Written in 66 minutes. Ending scene needed to be just right, so it took an extra minute, and I added Alexis/Sonny.

PCPD: Squad Room

Lucky tapped on Mac’s open door. “Hey, Cruz said you wanted to see me when I got back. The preliminary autopsy isn’t back yet, so I thought I’d go over to the medical examiner and wait—”

Mac rose to his feet. “Hold off on that right now. Come in, close the door. There’s something we have to talk about.”

Lucky frowned, but obeyed, pushing the door shut. “Uh, crime scene didn’t find anything visible under the fingernails but that makes sense with the injury. Without manual strangulation, there’s less opportunity.”

Mac grimaced. “That’s…unfortunate. Hopefully they’ll find something that isn’t visible to the eye. But that makes what I have to say all the more necessary.”

“What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“On Halloween. Before we got the call for the hospital,” Mac began, “did Sam come in to make a complaint?”

Lucky grimaced, but the pit in his stomach released. He’d thought whatever was happening was more serious. “Oh. Yeah. She had some bullshit story about Jason threatening to kill her and assaulting her in front of Elizabeth and the kids. She didn’t have a mark on her, and she’d been bugging me for months to go after them. She wanted me to go harder in the custody and divorce, and was pretty pissed when I didn’t.” He shrugged. “I asked her to stay, to take a formal statement, but that I wasn’t going to arrest Jason until I could get the tapes from the diner. She made a scene and stormed out, and then the call came in. So I didn’t think about it again.”

“And was that the only time Sam asked about her case?” Mac asked.

Lucky exhaled slowly. “She came by my place a few days ago, I think. Acting like she was there to say how sorry she was, but then asked about her case. I was pretty pissed at her — I closed the door. Wait—”

“Apparently, Sam came by after you threw her out—her words, not mine,” Mac added when Lucky opened his mouth, “and she filed a complaint. Against you. And the officer on duty took her official statement. But the tapes from Kelly’s are gone, so there’s nothing he could do with her statement. And the complaint against you fell through the cracks.”

“Mac—”

“I think we can both agree privately that this is bullshit,” Mac said. “I don’t think for one second Sam was in any danger from Jason or that he threatened her in front of the boys. You handled it exactly as you should have—but I wish like hell you’d filed even a basic report to cover your own ass.”

“I would have, but—”

“I thought giving the case to Robert, taking you off as primary would cover us.” Mac sat down, exhaustion in the lines of his face. “But now it looks like a cover up. Sam doesn’t fit the profile. And you’re on record right now stating she had a grudge against Jason. She tried to testify against him in the murder trial, tried to torpedo his custody case, and was now trying to have him arrested. It gives him motive.”

“The hell it does—” Lucky scowled. “Damn it, Mac, don’t make me defend the man, but why the hell would I cover up for the guy my wife left me for? Who’s going to raise my kids? What bullshit is this? I did everything right, and you’re going to let Sam screw me over from the grave? You’re going to let her lies put suspicion on a guy who lost his sister? Who the hell actually thinks he would have killed Sam that way with Elizabeth steps away—”

Mac looked pained. “The argument would be made that Elizabeth is romantically involved with him. That Robin once was—”

“And so they’d overlook cold-blooded murder?” The heat crawled up his neck, his cheeks were flushed as the fury set in. “Who is going to make that argument? The press? Floyd? Is that what this is about? This is bullshit, Mac—”

“I’m not worried that Jason will be seriously under suspicion. But I have to—” Mac hesitated. “I have to take you off the case, Lucky. You—you need to call your union rep—”

The fury disappeared in a blink. “What?”

“We need to do an investigation—”

“You’re—” He swallowed. “Mac, you can’t do this.”

“You need to go home. You’re suspended without pay. I’m sorry—”

“You’re suspending me.” His job. The one thing he had left. They were taking his job. “Mac.”

“I’m sorry. I need—I need your badge. And your gun.”

Numbly, Lucky reached down to his side, removed the gun from the holster, set it on the desk, then into his pocket where he kept the badge. He looked at it for a long moment, then set it by the desk. “This is a mistake. And you’re wasting resources. Elizabeth and Robin were steps away from being the next victims. He didn’t get the kill he wanted. He’ll be looking for new victims.”

“We’ll handle it, Lucky.”

No, they wouldn’t, Lucky thought, as he left the office, quietly closing the door and standing in the hallway for a long moment. They’d worry more about the optics. About the appearance of a cover-up. And there’d be one or two cops who saw a chance to nail Jason Morgan, a man they already thought was a killer.

But they didn’t care what he thought. He was a screw-up. He had left Sam unprotected and now she was dead.

His family was gone. His career was dead.

And the killer was still out there.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason frowned, felt Elizabeth tense beside him. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

“We need an alibi for you tonight,” David Harper repeated, slowing it down as if Jason was an idiot. “And for September 14 and October 31.”

“Why?” Elizabeth demanded, but he looked at her, and she closed her mouth, the color in her cheeks rising. He’d worry about the answer to her question later. He needed to know how serious this was.

“I’m not answering any questions until my lawyer is present,” Jason said simply. “So if that’s all you came to ask you, you can go. And don’t come back without a warrant.”

“If you have nothing to hide—”

“I’m calling Diane,” Elizabeth cut in sharply, and went to the sofa where they’d left the cordless phone.

“It would clear this up—”

Jason walked past the cop, reached for the door to pull it open. “Ask someone downtime. They have Diane’s number. Get out.”

Harper pressed his lips together, moved towards the doorway, standing at the threshold. “You’re not doing yourself any favors—”

“Thirty seconds, or Diane’s going to add violation of civil rights to our complaint,” Elizabeth called, the phone against her ear. “Yeah, Diane? We need you at Jason’s. Okay. Thanks.”

“Why don’t I just wait for her—” Harper began, but Jason started to close the door, and he stepped back to avoid being hit with it. Jason flipped the locks, and now that questions started to crowd his mind.

“Why are they asking for your alibi? How can they think you actually had anything to do with Sam? Lucky and Robert both thought Sam wasn’t the target—” Elizabeth broke off as he turned to look at her. “This is insane. It’s insane. They can’t really think—”

“I don’t know what they think,” he said finally. Sam must have talked to someone about the threats he’d made against her. He wasn’t seriously worried that he was in trouble. It would have been Sam’s word against his—

And he had an alibi for tonight. Not a strong one, he admitted to himself. Spinelli wasn’t particular credible — members of the family never were. And they’d just argue Jason could have slipped out of the Towers without being caught on security footage. He knew he could — he’d done it before.

But they were asking about Georgie. About Emily. His chest tightened. Did they really think…

“Jason?”

He cleared his throat, looked back at Elizabeth’s pinched, worried expression. “It’s fine. Diane will handle it. I have an alibi.”

“I know—”

“For all three nights. I was with you the first two, and Spinelli last night. They—” He took a deep breath. “You called me. There will be a record of that on your cell phone records. It’ll corroborate Spinelli’s story. The guards saw me leave. It’s not—” As he said it out loud, he felt better. “I couldn’t have made it back in time to leave again.” He’d forgotten that.

“But now they’re wasting time looking at you—” Her scowl deepened. “It’s bullshit. They just don’t want to admit they don’t have any damn leads. Two months. Almost three. Five women—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, dipped her head down. “Does it ever just stop?” she asked softly. “Are they ever going to find this guy?”

Thirty minutes ago, before Harper and his questions, Jason had felt more confident. But now?

“I don’t know,” he said finally. He drew her towards him, needing to hold her, to remind himself that she was all right. Safe. Home with him. And to remember that his life had kept her that way this time. Rather than bringing danger to her doorstep, she was alive because of him. He kissed the top of her forehead. “Diane will handle it. It’ll be okay.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

So did he, but he said nothing, and just held her tighter.

Lake House: Front Deck

Sonny peered through the glass front door, saw Alexis curled up on the sofa, and tried the knob. It twisted easily in his hand.

He stepped inside, and she looked at him, her eyes dry but devastated. “You ever heard of knocking?”

“Overrated.” He closed the door, then sat beside her. “The girls?”

“Ric came and picked them up. He offered to stay, but—” She touched the fringe on a throw a pillow. “I wanted to be alone. I don’t know how to tell them. They’re so young. Will they even understand?” She met his eyes again. “And how could they? I certainly don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he told her gently. “I know you loved her.”

“It hasn’t hit yet,” she murmured. “I saw Mac standing out there. Looking at me. And I knew it was bad. I thought maybe it was Nikolas. In his grief — but I never thought—” She closed her eyes. “I only just found her, Sonny. We were just beginning to know each other. To love each other.”

He reached for her hand, squeezed it. “There are no words, Alexis. Not a single one. Nothing makes this better.”

Her breath was shaky as she exhaled. “No. There isn’t.”

“Come here.” She reluctantly leaned against him, stiff at first, then relaxed against his shoulder. He held her, hoping that Sam would be the last of the victims. That another mother, another family, would never have to grieve.

PCPD: Squad Room

“You’re bloody insane, you know that?” Robert demanded, throwing his hands up. “You suspended my best cop?”

“Your best cop?” Mac all but leapt to his feet. “Where do you get off—”

“My case, little brother, yeah, so my cop. And yours! I never would have given in so damn easily—”

“You never had to live in Port Charles under the shadow of Sonny Corinthos and Jason Morgan,” Mac bit out. He paced the length of the office. “You always got your guy! But my guys, my cops have watched year after year as Sonny and Jason get away with every little damn thing—Jason Morgan was just acquitted of murder three months ago—and my department took the heat for another botched investigation—”

“None of that has anything to do with my case! I’m trying to find a murderer!” Robert shot back. “And the cop you just sent home knows more about the case than anyone else. He’s the one who worked his ass off to eliminate suspects to get me a shortlist—”

“Yeah, well, where’s my killer, huh? If you’ve got that shortlist—”

“He gave it to me today, you dumb son of a—” Robert broke off abruptly at the knock on the door.

Mac sent him a fulminating glare, then yanked the door open, almost grateful to see Harper. “You’re back already?”

“We’ve got a problem.” Harper scowled, shook his head. “I think we were too quick to cross Morgan off the list—he refused to give me an alibi, so that’s an issue—”

“Damn it.” Mac grimaced. “I didn’t—he’s been cooperating so far—”

“Because he’s been a witness until now,” Robert said flatly. “You went to this man tonight? You’re dumber than I thought. He lost his sister three weeks ago and tonight, his fiancee was steps away from being the next woman on the slab. His ex-fiancee was killed instead—”

“Another woman connected to Morgan—”

“Oh, shut up,” Robert retorted, dismissing Harper’s protest. “If you actually think this guy killed his own sister, we’ve got bigger problems—”

“I don’t—” Harper took a deep breath. “I don’t think he’s our killer in the other four. But I damn well know he’s a murderer many times over, so why the hell would I dismiss him on this?”

“I don’t remember asking you about my case. And you won’t be interviewing any more of my witnesses, you cretin.” Robert gestured towards the door. “Out. Now.”

“It’s going to leak, Mac, that Sam isn’t part of this—”

“I’m going to commit violence in another minute,” Robert said, taking a step towards Harper. “You’ve mucked up my case, and just torched any chance I had of talking to my witness again. You think after you accuse him of murder, Morgan’s lawyer is going to let Elizabeth anywhere near us?”

Harper snorted. “Okay. Yeah. Clearly, you’re new around here. Morgan—”

“Out, Harper. I’ll take it from here,” Mac said. “Go.”

He closed the door behind the detective. Took a deep breath. “I didn’t—he asked to snip off the thread, Robert. He made it seem like he didn’t think it was Jason. Like he just wanted to cross off the possibility for a possible defense—”

“You asked me to oversee this case, Mac.” Robert’s tone was quieter, but no less annoyed. “But within a matter an hour, you’ve made it harder for me to do that. Spencer made a mistake, but not a fatal one. And maybe Morgan needed to be asked the question to clear it up, but you could have told me. I could have seen it done. Hell, Spencer has a better relationship with the man. You better hope I can clean this up.”

“You have no right—”

“I have every right,” Robert spat. “Because if you’d asked me for my alibi after I learned that Robin nearly died to night at that madman’s hands, you’d have to peel me off the ceiling. Go home, Mac. You’re too close, and I’m not going to let you make another mistake when we’re closer than ever to nailing this son of a bitch.

Spencer Home: Living Room

Lucky tossed his keys towards the desk, but they slid off, clinking against the floor. He stared at the silver glinting in the moonlight shimmering through the curtains. He hadn’t switched on any lights. He didn’t want any.

He should just go to bed. Just take a shower, go to sleep, and clear his head. He’d barely slept in weeks. Months, really. Not since that phone call.

He climbed the stairs, his head aching. He knew he hadn’t replaced the empty bottle of aspirin in his medicine cabinet, but maybe —

Lucky passed by the closed bedroom he’d shared with Elizabeth, past the empty rooms where Cameron and Jake had slept, passed Lulu’s empty bedroom, and went to the ensuite his grandmother had used before moving away. Lesley had always kept a few bottles of aspirin on hand, from the headache of dealing with Lulu.

He flipped on the bathroom light, and opened the cabinet, reaching for the familiar colors of Tylenol—

Then paused on the little orange-brown bottle. He picked it up, hearing the pills inside click against each other. Hydrocodone. Not oxy, but not that different. Lesley must have left this behind.

They were old. Probably not even that potent.

That old craving slid through him, and he tightened his fingers. Elizabeth was gone. He’d destroyed her, hadn’t he? He’d heard her on the witness stand, sobbing as she spoke of her exhaustion and fears. He’d broken Cameron — the little boy’s cries would haunt him — and Jake, he was gone, too.

His parents, the idyllic childhood, the certainty Lucky had had as a teenager, the surety of who Luke and Laura had been — that had been gone for years. And it had been a lie. And if his parents were a lie, then what was he? Was anything he remembered about those years real?

Emily, his best friend. His one touchstone. The first person he’d met his own age who liked him and knew him. His brother. Nikolas thought he was useless. That pills were all he was good for. And Lulu, she only felt sorry for him.

The job. The one piece of his life that he’d felt good about, that he knew he could do, that he could hold on to—well, that was gone, too.

It would all go away. It would disappear and he could close his eyes and just drift. Nothing would hurt. He wouldn’t feel anymore.

He didn’t want to feel anything.

He wanted to feel nothing.

It was where he lived, after all.

+30

Written in 61 minutes.

Elm Street

Elizabeth could see Jason and Patrick just behind the barricades — Patrick was, predictably, pacing back forth, stopping occasionally to say something probably rude to the officer and rake his hands through his hair. Jason’s hands were resting on top of the barricade, but he was otherwise still.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Elizabeth slid her arms around Jason’s waist and he pulled in her tight, dropping his head down to the curve of her neck. “It’s so awful.”

“They wouldn’t tell us anything.” Jason raised his head, smoothed her hair back from her face, leaving his hands cupping her cheek. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“They didn’t tell you?” Elizabeth said, dread swirling in her stomach. And she hadn’t said anything either on the phone. She’d been too upset, too stunned — she’d only told him they’d found a body —

“It was Sam,” she said softly, and his eyes widened. “Sam was—he killed Sam.”

His body tensed, and he exhaled slowly. “Sam,” he repeated.

She pressed her hand against his heart, prepared for whatever grief would sweep through him. For all Sam’s crimes and manipulations, she’d been someone Jason loved. Had planned to share a life.

He cleared his throat. “Wait. It was only Sam?” he frowned, looked over at Robin who was carefully explaining to Patrick that she did not need to go to the hospital, that she was completely fine — and also fielding the same argument with her father. Jason looked back at Elizabeth. “That—that’s not like the others. It’s not the same—”

“I—” Elizabeth grimaced, dipped her head. “It was only her, but they still think—can we go home? I really just want—I want to go home.”

“Yeah, okay.” He kissed her forehead, looked over at the guard. “You can follow us back, right?”

“Sure thing.”

“Call me,” Elizabeth told Robin.

“Yeah, no problem, you’ll probably find me in the ICU,” the other woman muttered darkly. “Dad, I’m fine. I just want to go home—”

“We can ask Kelly to come over,” Patrick was suggesting as Jason led Elizabeth towards the SUV he’d parked at the curb.

“He’s going to drive her insane over the next seven months,” Elizabeth said, looking at the pair fondly, grateful for the small distraction. She climbed into the car and wondered how exactly Jason—or Patrick—was going to handle the news that she and Robin had been mere minutes and one guard away from being the next victims.

Lake House: Living Room

Mac stepped up to the deck that sat just outside the house, staring inside at the sofa where he could see Alexis sitting with one of her daughters, the youngest he thought.

Christ, how many notification would there have to be on this case? He’d had to tell too many people about Georgie. He’d called Chelsea’s family. The call to London. The Quartermaines.

And now he’d have to tell Alexis the daughter she’d found a year ago was dead. Murdered just like all the other girls — and worse, would she have to learn that Sam hadn’t even been a target? That the killer had only ended her life because Sam was in his way?

Mac knocked lightly on the door, and Alexis turned. She could see him through the glass door. Her smile faded and she rose. She said something to Molly, and the little girl frowned, but went out of the room.

Alexis came towards him slowly, her eyes on his. She slid back the bolt on the lock, then opened the door. “Mac. It’s a little late for a social call.” The words were light, and there was some attempt in the tone, but he could see it in her eyes. She already knew. Somewhere deep down.

“Alexis. Tonight at Kelly’s, in the parking lot, Sam was—they found Sam’s body. She’s…” Mac took another breath. “She’s gone. I’m sorry.”

Alexis raised her hand, fisted it. “How? An accident? Or—”

“It was a homicide. That’s all I can tell you right now.”

“Homicide.” She touched the door frame. Closed her eyes. “Murdered. Was it—is it related to the others?”

“We think maybe. But we don’t know for sure yet.”

“Okay. Okay.” Her hand shaking, Alexis pressed it to her mouth. “Okay. Um. Okay.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay.”

“Can I call someone?” Mac wanted to know. “Can I—”

“No, I’ll—I can do that. Thank you. Do you need anything from me? Do you need—”

“No, not at this time. I’ll let you know. Alexis, I’m sorry.”

“Yes. Thank you.” She closed the door and he stepped away.

Alexis stared into the living room, not seeing the furniture. The floor. Nothing. Molly was only a few steps away, down the hall in her bedroom. Kristina was with her father. Oh, God, how did she tell her girls?

She walked over to the phone on the table next to the sofa, picked it up. “Ric? I need—I need you. Can you—thank you.” Quietly, she hung up the phone and looked at the mantel. At the photograph of her girls at Christmas. The first Christmas she’d ever had all of her daughters together.

And now it would be the only one.

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Mac had no sooner sat at his desk to look over the initial reports than there was a knock at his door. “Harper? Did you turn anything up in the canvas?”

“I gave that to Rodriguez. Uh, we might have a small problem on our hands.” Harper folded his arms. “Sam McCall came in on Halloween to make a police report. Apparently, she was accusing Jason Morgan of grabbing her arm, dragging her into an alley, and threatening her life.”

Mac shook his head. “This isn’t him—”

“The murder doesn’t fit the pattern—”

“Sam wasn’t the target, Harper. She was just in the way. So unless you think Jason Morgan is our killer and was planning to murder his fiancée tonight along with my niece, then I don’t know what we’re doing here—”

“Okay, look—” Harper sat down, and Mac scowled. “Look, I get why you don’t think it’s him—”

“I don’t think, I know. This isn’t him, and I’m not wasting police resources—”

“That report I mentioned? It was never filed. The detective on duty ignored it. And apparently ignored a few follow-up requests. She came in a few days ago and finally talked to someone else. You think that’s not going to leak? She made a scene on Halloween when the cop didn’t do anything. More than a few uniforms probably know about it.”

Mac sighed, then hesitated. “Halloween?” he echoed.

“Yeah, Halloween. Lucky Spencer took that report. And ignored the follow-up. Now you and I both know he probably just forgot about it after the murders came in. And Sam McCall probably wasn’t much of a witnesses, but now we can’t confirm the story without video.”

“Christ.” And if it did get out to the press — that’d be the last thing he needed.

“You should have taken Spencer off this case that night, Mac, and you know it. Emily was the next thing to family to him. And it involved him questioning his ex-wife and her boyfriend — after he’d lost custody of his kids to her.”

“Damn it—”

“Now it’s going to look like you let him stay on it and screwed it up. Sam doesn’t fit the profile. That’s going to leak. You know it is. Maybe you’re right. Maybe there’s a reason she’s not like the others. But you’re on thin ice, Mac, overseeing a case with your own relationship to Georgie.”

“Watch it—”

“Let me handle it, okay? I can snip this thread off quietly. Morgan’s got kids now. Word on the street is he’s been laying low since the truth about the baby got out. Spending time at home. He probably has solid alibis for all three murders. I get those on record, you take Spencer off the case, and there’s no blow back.”

Mac grimaced. “I’ll talk to Lucky when he gets in. But you keep it quiet. This isn’t Morgan, and I’m not having this department opened up to harassment. The man lost his sister, damn it.”

“Yeah, and now an ex-fiancée who was bitter and causing issues is dead now. There’s a lot of people in this city that already think he got away with murder this summer, Mac. I’ll take care of it, but you better get Spencer off this case. Otherwise, if we catch this guy, and there’s no DNA on Sam McCall, we don’t nail him for her murder. I’d like to see you explain that to Alexis Davis.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth stepped down from the last stair, her hand resting on the banister. “The boys are both down. And Spinelli’s trying to finish his paper in his room.”  She folded her arms. “I guess we should talk about what happened.”

“Yeah.” But Jason remained across the room at the window. “I was thinking of calling Alexis, but I doubt she’d want to hear from me.”

“She might. It’s okay, you know,” she added, and he met her eyes. “To be sad. To miss her, I guess. Or grieve.”

“I don’t…” Jason shook his head. “I don’t really know what I’m feeling,” he admitted. “For a long time, I loved her. But after these last few months, I think I was just a mark to her. Someone else to con.” He looked back out over the harbor. “And I was an easy one. I didn’t really have much else. Courtney divorced me — couldn’t handle the job. Sonny and Carly were imploding again. And Sam needed me. And there was the baby.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know. But that woman—the one I asked to marry me — I couldn’t see her anymore. She was gone, and there was just this bitterness. This anger. Resentment. Hatred,” he murmured. “And I wonder now if she ever loved me at all. If it was all just a lie.”

“You don’t have to have the answers tonight.” She slid her arms around his waist, rested her head against his chest. He kissed the top of her head, stroked her back. “But I’m sorry for Alexis. For her sisters. I know they loved her.”

“What did the cops say at the diner? Do they think it was connected to the other murders?” Jason said finally. “This was different, wasn’t it?”

“That’s the other part…” Elizabeth bit her lip, stepped back. “Robin and I ran into each other inside, and we were going to walk out together. With Frankie, right? And Sam came in. We had…well, you know, we weren’t kind to each other. Then Sam left, and Robin and I hung back for a minute. I wanted to be sure she was gone.”

Jason’s hands had still been stroking her back, but now they stilled. “How long was she gone before you went out?”

“Minutes. There was another customer. He left as Sam came in. I don’t know what he looked like. Robin didn’t know either. But he could have overheard us talking about leaving.” Her voice trembled. “Her body was still warm when we found her, Jason. And we heard him run away.”

“You…” He swallowed hard. “You heard him run away.”

“Yes. We passed under a light, and he saw Frankie. He ran away. He said something — it sounded angry, but we never saw anyone. And then Robin stumbled, and Sam was there—that’s when Frankie made us go back inside.”

“The—he was right there,” Jason said. “The man who killed Emily. And Georgie, and—”

“Yes. Lucky said—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Lucky thinks the guy was waiting in the parking lot, and just grabbed the first woman. When he realized it was Sam, he…”

“Killed her quickly and sat back to wait.”

“Y-yes.” She cleared her throat. “But we weren’t alone. I don’t—I don’t think he was ready to deal with that.”

Jason pulled her tight against him, his hand in her hair. “He was waiting for you. For you and Robin.”

“If you hadn’t given me the guard—If I hadn’t gone to Kelly’s tonight, oh, God, what if it had been Robin? Maybe she would have gone out with Sam. Maybe—”

“It could have been you.” Something rolled through his body, and he had to take another deep breath. “It almost was.”

“It’s so—God, it’s so terrible to be relieved that it was Sam, and not me. That she was so bitter and hateful that Robin and I chased her out — instead of us leaving first —” She felt his lips against her forehead.  “I always felt safe at Kelly’s. Always. But this man — this evil bastard who already stole Emily from us — he was just waiting. Do you think that’s what he does? He just waits in public places?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” He kissed her again, lingering.

The phone rang across the room, and Elizabeth jolted, startled by the sound. Jason took another breath, cleared his throat, and left her at the window to take the call. “Wally? Hey. Yeah, um. That’s fine. Send them up.”

He set the phone down, dragged a hand down his face as she joined him at the desk. “It’s a guy from the PCPD. Probably some follow-up questions.”

“Maybe they want to see if we can remember what the guy who left looked like. I can’t believe—” Elizabeth bit her lip hard, until she tasted blood. “Now I’m going to wonder if every strange man I see is just waiting to find me alone. It’s terrible. It’s just like going back to the rape. That’s what it was like—”

“Hey.” Jason cupped her elbows, drew close. “Hey. There a security tapes, okay? They’ll find this guy on them, and they’ll catch him. And you don’t have to go out until they do. And if you do—”

“I just hate all of this—” She broke off at the knock on the door. “And now the PCPD is here to ask me questions I don’t know the answer to.”

“They’ll have to accept that, okay? Let’s just get this over with.” Jason opened the door, frowning when he didn’t recognize the man on the other side.

“Detective Harper,” Elizabeth said, a bit surprised. “I didn’t know you were working this case.”

“We need all the warm bodies we can get,” Harper said, stepping in. “I, uh, had a few questions.”

“Yeah, I figured. Um, Jason, this is David Harper. Detective, I mean. We met earlier this year, I think.”

“Yeah, at the wedding.” Harper was looking down at the notepad he’d pulled from his pocket and didn’t see Elizabeth flinch. “My questions are actually for you, Mr. Morgan.”

“Me?” Jason echoed. “Why?”

“Because Sam McCall filed a report of assault and named you as the assailant.” Harper lifted his brows. “She said you threatened to kill her. So I need your alibi for night. And if you could tell me where you were on October 31 and September 14, that’d be great.”

+31

Written in 58 minutes.

Kelly’s: Dining Room

“She’s probably gone by now, don’t you think?” Elizabeth asked. She picked up her order, and made eye contact with Frankie, the guard that had followed her to the diner that night. “Come on.”

“I used to hate all the guards,” Robin said as Frankie held open the door for both of them. “But after the last few weeks—”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Elizabeth smiled faintly at the guard. “Not that I don’t appreciate it—”

“Wouldn’t like being followed either,” the guard said with a shrug. “But orders are orders.”

They walked the short distance to the parking lot, Frankie walking beside them, stopping at the first row of cars. “Where are you—” Elizabeth began, but then Robin stumbled. The guard caught her. “Whoa, are you okay?”

“I—”

Then there was a crash, an angry swear, and footsteps running away—fast, as if they were being chased. Elizabeth whirled to see where the sound was coming from as Frankie pulled his gun, holding it low, scanning the parking lot.

“Oh my God!” Robin cried. She fell to her knees. “Oh my God, call 911!”

Elizabeth turned back and lost her breath. Robin was kneeling next to a woman—

Sam.

“Is she—” Elizabeth had her phone in her hand as she rushed to Robin’s side, kneeing down, but even before she’d finished the sentence, she saw the open, glassy-eyed stare, the way Sam’s head limply rolled to the side. “Oh God.”

Robin pressed two fingers to Sam’s neck. “She’s dead.”

“Both of you—” Frankie barked, roughly taking Elizabeth’s arm, tugging her to her feet. “Back inside, now. Now!”

Elizabeth didn’t bother to argue — and neither did Robin. Sam had been dead only a matter of minutes, maybe less. And the footsteps?

Her killer making his escape. And if not for the guard at their side—

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“Why do they always have to ask about symbolism?” Spinelli muttered, flipping rapidly through the book. “Who cares what the whale means? It’s a whale.”

“What’s simbism?” Cameron wanted to know, climbing onto the sofa next to Spinelli, peering over his shoulder at the laptop on the coffee table and the book in his hand. “And is it like Free Willy? He jumped real high.”

“Symbolism. When something means something else. Maybe there’s no symbolism. Maybe the author wanted to make a buck. The Jackal is most perplexed.” He glanced over at Jason at the desk, scribbling something with numbers. “Is Stone Cold positive the Jackal shouldn’t search for this answer?”

“How hard did you try to answer it on your own?” Jason asked absently.

Spinelli grumbled. Felt like Jason was a lot more like a father now that the little ones had moved in. Maybe he was practicing for teenagers on his own. He missed the guy who barely noticed him.

“So Willy means something else?” Cameron furrowed his brow. “I don’t get it.”

“You and me both, Little Dude.” He pinched his brows. “There’s this captain guy and all he wants to do is get this whale, right? Ahab wants to hurt Willy.”

“That’s not okay. Willy’s good.”

“Yeah, the Jackal doesn’t get it either. But I’m supposed to know what the symbolism of it is, and I don’t get it. Like the guy is just obsessed with the whale. Why does it have to be more complicated.”  He slid another glance at Jason. Would he even know if Spinelli did a quick search—

“You need to think about it for at least ten more minutes,” Jason said, and Spinelli scowled.

“I help,” Cameron said. “I fight sometimes. With Jake. He steals the rabbit. I steal him back. Then he steals it again. And I think hard to get it back. Does that count?”

Spinelli frowned. “You know what—a little, yeah. Thanks.” Cameron beamed.

The cell phone at Jason’s side rang, and Jason picked it up. “Hey—what? Where are—”

Spinelli watched with wide eyes as Jason shoved the chair back and was already halfway to the closet to yank out his leather jacket. “I’ll be right there. Okay? I’ll be right there.”

He clicked off the phone, his eyes a bit weird. “Spinelli—”

“I got the munchkins, no worries. Go where you need to go.”

“Thanks.”

Jason left, not even stopping to say goodbye to Cameron or to Jake in the playpen across the room. Most strange, and a bit worrying with Fair Elizabeth not at home. Spinelli closed his computer, put away the book. “Little Dude, why don’t we play a video game?”

Elm Street

Jason jerked the SUV to stop, pulling over to the curb, his blood bumping when realized the parking lot was cordoned off. Another car squealed to a stop behind him.

Jason slid out of the driver’s side, and frowned when he recognized Patrick Drake. “What are you—”

“What—” Patrick swallowed hard. “Robin called me. Is Elizabeth okay?”

“Yeah. She called—” Some of the tension released. Patrick wasn’t here for another reason. “Elizabeth said she’d found a body in the parking lot. I didn’t wait for details.”

“Me either.”

They both stepped onto the sidewalk, heading towards the barricades. “Damn it, I knew I should have dragged Robin to Vegas,” Patrick bit out. “They’re never going to let us back there—”

“You can’t go any further.” As if on cue, a uniform held up a hand. “Diner is closed—”

“My fiancee is in the diner,” Jason said, trying to not to be irritated. The cop was just doing his job. “She called me—”

“Mine, too,” Patrick interrupted. “Okay? And mine is pregnant, and I’m a doctor, so I need to make sure she’s okay. Robin Scorpio. Find the commissioner. He’ll tell you I can—”

“No one goes through,” the officer said blandly. “I don’t care if you’re dating the president’s daughter. I got my orders.”

“This is bullshit,” Patrick said, and Jason thought the doctor might take a swing. He took him by the arm, tugged him back. “Hey—”

“They’re inside the diner with the cops. And Elizabeth has a guard. He won’t let either of them out of his sight until I’m there.” And just saying that out loud, reminding himself that he’d spoken with Elizabeth. That Robin had been the one to call Patrick—

“You’re telling me to listen to the cops, to sit back and wait? Didn’t you break into the hotel last year because they sucked at their jobs?” Patrick demanded.

“Yeah, and the place still exploded, and I ended up getting Elizabeth trapped in an elevator, so not exactly my best effort,” Jason retorted. “Getting arrested isn’t going to make any of this easier, so knock it off—”

“You know what—” Patrick took a deep breath, exhaled in a rush. “Okay. Okay. I know you’re right. I just—” He closed his eyes, dragged his hands through his hair again. “Second time. Second time Robin’s been this close to a murder. That night—God, that night, she switched places with Leyla. Could have been her. It’s making me a little nuts.”

“Yeah, okay. I get that.” Jason couldn’t blame the guy. Even as he’d reminded himself Elizabeth was safe with a guard — it didn’t help as much as he wanted it to. He wouldn’t feel right until he saw her. “They’ll let us back there as soon as they’re done with the statements.”

Kelly’s: Parking Lot

Lucky swallowed hard as Sam’s body was tucked away, zipped inside the body bag. “This doesn’t make sense.”

“It doesn’t fit the profile all the way no,” Robert said. “Solo victim. No signs of ligature—looks like a broken neck. Like he just—” He made a gesture with his hands, and Lucky’s stomach swirled.

“I’m gonna go inside, take Robin and Elizabeth’s statements,” Lucky said. “Sam wasn’t dead long—”

“Yeah, I’ll go with you.”

On their way in, in the courtyard, a uniform stopped Robert. “Uh, we got two angry guys at the barricades. Claiming their fiancees are inside—”

Lucky exhaled slowly. “That would be Jason—”

“And Patrick. Which answers a lingering question I’ve had,” Robert quipped, though the tension in his face conflicted with the humor in his tone. To the uniform he said, “Hold them off. As soon as we’re done with our wits, we’ll release them. I don’t want anyone else on the scene.”

Inside the diner, most of the patrons had already been questioned and released. Elizabeth and Robin sat at the table, along with a taller man Lucky didn’t recognize. A different uniform was holding them.

“Dad.” Robin leapt to her feet and nearly jumped into her father’s arm. Robert hugged her tightly, kissing the side of her head. “Oh, God, it’s so awful.”

Lucky turned his attention to Elizabeth, pale and shaken. He pulled over a chair. “Hey. How you holding up?”

“Not having a great night, but I’m—” She picked at her fingernail. “But you have questions, so—”

Robin returned to the table, and to her seat. She reached for Elizabeth’s hand, squeezed it. “Yeah, I want to get this over with. I called Patrick—”

“Yeah, he’s at the barricades along with Morgan. So as soon as you’re done,” Robert said, remaining standing, “we’ll get you on your way. Did either of you see Sam before you found her in the parking lot?”

“Yeah, um—” Elizabeth scratched her eyebrow, exchanged a troubled look with Robin. “She came in. And we definitely, um, well, it wasn’t friendly.” She glanced at Lucky then dropped her hands into her lap.

“Still a little bitter after her breakup with Jason?” Lucky said, wishing like hell he’d made Mac do this. What kind of universe kept forcing him to deal with Elizabeth during this investigation? First Georgie, then Emily, now— “And probably not happy that he moved on.”

“Yeah, she was…unhappy. But Robin and I sort of…God, this sounds terrible now,” she muttered.

“We weren’t friendly right back,” Robin admitted. “She took a shot at me, about not having kids because of my HIV, and I might have called her the barren one—which, now, of course, sounds even worse. But—”

“But she left. She didn’t get the reaction she wanted, I think, so she left,” Elizabeth said. “Robin and I were already on our way out, but I wanted to wait. I didn’t want to deal with her again in the parking lot.”

If they’d left right after her—oh, man.

“When we went to the parking lot, I, um tripped over her leg,” Robin said. Her voice trembled for a minute. “And then we heard sounds—footsteps—”

“There was something that fell. I don’t know. Something metallic crashed, and I thought I heard a voice,” Elizabeth added. “But then running. I told Frankie—” She looked at the man with them. “He’s…Jason wanted someone with me after Emily…”

Lucky straightened, the horror of what might have happened. Sam’s killer had still be in the parking lot. And he’d only left because Robin and Elizabeth hadn’t been alone. “He was waiting for two women to leave a public place,” he said. He looked at Robert, saw it sink into him. “Do you think he was inside?”

“Someone left when Sam came in,” Robin remembered. “Oh my God. Oh my God—” Her hands shook. “Oh my God.”

“Sam left first,” Elizabeth said. “Oh God.”

“We’ll get security tapes.” Robert looked at the guard. “Do you have anything to add?”

“No,” the guard—Frankie, Elizabeth had called him—said. “As soon as I realized what was going on, I got them back inside, and called 911. But Miss Webber is right. Definitely someone swearing and running away. I kept close to both of them, just like I’m supposed to. He would have seen me as soon as they got into the parking lot. We passed under a light.”

“But we weren’t together inside,” Elizabeth said to her guard. “You sat by the door.”

“So he didn’t know Elizabeth had a guard.” Lucky nodded. “Okay. Okay. I don’t have anything else for you right now. I’m going to check in with Mac.”

“I’ll stay here,” Robert said. “Walk them out to the barricades.” He squeezed Robin’s hand. “Not ready to let my little girl out of my sight.”

“You and me both,” Robin said with a sigh.

Lucky left them in the diner, went back out to Mac who was overseeing the crime scene unit. “They heard him running away,” he said immediately. Mac looked at him, frowned. “Elizabeth and Robin were going to walk out together, but Sam showed up first. There were words exchanged, and Sam left first. Robin said someone left just as Sam came in.”

“You mean—” Mac scrubbed a hand down his face. “Oh, damn.”

“Our guy saw a woman in the parking lot, grabbed her, hit her in the head—and when he realized she was alone and wasn’t the right target, he eliminated her and waited for the ones he wanted. But they had a guard with them and he wasn’t ready for that.”

“Holy hell.” Mac had to take a deep breath, lean over. “You telling me my niece is alive because she happened to run into Elizabeth and a guard hired by the mob?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” And what if Elizabeth hadn’t left him? What if she hadn’t moved in with Jason? Would she and Robin have been alone in this parking lot? What if it had been Elizabeth’s body Lucky stood over—three weeks after losing Emily— “We’re pulling security tapes.”

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll finally get a break. Get our eyes on this guy.” Mac rubbed his eyes. “I need to go. I have to make the notification.”

Across Town

A bookcase crashed to the ground, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t release the frustration. Nothing was going right—nothing was the way he wanted it—

The table was flipped next, and then he heaved it into the wall, feeling nothing when the leg snapped off. His chest heaving, his heart racing — he slumped to the ground.

Failure. That’s all he was. All he’d ever be. He’d spent weeks planning the first set. His perfect girls. The college roommates. The perfect pair. He’d learned about their habits, found just the right way to make sure they’d be alone—

And then that sweet, lovely release when he’d slid the wire around the second girl, knowing that he’d found his perfect pair.

The second set, his second pair, had almost been perfect. He’d felt it rushing through him — but then he’d learned about his mistake. Not a pair. Not good enough.

Tonight, he’d meant to fix it. To create another perfect pair to complement. One doctor, one nurse.

Instead—he hissed, digging his fingers into the threads of his carpet. Instead it was even more wrong. It was another failure. All he’d ever do was fail, that’s what they’d always said, that’s what his father had always said, just another fail—

But he’d showed his father hadn’t he?

He crawled over to the desk, still standing, using it to haul himself to his feet and looked at the photos of his perfect girls. His Georgie Jones and Chelsea Rae, laying next to each other, preserved forever in this moment.

He just needed to think. To take a breath. He couldn’t rush it. That’s how tonight had happened. He’d rushed it. He hadn’t made sure of his quarry.

And that woman didn’t even count. No, she wouldn’t count. She was just a mess he’d needed to clean up. She didn’t deserve to be one of his girls. One of his perfect pairs.

No, he’d just have to find another way to fix it. To make Robin Scorpio finally pay for escaping her fate one too many times — it was her fault that Elizabeth Webber was going to die. It was Robin Scorpio’s fault for all of this, and he was going to make sure she paid for what she’d put him through.

He smoothed out the photo of Georgie and Chelsea. And then when Robin and Elizabeth were dead, he could take their photo, and then he’d have three perfect pairs. He’d be finished.

He would be more careful next time. Make sure that he was ready for a possible third victim. Just like the woman tonight. She’d taught him to be prepared for obstacles.

And next time, he’d be ready.

+32

Written in 65 minutes.

Patrick’s Condo: Living Room

“That’s the last one, I promise,” Robin said, watch Patrick grimace and drag the last suitcase in from the hallway. “I don’t even know why I packed everything — I won’t fit into it in a few months. And I could have helped—”

“No.” Patrick closed the door. “It would be just my luck that your dad and uncle would get here with the boxes and they’d see you lifting something. They’d never find my body.”

Robin furrowed her brow, but realized he was only half-joking. “I’m barely two months pregnant,” she protested, following him into the kitchen where he got a glass of water. “You have to let me do some things.”

Patrick leaned back against the counter. “Hey, if you really wanted to carry a suitcase, it’s not like I tackled you.” He smirked. “Admit it, you kind of like it when I force you to take a break.”

She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes, then sighed. “Yeah, maybe a little. You’re the only one who does.”

“See? We understand each other.” He brushed a kiss against her forehead, his lips lingering. “Are you hungry? Or tired?”

“You’ve been reading the books again, haven’t you?”

“Week 9, fatigue and cravings set in.”

“Just a walking encyclopedia,” she grumbled but he wasn’t wrong. She opened the fridge and searched until she found the strawberries she’d stashed earlier. “Um, so about Thursday. I know I sort of told you that you had to go, but I know it’s not really your thing.”

“No, but I’ll remember this when I want you to go to a NASCAR race,” he quipped. “As long as your dad doesn’t pull out a shotgun, we’re good.”

Robin bit her lip. “Yeah, so about that. Dad didn’t really ask me anything when I told him, but if he brings it up—” She fumbled for a knife to slice the strawberries. “Um, we haven’t talked about it—”

“It’s an option that’s on the table if you want it.”

Her fingers stilled, and she looked over at him. “What?”

“But that’s not a proposal,” Patrick continued. “If you want us to be married before the baby’s born, that’s okay with me. But I know it’s not what you want. To be married because of the baby. And I know you’re still unsure about all of this, about me, so I’m not going to ask until you are.”

“Who are you and what did you do with Patrick Drake?” she asked suspiciously. “You couldn’t run fast enough when I started talking about kids—now you’re talking about marriage without having a panic attack—and you probably know more about what’s going on in my body than I do—”

“There was a moment,” Patrick said quietly, “that night when I thought you were the other victim.”

She closed her lips. “Patrick—”

“They said it was two women. And I knew you were going out that night. I knew you and Emily were together. I couldn’t wait for an elevator, and even the stairs wasn’t fast enough. I  was convinced that I would get to the lab and you’d be gone, and then someone would tell me  you were dead.”

He cleared his throat. “And then I saw you, and you were alive. After that, everything I was worried about—the future—it just seemed like it was stupid. I didn’t want to fall in love, but there you were and I did. And I didn’t know if I’d be a good husband or a father, and you deserved both, so I thought, I’ll let her go so she can be happy. Because that’s what I wanted.”

He hesitated. “But then that moment came, and I realized that I wanted you more. And if I could learn how to be in a relationship, I could figure out how to be a father. I know it feels like I changed my mind overnight, but I’d been trying to think through it since we broke up. Elizabeth can tell you I was already halfway there before I found out you were pregnant.”

“Why was that night different from the hotel?” Robin asked. “I almost died six months ago.”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I knew the whole time you were alive. You were hurt, and I couldn’t be there. But I didn’t know you weren’t laying dead in a parking garage until I saw you.” He sipped his water. “But like I said, I know this is happening fast for you. So until you’re sure, we’ll hold off. But in the interest of keeping your uncle and your dad from going for the shotgun, maybe you could just tell them I asked.”

“Yeah. That seems fair.” She slid her arms around his waist and leaned up to kiss him. “I love you. I know that much.”

“I love you, too.” He kissed her again, cupping her chin. “And the rest of it? We’ll get there when we get there.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Watching Cameron race around the room, chasing an opponent only he could see, no one would believe he’d woken in the middle of the night with a sick stomach.

“Should we be letting him run around?” Jason asked, appearing in the kitchen doorway, Jake in his arms. “Maybe he should rest.”

“I was just thinking that, but he woke up without a fever. And he ate every bite of breakfast.” She made a face, then turned to face him. “And we’ve never been that good at getting him to take it easy.”

“No, that’s true.”  He went back into the kitchen to set Jake into his high chair. The infant had woken late and was just showing signs of watching something to eat. “Spinelli was out of here early.”

“Yeah, I think he was worried we’d ask him to do more laundry.” She smirked and went over to sink to rinse the breakfast dishes and stow them in the dishwasher. Then her hands hesitated over the faucet. “Did you have a chance to talk to him last night?”

“No, I got in too late. And we only talked for a minute in the laundry room. Why?”

“He came in from Kelly’s and went to lay down in his room. He was quiet and upset. He, um, had a run-in with Sam at Kelly’s.”

At the mention of his ex-fiancée, whom they hadn’t spoken of since Halloween, Jason froze, looked at her. “What?”

“I don’t know much about it, other than Spinelli felt in necessary to clarify to her that they weren’t friends anymore. Um, it just…I guess, after Halloween—” Elizabeth shrugged. “I just wondered why she’d bother with Spinelli when she hasn’t in months. At least that I know about.”

“I don’t know.” Jason sat down next to the high chair, twisted the top from the jar of baby food. “I forgot about that night,” he admitted.

“Yeah, so did I.” She sat at the table, watched him feed their son for a minute. “It got lost in all the rest of it. What—um, what did you say when you got rid of her?”

“Same thing I told her in August. To back off you and the boys.” Jason glanced at her, then focused on Jake again. “And maybe I suggested no one would look that hard for her if she went missing,” he admitted.

Elizabeth blinked, stared at him. “Oh.” That was certainly something she hadn’t expected. “Um—”

“I wouldn’t—” Jason grimaced, and she knew it was because he hated talking about of anything. He didn’t want his work in their home, and he didn’t like that she knew anything about that side of him. “I wouldn’t. Unless I  thought she was a threat.” He winced. “Not that she isn’t—”

“She’s looking to cause trouble,” Elizabeth said. “Which isn’t the kind of threat you need to worry about. I get it. She tried to latch on to Lucky—which explains why he was going so hard at the beginning. With her in his ear, yeah. But I guess he backed off, and she’s angry about that.”

“She’s also pissed because of the trial and Diane’s cross-examination. I wasn’t interested in protecting her. Not after Jake.” Jason met her eyes. “I don’t know how to make her stop bothering you or Spinelli. I’m sorry.”

“We’ll just take it one step at a time. I just thought you should know she’s still around.” She rose, kissed the top of Jake’s head. “I’ll go do the dishes.”

PCPD: Squad Room

“Good work,” Robert said, sitting next to Lucky’s desk, peering over the list. “Ten names is a great place to start.”

“I tried to eliminate more of them, but based on the DMV database, these ten fit the profile you put together. They’re average height and build, and they all have a connection to the hospital and the campus.” Lucky leaned back in his chair. “Most of them work for the security company. The hospital and PCU contract with the same one, and once we got the subpoena for their employee information, it went faster.”

“What about the rest of them? What’s the connection?”

“They’re outsourced employees for the security. Most electronics. I put them last,” Lucky continued, “because access to the cameras and how they work wouldn’t mean they know the layouts of the crime scenes.”

“No criminal records?”

“No. Nothing more than bumps or scrapes. At least that I can find. I, uh, thought you might have some contacts at the FBI and WSB that would know more.” Lucky paused. “Do you think our guy is on this list?”

“I think it makes the most sense. And if we can get this list down even further, we can follow them. Try and get some DNA. All it takes is one thrown away cup or bottle.” Robert scrutinized the list again. “It’s good work, Spencer. Ten names is better than the hundred or so we started with. I’ll see if we can knock it down some more.”

Robert rose and headed down the hallway towards Mac’s office, and Lucky breathed his first easy sigh in a weeks. He hoped like hell he’d done something right and that they’d find this guy before he struck again.

Kelly’s: Dining Room

“Hey!” Robin grinned as she returned from the bathroom and found Elizabeth at the counter. “What you are doing here?”

“I called in an order for dinner,” Elizabeth said, smiling as the doctor slid back onto the stool. “Patrick let you out of his sight?”

“Ha. You joke, but it’s not that far off,” Robin muttered. “He got called into surgery, and I had a craving for Ruby’s chili. How are you? I feel like we haven’t seen each other since…” She trailed off.

“Good. Things are—we’re managing. I think it’s going to get harder with the holidays coming,” Elizabeth admitted. “I can almost pretend it isn’t real because we didn’t always see Emily every day, but Thanksgiving at the Quartermaines without her? She’s never missed a single Christmas Eve with Cameron, and—” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I should ask you the same.”

“Yeah, it’s the holidays that are bringing it back. Just when you think you’ve got a balance and you’ve come to terms with it—” Robin swirled her spoon in her chili bowl. “It hits you all over again. And it shouldn’t still feel fresh. But it does.”

“You forget for a few moments, and when you remember, it’s like it happens all over again.” Elizabeth tucked her hair behind her ear. “Cam still asks for her sometimes. He looks at her picture on the mantel, and asks. But I’m glad. I know one day—”

“She won’t be more than a picture to him. Yeah, that’s how I feel about this baby and Georgie.” Robin smiled wistfully. “She’d be such a good aunt, you know? She’d balance Maxie.” She took a deep breath. “But I try to focus on what I have. Patrick keeps surprising me. It’s like maybe he secretly wanted a kid all along and now he gets to show it.”

“I think it’s freaking him out how much he does want it,” Elizabeth told her. “It’s like he spent a decade telling himself he wasn’t into monogamy and kids and love — but it’s almost like that player personality he moved here with was just a shield, you know? Because it’s been you for him since the beginning.”

Robin bit her lip, then smiled. “You’re not wrong.”

A waitress came out with Elizabeth’s order and Robin asked for her chili to be wrapped up. “I’ll walk out with you,” Robin said, and rose.

The bell behind them jingled, and they both turned to see Sam coming in, sliding past another customer. Elizabeth grimaced. The last thing she needed.

Sam’s face lit up when she spied them at the counter and sauntered towards them. “Well, hello. Isn’t this great timing? All of Jason’s exes in one spot. The brunettes anyway.” She raked her eyes over Elizabeth, then Robin. “He sure has a type, huh?”

“I don’t know. I think Carly and Courtney would have something to say about that,” Robin said dryly, taking her bag from the waitress.

“Oh, God, don’t remind me about either of them.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Do you have any idea how much grief I went through with Carly? Not as much as you.”

“I still have nightmares about her,” Robin said.

“Well, you know, maybe Jason was just searching for someone who could actually have children,” Sam retorted, clearly irritated that her dig hadn’t landed.

Robin furrowed her brow. “That one doesn’t make any sense. Carly and Courtney had kids. I’m pregnant. Aren’t you the only barren one here?”

Sam’s nostrils flared. “How dare you—”

“I wouldn’t start with that one, Sam, since you were clearly showing my HIV in my face with that kids crack. Shows how much you know. Not very bright, is she?” Robin said to Elizabeth, who tried not to snicker.

“You—”

“Sam, can you just get to the point?” Elizabeth said. “I get it. You hate me. You hate my kids. And you want Jason to be miserable. Message received. Have you thought about getting a life?”

“You think this is over because you’re wearing his ring?” Sam spat. “I was engaged to him, too. It’s not hard to get him to do that—”

“This is really sad, you know that?” Robin made a face. “It kind of reminds me of every time Carly tried to corner me about being the only one who really understood Jason. At least she’d do it in private.”

“You, too, huh? Man, she’s really predictable.”

“I hope you both choke on your self-righteousness,” Sam spat. Then whirled around to leave.

“She is a deeply unpleasant woman,” Robin said, watching her go.

“You have no idea. Let’s wait a few minutes,” Elizabeth suggested. “Make sure she’s gone. I really don’t want to deal with her in the parking lot.”

Kelly’s: Parking Lot

He’d slipped out of the diner just as Sam McCall had entered, ready to make his move. He’d waited for days until both his targets were in the same place — in the right place — and now they were leaving together — it couldn’t be more perfect.

He lingered just behind the brick wall separating the parking lot from the courtyard, listening for the telltale jingle of bells, knowing his quarry were on their way out.

He heard the footsteps, saw the dark hair woman walk past him. He leapt out, his crowbar raised to crack her across the face. She never saw him — but when she slumped to the ground, and he turned to get the second woman —

There was no one. She was alone.

He hissed, turned back to the woman and kicked her until she fell onto her back, her face visible in the moonlight. She was already coming around, her word slurred. “What—what—

She wasn’t the right woman! Damn it—his targets were still on their way out, and now he had a witness—

Well. Not for long.

+26

Written in 62 minutes.

General Hospital: Nurse’s Station

“I have to go to Thanksgiving this year,” Patrick said, slapping a chart down in front of Elizabeth. “So I need you to find a way to get me out of it.”

She lifted her brows, but didn’t bother to look up as she continued to complete the insurance paperwork. “Hey, you decided to go all in. That includes holidays and family celebrations.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Her family likes you.” And now Elizabeth did look up. “Count yourself lucky. I had to marry and divorce twice before Gram decided Jason wasn’t so bad.”

“Yeah, well when other options are Ric and Lucky,” Patrick muttered. He leaned over the counter. “But her family liked me before she got pregnant. And now we’re living together.”

“It’s been forty-eight hours since she decided to move in. You said she didn’t even finish moving her things over—” Elizabeth rose from the chair, and picked up the notes for her rounds. Patrick followed her. “Do you think Robert or Mac is going to have a shotgun ready?”

“Do I think the police commissioner and former WSB legend are going to ask questions about marriage? Yes.” Patrick made a face. “So if you could find a way to fake an emergency—”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, stopping at a patient door, and plucking their chart from the plastic holder. “Holidays are part of the package, Patrick. Just smile and nod, divert uncomfortable questions to Robin, and you’ll be fine.”

“Must be nice to be so confident,” Patrick muttered. He leaned against the hallway. “Are you guys going mansion or mob on Thursday?”

“Dinner at the Quartermaines with my grandmother, and then dessert with Sonny.” Elizabeth looked at him. “Patrick. You’re going to be fine. You remember that you used to be charming, right?”

“Yeah, but—it was easier to turn on all that—” He gestured to his face. “You know, you flash the dimples, and you got what you wanted. I could do that before it mattered. Now it matters.”

“And that’s why you’ll be fine.” Elizabeth sighed. “If Robert and Mac want to focus on you and Robin, on the baby, and everything around it, let them. Because there’s going to be an empty chair this year. And every thing they throw at you is going to keep them from remembering that.”

Patrick exhaled slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. When you put it that way—” He paused. “You’re going to have an empty chair, too.”

Seventeen days since Emily had died. Only seventeen. It felt like a lifetime since that terrible night — and at the same time, as if it had happened an hour ago. “That’s why we’re going to the mansion. Jason…I worry about him sometimes,” she admitted. She bit her lip. “This stays between us.”

“Like a vault. You know that.”

“When Alan died last winter, it hit Jason really hard. You know, just regretting the time that was lost, and not giving Alan the same chances he gave Monica and Emily. He couldn’t really do anything with that first because, well, there was Jake, and the trial. But then Emily—” She hesitated. “I’m worried that he’s trying to make up for all that too fast. He takes the boys to the mansion every other day to spend time with Monica, which is great. But then he told me about Thanksgiving—”

She put the patient chart back. “I don’t know. It’s like all the regrets he has about things after the accident — he’s on warp speed trying to make up for them. And it’s how he’s dealing with losing Emily.”

“What’s the worst that could happen? So he’s forcing himself to give his family another chance.”

“Well, it’s the Quartermaines, so there’s that. I don’t know. He ran so far and so fast from all of that—” Elizabeth shook her head. “And maybe it’s because I know it’s what I’m doing. I’m spending too much time at work and when I’m at home, I’m obsessing about the boys or Spinelli. Because I don’t want to stop and think—”

He touched her shoulder. “It hasn’t been that long yet, Elizabeth. You gotta give yourself a break.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.” Elizabeth flashed him a smile. “And that’s how I know you’ll be okay on Thursday. You know how to listen. Just let Robin take the lead, and follow her.”

She turned down another hallway, and Patrick headed out to his own rounds. Sam slipped around a corner and started after Elizabeth. The PCPD wasn’t moving fast enough to do anything about Jason, she thought bitterly, so she needed something else.

Maybe perfect Elizabeth would screw up at work and Sam could use that to ruin her life—what if she could get the bitch suspended—

“Sam, what are you doing here?”

Sam jolted, turning to find her mother stepping off the elevator. “Uh, Mom. Hey. I could ask the same for you.”

“Just a follow up with the doctor. A scan. Still in remission,” Alexis added. She wound her arm through Sam’s. “I was going to stop off and check in with a client who’s having surgery, but since I came across you, what do you say we get lunch?”

“Yeah. Yeah. All right.” Grateful Alexis hadn’t pushed her on why she was at the hospital, Sam followed her mother back on the elevator.

Wyndemere: Foyer

“Did you swim here?” Nikolas demanded darkly when he found his sister on his footstep.

“No, the launch pilot isn’t the only one who can drive a boat.” Lulu shrugged. “And you just told him he wasn’t allowed to bring me here. No one ever said I couldn’t get myself over here.  Dillon knows how to drive a speedboat.” She followed him into the study. “I just wanted to tell you that I wouldn’t come to bother you anymore.”

“Oh—” Nikolas poured himself a drink. “You came to bother me about promising not to bother me? That’s funny.”

“No, I came to tell you I’m not going to bother you at all. Which means I won’t tell Lucky I’m worried. I won’t complain to Dillon or Spinelli about you. I know what you did to Lucky, and until you figure out how to apologize for it, you’re not worth my concern.”

Nikolas scowled, looked at his sister. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You threw pills at him, Nikolas. At our brother, a recovering addict who’s trying hard to stay clean. Even though he just got divorced, lost custody of his kids, and buried his best friend. How much more do you want to throw at him—”

“Ah, I see Lucky figured out how to make you feel responsible for him—” Nikolas smirked, sipped his drink. “He’s good at that. Didn’t you listen to Elizabeth on the stand? I paid for his lawyer because I felt sorry for him. We both worried he’d fall back into drugs if we abandoned him. Welcome to the club, Lu.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a real pair of winners as brothers. A martyr and an asshole. And I’m a selfish bitch, so I guess Mom is three-for-three with the kids. Good thing she’s not here to see how we turned out.”

Nikolas rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic—”

“Really? I broke up a marriage last year, Nikolas. Just like you did. Emily and Zander? You could have kept your distance and you didn’t. And you slept with Courtney—someone else’s wife—”

“Shut up—”

“Woes you with the traumatized wife who was raped by a man who looked like you,” Lulu shot back. “Poor little Nikolas who wants to blame everyone else for his problems. Why don’t we all just think about what you’ve lost? Forget Lucky, who knew Emily longer. Forget Emily’s family who already buried Alan this year. Forget Elizabeth who’s been through hell. No, no, let’s just worry about poor baby Nikolas who can dish it but can’t take it.” She sneered. “I’ve been worried about you, but you’re just fine over here, feeling sorry for yourself. But where were you last year when I needed you? Where were you two years ago when Grandma dumped me on Dad who couldn’t bother with me? Where were you when your wife was traumatized and needed patience and understanding?”

She shrugged. “You know what, I think I’m going to be better off without you. Lucky didn’t do a damn thing to you. He asked for your help with the custody case, and you gave it. Suck it up, and admit the only reason you and Emily weren’t together when she died was because you’re a selfish asshole. Until you do that? We’ve got nothing left to say to each other.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Mac dragged his hands through his hair. “Well, we have our link.” He looked up at Robert. “Too bad it doesn’t tell us anything.”

“No, I guess it doesn’t.” Robert took the DNA report back. “Other than a single killer is responsible. When we find him, we’ll nail him to the wall for all four murders—”

“When we find him—” Mac rose and went to the window. Looked out over the trees with their falling leaves, the mixtures of oranges, yellows, and browns littering the lawn outside the PCPD. “If we find him.”

“We’ve got him. He waited six weeks between the college and the hospital—” Robert grimaced. “I know there’s a chance he won’t wait that long again, but women on alert, aren’t they? The hospital hired extra security. So did the campus.”

“And what about the parking lot by the mall? What about the park? What about the thousands of public spaces in this town? And maybe it’s not about the age of the women. Maybe it’s not about their hair. Maybe it’s not even about women,” Mac muttered. “Maybe it’s just about public killing and the thrill of taking two at a time. What if he escalates to three or more? What if—”

“What if the sky turns orange? You know better, little brother, than to let those kinds of questions drag you down—”

Mac shook his head. “Thanksgiving is five days away. Last year, Georgie spent half the day in the kitchen with Robin, and now—”

“Now she won’t be there. I can’t imagine the depth of your loss, Mac. The thought of losing my daughter—” Robert’s throat tightened. “It’s beyond my comprehension. But we aren’t miracle workers. We have DNA. That’s more than a lot of cases have. Georgie fought hard, and she’s going to help put this bastard away. That’s going to matter one day.”

“Yeah. Maybe. But it won’t be enough.” Mac looked at Robert. “Maxie said something, just before the second set of murders. And it’s stayed with me. Finding out who did this, finding out why he did this—it’s not going to change anything. It won’t ever explain why there’s going to be an empty chair at every dinner for the rest of my life. It won’t ever be enough.”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Jason jolted awake, but then wasn’t sure what had woken him. The room around him was dark, quiet. Elizabeth was curled on her side beside him, her breathing still deep and even, so whatever it was, it hadn’t stirred her. She’d once been a deep sleeper, but the boys had changed her, making it harder for her to sleep like the dead anymore.

Jason closed his eyes, slid closer to hold her in his arms, kissing her bare shoulder, then tried to go back to sleep—

But there it was again—and this time, the sound was louder, and Elizabeth rolled over on her back. “What was that?” she asked, her voice slurring from sleep. “Jason?”

“I don’t—” He looked past her at the monitor on the nightstand, the little black and white images. The camera was aimed at Jake’s crib and he could see their son laying on his back, his head turned to one side, his chest rising and falling. But just beyond that, they could see the outline of Cameron’s bed, and the blanket was rustling.

And they heard it again, louder. A gagging, hacking sound, then crying. Jason sprang to his feet, followed by Elizabeth as they rushed across the hallway. Jason shoved open the door, and Elizabeth flipped on the light.

Cameron was sitting up, his face red, tears streaming down his cheeks, his fingers clutching his blanket. He gagged again, and Jason realized that he was throwing up, the vomit landing on his blanket, his pajamas and around his mouth.

“Baby, hey—” Elizabeth knelt down next to the bed and Jason went to the linen closet just a few steps away in the hallway. He dragged out a stack of towels, plucking the largest. He returned to the room just as Jake woke and started crying. Elizabeth was stroking Cameron’s head.

“Does he have a fever?”

“No. Cam—”

“Tummy—” Cameron hitched another sob. “Hurt.”

Jason knelt next to Elizabeth, taking in Cameron’s glassy eyes, red face. “Do you want to call a doctor? I can—”

“No, no, there’s no fever—” Elizabeth brushed Cameron’s hair back. “Let’s just clean him up, um, some ginger ale—”

“Can I help?”

Jason glanced to the door, finding Spinelli there, one side of his cheek red from sleep. “Hey, we—”

“Actually—” Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder at the crying infant. “Okay. Okay. Jason, can you clean Cam up? He’ll feel better with a warm bath and new pajamas. I can throw all of this in the laundry—”

“I’ll do that, Fair Elizabeth,” Spinelli said. “The Jackal has a very strong stomach. You should  calm Stone Cold the Sequel and get Little Dude his munchies.”

“Oh, Spinelli, you don’t have to—”

“Thanks,” Jason said, interrupting. He wrapped Cameron in the towel and scooped him against his chest. “That would be a lot of help.”

“The Jackal reporting for duty.”

Jason went across the hall, back into their bedroom, and into the master bathroom. He set Cameron down on the counter to start the water running. “How are you feeling, buddy?”

“Throat hurt,” Cameron managed, but his sobs had quieted. Jason touched his forehead, but Elizabeth was right — he was cool to the touch, and she’d know better. She was a nurse and had more experience—

Jason peeled off the pajamas, wrapping them into the towel, and then set Cameron into the tub after making sure he’d dumped some of the bubble bath Elizabeth kept on the shelf. He used a water glass to pour water over Cameron’s head, carefully cleaning him up but making sure the water didn’t get into his eyes or mouth—

“How’s that?”

“B-better,” Cameron managed.

Spinelli appeared in the doorway. “Fair Elizabeth sends clean jammies and a new towel for the Little Dude, and I’m here to fetch the, uh, soiled materials.” He made a face as he set down the pajamas and towel, then picked up the rolled up towel Jason had set aside. “She went to get the munchies.”

“Thanks,” Jason said.

“No worries. How’s the Little Dude feeling?”

“Snelli,” Cameron managed. “Tummy hurt.”

“Less orange soda at bedtime,” Spinelli said, nodding sagely. “The Jackal takes the note.”  He left then, and Jason lifted Cameron from the tub, wrapping him in a fluffy, warm towel. He took the pajamas into the bedroom with him, and sat on the bed, rubbing Cameron’s back.

Elizabeth came in a moment later, holding Jake on her hip and balancing a pack of crackers and a can of ginger ale in her hand. “Hey, baby.” She sat on the bed next to them, putting Jake down in the middle of quickly arranged pillows. She cracked the ginger ale. “Sip slowly, honey.”

Cameron nodded and did as instructed. Then he ate a cracker slowly, in little nibbles. Time passed excruciating slow as Elizabeth repeated the process. A sip of ginger ale, then another cracker, eaten slowly. Behind them Jake fussed, but then fell back into a doze.

Finally, Cameron started to droop. “Feel better,” he said, his eyes closed. “Tummy okay.”

“All right. Let’s get you into jammies and back in bed.”

“Wanna stay here,” Cameron said, opening his eyes briefly. “Comfy.”

“That’s fine with me,” Jason said, brushing his lips against Cameron’s drying curls. “But clothes first.”

“Kay,” he murmured.

Jason handed Cameron to Elizabeth to change, then went to put the towel in with the rest of the laundry. He found Spinelli in the room downstairs, peering curiously at the dials. “Oh, you can hack into any network in the country, but a washing machine defeats you?”

Spinelli made a face. “Lots of buttons,” he muttered. “And Fair Elizabeth does my laundry. How’s Little Dude?”

“Better. Ready to go back to bed.” Jason started the washer. “Thank you, Spinelli. Sorry to wake up.”

“No worries. That’s, um, what family does, right?” Spinelli folded his arms, looking at the washer. “All hands on deck.”

“Yeah. That’s what family does. Go back to bed, okay? You have a paper due on Monday. And no, I didn’t forget,” Jason said.

Spinelli grumbled as he followed Jason up the stairs. “Family is overrated,” he muttered, but went into his room.

Jason returned to his bedroom. Elizabeth had returned the sleeping Jake back into his crib and was tucking Cameron into their bed.

“Go sleep?” Cameron asked, snuggling against the pillow. “Tired, Daddy.”

“Yeah, we’re going to bed.” Jason slid under the comforter, and Elizabeth did the same on Cameron’s other side. He switched off the light. “Good night.”

“Night,” the toddler sighed. “Tummy all better.”

+31

Written in 59 minutes.

Morgan Penthouse: Kitchen

Elizabeth pulled out the tray of chicken nuggets vaguely shaped like dinosaurs. “A few more minutes, Cam,” she told her son who bounced in the booster seat that made him tall enough to sit at the kitchen table.

“Then I eat roshus dinos.” Cameron played with the bright green plastic utensils, banging them against his plate like drums. “Yummy nuggets.”

“Yeah, really haute cuisine.” Elizabeth reached for her vibrating phone in her back pocket, and made a face when she saw Jason’s note that he’d be late. He’d spent the day with the boys while she worked, and then they’d traded — he’d headed into the warehouse, and she’d taken over for dinner.

“Mommy mad?”

“Mommy tired,” Elizabeth said, then slid the phone back in her pocket. “Daddy’s going to home late, so he’ll miss bedtime, okay?”

“Okay.” Cameron wrapped both hands around his sippy cup, then tipped it back. Elizabeth filled his plate with dino nuggets, then tucked the extras away in the oven to keep warm. She set the child lock on the oven door.

“I’m going to go get your brother up from his nap so he can eat dinner. You okay to eat by yourself for a few minutes?” she asked, turning on the monitor they kept in the kitchen.

Cameron bit into one of the nuggets, ripping off the head of the dino, then growled. “Grrr!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Elizabeth jogged up the stairs, then paused when she realized Spinelli’s bedroom door was ajar. She thought he was out with Dillon and Lulu—but then realized his lamp was on, and there was a lump on the bed. “Spinelli?” she tapped the door. “Did you want something for dinner?”

“The Jackal ate,” he said glumly.

She hesitated, then pushed the door open a bit more. “Are you all right? It’s not like you to go to bed early.”

Spinelli sat up, his hair mussed from spending most of the day beneath a beanie cap. He looked a bit pale and clammy. Worried, she perched on the edge of the bed, pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you sick?”

“No. No. The Jackal had an unpleasant experience,” he muttered. “Confrontations make him sick.”

“Confrontation…” Elizabeth tipped her head. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Spinelli glanced away, traced a seam in the comforter with his fingers. “At Kelly’s. There was—” He paused. “Sam.”

The one word name without any type of nickname didn’t make Elizabeth feel any better either. “I’m sorry. I know you were close with her. You can still be friends with her if you want—”

“No, no!” Spinelli’s eyes widened. “The Jackal couldn’t. Fair Elizabeth does not understand. He—” He closed his eyes. “Adult,” he muttered. “I am an adult.”

“Spinelli?”

“I…knew,” Spinelli managed, his face twisted. “About Maureen Harper. And Sam.”

“Ah.” Elizabeth nodded. “Jason told you?”

“N-no. Well, y-yes. But I investigated for Stone Cold. He suspected something,” Spinelli admitted. “And then she tried to hurt him at the trial, and then she wanted you to lose the custody. But she was there today. And wanted to be friends. The Jackal had to tell her no.” He drew his knees against his chest. “Don’t like bad conversations.”

“I’m sorry, Spinelli.” Elizabeth touched his shoulder. “It’s hard when you think you’re friends with someone and they do something to hurt you. And it can be really hard to tell them. I don’t like to do it either. I mean, that’s how this all got started, you know? Lying about Jake. I was afraid to tell anyone, and I didn’t until I was forced. It’s brave to do it willingly. Without a perjury charge hanging over you.”

Spinelli’s smile was faint. “But Stone Cold is very happy you did. And so is the Jackal. This is the nicest place he’s ever lived.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He nodded.

“Why do you refer to yourself in the third person? You almost never say I or me. You don’t have to answer it, but I was just curious.”

He considered the question for a long quiet moment. “When I was a kid,” he said softly. “My parents were gone. My mother died when I was a baby, and my dad was never in the picture. Granny raised me, but I liked computers and science and cartoons and silly things. The kids teased me a lot in school, and it was hard to—I never had any friends.” He paused. “Going to school was the worst but I had to go every day because Granny didn’t believe in quitting.” He bit his lip. “At night, I used to lay in my bed and tell myself stories where I was the hero, but it wasn’t me. Couldn’t be me. And the Jackal was brave. He was funny and handsome and had many friends. Family. Good things never happened to Damien, but they could happen to the Jackal. But maybe Damien could just go away and bad things wouldn’t happen anymore.” He shrugged. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, Spinelli.” She squeezed his knee. “I hope you know that we love you here. Not just me and the boys. Jason does, too.”

“He puts up with me.”

“If that was true, he wouldn’t still let you live here,” Elizabeth said. “He never let Carly live here, did he? And he definitely just puts up with her.”

His smile was faint. “The Valkyrie is an acquired taste, he tells me.”

“Well, Dillon and Lulu like you. Georgie liked you,” Elizabeth said softly, and he nodded. “You have friends now. If you want to still be the Jackal, that’s okay. We’ll always love him. But Damien is part our family, too. And I hope you feel safe enough to let him out more.”

General Hospital: Lobby

Robin tugged her tote bag over her shoulder, tired down to her bone marrow. She stepped out of the elevator, waiting for Kelly and Lainey to follow. “I’m going to sleep for a week when I get home,” she told them.

“We’ll drink your share of the wine, don’t worry,” Kelly promised, putting an arm around Robin’s shoulders.

“You should always call Patrick. I bet he’d give you a foot massage,” Lainey teased. “But then he’d just ask you to move in again, so maybe going home is the best idea.”

“Yeah, talk about running hot and cold,” Kelly said. “Do you know how many messages he’s left me about the next appointment? I told him to write the questions down, but—”

They turned a corner, heading for the lobby and the exit. Robin’s steps slowed when she saw a familiar dark head on a bench, bowed over a book.

Patrick. Reading another book with a pregnant woman on the cover. He didn’t know what time she was leaving today — couldn’t have known she’d see him. So he really was reading this books — and leaving Kelly’s messages.

“I’ll talk to you guys later,” she said to her roommates.

“Uh huh, sure.” Kelly took Lainey’s arms in hers. “Come on. Let’s go get a security guard to walk us to our cars.”

Robin sat next to Patrick and he jerked his head up, snapping the book shut. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing. I thought you worked this morning.”

“I did. I had a surgery that ran late, and I’m waiting to hear from the ICU in an—” He checked his watch. “Five minutes. If the vitals are good, I can head home.” He furrowed his brow. “Why are you alone? You weren’t going to the parking garage were you?”

Instead of answering, Robin reached for the book he’d been reading and flipped through it. Pages were highlighted — and there were post-its, tabs—notes in the margins. She opened to eight weeks. “A raspberry seed,” she said. “That’s how big the baby is right now.”

“You know, you go to medical school,” Patrick said, “and you learn this stuff, but it’s different when you’re actually talking about a real baby. Raspberry seeds are barely visible. But organs are developing—the baby has eyes—”

“Retinas,” Robin corrected. “And then tail is nearly gone, so there’s that.”

“Good thing. Would make diapers hard. I’ve seen them — not really a good place to put the tail.” But he smiled, took the book back. “You’re eating enough fruit? That’s what the book says about this week.”

“Plenty.” Robin tipped his head. “You’re…really into this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I am.” Patrick took a deep breath. “But I talked to Elizabeth and I get it. You need to be sure, so I’m not pushing you. I just—I want to be what you need. So if what you need is me to back off—”

“What I need…” Robin tipped her head back, considered the question. This baby had been conceived on a night she’d been at her lowest, desperate to stop thinking and feeling. Her sweet little cousin was gone forever. And now so was Emily—

Life was short. How many times did Robin need to learn that?

“What I need right now is a bubble bath and a nap.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I’m tired all the time. And it’s hard in the morning. Do you really want to be there for morning sickness?”

He slid his arm around her shoulders, tucking her more firmly in his embrace. “I want to be there for everything, Robin. Whatever you’re ready for.”

“You might regret that tomorrow when I’m hanging over the toilet.”

His arm tensed. “Robin?”

“You’re getting shades for the windows. I can’t be woken up like that every morning. It’s not negotiable.” She lifted her head. “I love you. And you love me. And I think we both already love this baby. That’s enough for me. Let’s go home.”

Spencer House: Living Room

“I’m just worried about him,” Lulu said, pacing in front of the fireplace. “He won’t return my calls, he banned me from the island, and you’re probably right there, too. And if that’s not enough, Spinelli’s acting weird, and Dillon’s pretending everything is normal, and I’m—” She frowned, looking at her brother sitting at the table by the chairs. “Are you listening to me?”

“Sure.” Lucky crossed off another name from the campus access list. “Every other word. Sometimes I get two in a row.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You told me earlier that you were going to help—”

“And I tried.” Lucky leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. “I went to the island, and it didn’t work. So we’re just going to have to let this play out—”

“You went over? What happened? Did it look like he’s sleeping or eating?”

“He’s definitely drinking.”

“Lucky.”

He sighed, set down his pencil, and looked at her. “Listen. I don’t want to get into it with you. You love him, and you’re concerned. I’m not doing anything to get in the middle of that.”

“But—” Lulu bit her lip. “Is he still blaming you?”

“He—” He grimaced. “He threw a bottle of pills at me and told me that was all I was good for.” And it had taken everything in him to set those pills aside. To push away the chance for it all to go away. To lose himself in nothing.

If he went under again, he’d never drag himself back out. Couldn’t give in.

Lulu’s hands fell to her side. “He—he threw pills at you.”

“I didn’t take them. You can call him. I left them on his desk—”

“Lucky. Don’t act like this isn’t important—”

“It’s—” Lucky rose. “Lu. This is who Nikolas is. Who he’s always been. When he gets angry, he lashes out. He always apologizes later. He’ll let you back in soon, okay?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Lulu’s eyes were dark with concern. “That was a cruel thing he did to you, and I’m sorry. You lost Emily, too. He’s not even thinking about that.”

“No, he’s not. Because Emily was his one true love.” Lucky’s smile was wry. “Just like Elizabeth was mine. We sure have a hell of a way of treating the women we profess to love, huh? We both cheated on them.”

Lulu folded her arms. “Are you, um, are you okay?”

“Yeah. I went to a meeting. I’ll probably go to another tomorrow. It’s fine, Lu. I’m not going to crack. Not this time.” Lucky flexed his fingers. “I don’t have much else to lose, you know? I lost my wife. My kids. My best friend. My brother. If I can lose all of that, and still stay clean, that’s a good thing.”

“It’s a very good thing. And I’m proud of you—no, don’t do that. Don’t like it doesn’t matter. Like what you did wasn’t hard,” Lulu said. He met her eyes. “Every day you stay clean is important. It matters. You had pills in your hand, Lucky, and you put them down. You walked away. A year ago, you wouldn’t have done that.”

“A year ago—” Lucky sighed. “Yeah, okay. I guess I would have.”

“I love you. Can I—can I go to a meeting with you, or something? Is that allowed?”

“Yeah.” He went to her, drew her in for a hug. “Yeah, that’s allowed.” He kissed the top of her head. “I love you, too.”

Greystone: Living Room

“Hey, sorry for the late night—” Sonny said, tossing a folder on the desk. “A few more things, and you can head out—”

“It’s fine.” Jason checked his phone, but there wasn’t anything new. “Shipment was all set, and we’re good for tomorrow, too.”

“Yeah, this one just needed your hand on it. Zacchara was getting bitchy about letting my underlings handle it.” Sonny rolled his eyes. “I hope he has another stroke,” he muttered. “Anyway—uh, I wanted to let you know that I checked with our guy at the PCPD. About the case.”

Jason grimaced. “And?”

“Nothing. They’re working some leads, but they don’t have much more than they did before. The guy’s DNA isn’t in the system, and there haven’t been any good sightings of him.” Sonny shook his head. “I was hoping we could get something we’d be able to work with. A way to help track something down, but—” He looked at Jason. “I’m sorry. There’s a chance they don’t catch this guy before he gets someone else.”

Jason exhaled slowly. “What about motive? I mean, they don’t have any idea why he’s doing this?”

“No, and the profile of the victims is too broad for them to do anything else,” Sonny said. “Otherwise, they’re telling every women between the ages of 19 and 40 not to travel alone or even in pairs. How do you do that without scaring the shit out of everyone, you know?”

“Yeah.” Jason scrubbed a hand over his face. “Elizabeth has a guard when she goes out with the boys, but she really don’t go anywhere else. Ford won’t let her have a guard in the hospital, so Cody meets her in the parking garage by the elevators. I don’t love it, but the alternative is having her driven to work and dropped off and picked up—”

“Which still gives someone an opening if they want it. No chance we can get her to quit her job? Tell her to go back to her art or something.”

“She likes nursing,” Jason said. “And I’d rather save that kind of question for when we need it. Like if Anthony Zacchara goes crazy again, like the time he killed his own wife.” He shook his head. “Plus, why would this guy hit the parking garage again? He didn’t go to the college again.”

“Yeah, there’s that.” Sonny nodded. “Okay. Well, it was worth a shot.”

“Yeah, thanks for checking on the case.” Jason paused. “I asked her that night, you know. To marry me.”

“I wasn’t—” Sonny paused. “I knew you were planning it, but I wasn’t sure. And I didn’t want to ask. I figure the answer was positive?”

“Yeah. Um, I’m brining it up because we’re going to—December 21 is the date. You know usually you’d be my best man, but—” Jason’s chest was tight. “Elizabeth doesn’t want a maid of honor. Because…”

“It was supposed to be Emily.”

“Yeah. So if she’s not going to have anyone—”

“That makes sense. I’m sorry. You’re sure you don’t want to wait until you’re feeling a bit more…” Sonny squinted. “I guess happier isn’t the right word…”

“The divorce is finalized at the end of this month, and Elizabeth and I just want to move on. I don’t need anything but her at the wedding. She might—” Jason sighed. “She might regret it later, but maybe she won’t.”

“Then you renew your vows or something. Throw a party.” Sonny went to the door, opened it. “But right now, maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s enough to just have each other. You’ve definitely earned it.”

+32

Written in 59 minutes.

General Hospital: Locker Room

“Okay, you need to explain women to me, because I’ve clearly lost my touch.”

Elizabeth didn’t even look up from tying her shoe. “Women or pregnant women?”

Patrick dropped onto the bench beside her. “Both. Robin and I love each other. We knew that before we broke up. We said it. So it was accepted and understood. But then she decided she wanted kids basically now, and I wasn’t there, so we broke up.”

“Yeah, and?” Elizabeth straightened.

“Well, now we’re having kids and we still love each other, so—” He made a gesture with her hands. “Why does it feel like we’re still broken up? Shouldn’t it be null and void?”

“Ah. I’m starting to follow.” She rose, closed her locker, and pinned on her staff badge. “Did you propose or something?”

“No. I thought that would be too fast. I asked her to move in with me. Because you know, I need to be there. Every day. And she’s going to need me—”

“And she said no.”

“Yes.” Patrick raked a hand through his dark hair, disheveling it. “Can you tell me what I did wrong?”

“You know, Jason proposed to me when I got pregnant last year.” Elizabeth frowned. “He asked me to marry him three times, actually. And I said no every time. Even though all the things you just said were true. I was pregnant. It definitely would have been nice to have someone with me because I mostly did that single. But I still said no. Even though I loved him.”

“Women.” Patrick muttered. “You’re different—you were married to someone else—”

“I wanted to say yes,” Elizabeth said wistfully. “But I knew he wasn’t asking for the same reason I would have said yes. You’re asking Robin to move with you because she’s pregnant. She wants to be asked because you’re in love.”

“And both can’t be true at the same time?” Patrick said skeptically. “Yeah, women are the worst.”

“Patrick.”

He exhaled slowly. “I don’t mean that. I just—I messed everything up so much. I should have just said yes when she wanted kids, and then we’d be in a different space. But I messed up. I never get it right the first time with Robin, and I guess she’s out of patience now.”

Elizabeth sat down again, next to him. “Did you know you wanted kids when she brought it up?”

“No—”

“Then you did the right thing. I did the right thing last year. And now—” She held out her hand. “Now I have everything I ever wanted, and I know Jason loves me the way I wanted to be loved. You want everything right now. And Robin isn’t there. She doesn’t want to live with you because she’s pregnant. Because she’s going to get cramps and cravings and have trouble sleeping. If that’s the only reason you want to live with her, that’s not enough.”

“It’s—” Patrick furrowed his brow. “But I want to take care of her because I love her. Why can’t that count?”

“It can and it does, I’m sure. You might just need some patience.” Elizabeth stood again. “How are, um, feeling about the kid thing? Now that it’s had time to settle.”

“I don’t know.” He leaned against the locker. “I’m mostly focusing on the pregnant part of it. What comes after — that feels almost too big to think about. Thinking about having a whole person to take care of. But sometimes I think about it. You know, what will the kid look like? Will it be a boy or girl? Do I care which? And personality. Will they be like me or Robin, or a mix? Or maybe completely different—” He broke off, laughing a bit nervously. “Sorry. I didn’t meant to ramble.”

“I think maybe you’re a little excited about this,” she said, tipping her head.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “Terrified. But yeah, thinking about the baby is kind of cool. This whole person that didn’t exist before, but they do now, and you got to be part of it. Like—” Patrick held out his hands. “This human wasn’t here before, but now they are, and they’re a piece of you, and a piece of Robin, and it’s like, almost proof. That you can bring something good into the world that isn’t about being a doctor. I want—I don’t know if I’ll be a good father, but I want to be. That counts.”

“It absolutely counts.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m happy for you, Patrick. And for Robin. You’re both going to be amazing parents.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

“DNA should be back early next week,” Robert said, knocking on Mac’s slightly ajar door. “We’re lucky. Getting it in before the lab shuts down on Wednesday for Thanksgiving.”

“Thanksgiving.” Mac blinked. “I forgot about that. It’s next week.”

“Yeah.” Robert came into the office. “I talked to Robin last night. About the baby. What are you thinking about this?”

“Cautiously optimistic,” his brother said. “You?”

“Not entirely sure how my little girl got old enough to drive much less bring life into the world, but—” Robert sat down. “It’s a bright spot. Something good to focus on. And you and I will make pretty good grandfathers.”

“I would never—” Mac shook his head. “I’m her uncle, Robert. I would never—”

“You’ve raised my daughter. Finished off the job I didn’t get a lot of time to do,” he admitted. “And helped her navigate through some of the toughest pieces. Anna and I are in debt to you for the rest of our lives.” Robert sighed. “I had my reasons for not coming home, I promise you that. And I still mostly think they were good ones, but it cost me time with Robin I can’t ever have back. I thank God you were here.”

“Taking care of her—of Felicia’s girls—it was a privilege. An honor. Patrick—” Mac paused. “He’s a good guy. I didn’t always think so, but he’ll look after her. And he’ll be a good father.” He looked at the photo on his desk of his three girls. “You’re sticking around though, aren’t you? Not going back to the WSB or—”

“No. I don’t want any more regrets. I want to watch my daughter continue to move forward in her life and be part of it.” Robert got to his feet. “I was, however, thinking of reaching out to some old friends at Quantico. In the Behavioral Sciences Unit. We might want to get a profile to help us sift through what we have.”

“Anything to get this done,” Mac said. “I don’t want to bury another woman.”

Quartermaine Estate: Family Room

“Gammy—” Cameron raced past Jason’s legs and straight at Monica who swept him up in her arms, kissing his face as he giggled. Jason remained at the doorway, smiling faintly. Cameron’s shyness a few weeks ago had disappeared, and now Monica was one of his favorite people to visit.

“This is a wonderful surprise.” Monica tucked Cameron on her hip, then beamed as Jason held Jake out so she could kiss his cheek. “All three of my favorite people!”

“Then I guess I don’t have to apologize for just dropping by—”

“Never.” Monica squeezed Cameron again, then set him on his feet. She hugged Jason briefly. “How are you? Elizabeth?”

“Okay. The boys keep us distracted. Elizabeth wanted me to thank you again for watching them the other day when we finished Spinelli’s room.”

“Oh, more than happy to do that. Did he like it?”

“He seemed to.”

“I thought I heard voices—” Edward came into the room behind them, rubbing his hands together. “Is that my great-grandson I see there?” He reached into his suit pocket, and had a piece of candy ready as Cameron raced over to him.

“Hi, Grampy.” Cameron unwrapped the piece of chocolate and shoved it in his mouth in one quick gulp. Jason just shook his head. His grandfather was definitely conditioning Cameron to associate Edward and chocolate with each other, making Cameron thrilled to see him. Smart old bastard.

“Well, you’re welcome whenever you want to come over, but I’m sure that packing up two kids isn’t really a social call.” Monica sat down, and Jason put Jake in her lap. “You know I’d come to you—”

“I know. But elizabeth’s at work, and I don’t like to keep them in the penthouse all day every day. Cameron—” Jason looked over to find the toddler reaching for a knick knack on the shelf by the desk. “What are the rules?”

“Look, no touch,” Cameron grumbled. He came around the sofa and started to go through the bag Jason had brought with Jake’s diapers and found a set of cars. “I play right here. You see me.”

“Thank you.”

Cameron heaved a sad sigh at Edward who sat on the sofa next to Monica. “Daddy and rules. Too many.”

“Ironic to watch you enforcing rules in the same room where you rode your motorcycle,” Edward told Jason. “God certainly has a sense of humor.”

Jason made a face, but Edward had a point. “Don’t tell him that story until he’s at least thirty.” He sat in the chair by the sofa. “Uh, we came over because—” He paused. “Elizabeth and I set a date. For the wedding. We want it to be small. Quiet. She’s not—neither of us really want anything big. And she doesn’t want a party or anything. Just the ceremony, and maybe dinner or something.”

“I understand. Is it soon?”

“December 21, a few days before Christmas. You’re both invited,” Jason added. “Uh, Ned and Dillon, too, if they want to come.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” Monica squeezed his hand. “I’m very happy for you both. And grateful that you’ve—” She pressed her cheek to the top of Jake’s head. “This has helped so much. They’re a godsend. And having you. It doesn’t—it doesn’t replace what we’ve lost, but—”

“But it helps to have some light and joy,” Edward finished, a bit gruffly. “I’m sure they’ve been a comfort to you and to Elizabeth during these last few weeks.”

“It’s easier than it would have been.”

“I need to—” Edward rose. “I’ll return in a moment.” He left, and Jason talked to Monica about Jake, and how he was starting to move around. Once he told her that, Monica insisted on moving the coffee table to see it for herself.

Edward returned a few moments later, and they all enjoyed watching Jake wiggle his little boy and Cameron tried to demonstrate walking again, as if that would help.

Then it was time to leave, to be home for Elizabeth’s return from work. Edward followed them into the foyer.

“I wanted to—you obviously don’t have to—” He reached into his suit jacket, drew out a velvet ring box. “This was your grandmother’s.”

Jason shifted Jake to one side, and took the box, flipping it open with just one hand. Inside was the slim gold band that he’d seen on his grandmother’s hand once. She’d stopped wearing it a few years before she’d died, her hands a bit too swollen to fit it anymore. “Her wedding ring.”

“She always liked Elizabeth, and you were—well, she’d never have admitted, but you were her favorite. Before and after. You don’t have to use it,” he repeated.

“No. I mean, of course.” Jason exhaled slowly, his throat tight at the memory of beloved grandmother. One more person he’d lost. “I’d be—thank you.” He met Edward’s gaze. “It will mean a lot to us both to have it.”

“And—” Edward looked at his hand, then slowly slid off his own wedding ring. He stared it for a long moment. “I wasn’t always the best husband. But our marriage endured many difficult days and tough times. The day Lila put this on my finger was the best day of my life.  She bought it herself.”

Jason slid his grandmother’s ring box into his pocket then reached for the one his grandfather held. “I’ll ask Elizabeth. I don’t know if she has something from her grandfather, or—but thank you.”

“All right, we cleaned off all the chocolate,” Monica said, emerging from the bathroom off the foyer, Cameron’s hand in hers. “He’s ready to go.”

“One more?” he asked Edward.

“Uh, I think that’s enough candy for the day.” Edward ruffled Cameron’s curls. “Next time.”

“Never enough candy,” Cameron grumbled. “More rules.”

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Spinelli spooned up the last bite of his chili. “The Jackal protests the choice of any class where he must read another book. The Blonde One must take that into account.”

Lulu glanced up from the brochure with PCU’s spring semester schedule, then looked at Dillon. “What about you? Thinking about re-enrolling? You can help me outvote Spinelli, and we can take German Lit. It’s supposed to have the weirdest readings.”

“If it’s anything like German cinema,” Dillon said dryly. He folded his arms on the table. “But no. I’m still heading out after the holidays.”

“Spoilsport.” Lulu fluttered her eyelashes. “Please—”

Spinelli scowled. “The Blonde One must not use that look. The Jackal—” He stopped when the bell over Kelly’s door jingled, and Sam came in. She spotted the trio, and smiled brightly.

“Spinelli! It’s been a long time. How are you?” Sam came over to the table. “Lulu, hey. Dillon, right?”

“Right,” Dillon said, then pulled out his phone, pretending to very interested in it. Sam frowned, then looked at Spinelli.

“How are you? How’s school?”

“It is fine.” Spinelli shoved the uneaten spoonful of chili.

“What classes are you taking? Are you still—”

“The Jackal regrets that he must leave,” Spinelli said abruptly. He snagged his bag from the side of the table. “Much homework to do.” He started for the door.

“Spinelli,” Lulu called after him, frowning, but he’d call her later. He’d explain then.

But he wanted to go. He had to go—

Sam followed him into the courtyard, snagging his arm as he reached the parking lot. “Hey. What’s the problem? We used to be friends—”

He turned to face her, swallowing hard. He did not enjoy confrontations. “The Jackal—” No. No. He didn’t have to do this. “I know what you did, and I don’t want to talk to you.”

Sam stepped back, her mouth falling open slightly. “Spinelli—”

“I know what you did with Maureen Harper. And I know you tried to hurt Stone Cold by working with Detective Dingus—” No. No, he could handle this like an adult. She had to take him seriously. “You tried to make Lucky hurt Stone Cold and his family. We are not friends.”

“Spinelli—”

“Goodbye.” He nodded, then hurried out of the parking lot, leaving her speechless in his wake.

+33

Written in 67 minutes. I went over because I ended up writing a Jake thing later that I refused to take out, lol.

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

“It’s not getting any easier,” Robert told Lucky as they left Mac’s office and walked down the hallway towards the squad room. “I don’t know if the daily meetings are helping or hurting.”

“Neither,” Lucky muttered. There hadn’t been anything new in days — waiting on DNA reports to come back, outside vendors were being bitchy about turning over employee lists—

He tossed his case file on his desk. “All we have is a general build. And it’s average. He could be anyone.” He looked at Robert. “How can four people be dead, and we have nothing?”

“It’s what makes this job difficult, Spencer.” Robert leaned against the desk. “You have crimes committed in public. Well-liked victims who had large family networks ready to step up and help if only they knew anything. We have DNA. We know how the crimes were committed, down to the minute on this last one. And yet—”

“Nothing.”

“There’s a case out in California,” Robert continued. “It came through the FBI office when I was doing some WSB work out there. Guy raping and killing his way through different areas. Still unsolved, mind you. He’s left witnesses. Nearly got caught a few times. And people are terrified in their homes.” He shook his head. “They have his DNA, too, Spencer. Sometimes you can have all the pieces except the most important.”

Lucky put his head in his hands. “I just—I keep looking at all these names, and these lists, and I’m writing up damn warrants because the security company from the college doesn’t want to turn over their employee list or who they contract to. How do I get them to cooperate?”

“You let the court do its work. Or—” Robert considered the question, then leaned to the side to dig his phone out of his pocket. “You leave an anonymous tip with the Herald’s crime beat reporter about the lack of support.”

Lucky sat back. “We’re not supposed to leak anything—”

“No, we’re not.” Robert shrugged, then straightened. “Ah, well. If Mac asks, you’ll be able to say you didn’t know anything.” He picked up Lucky’s case folder, flipped through it. “This the warrant for the security company?”

“Yes—”

“I’ll just make a copy.” He lifted his brows. “For my own records.”

Lucky watched Robert leave the room, then shook his head. Robert Scorpio, the legend, could get away with bending the rules. And maybe it would shift something loose. He pulled out his own cell phone and found a few voicemails, including from Lulu.

He listened to it, then sighed. Time to put away the cop, and pull out the brother. He’d put this off too long.

Scorpio House: Living Room

“Uncle Mac.” Robin got to her feet as the man in question came through the door. “Good. You’re, uh, here.”

“Is there anything new?” Maxie asked, lunging to her feet, her eyes wide, desperate. “Did you find something?”

“No. We’re working some leads, but nothing yet.” He hung up his jacket, then came over to the sofas, kissing Maxie on her forehead, then hugging Robin. “Sorry I’m later than I wanted to be, but—”

“No, I appreciate—I appreciate you making time. I have something I wanted to tell both of you. So, uh—” Robin gestured. “Just, um, sit down, I guess.”

Mac pulled Maxie down next to him. “Are you all right? Is—”

“I’m fine. I’m just—” She laughed a bit nervously, then bit her lip. “I have something to tell you,” she repeated. “And it’s good news. I’m—I’m pregnant. I’m going to have a baby.”

Mac stared at her for another long moment as Maxie’s eyes widened. “Pregnant,” he repeated.

“Is that—I mean, you’re happy, so obviously it’s safe, but um—” Maxie jumped up to embrace her. “Congratulations. Right? You said it was good.”

“It is good.” Robin hugged her back, relieved to see her cousin smiling. “And it’s relatively safe. Kelly’s keeping a close watch. There’s some medications I have to take, some extra testing. But my viral load is basically invisible. Rate of transmission is almost nothing. I mean, there’s always a risk, but—”

“Pregnancy takes two,” Mac said, slowly rising to his feet. His brow furrowed. “Patrick?”

“Y-yes. And before you say anything—Patrick is completely on board. He’s…he took it  better than I did,” Robin admitted. She smiled. “He’s already bought out the local supply of pregnancy books. He keeps one on his locker for quick reference, Uncle Mac. He’s not running from this.”

“Uh huh. I thought you’d broken up because he didn’t want kids.”

“We did. It wasn’t planned.” Robin crossed her arms. “After Georgie, I just—I needed someone,” she said softly. “And he was there.”

“But if he didn’t want kids,” Maxie said, “how do you know he’ll stick? I mean, my dad wanted them and you don’t see him here,” she said darkly.”

“I don’t know,” Robin admitted, and Mac’s expression darkened. “He’s said he will. And I believe that he believes it. It’s just…we’re feeling our way through this. Patrick is not the bad guy, Uncle Mac. Promise me you won’t harass him. This isn’t the 1950s. I make really good money, I could do this on my own—”

“You aren’t on your own.” Maxie lifted her chin. “I’m here. Your baby will be the best-dressed kid in the state. And Uncle Mac will be the best grandpop. He’ll probably give the kid a police escort, and—” Her voice faltered. “Georgie would have babysit every day if you’d asked, but she can’t do that so I will. I’ll be the best aunt ever.”

“I know you will, sweetie.” Robin rubbed Maxie’s back, her own throat a bit tight at the thought of Georgie who absolutely would have been supportive and present. “This is good, Uncle Mac,” she repeated to her uncle. “I wanted to be a mother, and I never thought I could be.”

“It wasn’t planned,” Mac said. “Is Patrick…?”

“He’s been tested. All systems are good. He’ll have to be tested a few more times, um, you know how that works.” And they were both aware that Robin hadn’t tested positive during her first test. That had come later, just before Stone’s death. “It’s different now. Stone had AIDs, Uncle Mac. The odds of me testing positive were so high—Patrick isn’t any more likely to test positive than the baby.”

“Okay. Okay. I wasn’t—” Mac took Robin by the shoulders. “I wasn’t expecting this. But you look happy. And Patrick’s…I might want to kill him,” he admitted, “but I’m glad he’s taking it well. I reserve the right to hurt him later.”

“You won’t need to. I’m happy. I am.”

Mac folded her into his arms, and Robin clung to him tightly. “I’m so glad I get to share this with you. You’ve always been there for me, and I couldn’t imagine you not being there for my child.”

“I will always be there for you.” He kissed the side of her head, then reached out pull Maxie into the hug. “For my girls. The best I can.”

It was a sweet moment, Robin thought later, but they were all aware that someone was missing, and it was a piece of their hearts that would never be filled.

But life would go on. There wasn’t much choice in that.

PCPD: Squad Room

Sam stepped up to the desk. “Hey. It’s Detective Rodriguez, right? Do you remember me?”

The cop smirked. “Yeah, I remember you. Did you need something?”

Sam wanted to smack him for the way he was looking at her — probably remembering her humiliating trips to the PCPD to visit Jason while he’d been held for Alcazar’s murder — or even worse, that terrible day she’d had to give testimony and it had been broadcast on local television—

She lifted her chin. “I wanted to check the status on a report I made a few weeks ago. On Halloween.”

Rodriguez lifted a brow, then went over to the computer at the desk, tapped a few keys. “I don’t see any report with your name on it from that date. What was the charges?”

“Well, I don’t know the legal term. But Jason Morgan assaulted me and threatened my life. I came in that night. I made the report to Lucky Spencer.” She sighed. “I suppose he was distracted with everything that happened after that, you know? He was going to pull tapes from Kelly’s. It happened in the courtyard.”

Rodriguez looked back at her. “Spencer took the report?”

“Yes. I gave him a statement and everything. Do you think it fell through the cracks? I’d understand, of course.”

“Well, if he took the statement, he might not have gotten around to putting it in the computer. Why don’t you come with me, and we’ll get that done now?”

“That’s great. I appreciate this. Thank you so much.”

Sam followed the detective into the interrogation room, careful to keep her expression somber even though she was beaming on the inside.

Sometimes it was almost too easy to cause a little chaos.

Wyndemere: Foyer

Nikolas dragged the heavy front door open, then scowled when he saw his brother on the other side. “Remind me to tell the launch pilot you’re banned from the island,” he muttered. He started to close the door, but Lucky slapped it open.

“What, like you’ve banned Lulu? Nikolas—”

Nikolas just rolled his eyes, stalked back towards the study where he poured himself another drink. “You find out who murdered Emily? Because that’s the only way you’re getting back—”

“You blame me because Emily wasn’t speaking to you at the end. That’s fine. I blame me for it, too. I didn’t reach out, and I made mistake after mistake,” Lucky bit out. “She was my oldest friend, and she could barely look me in the eye the last time I saw her. Do you think that’s easy for me, Nikolas? Do you think that I don’t hate myself for letting it get there?”

“Then why—”

“Because I didn’t know it was the last time I’d see her!” Lucky exploded. “I didn’t know that the last words we’d ever exchange would be angry. It kills me! To know that I was still so damned selfish, such a damned coward, that I couldn’t take a step back and see what I was doing to the people around me—Lulu was so upset by what I’d done she testified against me, and Elizabeth—” His voice broke. “You heard her on the stand, Nikolas. I saw for the first time what I’d done to her, how all of this came back to the things I’d done—”

“So you agree. This is your fault—”

“My actions are my fault. I didn’t call Emily after the custody hearing. I buried myself in work because I thought if I found Georgie’s killer, I’d feel better. I’d feel like a person again, not some damned drug addict who destroyed his family at every turn—” Lucky’s hand fisted as he raised it. “But you don’t get to stand there and act like you’re the only one who lost Emily. We all did—”

“I don’t give a shit about your guilt. I hope you drown in it. Better yet—” Nikolas rummaged around in his desk. “Here. Here—” He threw a bottle at his brother, and it hit the ground, rolled across the floor.

Lucky stared down at the orange bottle, then raised his eyes back to his brother. “What is that?”

“Pain meds I never took after the hostage crisis. Go ahead. Take some pills, Lucky. That’s all you’re good for—”

Lucky crouched down, picked up the bottle. The pills — no more than ten of them — rattled inside. He stared at them. Oxycotin. His drug of choice. They’d made everything go away once. He could float on that sweet wave of nothing. There’d no pain. No guilt. No hurt. No sickness in his stomach. He wouldn’t even remember how hard it had been to go to the penthouse. To see evidence of his sons living there. To remember how the diamond on Elizabeth’s finger had glinted in the light.

He wouldn’t have to remember losing Emily.

“It took a long time for us to become brothers,” Lucky said quietly. He raised his eyes to Nikolas who had gone to the fireplace, was staring into the flames. “Mostly because of me. Because I refused to see past your last name. To look past everything I knew about your family. But Emily made me see you differently. And Elizabeth. They cared about you, so I could see something worth knowing.”

He walked across the room, set the bottle on the desk. Unopened. “They made us brothers, you know. But now they’re gone. Elizabeth can’t stand to look at me, and Emily’s dead. And you and me—we’re done now.”

“Lucky—”

“We’re done.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth pushed open the door, and immediately laughed. “What are you doing?”

Jason, seated on the floor, his back against the arm of the sofa, looked up with a half-pained, half-amused expression. He held Jake around the middle, letting the infant’s legs dangle to the ground. And Cameron was marching up and down in one spot. “Cameron is trying to teach Jake to walk.”

“Walk? He’s still figuring out how to crawl.”

“Mommmy.” Cameron looked at her with an almost pitying expression. “He needs to know how legs work.”

“Uh huh.” Elizabeth tossed her purse and the mail she’d grabbed from the security downstairs on the desk, then dropped down to her knees. “Do you know how you learned?”

“I got up and walked. I very smart, Mommy.”

“You are.” She reached for Jake and Jason released him. “But babies have to figure out all their body parts. So first—” She laid Jake on his tummy, and immediately he squawked. “He’ll learn how to pull himself around and develop his muscles.”

“That takes too long.” Cameron scowled. “Tell him to learn faster.”

“Oh, okay, we’ll try that.”

Jake, still unhappy about being dumped on the floor, raised himself on his tiny fists, then seemed to pause as his little palms flattened against the floor.

“Hey, Jake.” His head twisted to look at her. Elizabeth gestured with her hands, beckoning towards her. “Can you come here? Come here.”

Jake furrowed his brow, looking so much like his father, then he wiggled his body, and then—he moved. He rocked and wiggled, dragging himself towards his mother. Elizabeth clapped. “That’s it!”

“He’s like a worm,” Cameron said, a bit mystified. He wiggled his own body. “See? Just like that—”

But it worked, and Jake reached Elizabeth. She scooped him up in her arms, hugging and kissing his face. “That’s my baby. Now—” She set him back on his tummy, and he grunted, unhappy. “Go to Daddy.”

Jason grinned. “Jake?”

At the sound of the familiar, deeper voice, Jake twisted his head. Then his face broke out in a grin that seemed to match his father. Jason held out his hands. “Jake.”

He wiggled his little body until he reached Jason who did the same as Elizabeth, scooping him up. Elizabeth beamed. “He’s scooting!”

Cameron shook his head, as if sad for them. He wasn’t impressed by his little brother. “I go play. This not fun.” He rolled his eyes and headed for his toy bin. Jason got to his feet, setting Jake at his side so he could haul Elizabeth up.

“He’s not impressed, but I am—” Elizabeth kissed Jake’s face again, then leaned up to kiss Jason. “Hey.”

“Hey. I tried to get Cameron interested in that earlier, but maybe we needed two adults.” Jason stroked Jake’s back. “I remember the first time Michael moved on his own. I wasn’t even sure how it happened, but—”  He looked down at his son and Jake touched his face. “Do you think he’ll skip walking and go straight to running like Cam?”

“God help us.” Elizabeth laughed, then started to sort through her mail. Her smile faded as she took in a manila envelope with the court house as a return address.

“What is it?” Jason asked, watching her open the envelope.

“Official divorce papers,” Elizabeth said. “It’ll be final on November 28.” She sighed. “All of that seems like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?” But it had only been three weeks since the custody hearing. Two weeks since they’d lost Emily. She exhaled slowly. “Diane left me a message, too, while I was at work. Adoption paperwork was accepted. They’re going to be in touch to schedule a homestudy.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” She flashed him a smile, then touched Jake’s shoulder. “It’s just…Robin and I were talking the day of the funeral, and it’s…it sneaks up on you. Life keeps moving forward, and you feel guilty. Because I have this gorgeous baby who is doing something new every day, and I have you, and you’re perfect. And Cam. And I just—I want Emily to be here, too. And she won’t be.” She swiped at her face, turned away, so that Jake didn’t see her.

Jason wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her back against his chest. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I want her here, too.”

“I want a small wedding,” she murmured. “Just you and me and our families. I don’t need a party. Or a celebration. Or even a dress. And no maid of honor.” She turned to look at him. “Because that’s supposed to be Emily. Is that—is that okay?”

“That’s fine. I just want to be married to you. But Emily wouldn’t want you to give up anything you wanted—”

“I’m not. I just want you and the boys and the people who love us. That’s all I need.” She slid her arm around his waist, tucked herself into his side. “Before Christmas. Okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

+30

Written in 61 minutes.

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

“We’re still waiting on full toxicology reports,” Robert began, handing a copy to Mac, then to Lucky, “but we have the full autopsy now for both.” He sat across from his brother, slid on his reading glasses. “I wanted to talk about the ways in which the crimes were similar and how they were different to see if we can add anything to the profile we’re developing.”

Lucky skimmed the report. “I’m not seeing anything new. Is there something I’m missing?”

“Only if you compare it to our first case.” Robert cleared his throat. “We have Georgie and Chelsea walking on the path. The cord is found around Chelsea’s neck, which indicated she was the second victim. Her alcohol levels were much higher than Georgie. Our killer attacked Georgie first — the more alert of the two. Chelsea likely wouldn’t have known anything was wrong until she was grabbed as well.” Robert flipped through the photographs in his folder. “Compare these defensive wounds.”

Mac braced himself, took a deep breath. “Okay. Chelsea didn’t fight as hard.”

“I’m sorry, Mac—”

“No. No, I can do this.” He scraped his hand down the side of his face. “That makes sense. The only way to attack a pair of women on your own is to incapacitate one of them.”

“He would have had to follow them,” Lucky said, and they both looked at him. “How else would he have known which girl to grab first? He wasn’t laying in wait for them at that location. He followed them there, and attacked as soon as he was outside of the camera angle. Which means he knows the cameras on campus.”

“Now, we come to the parking garage. He also knows those camera angles,” Robert continues. “Because his face is never seen. I don’t believe in blind luck twice over. He knew the shift changes. Our guy has access to both locations. Again, we knew this. But it’s the way he had access. Not just anyone is going to know about the security in each location.”

“That’s true,” Mac said. “What about the new case? We know he knocked both women out—”

“But not unconscious. That’s what we’ve learned from the full autopsy. Leyla Mir was knocked fully unconscious. The wound to Emily would have only dazed her, but it was enough to get her off her feet.” Robert set out the photographs of the hands. “Leyla has no defensive wounds. Emily’s are more consistent with Chelsea. There were skin cells, but not in the amount we found on our first two girls.”

“Why kill in pairs?” Mac murmured. “What’s the significance of that? And what’s their connection? Physically, yes, they’re all under the age of 30 with dark hair, but that doesn’t feel like enough.”

“I’d say it was the location,” Robert said, “but it wouldn’t explain why it’s two. It would be far simpler to go after just one. In order to get pairs, he has to either target specific women or lay in wait for the right women. And we know he stalked Georgie and Chelsea leading up to the murder.”

“The campus is big,” Lucky said, and they looked at him again. “Spread out. Georgie and Chelsea had classes in different buildings. The only time he’d be able to find them together at night would be going into the dorm or coming from a party. He sent flowers to the dorm room to test security. He probably thought it would be funny to send fresh, then dead ones. But I think it was the deliveries themselves that were important. Security’s not great, but it’s a well-lit entrance at night. He couldn’t have done anything to them there.”

Lucky paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “The cell phone calls. We thought maybe it was to lure Georgie from the party — but maybe it’s simpler than that.” He looked at Robert. “Couldn’t he have been tracking them? We have both their phones in evidence. Did we look for viruses or anything else?”

“I can make a call and get a more detailed report.” Mac snatched up the phone. “That last call from the party. If he was tracking them—”

“He’d know where they were to follow them. And Georgie and Chelsea always went to parties together. Anyone following them would know that.”

“He doesn’t need to use the same methods at the hospital,” Robert realized. “It’s one building. And keeping track of staff is easier. You can just ask at the lobby where a doctor works. And most of the time, they work in the same place. All you’d need is their schedule. If you already have access to the hospital security, getting that isn’t hard. Then it’s just a matter of picking your moment. So we’re not looking for stalker who escalates to murder.”

“It’s more random. He’s picking his victims,” Mac said, “because they fit something for him. But it’s not—it’s not about me. Robin and Georgie being related to me — it’s just incidental.”

“We’ll focus on the hospital and finding anyone who might have had access to the campus. It’ll be faster.” Robert got to his feet. “And I think maybe we need to talk about women not traveling alone or in pairs—”

“The mayor will never go for that,” Mac said with a quick shake of his head. “We need to narrow his profile — let’s start looking at our victims and seeing what links them.”

Quartermaine Estate: Pool House

Dillon sorted through the clothes in his suitcase, looking for a clean shirt. He considered actually unpacking since he’d decided to stay home through Christmas, but —

He turned at the knock at the door, and headed down the hallway to let in Lulu and Spinelli. “Hey. What are you guys doing here?”

“Bored.” Lulu flopped on his sofa. “Thought you’d entertain me.”

“The Jackal would like to inquire about Conflicted Film Major’s film collection.” Spinelli dug into his satchel, took out a thick book. “Specifically adaptations of this.”

“Moby Dick—” Dillon frowned. “I don’t know if I have anything—” He went over to the DVD cabinet, started to flick through it. “There’s the 1956 version. It’s not  that faithful, but you’re welcome to try it—”

“Why do you have that? Do you really have all the movies?” Lulu went to the cabinet. “What’s the most obscure movie you own?”

Dillon shrugged, handed the DVD to Spinelli. “I hope it helps.”

“Anything’s better than the book,” he muttered. “But Stone Cold insists that the Jackal obtain his degree, and not even the Fair Elizabeth will take up my case.”

“It’s kind of cute really,” Lulu said as she thumbed through the variety of DVDs and VHS tapes. “He’s like your dad. Like if Jason and Elizabeth had you as a teenagers or something. Or maybe it’s more like brothers. Yeah, like Jason’s your older brother who got stuck with raising you when your parents died—”

“When you’re done writing Spinelli’s life story, we can pick something to watch it.” Dillon offered. He looked at Spinelli. “It’s cool, though, that they care. Better than having no one at all.”

“This is true,” Spinelli acknowledged, even though he looked a bit wistful. Maybe he wished he really was Jason’s kid brother or something. “Thank you for the loan. The Jackal will take excellent care and return it in impeccable condition.”

Morgan Penthouse: Guest Room

Elizabeth made a face, then shook her head. “No, I think the glare of the computer screen will be too much if we put the desk there—”

Jason sighed, then let the corner of the desk drop to the carpeted floor. “Okay. So where do you want it?”

“Over by this wall—”

Right where she’d wanted it ten minutes ago, but Jason said nothing as he lifted it again. She pushed from her side, and they finally had the last piece of furniture set up. Elizabeth scrutinized the room, then went to straight out of the duvet cover on the new double bed. “You said your tech guy would be over to set up the workstation?”

“Yeah. He said it was top of the line—” Jason folded his arms. “Was there anything else you wanted to do?”

“No. I already put his clothes in the dresser and the closet. He can add on if he wants, but I think this is better.” Elizabeth scanned the room, then went to fuss with the gray curtains. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“I think he’ll miss complaining about the pink room.”

She smiled, then looked at him over her shoulder. “Why’d you put him in that room anyway?”

“Because it’s where I put people who annoy me,” Jason muttered, then winced. “Not you.”

“I should hope not.” Elizabeth fussed with the curtains again. “It was the only other bed in the penthouse then, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” He came up behind her, drew her back against him, sliding his arms around her waist. “And it was closer than my bedroom that night, so—” He kissed her neck and she shivered.

“Don’t start that,” Elizabeth said, sliding away from him. “You have that guy coming over for the computer, and then we have to pick up the boys from Monica before Spinelli gets home.”

Jason made a face, but followed her out of the room, closing the door firmly in case Spinelli came home early. It had been Elizabeth’s idea to redesign the last guest room for the kid, but he was oddly looking forward to the reveal. Spinelli had been an annoying thorn in his side since the beginning, but at some point, he’d started to enjoy the hacker’s presence. And it went without saying that he’d been invaluable over the last two weeks, spending extra time with the boys.

No, a room that was just Spinelli’s was the least he deserved.

General Hospital: Staff Room

“What do you mean, no?”

Robin made a face, and closed her locker to reveal Patrick’s bewildered face. “You know that word. You’ve heard it before—”

“Don’t get smart with me,” he muttered. “Why won’t you move in? Did I do something wrong? I said something wrong.” Patrick went to his locker, pulled out a book with a pregnant woman on the cover. “The book said that I had to be careful—”

She scowled. “How many of those do you have?” She snatched it away from him.

“As many as I could find in the bookstore,” Patrick said, tugging it back. “And it says that mood swings and irritability are common. Plus, you’re more sensitive, so I have to be careful what I say—which I think I’m going to mess up—” He skimmed the page again, looking so frazzled that some of her frustration eased.

Some, not all.

“Patrick, we weren’t living together before I got pregnant. Why do you think we’d start now?”

“Because—” He frowned, looked back up. “Because. You’re going to need me. There’s cravings in the middle of the night. And cramps. And you’ll want a back massage—”

“Okay. I’m two months pregnant, not eight.” She took the book again, closed it, set it on the bench behind her. “I appreciate that you’re going all in. I really do. But Patrick—” She paused. “That doesn’t mean we’re…back together.”

“It—” He closed his mouth. “But we broke up because you wanted to have kids. Now we’re having a kid. Why—”

“We broke up because we wanted a different future. Yes, now I’m pregnant. Yes, now we’re having a child. But you didn’t ask for this—”

“But—”

“And you’re trying really hard and I appreciate that. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to—” Robin bit her lip. “You might not want to be a full-time father, you know? You said you didn’t want kids, and right now, you’re trying. But if you change your mind, where does that leave me, you know?”

Patrick swallowed hard. “But—”

“I’m not doing this to hurt you,” Robin said gently. “I’m not. It’s just—it’s been a lot these last few months. We broke up, and then Georgie and Emily and Leyla, and now this—when and if I move in Patrick, it’s not because I’m pregnant. Okay? It’ll will us planning a future together.”

“But I want that now—”

“And I’m not sure I trust it.” She folded her arms, looked away. “You said it before, but it turned out our ideas of futures were different. What if I want more kids? You didn’t even want one—”

“But it’s different now—”

“Because it’s new. Because of that night, and that I could have been with Emily—” She shook her head. “I just—I don’t see the harm in letting things settle, okay? And you don’t have to worry. I live with an OB. Kelly will take care of anything I need.” She checked her watch. “I have rounds. I’ll come up later. We have that meeting with David Hawthorne later to talk about his treatment.”

“Yeah, okay.” He exhaled slowly. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later.” He put the book back in his locker, closed it, and left.

Robin bit her lip, unsure if she’d handled that well, but then followed him. Nothing she could do about it now.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Spinelli was reading the back of the DVD when he came home that night — and didn’t realize that the living room was full until he heard Cameron squeal his name. His head popped up and he blinked at seeing Jason and Elizabeth and both of the boys by the sofa, like they’d been—

Well, like they’d been waiting for him.

“Uh, hello. The Jackal is happy to see all the Stone Colds in one spot.” He put the DVD in his bag. “Did I miss a party or something?”

“We gots to show you something, Snelli. Mommy said I could.” Cameron bounced up and down. “Can we show you?”

“Show—” Spinelli furrowed his brow. “Okay, Little Dude.” He held out his hand, expecting to be dragged over to the toy bin, but instead Cameron raced towards the steps and Spinelli had to jog to keep up.

They head to the second floor, Spinelli aware of Jason and Elizabeth following behind. Instead of stopping at the first bedroom — Spinelli’s room — Cameron kept going until they reached the last empty room in the penthouse.

“Here.” Cameron released his hand, grinned broadly. “I showed you.”

“Little Dude has shown me a most bodacious door,” Spinelli said, frowning. He looked at Jason. “Stone Cold?”

“You might want to open it.” Jason adjusted Jake in his arms, shifting him to the other side.

“All right—” Spinelli pushed it open, then just stared. The room had a thick cream-colored carpet, that wasn’t new. But the double bed with red and gray blankets and pillows, the dresser—and a huge L-shaped desk with—

Spinelli walked towards the computer, his eyes wide. Then he looked around again, taking in the smaller details. There was a cluster of photographs he’d had hidden in a shoebox in his room. He and his grandmother. A trio shot of him, Chelsea, and Georgie, and an empty frame— He frowned, went to pick it up.

“We were hoping you might want to put this one in there—” He turned, and Elizabeth held out a photo.

It had been taken on Halloween, the last photo of the night. Spinelli on the sofa with the boys, holding Jake in his lap. Jason sitting on his other side, an arm slung casually over the back of the sofa. Spinelli’s eyes burned, and he looked at Jason. “You made me a room.”

“Well, you’ve been here almost a year,” Jason said, a bit uncomfortably. “Elizabeth thought—and so did I—that you should have a room that’s yours.”

“You made such a great room for the boys.” Elizabeth took his arm, kissed his cheek. “And you’ve made them feel at home. Me, too. You can change anything you want. I wasn’t sure of your favorite colors, but Lu thought maybe this would be okay.”

“The Blonde One?” Spinelli frowned. “Is that why she invited the Jackal to leave today?”

“She was a big help. Do you like it?”

“Yes.” Spinelli took a deep breath and put the new photo in the final empty frame, setting it by the others. “The Jackal is overwhelmed.” It was like having a real home again. And maybe really was home now. He looked at Jason. “The generosity of the Stone Colds has rendered the Jackal speechless.”

“Wasn’t sure that possible,” Jason said, but his eyes were smiling. Spinelli knew how to look for that. “We’ll leave you to look around. Pizza’s coming.”

“And orange soda,” Cameron said, tugging Spinelli’s arm. “And we gots the corn chips you like.”

“Thank you.” Spinelli ruffled Cameron’s curls and was rewarded with a beaming smile. “The Jackal is very grateful.”

They cleared the room and Spinelli just looked around, ran his hands over the high-end computer work station — oh the magic, he’d be able to do. Then looked at the photos again, at Georgie and Chelsea. He picked up the frame, smiling sadly, but then looked at the new photo. At his family.

+31

Written in 65 minutes.

General Hospital: Hallway

“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming back today.”

Elizabeth finished the notation on the patient’s chart, then slid it into the slot on the door before answering Patrick. “Dr. Ford didn’t really leave me much choice.”

She headed back to the nurse’s station and Patrick fell into step beside her. “He didn’t consider Emily to be a member of my immediate family.”

“He’s an ass,” Patrick muttered, leaning against the counter.

“Yeah, well—” Elizabeth sighed, reached for a new chart. “I couldn’t go through the parking garage. One of Jason’s guards had to drop me off like a kid at school.” She exhaled slowly. “I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to come back today. To work—” She shook her head. “After we came to identify—anyway. It’s probably a good thing,” she admitted, flicking the end of her pen to fix the ink supply. “Jason and I were just walking around looking like ghosts. We both needed a distraction.”

“How’s Cam taking it?”

Elizabeth bit her lip, stared hard at the insurance form. “We told him the day of the services, and he cried. But then he asked her the next day. And again yesterday — and this morning—it’s like he knows there’s something important about her but he can’t wrap his head around the answer.” She paused. “I can’t blame him. I’m an adult, and I can’t handle it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s hard to explain it over and over to him, and know it won’t be the last time. But there’s also the other side — he’s asking because he loves and misses her. He remembers her right now. There’s going to be day when she’s nothing more than a face in the photographs. And Jake won’t know her at all.” She closed her eyes. “It kills me. She loved them so much — she was Cam’s aunt before Jason and I were even talking again, and now she never gets—”

She sighed. “But that’s enough about me. I’m glad I ran into you. Did Robin tell you we talked at the church?”

“Ah, yeah.” Patrick rubbed the back of his neck. “So you, uh, know.”

“I do.” She folded her arms leaned over the counter towards him. “And how are we feeling? And remember — judgment-free zone.”

He gestured over to the waiting area. “Can we—” She followed him over and sat next to him on the sofa. “Truthfully, I don’t know how anyone lets a pregnant woman out of their sight. You think I could get my office moved downstairs in the cubicle next to her?”

“Patrick.”

“You think I’m kidding,” he muttered. “Okay, so I think it wouldn’t surprise you to know that I was already…” He frowned. “Revising my stance on the idea of having kids. Or at least open to it.”

“No, this does not surprise me.  You were collecting information.”

He eyed her, as if waiting for the joke, but when she said nothing further, he nodded. “Yes. And Robin told me that the only reason she didn’t go out with Emily that night is because she stayed back to run the test.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s a hell of a thing. She’s only alive because she’s pregnant. Which doesn’t help the nightmares because now I’m thinking what if she’d gone anyway, and then that’s how I find out? That’s how I find out I could have been a father, but now I can’t because I—”

“Hey.” Elizabeth put a hand on his forearm. “But that’s not how you found out. Robin stayed behind. She’s here.”

“I don’t know if that messed with how I would have handled the news,” Patrick continued. “Maybe I would have been upset or mad or disappointed, I don’t know. But instead I just—I was so damned grateful that I forgot to be scared for a minute. But then it kicked in, and now I’m just—what if I’m bad at it?”

“Are you really worried you’ll be a bad father?” Elizabeth asked gently. “Robin told me you already had a plan to practice—”

“Yeah, but—” Patrick took a deep breath. “What if I don’t love them the way I’m supposed to? What if the baby starts to kick, and I don’t feel the connection? Or I hold the baby for the first time, and I don’t feel anything?”

“What if the sky turns orange? Patrick. All you can do is your best. That’s it. You love Robin, and she loves you. You start there, and you see where it takes you.” Elizabeth tipped her head. “Are you really worried you won’t love your child?”

“I—I don’t know. I just—people talk about it. And they talk about how much they love their kid — and I don’t know. I’ve never felt love at first sight. I don’t even believe in it—”

“I don’t know. I never—I mean, I carried my boys. It’s hard to say. I—you could talk to Mac about this. Or Jason—”

“I couldn’t. I don’t want Robin to worry.” Patrick looked at Elizabeth. “She wants this so much, and I love her, and she’s still breathing, so I’m going to do everything the way I’m supposed to, and I’ll just—I guess, I’ll have to trust it’ll work out.”

“I believe in you, but you can always come to me with your doubts.” She kissed his cheek. “Now I better get back to work.”

Spencer House: Porch

Lucky was already grimacing as he swung the door open. “What do you want?” he demanded.  He put up a hand. “And don’t even bother. You’re not coming in.”

Sam scowled and folded her arms. “I just wanted to offer my condolences. I know how close you and Emily were—”

“Uh huh. Try another one,” Lucky offered. He leaned against the door jamb. “It’s been six days since she died. You took your time.”

“Well, I didn’t really know how to say anything. You were mad at me the last time we talked—”

“The last time we talked you called me a son of a bitch and trashed my desk. So let’s try this again. Why are you here?”

Sam pressed her lips together, then nodded. “All right, I was coming to ask if you pulled those tapes?” At his mystified look, she continued, “From Kelly’s. On Halloween—”

“You mean, the bullshit report you tried to make so I’d arrest Jason in front of the kids. No, I didn’t. You didn’t make a statement. You’re really here to ask me about your case?” Lucky snorted. “You’re a goddamn lunatic, do you know that? Get a life and stay away from me.” He slammed the door in her face.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“Hey, man.” Sonny hugged Jason lightly then stepped back. “How are you holding up?”

“Uh, okay, I guess.” Jason leaned down to grab the remote that had somehow ended up in Jake’s hand as he giggled, his bouncy seat squeaking as the six-month-old moved up and down. “The kids are distracting.”

“Yeah, I can see that—” Sonny grinned as Jason abandoned Jake and grabbed Cameron just as he was about to catapault off the bottom step.

“What did we talk about?” he asked Cam. The toddler blinked at him with some surprise.

“No jump from high places. Mommy says I human boy,” Cameron told Sonny. “Not Spiderman. So not high.” He gestured to the bottom step. “See? I bigger.”

“Kid should be a lawyer,” Sonny said. “Loopholes.”

“Last thing I need is to teach him to argue better,” Jason said. “He’s too good at it already.” He looked Cameron again who just grinned. “Okay, so you’re right. How about no jumping from the stairs at all?”

Cameron sighed. “Never ever?”

“No.”

“But what if it’s fun?”

“No.”

Cameron looked at Sonny again, almost beleaguered. “Daddy follows rules. Very annoying.” Turning his attention back to Jason, he nodded. “Okay. No steps.”

“Okay.” Jason set him back on his feet, and Cameron headed over to bedevil his brother in the bouncy seat.

“Daddy?” Sonny said. “That’s new.”

“Yeah, he’s getting—” Jason couldn’t stop looking at the boys, fighting the urge to smile as Cameron dangled a stuffed animal just close enough for Jake to touch only to drag it away at the last minute. “He’s getting more comfortable with it.”

“That’s good.”

“Uh, Elizabeth and I were talking.” Jason leaned against the desk. “About getting back into a normal routine. I’m ready to come back to the warehouse and, you know, uh, work.”

Sonny nodded. “Okay. Well, you know, a lot of the warehouse stuff — that can be done from home if you want to keep doing that. Bernie can get you all set up.” He folded his arms. “And I’ll get you back on the shipments. But it’s still pretty quiet. Let’s enjoy it while we can.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

“All right, so I’ve completed interviews with Leyla Mir’s family—” Robert sat across from his brother’s desk. “And I’ve looked over her phone records. At this point, I don’t see any evidence that she was getting any kind of attention like Georgie was. No hangups, no flowers. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“You think Spencer was right? That it was collecting information?”

“Maybe. Could be the guy was experimenting with his first…” Robert winced. “Well, it could be that he was refining his, uh, methods. We won’t know for sure unless there’s another victim.”

“I—”

“Not hoping for it, just stating a fact. Spencer said he’d follow up with Elizabeth about Emily. Did he do that yet?”

“No, he said he was going to try do it today. Robin said she didn’t get anything like that, so if she was a target — it’s not the same way.” Mac sighed. “So we have nothing except the possibility that he had access to the campus and the hospital.”

“Still waiting on that DNA match to come back. I’m sorry, Mac—”

“You can’t make evidence appear where it doesn’t already exist.” Mac dragged his hands down his face. “Praying for a miracle. Just where we were a week ago. Two more victims, and nothing to show for it. How the hell can this happen, Robert?”

“I wish I knew. We won’t give up, Mac. You have my word on that.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“Fair Elizabeth,” Spinelli said. “The Jackal beseeches you to intervene with Stone Cold.” He  folded his legs on the chair, reached for his orange soda from the coffee table. “The Jackal does not need an extended educational experience—”

Elizabeth smiled, then gently bounced Jake in her lap. “Jason wants you to have options, Spinelli. And college is good for you. I wish I had stuck with it. I ended up in the nursing program at GH, so I never finished.” She sighed. “Not that I could have done anything with an art degree, but it would have been nice.”

“But—”

“You’re halfway through after this year, Spinelli. Why not just finish so you don’t have regrets later? Is this English that bad?”

“No, but Moby Dick is,” Spinelli muttered. “The Jackal does not enjoy reading.” He held up the giant book. “Have you?”

“I think it was assigned when I was—” She stopped. “I think it was assigned in my high school English class. Junior year. Mr. Murty. I don’t think I actually read it, but there were some Spark Notes online—” The phone on the desk rang, and she went over to answer it, propping Jake on her  hip.

“Hello?”

“It’s Wally on the front desk, Miss Webber. Uh, Detective Spencer says he has some questions about, um, Miss Quartermaine. For you and Jason.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Okay, um, send him up.” She hung up the phone, looked at Spinelli. “Can you take Jake and go upstairs to tell Jason that Lucky is on his way up with questions about Emily’s case? And, um, maybe you could keep Cam upstairs until he’s gone?”

“The Jackal is happy to be of assistance in keeping Little Dude safe and secure. Come forth, Stone Cold the Sequel—” Spinelli retrieved Jake and they headed upstairs.

A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. Elizabeth glanced upstairs, then went to open it. “Lucky.”

He remained outside. “Hey. Um, I know—I know I can’t come in because—I mean we don’t—”

“It’s fine. The boys are upstairs. Spinelli just went to get Jason.” Elizabeth stepped aside to let Lucky in. “They’ll just stay upstairs. You wouldn’t have come over if it wasn’t important. Did—did you find him?”

“I wish,” Lucky murmured. He glanced around the penthouse, taking in the evidence of the boys. The playpen, the bouncy seat, a scattering of toys—he faced Elizabeth. “No. I just had a few questions about what was going on with Emily. Trying—” he stopped as Jason jogged down the stairs.

“Lucky said he had a few questions,” Elizabeth told him, and she bit her lip. “I mean, we could call Diane if you want to—”

“Do you think we need to?” Jason asked Lucky.

“No. No. I don’t know. I mean, you can—but it’s just background.” Lucky cleared his throat. “Um, I didn’t get to—I didn’t get to tell you how sorry I am,” he said to Jason. “About—Emily. I know how close—” He shook his head. “This sucks so much,” he muttered. He dragged a hand down his cheek. “Okay. We’re following a theory that one or both of the victims in each attack was being targeted. You know about what happened with Georgie. The flowers, the calls.”

“Yeah,” Jason said with a short nod.

“Did Emily have any complaints along those lines? Strange phone calls, being followed?” Lucky wanted to know. “Any chance that she was experiencing something similar?”

“No. No. And she would have said something. I told her about Spinelli, about going to the police. She came over that day while you and Spinelli were downtown,” she reminded Jason. To Lucky, she continued, “She knew that it was part of Georgie’s case. She never said anything to me.”

“Or me, but she wouldn’t have,” Jason admitted. “She usually waited until the last minute to bring me in on those kinds of things.”

Because Lucky remembered all too well the times Emily had kept Jason in the dark, he nodded. “I figured, but it had to be asked.”

“I don’t know what’s worse. Thinking that they were targeted or that it was random.” Elizabeth rubbed her shoulder absently, and her ring must have caught the light because she saw Lucky’s eyes drop to it, then he looked away. “I’m sorry. I wish we knew more—”

“No, it’s okay. Uh, it was a long shot. And we needed to rule it out. I can do that now. Emily would have said something to one of us, I think. Or Nikolas. And she didn’t.” He cleared his throat. “So, uh, thanks. If you think of anything—”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Elizabeth opened the door, and he left. She looked at Jason. “Well, that was awkward.” She twisted her ring. “But I’m glad, I guess. That we could—I don’t know. That we could help. Even a little.”

“Yeah.” Jason drew her into his arms, and she held on tight. “How was work?” he asked her.

“Hard. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel good about using the parking garage again. And it was strange being on shift when she wasn’t.” Elizabeth sighed, then stepped away. “But I ran into Patrick, and we had a really good talk. I didn’t—did Robin get a chance to talk to you at the church?”

“No, is she okay?” Jason took Elizabeth’s hand, led her over to the sofa. “I knew they broke up—”

“I guess not all the way. She’s pregnant. She found out that night,” she added when Jason’s eyes opened wider. “That’s why she was still at the hospital. She was supposed to be with Emily. In that parking garage. But she thought she was pregnant, so she stayed back to run the test.”

“Oh, man.” Jason raked a hand through his hair. “But pregnant — that’s good, right?”

“For her, yes. Patrick is nervous. He wasn’t sure about having kids. He’s scared he won’t love them the way he’s supposed to. I think being scared is probably a good sign that he already does, but he’s not ready to listen to that yet.” She tipped her head. “Maybe you could talk to him. I mean, you fell in love with Michael when he wasn’t even yours. And you know, you held Jake when he was born.”

“You want me to talk to Patrick?” Jason asked skeptically.

“I can see that’s not happening.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I just—I don’t know. I carried Jake, so I don’t know if it’s different for mothers. What was it like to hold him?”

Jason considered the question, and she worried it wasn’t a fair one. After all, he’d held him that day thinking he’d never claim him. “Strange,” Jason said finally and she frowned. “Not bad. Just—you know, I’d watched him grow — I remember when you weren’t showing, and I saw you all the time, and I felt him kick—” He stared at his hands. “But then he was there. And I was holding him. He was part of me. And you. We made him together. And I don’t know if that’s why I loved him so much. I wanted him from the beginning. Even when he was just an idea. But to feel the weight of him—” Jason exhaled slowly. “It’s not something I can put into words. One minute, he was still with you, and then he was in my arms. He was real. And I knew I’d never love anything or anyone the same way again.”

“I’m glad you got to have that moment.” She reached forward, her thumb brushing a tear that had slid down his cheek. “For all the time you lost, you got that moment. I won’t apologize, I know it irritates you. But I’m glad we got to have a few minutes in the hospital. Just the three of us.”

“Me, too.” He kissed her lightly. “If you want me to try to talk to Patrick, I will,” he said, though it was pained.

“It’s fine. We’ll let it go for now. I’m happy for her. For him, too. He’s got so much love inside of him, I think it scares him. It’s going to be really fun to watch him learn how to be a dad.” She squeezed his arm. “Now, we should probably go get the boys before Cameron convinces Spinelli to help him climb something.”

+27