Ava poured her third martini, plumping a green olive in it watching it sink slowly to the bottom. She brought it up to eye level, scrutinized the harmony between two of her favorite forms of substance engaged in their usual mating dance.
Both eager for her approval because it was all for her. She nodded in satisfaction. She was the queen of her universe but the universe had been disturbed recently by the tragic death of Avery's baby daddy. Their bodies had collided more than they had melded. A frantic mating in front of an audience of dead Quartermaines etched into the walls of their most hallowed ground. Outside of the Q boardroom of course and in the process, they had conceived the most perfect child in all of history.
A child not born of love but something darker than that. The opposite of that coin but the universe watched and became enthralled at what happened within its midst.
It's not like they did hate sex in PC anymore.
She downed the martini in a single swallow, the liquid massaging her throat. Leaving the bereft olive in the glass living on borrowed time. It's purpose in life fulfilled.
Her brother arched his brow and she sighed dramatically.
"Really big brother, it's been one of the most difficult of times, what with Avery left fatherless and that she beast refuses to let me see her."
Julian shrugged.
"That man threatened to kill you and he's tried to kill me more than once."
"Well it seems that the universe solved your problem even as it robbed little Ava of her daddy."
Julian frowned for a moment pursing his lips.
"If the universe sent an assassin it wasn't that is where this is leading."
Ava put her martini glass down. She would wait for her dear if overprotective was gone before she'd finish the bottle.
"Really do tell…"
"Whoever did it and I'm not saying I know who. It wasn't one of the usual suspects."
Commissioner Jordan flipped open a file on the open homicide investigation into Michael Sonny Corinthos. Her heart aching for such a tragic loss. An act of violence that had ripped a huge hole in the canvas of PC. Nathan stood beside her looking very pretty but had little to say being a man of few words.
He was still waiting to clear his first case and it had been years.
"Commish it's clearly not accidental. I talked to the car manufacturer and no recent history of exploding engine parts. It could have been a short circuit in the gas tank…"
Jordan rolled her eyes.
"Of course it's murder. It's an assasination, against one of the greatest philamprothist in history. We must solve it."
Nathan seemed less sure.
"If Sonny was so beloved, who would want to take him out?
Jordan rolled her eyes again. If only Mayor Laura Collins could see what she had to work with in this pitiful department in a town where if it weren't for...she fought to squeeze one tear out of her eyes then shook her head with resolve. Sonny wouldn't want his commissioner to cry copious tears over his loss. He would want her to solve the crime, to find who had snuffed out his powerful life force and brought darkness to Pt. Charles.
She sighed.
"With someone so beloved, there's no shortage of people who could have committed this heinous crime. It could have been…"
A random thought, the snapshot of a suspect hit her. She shook her head almost immediately. No it couldn't be that person. Yes, there had been some killings linked to him in the past but he had changed, yes he had really changed.
His name was in the rolodex she had of every denizen of PC that fit that profile but this man had a special gold star next to it. She placed her hand over her heart, shielded by her badge.
"Commissioner Ashton?"
She looked up and blinked her eyes at the man standing in front of her. He'd grown a beard and his hair was lighter. Not to mention he was a couple inches shorter. He wore a little golden cross around his neck.
"You're not Nathan. Who the hell are you and what happened to him?"
At that moment an explosion rocked the building.
Carly rubbed a melting ice cube across the tanned chest bringing the nipples of the man lying next to her to attention. He snored quietly next to her as she felt a gentle breeze of his exhalations caress her own skin.
She rubbed her navel with the palm of a hand, marveling at the act of conception that certainly had taken place. A miracle of nature, the outcome of perfect timing plus an infusion of a remnant of Sonny.
During the entire act, she had held a charred piece of the lift in Sonny's right shoe in her hand. It would not shame his memory for her to do so. He was a giant among men in other ways.
"Blessed be the fruit of thy womb, the spirit of thy body," she whispered, her eyelids shut in deep contentment.
Across the room the lithe brunette dressed in black sat dumbly watching her Jason lying asleep next to Carly. Not the imposter that had haunted her life so briefly before being exposed as a fake by the same crowd that had proclaimed him the one who had returned from the depths of the harbor for her. Just her and no one else. Not Sonny. Not Carly. Not Michael. Not Morgan. Not his leather jacket, his motorcycle, his box of pain, his…
A spike of pain hit her suddenly at the reminder she should have known he was not Jason but a carbon look alike.
"Under his eye," Sam mumbled, knowing somewhere Sonny was watching.
But who was waiting?
Monica thought about just killing the fishwife already but instead she seethed as she swept up the last remaining shards of crystal that had gone to smithereens with the rest of the collection.
She looked at them then carefully placed them in a jeweled box that was then tucked away in the special crevice in the rubble of the fireplace that still stood amid the ruins.
Alan had given her this crystal vase, in between attempts to kill her back in the earlier days of their marriage.
Another round of wails reverberated through the shell of the mansion.
Oliva Fuckinari.
Monica closed her eyes, sighing deeply. If that bitch didn't shut up….
"Dr. Quartermaine,"
She looked up and saw Finn McBain, MD come up to her with a clipboard in his hand.
"What are you doing here? Is there any news on why Ned is dead? Oh wait...you're not a cop anymore. I just don't know who would do such a thing...outside the family."
Finn pursed his lips.
"I see. I don't have any information on Ned. I'm here to talk to Mrs. Falconari."
Monica waved her hand.
"Oh don't bother with her. Low life trash. Wouldn't shock me if some mobster level trash tried to take her out and Ned was killed just instead."
"So you think it could have been a hit. Something in connection with the tragic murder of Sonny Corinthoes?"
Monica shrugged.
"Maybe. I don't know. I just don't see anyone wanting to harm Ned. He's so…"
Finn waited for her to finish but she seemed lost in thought or a memory.
"Okay so maybe it was a business rival of his...Were any mergers taking place, corporate raiding?"
Monica shook her head.
"Ned's not really into that. He's kind of a disappointment to his grandfather taking up with that gutter…"
Finn held up his hand.
"Okay so...well this has been so helpful."
He took out a whistle and blew it. Within seconds, a harried looking brunette woman joined him, out of breath.
"What is it Finn? Do you have anything for me to do?"
Finn paused for a moment, eying Monica who seemed to be gazing into the remnants of the fireplace.
"Sure Anna, why don't you fetch me a pen?"
She looked at the man in front of her and laughed deep in her throat.
"I don't know what you're talking about Jerry, " she said, "By the way you're looking...well. Better than the last time we crossed paths."
He smirked, fingering the rim of the bourbon a harried waiter had dropped in front of him.
"Don't change the subject darling...You've left a trail of dead bodies and I am impressed. Looks like our time together rubbed off."
She sipped her drink, cursing its lack of kick.
"Don't flatter yourself. You tried to kill my girls...and tied me to your boat to sail off into the sunset…"
He chuckled.
"So this is how you respond? By killing people who have graced your bed? I know some of them probably couldn't satisfy you like myself but…"
She tilted her head in reproach.
"Really Jerry, no new material? Has the well run dry...among other things?"
He rubbed his index fingers together, slowly.
"Nothing about me is dry...darling. You know that...but why the killing spree?"
She looked at him long and hard, before gesturing the waiter over to bring her the vodka
"Why not?"