"Cassidy." Harper reached out to grab the newest undercover officer as the younger man passed him in the hall. "You got a minute?"
Evan stopped so fast, he almost tripped over his feet. To say Harper intimidated him would have been a gross understatement. He didn't know what the guy did after work, only knew his name and face by reputation. Some of the other guys were jealous because he had gone after the scum of Port Charles and come back with them in handcuffs, had succeeded where they had failed. Others were scared of him. Evan considered himself somewhere in the middle. "I guess."
"Good." Harper motioned for the young officer to follow him down the hall to a small office and ushered him inside. There was no reason for the rest of the squad to hear about his latest assignment. No need to embarrass Cassidy with the fact he had been demoted to babysitter. Making sure the door was securely shut behind them Harper took a seat in one of the two chairs sitting in the small room. "Catch me up on the PCU investigation."
Evan inwardly groaned. He had almost made it an entire afternoon without being reminded of Lulu Spencer. He had been content with hiding at his desk or even in the nastiest club just as long as he didn't have to have another run-in with her. "From what I can tell, the operation is being run by a man named Vermin. I haven't been able to figure out what his real name is, but I've been digging, checking with a few of my contacts. He doesn't have a preference: he'll deal to anyone with cash. My estimate would be sixteen and older being that they have the most available cash at hand and, if in a jam, he can pass them off as a lot older." Evan rubbed his eyes wearily. "Baldwin left some useful information for us." Any other time such a statement might have been considered a joke, but not now. Scott Baldwin had been the original undercover for the case, but when he was branded as a cop, he was killed. His body had been mailed to his daughter in Pennsylvania.
Harper nodded slowly. He'd pull the case file later on today to go over it with Samantha. If he could ever get her to answer her damn phone today. He had already left her close to ten messages over the course of the day and she had yet to return even one. "You get close to anyone? Anyone I need to keep clear of?"
"Derek Underwood." Evan pulled a snapshot of the recurring "bouncer" and handed it to Harper. "He doesn't belong to any one club. He follows Vermin. Watch out for him. He's a big s.o.b."
"Got it. Mean ugly and only good with a gun." Harper nodded. "I bet he confuses sexual harassment with flirting."
Evan managed a weak smile. "I doubt he can spell it, but it's definitely his style. So far he's only gone after three women and they all had the good sense to scream. There could be more. I'll look into that too."
"Do that. If we can't get to Vermin directly, we might be able to flip this s.o.b. by hemming him up on some sexual assaults." Harper smiled slowly. "There's probably no need to explain to him Alexis Davis set a strict 'no deals for sexual predators' policy."
"I wouldn't mind beating his face in and explaining it to him." Evan added.
"If you're right, I'll join you." Harper kept a long stare on Cassidy, trying to size the man up. He looked young, but there was no way Mac would have even put him on this case if he wasn't the best. "I understand you'll be sticking around the campus?"
"Yeah. Apparently I can pass for a student." Evan's tone said that he thought the idea was ridiculous. "And I have one of those faces that makes you want to talk to me." Unless you're Lulu Spencer. If she told Vermin who he was, he was going to be no better off than Baldwin.
"Good. I can pass for a lot, but I'm a long way from eighteen." He paused, attempting to judge how much of the information he was about to share, if he could really trust Cassidy. If the man was going to continue to be near the investigation, it was for everyone's benefit if he didn't attempt to arrest Samantha when the bust went down. "Can I trust you?"
"Yes." Evan answered carefully. "Why do you ask?"
"My methods aren't exactly approved by the commissioner."
Evan's brows lifted. "What exactly does that mean?"
"I have assistance. A civilian. She does good work, but she prefers to not be acknowledged for her contributions." Alright, he preferred she not be acknowledged. It made it a hell of a lot easier to protect her if the criminal element didn't know exactly who she was.
"I don't feel comfortable risking a civilian because you can't follow procedure." Evan informed him.
"Believe me she is well aware of the risks. I take more risks making sure she's safe than anything. Much to her dismay." Harper chuckled.
"Why do you bring her up?" Evan decided to play dumb. It was amazing how much information he could obtain simply by playing rookie cop.
Harper shot him a skeptical look. "You aren't that stupid, Cassidy. She'll be around. The last thing we need is for her to blow everything by trying to nail you along with everyone else."
"You're worried about me blowing the investigation?" Evan snapped. "If your girlfriend can't play cops like the rest of us, I'd rather she not be involved."
"She's not my girlfriend and believe me you want her around. Samantha will find out more information from all the players than both of us combined."
"I want to meet her, make sure she doesn't blow this case for me."
"You will." Harper nodded. "I gave her your description. She'll approach you."
"Oh goodie." Evan rolled his eyes. The last thing he wanted was a casualty rate.
"Hey if you have a problem with a beautiful woman talking to you..."
Evan didn't care how beautiful she was. This was Harper as a nice guy. He didn't want to tip the scales. "When and where? Or do I get to know?"
"I'll call you." Harper glanced at his cell phone once again. Still no calls from her. It wasn't like her. Even when she was determined to ignore him, Samantha would still call him back after at least the third message, sometimes just to yell at him to stop calling her. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong. There was a nagging voice in the back of his head that kept insisting there was something else going on. They had yet to go over the entire case together. She wouldn't be stupid enough to go off investigating on her own. He hadn't pissed her off lately so she wasn't avoiding him. She still wasn't sure exactly what she wanted to do about the lead on her mother he had dug up. So what did that leave?
The answer to his question was as plain as the nose on his face. Harper sprung up, embarrassed that it took him this long to figure it out. He never should have left her alone today. Not today. "Cassidy. I'll get with you when she's ready. Right now I have to go."
*****
Mac found Alexis in the kitchen with a stack of reports they both knew she shouldn't be working on, let alone still have access to. There was a new district attorney in place and she had no legal grounds for participating in anything that lay before her. He let it go with a sigh, telling himself he would take back every single file once she slipped off to sleep tonight. It would kill two birds with one stone. He would avoid a fight altogether. Alexis looked up, startled because he hadn't made any noise when he came in. He walked over to the rack standing near the back door and tossed his suit jacket onto one of its rungs. He returned to the table, kissed the top of her head, and then joined her at the table.
"I know what you're going to say."
"Do you?" Mac smirked. "I was going to suggest a little afternoon sex since I took half the day off, but since you already knew that, we can just call this explanation foreplay." He laughed when her eyes narrowed. She refused to meet his eyes, but he was close enough to see her blush.
"That's not what you were going to say." Alexis dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "You were going to get onto me for looking at these case files—"
"Is that what these are? I thought they were just really large thank you cards."
Alexis couldn't help it; she had to look up. Her eyes met his, her mouth slightly open. "You're in a good mood."
"I hear that's only illegal in the other forty-nine states." Mac nodded.
"So you're not mad?" Alexis treaded with the utmost care.
"I'm home. I don't want to play good cop, bad cop okay?" Mac pleaded.
Alexis felt her posture relax. She hadn't seen Mac smile in so long she was beginning to think he had forgotten how. "Even if I play bad cop?"
Mac grabbed her neck and pulled her toward him, catching her laugh in his mouth when she stumbled onto his lap. He pushed her hair off of her neck with his nose and closed his eyes on a groan. "You smell good."
"I thought you might like this perfume. I haven't worn it since—"
"Our first date. I remember." Mac interrupted, trailing kisses down her throat.
Alexis forced her eyes to stay open. "I have a little confession to make."
"Do tell. I love your confessions." Mac feasted on her mouth, his arms sliding around her and dragging her closer.
"This perfume...well it has a past." Alexis stilled his hand when it found the buttons at the front of her shirt.
"Doesn't everything?" Mac pushed her hand away.
"I might have stolen it."
"You aren't sure?" Mac abandoned her shirt for a second and slipped his hand inside the front of her jeans.
"Well it happened a long time ago. I was in high school and I wanted it." Alexis pouted.
"I know all about wanting something and doing whatever I have to do to get it." Mac tugged loosely on her braid and slanted his mouth over hers.
"Have you ever not gotten something you wanted?"
"No, I don't think so. You?" Mac disregarded the change in her voice.
Alexis pushed on his shoulders and he finally met her eyes, his hands exploring some interesting areas. "Yes."
"Yes, what?" Mac's voice was half strangled.
"Yes, there is something I wanted that I didn't get. Or rather didn't get to keep." Alexis clarified.
"I'll get it for you." Mac promised desperately reaching for her.
"You don't even know what I'm talking about." Alexis pointed out.
"I don't understand why you're talking at all." Mac countered, covering his eyes with his hands.
"I'm sorry. I don't even know why I'm bringing it up."
"Bringing up what?"
"When I was in high school..." Alexis hadn't thought it would be this hard to tell him.
"You stole the perfume. Yes, I know." Mac cut her off impatiently.
"No. That's not...you're still not listening." Alexis snapped.
"What is it you're so afraid to tell me?"
"I have...I mean I had a child in high school. A little girl." Alexis.
"Had? As in past tense?" Mac found his way to his feet.
"She died." Alexis whispered, her throat constricting.
"When?"
"When she was six years old. She got hit by a car." Alexis explained.
"Honey, that's not your fault." Mac tried to approach her, but she jumped a foot backwards.
"Isn't it? I wasn't there!"
"Sometimes things happen and they aren't fair, but I know you. You would never let anything bad happen to your child." Mac declared. "Come on in the living room. We'll talk about it." He was surprised when she let him lead her toward the couch and even more so when she opened her mouth to speak.
"I should have said something before now." Alexis muttered, angry at herself for not at least telling Mac. "And I know you have a lot to deal with already, but I have to tell someone. Someone has to know." A little quieter, she added, "And I want that person to be you."
"I'm listening." Mac promised, patting her hand softly.
"She was kidnapped." Alexis choked out. "From her crib. Someone broke in and stole her while I was asleep. I never heard anything." Her eyes glazed over and Mac knew she was reliving the scene in her mind. "It took three years, but I finally caught up with the person who had taken her. Ironically enough, it was the jerk that got me pregnant and split. He wanted to pay me back for not including him in our lives. As if my father would have let that happen. Besides, even on a good day, they might as well have been the same man. Both were so cruel. When I think about what he must have done to...it makes me sick."
Noticing her shake, in fear or revulsion he didn't know, Mac ran his hands up and down her arms. "It's okay. You're safe." He kissed her cheek.
"I was told to stop looking. It would do no good. It had been too long. 'The girl was dead.'" She did air quotes to describe what the lead officer had told her that day. "My father came down to Miami and took me home against my will. I was still a minor so I had no rights. He sent me to a private school in Prague and married Helena, my wicked stepmother."
"Did you stop looking for your daughter?"
"No. Not for a single second. I was written up in class because I simply couldn't concentrate. I broke out of my room at least three times a week, but they always caught me. There was nowhere I could go anyway. My father had my passport. I was seventeen and scared. Eventually, I did stop looking." She couldn't look at him now, a lump forming in her throat. "I started dating again. I started working toward my new goal of being a lawyer and representing the people who couldn't speak for themselves, people like me." Tears welled in her eyes. "My father mailed a newspaper to my dorm room five years later. It was a front page article of a little girl involved in a hit-and-run. She was killed instantly. There was a picture of the little girl smiling. I have a picture of myself at that age and we could have been identical twins. Someone ran down my daughter. And as much I want to believe it wasn't premeditated, my father hated me for keeping her and bringing shame to his family."
"Did you ever have a DNA test done?"
"No. I didn't need one done. I knew."
"You knew?" Mac scoffed. "How? That's why they have those tests: to be sure."
"Don't yell at me."
"I'm not." Mac insisted. "I just don't understand how you could just accept something your father told you as true."
"I just did." Alexis wiped her tears away. "Now you know."
"I know that she could still be out there somewhere, but you're not even looking for her."
"You know nothing!" Alexis screamed at him. "You don't know what it's like to lose a child!"
"You don't know that you have." Mac reasoned.
"What would you have me do? Confiscate the Miami morgue reports and find out all over again that she's dead?"
"It'd be a start. At least then you would know for sure."
"My daughter is dead. I'm not going off on some wild goose chase to make you feel better." Alexis responded angrily.
"Then let's have someone else do it." Mac suggested, catching Alexis's wrist and stopping her mid-run.
*****
Sam glared at the half-empty glass of Scotch, its very presence making her ill. She hadn't taken a drink; she wouldn't. She didn't even crave alcohol. It was as if her mind had told the rest of her body that she was going to quit drinking cold turkey and she didn't have time for any after effects. Maybe David was the reason. His disgust at her habit (now she could admit it was a crutch) had been the driving force to her sobriety. She wished desperately that she could pick it up, throw it back, and feel better, but it wasn't going to happen. She didn't have to look at a calendar to know. Three years ago today, Vincent had been murdered. Three years ago, she had found his mangled body wrapped up in Sponge Bob sheets. She hadn't even been given the opportunity to think maybe he was sleeping. His face had been covered in scratches, deep, deep cuts, and there were bruises up and down both his arms. The coroner had explained that while the damage done to his face was new, the bruises were not. How had she not seen them? They estimated a month or more of beatings. If he had lived, county services would have taken him away from her.
He hadn't suffered long, the coroner had promised. His neck had been broken. The coroner had no estimation of the scratches, almost as if she couldn't see them. Sam could, and had, every night before falling asleep. She could still see him lying in his bed, his face and lips blue, his head and limbs twisted awkwardly. His fingernails had been trimmed, probably postmortem, and that led Sam to believe that her little Vincent had fought, and fought hard. If only she had been there. If only she hadn't left him in the care of that monster. Tears ran down her face, but she barely felt them, save a minor chill. He hadn't been sexually abused. Such a thought had never entered her brain, at least not until the coroner assured her that at least in that respect his body hadn't been violated.
The only regret she had about killing Jason Morgan was that she had never been able to find out why he did it. Why had Vincent been such a threat to him? He was murdered, in cold blood, and for what? What possible motive could Jason Morgan have for ridding the world of the most exuberant six-year-old, the most wonderful child? She had asked him, demanded even, once he was charged for raping a little boy Vincent's same age in the next town over. When he had been accused, she had been too stupid to put the pieces together. When the clues started to back up a true theory, when he was convicted, that's when she had confronted him about Vincent. He had admitted to killing her son, but refused to tell her why. He had died with that secret. She had almost killed him that day, but he had shown no reaction, no remorse.
The curtains whipped ruthlessly against the double doors leading onto the balcony. Sam abandoned the couch and walked toward them. She pulled the doors shut, but found she was on the other side of them. Funny, she hadn't meant to come out here. Oh well. No bottles out here. No glasses to mock her. She liked the view a lot more. Nothing could touch her out here. The iron bars that made up the balcony beckoned her forward and she loosely wrapped her fingers around the railing, swaying her body up and back. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the harsh wind on her cheeks. Yes, she definitely liked it better out here. She decided to stay.
Cautiously he put his key in the lock. It still amused him that she hadn't asked for it back, even after she refused to look at him when he moved out. Not wanting to disturb, but needing to make sure she was alright, Harper silently opened the door. The room was dark. Still. If it wasn't for the half-empty glass of Scotch on the table, he would have almost believed no one lived here. Making his way further in the room, he looked for any sign of where she might be. He had seen her car in the parking lot so that eliminated her driving anywhere, but she still could have walked. Or have made new friends since he moved out. A beautiful woman like her wouldn't be without companionship for long.
There were none of her tell tale noises coming from the hallway leading to the bedroom. If she was alone, she wouldn't feel the need to hide them. A slight rocking movement caught his eye from the seldom used balcony. Moving closer, he started to make out her form, rocking back and forth her hands loosely gripping the railing. Before he could let out a sigh of relief, Harper felt his eyes widen in horror as Sam started to lift one foot up and pull herself into a standing position on the thin metal rail. Forgetting his earlier idea to just check on her, he rushed to the balcony area. "Samantha!"
It was as if she was in a dream, able to see herself but have no direct effect on her own actions. A voice sounded behind her and she turned to look. The sole of her tennis shoe squeaked and she felt her body propel backwards, her hands gripping only air as she flew over the side of the balcony. All noise seemed to be buffered out by an overwhelming sense of panic. If she screamed, she had no recollection of it.
It was automatic. He saw her start to tilt and ran for the railing, shooting his hands out. No. He was not going to watch her die, damn it. Almost tipping himself over the bar, Harper made a desperate grab, managing to take hold of one of her tiny hands in his. He held on to her as if his own life depended upon it. "Hang on Gorgeous. You hang on you hear me?"
"David?" Sam tried to reach up and grab his free hand, the one he was offering to her, but she knew she would fall if she even attempted such a maneuver. "I'm slipping!"
"I'm not going to let you fall. Trust me Samantha." He tried to steady his own feet. If he lost his footing in any little way, it was going to be a disaster. "Just trust me."
"Don't let me go. Please don't let go." Sam whimpered, trying to stay still as the wind shoved her from side to side. She could feel her hand start to perspire and made an unsuccessful attempt to grab his other hand.
"I won't. I promise you." Shoving his feet underneath the railing, he leaned down a little further causing her to whimper even more. He kept his voice calm even though his heart was racing. "Hey. Hey. I got you. I'm just going to try to raise you up a little. