realized. “What happened?”

Jason sat on the edge of the sofa—at the other end. He clasped his hands between his spread-out knees and stared down at them. “You know Sonny has been struggling…”

“I mentioned it to Bobbie—I hope that was okay—”

“Yeah. No, it was fine. She was there when—” He paused. “Sonny has dark moods. I don’t really understand them, but sometimes he…breaks down. And today…he was talking to Lily.”

“Lily…the wife that…” Elizabeth restlessly rubbed her hand against her jean-clad thigh. “Oh, God. Poor Sonny. This must bring that all back. He’s always blamed himself for that, right? And now…another pregnant wife he couldn’t protect.”

Jason nodded wordlessly. “I gave him a sedative, but—yeah. I don’t know. I knew he wasn’t doing well, but Courtney was supposed to be taking care of him.” He glanced at her quickly then looked away. “She’s taking Michael to the island tonight.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip. “It’ll be good for Michael to get away. I’m sure he’s been so upset by all of this.”

“I just—” He shook his head. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ve—I’ve been able to see you every day, and I didn’t—we didn’t search the house today.”

“No, I guess we’ve gotten what we can from the house.” She sighed. “I still…I feel like we’ve missed something, you know? I don’t know how because we’ve torn the place apart, but there has to be something there.”

“I know. I can’t think of what could be there, but—it’s the only place where he spends any time, so…” Jason trailed off. Shook his head. “I meant to tell you that Bobbie called Nikolas to ask him to come home.”

“Nikolas?” Elizabeth repeated, leaning back a little. “She’s not trying to get him to talk to me about—”

“No,” Jason said. “We’ve both given up on that. But we’ve…we’ve gone in circles with what we know. Maybe someone who hasn’t been here—”

“And someone who has crazy in his DNA?” Elizabeth suggested with a half a smile. “Yeah, maybe that makes sense. It can’t hurt, and it’ll be nice to see him. He left a message last week on the machine while I was—” She blinked. “He left a message for me,” she repeated. “I must have been asleep when he called. And Ric would have picked up if he’d been home—”

“It could narrow down the time frame. Prove Ric didn’t have the time to take her somewhere else.” Jason got to his feet. “I’ll call Stan and Spinelli and get them on the phone records.” His eyes caught the clock on her wall next to the door. “I should—I’m supposed to meet Ned about his business dealings with Ric and Faith, so I should go.”

Elizabeth stood as well and followed him to the door. “I should be getting home,” she admitted. “The last thing I need is for Ric to show up here and—” She gestured at the door. “Find Cody.”

He turned to face her. “Elizabeth—I know I said I’d given up, but—” He swallowed hard, his eyes searching hers. “I hate you going back there.” He hesitated. “Back to him.”

“I know,” Elizabeth murmured. Without meaning to, her eyes filled, and her throat felt tight. “I don’t want to,” she admitted. “Everything in the last six months—it’s been a lie—and I keep thinking about why he started to give me Valium—every time I look at him, I know what he did to the baby—”

“I didn’t even—” Jason touched her shoulder, his face stricken. “Is that what caused the—”

“No, but Monica said it might have been a blessing,” Elizabeth’s voice trembled. “Because…it…there might have been defects and—” A sob slipped out and she turned away. “I can’t stand it. What kind of person am I to be glad I lost my baby? I wanted that baby. I know all the reasons it was wrong—that I’m better—”

“Hey—” Jason turned her back to face him, lifting her chin so their eyes met. “You would have been an amazing mother, but it’s okay to feel however you want to feel about it. I’m so sorry, Elizabeth. I wish I could have done something to stop it.”

“You tried.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “You warned me, but I didn’t listen. I was so angry with you, so hurt—I couldn’t breathe. And he kept saying all the right things—I don’t know why I couldn’t just let myself trust you.”

He gently kissed her forehead. “We hurt each other,” Jason murmured. She opened her eyes to look at him and saw the regret in his eyes. “But we’re going to find Carly and we’re going to make Ric pay for everything he’s done to you both.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath, nodded. “I know. I can believe it when you say it.” His thumbs gently wiped away her tears. “It’s stupid to wish I could turn back time, but I wish I could go back to that night I left you,” she said softly. “And just…not do it.”

“If I could go back,” Jason said hesitantly, “then I would have stopped you from leaving.” His eyes still on hers, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. Her knees nearly buckled at the softness of the kiss—even as he was already stepping back, letting his hands fall to his side.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. “You should meet—you should go talk to Ned.” Her hands fluttered in front of her, unsure what to do with them. “I mean…he might have something to tell us about what Ric’s been up to.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m already late—” Jason waited another a moment. “I—I know this isn’t the time, but I wanted you to know that before Courtney left, we—I told her it was over.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Oh—I didn’t—”

“We can—we can talk about it later. After we find Carly.” After another long, lingering look, Jason left, and Elizabeth stood there, her hands fisted at her heart.

“He always does this,” she muttered. “Kisses me senseless and leaves. Every time.”

Kelly’s: Courtyard

 Ned checked his watch for the fifth time and scowled. He’d agreed to meet with Jason against his own better judgment—the last thing he needed was for his erstwhile cousin to think that he was in any way involved with Carly’s kidnapping.

And now Jason was almost twenty minutes late. Had he changed his mind?

Ned was getting to his feet when Jason ducked under the archway of the courtyard and approached him. “I’m sorry,” the younger man said, looking nearly exhausted as Ned remembered him looking before he’d taken his MCATs, back in the day when he’d been Jason Quartermaine.

“You know, you asked to meet me,” Ned said mildly as he took his seat again and gestured for Jason to join him. “If you were running late—”

“I didn’t—” Jason shook his head as if to clear it. “I had to see someone.” He shifted uncomfortably in the seat, then leaned forward, his hands clasped together, his elbows on the table. “You’ve worked with Ric Lansing.”

“I asked him for some legal advice,” Ned said mildly. He pushed his glass of water restlessly from one hand to another. “Nothing all that interesting—”

“You met with him here and there was paperwork. Look…I know how angry you were after Kristina—” Jason swallowed. “That was a bad time. I know you were angry. I don’t care about any of that, Ned. If anything happened to—” He grimaced. “I get it.  I just—I need to know about Ric.”

Ned tilted his head. “Before Emily left for California, she asked me to keep an eye on Elizabeth with Ric being the prime suspect in Carly’s kidnapping. You dated her, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Jason said flatly. “And she’s—she’s in danger. You know that. You know Ric is crazy. He’s already—I need to find Carly and get Elizabeth out of this. So stop—” He sat back, shook his head. “You can be pissed at me and Sonny all you want. Come at us, I don’t care. That’s the business. But Carly and Elizabeth don’t deserve this—”

“I was approached last fall,” Ned said when Jason stopped abruptly. “Just after Luis Alcazar tumbled off that balcony. Faith Roscoe wanted to know if I hated Sonny enough to get revenge. I did. It was never about you. It was always him.” He sighed. “I can see how terrified you are for Carly and Elizabeth, so I think you can understand why I agreed.”

“What did Faith want to do?”

“Ric was a connection of hers,” Ned continued. “I don’t—I don’t know how they met or how long they knew each other. But he was set up in Kelly’s pretty quickly, sometime in November. He was supposed to get inside Sonny’s circle and find me something we could—I don’t know. I don’t know if I had an endgame.”

“Ric and Faith were working together?”

“They are were still supposed to be working together up until the last few weeks. And…” Ned frowned. “He and Faith were sleeping together. They might still be, I don’t know. But he started seeing Elizabeth because of you. He thought she’d be angry enough to help.”

“But she didn’t help.”

“No.” Ned rubbed his chest, uncomfortable. “I don’t know how—I don’t know why I didn’t step away when she got involved. I wasn’t thinking clearly—I hadn’t—I didn’t think about the fact that she was Emily’s friend which meant she was still so young.  I just—I saw her as a pawn.” He’d never forgive himself for that. Elizabeth wasn’t that much older than Brooke, and he’d sat by while she got involved with a monster.

Jason nodded, dismissed that. “Could Faith be helping him with Carly?”

“I doubt it. Ric stopped returning phone calls in May—right about the time everyone found out he was actually Sonny’s brother. Faith didn’t know that either—she didn’t realize he had a personal stake. We didn’t know about Anthony Zacchara or Trevor Lansing. He might have come to Port Charles on their orders. He always seemed to be playing his own game.” Ned rubbed his chin. “I think he was obsessed with Elizabeth. And that pissed Faith off. When Ric married her—when Faith found out about the baby—she was livid. She’s still making threats about doing something to her, but I think—”

“You think Faith pushed Elizabeth?”

“I do,” Ned admitted. “She called me last week to complain about Ric not talking to her, to complain about Elizabeth. She made threats again a few days ago— she’s not happy with me either. My daughter moved to Port Charles, and time has…it’s cleared out my head. When Elizabeth had that miscarriage, Monica was upset. And I remembered who Elizabeth was to my family.”

Jason rubbed his hands over his face. “You backed out.”

“With Faith. I haven’t officially pulled the plug on Ric yet. I figure he pulled the plug on me first.” Ned waited a moment. “I don’t think Faith would have helped Ric, but if there’s anyone who knows where Ric might have taken Carly, it’s Faith.”

“Okay.” Jason shoved back his chair. “Thanks.” He hesitated. “You said Faith is still making threats. About Elizabeth?”

“About Elizabeth, mostly. A few for me and Brooke.” Ned rose to his feet. “Jason, Grandmother is, for some reason, very fond of Carly. I hope you find her.” The word alive hung between them, unspoken.

Jason nodded and left the courtyard. Ned watched him go and wondered if he was ever going to be able to forgive himself if something happened to Carly or Elizabeth because Ned had given Ric help once upon a time.

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Taggert tapped his pen against a folder. “There’s no way around it, Mac. Somewhere, we missed something.” He scowled, dumped the folder on Mac’s desk and pushed himself to his feet so he could pace. “Maybe we concentrated too fast on the Zacchara angle. Maybe we rushed into the situation too fast—if we had waited twenty more minutes before going to the Lansing house—if we’d watched him first—”

“You can second guess yourself until you’re blue in the face,” Mac said mildly from behind his desk. “I’ve been looking through your reports. Capelli might have cut some corners, but you didn’t. You followed the leads you had. Michael Corinthos told you he saw a man who looked Ric Lansing. You went to Lansing’s house and searched it. You looked into Ric’s background. You investigated his connections. You’ve had men watch him for the last week.”

“Maybe it wasn’t Ric,” Taggert muttered, rubbing his hand over his bald head. “I mean, it’s summer, so I guess we can’t say it was too dark Michael to know the difference. But he was a traumatized six-year-old, right? Maybe he just saw a dark-haired man. Luis Alcazar had family. A brother who looks a lot like him.”

“I saw that in your file, too — Lorenzo Alcazar was awarded custody of Luis’s daughter, Sage. They currently live in Caracas, Venezuela. No reports that Lorenzo has left the country.” Mac tipped his head. “Who else?’

“You’d think Corinthos and Morgan have a long list of enemies, but they don’t. Not anyone who would do this. The Families aren’t in for this, you know? Tagliatti and Vega like money too much, and this isn’t Ruiz’s style. Zacchara is a dead end. We got nothing to tie him to this. Maybe it goes back further than that.”

“Moreno? Sorel?”

“Maybe even Frank Smith,” Taggert said restlessly. “Or revenge for the car bomb. What do we know about Hernando Rivera’s people?”

“All of those people are gone now,” Mac reminded him. “We’ve had reason to look into them before. You researched the Rivera connection when Juan was here.”  He shrugged. “I hate this, too. I hate knowing that we’ve done everything we could have and we’re still at a dead end.”

“We could have brought Ric in for questioning.” Taggert resumed his seat. “Elizabeth had clearly been drugged—he was the only one who could have done it. We should have searched for medication. We could have nailed him—”

Mac hesitated. “You…you’re sure she was drugged?”

Taggert frowned at him. “Don’t tell me you’re listening to Capelli. He doesn’t know Elizabeth like I do. This is not a woman who turned to drugs after her miscarriage. That’s not who she is—”

“She’s had a rough year—between her botched wedding to Spencer a year and half ago — being kidnapped last year—being cheated on by Morgan with Sonny’s sister—her grandmother—the miscarriage—you don’t think it’s finally been too much?”

“Maybe I could see her using a prescription—leaning on it a bit too much,” Taggert said. “But I handled her miscarriage case—I have her medical records. She wasn’t prescribed anything then.” He leaned forward.  “I know she’s had a bad year, Mac, but I’m telling you—that’s not what was going on last week.”

Mac exhaled slowly. “Then why is she still with Lansing? Capelli says Morgan has been in that house almost every day this week. He thinks it’s an affair—”

“And that means what exactly?” Taggert said, irritated. “So, the fuck what? Morgan is looking for Carly. The only reason we got into that house to search last week was Elizabeth giving us the go. As long as she’s in that house, we get to search it any damn time we please. You think she hasn’t thought of that with Morgan? Community property. He’s not getting arrested.”

“Damn it.” Mac closed his eyes. “Capelli had me half thinking she might have…helped Ric.”

“She didn’t—” Taggert frowned. “He’s been wanting to leak to the press—shit, Mac.” He shot to his feet. “Tell me you didn’t give him the go head to leak an affair to the tabloids?”

“It’s just the tabloids—”

“What exactly about the affair is he leaking?” Taggert demanded. “Did he tell the bastards Morgan’s been in the house?”

Mac hesitated. “It was supposed to be just a small line item, so no.”

“And you think Capelli is going to listen? You gave him permission to do exactly—” Taggert stared at his commissioner. “Haven’t you screwed with her life enough? Is this because of Floyd, too? I’m so sick of that asshole and his election year pressures.”

“Don’t bring that up—it has nothing to do with this—”

“If Lansing finds out Morgan’s been in the house, what the hell you do think is going to happen to Elizabeth?” he snarled. He sliced his hand through the air. “This has always been the goddamn problem in this department. We got no problem sacrificing innocent people to get ahead. You better hope I can get that story pulled before it hits the stands tomorrow.”

He stormed out of the office.

Lansing Home: Panic Room

The entire time her mother had been in the house, Carly had been glued to the screen. When she was rescued she was going to learn how to read lips. This was so damn frustrating.

She watched as Elizabeth and Bobbie talked. She could tell they were both agitated. Upset. Not with each other—she could see that Bobbie was worried about Elizabeth, that the younger woman shared the same concern in reverse.

Had she really ever known how close Elizabeth was to her mother? Had she cared to learn anything about this woman?

She watched Elizabeth make a phone call—something she did almost constantly, Carly realized. Five or six times a day, Carly had caught her taking phone out of her purse—except when Jason was there. This was the first day since Sunday—how many days had actually passed?—that Jason hadn’t come to the house and searched it from top to bottom.

She was calling Jason.

Why was she calling Jason so much? Carly squinted. She saw her mother leaving—the hug—and then Elizabeth was talking.

No one was home, but the brunette had her eyes lifted to the sky—almost to the camera—did Elizabeth know it was there? No…no that wasn’t possible—

But somehow, Carly thought Elizabeth knew she was in the house. Maybe should sense how closely she was being watched—that was a thing, right? People could tell.

“I’m here, Elizabeth.” Carly pressed her fist to her mouth. “Please. Find me. Tell Jason. Tell Jason I’m here. You know I’m here. You can feel me here.”

She got up, tried to get to the walls—but she couldn’t reach that corner where the door slid open. She wanted to pound on it, scream Elizabeth’s name.

This room was so dark—even when all the lights were lit—it was still so dim. The shadows were inching closer to her, and she was tired of her own company, tired of her own voice.

Why couldn’t they find her? How could they not know about the panic room? This was Elizabeth’s house, wasn’t it?

“Please, find me,” she murmured. “Please don’t let me disappear.”

Faith Roscoe’s Apartment

When Faith Roscoe turned on the light in her living room that night, she was tickled pink at the sight of Jason Morgan casually sitting in her plush white armchair. “Well, well, I have to admit, I’ve always wondered what it would be like between us,” she purred.

Jason’s face didn’t change. “You’ve been working with Ric Lansing and Ned Ashton since last fall.”

Faith wrinkled her nose. “Someone’s been talking out of turn.” She wagged her finger. “Ned is a very naughty man.” She sashayed over to her wine cabinet and selected an excellent white vintage. “I haven’t had time to take care of him, but he’s on my list.”

“Is Elizabeth Webber on that list, too?”

Faith nearly bobbled the cork at the thought of that insipid little mouse. “My, my, does the dear girl have another champion? I must ask her how she does it—”

She never heard him move. One second, she was smirking, pouring her wine—and then the next she was shoved back against the wall, Jason’s hand tight around her throat.

“I never thought you were into games,” Faith said breathlessly, trying to sound amused. She was a woman, so Jason was trying to scare her. Well, mission accomplished. Time to give him what he wanted so he’d go away. “You’re here about Carly. You want to find her.”

