Monday, May 19, 2014
Not that anyone asked me, but it’s hard to tell family they can’t count on you. That you can’t be trusted. It doesn’t matter what they want you to do, but sometimes you have to think of yourself first. You’re told over and over again to think of others, not to be selfish, but screw that. Sometimes you have to put you first. You heard it here first, Port Charles. Love yourself, do for yourself. Everyone else can screw off. At the end of the day, you have to find a way to sleep at night.
– “Ask Jessie”
General Hospital: Hospital Room
Sabrina studied the area of her scalp a nurse had shaved in preparation for the surgery that morning. “If I don’t straighten my hair as often, I think the curls will hide the scar better.”
At her side, Felix swallowed a scowl. He hated seeing in her in this room, in a hospital gown, her glasses back on her face because she couldn’t wear her contacts, her hair in those wild and nearly unmanageable curls.
It was a reminder of what was about to happen, what might happen.
“We’ll scour the Eastern seaboard to find a stylist who can hide it without you having to deal with those curls again,” Felix said, plastering a bright smile on his face. “I won’t rest until we do.”
Sabrina offered him a smile, the same expression she had been giving him for a week. The anxiety had faded and now she seemed so goddamn accepting. What will be will be, she’d told him. I’m placing myself in God’s hands.
Well, he and God were not always copacetic. He had it on good authority from the Westboro Baptist Church and other crazy ass Evangelicals that God hated him and others like him.
Why should God do him any favors?
But he wanted Sabrina to be okay, to be calm, so he said nothing about his increasing conviction that nothing was going to be okay. She could end up with damage, with loss of motor skills. It was brain surgery for Christ’s sake. Anything could happen.
“Felix,” she said. “I know you and Patrick aren’t seeing eye to eye these days. I want you to forgive him for choosing Robin.”
He scowled. If Patrick had stuck with Sabrina, well—he didn’t know what would be different, but something would have to be.
“He did right by him, by Emma. I’m not angry anymore. I was blessed to have him in my life, and my son will be blessed to have him as a father.” She reached for his hand. “Felix, promise me you’ll forgive him.”
“If you stop talking like you’re gonna go to the electric chair,” Felix muttered, “I’ll forgive the devil himself.”
“I love you, Felix. I want to make sure you know that.” She squeezed his hand.
“I love you, too. Now shut up and let’s talk about Survivor or something. I can’t handle any more of this drama.”
Cassadine Island: Robin’s Lab
Robin glanced up from her notes as a guard stepped inside her doorway, ushered Jason in, then left them. She lunged to her feet. “Jason!” She hadn’t been able to see him since he’d been moved to another section of the building weeks ago.
He still looked a bit fatigued and had yet to regain the body mass he’d once had. But he was there. He was solid. He was Jason.
“Hey.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m going today.”
She blinked. “What? You’re—Victor’s letting you go?” No. That couldn’t right.
“He’s sending me back to Port Charles.” Jason lifted his brows, as if to remind her they were both on camera every second of every day on this island. “Cassadine won’t tell me what he wants, but I have my marching orders.”
Robin bit her lip. There was so much she wanted to ask him, but she couldn’t. “Okay. Is…is there anything you can tell me?”
Jason hesitated a moment. “I’m allowed to tell Elizabeth the truth,” he said. “What does Patrick know?”
“Patrick only knows that you’re alive. He doesn’t know about your brother. I doubt you’ll be allowed to tell him anything along those lines.” Robin tapped her pen. “Elizabeth—she’ll understand. Her capacity for forgiveness and compassion is limitless, and you know she’s more in tune to the Cassadine sensibilities. This will likely make sense to her in a way that most people would reject.”
“Cassadine gave me a stack of newspapers—the highlights from the last five years.” His mouth twisted. “I know the hell Elizabeth has dealt with. Jake’s accident, Aidan’s kidnapping—”
Robin sighed. “It’s been difficult,” she admitted. “But once Elizabeth understands it wasn’t you, she’ll—it’ll be okay.”
“I don’t know what Cassadine has planned for me,” Jason said after a moment. “But I won’t forget who was there when I woke up. Or what you’ve done for me. I promise you that, Robin.”
“I know it.”
He hugged her, then left.
They both knew what he was going to do. He would play along with Victor Cassadine for as long as he had to, then he would take him down and bring Robin home.
She had known walking away from her life in Port Charles was a risk, but she wasn’t sorry she’d done this for Jason. And she was convinced, once Patrick understood everything Jason had been through for five years, what this could mean to Elizabeth, he would forgive her.
He had to.
County Jail: Meeting Room
“I have a sentence recommendation on the table.” Gia opened her portfolio and leaned back in the uncomfortable wooden chair. “You serve two to five years and surrender all rights to the child known as Ben Westbourne. I won’t argue for parole in two years.”
Britt’s lawyer turned to her. “It’s a good deal, Britt. You could serve a year and a half with good behavior.”
Britt narrowed her eyes. “You told me I could get out of this. That it wouldn’t go to trial—”
“I said we had a decent shot of getting the case dismissed,” Fennimore broke in. “If this goes to trial, you’ll be convicted. The evidence is strong. I can likely get it reversed on appeal, but the appellate courts move like molasses in New York.”
“You’re looking at two years inside regardless, Britt.” Gia arched a brow. “Maybe longer. And that’s supposing you can get it reversed. Maybe you can. But do you want to gamble on a maybe? You get convicted, Britt, the sentencing recommendation is fifteen years to life.”
Britt’s skin was pasty, her healthy glow long since diminished. “You’re lying—”
“It’s a huge risk,” Fennimore told his client. “And I can’t recommend you take it. I told you a plea agreement was a our best bet if we were bound over—”
“You’re not doing this to put me in jail,” Britt snarled. “You’re doing this so I’ll give up Ben. That’s what you want.”
“It’s a factor,” Gia admitted. “But I’m sure your lawyer has advised you as to your chances in family court.” She leaned forward. “Face it, Britt. You’ve lost your career, you’re likely going to lose your freedom. Dante and Lulu have temporary custody. What court is going to select you over them?”
“You don’t even know me. How can you be so hateful?”
“I don’t need a reason to enforce the law,” Gia said simply. “I get it. Your parents set a poor moral example growing up. Your mommy has rescued you every time you needed her. She’s abandoned you, too. What’s left for you, Britt? I’m offering you your best chance at building another life. You go away now, you surrender your rights to Ben. You serve your suspension from the AMA. Maybe you have a shot at rebuilding your life.”
Britt closed her eyes. “God.”
“I get it,” Britt snapped at her lawyer. “I’ll take the deal.”
General Hospital: Waiting Room
Patrick’s laugh was low and somewhat pained. “Tracy really doesn’t care for Sam.”
“No.” Elizabeth sipped her water and shook her head. “No, there’s something there. Something extra. It can’t just be because Sam didn’t let Monica have Jason declared dead or kept her from Danny. Tracy’s hatred is too deep.”
He leaned back and closed his eyes. They were in the second hour of Sabrina’s three hour surgery, and Elizabeth was filling Patrick and Felix in on the board meeting from the previous week to keep their minds off things.
Felix’s smile was also pained but it was genuine. “Would have loved to see you in action. You don’t get your bitch on nearly enough, Nurse Webber.”
Elizabeth laughed then. “True. I try to save it so it’s more effective.” She shifted in her chair. “Am I bad person because I kind of enjoyed Sam getting ambushed?”
“Hell, no.” Felix shook his head. “I don’t know her that well, but I know enough to get the gist. And I feel bad her man decided not to leave her anything when he died, but so what? Life’s tough. Get a helmet.” He shrugged. “There are worse things in life than being poor. You offered to make sure her boy had money.”
“If Jason’s will goes through as written,” Elizabeth said, “I’m going to go through with my original plans. Set up trusts for Aidan and Danny. And I think I’ll put the rest of the money away for Michael, Morgan, and Joss.”
Patrick sighed. “All the hell that man put you though, Elizabeth.” He looked away. “What a piece of garbage he turned out to be, and my wife risking her life for him—”
“Patrick.” But Elizabeth’s protest was half-hearted. She no longer had the energy to defend Jason. She was stuck with ELQ shares, prepared to go to court over Jason’s estate because he had dumped it on her without a single regard for Sam…
She just didn’t understand any of it.
“I loved him so much,” she murmured. “Going to court, signing a paper that I want him to be declared dead, it ripped my heart out. I want him here. I want him here with Jake and Danny, to see how wonderful they are. How much they look like him. How much Danny already looks up to Jake—but at the same time, I can’t deny it’s easier with him gone.”
“Honey.” Felix touched her shoulder. “There’s no shame in admitting that. Patrick’s right. The dude put you through the ringer. You’re better off without him. And one day, Sam will get that, too. It’s just fresh right now for her.”
“Part of me gets her so completely.” Elizabeth leaned back. “If I take Monica out of the picture, if I weren’t so involved with the Quartermaines, I might even be rooting Sam on. She’s alienating the people in her life to hold on to Jason’s money. Because if she holds on to that, she can hold on to Jason. Her mother looked so annoyed with her.”
“Anger is the most addictive stage of grief,” Patrick said after a moment. “After my mother died, I spent a decade being angry.” He looked at Elizabeth. “What do you think the endgame of this is going to be?”
“Sam’s going to lose if she takes this to court. The judge might award a portion of the estate to Danny, and that’s fine with me. But she won’t see a dime of it.” Elizabeth hesitated.
“I know that face,” Felix told Patrick. “That’s her sad sucker face.”
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “I just want this to go away. I don’t want to deal with ELQ shares or trusts or anything. I want to concentrate on my boys. On my job.” She reached over and squeezed Patrick’s hands. “On my friends.”
“Well, just put it in Diane Miller’s capable hands, tell Sam to deal with her, and put it out of your head,” Felix advised.
There was quiet then, as Elizabeth had run out of conversation, and their minds all returned to the reason they were there.
One more hour.
Queen of Angels Cemetery
Bobbie knelt in front of the stone and began to clear away some stray grass, a few weeds. Maxie stood behind her aunt, her hands clasped behind her back, reading the words.
Barbara Jean Jones
“She would have been twenty-nine this year,” Bobbie murmured, setting the bouquet of daisies and tulips in the holder set into the dirt. “I try not to think about what she might be doing. If she would have kept dancing, if she would gone into medicine like her daddy…”
Maxie bit her lip. BJ had been gone for more than twenty years. She had some vivid memories of her older cousin, but they were starting to get hazy. Maxie had only been six when she passed, after all.
Bobbie looked at Maxie then. “I worry about you.”
“Oh, Aunt Bobbie—” Maxie began, her throat thick with misery. “I’m so sorry—”
“No. Honey…” Bobbie stood and put a hand on her shoulder. “Your mom and I were speaking about you a few weeks ago—”
“I’m doing so much better,” Maxie interrupted. “I have this job, and Julian really loves my articles. He says I’m smart and my writing is sharp—” She closed her mouth. “I know you don’t care for him—”
“Maxie, take a deep breath.” Bobbie put both her hands on Maxie’s shoulders now. “I’m glad you enjoy the work you’re doing at the Sun. We’re all so proud of the way you’re throwing yourself into the work. We know you’ll get your daughter back. That’s not why I worry.”
“It’s not?” Maxie blinked. “Aunt Bobbie—”
“Your mom and I think you put too much pressure on yourself.” Bobbie’s smile was sad. “That you’re trying too hard because of BJ. And Georgie.”
Maxie huffed and looked away. “If I were trying hard, don’t you think I’d have more to show for it?” she demanded.
“When your uncle decided to give BJ’s heart to you, I was against it,” Bobbie admitted. “Not because I didn’t love you, but it meant I’d have to let her go. And I loved my BJ more than words—”
“I know, I have a daughter now and I can’t imagine making the sacrifice Uncle Tony did,” Maxie replied. “You were both so brave. So generous. And I understand—”
“You are precious to us all, Maxie. Not because we’ve lost BJ and Georgie,” Bobbie cut in. “Because we love you. And we want the best for you. Have you hit some bumps in the road? Yes. So what? At your age, I was still…” She hesitated. “I was still making choices I regret. I continued to make them long after I was a mother. Maturity and responsibility are not concepts you magically possess when you reach adulthood. You grow into them at your own pace.”
“I just—” Maxie bit her lip. “I’m here. And they’re not. I can’t let myself forget that.”
“Of course not. Every day you’re on this Earth is a gift, and you know that. Maybe you didn’t always believe you deserved to be here while they’re not, but you do. I love you, Maxie. Your uncle loved you. Your parents love you. Your sister loved you. BJ loved you. You have so much to offer. I just want to see you shine.”
Maxie nodded. “I promise, Aunt Bobbie. I’m going to.”
PCPD: Conference Room
Anna settled in front of Gia and opened the case file. “I think we’re close to issuing warrants for Ava and Sonny. We’ve made more headway on the matters you’ve asked for.”
“I know you were disappointed I didn’t want to go ahead with Carly’s statement, but…” Gia sighed and picked up her pen. “I want to have him nailed to the wall, Anna. Too many of my predecessors have tried and failed. I want him dead to rights.”
“I understand entirely. Carly’s statement is quite helpful, but it’s not quite corroborated enough. And she’s a difficult witness who has already offered more than one story. Sonny’s lawyer can attack her, impeach her credibility in a number of ways.” Anna pulled out a report. “I had Sly and Nathan look at Connie’s case as a cold case. They’ve spent the last week going over reports, re-interviewing some of the key people.”
“They’re leaning towards clearing AJ entirely.” Anna opened a folder with crime scene photos. “They concur with our original investigation that AJ Quartermaine was the best suspect in the beginning, but I’m ashamed to say there are several things we missed. First, we declined to investigate anyone else with access to the gun. If we had considered it, we might have thought about the initials AJ shared with Ava, and her access to the gun.”
“It’s easy to look at Ava in retrospect, knowing what we know now about her connection to Julian Jerome,” Gia told her.
“Yes, but we neglected to cover some of the basic steps. The missing security footage from Connie’s office? Considering how blackout drunk AJ was when Dante arrested him, I find it difficult to believe he was able to dispose of it so thoroughly, and yet he managed to shoot Connie, go to the security room, select the correct discs, and destroy them. Why not destroy those that had him entering and leaving the building?”
“Fair point. What about security footage at the Quartermaines? I recall them having ground cameras, particularly on the front door.” Gia made a note.
“We pulled it at the time, but never viewed it after AJ’s arrest.” Anna’s mouth twisted. “If we had, we might have seen this.”
She pushed some photos across the table.
Gia took them and swore under her breath. There it was in black and white. AJ and Ava entering the mansion just before midnight. Connie had been shot around ten-thirty. Ava was practically dragging AJ at this point.
Then photos of Ava leaving, just ten minutes later.
“They were together the night of Connie’s murder. A fact she neglected to mention, I’m sure.” Gia frowned, looking up. “It doesn’t prove anything—”
“If AJ remembered Ava’s presence, it might explain why he went to her,” Anna said. “I wish we had viewed the footage, but as we knew AJ had been in the hotel, it didn’t seem pertinent.”
“I have to say,” Gia said, slowly, “with no offense intended, this investigation was not quite up to the standard I would have expected. But I understand how short-handed you were. You’ve added three detectives in the last five months. With Dante being the nephew of the victim, I’m only sorry that I didn’t request a transfer earlier. You deserve a good DA, Anna, and enough staff to do the job right. This is not a reflection on you, but on those who tied your hands.”
“I appreciate that, Gia, but the buck stops with me. Anyhow, they’re inclined to clear AJ based on the missing security footage. No one but the murderer would have concerned themselves with it, and neither of them believed AJ would have had the capacity. He was twice the legal limit at the time he was booked, so I cannot imagine how drunk he must have been at the time of the incident.”
“I wouldn’t clear him quite yet, but I would move him down my list of suspects, and I would move Ava up based on this. Have you contacted the Metro Court as to records when Ava used her key fob?”
“We’re in the process of doing so. We contacted Olivia, who stated that security is top of the line since the hostage crisis several years ago. In order to reach any of the residential floors, you must use a specific key code. Ava was renting not one of the hotel suites, but one of the long-term leased rooms. It may take another few days, but we should be able to ascertain whether Ava was on the premises at that point soon.”
“I think Ava is our best bet. You’ve already established she was in her building and lying about her alibi. You’ve now established a connection to AJ based on Connie’s murder. At worst, she’s merely an eyewitness; at best, she’s an accomplice. Either way, we can leverage this information. We can place her at the scene of the crime, not Sonny.”
Gia closed her portfolio. “Nail down her movements the night of Connie’s murder, and we’ll pull her in for questioning. If she balks, I’ll sic a material witness order on her ass to force her to talk. If she continues to hold back, I’ll file murder charges. We’re not playing around with her.”
“And we’ll hold off on Sonny until we deal with Ava?” Anna questioned. “Don’t we run the risk he’ll flee the country?”
“Possibly,” Gia allowed. “But he hasn’t run yet. He’s arrogant, Anna, after all these years. He looks at me, I’m sure, and sees another woman he can charm. I wouldn’t be the first woman who’s come after him and ended up in his bed, he’d think. He’s cocky, Anna. He won’t run. The PCPD has never gone after him with a rock solid case. He thinks he can beat us.”
“Well.” Anna’s smile was sour. “Shall we prove him wrong?”
Ava and Julian’s Penthouse
Ava sipped her drink and studied her brother as he sat in the small breakfast nook, scribbling at something. “Don’t you have an office for this type of thing?” she demanded. “Or your girlfriend’s house? I thought you moved out.”
“I haven’t convinced Alexis yet.” Julian flashed her a smile.
God she wanted to twist off his face. Smug bastard. Thought he was in charge. He’d find out the truth soon.
They all would.
Julian set down his pen and leaned back. “You know, you’re not as devoted to me as you once were. I long for the early days when we found each other. You seemed so eager to be my sister. Changed your name to Jerome, embraced me. I liked you so much more than I did Olivia.”
“Well, I never met the woman, but the more time passes, the more I understand why she detested you so.” Ava drained the last of her sour cocktail and set the glass down at the bar. “All these months we’ve been here, and you’re more concerned with screwing your new lawyer or reconnecting with your long-lost children. You’ve lost focus.”
“Maybe.” Julian rose, ambled to the bar, and poured himself a brandy. “Maybe I’ve found it. I spent two decades in Witness Protection, Ava. For what? For power?”
She clenched her teeth, swallowing the growl that rose in her threat. Fucking men. “You don’t want it?”
“I wasted my life trying to get it.” Julian shrugged. “If I hadn’t been so concerned with what our father expected of me, maybe I would have looked Alexis up after that night. Sam’s life could have been different. I could have been part of Lucas’s life.”
Ava rolled her eyes and crossed the room. “Children drain you. They’re ungrateful.”
“You only say that because your daughter doesn’t give a damn about you.” Julian sipped his liquor. “Of course, lying to her about her father all those years wasn’t helpful. Have you heard from Lauren lately?”
Ava shot him a dark look. “She didn’t care about that particular lie. She appreciated not being known as a serial killer’s kid.”
“Oh, right.” Julian leaned in. “Maybe it was the part where you allowed her to think she had a connection to the Quartermaines. Allowed her to vote stocks. Oh, and when she blamed herself for AJ losing the company and killing Connie.” He paused. “No, wait, she blamed you.”
