(Author's Note: Thank You for all of the comments. I'm really enjoying this fic. It is a bit short this chapter, but hope you enjoy. For the purposes of this story, Molly is unaware of Alexis' Cassidine past. She knows that Stefan Cassidine was her uncle and that Nicholas was her cousin, but the rest of the family is a mystery, one which she will reveal page by page.)
Chapter 2
Maxie Jones slipped within the narrow space, the opening closing behind her, enveloping her in darkness. The air smelled musty and damp; its dirt walls cold beneath the palms of her hands.
She reached into her bag and pulled out her keys, pushing on the button of the mini flashlight.
Nothing.
Her mind became flooded with stories. Memories of the conversations her father shared when she was young. His jaunts with Robert Scorpio and Sean Donnelly and the mysterious Catacombs of Spoon Island.
She clutched her chest, her imagination conjuring up all the tales her father had told her and the ghosts that haunted these walls.
"Cassidine curses. Ridiculous," Maxie shouted out loud, "I'm a Jones. Maxie Jones."
Sounds echoed along the walls, the shuffling of feet up ahead.
"Hello. Is someone there? Dr. Keenan?"
Wrapping her arms around her bare shoulders, she moved closer to the sound, further down the tunnel, as her pulse beat faster.
"This isn't funny. I can hear you," Maxie voiced, irritated at the lack of response.
"Where the hell is the light switch?"
"I'm armed," she shouted into the darkness dropping her arms and clutching her mini flashlight, wielding it like a weapon.
Something skittered across her foot and she shook it, cringing, as her whole body reacted, her hands frantically brushing her shoulders like a thousand spiders had suddenly dropped upon her.
"There is nothing here," Maxie whispered to herself, once again using the dirt wall for support, as she continued down the darkened tunnel. She could smell the fresh air, faint, the tiniest of light up ahead. Her eyes squinted in the dark, as she inched forward, another sound emerging from the blackness toward the right.
Where the hell was Spinelli when she needed him.
Her hand touched lightly against something on the wall, goosebumps erupting upon her skin, as out of nowhere a hand reached from behind, the swish of a match breaking the silence and light exploding within the catacombs.
"Do you make a habit out of following people, Ms. Jones?" Dr. Keenan asked her, shoving a folded piece of paper within his jacket. His blond hair and light-colored eyes cast an eerie glow beneath the light of the torch.
"Only when someone has something to hide," Maxie fired back, her frightened pulse slowing down, as she folded her arms against her chest and raised an eyebrow, "Besides, I know these Catacombs like the back of my hand. My sister and I used to play in them," Maxie lied, pointing her hand down a corridor to the right, where she had spied a bit of light a few minutes earlier.
"The way out, Ms. Jones," Dr. Keenan told her, reaching for her hand and directing it to the left, "is that way."
"No, Dr. Keenan," Maxie stated, a bit firmly, "it is this way," she insisted, pulling him toward the right, further down the tunnel and toward her exit, "I heard something there."
"Chasing ghosts, Nancy Drew?" Dr. Keenan told her, grinning.
"How long have you lived here? Five minutes?" Maxie answered sarcastically, peering at the walls around her, "What are you doing at Wyndemere anyway? Do you even know the history of this place?"
"The Cassidines? Nothing more than Greek fables. The dock is that way," Dr. Keenan told her, "A path will take you up to the grounds," he told her, his expression cold and empty, "a few feet within your tunnel is a large hole in the middle of the floor. I came upon it once while exploring this place. Dropped a stone into that dark place, but never did hear it land. But, if-"
"You're right. Left it is," Maxie replied, looking down at the leopard print fabric of her L.A.M.B pounce heels and cringing.
"Ruined," Maxie uttered in disgust, staring back up at Dr. Keenan, "You owe me a pair of shoes."
"Next time, pay attention before you go where you don't belong, Ms. Jones," Dr. Keenan informed her, one hand reaching inside his jacket and resting upon the map, while the other lay upon her back. His ears picked up the shuffle of feet, and he paused, turning, as something in the shadows moved. His eyes blinked for just a moment, opening once again, but the ghostly face had disappeared within.
"Where did you find that?" Alexis Davis asked her daughter, Molly, a strange expression on her face.
"Do you know who is in the photograph with Uncle Stefan?" Molly inquired again, as Alexis reached for the book, closing it.
"Some things are best left in the past, Molly," Alexis informed her, taking the rest of Molly's books and placing them back on the bookshelf behind them.
"Maybe he is Uncle Stefan's long-lost brother, a Cassidine exiled to some remote island. Or, he could be the son he never wanted Helena to know about. Do you think that Uncle Stefan hid him?"
"What I think, Molly, is that you have been spending way too much time fantasizing about the Cassidines. They are not the romantic tale you make them out to be."
"I found a letter," Molly told her mother, reaching into her book bag at the base of the chair and handing it to Alexis, "It is from Uncle Stefan to someone named Natasha."
"Natasha Davidovich," Alexis answered, peering down at the hand-written letter, the familiar script beckoning her toward the page, "She was your Uncle Stefan's half-sister."
"Did you know her?" Molly asked, her hands brushing against the spines of the books, reluctant to leave them upon the shelf.
"I did," Alexis answered, drawing Molly away from the shelves and toward the foyer, "How much have you read about Natasha?" Alexis asked her daughter.
"I know that her mother was an opera singer." Molly informed her, as her eyes glossed over and she romanticized about the life that Kristen Burgman led, "It said that she was murdered."
"Yes, she was, Molly," Alexis stated, directing Molly toward the docks. She turned and faced Wyndemere, a shiver running down her spine, as years of memories flooded her mind.
"She was an amazing woman. Beautiful. She used to sing to me and Kristina," Alexis shared, her eyes misting as she thought of her baby sister.
"Kristina?" Molly questioned, her inquisitive eyes growing large, as she found herself entangled within a web of mystery and romance.
"She was my younger sister."
"You're Natasha? What happened to Kristina?" Molly asked, watching her mother's face and seeing the sadness.
"She died. Long before you were born. She would have loved you," Alexis noted, "You two are very much alike. She didn't have dark hair like yours, but she had this way of romanticizing about life, much like you. She didn't know who I was, your Uncle Stefan, or any of the Cassidines. She was found when she was just a baby. Adopted."
"Mom," Molly asked, placing her hand on her mother's arm and causing her to turn toward her, "It was Helena, wasn't it? She murdered my grandmother."
Damien Spinelli, aka one-half of the PI office Jackal and McCall, sat behind his desk, his legs draped across it, as he reclined back in his chair, deeply engrossed with the latest Alex Cross adventure.
The protagonist, Alex Cross, has just been assigned to a human trafficking case. The antagonist "Wolf" kidnapping politician's wives and college students from the streets of DC.
Spinelli leaned closer, his eyes glued to the page as the FBI, Secret Service and NYPD zeroed in on the mad man, with the help of the Russian government. He was about to turn the page when several knocks broke the silence, startling him, as his feet fell to the floor, his book alongside them.
"Just a minute," Spinelli shouted, placing the book on a nearby filing cabinet and straightening the files on his desk. Empty files.
Fact is he hadn't had a case since Sam McCall went on maternity leave. This could be his first big case without her.
Spinelli practically leaped toward the door, pulling it open, as he announced, "Jackal and McCall, how can I help you? Molly?"
"I need to hire your services, Spinelli," Molly answered, thrusting her hand out and presenting a ten-dollar bill.
"Come in," Spinelli replied, opening the door wider and proceeding Molly into his office, "Is it Alexis? Kristina?"
"I want you to find Helena Cassidine."
Lulu Spencer adjusted her blue sweater dress, sitting upon the bed, as she pulled on her black leather boots.
"Leaving so soon," Dante said softly, pulling her backward, his arms wrapped around her.
"I promised Spinelli I'd be there by 9am," Lulu told him, turning in his arms and kissing him on the lips.
"It's only 8:30," Dante reminded her, attempting to remove the dress, his hands inching the fabric upward.
"Dante!" Lulu laughed, forcing his hands to the bed, as she moved out of his reach, "I have to go to work. You should try it."
"Spoilsport," Dante remarked, grinning, as his eyes canvassed Lulu from the top of her head to the black boots that encased her feet.
"I am going to fantasize about you in those boots all morning," Dante sulked, reaching for her hand and pulling her towards him.
Lulu leaned in closer, her lips mere centimeters from Dante's, "If you pick up cheese fries from Kelly's tonight, I'll model them for you."
"Promise," Dante replied, smiling, as his hand reached behind her head and gently pulled her closer, placing a kiss upon her lips.
"Just the boots, Dante," Lulu grinned, turning, as Dante swatted her behind. He leaned back against his pillow, closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them a frown upon his face, "Hey, that's over eight hours from now."
Thirty minutes later, Spinelli was engrossed in a different book, his eyes scanning the notes he had taken, his pulse quickening as he thought of the adventures ahead.
"Come in," he announced, as another knock interrupted his thoughts, a grin spreading upon his face, as Lulu entered.
"Original Blonde One," Spinelli smiled, standing and directing her to a cleared off desk in the corner, "I cannot tell you how excited I was when the Fair Samantha, told me the great news. This is going to be so much fun."
"I don't know, Spinelli," Lulu replied, starting to have misgivings, "maybe this wasn't such a great idea."
"What? No, this is going to be great, Lulu. We even have a case," Spinelli told her, a smile spreading upon his face.
"Case? What case?" Lulu asked, intrigued as she took a seat, crossing her legs, while Spinelli plopped into his chair behind the desk.
"Murder."