Category Archives: Flash Fiction

July 15, 2020

This entry is part 11 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos.

“Why can’t I be in the room?” Elizabeth demanded. She put her hands on her hips and glared at Chase. Now that she knew she hadn’t murdered Franco, that someone was setting her up, there was no way in hell she was going to let the PCPD push her around.

And she was absolutely going to be in the room when Chase questioned Cameron.

Chase sent Diane a pained look. “Ms. Miller, I agreed not to take Cameron down the station without talking to him first, but—”

“But what?” Elizabeth said, cutting off Diane’s answer earning her an irritated glare from her lawyer. “I am his mother. He is sixteen years old—”

“For the purposes of this warrent, Ms. Webber,” Chase said, “he’s an adult—”

“Mom,” Cameron murmured. He touched her elbow. “I’m okay. Diane’s here—”

“Diane doesn’t work for you,” Elizabeth told her. She turned her back on both Diane and Chase, her tone slightly pleading. “She works for Jason. Not us—”

“Gee, thanks—”

“I appreciate you coming down in the middle of the night, Diane, and taking care of things,” Elizabeth said flatly. “But I’m not paying for your legal services, am I? You’re here on retainer from Jason and Sonny. And their family.”

At those words, Diane’s mouth tightened as she took the hit. Diane might want to let bygones be bygones, but Elizabeth would never forget the way she’d been treated after her lie about Jake Doe had been revealed.

Diane had taken sides.

“Ms. Webber—”

Jason pushed open the door, relief crossing his expression when he saw them still there—then he sensed the tension in the room. “What’s wrong?”

“Elizabeth isn’t convinced I am working for her and her family,” Diane told him. “And she isn’t willing to let Cameron be questioned here, outside of an interrogation room—” This she said to Elizabeth slowly as if she was an idiot, “—without her present—”

“She’s his mother.” Jason squinted at Chase. “And if you’re here to arrest Cameron, then you must not consider Elizabeth a suspect. So why can’t she stay?”

Chase hesitated, then grimaced.

Surprised by Jason’s defense and that he wasn’t angry that she was questioning Diane’s loyalty, Elizabeth turned to the cop. “Did you get an arrest warrant for my son to force him into questioning?” she demanded in almost a hissed tone. “Because you know you can’t force him—”

“An arrest warrant is much easier and faster than a material witness order,” Diane said with nod. “That’s a very good question, Elizabeth. Detective Chase, maybe you can illuminate us on the evidence.” She reached out her hand. “I’d like to examine that warrant.”

Chase shoved it at her. “It wasn’t my idea, okay?” he said, his irritation on full display. “I wanted to reach out, but my commissioner and the DA—”

“The DA who railroaded Carly into Ferncliffe with the testimony of a known liar?” Elizabeth demanded. “She sent you here?”

“I’m just doing my job,” Chase said, exasperated. “And you already confessed,” he said to Elizabeth. “So let your kid tell his side, and this can be over—”

Diane pursed her lips. “I’ll have this arrest warrant squashed in five minutes in front of a judge. So you know what? You go back to the PCPD and tell them Cameron will surrender himself at three. He’s not a flight risk—”

“Oh, no? Then where was he last night and why didn’t his mother—his only biological relative—not know where he was?” Chase shot back.

“You never asked me where Cameron was,” Jason said quietly. All of them turned to look at him. “I didn’t know where Jake was. I didn’t know he was with his brothers. But I knew where Cameron was.”

“You—” Chase swallowed as Elizabeth and Cameron both stared at him in confusion. “What? When? And what do you mean I never asked—I made it clear—” He stopped. “You know what? No. I’m not doing this.” He turned to Cameron. “If you don’t answer questions now, kid, I’m taking you to the PCPD—”

“Not on this evidence you won’t,” Diane snarled. She yanked out her cell phone and started to dial. “I’ll have an injunction ordered before you can even get down to the car.” She pressed it to her ear. “Using coercion on an innocent teenage child to testify against his mother—oh, the press is going to love this. I’ll be on the phone with the Sun after this—”

“Fine. I’ll tell the station you’ll surrender at three,” Chase said to Cameron, obviously over the entire situation and not entirely sure he’d be able to put Cameron in cuffs without injury. “This wasn’t my choice,” he repeated as he stood in the doorway.

“No, but you sure as hell didn’t say no.” Elizabeth stalked over to the door and slammed the door shut—almost shoving the cop out. She dragged her hands through her hair and looked at Cameron. “If Diane can’t get an injunction filed, you don’t say a word. They’ll twist whatever you say—”

“Oh, so now I’m trust worthy?” Diane said with a roll of her eyes. She held up a finger and walked out of the room. “Judge Worth! Have I got a bone to pick with you—”

She disappeared down the hall while Elizabeth took a deep breath, looked at Jason. “Jake and Aiden are with Laura. I didn’t think you’d mind, but if you want Jake to stay here—”

“No, that’s fine—” Jason looked at Cameron. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Um, yeah.” Cameron sat on the couch. “Mom, I think Diane is okay—”

“If this is about what we talked about—Diane doesn’t work for anyone except me and Sonny,” Jason told Elizabeth. “So it’s not Diane you don’t trust. It’s us.”

“Mom?” Cameron frowned. “I thought—I thought you said we could trust Jason. What happened? What’s going on?”

When Elizabeth bit her lip and might not have said anything, Jason took the decision from her. “Your mom trusted me before we realized the most likely suspect is Sam. And she thinks I’ll throw you to the wolves to protect her.”

“Mom?” Cameron looked at his mother. “What’s going on?”

“It’s not that simple,” she said softly. “I just—I think we’d be better off if I got a lawyer that worked for us. I appreciate everything you’ve done, Jason—”

“No.” Cameron swallowed hard. “No, this isn’t fair, Mom—”

“Your mom has her reasons not to trust me where Sam is concerned,” Jason said quietly. He looked at Elizabeth. “And I can’t fix that in the next hour. Just—let Diane get the warrant squashed, and we’ll figure the rest of it out then. Okay?”

Feeling like the villain and not happy about it, Elizabeth threw up her hands. “Fine. It’s only my life and kids, so why not ignore me completely?” She stalked away, and a moment later, Jake’s bedroom door slammed shut.

Cameron looked at Jason, suddenly more guarded than before. “Why doesn’t my mom trust you now? What did you do to her?”

July 13, 2020

This entry is part 11 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: An Everlasting Love

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos or rereads.

It was another two days before Jason could put together a plan that would not only see Ric Lansing arrested and convicted of theft, but that might have a chance of protecting Elizabeth and her ranch from anything the jackass might try as revenge.

He should have realized that Elizabeth would be making her own plans — that she hadn’t asked him for help, only advice. He should have remembered that it had been a long time she’d looked to him to solve her problems.

The first warning that matters might not proceed according to his carefully constructed plan came when Patrick Drake rode into town and stopped at the local hotel to check in for a few days.

He’d known Patrick and his family since childhood, but Drake hadn’t wanted to stay in Diamond Springs. He’d gone to one of the new schools that opened in San Francisco and taken up the study of medicine. Last Jason had heard he’d stayed in the city and married. He frowned when he saw the long-legged doctor hitch a horse outside of the hotel.

“Patrick Drake?”