“Lauren will remember all the things I’ve sacrificed for her.” Ava tossed her hair back. “I did what was necessary. I have money, but Lauren could have had real power, real wealth as a Quartermaine. That’s what you do for your children, Julian. You offer them the best chance.”
“Whose best chance?” Julian countered. “Lauren never wanted any of that—”
“She’s a child.” Ava stalked away from him. “Go away, Julian. I’m bored with you.”
“You know the reason we haven’t moved forward, Ava.” Julian leaned against the bar. “Our backer hasn’t given us the go ahead. Has he even bothered to check in lately?”
“When I know something, you’ll know something.” She smiled at him, resisting the urge to bare her teeth at him. Insufferable.
“Well.” Julian finished his brandy, then gathered his papers. “I’m meeting Alexis for dinner.” He slid the papers in a case. “Don’t wait up,” he called over his shoulder.
Her cell phone chirped fifteen minutes later. She snatched it up and answered without looking. “What?”
“Now, now, Ava. Is that any way to speak to an old friend?”
“Friend?” Ava snarled. “Are you kidding—”
Greystone Manor: Living Room
“You turned me in?” Sonny demanded. He stalked towards Carly, who stood in the entry way, her chin lifted up, her expression defiant. “Again?”
“To be fair, you were guilty both times,” his ex-wife retorted. She huffed. “You’re acting like this is some kind of damn surprise, Sonny. The cops are five steps from your door—”
He turned away from her, already dismissing her in his mind. He would have to call his lawyer—neither Alexis nor Diane planned to defend him, but the lawyer he’d engaged for Duke might do.
He could spin this. Carly was a scorned ex, trying to please their estranged son. Michael was looking for anyone to blame for the tragedy. This wasn’t over.
AJ had needed to die. Sonny had done the world a favor. One day, Michael would see that.
He turned back to Carly. “What? What else could there possibly be?”
She glared at him, and he was surprised at the level of disgust, of hatred. “Every moment I lied to Michael, I hated you a little more. You broke his heart. You broke his faith, and because I lied to him for weeks, I lost his trust. And for what? Why?”
“AJ was scum. He deserved to die.” He turned away from those burning brown eyes. He couldn’t think about it, couldn’t let it sink in. He could turn this around. He could make this go away.
“Even if that were true,” Carly snarled, “what kind of people does that make us?” She closed her eyes. “What would Jason say if he could see us now? Michael was one of the most important people in his life, and we’ve destroyed him.”
“Jason’s not here.” Sonny reached for the bottle of bourbon and splashed some in a tumbler, ignoring the trembling in his hand. “He’s dead. He’s not coming back.” He tossed back the entire drink, then looked at her. “Why did you even come here?”
“To tell you I’m done with it.” She sliced her arm through the air. “I’m done with you and this life. It’s brought me nothing but pain, torment, and difficulties. I killed the only healthy relationship in my life because of you—”
Sonny snorted. “Candy boy? Hardly.”
“You poison everything you touch. Look around you, Sonny.” Carly gestured. “You’re alone in this house. You have no family who will bother with you, no woman who stays with you, no friends. You’ve driven us all away—”
“All you have left is your precious business and your freedom, but that’s almost gone now. You had it all once, Sonny.” Carly pointed at the windows. “Port Charles used to adore you and those dimples. You had the goodwill of this city because you were a good man at heart. But I can’t see it anymore, and neither can they.”
She turned at the doorway. “Enjoy these last few days, Sonny. We’re all done with you.”
General Hospital: Waiting Room
He knew the moment the neurosurgeon came through the door, followed by Kelly Lee. Their faces were stoic, their eyes blank.
He worked in this hospital. He’d worn those expressions.
He rose from his chair, sensing the other occupants in the room doing the same. Mac Scorpio was at Patrick’s side, his hand on Patrick’s shoulder.
He felt Elizabeth’s hand slip into his.
“I’m sorry,” the surgeon was saying. “The aneurysm ruptured…”
But his words were lost as Felix’s vision closed in around him. His knees dipped, but he didn’t fall. Elizabeth braced him, and he saw Mac’s wife, Felicia, at his other side.
“Our son?” Patrick’s voice faded in. “Is he all right?”
“We were able to save the baby,” Kelly told them. Felix blinked, tried to focus. This was important. This mattered.
He’d made a promise.
“He’s in the NICU,” she continued, “but he’s as healthy as can be expected. Patrick, Felix, I’m so sorry—”
“We did everything we could…”
That’s what they always said.
“I’m so sorry…”
Boat Launch on Cassadine Island
It was the first time Jason had been outside since he’d woken. The strong winds of the Aegean Sea made it difficult to hear as he followed his bodyguards down to the boat launch that would take him to mainland Greece. Dusk had fallen, allowing Jason to leave under the cover of night.
This time tomorrow, he would be back in the United States. In two days, he would be back in Port Charles.
Victor was waiting on the dock next to the boat, standing in his customary suit, one hand in the pocket of his trousers. “Ah, Mr. Morgan. Punctual as ever.”
Jason stood in front him, silent. He would not give this man any more ammunition. Not that he needed it—with Elizabeth in his crosshairs and Robin held hostage in the lab where she’d already spent the better part of a year under another man’s orders, Victor Cassadine held all the cards.
And smiled like a man who knew it.
“Now, I’ve arranged for those accounts we discussed—set up in a false name to allow you to lay under the radar for some time. A car will be waiting for you at LaGuardia to make the drive to Port Charles.” Victor nodded to the boat. “All the necessary paperwork to travel on the boat.” He waited a beat, but Jason continued to remain silent. “I’ll be in touch when it’s necessary, but you have your basic instructions.”
Jason arched a brow. “Go back. Say nothing until Sonny has a preliminary hearing for murder charges he hasn’t been arrested for yet, then take over his business.”
“Oh, those charges will be along shortly.” Victor smirked. “I should have faked your death initially rather than replacing you. He unraveled quite beautifully without even the pretense of you to bolster him.”
The bastard was practically dripping glee over Sonny’s misery. Jason narrowed his eyes. “Is this some sort of personal revenge against Sonny? You destroyed my life for that?”
“Oh.” Victor sobered slightly “Oh, no. Revenge is so petty. This is merely business.” He lifted a shoulder. “However, no one ever said I couldn’t enjoy it.”
If he stayed in this place one more moment, Victor Cassadine would be in the goddamn water. “Can I go?” Jason demanded.
“By all means.” Victor gestured to the boat. “I hope Ms. Webber will be pleased with her surprise.”
Jason boarded the boat, ignoring the last jabbing reminder that Victor knew about her.
He had his freedom.
Drowning Victor Cassadine could wait for another day.
PCPD: Commissioner’s Office
Anna frowned at the paper in front of her, then looked back up at Parisa. “Is it really necessary to file charges on this?”
“I tried to talk the guy out of it,” her detective responded with a shrug. “The mom offered to pay for the repairs to the car, but the car owner was adamant. Apparently, this isn’t the first car the kid’s scratched in the neighborhood.”
“Fair enough.” Anna set it aside. “You can sign out—”
“Commissioner?” Sly knocked on the open door. “The guy at the desk gave me this.” He strode in, flashed a smile at Parisa, and set a brown package on her desk. “Oh, and Ava Jerome wants to speak with you.”
“Ava?” Anna lifted her brow. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that.” She glanced down at the package. “Set her up in the interrogation room and have her read her rights. Just to be on the safe side.”
Sly exited as Anna sliced open the parcel and drew out a set of discs with a post-it attached.
Parisa leaned over. “What does it say?”
“I thought you might find the contents of this security footage interesting,” Anna read. She pursed her lips and flipped the disc over. “Hmmm…I wonder what’s on these.”