Chapter Six


I took Patrick dancing tonight. I think I shocked him – he didn't think serious Dr. Scorpio liked to let loose. When I told him I had been a dancer nearly all my life and had briefly considered pursuing it professionally he nearly spit out his drink. I had taken him to The Kells for 80's night. We did a few shots, sang along with the band and danced to Men in Hats. By the end of the night we could hardly keep our hands off each other.



"I know where Robin is."

Anna pulled Sean in and hugged him tight. "Sean, when I called you I didn't mean for you to drop everything and fly out here."

"Anna, this is my goddaughter we're talking about. I'm not going to leave her out there if she's in trouble."

Anna closed the door behind him and ushered him in. "Come on in. Let me introduce you to everyone. You remember my nephew, Aidan?"

"Of course. Good to see you again."

"You too Sean."

"This young man standing behind the door ready to pounce is Patrick Drake." She looked at Sean pointedly. "Robin's Patrick."

"Ah yes. The doctor," Sean said, stepping forward. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"You too." 'Finally meet me? Just who the hell is this guy?' Patrick wondered. He could feel his chest tighten. Robin had obviously shared their – whatever this was – with the people in her life she was closest to. He had shared with, well, no one.

"And this is Noah Drake. Noah, this is Sean Donely, an old WSB colleague, and a close family friend. Back in the day Robert, Sean and I were like the Three Musketeers. We were an amazing team."

Noah smiled and shook Sean's hand. "You still in the business Sean?"

"I guess you could say I'm more of a consultant now."

Anna led everyone back into the dining room. "So, what did you find?"

Sean pulled out a large manila envelope and dropped it on the table. "She's fine, Anna. It looks like she may have taken a little vacation."

Patrick could feel his blood start to boil. "Vacation? Are you kidding me?" Patrick couldn't believe what he was hearing. Clearly the man was insane.

"Patrick." Noah moved toward his son, and Patrick held up a hand to keep him at bay.

"No, Dad. I want to know how this guy can possibly come up with 'Robin's on vacation' as a conclusion. No offense, but you've been away from this spy business for what? Ten, fifteen years? You say you're a consultant now. Isn't that just a fancy word for retired? I've seen Super Spy Robert Scorpio in action lately and it's not very impressive. For god's sake, a few months back he let a teenager knock him unconscious three times. So, forgive me if I don't just buy your conclusion that Robin decided to go hang out by a pool and get a tan. It's ridiculous."

"Listen son. I've been doing this a long time - "

"Robin wouldn't just leave. And she certainly wouldn't leave without telling anyone where she was going."

"Patrick, stop." Anna moved towards him. The two men glared at each other, neither backing down.

"No Anna, it's ok." Sean crossed his arms in front of him. "You think my investigative skills are waning? My perception is off? Do you, Patrick Joseph Drake? Born March 5, 1978 at Mount Sinai Hospital to Noah Joseph Drake, born August 23, 1950 and Madeline Lee Drake, born June 4, 1953, died October 31, 1996."

"Just what the hell –" Noah stepped forward, eyes blazing.

Sean kept talking, his concentration focused on Patrick. "You did your undergraduate studies at Columbia, then attended Harvard Medical School. You were an excellent student, with the exception of that one semester sophomore year. English lit was not kind to you, was it Patrick? You got a 'C' I believe." Sean laughed and walked around Patrick, who was standing glued to the spot, hands on his hips. Sean stopped in front of him so he could stare him in the eyes. "I haven't even gotten to your extracurricular activities yet. Should we talk about Sophie from your first year of residency?"

"You had my son investigated?"

Patrick stared back at him silently as Sean continued. "I've taken a bullet for that girl, Dr. Drake. I would never let anything happen to her. Can you say the same thing?"

"Don't you dare suggest that my son doesn't care about Robin," Noah started to lunge for Sean but before he could reach him, Aidan had grabbed his elbow and Anna ran between them.

"Stop it, Sean. That's enough. We're on the same side here. Patrick, I can assure you, Sean is perfectly competent, and Sean, everyone here has Robin's best interests at hand. Now can we cut the macho crap and remember what's important? We need to find my daughter. Everyone, sit down."

Patrick's head dipped down and he swallowed hard and nodded then walked silently to the dining room table. Noah followed with his hand on Patrick's shoulder while glaring at Sean.