Patrick turned at Jason’s call and grinned. “Look at you. Jason Morgan, sheriff!” He held out a hand and Jason shook it. “Never thought you’d come back to Diamond Springs. Thought you were smart like me and got out while you could.”

“My grandfather passed away,” Jason explained. “My grandmother doesn’t have anyone other than Dillon.”

Remembering Dillon as a youth, Patrick nodded. Nothing more was needed. He squinted, looking around the dusty main street. “Amazing how much worse this place is. I can’t wait to get home.”

“What brings you back?”

Patrick hesitated, tipped his hat back on his hat—not the wide-brimmed hats the other men in town wore, but a fashionable one that looked out of place. “I probably shouldn’t say, but a friend is looking to sell some horses. She raises good stock, and I have some friends in the area still looking to get into breeding.” He shrugged. “I said I’d help.”

“She,” Jason repeated, his mouth sour. “Elizabeth.”

“Uh, yeah, but if you wouldn’t mind keeping that to yourself—I’m not supposed to tell anyone. I’m pretty sure she means Lansing and his ilk, but—” He jerked an elegant shoulder. “Lizzie and I have been writing since I went away to school, and she came to the wedding. Truth be told, I’m glad she’s finally leaving this place. Robin can’t wait to help her get set up—”

Jason cleared his throat. “When is—when is she planning to go?”

“Well, that’s why I’m here. Elizabeth is planning to go to San Francisco on the first train tomorrow,” Patrick told him. He furrowed his brow. “I’d heard you married some years ago. What’s the interest in Lizzie and her ranch? You had your chance—”

“It’s complicated,” Jason said shortly. “Excuse me.”

He returned to the jail, grabbed the reins of his horse, and swung himself up on the back.

—

Elizabeth grimaced and looked apologetically at her housekeeper. “I’m so sorry, Gail. I know this is quite short notice. I just—” She folded her hands, looked around her parlor and sighed again. “Patrick Drake is staying for a few days to take care of transporting my things—”

“I just don’t understand the rush,” Gail muttered as she set a tea tray down in front of Elizabeth. “Or the selling of the horses—” She stared at Elizabeth. “If your grandmother were here, she’d have the truth of it from you—”

“She’s not here,” Elizabeth said softly. “And I must make the best choices I can from the options given to me.”

She heard the thunder of a horse as it galloped up the drive. She frowned, got to her feet as she crossed to the window and drew back a curtain. Surely Ric couldn’t have learned about her plans—

But no, it was Jason in her front yard, his brow furrowed and his jaw set. Elizabeth took a deep breath. She was sure he felt sorry—even guilty—for what was happening, but once she explained it to him, surely, he’d understand that this was the best way to prevent Ric from doing more damage.

She met him on the front porch, holding up her hand. “Please. Cameron is napping.” She lifted her chin. “How did you find out?”

“I saw Patrick in town,” Jason said. He stared at her for a long moment. “You’re leaving.”

“Yes. I—I have little choice. There’s no point in fighting him, Jason. His forgeries will stand up in a court. Cameron and I—” Her voice trembled with the memory. “He fought Ric with everything he had. By the end, he knew what had happened to his sons, and he was determined to prevent Ric from stealing little Cameron’s future as well. But he couldn’t—we lost the house in town, and everything in it.”

“I can help—”

“I’m sure you think you’ve got an idea,” Elizabeth said softly. “But you are not the first. Cameron thought he could help me. After Alexander and Peter died, he offered for me. He thought if I were married, Ric would lose interest, and I—” She looked away. “I wasn’t ready to leave yet. My grandparents loved this ranch. I wanted to save it, their dream, for myself—for my children.”

She stepped past him to look over the land. “But I couldn’t. And it’s time to stop pretending that anyone can stop Ric.”

“I can—”

Elizabeth turned back to him. “I’ve never asked you about your wife,” she realized. “She didn’t come with you,” she continued as Jason frowned. “And I just—I suppose I didn’t allow myself to think of it—” She’d put away that terrible conversation with Lila and dragged it out now only to remind herself that Jason’s concern was platonic.

That he wanted to rescue her because of his hatred of Ric Lansing.

“I’m not—I never—my grandmother lied to you,” Jason said shortly. Elizabeth’s mouth dropped slightly as he continued. “He forged her mortgage papers, too. Elizabeth—she lied to you because Ric blackmailed her. And I can stop him.”

“No one can.” Elizabeth’s hands trembled as she turned away from, starting towards the door.

“I know you don’t have a reason to trust me, but I’ll stop him—”

She turned back to him. “No! You can’t—” Elizabeth shook her head, panicked now. “No! Just—just let it go, Jason. He’s already tried to hurt you through your family—he’ll take away everything you ever loved if you don’t stop—”

“He already did.”

July 11, 2020

This entry is part 6 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos or rereads.

Elizabeth made a face when her pen rolled off the desk at the nurse’s station. She ducked down to grab it—and then because it was a Monday, and this was her life—it rolled underneath a table.

“Damn it—”

It took her nearly two minutes to drag the stupid thing out, but if she’d left it on the floor, she’d end up tripping on it.

Because it was a Monday.

She finally straightened up—and Brad Cooper, standing just on the other side of the nurse’s station jumped nearly a full foot in the air, his eyes bulging out of his face. “Where the hell did you come from?” he demanded, clasping his charts to his chest.

Elizabeth frowned at him, looked around her as if to check to see if Helena Cassadine or someone terrifying had popped up — but no, he was talking to her.

“Uh, I dropped my pen. Where did you come from?” she asked pointedly. Strange little man.

“I have test results to drop off.” Brad dropped them in the basket, then walked very quickly towards the elevators, looking at her again as he jabbed the button.

“Scaring the lab techs again?” Patrick asked as he came up behind her. They both watched Brad jabbed the button two more times in quick sucession before giving Elizabeth another look, then stepping on to the elevator.

“No, that’s your job,” she said. “I think I just scared him, and he’s jumpy as it is.”

“I try not to talk to the people who work in the lower levels,” Patrick murmured. “It gives them ideas.”

She rolled her eyes, leaving the moment light as he knew he’d appreciate. Of course, Patrick had once been married to a woman who worked in those lower levels.

Robin had died only eight months earlier, in a ghastly explosion that had devastated them all. Patrick had really struggled in the first six months, but since they’d all nearly died in the water poison crisis, he seemed to be getting better.

“Hey, I was thinking about Halloween,” Patrick told her. “It’s in three weeks, but Emma’s got a party—”

“So does Cameron,” Elizabeth said. “He asked me to bake brownies. Do you want me to toss a batch Emma’s way?”

“It would save me from from running to the store in the middle of the night and ending up with candy corn.” He grimaced. “She still brings it up like it was some kind of terrible crime.”

“Candy corn is a war crime, and should be treated as such,” Elizabeth returned with a roll of her eyes. “Yeah, sure, I can double up the brownies. You still coming over for dinner tomorrow?”

“Yeah, thanks for the invite.” He hesitated. Lifted his brows. “Is Jason going to be there?”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him, but his expression remained bland and innocent. She didn’t believe it for a minute, but still answered him. “Yes. He’s going with us to Cameron’s pumpkin carving thing in the park, and Cam asked him to stay for dinner. Is that a problem?”