“Did you help Ric take her? Are you hiding her?”

“I have no interest in Sonny’s wife,” Faith managed, as Jason’s grip relaxed enough for her to draw in a full breath. “And Ric has been a very disappointing boy. No, I did not help him. And I do not know where she is, buuuut….” She drew out in a sing-song voice, careful to keep her eyes locked on his. “I know he was quite desperate to find a house for his little china doll. Just the right house. The house was all he could talk about.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “He was looking for that house or a particular kind of house?”

“I don’t know, and I didn’t ask. I’m not interested in helping Ric start the perfect life with that—” Faith broke off whatever insult she was about to launch. Keep the eye on the prize. “There’s something about the house that made his plan complete. They moved in a week before Carly went missing.”

Jason nodded. Released her neck and started across the room. Faith rolled her shoulders, irritated. “If I knew where Carly was, I would have already found a way to make Ric pay for it. He’s become very boring, don’t you know?”

“Mmm…” Jason squinted at her. “You pushed her down the stairs, didn’t you?”

And the way he said it told Faith she’d already been convicted of the crime. Sentenced. Her palms began to sweat. How had she forgotten the reason they’d targeted the tedious little bitch in the first place? She was Jason Morgan’s ex-girlfriend—though maybe the ex was something he’d like to change.

“I did you a favor,” Faith said, spreading her hands at her sides. “Now you don’t have to take on Lansing’s bastard when you toss in him the harbor and take her back—and really—you’d be so much nicer to her, and he’s been just awful—” Her voice stopped abruptly when Jason drew his gun from where it had been tucked behind his back.

Faith swallowed. “I shouldn’t have done it, of course. I was angry, and I wanted to make Ric hurt. I didn’t even think about her. I should have. I should think more about other people. I will. I’ll enter a convent—” Her voice became more rapid as she watched Jason screw a silencer into the barrel. “I can help you,” she said desperately. “I can make Ric tell me—”

“Even if that were true,” Jason said slowly, meeting her eyes again. “It still wouldn’t save you.”

“Hey, you’re supposed to be the good one,” Faith retorted. “I’m a woman—isn’t there a code—”

“You don’t get to play in this world, Faith, and expect special treatment,” Jason said. “And this isn’t business. This isn’t about Sonny. This…this is personal.” He lifted a shoulder and looked at her without any expression in his eyes. “You knew who she was when you went after her. And as long as Ric wants her, she’s not safe from you.”

“Listen, that’s just not true—”

But she was dead before she could finish the sentence, the bullet hitting her just between the eyes. A nice, neat bullet hole between those wide blue eyes, still open—her mouth still forming words.

She hit the floor, her black sun dress pooling around her. Blood starting to soak into the carpet.

Jason stared down at her, then pulled out his cell phone. “Hey, Francis. Yeah, I got a cleanup for you to handle.”

As you turn to your mind,
And your thoughts they rewind,
To old happenings and things that are done,
You can’t find what’s passed,
Make that happiness last,
Seeing from those eyes what you become,
What you become
– Haunt, Bastille

---

Friday, June 27, 2003

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Scott scowled and threw his hands up. “How can we be nowhere after a week?” he demanded.  “Where the hell is she?”

“If we knew that, we’d have her,” Capelli growled. He jabbed his finger at Scott. “If your office could get me my damn warrants—”

“What the hell good is it going to do to search Corinthos and Morgan’s properties?” Scott dismissed it. “You have no probable cause and I’ll be shocked as hell if the judge says anything differently next week.” He looked at Mac. “If I have to take one more angry call from the fucking mayor and be told it’s an election year one more time—what the hell have your men been doing?”

Mac sighed. “We don’t have a lot of leads, Scott. You gotta give us a break—we had one eye witness—a six-year-old kid who was almost too terrified to even give a statement. He saw Ric. Great. We’ve investigated Lansing. We’ve had him under twenty-four-hour surveillance. He goes from his house to search out offices around town and then home again. What do you want me to do?”

Scott sat down on the sofa, put his head in his hands. “I can’t tell Bobbie that we can’t find her daughter. She’s already looking at us like we’re useless, and hell, maybe we are.”

“Hey,” Capelli said. “We’re trying our best—”

“If we hadn’t showed up last week, Corinthos and Morgan would have hung that piece of shit by his dick and they’d have found Carly in hours.” Disgusted with himself, he continued, “That’s where I am, people. I wish like hell our resident gangsters could have free rein because we can’t do shit.”

“We’re pursuing the Zacchara angle,” Capelli insisted. “It’s gotta be it. We know about the wife of someone he had blown up a few years ago. Corinthos’ wife goes missing, it’s gotta be a warning or something. If we had done what I wanted and gotten someone on the inside—”

“No one outside of the inner circle knows what’s going on. That wouldn’t have done us any good.” He looked at Mac. “The press is eating us alive because we haven’t given them any leads. I can’t believe Lansing’s name hasn’t leaked.”

“That’s because Corinthos threatened the papers,” Capelli said with a smirk. “I told you—they’re just waiting until they can get their hands on Lansing. And then we’ll get them all. Lansing for kidnapping, and Corinthos and Morgan for attempted murder—”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about Corinthos and Morgan right now,” Scott snapped. “I care about the missing pregnant woman. I care about the mayor losing my number. I care about the voters who are threatening me with a recall election. They think we’ve been going after the grieving husband—you’ve hauled Corinthos and Morgan in for questioning more than any suspects—in fact, why the hell don’t I have any official police statements from Lansing and his wife?”

Mac raised his brows at his officer. “That is a good question. You should have called the paramedics and forced Elizabeth to go to the hospital. We could have gotten him on drugging her. Made him cool his heels in the cell.”

“She wouldn’t go to the hospital,” Capelli retorted. “And she’s in this up to her goddamn elbows. I can’t figure out what game she’s playing. Either she’s in on it with Lansing or she’s screwing Morgan on the side because I got Jason Morgan going to that house every day as soon as Lansing leaves.”

“She’s letting him in to search,” Scott said after a moment. He exhaled slowly. “It’s obvious, you idiot. Read your own report. She’s the one who granted permission for the search in the first place. She’s still there to give him access to Ric’s papers.” Scott gestured at him. “Mac, are all the officers on the case this goddamn stupid?”

“Hey. She’s helping, fine. But we’re not getting anywhere. Wouldn’t he have figured that out after the first day? They’re having some kind of affair.” Capelli narrowed his eyes. “We should leak that to the press.”

“What?” Scott repeated, his eyes wide. “Leak what? Are you fucking insane—”

“Yeah,” Capelli continued with a nod, liking his own train of thought. “They got history. Everyone knows he’s been screwing her since she was barely legal. We leak the affair to the press, Lansing flips out. If he’s working alone, then he kidnapped Carly to get back at Sonny over the kid they lost. He might make a mistake.”

“You are not telling the press that two innocent parties to this investigation are having an affair,” Scott snarled. “Especially to get a rise out of Ric. If you’re right, he might kill Carly.”

“Shit, she’s probably already dead. He probably killed her that night or turned her over to the Zaccharas who wouldn’t have let her live long.” Capelli shrugged. He looked to Mac who had remained silent throughout this exchange. “This is still my case, Mac. Is he going to tell me how to investigate?”

“I’m telling you that you’re not opening this department up for a lawsuit,” Scott seethed. “Get your men under control, Mac. And get some damn results. Lansing should be brought in for questioning.”

He stormed out of the office, leaving the two cops alone. Mac eyed his officer. “I don’t like it,” he said evenly.

“I’m not convinced she’s not involved,” Capelli repeated. “The only reason we think Lansing drugged her is because we know she was high when we were there. She lost a kid, Mac. You’re telling me that doesn’t screw with people? Maybe she and Lansing are both screwed up. Maybe she’s playing everyone. I don’t know. I haven’t pushed because Taggert thinks she’s this innocent kid—but I think she’s proved that she’s not. She’s married to Ric Lansing, we both know she’s been dating Jason Morgan, she was up to her eyeballs in all the Cassadine shit—”

Mac waved at him. “Leak it,” he murmured. “To the Sun. A small gossip item, speculation or something. Make sure it doesn’t come back to us.” He hesitated. “I’m serious, Capelli. Not a single breadcrumb because when it hits the papers—” He looked away. “Scott’s going to kill us if he finds out I allowed this.”

“Hey, I know what I’m doing. It’s time to shake this case up.”

Lansing House: Living Room

Bobbie stepped over the threshold and examined Elizabeth with a critical eye. In the week since Carly had been kidnapped, she thought the younger woman had probably lost even more weight, giving her eyes a sunken in look—the bones of her collarbone prominent beneath the cream-colored tank top she wore.

“No news,” Bobbie said with an irritated sigh. “I talked to Scott and he said they’re nowhere.” She started to pace. “I don’t understand how she can just vanish.” She pressed her fingers to her to her temples. “I keep thinking what if we have it all wrong?”

Elizabeth sighed and closed the door. Her eyes blurred a bit and she stumbled as she turned. Damn it. How much longer would she be dealing with this withdrawal? Monica had told her to expect dizziness, nausea, being short of breath, restlessness—

She felt like she was going to come out of her skin if something didn’t happen soon.

“I know.” She sat down gingerly on the sofa, rubbing her arms. “Jason has been in to search every single day. I feel like we’ve gone over this house a thousand times. Every piece of paper—but nothing. I mean, it has to be Ric. There has to be a clue here. The evidence doesn’t fit any other scenario, but—” Her head was pounding, her mouth was dry. “We put more cameras in, so maybe we’ll get something from that. Maybe it’s just—maybe it’s just the drugs or coming off of them—but I almost feel like she’s watching me. Like there’s something here.”

Bobbie closed her eyes. “I know. Michael saw Ric take her. He’s six, but he’s not stupid. He knew what Ric looked like. We know Ric drugged you. He mixed it with alcohol, so it was even more potent. He wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t involved.”

“Maybe he didn’t bring her here,” Elizabeth said. “Maybe we were wrong about why he drugged me—maybe it was just so I wouldn’t notice he was gone.”

“I just can’t keep—” Bobbie scrubbed her hands over her face. “Everyone is looking at me with pity, like they think she’s already dead. Jason looks like a zombie, you’re on the brink of a medical disaster because you’re not eating and sleeping, and my daughter—” She stopped.

“I’m terrified that we’re wrong. That we’ve spent the last week searching for dead ends, but—” Elizabeth licked her lips. “Jason said that no one from the Zacchara family was in the area. And if it was—if it was business, wouldn’t they know? I mean…when I was kidnapped last year, Jason knew about it. He knew who it was. He accidentally—” Her cheeks flushed. “The guy keeping me died so he couldn’t tell Jason where I was. But—that’s how this is supposed to work. You don’t take someone for leverage if you don’t want to use the leverage.”

Bobbie frowned, folded her arms. “Jason has told you a lot, I see. More than he’s told me.”

“I—” She licked her lips again. They were so damn dry.  “We keep going over and over everything. I think—I think he said Sonny is struggling, and I know from the papers that the PCPD is going after them. Jason said Sonny is working on keeping them out of jail, so Jason is looking for Carly. And I guess—I don’t think he’s keeping things from you, Bobbie.”

“No, no. I don’t think so either. I guess you’ve always known more about Jason’s business than you’ve let on.” She sighed, sat on the sofa. “I think about that Christmas a lot, you know. When I took care of Jason’s gunshot wound.”

“I try not to,” Elizabeth murmured. “I was so scared when I found him. And he was so damn stubborn. He didn’t want me to tell anyone, so I didn’t, but I didn’t know if I could really take care of him.”

“You did such a good job. I guess it just reminds me of Robin and Courtney.” Bobbie looked away. “Jason was shot before that—and Robin called 911, forced him to go to the hospital. And Courtney called the cops. Let them in to search the penthouse. Just—” She shook her head. “I don’t know what made me think of that winter in your studio.”

“Well, we’re working together—the three of us—for the first time since then,” Elizabeth pointed out with a half-smile. “And remembering how much of a pest Carly made herself. After that, she pretty much hated me.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Bobbie dipped her head. “I just want her back, Elizabeth. I don’t know if we’ve missed something. If we’re all just—if we’re all just going in circles, going over the same information again and again. I wish there was someone we could take this to but there’s not. There’s no one who gets it.”

“I know.” Elizabeth’s watch beeped, and she sighed as she reached for her purse. She dug around and pulled out her phone. “I have to check in with Jason.”

“He really meant every hour, huh?”

“Yeah…I fell asleep yesterday at the studio and missed a check in,” she murmured as she pressed the speed dial. “He called Cody within like…I don’t know, thirty seconds—Hey. Yeah, I’m fine. He’s not here. Office space again. He must be looking in every single building in the greater metropolitan area. Bobbie’s here—Okay. Yeah. Bye.” She closed the phone. “He’s at the penthouse with Justus. Sonny’s…having trouble so he had to take care of business today.” She put the phone back in her purse, careful to tuck it into her secret pocket. “I wish I could do more for him. He’s got all this weight on his shoulders.”

“I know.” Bobbie got to her feet. “I should go see if I can do something with Sonny. Carly would want me to look out for him. He must be out of his damn mind with worry.” Elizabeth followed her to the door, and the two embraced. “Take care of yourself and don’t forget to check in with Jason.”

“I won’t. I’m trying very hard not to be one more person he has to worry about.” Elizabeth sighed and closed the door behind her. She leaned back against it.

“Carly?” she called out. Again, a little more loudly. “I don’t know if you can hear me. I don’t know if you’re even here, but I don’t know. Just—don’t lose hope. Jason’s—he’s going to find you. I promise.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Upstairs Hallway

Irritated, Courtney strode towards the guest room where her brother had been holed up for the last few days. He’d refused to take any visitors—had sent Michael to stay with Bobbie as if he couldn’t be bothered with his own goddamn son—

He was being so selfish, so useless. Jason was never home, out until all hours of the night worrying about everyone but Courtney, and she was sick of Jason shouldering all of Sonny’s responsibilities.

She threw open the door. “Sonny—”

She couldn’t see her brother right away—the room was in shambled, the dark comforter twisted and pulled halfway across the bed—the desk chair broken and over turned.

“Sonny—?”

In the corner, her brother sat, crossed legged. His eyes weren’t on Courtney but staring ahead. “You’re never going to forgive me,” he said to the empty space in front of him. “I didn’t want you to die, but you’re never going to stop punishing me—”

“Sonny—” Courtney’s voice trembled. Her brother was disheveled—he hadn’t shaved in days, his hair was in loose curls around his temples, his voice raspy, the dark eyes rimmed so deeply in red— “Sonny,” she repeated, trying to make herself louder.

“Courtney.” Sonny focused on her. He looked relieved to see her. He beckoned to her. “You can—you can tell her. Tell her I didn’t want to kill her. That it’s not Carly’s fault.”

“Tell who?” Courtney said, faintly. Oh, Christ, her brother had snapped.

“She’s right there.” Sonny pointed at the empty space. “Tell her, Lily. Tell her why you’re here.”

“L-Lily…”

“She says it’s my fault, that I’m being punished, but it’s not fair to punish me.” He closed his eyes, shook his head. “Not fair to punish me.”

He reached for her, but Courtney had already fled out of the room and down the hall.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason walked Justus out of the penthouse and started for the stairs to exchange the used clothes in his duffel bag for clean ones. He couldn’t bring himself to come back to this place and share a room with Courtney when he knew that one of the reasons Carly was still missing was because Courtney had tied all of their hands and called the police.

He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t understand how he had so badly misunderstood exactly who she was—why he had ever believed she understood his life better than other women who had been in it.

He was considering calling Diego, the guy trailing Ric, to find out how much longer Lansing might be gone. He hadn’t searched the house yet today, and not to search it made Jason feel like they were giving up.

Like they were just waiting to find Carly’s body—and that he was not going to deal with that. The only way this was going to end was finding Carly alive and healthy and getting Elizabeth away from Ric Lansing.

Milo, Max’s little brother, knocked on Jason’s door, intending to announce his visitor but Bobbie came in before he had a chance. “Jason. I’m glad I caught you.”

“Hey.” He hugged her briefly. “I thought you were with Elizabeth.”

“I was, but I wanted to come here to check on Sonny. She said he’s been struggling. I thought—I thought maybe he sent Michael to stay with me because of Lulu and Lucas—so Michael could have someone to distract him.” Bobbie braced her hands on Jason’s forearms. “But it’s worse than that.”

“He—he was doing okay at first,” Jason admitted. “But he stopped letting us in on Monday and I’ve been—I’ve been letting Justus and Bernie take care of business matters. I should be checking on him—”

“But you have a thousand things to worry about—” Bobbie exhaled sharply. “I need to have something to do, Jason. And we need to change tactics. We need to try something new.”

“I know.” Jason groaned as he turned and started to pace. “It’s been a week, and we’re nowhere. I thought Ric was looking for somewhere to move her—but there’s nothing. Elizabeth and I have torn that house apart, and my contacts at the PCPD tell me they don’t know anything either—”

He grimaced. “It’s Friday. I told Elizabeth I didn’t want her to stay another night in the house but she’s going to argue with me. And she’ll be right. I’ve missed something in the house. I must have, I just don’t know where.”

“If you missed it, we all did,” Bobbie reassured him. “Elizabeth and I were going over it, and everything keeps coming back to the house. It’s the only place that Ric spends any time. The only way this makes sense is if Ric didn’t do it—”

“He did it,” Jason said darkly. “Michael saw him—”

“I don’t doubt that, Jason. And Elizabeth said you’re pretty sure the Zaccharas aren’t involved.” She bit her lip. “Or am I not supposed to know that she knew that?”

“I can’t keep any of that straight anymore.” Jason dragged his hands through hair. “No, I guess I shouldn’t have told her, but it just came out. She’s the only one who gets it—and you, I mean—but—”

“She’s someone you trust, I get it.” Bobbie hesitated. “Where does any of this leave us, Jason? Where is Ric keeping my daughter?”

“There—she’s in the house. It’s the only thing that make sense. It’s the only place Ric goes every day. Unless—”

“Unless he killed her that first night. Unless she never stepped foot in the house.” Bobbie was pale but nodded. “I’m—I’m starting to allow that to be a theory. Maybe something went wrong and he—”

“I can’t let it be something I consider. Because she’s out there, and she’s counting on me, and Elizabeth is counting—” Jason broke off. “I just don’t know what to do next.”

The door shoved open, and Courtney ran in. “Jason, you have to—Sonny—he’s gone crazy!”

Jason blinked at his fiancée as Bobbie scowled. “What?” she demanded.

“He’s sitting upstairs and he’s talking to Lily like she’s there—” Courtney didn’t even finish her sentence before Bobbie and Jason rushed out—

And then Bobbie slammed the door shut behind her when Courtney tried to follow.

Corinthos Penthouse: Guest Bedroom

Jason stopped Bobbie before she could follow him. “Listen. There’s—Downstairs, in the room where I used to sleep when I lived here—there’s a first aid kit. It—” He swallowed hard. “There’s a sedative.”

Bobbie frowned. “A sedative? This isn’t the first time then—”

“It’s been a few years since it’s been this bad—and he’s never seen Lily,” Jason admitted. “I think he’s been drinking pretty steadily since Carly was kidnapped, and when he’s stressed—sometimes he has a breakdown and has hallucinations. We got a doctor to give us something to give him—I’ll do it, you just—”

“I don’t care about my license. I’ll go get the kit.” Bobbie went back down the hallway.

Jason walked into the room and found Sonny leaning against the wall on the far side of the room, his legs sprawled out in front of him. “Sonny?”

“I’m useless, aren’t I?” Sonny murmured, his eyes closed. “Lily told me that. It’s my fault, and I can’t even make it right.”

“Lily was a nice a woman who didn’t know you that well,” Jason said gently as he gingerly knelt down next to Sonny. “She never, not for one minute, would have blamed you.”

“She does. Can’t you hear her?” Sonny gestured to a space just behind Jason. “She blames me. Courtney does. I tried to blame her, tried to make it her fault, but it’s mine.”

“Sonny—”

“I’m the reason Ric didn’t have a mother, so that’s why he’s crazy. And it’s my fault my mother died. She tried to give me a father.” Sonny’s voice was monotone, almost eerily empty as he continued. “It’s my fault Lily died. It was supposed to be me.”

“It’s her father’s fault—”

“It’s my fault Ric came for Carly. Why she’s missing. He says I killed his baby.” Sonny opened his eyes. “Did I? I’ve killed babies before.”

“Sonny—”

“I don’t think—” Sonny’s voice was thick now with tears. “I like Elizabeth. I don’t think I would have pushed her. But maybe I did. I’m poison, Jason.”

“No, you’re not. You know Lily’s not here,” Jason said, swallowing a lump in his throat. “It’s just you saying these things. Because you’re scared. I’m scared, too.”

“Yeah?” Sonny focused on him. “Why?”

“Because it’s been a week,” Jason admitted. “And I don’t know if I’m right. I don’t know if Ric has her in that house. And if he doesn’t, Elizabeth will have put herself into danger for nothing. I’m scared she’s already gone, Sonny. Or that Ric is going to cut his losses and hurt Elizabeth—even kill her this time.” Jason exhaled slowly. “I don’t have all the answers, Sonny. I wish like hell I did.”

Sonny looked past him again. “She’s not there anymore,” he said quietly. “I guess maybe she never was.”

Behind him, Bobbie gently set down the first aid kit. “Hey, Sonny.”

“Bobbie.” Sonny focused on his mother-in-law. “I’m sorry. I love Carly. I never wanted this to happen. I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are,” Bobbie said gently. “Will you let me take care of you? Carly would want me to look after you.” She held out her hand, and together, they pulled Sonny to his feet.

Sonny bobbed and weaved, then laid on the bed. “I’m so tired,” he murmured. He laid his head against the pillow and didn’t even flinch as Bobble delivered the shot.

They waited until Sonny was sleep, and then went downstairs.

Bobbie closed her eyes. “I’m going to call Nikolas,” she told him. “Nikolas is a set of fresh eyes. He can look at this situation and maybe he won’t get stuck. He’ll want Liz out of the house as much as we do and maybe he’ll have some ideas. He’s the only person I can think of who might be able to help.”

She focused on Jason. “You need to send Courtney away.”

“What?” Jason looked at her, squinted. “Why—”

“Because you’re killing yourself to avoid her. Because you know you’re ending it. And she’s just a distraction. An obstacle. She probably made things worse with Sonny, and God knows if she might cooperate with the cops again. Every time I see her, I want to choke the life out of her, so I can’t imagine how you feel about her. Send her to the island with Michael. I’ll talk to Lucas and Lulu. They can go with her.”

Jason exhaled slowly. “I keep thinking I don’t understand how any of this happened,” he admitted. “How—how did I almost marry her, Bobbie? I don’t think I even like her very much.”

Bobbie managed a weak smile. “I’ve been married enough to know that sometimes…you do it because you don’t think there’s anything better out there. It’s never okay to settle, Jason. I’ve done that more than once in my life.”

He sighed. “Yeah, well, you’re right. Courtney can take care of Michael and I won’t have to worry about him. You call Nikolas, and I’ll make the arrangements.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

There was a suitcase by his door when Jason finally went back to his place. He stared down at it—less than a year ago, he had walked through this door and found another suitcase packed, left at his door by a different woman.

When Elizabeth had walked away—when he’d seen that suitcase and known that he avoided the penthouse for too long—that he had waited too long—a hole had opened inside of him—an ache in his chest that only spread when she’d looked at him with those angry, betrayed eyes.

Looking at another woman preparing to leave him—the fact that knowing Courtney was going—it was relief. This was over.  She’d been a mistake—a wrong path—and now he’d have the chance to stop it. To end it before they both made this worse.

Courtney stopped at the bottom of the stairs, another suitcase in her hands. “I think it’s time we both stopped pretending you give a damn about me,” she said flatly. “You can’t say you love me, that you want to marry me, and treat me the way you have for the last week.”

“I—” Jason hesitated. “No. I care about you, but I knew even before Carly went missing that we were making a mistake.”

She swallowed hard, tears shining in her blue eyes. “I could feel you slipping away from me. As long as we were in crisis mode—as long as there was something else going on—we didn’t have to think about the fact that you didn’t love me. I don’t know why you lied to me—”

“I wanted to love you,” he admitted, painfully. “I thought—I thought you understood the way I had to live my life. You acted like you did—”

“I called the cops because my best friend was missing, and my nephew was devastated. I was afraid you and Sonny were going to kill Ric.” Courtney swallowed. “But you know…I guess I’ve ignored what you do. I put it into a box. I’m not like Elizabeth.”

Jason didn’t have the energy to have this conversation. Things had to get done. “I need you to go to the island,” he said, changing course. “I need—Michael needs to get away from this. Lulu and Lucas are going to go with you, but I need to know that he’s okay and somewhere safe.”

“You need me out of the way, too.” Courtney pursed her lips, exhaled slowly, and then nodded. “Yeah. Okay. It’s clear that everything I try to do here is just making it worse. You and Sonny hate me. And I guess bringing the cops in made a mess of things. I didn’t—I didn’t want that, Jason—”

“I know you were trying to help,” Jason cut in. “It just—it didn’t.”

“Yeah. Well, I guess I’ll finish packing. Let me know when I’m leaving.” She went back up the stairs, and he left, feeling dissatisfied with how that had gone.

He’d never meant to hurt Courtney, but by lying to himself, he’d lied to her, too. He didn’t recognize himself and couldn’t understand why it had taken so long to just admit the truth.

He couldn’t worry about Courtney anymore—he had to get the plane ready and let the people at the island know they were coming. Another thing to add to the list that only seemed to get longer every day.

You can’t play on broken strings
You can’t feel anything that your heart don’t want to feel
I can’t tell you something that ain’t real
Well the truth hurts
And lies worse
How can I give anymore
When I love you a little less than before
– Broken Strings, James Morrison

---

Wednesday, June 25, 2003

Lansing Home: Panic Room

He came in the dark when the rest of the world had gone to sleep.

The first time, she had tried to scream when the door slid open, but he only laughed at her. No one could hear her—not the woman sleeping upstairs. He’d drugged her that first night.

And after that night, Ric assured Carly that he’d found ways to continue drugging his wife. He kept the pills in a locked box high on a metal shelf in the panic room—even if Carly could get to it, there was no way to open it.  No way to destroy them.  The chain wrapped around her ankle didn’t allow her to get very far across the room.

Every night he brought her food meant to last her until the next night. She watched as he took pills from bottles—birth control to prevent pregnancy and Valium to keep Elizabeth asleep at night.

He mixed the pills into ice cube trays, freezing the pills so that Elizabeth wouldn’t know they were there. Always in every cube, one of each pill to make sure she ingested them.

And Ric was right—every day, Elizabeth drank glasses of water with those ice cubes. Ric thought it was amusing—he knew his wife didn’t trust him—knew there was a kernel of doubt in her mind.

He no longer tried to make her dinners, said nothing when she ordered out or made food for them both even though he was the better cook, he told Carly. Because Elizabeth drank the water without protest.

Carly was horrified—didn’t he worry that she might get sick? That she might take too much Valium?

He wasn’t—now that he was no longer drugging her in the food, he could control her intake more carefully. And the water likely diluted the dosage. He didn’t foresee any problems—he was sure it would be okay until the day her child was born.

Because then Elizabeth wouldn’t need him to drug her. The Valium was to keep her calm, to keep her biddable. If he gave her a baby—through private adoption—then he could stop giving her drugs.

She’d stay with him for the baby. She’d married him for the baby, after all.

Carly knew she’d talked Elizabeth into keeping the child and wished like hell she’d told Elizabeth to go for abortion.

It was nearly four in the morning when the door slid open on maybe the fourth or fifth night of her captivity—Carly was having trouble keeping track.

Ric set a tray of food on the far table, putting some water bottles in the fridge, the chilled soup—the sandwiches. She lay on her side on the cot, staring at him. Not engaging him in conversation.

He was the only link she had with the outside world, but Carly had no interest in talking to him.

Ric Lansing was a psychopath. A monster. Whatever psychological label doctors would put on him—he was wrong in the head—and Carly just wanted her freedom.

She’d watched Jason every day—watched him search. Watched Elizabeth search. She knew the other woman was on her side—prayed Elizabeth wouldn’t get sick, that Ric wouldn’t put her in any more danger.

As each day passed, she could see the hope fading from their expressions, even through the dimly lit screens. They were beginning to think she wasn’t in the house or that there weren’t any clues—and Carly couldn’t blame them.

Jason and Sonny were capable of violence—Carly had no illusions about the men in her life—but Ric was different. There was a deranged streak in his brain that allowed him to claim he loved his wife even as he regularly drugged her. A man who planned to kill a woman for her baby—

Carly knew he wasn’t going to wait until November when her child was due—the child growing inside of her could be viable as soon as September—and after that she would be useless to him.

“I’ll bring some magazines later today,” Ric said as he reached for the lock box. He counted out pills from each bottle and slipped them into a plastic bag. “I don’t want you getting too bored.”

Carly didn’t answer. She’d spent the first few days screaming at him, begging him. Reasoning with him.

But there was nothing inside him to reason with. The charming, smooth, sophisticated face he’d shown to the world for the last six months had been nothing more than a mask to hide the monster beneath.

She saw the true Ric now—the emptiness in his eyes. He was obsessed with his wife—had given up a plan to take out Sonny because of Elizabeth, or so he said—but Carly knew better. It wasn’t Elizabeth that had changed the course of Ric’s plan—no, it was the child. A baby that had given Ric the idea of extending his own existence—of creating another Ric.

He wanted the child—Elizabeth gave him the excuse, the cover to show the rest of the world.

Carly would be damned if she’d help him take her child and destroy Elizabeth in the process. She would hold tight to Jason and Sonny, to her faith in them. They would never stop looking for her, she knew that. And if sometimes that belief felt a little far away—she chalked it up to the darkness she lived with. Even with all the lights in the panic room switched on, the room could never mimic true sunlight.

Carly didn’t plan to die here in the dark and surrender her child to Ric Lansing. She would hold on to her sanity until Jason found her.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

It was with a great deal of reluctance that Jason opened the door to his penthouse, though the place hadn’t really felt like home in months. He’d told Courtney she could decorate it however she wanted, thinking that he didn’t really give a damn.

The truth was that he did care a little about what his apartment looked like—he just hadn’t realized it until Courtney had decorated it with elaborate furniture, knick knacks, and some sort of cabinet that made it almost impossible to use his pool table.

He hadn’t returned to the penthouse since the cops had searched it—had spent Saturday night with his tech guys, Stan Johnson and Damien Spinelli, putting together the surveillance for the house.

Sunday night, he’d been at the warehouse, making sure that everything was in place if they were raided, and he’d spent the last few nights watching footage of the Lansing house. They had only put cameras in areas of the house where Ric spent time alone—but it gave Jason some small comfort when he saw Elizabeth walk past those rooms—she’d made it through another night.

She called him every hour as promised or sent him short texts with nothing more than the words im ok—letting him know when she planned to sleep, when she woke up. It had done little to alleviate his discomfort that she remained in the house, so completely under Ric’s control, but Elizabeth was stubborn in her belief that she could help Carly best by staying close.

It was just past six that morning when Jason came in, worn out from another night watching the surveillance. They had learned nothing, and Jason was beginning to doubt there was anything to learn from the house.

While he hated the idea that it had been a dead end, at least he would be able to convince Elizabeth to desert her post and maybe, just maybe, she’d let him send her to Emily where she’d be safe.

He tried to be quiet as he took a duffel bag out of the closet in the master bedroom and took some clothes from the dresser, but the figure in the bed rolled over, blearily calling his name.

“Jason?” Courtney jack knifed into a sitting position. “What are—did you find her?” She pushed back the thin blue sheets on the bed and swung her legs out over the edge, getting to her feet. “Did you—”

“No.” Jason straightened, a clutch of t-shirts in his hand. “No. I—” He hesitated. “I’m sorry. I was just getting a change of clothing—”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, the color of lips fading into her skin. She switched on the bedside lamp. “You’re taking them with you. Why?” she demanded, her voice crackling with irritation, hands fisted at her hips, causing the silk night shirt she wore to bunch up.

Jason paused, then put the clothes inside the bag. “Because it will be easier,” he said after a moment. He meant every word of that statement. It would be easier for him to do what needed to be done if he didn’t have to come home to Courtney’s accusing eyes.

What exactly he was being accused of, Jason couldn’t say. His own anger hadn’t faded—the woman he’d intended to marry had not only called the police but allowed them to search his home. He couldn’t deal with Ric the way he wanted to with all eyes on him, with the cops breathing down their necks at work—

And somehow, Courtney had put herself in the position of being the victim, of looking so goddamn hurt when he and Sonny had criticized her for doing it.

It was easier to focus on Carly and keeping Elizabeth safe if he didn’t have to look at Courtney.

“Easier,” Courtney repeated. “Fine. Well, I wouldn’t want to distract you from finding Carly.” She folded her arms. “Have you been back to see Elizabeth?” she demanded.

Jason blinked at her. “What?”

“Sonny said Ric drugged her—or at least that’s what you believe. The cops obviously didn’t agree.”

Jason exhaled slowly. “Courtney—”

“I mean, how do you know she didn’t help?” Courtney demanded. “She’s always hated Carly, and everyone seems to think Ric is obsessed with her. Maybe Elizabeth blamed Sonny for her miscarriage, too. Maybe she snapped, and Ric helped her—”

Jason stopped listening and returned to the dresser. He put several pairs of jeans in the bag, some briefs, and socks. His deodorant, a comb—

“Jason—” Her voice was shrill now and she yanked on his arm. “I’m your fiancée. Why don’t you talk to me? Why don’t I get to know what’s going on? What you’re doing to find Carly—”

“Because I don’t trust you,” Jason snapped without thinking, and they both stared at each other.

Her eyes filled with tears and her lower lip trembled. “I made a mistake. I—panicked. I wanted to help Carly. She’s my best friend, and I just wanted her found. I was scared you would hurt Ric before he told us where to find her. I thought they’d find her—”

“I might be able to believe that if you hadn’t called them right away. If you hadn’t let them search.” Jason shook his head and zipped the duffel. “The truth is that you didn’t take it that seriously. You figured it was Ric which meant it wasn’t business, and the rules didn’t apply—”

“You asked Taggert for help last year when Elizabeth was missing!” Courtney shot back. “Is she more special than Carly? She was worth breaking the rules for—”

Jason bowed his head. AJ or Edward must have told Courtney about it—or maybe Sonny and Carly had mentioned it. Elizabeth hadn’t known, so— “Asking Taggert wasn’t my first choice,” he said slowly. “But I was desperate, and he could get information I couldn’t. If I hadn’t asked him for help, she’d be dead—”

“How can you judge me because I was scared—”

“You didn’t even give Sonny and me a chance to deal with it,” Jason retorted. He started for the door.

“Oh, so what, you would have called the police later?” She sprinted after him as he went down the hallway. “Damn it, Jason, don’t you dare leave right now—”

He stopped on the stairs. “I have things to do, Courtney. We can deal with this later—”

She scowled. “I bet you make time for your precious Elizabeth. That’s what this is, isn’t it? Sonny told me this was my fault because I’m not her, and you agree. She would have known the rules.”

Jason had no answer for that, so he continued down the stairs. He didn’t even know what to say to Courtney. How to tell her that in the last five days, he’d realized exactly how close he’d come to ruining his life and marrying her.

So, he said nothing and left. In the elevator, his phone beeped, and he looked down at the at text.

im up. ok.

 

He exhaled slowly, gripping the phone more tightly, and a half a smile curved up the corner of his lips, but there was no joy, no happiness. Just relief. They’d made it through another night.  How many more were left?

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Lucky watched through the windows as Lulu attempted to balance a tray of breakfast dishes with one hand. “She’s not good at this, is she?” he asked his aunt.

Bobbie blinked at him, then mindlessly stirred her tea. “No,” she sighed. “She’s cost herself more in broken dishes than she’s probably made in pay, but well…she’s not our first waitress to fail so completely.” She managed a half smile. “Elizabeth was pretty bad, too, remember?”

He only dimly could remember Elizabeth’s early days at Kelly’s, but he did have a few memories of Ruby chewing her out, and Elizabeth complaining that she wasn’t making any money.

“So, hopefully time will solve that problem.” He touched his aunt’s hand. “I know this week has been tough. You’re holding up well.”

“Clinging to desperation, really. I keep hoping something will happen—a lead will come through—someone will know something, have seen something—” She sighed, propping her chin on her hand. “What do you hear at the PCPD?”

“Not much. They asked me to pull a few shifts sitting outside of Elizabeth’s house. Mostly overnight.” Lucky shrugged. “No one ever leaves.” He stifled a yawn. “I was there last night—I was on my way home to get some sleep when I stopped by to see Lu.”

“I’m glad the PCPD is keeping someone on her house. It must be hard for you not to step in, not to do more for her,” Bobbie murmured. “Even though you didn’t end well.”

Lucky hesitated, then nodded. “Cruz mostly takes the day shift—he says Jason has a bodyguard on her. And Jason’s at the house a lot. I know—I know he’ll take care of her.” He was pretty sure of that. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to get along with Jason all that well, but he remembered Jason better before the fire—and he’d liked Jason then. And once he’d stopped trying to keep Elizabeth in his life, it was easier not to see Jason as an enemy.

“He’s trying, but you know Elizabeth. Stubborn to the end.” Bobbie stirred her tea again, but still didn’t take a drink. “How is your first week going?”

“Not great,” Lucky admitted. “The PCPD is basically what I thought it was. There are some okay cops, but most of them are lazy if not outright corrupt. My supervisor is an asshole.” He rolled his shoulders. “He caught a rape before I started and had me come with him to take another statement from her. Aunt Bobbie, he came pretty close to telling her it was her fault. For walking in the park in a short dress.” His throat tightened. “I thought about…talking to Taggert about it. Because he was—he worked on Elizabeth’s case.”

“And, of course, it makes you think of her.” Bobbie tilted her head. “That poor girl. You should talk to him.”

“I’ve been on the job for five days. If I start complaining about my superiors now, I don’t get to come back from that.” Lucky shifted. “Dante and Cruz already hate it here.”

“It’s…not the police department I remember. Particularly when Robert or Anna was in charge and Frisco was on the force.” A ghost of a smile flitted on her lips. “Or Sean. You don’t remember them, do you?”

“No…I don’t.” Lucky sighed. “I know I did this because Baldwin didn’t think I could, but—”

“Don’t give up yet.” Bobbie squeezed his hand. “After we find Carly, things will calm down and maybe you’ll feel more comfortable taking your concerns to Taggert or Mac.”

“Yeah. After we find Carly,” Lucky repeated.

Port Charles Grille

It was maybe the fourth time Brooke Lynn rolled eyes dramatically that Ned noticed the blonde over his daughter’s shoulder.  He froze, taken out of the moment, taken away from an awkward, tense dinner and thrust into the memory of his last meeting with the toxic blonde who now raised a glass of wine in his direction with a smirk.

He looked at his brother, Dillon, and to their other dinner partner, Alexis, and then slowly put his napkin on the table. “I have to step out for a minute and take a phone call.”

“Of course you do,” Brooke muttered. “This is supposed to be a family dinner isn’t it?”

“I’ll be right back,” he promised. He made eye contact first with Faith, then with Alexis who only sighed. She was used to Quartermaine antics and decided it was better to distract the teenagers than argue.

“Tell me how your summer jobs are going.”

He could hear Brooke complaining about Lila’s Kids, the charity summer camp ELQ sponsored at Port Charles Park during the summer. Dillon and Maxie Jones had volunteered as counselors, and Ned was trying to convince Brooke to join them.

Maybe it was a mistake to try to force a relationship with Brooke, but Ned had allowed Lois to take control over her childhood for too long—had acquiesced when Lois wanted to keep her or if Brooke wanted to stay in Bensonhurst. He’d distanced himself from his daughter, telling himself he was saving her from the Quartermaines when the truth was he hadn’t known how to be a father or whether to trust he’d be any good at it.

And maybe now it was too late.

He only had to wait in the reception area outside the restaurant for a few minutes before Faith Roscoe sauntered out, her spaghetti-strapped black dress cut too low at the chest and high on the thigh for the standards of most restaurants.

“I see you’ve missed me,” she murmured as she joined him in the dark corner. “This is a bit too public for me, but maybe—”

“I told you I’m out,” Ned said, his teeth clenched. “I want no part of this—” He grabbed her wrist as it tried to slide up his chest. “Kidnapping Carly wasn’t the plan—”

“It certainly wasn’t,” Faith agreed in her breathless sing-song voice. He’d once found that tone mildly attractive. Now the crazy light in her eyes only repulsed him. “And Ric will pay for it. He’s made some enemies—”

“Did you know about the Zaccharas?” Ned demanded. “About Ric and Sonny? You said you didn’t—”

“If I had known Ric had any other loyalties but me, I would have dealt with it.” Faith pouted and stepped back. “I brought him into this. This was supposed to be our revenge, not his. He’s stolen my moment.” She drew her brows down. “I’ll have to punish him.”

Ned hesitated. “Why don’t you just tell Jason and Sonny where Carly is? Isn’t that punishment enough?”

“I would if I could.” Faith huffed. “Apparently, since Ric discovered he can reproduce, he’s less interested in me. If he’d wanted a kid so badly, I’m sure I could have done…” She waved her hand. “Done something. But he’s obsessed with that little pale princess.” She shook her head. “I’ll have to send him a warning. Remind him to focus. If he can’t focus without her around, I supposed I’ll just have to—”

“Don’t—just leave her out of this, Faith.”

Faith tilted her head. “I thought you wanted to be out of this.” She leaned in, her blood-red rips brushing against his ear as she whispered. “You don’t want your little girl to know how naughty her daddy has been, do you?”

“No.” Ned gritted his teeth, put his hands on her shoulders and set her back a step. “I am out of it, Faith. Take your revenge on Ric. Elizabeth has suffered enough.”

“You’re no fun anymore.” Faith sighed. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep, Neddy. You should remember that.” She tapped her index finger against his chest, the nail polish matching her lips. “You take care of your daughter. I’d hate to see any harm come to her.”

“Don’t you threaten me—”

“Don’t you play with me.” Faith pursed her lips, then smiled. “I’ll let you have your little rebellion. I have other matters to attend to, but when I call, you’d better come running.”

Lansing Home: Living Room

Elizabeth stepped off the steps just as the front door opened and her husband stepped over the threshold. Jason had just slipped out the back door—warned by the guard on Ric that he was headed home. Elizabeth had stayed in Ric’s study an extra moment to make sure it looked as it did when they’d arrived.

Another day of searching had brought them no closer to Carly’s location, and Ric hadn’t done anything to indicate he was moving her. She could see the wheels turning in Jason’s head, and she knew that she’d have to keep her promise. Without any leads by Friday, she’d have to let him send her to California, or at the very least—leave the house.

Ric smiled when he saw her, and she plastered a smile on her face, accepted the kiss to her lips, even as her stomach curled in knots. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” she murmured. “I went to the studio this morning, did some work.” She went into the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water and dropped some ice cubes into it. Water was safe—it was the only thing she allowed herself to drink now, and she only ate food she prepared or bought herself.

If Ric noticed her new penchant for cooking, he had said nothing. He poured himself a glass of iced tea from the pitcher. “You think you’re ready to set a date for that show?”

“Oh…probably by the end of August, I guess.” Elizabeth lifted a shoulder. “I’m not sure I’m ready, but I know you went to a lot of trouble to set it up.” It had seemed sweet at the time, a way to bring her out of the fogginess and lows after her miscarriage.

Fogginess his drugs had caused her.

“If you’re not ready, you’re not ready.” He tipped his head. “You were in the guest room again last night. Are you planning to spend the rest of our marriage in there?” Ric attempted to make the statement light, but she could read the expression in his eyes. He was coming closer to pushing her on this.

And…was that a step she was willing to take? To let Ric…touch her? Sleep with him again? Was it worth the chance to find Carly?

No. No, if Ric pushed her on this, then that was her line in the sand, but still her stomach continued to knot as she forced some of her water down. She set the glass aside. “No,” she said softly. “I’m just…I guess maybe I’m not handling things that well. I—I—Carly is still missing. A-and the cops are outside—I’m surprised the papers haven’t seen it—they’re all over the place about her kidnapping.”

“You said you believed me,” Ric said, his jaw clenched. “Are you lying to me?”

“No.” God. “No,” she said again. “It’s just—I mean…Bobbie is starting to have doubts. She—” Elizabeth chewed on her lip. “She came by—she’s angry that no one has found Carly, and she’s thinking that if you did it, they’d have found her by now. I told her that, and maybe…maybe it means the PCPD is going to look somewhere else.”

“Good.” Ric’s shoulders eased, and he nodded. “Then—”

“I don’t know. It’s just…mostly, I don’t want to have…” She swallowed. “I still love you, but I don’t…have any…” And that was true—had been true even before she’d learned the truth of the monster lurking inside the man she’d married. She knew that was a side effect of the drugs he’d been giving her, at least partially. Would he know that?

Ric exhaled slowly and looked away. “Yeah. I guess that makes sense. Have you thought about talking to someone? Trying to sort through it?”

“I was hoping time would take care of it.” Elizabeth picked up her glass, swiping at the water ring left on the counter. They didn’t have central air conditioning, and the kitchen was always too warm. Her ice had mostly melted. She sipped it again. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe Bobbie can recommend someone.”

“Good.” He leaned forward, kissed her again, and she allowed it. “I’ll let you relax. I’m late tonight, I’m sorry. I missed dinner.”

“It’s okay. I grabbed something at Kelly’s.” Or Cody had brought dinner for them as they sorted through his papers, and Elizabeth had forced some food down only so that Jason would eat as well. She worried about him—was he getting any sleep?

She managed to fall asleep every night though she woke up groggy in the morning as if it was a restless sleep. Her health was all over the place, and she was looking forward to this being over.

“We must have missed each other,” Ric said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He played with a tendril of her hair and she forced herself to remain still, to even look at him with soft eyes. “I know it’s been stressful…with the baby, with Carly—”

“I almost feel like we can’t really begin our lives until we know…until we find her, you know? Until we know who really took her. People will always look at you—”

“We may not be able to stay in Port Charles,” Ric said with a sigh. “Maybe we’ll move closer to Crimson Point and I’ll join my father’s practice after all. We’ll have to see how it goes.” He kissed her again. “I’m going to look over some contracts for the places I found this week. I’m close to signing one.”

“Okay. I’ll probably go to the bed early. Maybe a shower or something.” She accepted one last kiss before he left the kitchen and then reached for the water. She drank it until the glass was empty, then filled it again with more ice and water. She really needed to get a portable air conditioner.

“My next house is going to have central,” she muttered as she started for the stairs, and sighed at the pettiness and smallness of the thought. Carly was being kept captive somewhere, and she was worrying about herself and her own comfort.

Lansing Home: Guest Bedroom

Elizabeth set her water on the bedside and locked the door behind her. She went into the adjoining bathroom with her purse and locked that door as well before letting the shower run.

She dug her phone from its hidden pocket and set the purse on the vanity table. She checked her watch—she was a little early checking in, but she knew Jason worried when Ric was in the same house. He’d probably reached wherever Stan and Spinelli were watching them—and had maybe even seen the scene in the kitchen.

She pressed two until it dialed, then sat on the closed toilet seat, biting at her nails until he answered.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Elizabeth’s eyes watered at the sound of his voice, at the concern. “Hey. Um. He’s thinking about signing a lease for a place, so maybe—”

“Maybe he’s getting ready to move her.”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth moved and sat on the floor next to the shower stall, in the corner furthest from the door. Furthest away from Ric. “That’s—we were in the kitchen—”

“I saw.” His tone was short and clipped.

Her chest tightened, and she let her head slump against the wall. “I’m sorry. I had to let—”

“Elizabeth—”

“He was trying to find out why I’m still in the guest room—you don’t care about this. I’m just—I’m checking in for the night, I’m locked in my room—”

“Hey…” His tone was quieter now, and some of the hum that had been in the background had disappeared, as if he’d left the room. “Are you okay?”

“No,” she admitted. A tear slid down her cheek. “I’m afraid he’s not going to take no for answer for long. I—I told him I didn’t want to, and I think he thought about the drugs, but maybe I should so he doesn’t—”

“No! You don’t—Damn it. I’ll pick you up right now—”

“No, no—” Elizabeth shook her head, even though he couldn’t see her. “No. I’m okay. For tonight. And probably a few more days. I told him I’m going to talk to someone. We’ll find her soon.”

“Friday, Elizabeth—”

“I was thinking maybe we need—” Elizabeth took another deep breath. “I was thinking we might need more cameras. Maybe we didn’t—you said Ric gets up in the middle of the night sometimes. He goes downstairs, but he doesn’t leave.”

“Yeah, we thought maybe he was doing something in the basement, but we’ve looked there—”

“So, tomorrow, we’ll put cameras in the places they’re not now. Um. The living room, the basement, and the other guest room—” The room Ric had quietly said he’d thought would be the nursery when they were ready to think about it. “Can you—maybe you can put a camera or something inside his car.”

“We did that—” There was a pause as Jason apparently went back into the room with the others. She heard him murmuring to others. “Yeah. Stan agrees. Do you think we can do it tomorrow?”

“Maybe. I won’t know until I see him.” She closed her eyes. “I want this to be over. I want to be done with him.”

“Justus has divorce papers waiting,” Jason told her after a minute of silence. “Notice of separation. The second you want out—”

“It’s almost done. It has to be.” Elizabeth sighed. “I should—I should go.” But she didn’t want to. She wanted to stay curled up in this room, listening to Jason’s voice. She knew she was safe when he was on the phone with her.

“Elizabeth—any time of the night—you know I’m here.”

“I do. That’s how I get through it.” She got to her feet, took a look at herself in the mirror that was quickly steaming up. She almost couldn’t recognize herself. “Good night.”

“Good night, Elizabeth.”

It’s the same sad echo when you lie
It’s the same sad echo when you try to be clear
It’s the same as the same sad echo around here
– Echo, Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers

---

Sunday, June 21, 2003

Crimson Point, New York

Zacchara Estate: Trevor Lansing’s Office

It was days like these that Trevor Lansing wished like hell he’d drowned the boy in the bath as a child. Richard had been nothing but a disappointment since the day he’d been born—not even special or important enough for his mother to stick around—

He’d done what he could, but Richard was useless.

“You haven’t stuck to the plan since day one,” Trevor snarled when his son arrived that Sunday. “You had your instructions—”

“It’s working,” his son retorted. “I’m just not following your orders.” Ric scoffed. “I’m the one in the middle of everything—why should I listen to you?”

“I got the PCPD breathing down our necks—you know the Crimson Point police are just chomping at the bit to get to Anthony. Faith Roscoe is calling me, making threats—” Trevor whirled around, stabbed a finger at his phone. “You were supposed to be taking Corinthos down from the inside and you’re so far outside—”

“They’re weak right now. Looking for Carly.” Ric shrugged. “You worry too much. Don’t call my home—”

“What, because I might meet your wife?” Trevor let his eyes open wide. “You think I’m stupid, Richard? You think I don’t know about the lure of a pretty girl? You had one job with the Webber girl. Screw her secrets out of her. Find Morgan’s Achilles heel. Get rid of her, Richard. And—well, you might as well kill the Corinthos woman as well. Cut your losses.”

He scowled, turning back to his desk. Perfectly good plan shot to bloody hell. This was supposed to be his chance—his moment to get revenge on Sonny Corinthos for costing him a good woman, leading Adela to her death, and for him to step out from under Anthony Zacchara’s thumb.

The territory was supposed to be his, and he was damned if Richard was going to blow it for him.

“Elizabeth stays,” Ric said, stubbornly. “Morgan doesn’t care about her.”

“Damn it.” Trevor rubbed his face. “This weakness comes your mother, I just know it. Dead more than two decades and she’s still haunting me.” He sat behind his desk. “Look, I’m sure the girl is nice. I’m sorry you lost your kid. Tough break—”

“It’s Sonny’s fault,” Ric insisted. “He pushed her. He killed my baby. And he’s stealing Elizabeth from me.” He shrugged. “So I’m taking his woman. His kid.” He smirked. “I should have killed the little bastard when I grabbed Carly. No witnesses—”

Trevor stared at his son—for the first time, seeing the light in his eyes as something more insidious than anger. Talking about killing kids—Jesus. “Maybe your idea had merit before the cops got involved, but it’s time to cut your losses,” he repeated. “You know your wife only married you because of the kid. Cut her loose. We’ll give her a nice settlement. Come back home. We’ll figure out another way to get at Corinthos—”

“This will work.” Ric shook his head. “You just have to let me handle it.”  He paused. “The PCPD thinks I did it for you and Anthony. Maybe if they had a lead to investigate—maybe you can find a way to make them think Carly just left.”

“I can try to lay a few false trails.” Trevor waited a moment. “My patience is running thin, Richard. You’ve let Faith Roscoe dangle in the wind, and she’s crazy. You don’t want her thinking you’re the enemy.”

“I’ll take care of Faith,” Ric said. He glared at his father. “Don’t summon me again. Get the cops off my back so I can do what needs to be done.”

Trevor watched him go and shook his head again. Ric had gone off the deep end, and he had a bad feeling that if he didn’t get the idiot under control, Ric would take everyone down with him when he crashed. He had no intention of helping him with any false leads, to tangle himself up more in this catastrophe than he already had.

They would wait for the scheme to explode and deal with the pieces then.

Monday, June 22, 2003

Brownstone: Living Room

It had been more than three days since Carly had vanished from the church, and Bobbie looked as if she had been awake for every single hour of those days. Her dark red hair lay limply against her shoulders, her dark eyes shadowed.

At her side, her niece Lulu was attempting to feed her—a bowl of soup, a cup of coffee lay untouched on the table.

“I don’t understand how he could have taken her and not have led you to her yet,” Bobbie said, her eyes rimmed with red. “Taggert tells me Ric has barely left the house—only went down to Crimson Point yesterday—no stops. No evidence he’s gone to see her.”

“I know,” Jason said, dragging his hands through his hair. “It doesn’t make sense. I don’t know what to do next.”

“You’re sure he acted alone?” Lulu asked, unable to control herself anymore. No one ever asked for her input, and she was eager to try to help. To do something for the aunt that had taken her in without protest after her mother had fallen…. ill.

“Yes,” Jason snapped, tired of defending himself even to a kid. “I am.”

“Hey.” Lulu held up her hands. “Listen. I’m just trying to help. I believe you. I just—” She bit her lip. “A girl listens. And pays attention, you know? Maybe he took Carly on his own, but I mean—has he been working against you guys alone the whole time?”

Jason frowned at her. “What?”

“He’s been in Port Charles since November,” Lulu pointed out. “I remember when he came to Kelly’s because it was my first week and I broke like eighteen plates. Liz was trying to figure out how much to take out of my paycheck when he rented the room.”

“Odd that he went to Kelly’s to rent a room,” Bobbie said, tilting her head. “I remember thinking that then. He dressed in Italian suits, custom made shoes but lived at Kelly’s. He threw a lot of money around—remember?”

“Yeah,” Lulu nodded. “At Mrs. Hardy’s service, I remember he handled all the arrangements, which I thought was nice because Liz was so upset. She argued later because he had paid for a lot of it up front and then wouldn’t take any money when it was settled.”

“He came to Kelly’s because of Elizabeth,” Bobbie murmured. “He was pursuing her almost immediately. Oh…” She pressed her fingers to her lips. “He targeted her.”

“Because of me.” Jason looked away. “Yeah. I tried to tell her that, but—”

“She wouldn’t have listened.” Bobbie got to her feet. “He comes from money, that’s clear. But I’m trying to think of anyone else he’s done legal work for—”

“Well, he helped Ned,” Lulu said. “Remember? They had meetings at Kelly’s. I don’t know what about—Liz always told me not to eavesdrop, but they had paperwork and stuff. And wasn’t Ned pretty pissed at you guys last year?”

“The warehouse.” Jason sat down, put his head in his hands. “Yeah. Kristina, his fiancée was killed. And he’s never liked Sonny.”

“Ned might know something. Maybe a property or just—something.” Bobbie clenched her fists in her lap as Jason’s cell phone rang.

He took it out of his pocket and exhaled slowly, answering it with some relief. “Hey. Yeah. Okay. Thanks. Look, we’ve been talking, and I think we’ve—” He stopped, his brow creasing in frustration. “Elizabeth, don’t—Fine. Yeah, I’ll talk to you in an hour—okay, no, I’ll meet you there.”

He stared at the closed phone for a long moment. “Ric was out looking at office spaces this afternoon,” he said. “She searched the house again. Nothing. Nothing we missed yesterday.”

“There’s nothing in the house,” Lulu said, with some irritation. “Why is she still there? We should just force her to leave. She’s so selfish—”

Jason scowled at her, and Lulu blanched at the banked fury in his eyes. “What?” she said defensively. “She’s making everyone worry about her instead of Carly—”

“She’s doing this for Carly,” Bobbie said, touching Lulu’s hand.

“I get that, but it’s just stupid.” Lulu shrugged. “She knows that as soon as she leaves the house, she’s going to be put on the plane to California. This way, she gets to stay in the middle of it and have everyone look at her.” She pressed her lips together. “Everyone thinks it, Jason, I’m not the only one—”

“Everyone,” Jason repeated, getting to his feet. “How many people are speculating about Elizabeth where anyone, including her psycho husband, can hear?”

Feeling a bit chastised now, Lulu hastily tried to take it back. “That’s not what I mean. I mean—I just—I went to check on Michael this morning, and I was talking to Courtney, and she’s—she’s so worried about Carly, and I mean—I’m right, aren’t I? I mean we’re talking about Liz, not Carly. Liz made her choice. It’s like Courtney said—”

“I’m going,” Jason said to Bobbie, tuning Lulu out. “We’ve got eyes and ears on Ric. I’m not going to rest until she’s home, Bobbie.”

“Don’t kill yourself.” Bobbie got to her feet, embraced her daughter’s best friend. “You need to keep your strength up. Eat. Rest. Take care of yourself.”

“I will.” Jason flashed an irritated glance at Lulu before he left.

“He’s just mad because I’m right,” Lulu complained. “I get Liz is trying to help, but now look, Jason’s meeting her at the hospital instead of looking—”

“What is Jason supposed to do?” Bobbie snapped. “Ric is the one who took her. We know he acted alone. He’s watching Ric—” Her voice broke. “And if Ric doesn’t lead us to Carly, then we know she’s—she’s somewhere for us to find, and maybe he’ll—”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Bobbie,” Lulu said miserably. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I know Jason is trying hard. I’m just—I don’t know. Something is so weird about all of this. Like, how can Carly have just vanished? It’s like she has to be in the house because that’s the only place Ric has been, but she can’t be.” She sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I probably shouldn’t have told Jason what Courtney’s been saying about Liz. It’s probably not helping.”

“No, it’s not,” Bobbie said, but then she looked at the meal her niece had been trying to convince her to eat before Jason’s arrival. “We’re doing everything we can right now,” she told Lulu. “But I should take my own advice.” She got to her feet. “I think I’m going to go make some pasta for dinner. I’m suddenly starving.” She would need all the energy she could muster to get through the next few days.

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Courtney stepped off the bottom step and frowned as she watched her brother take another drink. She knew for a fact that the bottle of bourbon at the mini bar had been replaced three times since Carly had gone missing.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” she asked, irritated. Why the hell wasn’t he out looking like Jason? Jason was trying to find Carly and had barely been back to their penthouse while her idiot brother sat in this room, drinking himself into a stupor.

“Don’t talk to me about having enough,” Sonny muttered as he tossed back the entire tumbler of bourbon. “There’s not enough alcohol in the world.”

“Michael’s asleep,” Courtney said, folding her arms. “If you even care.”

Sonny whirled around, his dark eyes bright with anger. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that you’re not doing anything to help Carly,” Courtney snarled. “You’re not cooperating with the police, you’re not taking meetings, you’re not even talking to Michael—you’re just drinking yourself into oblivion.”

“I’m not doing anything to help?” Sonny shot back, waving the glass at her, weaving slightly. “Fuck you. I don’t cooperate with the police—”

“Oh, yeah, because God forbid Big Bad Sonny Corinthos asks for help!”

“You’re a dumb little girl, you know that?” he squinted at her, then dismissed her by turning back to the bar. He reached for the bourbon.

She rushed across the room and jerked the bottle out of his grasp. “You keep trying to make this my fault, Sonny. Like I did what I did to hurt you and Jason—”

“No, I honestly think you thought you were helping. That’s what makes you an idiot.” Sonny sighed and reached for the vodka instead. “I knew you were an idiot. That’s why I told Jason to stay away from you.” He shook his head. “I told him you couldn’t do this.”

“But Jason ignored you. He loves me,” Courtney said, with a confidence she no longer felt. “He chose me—”

“He wanted to prove me wrong,” Sonny said. He bypassed pouring the alcohol this time, and just drank straight from the bottle. “Wanted to prove everyone wrong.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Wanted to prove he was his own man, that he didn’t always put me first.” Sonny shook his head. “I should have let him tell her. This is my fault. If I had just told her the truth, she would have stayed.”

“Are—” Courtney frowned. “What did you lie to Carly about? She didn’t leave you, Sonny. She was kidnapped.” With disdain dripping, she continued, “Or are you too drunk to remember that?”

“If she had stayed, you wouldn’t have been there.” Sonny sank onto the sofa, leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “She wouldn’t have called the cops.”

Her blood boiled as she realized exactly who the hell her brother was talking about. “Oh, right, because perfect sainted Elizabeth knows your life,” she growled. “She’s the one who couldn’t handle it. I’m still here. I got kidnapped, didn’t I? Did I run to someone else? Did I leave Jason?”

“No.” Sonny met her eyes. “You got kidnapped for five hours. Not weeks. Not trapped in the dark.” He closed his eyes. “I should have been a better friend. I should have explained it to him. Trapped in the dark. You do anything to make the dark go away.”

“You’re too drunk to talk to,” she muttered, starting across the room. She turned around. “Right now, you’re blaming me. You’re blaming Elizabeth for not staying. Me for calling the police. Look in the goddamn mirror, Sonny. The only person here to blame is you!”

Courtney stabbed a finger at him. “You put Carly in danger, Sonny. Just like you do to everyone in your life. How lucky are we that Michael wasn’t grabbed, too? You couldn’t protect Carly any more than you could protect him. He’s traumatized and you’re down here getting drunk. Some fucking father and husband you turned out to be.”

She slammed the door behind her as she left the penthouse, the door frame cracking.

Sonny opened his eyes and blanched. “You’re not here. You’re not here,” he told himself, squeezing his eyes shut. But when he opened them again, Lily just smiled at him. That sweet smile.

“You couldn’t protect me either, Sonny. You’re not supposed to be a father.” Lily tilted her head. “You should have known better.”

General Hospital: Monica’s Office

Elizabeth stared at the lab report and swallowed hard. “How-how long did you say you could trace the…” She looked up at met Monica’s kind but worried eyes. “Not…not just a month…”

“The hair follicle test suggests it’s around January. Not in great doses—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes as Monica continued, remembering the home cooked dinners he’d made her once he’d moved into his own apartment in February. The spontaneous pastries and treats he had brought to work. The wine he’d brought to her the night her grandmother had been buried.

“Why…why would he—” She swallowed hard. “Why would someone use Valium to drug someone? You said the doses weren’t—”

“It’s used to treat anxiety mostly,” Monica told her. “Panic disorders—” She pressed her lips together. “I don’t know why he started to drug you back then. To keep you calm?”

“I guess.” Elizabeth slid her fingers over the report. “I haven’t felt well since my grandmother passed away. I’ve—I’ve had trouble sleeping. Eating.”

“He might have been trying to help you at first, but at some point—” Monica hesitated. “It’s possible you’ve developed a tolerance, and he had to keep increasing the dosage—”

Her breath seized. “Oh, God, is this why I had the miscarriage? Does this—”

“Valium use during the first trimester can cause malformations, defects.” Monica shook her head. “But not necessarily a miscarriage, though it’s likely—” She bit her lip.

“It’s likely for the best that it happened because my baby would have been damaged.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “It just never stops. He’s been drugging me for months—I nearly died—and if our child had lived—” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “What—what happens next? I mean—I don’t know—I don’t understand it—He let me drive—I could have killed someone on Saturday—”

“Elizabeth—” Monica stopped as her intercom beeped. “Yes?”

“Ah, Dr. Quartermaine, your son is here. He said he’s expected.”

“Oh, right, I asked Jason to meet here because Ric’s at the house.” Elizabeth sighed.

“I can have him wait, Elizabeth, while we talk—”

“I’d just have to go over this with him—he knows I’m here for my results.” And even if she didn’t want to tell him—somehow, she knew she had to. She couldn’t live with this on her own.

“Send him in.”

A moment later, Jason entered the office, his expression hesitant. “I didn’t mean to interrupt—I could still wait outside—”

“No, it’s…” Elizabeth handed him the lab report, knowing Jason would understand it. “It turns out he turned me into a drug addict.” She looked back at Monica. “Because I can’t sleep. And—I feel—” She held out her hand which shook slightly. “I think I’m in withdrawal.”

Jason scowled. “He’s been drugging you since January?”

“Well, what I’d like to do, Elizabeth, is to check you into the hospital overnight and we could talk about some things you could do—” Monica nodded. “But I can see from your expression that’s not going to happen.”

“Ric would find out if I was in the hospital overnight,” she told her. “He’s leaving the house more. Looking for office space, but maybe he’s looking for a place to move Carly.”

Jason grimaced. “Elizabeth, this is about your health—”

“We knew Ric was drugging me. We knew it wasn’t just on Friday,” Elizabeth interrupted. “This doesn’t change anything—”

“Your symptoms could get worse, Elizabeth,” Monica pressed. “They can last up to two weeks—” She bit off her words. “I can’t watch you walk out of here, knowing that you risk that animal doing this again—”

“Keep the lab report.” Elizabeth took it back from Jason and handed it to Monica. “Because I might—we might need proof later. But—this can’t keep going on, right? He’ll move Carly this week. We’ll find her. And then, I promise, Monica, anything you want me to do—I’ll do it.”

Monica scowled. “Elizabeth—”

“I’ve made it this far.” Elizabeth took a deep breath, fought back the urge to just scream at them both. She was a goddamn adult and could make her own decisions. “Thank you. I know you’re worried.” She looked at Jason. “I know you’re both worried. But knowing that he’s been doing this to me—I have to help take him down. I have to be part of it. I can’t just fly away to California.”

“If he hasn’t moved Carly this week,” Jason said slowly, “we’ll figure out something else. But this is it, Elizabeth. After Friday—” He swallowed hard, likely upset at the idea that Carly could continue to be missing for that long— “We try something new.”

“Thank you.” She looked back to Monica. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Monica sighed and looked at her watch. “I have to make my rounds. You can use the office as long as you need to. And keep my number on speed dial, Elizabeth.”

With another unsure sigh, Monica left.

“I know you don’t agree,” Elizabeth said when she was gone. “But—”

“The only reason I’m not throwing you over my shoulder and dragging you kicking and screaming onto a plane is because you’d just turn around and come right back.” Jason swallowed. “I don’t know if Carly is even alive, Elizabeth. And every minute you’re in that house, you might end up dead, too—”

“She’s alive.” Elizabeth touched his arm. “She has to be. There’s no reason for Ric to do anything to her. I think—I think he’s trying to replace our baby.”

“What?” Jason demanded, his face draining of color. “What do you mean?”

“Before—before we moved,” she said. “When I came home after losing the baby—he wanted to try again. Immediately. For a couple of days, it was all he could talk about. I think he thought I’d leave him.” She sighed. “He was right. I only married him because I was pregnant, scared, and alone. But then he stopped talking about it. And he bought the house. And now…I basically told him I don’t want to get pregnant again. I don’t sleep in the same room. And he keeps telling me everything will be fine—that we’ll have our family and I’ll understand.”

Jason sat down in one of Monica’s chairs. “You think—”

“I think he’s got Carly somewhere—alive—and he’s planning on taking her baby. It would be justice. Taking Sonny’s child because he thinks Sonny took ours.” Joke was on Ric—Ric had murdered their child long before Elizabeth was pushed down those steps. “I don’t know who pushed me—”

“That’s who I should be looking for. I should have been looking for them all along.” He stood back up. “Because the police report said you were pushed, they just didn’t have any suspects.”

‘The report—” Elizabeth shook her head. “No, Ric said the police didn’t—” She huffed. “Of course, he lied about that, too. He said the police weren’t interested—but they did look into it.”

“Taggert likes you,” Jason said plainly. “And he thought he could get Sonny. But Sonny was caught on camera in the parking lot. He questioned Sonny, but—he seemed to think it wasn’t likely Sonny would use you to get at Ric.”

“I never thought he would.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “But someone did. I—I don’t know why I haven’t really—could finding that out help us find out where Carly is?”

“I know Ric kidnapped her on his own, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been working with someone since he came to Port Charles. “Jason hesitated. “What do you know about Ned working with Ric?”

“Ned?” she repeated. “I mean—I think Ric handled some property stuff for ELQ after Sonny and Carly fired him—” She hesitated. “But Ned hates you. And—And I know Ned has…worked with Faith Roscoe. She…. really hates me.”

“Faith?” Jason shook his head. “Why?”

“Because—” Elizabeth looked away. “Because I—of Ric. I don’t know if they were—I don’t know. But she’s been…. around.”

“Okay.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay. I can look into them. Is—is Cody working out okay?”

“Yeah, he’s great. And it’s been—” Her throat felt thick as she tried to continue. “I’ve felt a lot safer knowing he was right outside if I needed him. Thank you.”

“I wish like hell you’d just leave, but I don’t have time to argue that again. I have to meet Justus and Sonny—” Jason hesitated. “You’ll call or text me in an hour?”

“Yes.” Elizabeth nodded. “I promise.” She picked up her purse. “I should get going. If I get home first, I can order dinner in and not have to make excuses.”

Jason followed her out, but they split up at the end of the hall. She took the elevator down to the lobby, and he took the stairs.

Corinthos Penthouse: Hallway

When Jason stepped off the elevator, he was surprised to find Justus waiting outside the door with Max. He frowned. “Is there something wrong?”

“Sonny isn’t letting me in,” Justus said with a sigh. “He’s…Max said he’s having a rough day.”

They looked at Max, who just shrugged. “Miss Matthews was over earlier, and they had words.” Jason scowled at the thought of his fiancée—whatever good sense he and Sonny had attributed to Courtney had disappeared since Friday night and her call to the cops.

Courtney had done nothing but be a nuisance for four days straight.

Jason stepped past Max and knocked. “Sonny—”

Sonny jerked the door open, his black hair disheveled, his eyes red. “Did you find her?”

“No, but—”

“Don’t come back until you do.”

He slammed the door. Jason glanced at Justus, who looked as troubled as Jason felt. It had taken only days for Sonny to hit the edge of what he could handle—

And Jason wasn’t sure he had the time or energy to drag Sonny back from the abyss.

“Is—anyone home at my place?” Jason said hesitantly. The fact that he was dreading the thought of facing Courtney told him he had some decisions to make when this was all over.

“Miss Matthews went to the Brownstone. She took Michael to see his grandmother when he woke up from his nap.”

“We can go to my place,’ Jason told Justus.

“It’s fine,” Justus said, with a wave of his hand. “I just wanted to let you know that we got the injunction against the search warrants of the commercial properties. It’s going to give us some breathing room to get things in order, but there’s a hearing next week.”

“By then, this should be over. “Jason didn’t want to think about how horrible it would be for all of them to be living in this nightmare much longer.

“If it isn’t,” Justus continued, “the odds are that they’ll grant the warrant. Should—should I let Johnny O’Brien continue taking care of what needs to be done?”

“Yeah.” They looked towards Sonny’s closed door. “Yeah.  Johnny and Tommy know what to do. You—you can touch base with me for a few days. I think we need to give Sonny some space.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

The room was dark—the only light slipped through the curtains he’d drawn across his windows. Sonny sat on the floor in front of the unlit fireplace, his knees drawn up, a bottle of whiskey at his side—he’d gone through the vodka once Courtney had taken Michael to Bobbie’s and moved on to what was left.

Courtney was right. They were all right. He was a drunk who couldn’t protect his family. Why did he think he could have children? Why did he think God would stop punishing him?

“That’s right,” Lily said, her smile warm and encouraging. She slid the whiskey closer to him. “That’s right, Sonny. You will never be a father. Everything you touch dies. You’re poison.”

“You’re not real,” Sonny muttered, bringing the whiskey to his lips, desperate to make her go away, even if he had to black out to do it.

“No, I’m dead. And it’s your fault. It’s your fault your son is dead. All of your sons.” A smile spread across Lily’s face—a malevolent smile that his sweet wife had never had in real life. Was he being haunted? Was he being tortured?  “For all you know, Carly is already dead. So, drink up Sonny, until you’re too drunk to care.”

Its just that we stayed, too long
In the same old sickly skin
I’m pulled down by the undertow
I never thought I could feel so low
Oh darkness I feel like letting go
– Full of Grace, Sarah McLachlan

---

Saturday, June 20, 2003

Lansing Home: Panic Room

 Despite her best efforts, Carly spent most of that first day dozing off and on, fighting the vestiges of the drug he’d given her. Ric had only come in once that morning to bring her a daily ration of food—she suspected he was never sure when Elizabeth might be home and didn’t want to be caught coming and going.

It reassured her that the twit wasn’t involved. Elizabeth had terrible taste in men, but she wasn’t evil. If only she could somehow get Elizabeth’s attention—if she could force the room open—

When she was awake, Carly was planning. She could try to knock Ric out, but what if she killed him and then no one ever found him? She might end up chained in this room forever—

And so she spent time trying to pick a lock, promising herself it would be the first skill that she learned when she got out of here. Because she would get out of here. She knew Jason and Sonny would be looking for her—and she didn’t believe Ric that no one suspected him.

Last night had been hazy, but Carly had been awake enough to see the monitors—to know that Jason and Sonny had crashed through the door—that only the arrival of the PCPD had made them leave. They would be back. And she would be ready for them.

She sat cross-legged on the tiny cot, having exchanged her evening gown for a pair of stretchy black pants and a long-sleeved gray shirt, protection against the artificial chill created by the air conditioning and concrete walls. She stared at the monitors, tracking comings and goings and the lack thereof.

She had watched as Elizabeth woke up and ate a breakfast Ric made for her—Carly had screamed at her until her voice was hoarse because she had seen him dumping pills in the eggs, in the hollandaise—in her orange juice—everywhere. Why was he still drugging his wife?

Elizabeth had left and then hadn’t returned for the entire day, but Ric still didn’t come inside. He sat in a room looked like it was meant to be a study at a desk piled with paperwork like he was a real lawyer.

The panic room also had screens that looked outside and showed her the front of the house and street. She’d seen the patrol car parked all night—she’d watched Jason’s familiar figure approach that morning—still dressed in the tuxedo from the wedding—then leave. The patrol car had left shortly after, only to return around five that afternoon.

She’d seen Elizabeth’s car pull away—and now—now it was returning. Her screen was in black and white, the quality was horrible—but Carly had made fun of the battered gold Nissan Sentra enough with Courtney to recognize it when it pulled into a driveway.

Carly narrowed her eyes as another car drove down the street, parked just past the house with no one exiting. Elizabeth got out of her car, looked towards the other one—and then went towards the house.

Something warm spread through her chest. She recognized the car as one that the guards drove with the darkened windows. Sonny had someone following Elizabeth. And Elizabeth knew it. Elizabeth knew Ric was guilty. Carly might have an ally.

If only she could figure out how to contact her, to get her attention.

Lansing Home: Front Step

Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder one last time to the darkened car where Cody sat guard and to the patrol car out front. She didn’t recognize this officer, but it was good to see the PCPD hadn’t given up.

She could do this. She could go back into this house as if she didn’t know Ric was a kidnapping monster who had nearly killed her that morning.

Her phone was tucked securely in her purse, inside a hidden lining that she herself had ripped open. She’d have to find a way to keep it on her person—too bad it was summer and baggy clothes wouldn’t work as well.

Elizabeth pushed open the door and looked around the living room, towards the stairs. Somewhere in this house there had to be a clue to Carly’s kidnapping. How was she supposed to get Ric out of the house tomorrow so Jason could come in and tear it apart? So his men could plant devices to track Ric?

She’d just have to do figure it out. No way around it.

She heard Ric’s steps on the stairs and arranged her features into a smile. She knew how to fake happiness—she was a master of that at least. “Hey.”

“Hey. I thought you’d be home sooner.” Ric crossed the room and kissed her cheek. His lips drifted towards her mouth, but Elizabeth shied away. “What’s wrong?”

“The patrol car is still out there,” Elizabeth said with a grimace. “And I just keep thinking about Carly. Wherever she is, you know?”

“I’m sure she’ll turn up.” Ric narrowed his eyes. “Sonny has a lot of enemies, I’m sure you know that.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve been shot at, kidnapped, and nearly blown up, so…” She lifted her shoulder in a careless shrug. “Still, she’s…she’s going to have a baby.” And the distress wasn’t forced now. “She’s due only a little before I would have been—”

“Of course, I should have realized.” She let him draw her into an embrace, her heart pounding. If she hadn’t known—if she hadn’t overdosed that morning—if no one had come to the house last night—God, would she have suspected him?

If she hadn’t had proof, would she still believe Jason and Sonny’s certainty as she did now? She wasn’t entirely confident that she would have seen through him.

After all, she hadn’t before despite all the evidence to the contrary. She had deluded herself into thinking this man could be saved. That she could be the one to save him.

“And then when I went to see Emily,” Elizabeth said, drawing back, “I felt really sick.”

There—she didn’t imagine the way his eyes focused on her. The anxiety in the dark depths. “Oh?” Even his voice had risen just slightly in pitch.

“Yeah, I—I was dizzy. Tired. And sick to my stomach.” She set her hand against her abdomen, still feeling unsettled. “You know the Quartermaines—Emily made me talk to her mother—”

“You didn’t—you didn’t go to the hospital, did you?” Ric asked with a nervous laugh. “I mean, you would have called me if it was serious.”

“No, Monica looked at me at the mansion,” she lied. “But Monica said I had a bit of a stomach virus. I guess that explains why I felt so awful last night. On top of Carly being kidnapped and everyone saying all those terrible things—” Elizabeth managed a half smile. “So, I’m—I’m going to stay home tomorrow. Rest.”

“Oh.” Ric drew his brows together. “Are you sure it’s that serious? I know how hard you’ve been working on the show—”

“It’s only one day,” Elizabeth said, clasping her purse tightly to her. Twenty minutes before she was supposed to check in with Jason. “And it’s not like I’d get a lot done—”

“Yeah, well—” Ric stopped when his own cell phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket and scowled. “It’s my father.”

“Your father—” Elizabeth blinked. “I thought you weren’t in touch—”

“I’m not.” Ric opened the phone. “Dad—What? No. I—I don’t know what—” He was quiet for a long moment, his expression like granite. “Yeah. Yeah, fine.”  He closed the phone and tossed it on the coffee table. “I have to…I have to go down to Crimson Point tomorrow.”

Crimson Point was just outside of New York City, Elizabeth knew that. “I thought your dad lived in New York City—”

“He does,” Ric snapped, then smoothed out his features. “Sorry. I just—he has a client in Crimson Point. He wants me to meet with him. He’s, ah, been trying to get me into his practice.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth nodded. “Did—did you want me to go—I mean, I haven’t met—”

“No,” he said sharply. Then he took a deep breath. “You said you needed to rest, so I guess—” He rolled his shoulders. “It’s fine. Why don’t you go lay down? I’ll bring you something to eat—”

“I already ate with Monica and Emily,” Elizabeth said quickly. “They had Cook make me something gentle for my stomach flu.” Which was partially true.  “I—I’m probably going to be up and down all night, so I thought I’d stay in the guest room again—it has its own bathroom.”

Ric tilted his head. “You haven’t wanted to sleep in the same room with me since we got here,” he said quietly. “Is there something I should know?”

“I—” Elizabeth licked her lips. “It’s all just…. a lot,” she said, flustered. “So much has happened these last few weeks and you know, Dr. Meadows said it might be…it be might be sometime before I was ready—”

“I thought you got a clean bill of health,” Ric said flatly. He stepped towards her.

“I’m scared,” Elizabeth admitted without thinking. “I mean…. of getting pregnant again. I—don’t want to lose another baby.”

And that at least was true. Or it had been the truth up until the night before. Now, she was terrified of having to play that part of being Ric’s wife. Would she have the courage?

How far was she willing to go?

“Ah.” Ric’s eyes cleared. Softened. A calculated move—and Elizabeth wondered how she had ever seen sincerity in those eyes. “I understand. I’m sorry, Elizabeth. We can take as much time as you need.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you. Everything I do is for you.”

And the truly horrifying thing was that Elizabeth believed him.

Sunday, June 21, 2003

PCPD: Interrogation Room

Taggert scowled as Justus laid out the statement he had already delivered to the newsroom of the Port Charles Herald. “What the hell is this?”

“This is my appeal to the media,” Sonny said, leaning back in the hard, wooden chair.  At dawn, Sonny had woken up to the pounding on his door and the demands of Taggert and Capelli to come down to the station voluntarily or be arrested.

Sonny had agreed only because he wanted to keep the PCPD focused on him while Jason did whatever needed to be done. Jason had briefly brought him up to date—there was no sign of Carly, but Elizabeth had remained adamant about staying even after nearly overdosing on Valium Ric had surely slipped her.

Sonny believed Jason’s theory—that the house held some sort of clue as to Carly’s whereabouts or Ric wouldn’t have bothered drugging Elizabeth, but he was less confident that Elizabeth would be valuable. He had been touched, oddly, that during her drugged stupor, she’d insisted on staying. That her loyalty to them had surfaced then despite neither Jason nor Sonny really having given her much reason to believe in them over the last eight months.

But Ric was a dangerous sociopath who had already proven once that Elizabeth’s health was less important to him than getting his revenge on Sonny.

Sonny had hoped that by coming to the station without an argument that Taggert would give him the benefit of the doubt and start treating him like the victim—his wife was missing after all.

“The papers are already dogging us—it’s all we can do to keep them from interfering as it is,” Taggert snarled. Sonny was too tired to be amused by the idea that the only reason Lansing’s name hadn’t been leaked to the papers as a person of interest was because of the cops.

Sonny had put the Herald on an embargo, threatening to buy them out and close the paper down if Ric’s name was publicized. The last thing he and Jason wanted a bunch of reporters dogging Ric’s steps. Bad enough the PCPD was involved.

“Well, then stop going after my client and find his wife and we won’t have to tell the media how you’re screwing up,” Justus retorted. “You’re wasting our time here, Taggert—”

“I’m trying to find his wife and he’s not cooperating—”

“You searched my home, you’re trying to search my financial records, my business—” Sonny waved off Justus’s irritated expression. “Do you really think I’ve got my wife stashed somewhere? Look at me, Taggert. My pregnant wife is missing. My son saw the man who did it. And you let him stay in his home, dragging me down to the station instead.”

“I’m not perfect,” Sonny continued with a shake of his head. “I’m not even close, but you know me better than that. Tell me why I’m here and that sick son of a bitch isn’t.”

Taggert hesitated, sat back. “Because Michael is the only link to Ric,” he admitted. “He’s a small boy who was clearly upset. We searched Ric’s home. There’s no evidence he ever left—” He held up a hand. “Look, you want to me to level with you, Corinthos? I’m working my ass off to find Carly. Look at me, I ain’t slept either.” He shoved himself to his feet. “But what do I got? I got Carly being violently kidnapped from your partner’s wedding—where everyone knew she’d be.”

Taggert paused. “I got your kid telling me it was Ric Lansing, and when we get to the house—there’s no sign Ric ever left, and yet his wife looks like she’s been drugged. She’ll never hold up as an alibi. But Carly’s not in the house. Even if we take Ric in—”

“You don’t necessarily find Carly.” Sonny’s mouth was dry as he considered that for the first time, he and Taggert were actually on the same side—to a certain extent.  “Yeah, I get that.”

“Of course Lansing did this. Of course that’s what I’m trying to prove. But why? That’s how I’m going to get him. We’re following him. He’s going to lead us to Carly eventually. But I gotta use all my sources, and my sources tell me this is about your business.”

Sonny snorted. “That’s what it always comes back to, isn’t it—”

“Ric Lansing’s father is Trevor Lansing, lead counsel for Anthony Zacchara,” Taggert cut in sharply. “You’re telling me that I’m crazy for thinking Zacchara might have something to do with your pregnant wife going missing?”

Sonny exhaled slowly. Closed his eyes. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Anthony Zacchara,” he repeated. “You fucking with me, Taggert?”

Justus hissed. “Sonny—”

“I am being one hundred percent honest with you, Corinthos. I can see from your face that you get it.” Taggert slapped his hand on the table. “Look, you know I want you behind bars. It’s all I can think about. But Carly doesn’t deserve this. So give that bastard whatever he wants so you can bring your wife home.”

“I would,” Sonny said slowly as something crawled inside his chest, wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed. “If I knew what he wanted.” He met Taggert’s eyes. “If Zacchara is involved, this is the first I’m hearing about it.”

Taggert furrowed his brow. “You telling me you didn’t know Ric Lansing was tied to them?”

“No—I—” Sonny shook his head. Had to stop himself from answering. The truth that he hadn’t done nearly enough leg work into Ric’s past. The man had showed up when things had been so chaotic—Jason and Brenda had been on trial for murder. And by the time they realized something was wrong—

Benny had been gone—and Ric had been wreaking havoc with Carly, trying to blackmail Courtney, then kidnapping her—getting Elizabeth pregnant—staging the scene at the Vineyard—

It had never occurred to Sonny that this might be anything but personal. And God, what if they were wrong about why Ric had taken Carly? What if he had kidnapped her and given her right to the Zaccharas on Friday night?

Sonny exhaled slowly. “Am I under arrest?” he said mildly. “I’d like to be at home with my son.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Kelsey Joyce listened with half an ear as Scott and Mac Scorpio discussed the open cases and investigations in Organized Crime—Major Crimes was next, and she wasn’t all that interested in mafia crime.

She frowned when she heard the word kidnapping and tuned back in. “You have a kidnapping case being investigated by Organized Crime?”

“Yes.” Mac focused on her. “The Corinthos kidnapping. We’re—we’re thirty-six hours in. No leads.” He grimaced at Scott. “And you know Floyd is on my ass.”

“Of course, he is,” Scott offered with a smirk. He looked at Kelsey. “Floyd is currently running for re-election.” Turning back to Mac, “I don’t know what he’s worried about. I don’t even know who’s running against him.”

“Yeah, well, we screw up a high-profile case like this, and someone might crawl out of the woodwork. Deadline to get on the ballot isn’t until September.” Mac sighed. “It’s still early, but Capelli and Taggert have some leads—”

Kelsey put up her hand to interrupt the commissioner. “I don’t have anything in my files about a kidnapping case. I should be copied on this—”

“Why?” Scott said, in a tone that advised her not to argue. “It’s Sonny Corinthos—”

“It’s Carly Corinthos, a pregnant woman,” she said, calmly. “I’m not saying Major Crimes should be running it, I’m just saying that we should be involved. OCU is bound to have tunnel vision.”

“Tunnel vision?” Scott repeated with a snort as the commissioner looked amused. “Listen, Kelsey—this is only your first day—you’re here as a courtesy—”

“Your conviction rates in Port Charles for both Major Crimes and Organized Crimes are at an all-time low,” Kelsey interrupted, her tone cool. She hadn’t volunteered to come in on a Sunday for shits and giggles. She’d spent the hours since being hired researching the new job she’d started. “You put too much resources into OCU, and MCU is usually left to flounder.”

“Listen—”

But now the commissioner sighed, the amusement having left his face. “She’s not wrong, Scott. Corinthos was just in here waving around a media statement that said the same thing.” He focused on Kelsey. “Taggert requested some help from the MCU, and I shot him down. He wanted another uniform to do some legwork.”

“You should agree to it. It would be a good sharing of the resources and reassure the MCU that you value them.” Kelsey held out her hand. “And I’d like a copy of the file as well.”

“No need,” Scott said. “I’m taking point on the Corinthos—”

“Am I in charge of the MCU or not, Scott?” Kelsey asked. Her heart was racing, her palms were sweaty, but she was determined not to let them see her as a weak little girl they could push around. “If the MCU is involved in a case, my office gets copied on the files. That’s the policy. I’m just asking you to enforce it.”

“Fair enough.” Scott raised his brow. “Anything else?”

“No.” Kelsey exhaled slowly. “No, we can move on. Thank you.”

Kelly’s: Lucky’s Room

Lucky set the phone back on the bar and stared at it for a long moment. The next morning, when he reported for duty, he would be sitting in a patrol car outside of the Lansing home.

He knew that his aunt would be happy that Lucky was working the case, and part of him was glad to be able to reassure her with any news he could offer.

But he was supposed to be watching Ric Lansing and keeping an eye on Elizabeth.

He had tried so hard to avoid Elizabeth these last nine months—since she’d helped him get his father out of jail. For nearly a year after the last brainwashing, he’d gone through the motions with her, pretending they might be able to get things back to where they were—and then pretending they could be friends.

But Elizabeth had always known him better than anyone else and there were times that he slipped—times when he didn’t remember something he was supposed to—and he didn’t want to explain to anyone that Helena Cassadine had not only manipulated his emotions, she had made Swiss cheese of his memory.

His memories of Elizabeth and of the last three years, were hazy and insubstantial—and every time Elizabeth looked at him, he was afraid she could see how empty he was now.

But she was in trouble, Taggert told him. And Emily had given him some cryptic hints that something was even more deeply wrong in Elizabeth’s new marriage.

So…he would look out for her. She deserved that from him, at least. After everything he’d put her through since his ignominious return from the dead, she deserved whatever help he could give her.

Lansing Home: Front Porch

Elizabeth waited until Ric’s car had pulled out of the driveway and turned the corner before leaving the house. She knew that the drive to Crimson Point would take two hours each way—giving her at least four or five hours to let Jason do what needed to be done.

She walked down to the patrol car where she recognized the rookie from Friday night. She had expected the patrol car to follow Ric, then had been irritated when he didn’t.

“Why are you still here?” she demanded. “You’re supposed to be following my husband.”

Cruz Rodriguez blinked at her. “Ah, what? I—” He shook his head. “No. My orders are to watch you, Mrs. Lansing.” His olive-skinned cheeks took on a bit of a red hue. “We, ah, got someone else on your husband.”

“You think I’m going to lead you to Carly?” Elizabeth demanded. “You think I did this?”

“No,” Cruz said. He sighed. “No, but we know that your husband drugged you, and Detective Taggert was worried about you.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth exhaled. “Oh. Well, okay. Then you need to do something for me.”

He eyed her a bit suspiciously. “Uh—”

“Jason Morgan is going to come to this house and he’s going to tear it apart,” she told him. “He’s going to look for Carly or anything that might lead to her. I doubt that surprises you. I remember you from Friday.”

“I…yes. I guess I figured he was just waiting for Lansing to leave. I—I have to tell my superiors—”

“It doesn’t matter what they know,” Elizabeth muttered. “Because I’m giving the permission. You got it? I don’t want anyone calling anyone at the PCPD about Jason or whoever he brings here. I know how you guys work. How you jump on anything—”

“Mrs. Lansing…” Cruz held his hands up in defeat. “My only orders are to make sure you’re okay. If Jason Morgan can find Carly, then that’s what matters.” He stopped. “You think your husband did this, don’t you?”

“If you tell Ric I do, I’ll deny it,” Elizabeth said with some irritation. She saw a dark SUV pull up. Jason got out of the driver’s side, another man in the passenger, and then—oddly enough—a teen-aged boy from the backseat with a laptop bag. “You seem like a nice guy. Why don’t you drive around the block or something?”

“If you’re okay,” Cruz said after a moment, “there’s no reason anything else has to go in my report.”

Jason approached her, eying the patrol car suspiciously. “He’s still here.”

“He’s here to check on me, I guess.” Elizabeth gestured to the house. “We should go inside.”

Jason signaled to the two men to follow them.

Lansing House: Panic Room

Carly could have wept with joy as she saw Jason on the screen—as she watched Jason follow Elizabeth into the house.

Two men followed—she recognized one as Stan, someone who worked on electronics for them, but she didn’t know the second, younger boy who set up a laptop in the living room and took a large orange soda from his bag.

She watched Jason and Elizabeth go from room to room, looking in every crevice and cranny, opening every door—searching the basement, the study—

For an hour, she watched their slow careful progress—she watched as Jason became frustrated, as Elizabeth became increasingly flustered. They had kept up a conversation the whole time, but with no audio, she could just see that neither of them was happy with how it was going.

How could they miss the panic room? How was it built into the house so that it wasn’t obvious? Frustrated, Carly pounded the walls again. Screamed for them to hear her.

Why couldn’t Jason find her?

Lansing Home: Guest Bedroom

Jason almost slammed the closet door shut. That was it. This was the last room in the house.

He’d…he’d really expected to find her today. To find some hint of her. A shoe. A piece of fabric. Some hair. Some sign that she’d been here.

Elizabeth hovered at the doorway, her eyes dark with worry, concern. “I don’t understand,” she murmured as she drifted inside. “There wasn’t enough time for him to go anywhere and still make it home.”

“He must have delivered her to the Zaccharas that night.” Jason slammed his hand on the bureau, the combs and small pieces flying up slightly in the air. “Damn it.”

“I don’t—” Elizabeth licked her lips. “I don’t think so. I—I know you said you and Sonny were worried about it, but—his father—when he called—”

Jason looked at her. “What?”

“Ric didn’t seem happy about it. Irritated. If Ric was working with his father and the Zaccharas—then why did Ric kidnap her himself?” Elizabeth folded her arms, restlessly rubbing them. “Why risk it?”

Jason sank onto the mattress. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted. “I mean, Michael saw it happen. He saw Ric. If Ric had gotten her away without that sighting—it might have been longer before we knew she was gone—” He looked at her. “You wouldn’t have looked so drugged if we’d been even twenty minutes later.”

Elizabeth nodded. “That’s what I’m saying. If Taggert is going after this connection, what are the odds that Ric’s father hasn’t heard about what happened? Maybe that’s why Ric was so irritated when Trevor called.” She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just over thinking it.”

She looked around the room and then back towards the hallway where she watched as Jason’s electronics man, Stan, placed a camera and bug in the smoke detector in the master bedroom.

“No. You’re—I haven’t really slept,” Jason admitted. “And it’s been almost forty hours. Between Carly’s kidnapping, and the cops being all over everything—”

“Having to save my life,” Elizabeth pointed out with a sigh. “Yeah. I get.” She bit her lip. “Have you…eaten? You should eat and sleep. Carly wouldn’t want you to worry yourself like this. You know she’ll stay strong until you find her. But you’re only human, Jason.”

“Yeah.” Jason hated to admit it, but he had probably run into himself into the ground—he hadn’t wanted to return to the penthouse where he knew Courtney waited.

He was so angry at her for putting them in this position, for putting them under the scrutiny of the PCPD. For what? So that she could feel like she was doing something?

He couldn’t help but compare Elizabeth’s reaction to all of this—her husband had drugged her, nearly killed her, and still—she stood in this room, having opened her home to Jason and his guys—had put her life on the line to find Carly.

And she was right. Taggert and the PCPD might want to think Anthony Zacchara was involved because it would give them the excuse they needed to dig into their businesses, but too much about the kidnapping showed it was done by one man.

“I should check in with Stan and Spinelli.” Jason checked his watch. “We need to talk about the next step. Carly’s not here. There’s no clues.” He met Elizabeth’s eyes. “I can put you on a plane to Emily tonight.”

She was already shaking her head before he even finished speaking. “It’s not just the house I can get you access to,” she told him. “New York is a community property state. As long as I stay here, play along, I can give you permission to go into anything Ric owns. Anywhere. I leave, and you run the risk of getting arrested—”

“I don’t care about getting arrested,” Jason muttered. Even if she was right— “It’s not worth—”

“I told Ric I got sick yesterday. And I could see that worried him. He didn’t mean for me to eat all of that food—that’s why the dose was so high—”

“Don’t—” He blinked at her. “Are you making excuses for him?” Damn it—

Her smile was wry, even as her eyes were irritated. “Because that’s what I do, right? Make excuses. For him. For Lucky, For Zander. He didn’t mean to kill me, so I guess it doesn’t matter that he almost did.”

“I—”

“I think he knows he went too far,” Elizabeth said flatly, cutting off his reply. “I haven’t been eating—so I think he overdid how much he put in. But I didn’t—I didn’t want him to suspect me. I thought it would be okay. So I told him I got sick, and he was terrified that I almost went to the hospital. I told him I wanted to sleep in separate rooms because I didn’t want to have another miscarriage.” She exhaled slowly. “Ric thinks he can manipulate me. Why wouldn’t he? He did it for months and I didn’t even blink.”

“Elizabeth—” Jason’s tone was gentler now. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” she said with a quick shake of her head. “Because I’m good at ignoring things in front of my face—you should know that. I never thought Lucky would—and I sure as hell defended Zander at every turn—” She looked away, and he could see the shimmer of tears in her eyes. “Anyway. My eyes are open now. I think I can do this for a little while longer.”

Jason sighed. She wasn’t wrong that it would be more convenient to have permission to get into places Ric owned—he didn’t care about the law, but he really didn’t want to be dragged into the police station and locked up. Not while Carly was out there, waiting for him to find her.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Let’s talk about the next step then.”

‘Cause you play me like a symphony
Play me till your fingers bleed
I’m your greatest masterpiece
You ruin me
Later when the curtains drawn
And no one’s there for you back home
Don’t cry to me you played me wrong
You ruin me
– You Ruin Me, The Veronicas

---

Saturday, June 20, 2003

Quartermaine Mansion: Garden

“I’m going back to California,” Emily told Elizabeth, “but only because Jason told me to.” She clenched her fists in her lap. “But I want you to come with me. You can make your excuses to Ric, but please—”

Elizabeth sighed, pressed a hand to her aching head. Jason had taken her back to the studio and reluctantly left her alone, promising the burner cell phone would be delivered in a few hours. She’d decided to make her goodbyes to Emily while waiting for the phone to arrive.

She had promised Jason she would not go home until she had that phone—until he had a way to contact her.

She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around anything that happened to her in the last twenty-four hours—knowing that she had overdosed and nearly died only hours earlier or that it had been at the hands of the man she’d married and nearly had a child with—a man who had kidnapped a pregnant woman—and God, had done so many things, because of course Ric was guilty of all the crimes Jason and Sonny had cast at his feet.

Elizabeth couldn’t remember any of the objections she’d made in defense of Ric now or explain how she lied to herself for so long.

“If you talked to Jason,” Elizabeth began slowly, stirring her iced tea restlessly. She should eat before she went home, but she couldn’t find the desire to put anything in her stomach—not after having had it pumped. She closed her eyes. “If you talked to Jason,” she tried again, “then you know why you have to go and why I have to stay.”

Emily scowled. “He doesn’t want you to stay either, Liz. I have his permission to try and convince you differently, and if he were anybody else but Jason, he would put you on the plane himself. You’re not thinking clearly.” Her eyes softened. “I’m so scared about what will happen if you don’t leave.”

“And I’m scared about what happens if I do.” Elizabeth’s voice trembled, and she fought to keep it even. “The police are watching Jason and Sonny. I—I heard people talking at the hospital while I was waiting to get out. They searched the penthouses. The PCPD isn’t looking for Carly like Jason and Sonny can. Taggert and Capelli are going after them. Jason won’t be able to just—do what needs to be done. I have to help—”

“And how does staying in the house do that?” Emily challenged.

“Jason is going to come back and search as soon as I can get Ric out of the house,” Elizabeth told her. “He’s going to set up surveillance and electronics and whatever else he can. But—” She chewed her bottom lip. “If Ric caught him in the house—Taggert will arrest him and you know he’ll get stuck in jail. I can give permission. I can help—”

“I’m worried about Carly, too,” Emily said. “But you matter more to me. And I know how your brain thinks—you’re blaming yourself. If you hadn’t lost the baby—”

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut. God. If she hadn’t lost the baby, she’d be trapped now even more. There’d be no way out. No one to help. And just the small sliver of relief that had crawled into her heart at not being tied to Ric Lansing through a child made her feel so goddamn disgusted with herself.

“Don’t sacrifice yourself because you think no one cares,” Emily said quietly, her dark eyes burning into Elizabeth’s. “I care. You are my best friend. Bobbie cares. My mother cares. Nikolas cares. There are people who love you, Elizabeth.”

And where had any of them been last year? When she’d been drowning after the kidnapping and the crypt? When she had learned her grandmother had died, when she’d been left with an estate to settle, family to grieve. No one had come home to be with her. No one had come to the memorial with her. Held her hand. Held her as she sobbed.

Gram’s friends had sat through the service, but most had made excuses not to go to the reception Elizabeth had tried to arrange at the Port Charles Hotel or had left as quickly as they’d arrived.

Only Ric had showed up. Only Ric had sat beside her. Only Ric had cared.

Of course, that had been a gigantic lie—he’d been using her from the first moment he’d met her. Had only sought her out because she was connected to Jason and Sonny. Joke was on him, she thought bitterly. She didn’t matter to them either.

But Emily looked upset, so Elizabeth sighed. This would pass. Emily would worry, they would find Carly, and then it would go back to the way it had been for the last few years. Two ships passing in the night.

“I’m not trying to get myself killed,” Elizabeth said after a long moment. “I’m just trying to help the best way I can. I can’t fight the feeling that there’s something in the house—Ric didn’t want them to search. He wasn’t gone that long. There’s something there.”

“Okay.” Emily lifted a shoulder. “Okay. I know that face. I know better than to argue because now I’m just wasting breath. Jason said you promised to keep in contact with him. You’ll do that, right?”

Sure. Jason worried about her. He was a good person, but hadn’t he given in, too? Hadn’t he stopped arguing? Everyone knew Elizabeth was right. Ric was her problem to fix, Carly was her fault. And the only way Elizabeth could be of use to anyone was to stay in the house and make sure they could find Carly.

“I promise, Emily.” Elizabeth raised the glass of iced tea to her lips and let the cool liquid slide down her throat. Her throat was raw from the morning, and the tea settled uncomfortably in her empty stomach.  “And you’ll be home in a few months anyway—”

“I guess.” Emily sighed. “I don’t want to go. I want to stay here but getting into the internship at GH in the fall—it only works if I finish this program.”

“All you could do here is hold my hand, and I’d rather you were doing something that matters. You’re going to be a doctor, Em. I’m so proud of you.”

“Well, we’ll celebrate when I come home in August.” Emily bit her lip. “Liz, if you change your mind—you just go to the airport. You call me, and I’ll have a ticket waiting. Don’t let that get in your way.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly and forced a smile on her face. “Don’t worry. I—I’ve got it under control. I know what I’m doing.”

PCPD: Squad Room

Taggert scowled as he sifted through the paperwork and photographs they’d taken from Harborview Towers that morning. He had finally gotten the chance to get inside the inner sanctum of the Corinthos Organization and what did he have to show for it?

Nothing. Zip. Nada. Just a bunch of paperwork about coffee exporting.

He looked over as the rookie assigned to his squad came out of the locker room area, his dark eyes heavy with fatigue. “Rodriguez, you’re supposed to be at the Lansing house.”

Cruz furrowed his brow and joined Taggert at his desk. “What do you mean? I was. I spent the night outside and then left when my shift was over. I told Capelli—he said you’d send over another uniform—”

“Goddamn it.” Taggert lunged out of his seat and towards the roster schedule. “Capelli!” That goddamn idiot—no one had called in for a new patrol and the Lansing house had been left unsecured for almost—he glanced at his watch—eight fucking hours. It was already four in the afternoon—

Did he have to do everything around here?

“What’s your problem?” Capelli said, sauntering in from the break room, a cup of coffee in his hand. “You need to get some sleep—”

“Why the hell didn’t you send another uniform over to the Lansing place?” Taggert demanded.

“Figured the kid would take a double,” Capelli said with a shrug. “You’re not showing a lot of initiative, rookie,” he said to Cruz who blinked in surprise.

“It was literally his first shift,” Taggert said through clenched teeth. “Who knows what the hell is going on over there? He could have had her in that house and moved her by now—”

“Relax.” Capelli flicked some crumbs from his shirt. “She was never in the house anyway. We looked.”

Sure, they’d looked, but it didn’t mean that they hadn’t missed something. Why did Lansing drug his wife if he wasn’t planning to stash Carly at the house at least temporarily?

“Capelli—”

“Besides.” His partner slapped a file at his chest. “We got a lead.” He nodded to Cruz. “You’ll want to hear this. I can prove this is a mob hit.”

Taggert flinched at the word. He didn’t want to think of Carly as already beyond their help—as a body they were just trying to find. She was a pregnant woman, the daughter of his landlord. He liked Bobbie, liked Carly’s kid despite his family connections.

“How?” Taggert asked. “There’s none of the markers—”

“Ric Lansing’s background came back. Take a look.”

Taggert sighed and opened the file. He skimmed—his heart started to pound—then raised his eyes. “His father is Trevor Lansing, lead counsel for Zacchara Trucking.”

“As in Anthony Zacchara?” Cruz asked. “Didn’t he take over for the Gambinos in Manhattan?”

“Yes, yes, he did.” Capelli grinned, raised his coffee cup in salute. “Mob hit. Taking out the wife. I bet Trevor got himself tangled up in the Zaccharas just to get at Sonny.”

“I can buy that Ric Lansing has a hard on because his mother chose to raise Sonny, but I’m not seeing it for a grown ass man who made the demand in the first place,” Taggert muttered, even as he continued to look through the file. “Ric has had himself an interesting job history. Counsel of record for Luis Alcazar until the man went over the balcony, wonder why that never came up. And—look at this—”

Taggert touched a canceled check on the last page of Ric’s financial records. “Why is Ned Ashton paying Ric Lansing for legal advice? The lawyer of the man who killed his fiancée?” He closed the file and slapped it back at Capelli. “But I still don’t buy this is a mob hit.”

“If they didn’t take Carly to get rid of her,” Capelli said, “then maybe they’re just trying to get leverage. You remember two years ago? There were rumors Zacchara was sick, and one of the Vega kids tried to ham in on the cigarette trade.”

“They never did find all of the pieces of the wife,” Taggert murmured. “He probably should have made the deal.” He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I can buy that Corinthos and Morgan have something Zacchara wants. Probably why Lansing came to town in the first place.”

“And why he hooked up with the wife. She’s been mixed up with those idiots for years,” Capelli said. “You think she’s in on this? Looking for revenge?”

“No,” Cruz said without thinking. Both older detectives looked at him and he swallowed hard. “I mean, I just—I met her. But she looked pretty upset yesterday. Sick, too. And she—I think she thinks her husband is involved. She acted one way when Ric was with you guys—talking to that Morgan guy. And then she flipped a switch when you all came back.”

“She’s smart,” Taggert murmured, but now he was worried. If Lansing had drugged her once—would he drug her again? Would he hurt her even more? “Cruz…until further notice, I want you on the house. I want you to pull that other kid who just started—the one on the patrol?”

“Dante?”

“Yeah. Rotate shifts with him. Can you both pull twelve hour shifts for a few days?” Taggert exhaled slowly. “I know it’s a lot to ask so soon, but I got a bad feeling. I want someone on Elizabeth Webber at all times. At least for now.”

“I’m sure Dante wouldn’t care, but we could also use Lucky—I know you didn’t want him on this—”

“I don’t,” Taggert admitted. “And he’s not assigned to me, he’s assigned to Esposito. But—” Lucky might have a vested interest in doing right by Carly and Elizabeth. “You and the other kid—you take the first day. I’ll try to get Lucky assigned to this detail.”

He looked to Capelli. “We need to get those warrants for the business records before Corinthos and Morgan can shred any connection. Zacchara is the key to this.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

It had been more than twenty-four hours since Sonny had slept.  He hadn’t even gone into his bedroom and had decided, arbitrarily so, that he wouldn’t go near that room until Carly was home. Until they could go to bed together.

Michael was asleep in his room with a worried Leticia standing guard. He’d finally cried himself to sleep the night before and had been upset most of the day. He’d wanted Jason, he’d wanted his mother, he’d wanted Aunt Courtney—

He wanted safety and security, and Sonny couldn’t give that to him right now.

Not until he found his wife and brought her home.

“Thanks for coming so fast,” Sonny told the two men who had just been shown into the penthouse by Max. Both of the men wore familiar faces—but only one of them was known to Sonny. Justus Ward had immediately flown in from Philadelphia, promising to keep the PCPD at bay at least for a little while.

And Bernie Abrams, brother to the deceased and dearly missed Benny, was there to make sense of the mess that had taken over their lives since Benny’s death in March.

“I’ve drawn up paperwork,” Justus began, “to inform the PCPD that no one will be allowed on the premises without a search warrant and revoking any right that Courtney Matthews has to give permission to search either penthouse.” He hesitated. “I had to…use some legal language that might be bit harsh about Jason’s place. It basically calls her a squatter who has residential rights but no legal authority. You might want to make sure she never sees this.”

“I could not care less right now,” Sonny said, his blood still simmering at the perfidy and stupidity of his sister, the woman Jason had nearly married. Well, that was as good as over—there was no way Jason was going to be able to trust Courtney again after not only calling the police but allowing them to search their homes. “Whatever it takes.”

“Do we want to think about making an appeal to the media?” Justus asked. “I’m aware you already have an idea of who did this, Sonny, but it might put public pressure on the PCPD to stay out of your hair—”

“My contact—” Bernie flushed slightly. “He was my brother’s contact, I mean, but at any rate, the DA’s office is writing up warrants for the warehouse and the coffee house.”

“We haven’t even opened the goddamn place yet,” Sonny muttered, raking his hands through hair. His eyes felt gritty and he just wanted to lay down. This was all a dream. A horrible nightmare.

He wanted his wife back.

“They’re going to come up with some bullshit reason to grant the search warrants,” Sonny said, “so we gotta clear out the warehouses. We got stay a step ahead of them. Bernie, I need you to get my guys together. Johnny—he’s running the warehouses. You get him, and Francis on security, and Tommy—he’s my bookie guy. Get them all. We need to have a status meeting. It needs to be now.” He looked at Justus. “How much insulation do you want?”

“I’ll worry about that after Carly is found, Sonny,” Justus told him. “Don’t think about that right now. I’ll work on a press release, and Bernie and I will sort through the paperwork while you’re making sure everything is ready for the prying eyes of the PCPD.”

Max knocked on the door and opened it slightly. “Hey, Boss….your, ah, sister was hoping to check on you—”

“No,” Sonny said bluntly. “I’m not interested.” When Max shut the door, Sonny looked at Bernie and Justus. “This—all of this is because Courtney called them. I can’t make a fucking move to find my wife because everyone is watching me.”

“You know Jason is going find her,” Justus said. “He won’t rest until he does.”

“She’s my wife,” Sonny growled. “I should be finding her.” He poured himself a tumbler of bourbon and then drank it in one thirsty gulp. “Let’s get to work. Carly is screwed if Jason and I end up in jail.”

Kelly’s: Parking Lot

Emily slid off the hood of her car as Jason’s motorcycle parked in the spot next to hers. “Hey. I know you’re busy—”

“I wanted to say goodbye.” Jason embraced his sister tightly. “Thank you. I know you don’t want to leave.”

“No, but…” Emily bit her lip. “Any news?” She folded her arms. “I mean, that’s a stupid question, but—”

“Nothing. It’s like she vanished into thin air. I’ve had someone watching Lansing all day—he hasn’t left the house.” Jason shook his head, frustrated. “She has to be in the house, but I don’t know how. The PCPD searched it, and they’re morons, but they’re not that bad.”

“That’s what Elizabeth says. She just has this feeling that the answer is in the house.” Emily closed her eyes. “The only reason I’m leaving is because you said it will be easier for her to lie to Ric if I’m not here challenging her, but I feel like leaving just convinces her that no one cares about her.”

“I can’t—I tried to convince her to leave, Em. If I put her on that plane without her permission, she’d just come right back.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I could have said to change her mind. If almost overdosing didn’t convince her, nothing will.”

“Well, maybe we just need another voice of reason. Bobbie is going to try to talk to her, and if that doesn’t work—” Emily hesitated. “It’s not that I don’t want to find Carly. I do. I don’t like her, but I love you. And she matters to you. And I love Michael, and I know he loves his mother. But Elizabeth is risking her life, and I’m just—I’m scared. I thought about calling Lucky to see if his dad would help.”

“Luke’s been pretty useless since Laura got sick,” Jason told her with a bit a regret. “I don’t know what—”

“Luke doesn’t have your penchant for letting people make their own decisions. Yeah, if you made Liz get on that plane with me, she’d come right home. But Luke would just lock her up until it was safe.” Emily leaned her forehead against her brother’s chest. “I haven’t been the kind of friend she needed. I know I’m abandoning her. Please don’t let her do this alone.”

“I’m not—”

“Because she blames herself for all of it. This is how she’s going to make it right. That’s what she’s telling herself.” Emily’s voice broke. “She’s so lost and broken, Jason. Her husband nearly killed her, and she doesn’t have enough goddamn sense to just leave. You’d find Carly without her staying here—she says she doesn’t have a death wish but how else to explain it—”

“I promise you, Emily,” Jason took his sister by the shoulders and Emily looked up at him. “I am not going to let Elizabeth do this alone. If there are answers in that house, we’ll find them in a few days. And if we don’t, there’s no reason to let her stay.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not going to let her down again.”

Elizabeth’s Studio

Elizabeth ran her fingers over the flip phone that the guard had delivered to her. He was apparently her guard, the man who called himself Cody Paul said. He wouldn’t drive her around, but he’d follow her. His number was in the phone, right after Jason’s. Both of them on the speed dial.

Just an extra reassurance that someone was always close, someone would always be there to help.

And now she had to go home. To figure out a way to go back to the house and to being Ric’s wife. Would he let her sleep in the other room again? Maybe she should tell him she got sick at the studio. Maybe she should guilt him the way that he did her, make him feel sorry for trying to kill her with drugs.

She opened the phone and looked at the speed dials—there were only two programmed. Jason was number two, Cody number three. She committed that to memory, then pressed two.

“Elizabeth.”

“I got the phone,” she told him. “I just—I figured you’d know when I got it—and if you meant it about checking in—”

“Every hour,” Jason cut in. “Except, I guess, when you sleep. But every hour.”

“Okay.” Elizabeth slowly exhaled. “Okay. And I got—Cody is here. Um, thank you.”

“The minute you want to get out of this, you tell Cody. He has instructions to take you to a safe house or put you on a plane to Emily,” Jason said. “I will always take your call, but I don’t—the cops are all over us and I wanted you to have options if I can’t be there.”

Her eyes burned, and she couldn’t speak for a moment. “Okay.”

There was a knock on her sturdy studio door—the one that Jason given her the year before. Cody opened it slightly. “Bobbie Spencer, Miss Webber.”

“I have to go,” she told Jason. “I’ll call you back in an hour.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

She closed the phone, then waved for Cody to let Bobbie in. The redhead bustled in, crossed the room, and drew Elizabeth into a tight hug. “You are scaring the life out of me, Elizabeth Webber.”

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said. She drew back, wiping her eyes. “Did Jason or Emily send you?”

“Monica, actually,” Bobbie told her. She took Elizabeth’s chin in her hands and peered into her eyes. “I saw your chart on the desk, and I broke all the codes and rules. I looked up your visit today. Goddamn it, Elizabeth. The levels of benzos in your blood gave me the chills.”

Elizabeth sighed. “I know. I know what you’re going to say.”

“I know that Jason, Emily, and Monica have already tried to talk to you. I know that Monica nearly called in a psych consult.” Bobbie took Elizabeth’s arms, wrapping her hands around them just below Elizabeth’s elbows. “The risk you are taking to help my daughter, it humbles me because I know you don’t like one another. But don’t do it. Let Jason and Sonny handle it.”

“They told me months ago that Ric was a mistake, but I ignored them. I let Ric into my life, into my heart—I let his lies put me in a prison cell, lock me away from everyone who I could have reached for—” Tears slid down her cheeks. “I can’t let him get away with this. Please don’t ask me to be weak, Bobbie. I can do this. I can make this right.”

“Okay.” Bobbie embraced her again. “Okay. I’m sure Jason has taken all the precautions he could. I saw the guard. I guess that’s the phone he said he’d give you. You put me on that speed dial, too, Elizabeth. You take care of yourself.” Tears slid down her cheek. “And, oh, God, find my daughter. Please. I need to have her back.”

“We’re going to find Carly.” Elizabeth returned the hug even more tightly. Finally, she was in the strong position. Giving comfort. “I won’t rest until I do.”