Anna opened the envelope and dumped the contents out. As she sifted through the pieces of paper, Sean pulled out a small pad from his jacket and flipped it open. "Robin was spotted at the American Airlines counter at the Manchester International Airport in New Hampshire at 6:44am on Tuesday. My contacts confirmed there was a passenger named Robin Cates on Flight 395 to Toronto."

"Cates?" Noah looked from Anna to Patrick, confused.

Patrick stood up and walked over to the doorway, his back to the rest of the group. The name Cates caused his jaw to tense and he was sickened by the reaction. Patrick Drake didn't compete for women. If they weren't interested – and really, when did that happen – he moved on to the next lucky girl. He traced the door fame with his long fingers and sighed. It was hard to compete with a ghost. "Stone, Dad," Patrick whispered. "Stone Cates."

Clearing his throat, Sean continued. "She's also used her debit and credit cards."

Anna picked up a pile of receipts and read them. "She used her credit card to purchase a new pair of sunglasses at a CVS in Derry, New Hampshire on Monday, and charged a room at the Wayfarer Inn in Bedford that night. Then on Tuesday she bought an Aquafina and a Nestle Crunch at the airport, and a non-fat latte, blueberry scone and NY Times from a Starbucks in Toronto. She used an ATM later that afternoon at a Scotia Bank on Yonge Street in Toronto."

Sean threw a picture onto the pile. "She doesn't look to be in any distress here."

Patrick picked up the photo and stared at it. It was distorted, a fisheye view. Obviously a photo taken at the ATM of Robin, hair in a ponytail, ballcap in place. And a small smile on her lips. He passed it over to Anna. "This doesn't prove that she's left on her own. There could be someone off camera forcing her to take out money."

Anna nodded. "I have to agree Sean. We need to send someone up there to check on her. Do your contacts know where she's staying? Is she still in Toronto?"

"I've got a picture of her taken from a security camera at a Banana Republic about a block away from the ATM." Sean threw down another picture of Robin holding a pair of pants at the cash register. "Unfortunately the trail ends there. I've asked to have a couple of local agents keep an eye out for her. But Anna, I really think there's nothing to – "

"Noah, were you able to get a hold of Luke?" Anna ignored Sean's train of thought.

"Anna-"

"No, Sean. I appreciate what you've done, but you have got to know as well as I do that Robin wouldn't just leave Port Charles and not tell anyone where she was going. And she certainly wouldn't drive her car to New Hampshire, abandon it, and then fly to Toronto so she could buy a pair of pants." She looked at Noah. "Did you find him? Has he heard from Robert?"

Noah looked at her softly. "No. I checked with Bobbie, and she hasn't seen her brother either. She thinks he and Tracy left for Amsterdam yesterday. They're taking a second honeymoon."

"Anna, I've spoken with Robert."

Anna's head swiveled in Sean's direction. "You have? Where the hell is he? Does he know we can't find our daughter?"

"Relax. He was called on assignment by the MRA. I've updated him on what we've found and I told him I would call him if things changed. In the meantime, I told him not to worry. I'm telling you too Anna. Don't worry. Robin is fine." The tension between the two old friends was cut short when Sean's phone rang. He looked at the display. "It's Tiffany. I should take this and let her know what we've found. Excuse me." With that, Sean walked out of the dining room and the room exploded with discussion.

"Who the hell does this guy think he is?"

"Why is he insisting-"

"He had my son investigated, Anna. What kind of friend is this?"

"Enough!" Anna yelled, jumping up from the table. "He's just trying to help, and he has some significant contacts inside the WSB. We need to keep those contacts searching. I don't believe Robin's left of her own accord either." She looked at Patrick. "She wouldn't do that. We all know it. Sean's just blinded by what he sees as the facts in the case. We'll get to the bottom of it."

Patrick broke Anna's gaze. What the hell was he doing here? It wasn't like he and Robin had been together that long. He should just cut his losses, and get the hell out, because he sure as hell didn't need this. He'd been questioned by the police, the FBI, and now a WSB agent had done a thorough background check on him and was convinced that Robin was out on a shopping spree. Maybe he should just believe the old geezer. Move on with his life. Accept that Robin had left, and get back to his own life. But he couldn't just let her go. He had a feeling he couldn't shake; Robin was in trouble.