“It should be,” Patrick said darkly. “He’s the reason—”

“No.” Elizabeth touched his arm. “No. It was his medicine that Robin went back for, but he’s not the reason. You know that. She would have done it for any patient.”

He exhaled slowly, looked away. “I know that.” Patrick waited a moment. “I know that,” he repeated. “But it makes it easier to blame someone. If I can’t blame him, I’m stuck with Maxie, and she’s been through enough.”

“He never would have asked her to sacrifice her life for his, you know that.” Elizabeth sighed. “Look, it’s not—we’re not dating, so if—”

“You can say that, and he can say that, but we both know that’s not true—”

“We’re not—” She huffed. “But if we were—which we’re not—if it bothers you enough you and Emma won’t enjoy yourself, I can ask Jason to stay home tomorrow—”

“No.” Patrick picked up a chart. “No. You’re right. Robin would have gone back for anyone. It’s just Jason’s bad luck it was him.” He tipped his head. “A few years ago, you would have jumped at the chance to call this dating. What’s the deal?”

“The deal?” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Oh, you mean, the fact that his divorce was finalized a month ago? A divorce from Sam, the woman he forgave and married despite everything she did to me and the boys? Yeah. I can’t imagine why I don’t want to trust he’s really done with her.”

“People forgive the insane all the time, Elizabeth. Robin forgave me,” he told her simply. “And no one would ever say she wouldn’t have been right to drop me off the cliff.”

“Lisa Niles was a psycho—”

“Not when I—” Patrick pressed his lips together, irritated with himself. She knew he didn’t like remember the hurt he’d caused Robin by having a brief affair with the crazy doctor who’d tried to kill them both. Robin had been away, had been gone for a long time—but it didn’t make it right.

“Patrick—”

“I don’t like Jason, and you know you can do a lot better,” Patrick told her bluntly. “But—I also know he’s been around a lot, and you’ve been happier. I think—” He met her eyes. “I think we’ve both had a handful of bad years. We both know life is too short not to take chance when we can.”

“I liked you better when you hated Jason.”

“You only have yourself to blame,” Patrick called over his shoulder as he took his chart and walked away.

And then her pen rolled to the ground and Elizabeth threw up her hands.

Mondays.

——

The next afternoon, Patrick’s words continued to drift through her head as she and Jason walked towards the spot in the park where the third grade was having their fall picnic. She hadn’t really thought about it’d mean for Jason to be going with her to the picnic—to be attending as her friend when it was mostly families. Parents.

“You okay?” Jason asked. She glanced at him, then sighed as they crossed the gazebo and wound their way towards the lake. “You’ve been quiet since I picked you up.”

“Long day at work,” Elizabeth said finally. She smiled up at him. “One of the lab techs is easily spooked, and every time someone walks up behind him, he jumps in the air. He’s already done it to me twice this week. Today, he jumped, hit his head and I had to stitch him up.

“Weird.” He flashed a smile at him, then laced their fingers together as they turned a corner. “But it’s not boring.”

“Not it’s not that—” Elizabeth drew up short as they came across a cluster of benches and—just in front of them sat Sam McCall and John McBain, lost in a conversation.

Sam turned her head and saw them.

And Elizabeth didn’t want to look at Jason. Didn’t want to know what he was thinking.

“We’re going to be late,” Jason said after a moment when neither Sam nor John moved. He tugged on her hand and she finally looked at him. “Cameron’s waiting.”

“Right.” She smiled, then they walked away. But she knew why she couldn’t take Patrick’s advice.

She didn’t know how to believe in dreams anymore.

This entry is part 10 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Whatever It Takes

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos or rereads.

Jason slammed the door closed behind him and sprinted to where Sonny was lying, just behind the sofa. He rolled him over—and was relieved to see Sonny’s eyes open, just slits of brown as sweat dribbled down his face.

“Sonny—” He dragged out his phone, intending to call 911 — this was more than he could handle and their resident doctor was missing in action.

Sonny’s hand weakly caught at his shirt and Jason paused to look at his former boss and friend. “Leave—” He panted, then coughed. He rolled on his side, continued coughing. “Have—to—go. Get out. Not—safe.”

“Sonny—”

“Eliza…” Sonny’s eyes drifted shut. “Not…safe.” He passed out, but was still breathing. Jason finally dialed 911, praying he wasn’t too late to get his answers.

—

Patrick shook his head. “Elizabeth—”

“Listen to me, Patrick.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “Think back to what you just told me. You remember my daughter living for five hours. But her electronic records say she didn’t. The paper records don’t record her death. Another little girl died the same day. Who was it?”

Patrick stared down at the file in front of him, then sighed. “Do you remember Sam McCall?”

“Sam?” Elizabeth repeated. “Yeah. I—She…was one of Sonny’s mistresses—” She tipped her head. “I haven’t seen her in a while—”

“She moved after her daughter died.” Patrick swallowed. “Her daughter, born the same day Lily died.”

“But—her daughter was stillborn—”

“It must be a mix up.” Patrick closed the file, but Elizabeth took it from him before he could replace it in file. “Elizabeth—don’t—don’t do this. You know how paperwork can get mixed up. Nurse, doctors—we get busy. You have a photograph of your daughter. Steven took it. Do you think he’d lie to you—”

“He obviously did since he told me she was stillborn,” Elizabeth said. She closed her eyes. Oh, God, had her brother done this to her? “He was the one to tell me. He cried, too. He couldn’t—”

“He would never hurt you.” Patrick stared down at the file, then slowly nodded. “Let’s take this and Lily’s to my office. Somewhere safe where we can go over them and figure this out. If—if there’s a chance there was a switch—we need to figure this out—”

——

Just as they reached Patrick’s office, Elizabeth got a text on her phone—an alert from Jason telling her Sonny was being rushed to the hospital. She frowned at it, then called his line—but he didn’t answer.

“Patrick, I need to go down to the ER,” she told him. “Can—can you get started on looking at the files? Make copies. Scan them. Send them to me and to Justus.” She hesitated. “And Spinelli. He can be trusted. I don’t want anything to happen to them before we can look at them.”

“What’s wrong in the ER?”

“Sonny’s being rushed in—and no one’s been able to talk to him since Carly died.” She headed for the elevators.

—

She found Jason pacing the length of the small waiting room, back and forth from one line of chairs to another. He turned, frowning at her. “Hey. I was going to call you back—”

“What happened to Sonny?” Elizabeth demanded. “Is he hurt?”

“I don’t know. I came back from talking to Emily and he was in the penthouse,” Jason said. “Lying on the floor.” He lowered his voice, took her by the elbow and steered her over towards the corner. “He told me we needed to leave town. That it wasn’t safe.”

“Well, obviously—but—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Jason, there’s something you need to know—Patrick talked to Steven three days ago. Or at least got a voice mail from him.”

“Three days—” Jason nodded. “So he’s still alive. Or was.”

“Exactly. Apparently, Steven’s been trying to track down Kelly. She resigned after Lily was born.” She looked at him, searching his eyes, praying he wouldn’t lie to her. “Jason, how did Lily die? What was her cause of death?”

“What?” He frowned at her. “You—you know. Steven told you. He told me—she was stillborn. The car bomb—I didn’t get you clear in time.” He swallowed hard. “I pushed you down too hard—”

“No—” Elizabeth touched his arm, the first gentleness she’d shown him since this had started. “No. Because Patrick just told me she was alive. He never—he never talked to me about it. Thought it would be painful. She was alive.”

“I—” Jason stepped back. Shook his head. “No—no, that’s not—that’s not what—How—”

“He said Kelly quit because she’d lost two babies. She blamed herself. I couldn’t see why—because we were both told the same thing. We both thought she died because of the bomb—”

“I don’t—” Jason clenched his fist. “I don’t understand.”

“The records don’t match. The electronic ones—they say she was stillborn, but Patrick and I just checked the paper records. Not only does Lily’s file say she was born alive—but it doesn’t have a record of her death.”

He stared at her for a long moment, but he wouldn’t say it. She knew it—it had been painful to say it outloud to put the wish out into the world. “And Steven was trying to track down Kelly.”

“Yes.”

Jason took out his cell phone and dialed. Without breaking eye contact, he said, “Justus, find an address for Kelly Lee. Now. Make sure it’s current.”

“Jason—”

“Mr. Morgan?”

They turned to see a doctor exiting one of the cubicle rooms. Elizabeth remembered him—Ian Devlin.

“Is Sonny okay?” Jason asked. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s been drugged. A potentially fatal overdose of Vicodin.” Ian looked at Elizabeth for a moment, then focused on Jason. “I’m sorry. He’s slipped into a coma and might never come out of it.”

July 10, 2020

This entry is part 10 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos.

“It was Sam, wasn’t it?”

Jason’s quiet question had Elizabeth looking away, folding her arms, and staring at the floor. When the face, the voice had flashed into her head during her shower, Elizabeth had been convinced that she was wrong.

And by the time she’d gotten out of the shower, she’d also persuaded herself that Jason would never believe her.

But she’d told him anyway, because maybe the strange flash would explain something—

She hadn’t expected him to look at her with reluctant acceptance—as if he almost expected her answer.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said finally. “I remember Sam. But that doesn’t mean—”

Jason looked away, then nodded. “It makes sense,” he murmured. “In a horrible way. It’s not like we don’t both know that Sam, when she feels justified, is capable of cruelty.”

“And you think she’d be justified in not only killing Franco, but letting me go down for it?” Elizabeth said, her throat thick. She looked away, tears stinging her eyes. She’d forgotten—somehow, in all the craziness—

She’d forgotten that Jason’s last memory of her would be that lie. That terrible, haunting lie about Danny. She hadn’t just kept Sam’s child from her—she’d ended up keeping Jason’s son away from him.

And maybe that had occurred to him—

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t,” Jason said flatly. “I said she’d feel justified. Not that she’d be right.” He clenched his fist at his side. “Why would you ever think I’d let someone get away with doing this to you—”

“Because it wouldn’t be the first time,” Elizabeth said without thinking. “You made sure Courtney got away with blinding me.” Jason flinched, then stepped back from her.

“That’s—”

“Different? To you. Not to me.” Elizabeth dragged her hands through her hair, took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she repeated when he said nothing. “I’m not—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I think the boys and I should—we should go. When Cameron wakes up, I’ll—I’ll find somewhere else—maybe we can go to Laura’s—”

She turned to leave, but Jason stepped in front of her—blocking her exit. “No. Okay. You’re right. And I know things are complicated with Sam. The things she’s done in the past to you, and—” He looked at Jake who was helping Aiden with the video game controller. “The things she’s done to the boys—”

“You married her, Jason. I know you forgave her—”

“But you didn’t.”

“I—” Elizabeth pressed her lips together. “All of that’s ancient history,” she said finally. “Right now, I need to know who’s trying to hurt me today. And while yes, Sam and I have tormented and hurt each other in the past—I’m willing to admit that my memory might be flawed—”

“Diane is tracking Sam down now,” Jason said. When she stared at him, he sighed. “You’re not wrong to think of Sam as someone who would hurt you. Who wants Franco dead. She’s the only person on both of those lists. So Diane is already checking.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “Okay, then.”

“Laura called while you were asleep. And—” Jason hesitated. “Don’t go. You and the boys—you’re safe here—”

“I really hate that word,” Elizabeth muttered as she walked away from him as he stared after her, bewildered by the turn in the conversation.

“Elizabeth—”

She picked up her phone and winced. “I have a lot of missed calls,” she murmured. “I should get to them. Laura’s probably worried sick about Aiden.”

The conversation was clearly over, so Jason nodded. “Okay. I need to run out and take care of some things. I’ll check in with Diane. Call me if you need anything.”

——

Jason would never be comfortable looking at or talking to Drew Cain, the man who had—until eight months ago—been living Jason’s life. Raising his sons. Married to his wife. He’d been Jason Morgan, and, thanks to the memories still in his brain—still was.

Drew glanced up at him when Jason came to the office door at Aurora, and he shot to his feet. “I’ve been calling Elizabeth all day, but it keeps going to voicemail.” He stalked around the desk. “The news reports said the boys were missing, but—”

“They’re fine. Elizabeth panicked, sent Cameron with the boys to Canada.” Jason exhaled slowly, but then decided that Drew should probably have the full story.

So he told him everything—from the call in the middle of the night, to the scene at Elizabeth’s house, the drive to get the boys—and what had happened that morning.

Drew listened to it all, then closed his eyes when Jason finished with Elizabeth’s memory flash of Sam in the kitchen with her. “You think Sam did this.”

Jason hesitated—because Drew’s reaction wasn’t the denial he’d expected. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t want to, but Elizabeth remembers her. And it—I don’t know. I can’t see anyone killing Franco then going to the trouble of setting up Elizabeth.”

“If someone wanted him dead, there were easier ways,” Drew admitted. He dragged his hand across his face. “The thing is—I think—no, I know it’s possible.”

Jason blinked. “What? Why?”

“Because Sam wanted the divorce. Not me,” Drew clarified. “I thought she was leaving me for you—but then she left town. And I haven’t heard from her since. She hasn’t called Scout or Danny. I don’t—I can’t quite believe she’d put the kids through all of this if something wasn’t wrong.”

“Sam left almost a month ago. Why didn’t you say something?” Jason demanded.

“Because she left me,” Drew bit out. “And it was none of your damn business.”

“I—” Jason swore, then dug out his phone. He swore when he read the text message — “The PCPD is on their way to my place with an arrest warrant for Cameron.”

This entry is part 10 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: An Everlasting Love

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos.

If Jason hadn’t been a man of the law, the conversations with Elizabeth and his grandmother might have been enough to convince him to walk over to Ric Lansing’s fancy home a few streets from his grandmother and shoot him dead over his supper.

As it was, even with the badge pinned to his shirt, Jason wasn’t finding a lot to talk him out of it. Worried, however, about the paperwork Elizabeth said existed about a mortage on her ranch, Jason didn’t want to do anything that might put her out of a home.

First, he needed to prove Ric Lansing was a thieving monster so that Elizabeth and his grandmother would be safe—so that Cameron Lewis and his sons would have a measure of justice—

Then he’d kill him.

He slept on the problem that night, turning over the problem in his head as he slept restlessly in his rented rooms at the boarding house. The next morning, he decided to start with the man himself and see how Ric Lansing would account for his grandmother’s story about a mortage on her property.

He walked over to the bank before it opened — wanting to catch Lansing unawares. He sat on a wooden bench outside the brick entrance, stretched out his legs and waited.

Just before nine, Lansing sauntered across the street from the livery where he’d stabled his horse—stopping short as he recognized Jason. If Jason hadn’t been looking he might have missed the flicker of uncertainty in Ric’s expression.

Then it smoothed out and Ric adopted that smug smile Jason had always hated. “Sheriff. What can I do for you?”

“I had a question about my grandfather’s will,” Jason said, shortly. He got to his feet. “My grandmother said that you had a copy here at the bank.”

“Question?” Ric echoed. He unlocked the entrance, then indicated for Jason to follow him inside. “It was relatively straightforward. Of course, you could have come back for the reading.” He turned at the doorway to his own office, lifting a brow. “I believe you said you couldn’t be spared.”

“I was too far away,” Jason said flatly. “On an assignment in Texas. One of my grandfather’s cousins back East is disputing the estate. Claiming that Grandfather promised him a bequest.”

“Oh.” Ric’s brow smoothed out and he walked over to a set of cabinets. “That’s simple enough. The estate was left your grandmother in whole, with specific bequests for you and for your cousin, Dillon.” He flipped through the portfolio. “Yes. No mention of family back East. I was under the impression everyone who mattered had come with Edward when he moved out here.”

“He had a brother he didn’t speak to,” Jason said. He held out his hand for the portfiolio but Ric didn’t didn’t budge. “Is there a problem with letting me look at the estate documents? It should have all of that in writing—” He paused. “Including any demands on the estate or the house.”

“The house.” Ric set the portfolio down, then smiled at him. “I thought Bethie might have wandered over to you. I thought you’d come to see me about her problem.”

“Her problem turns out to be a common one in Diamond Springs,” Jason said dryly. “A lot of people who don’t need to mortgage their properties finding out they had. Steve Hardy, Edward Quartermaine, and Cameron Lewis founded this town. They owned a lot of it for a long time. I find it hard to believe all three of them mortgaged their properties to you.”

“And yet…” Ric slid out papers with another one of those smiles. “They did. Cameron’s debts were paid off with the sale of his house—”

“Debts to the bank,” Jason said. “In other words—you have the money his sons would have inherited—”

“What money?” Ric shrugged. “Your grandmother paid off her mortgage—”

“With a letter to Elizabeth lying about my marriage?” Jason cut in. “Strange way to absolve a debt—”

“It’s within my rights to assign value to the payments I received.” Ric looked at Jason. “You might have that tin star on your shirt, Sheriff, but we both know there’s nothing you can do. Not without breaking that oath you just swore to uphold.”

“It doesn’t bother you that Elizabeth doesn’t want you? That she never wanted you?”

Ric smirked, then folded up the papers and slid them back into the leather portfolio. He returned it to the cabinet, locked it. He turned back to Jason.

“I see you’ve been swallowing that radical nonsense, too. Next, you’ll be thinking women should have the right to vote.” He folded his arms. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I take what I want. And right now, she’s what I want.”

Ric lifted his chin. “And if you think that reaching for that gun in your holster worries me, I should tell you that all copies of the mortgages have been filed with the county assessment office. My estate will call in all debts. You might kill me, but Elizabeth will lose everything anyway.”

Jason stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. “All right. I only came here to see if you’d be dumb enough to admit it. Have a good day, Lansing.”

—

Elizabeth smiled wanly at the telegram Mrs. Baldwin had brought her back from the telegraph office that morning when she’d arrived for her work. “Well, that’s it, I suppose.”

“Dear?” Gail asked with a smile. She set a plate of hotcakes and sausage in front of Cameron. “Are you sure you won’t eat? Was the telegraph bad news?”

“No. No. It’s—I wasn’t expecting a reply so quickly.” After leaving the jail the day before, she’d gone to the Western Union and sent an express to an old friend.

And Patrick Drake had replied to day, agreeing to the purchase. She looked at Cameron. “Darling, how would you like to live in San Francisco?”

July 8, 2020

This entry is part 9 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Whatever It Takes

Written in 26 minutes. No time for edits.

Elizabeth found Patrick Drake in his usual spot at General Hospital—in his office, scribbling on a patient’s chart and in a state of general irritation with anyone he didn’t think was as smart as he was.

“Hey, you.”

Patrick glanced up, ready to snarl at whomever was interrupting him—then his handsome face exploded into a grin. He shoved back from his desk and enveloped her in a hug. “Hey! What are you doing here?”

“I came to town for the funeral,” Elizabeth said, hugging him back, grateful for an uncomplicated, friendly face. She’d always liked Justus—but she could tell he was still gravitating towards Jason and that side of the fence.

Patrick Drake would always be on Elizabeth’s side. He’d been like a brother to her since he and Steven had completed their internship together at General Hospital and planned a takeover of the entire place — Steven would take over for their grandfather as Chief of Staff and Patrick would make the surgery department the best in the country—and Elizabeth would run the nursing program.

How quaint those dreams seemed now.

“Really?” Patrick lifted his brows as he drew back and gestured for her to sit on the sofa in his office. “I didn’t think you and Carly were that close.”

“We weren’t, but she was kind last year,” Elizabeth said simply. “And I wanted to check on Michael. I wasn’t sure if…” She bit her lip and looked at her hands. “I didn’t know if anyone would be able to find Jason.”

“Right.” Patrick leaned back against the arm. “Is he back, too?”

“Yeah. He is. Um, nothing—don’t worry. I’m not stupid about it,” she said. “Nothing’s changed. I know why he left, why he stayed out of touch, but it honestly doesn’t change much for me, you know?”

“Because he still left.” Patrick nodded. “What does Steven think?”

Elizabeth frowned at him. “He—I haven’t—” She cleared her throat. “That’s why I’m here, Patrick. Because I haven’t heard from Steven in a week. I came down to find out what’s going on. I called the hospital and he hasn’t been here either—”

Patrick frowned, tipping his head. “Well, no, he took some time off two weeks ago. But maybe that didn’t get down the grapevine.” He grimaced. “But—maybe that explains the message he left me a few days ago—”

“A few—” Elizabeth reached out, grabbed his wrist. “What do you mean? What did he say? How long ago exactly?”

“Wednesday,” Patrick told her. “He left me a voicemail in the middle of the night, telling me to send you back to Boston. I didn’t—I didn’t think about it much. I had two surgeries that day, and I thought Steven was with you. He said he was taking time to deal with family stuff, and you’re the only family he gives a damn about.”

Patrick got to his feet and went over to his desk to get his phone, then hesitated. He looked at her. “He never came to see you?”

“No. And if he left a message on Wednesday—he was still alive.” Elizabeth felt something release inside of her. “Oh, God. Thank God. I was so scared—no one else has even heard from him since Carly was found—but you talked to him—” Patrick had heard from her brother the day before yesterday—

“Why would he come to see me?” Elizabeth asked. “I was planning to come here in a week or so. For, um…” She twisted her wedding ring. “My divorce is almost final, and I wanted to clean out Lily’s room.”