Patrick fell, exhausted, against her front door and heard it click shut, tossing her key on the credenza. He'd had enough detective work for one day. Another day over and they were no closer to finding Robin than they had been 2 days ago. They'd had a few more go-rounds once Sean had gotten off the phone, but didn't have any credible leads. Patrick had brought up the fact that it was odd that they hadn't heard from Brenda yet, and Aidan agreed to make some calls to check on her. Around midnight Noah had insisted that they all try to get some sleep and meet again the next morning. Without even thinking, Patrick had headed here. He couldn't explain what he was doing back at Robin's apartment when he had a perfectly good hotel room waiting for him at the Metro Court. He just felt like he needed to be near her, and this was the only way he could think to do it. Pushing himself away from the door, he walked over to her answering machine and pressed play, just wanting to hear her voice. He needed to hear her voice. "Hi it's Robin and I'm not here. You know what to do." The beep sounded and then silence; the only sound the rewinding of the answering machine tape. Hands on his hips, Patrick licked his bottom lip and looked at his feet. It was too damn quiet. Looking around the room, his eyes settled on Robin's stereo. He didn't care what was in her CD player, he just needed something to make some noise. Pressing play, he turned and walked away, heading towards her bedroom. Maybe he would read another entry in her journal.

Jessie is a friend…

Patrick stopped in his tracks, turning to stare at the stereo.

Yeah I know he's been a good friend of mine…

Patrick smiled. The Kells. Robin had taken him out about two months ago. Wanted to take him dancing, so they went to this old Irish Pub where it was 80's night. He remembered the night clearly. It was the night that he realized that this wasn't just sex between them, that there were real feelings screwing things up. Screwing him up.

But lately something's changed that ain't hard to define…

"Oh my God. I love this song!" Robin grabbed his hands and pulled him off his barstool. "We have to dance!" She dragged him off to the dance floor.

"I didn't have you pegged as a closet Rick Springfield fan."

"Oh, I'm not closeted. I am a full fledged, fan club card toting fan.

"You know, my mom used to think my dad looked like him."

"Really?" Robin looked off in the distance thinking. "Hmmm. Yeah, I don't see it."

"Neither did me and my dad. But it made Mom happy, so we let her go with it." Robin's arms curled up, around his neck and they swayed together to the music, his hands running down her back. "All that wiggling is driving me crazy," he groaned into her hair.

"That's not wiggling, that's dancing." So saying she pressed herself against him and wiggled.

"Tease," he accused, saliva pooling in his mouth. She looked up at him and smiled a wicked smile. "What's that look for?"

"I need to have you. Now."

A slow smile started to play over his lips. "Right now? On the dance floor? You really like Rick Springfield don't you?"

"Shut up." She hooked her finger into the belt loop on his jeans and pulled him off the floor, towards the restroom.

"What are you doing, Scorpio?"

"Wait here." She ran into the ladies room and he leaned against the wall next to the doorway and crossed his arms. Suddenly an arm shot out from the door and pulled him inside. She slammed him against the closing door and kissed him urgently. Without breaking the kiss she twirled him around and pushed him into a waiting stall.

Patrick came up for air, his eyes glazed over, both hands fisting her hair. "Well, Dr. Scorpio."

"Stop talking, Dr. Drake," Robin smiled. Patrick pulled her head to his and kissed her. Robin unzipped his jeans and from seemingly nowhere pulled out a condom and slid it over his length. He stood stunned and in lust as she pulled off her panties, smiled wider and then jumped up, scissored her legs around his waist and guided him inside her. The feel of him entering her caused her to gasp and she opened her eyes, looking into his. His hands grasped her bare ass under her skirt and they moved together slowly, deeply, never losing eye contact, when suddenly he grabbed one of her hands and laced her fingers with his.

He felt the storm rising inside her as the legs wrapped around him began to tremble and then she let go, arching against him. He buried himself deeper inside of her and lost himself. When he came to they were slumped back against the wall breathing heavily, their sweat and arousal pungent in the air around them. That's when he knew it wasn't just sex.

Where can I find a woman like that…

Patrick looked around Robin's living room. After that he had run, from her and his own feelings. But she couldn't have. She didn't take off on her own. She wouldn't just leave him. She wouldn't.

TBC