“Right.” Patrick exhaled slowly, then went to sit behind his desk. “It’s been a year already. It doesn’t seem that way, you know?” He was quiet for a moment. “You know, Steven must have been thinking about it, though. He was trying to find the doctor who delivered her.”

Elizabeth frowned. “What—no—why? Why would—”

“I don’t know. Maybe—you know, Dr. Quartermaine is thinking of retiring soon, and Steven should be stepping up. I know he was thinking of quitting the moonlighting he was doing for Sonny. He only stayed for you. Maybe he was just…tying up loose ends.”

“Patrick—why would he need to find Kelly? She still works—” When Patrick met her eyes, Elizabeth’s throat tightened. “Kelly doesn’t work here?” Elizabeth had left the hospital the year earlier, unable to continue working in the place where her daughter had died.

“No. Kelly left about a month after you did. I always figured because she blamed herself. It—it was a rough delivery. You know—or maybe you don’t. You were hurt, too, and you needed surgery. I think Kelly blamed herself—maybe she went too fast—something she did—” Patrick sighed.

Elizabeth couldn’t breathe. “How could she blame herself?” she asked softly. “Lily—she was stillborn. She was—she was gone before I came to the hospital—”

None of this was making sense. Kelly had told her—

“I—” Patrick grimaced. “Maybe I’m remembering it wrong. But the paperwork I saw—Lily died a few hours later. While you were in surgery—”

“No! Jason told me he—” Elizabeth slapped a hand on his desk, forcing him to look at her. “Jason saw her. I have a photograph of her—” Her voice broke. “Jason or Steven—or Emily—someone would known she lived that long—”

“Okay, okay—” Patrick held up his hands. He turned to his computer. “Let me look it up. I can just—” He frowned.

Elizabeth darted around the desk to see the monitor and her heart sank. Because Patrick had been wrong. “See, it says it there,” she gestured. “Stillborn.”

“Yeah—but—” Patrick shook his head. “Wait—wait—” He typed a few more keys. “No—no, this isn’t right. How—”

He scowled and got to his feet. “Come on, let’s go downstairs to the file room. Where we keep the paper files.”

“Patrick, what are you looking for?” Elizabeth demanded. “What’s wrong?”

“Just—” He walked out of the offie, and she scurried after him, surprised when he took the steps.

“Damn it, wait—”

She caught up to him two floors later, her shorter legs making it harder to match his longer stride. He was already in the archives, searching for the right cabinet. “Patrick—”

He pulled out the file, then scowled. “This is wrong. The blood type doesn’t match—and—there’s no—there’s no cause of death. Or time of death.”

Elizabeth stared at him, her breathing catching in her throat. “I don’t—I don’t understand.”

“This file doesn’t say anything about Lily’s death,” Patrick muttered. He gave her the file, then looked in another cabinet. “Here—I knew I remembered—another baby was born that day—” He pulled out the file. “This baby was born stillborn, due to placenta previa. The placenta separated and the baby lost too much oxygen.”

He stared it for a long moment, swallowing hard before looking up at her. “Two babies born that day, both delivered by Kelly Lee. A stillborn and a live baby girl. I remember—I knew Lily had been alive. You were in surgery, Jason was getting stitched up, and the PCPD grabbed them—Steven took that picture of Lily, but she wasn’t dead in that photo, Elizabeth. She was alive. He wanted you to see her—”

“But—”

“But then she died,” Patrick continued. “And I guess—I never asked. I never talked to Steven about it, and we didn’t talk about Lily. You know?”

Elizabeth pressed her fist to her mouth. “Patrick. Patrick, is my little girl alive?”

——

At the penthouse, Jason shoved the door open, so irritated and frustrated from his meeting with Emily that he didn’t notice he wasn’t alone in the penthouse.

Across the room, sprawled out on the ground—lay the still form of Sonny Corinthos.

July 7, 2020

This entry is part 5 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 21 minutes. No time for rereading or typos.

Jason wasn’t entirely sure what was happening with Elizabeth.

A few months ago, it had seemed clearer. His marriage was breaking up, and he was reconnecting with her—remembering the son they’d shared, regretting how he’d handled things with Sam.

Then he’d kissed her that day on the bridge, starting stopping by her house, spending time with her and her boys. He’d saved her from Ewan Keenan, the crazy doctor who had helped Jerry Jacks poison the town through the water system. Since then—it was different.

And standing in front of her, in his penthouse, the place where they’d reconnected six years ago and created a little life that hadn’t survived—where he’d proposed to her twice—Jason knew she was calling his bluff.

Elizabeth fully expected him to step back again—like he had after the bridge, like he had a thousand other times in their long history. For too many years, he’d stepped back.

Run away.

“I am the Queen of Regrets,” she’d said with a smirk the night he’d saved her life. “And you can be the King.”

He didn’t want that anymore.

So Jason did what he knew she didn’t expect. He stepped forward, took the strap of her purse between two fingers and slid it off her bare shoulder. “You know where the stereo is.”

Elizabeth blinked at him, her breath caught in her throat, and then she searched his eyes for a moment—as if trying to figure out what he was thinking.

“Or did you change your mind?” Jason asked. He set the purse on the desk, next to his keys. He lifted a brow.

“No.” She bit her lip. “That’s what you do.” Elizabeth wandered over to the shelf by the stairs and glanced at the old stereo that had been sitting for years. She didn’t even wait for his reaction—

Because he knew what she was thinking. What she was remembering. He’d never had any trouble remembering their history or the moments that should have changed his life.

They were standing nearly in the same spot where he’d asked her to marry him the last time. And she’d looked so scared, so excited—and she’d said yes.

And then he’d promised not back out.

He swallowed hard as she finally found a station and turned it on low. Then Elizabeth came back to stand in front of him.

Making him choose. Leaving it up to him.

So Jason stepped forward, took her arms and slid them around his neck, his fingers trailing down her bare skin as he settled them around her waist. He didn’t hear the lyrics, didn’t even really register the music.

Only the way she looked up at him, at her eyes, and the way it felt to have her back in his arms—wondering why he’d ever let her go.

They swayed there, barely even dancing, barely even breathing. He couldn’t have said how long it was until the song she’d found drifted from a slow ballad to something more upbeat and rock.

Elizabeth started to pull away, started to break eye contact, but Jason tugged her back and bent his head to brush his lips against hers. Her mouth parted beneath his, and then she kissed him back.

For only a moment before she jerked back, then nearly flew away from him, standing by the sofa, her eyes large on her face.

“Should I apologize?” Jason asked roughly, his stomach rolling with worry. Had he ruined everything? Should he have just let her go home?”

“N-No.” Elizabeth took a deep breath, closed her eyes, then shook her head. “No. But I can’t— Ican’t do this again.”

“Elizabeth—”

“I love—I love being around you,” she told him. “But you—” Elizabeth bit her lip, looked away. “You just finalized your divorce. And the last time—” She straightened and seemed to find her strength. “The last time we were here, in this position, you walked away from me. And the family you told me you wanted.”

“I know—it was a mistake—”

“You didn’t want it with me,” she continued, her eyes glimmering with tears. Tears that felt like a punch to his stomach. “You chose them with Sam. Less than a year later. You always—you go back to her. So I can’t—” Her voice quavered slightly. “I can’t be the second choice.”

“You’re not—” Jason took a step towards her, but Elizabeth lifted her hand to stop him from coming any closer.

“I am. Right now. Because we’re spending a lot of time together, you know? And it’s great. I don’t want to lose that. Every time we do this, and we fail, I lose you again. And I’m—” A tear slid down her cheek. “I’m not strong enough to do it again. Please.”

He let his hands fall to his side. “You’re stronger than you think,” Jason said softly. “But okay. I won’t—we’ll just—we’ll just put this away.” Again.

“Okay.” She wrapped her arms aroud herself. “And I’m sorry—I know I was probably sending you mixed signals—”

“You weren’t—”

“I was,” she insisted. Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “The truth is that I am always going to be in love with you. And I’m sure—I’m sure that, in some way, it’s the same for you. I’m willing to accept that. I just—I’m not sure it’s enough. Not after the last time we went through with this.”

“I know.”

“And I also know—I can even accept that it was circumstances—you know, the world around us. We let it ruin things. What happened with Michael, then the Zaccharas, and the Russians—we let it mess things up. You walked away, and I let you go.” Elizabeth walked past him to pick up her purse.

He turned to face her as she walked towards the door. “You walked away from me once, too,” he reminded her. “I let you go.”

“Twice.” A hint of a smile. “We’ve both walked away twice. You left town, then I wouldn’t leave Lucky.”

“And you left after Sonny—”

“And then you left after Russians.” Elizabeth exhaled. “I’m not walking away, this time, Jason. We’re not going down this road. Not again. Not now.”

“And I’m not letting you go. Not again. Not now,” he repeated softly. “I’ll walk you out.”

This entry is part 9 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 23 minutes. No time for typos or edits.

When Jason checked on Elizabeth ten minutes later, she was curled up on her side and fast asleep. Relieved she was going to get some rest, Jason left the door partially ajar so he’d hear her if she woke up. Then he checked on Jake and Aiden, who were still asleep. They’d been out about four hours at this point, so he knew they’d be waking soon.

He hoped Elizabeth was ready to talk to them — Jason really didn’t know how much they should know or what to do next.

“Cameron,” Jason said when he came back into the living room. “Why don’t you take the other bed in Jake’s room?” he said. He sat down next to him as Diane put away her notepad. “Jake and Aiden are sharing the bottom bunk. You can take the top.”

“I couldn’t—” Cameron shook his head. “I can’t sleep.”

“That’s what your mother said,” Jason said. “She laid down and now she’s asleep. Come on. You need to rest.”

“Just lay down for a few hours,” Diane told him. “I need to contact the PCPD anyway.” They all got to their feet as Cameron reluctantly nodded. “I had them cancel the APB when you picked up the boys, but we’ll need to figure out what to tell them. And if you’re pulled in for questioning, Cameron, I want you alert.”

Cameron scrubbed his hands over his face, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He looked at Jason, hesitant. “You’re sure Mom is sleeping?”

“Yeah, I am. I’m here if she wakes up. I’m not going anywhere,” Jason promised. Even though he knew he should check in with Sonny, Jason didn’t plan to leave this apartment until he was confident Elizabeth and the boys were okay.

“All right.” Cameron nodded. “All right. I’ll try to get—or at least I’ll be there if Jake or Aiden wake up.” His voice trembled slightly on those last words. “What—what do I say to them?”

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “We’ll—we’ll deal with it when we have to.”

He watched Cameron disappear down the hallway, then heard the bedroom door gently close a moment later. Jason looked back at Diane. “What do you think?”

“I think we might run into a few problems because of Elizabeth’s actions after it happened,” Diane admitted. “She sent the boys away before Franco was murdered in her kitchen. That looks guilty. Like she got rid of them to finish the job.”

“She didn’t—”

“You and I know that, Jason, but they already matched her fingerprints to the knife. Now, we have a great case for self-defense with Cameron’s statement. We can argue that Elizabeth came back in to call the police but was attacked again—except—”

“She doesn’t remember anything. But—someone else was there, Diane.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to sort through his thoughts. “Who?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about that,” Diane said, slowly. Her dark eyes met his. “And you’re not going to like my answer.”

Jason frowned at her. “Diane?”

“The list of people who hate Franco? Endless.” Diane shrugged. “The list of people who wanted Franco dead? Nearly as long.”

“I know, but—”

“But—and hear me out—we have two possibilities. One — Franco went to the house last night with a partner. A look out. Or Two, someone followed Franco there, and took their opportunity to get rid of Franco and frame Elizabeth.”

Neither of those possibilities were good ones. Jason sat back down, clasped his hands between his knees and looked at her. “You have someone in mind.”

“I do.” Diane perched at the edge of the chair and studied him. “Franco has very few friends in this town—that probably does not surprise you. There’s Ava Jerome. Her daughter, Kiki. And his father, Scott.”

Jason hesitated. “I don’t know Kiki that well, but I can’t—I can’t see Ava or Scott helping Franco—”

“Really?” Diane lifted her brows. “You don’t think Ava Jerome would do something like this? You really haven’t been here that long—”

“I know she’s capable of violence,” Jason said flatly. “But everything Sonny and Carly told me happened more than a year ago. The woman I know risked her life to help me escape. I don’t see her turning around and putting kids in danger, putting Elizabeth in danger, to help Franco attack her.” He shook his head. “No.”

“Fair enough. She wasn’t on my list either.” Diane tipped her head. “And I agree with you about Scott. So that’s possibility one out of the way. Which means we need someone who hated Franco enough to kill him as well as someone who didn’t mind Elizabeth and her family being terrorized. Didn’t mind Elizabeth paying for his murder.”

Jason stared at Diane for a long moment, then shook his head again. He shoved himself off the sofa with another shake of his head. “No.”

“I don’t enjoy this possibility either, Jason, but the list of people who do not like Elizabeth? I can count that on my hand and skip fingers. There are two people in this town that activey dislike her. And only one of them has a history of terrorizing her.”

Jason dipped his head, took a long breath. “It can’t be here. She wouldn’t—”

“Wouldn’t do what, Jason? Watch as Jake was kidnapped?” Diane sighed. “Hire men to scare Elizabeth and her children with guns? You haven’t even been here long enough to know what Sam could do. She also had an illness last year that—well, she tried to kill Sonny and almost killed Drew. She’s supposed to be in recovery from that—” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jason. But unless you can think of someone else that hates Franco and Elizabeth the way Sam does—”

“It could just be opportunity,” Jason said roughly. “Someone who wanted Franco dead and didn’t care—”

“That’s true,” Diane allowed. “That brings us back to a very long list of suspects. I suppose we’ll have to see how this turns out. But let me—” Jason looked at her sharply and she held up her hands. “Let me just ask Spinelli to look into Sam quietly. I know she left town a few weeks ago, when Drew filed for divorce. Let me just make sure she’s where she’s supposed to be and hasn’t left.”

Jason finally nodded, then sighed. “Yeah. You’re right.” He looked down the hallway where Elizabeth and her boys were sleeping. “I don’t—I can’t believe she’d do it, but it’s better to know for sure.”

——

Elizabeth only slept for another hour. Then she showered and changed into the clothes Carly had sent over. By then, Jake and Aiden had woken up and were in the living room, playing video games.

Aiden had asked a few questions about why Franco would tie them up, but Jason had managed to avoid answering them. Laura Spencer had called a few times, asking about Aiden—but Jason had, again, deflected.

When Elizabeth emerged from the bathroom, her wet hair clipped up, she looked a bit better even if there were still dark circles under her eyes.

She accepted hugs and kisses from her boys, and smiled faintly at Jason. “Thanks for making sure Cameron slept. Can—” She jerked her head towards his small kitchen. “Can we talk for a minute? Jake, Aiden, can you guys go back to your game?”

“Mommy—” Aiden began, but Jake took his brother by the shoulder.

“Sure, Mom. We’ll be right over here.”

“What’s up?” Jason asked, his voice pitched low as they stood by the sink, the furthest they could get from the boys.

“I—” She sighed. “I was in the shower—and I remembered something.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I came back into the house—and I fell—but something hit me. And then—then I remember being dragged.”

She stared at her hand. “I tried to run,” she murmured. “Or at least crawl, but someone grabbed my hair and yanked it back. I turned over, and—I think—I saw who was there.”

Jason held his breath, searched her eyes. “Who?” he asked quietly.

“I—I don’t know. It was a woman. She was a small, but I can’t—” Elizabeth shook her head. “ I can’t bring her face—”

But she was lying. He knew it. He looked away, towards Jake, the little boy who’d been kidnapped once while she watched and knew the truth.

“It was Sam, wasn’t it?”

July 6, 2020

This entry is part 9 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: An Everlasting Love

Written in 20 minutes. No time for edits or typos.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and stepped back from Jason. “Thank you for your advice,” she told him. “I can handle it from here—”

“Elizabeth—” Jason stepped forward, tried to grab her elbow but she smoothly evaded him and opened the door. He followed her outside. “Please–

“I have—” She closed her eyes, put up a hand to keep him away. “I have humiliated myself quite enough, Jason. Sheriff,” she corrected. It was important to remember that. He wasn’t the boy of her youth—no matter what he’d said or the letters that had been stolen—

He could have simply returned. He hadn’t.

“I feel satisfied that if Ric attempted to take legal action with custody of my child, that I am protected. My husband’s will was handled in Sacramento. I have my own copies. He can take whatever else he wants—Cameron is what matters.”

“I can help,” Jason promised her as she started across the street to the livery stables. “Let me—”

“Sheriff Scorpio said he would help us when Ric stole Cameron’s home.” Elizabeth lifted her chin. “He couldn’t. Ric has too many friends in powerful places in this county. I need—I need to leave.”

“But—”

Yes, that was the answer. She’d hoped to stay—hoped to continue her family’s legacy, her grandfather’s dream but the ranch was already lost. All she could do was start over somewhere else.

“Thank you again, Sheriff. But I don’t need you.” She met his eyes. “I can manage on my own. I always have.”

Jason flinched. “I’m sorry—”

“You have nothing to apologize for. You made the decisions that felt right to you, and now it is up to me to do the same.”

She turned her back on him to retrieve her horse and cart, and Jason finally returned to the jail.

But he couldn’t get his conversation with Elizabeth out of his mind, and the conviction that there had to be a way to stop Ric from continuing to destroy Elizabeth’s life and the lives the people around him.

When the sun had dipped behind the Sierra Nevadas and the night deputy had arrived, Jason took his hat off the post and headed back to his grandmother’s.

Lila Quartermaine had some questions to answer.

“Dearest.” Lila beamed as he entered the parlor. “I was hoping you would join me for some dinner. You remember Mrs. Barrington—” She gestured to the other elderly woman seated on the chaise.

“Sheriff,” Amanda Barrington murmured with a hint of disdain. He’d never live down his illegitimacy to some of these people, and Jason had stopped caring long ago.

“Grandmother, I can’t stay but I was hoping we could talk in private for a moment.”

“Jason, I have a guest—”

“That’s quite all right, Lila.” Amanda got to her feet. “You should deal with…” She sniffed. “His problem. I’ll see you another evening.”

She swept by Jason as if she were still swanning around the parlors of New York City, as if her family hadn’t lost most of its wealth before the gold strike.

“Jason, I hope you can explain your rude behavior,” Lila said as he strode forward, closing the parlor doors behind him.

“If you can answer a question honestly.” Jason perched on the edge of the sofa, narrowing his eyes at his indomitable grandmother. “Did you do anything to keep Elizabeth’s letters from me? Or mine from her?”

“I hardly see what relevance that has.” Lila rose to her feet and crossed to the mental. She folded her arms and stared into the fire. “It was ancient history—”

“So the answer is yes.” Jason’s stomach sank. He had trusted her—had trusted this beloved member of his family with the person he loved and Lila had let him down.

He’d let Elizabeth down by trusting the wrong people.

“Jason—”

“If you don’t tell me what happened, I will leave this town and never come back,” Jason told her bluntly. “And Dillon will be all that’s left.”

Lila pursed her lips. “That’s a terrible thing to threaten an old woman.” She squared her shoulders. “Jeffrey Webber told me that he found you to be an unsuitable husband for his daughter. I disagreed, of course. You might not have been born in wedlock, but the Quartermaines were certainly better than the Webber or Hardys.”

“Grandmother—”

“And when I refused to help him keep you two apart, he made sure I regretted it. He had been your grandfather’s doctor, you know. He refused to come to see Edward when he had his last—” Lila pressed her fingers to her lips. “He refused to see to Edward. Dr. Lewis did what he could, but the delay—your grandfather never recovered fully. He remained weakened .”

“I—” Jason swallowed. “But—”

“I was going to write you. To demand you come home and take care of this. To—to help.” Lila met his eyes. “But then Richard Lansing came to the house. And he showed me—”

She closed her eyes. “Somehow he had a copy of a mortgage. He said our bank accounts were empty. That he owned my house. And that the only way I could have the money restored in the bank was to…was to tell Elizabeth what I needed to tell her.”

Jason clenched his fists. Ric had tormented his family? What hadn’t anyone told him?

“I—I knew how you felt about her of course, and I thought, well I’ll tell him but I’ll tell you the truth. But then—he told me he owned shared in the railroad you had signed on with—that he could arrange to assign you to the—” Lila’s lips pursed. “To work with the Chinese. Blowing up tunnels, doing the worst of the work—he’d put you on the front. And he could do that before I could reach you.”

Jason remembered the two years he’d worked on the railroads in Northern California, and the Chinese workers with the company had been the most dangerous and lethal jobs—many had died. Ric had threatened to kill him.

“Grandmother—”

“He just—he wanted me to tell Elizabeth that you’d married someone else.” Lila swallowed hard. “And I did. I’m so sorry, darling—”

“When—” Jason stared at her. “When did you tell her? How?”

“Elizabeth had come to me shortly after Alexander and Peter had died. It was a terrible time—she wanted to send a letter to you. She’d written you for the first time in a few months—apparently, she had given up but their deaths had, I supposed, encouraged her to reach out again. She wanted to send a second one with my letters, to make sure it reached you.”

“And you told her—”

“That you had married someone else nearly a year earlier. That you’d…” Lila looked ghastly as she finished her statement. “That you must have forgotten her because you’d never asked about her. Not even once.”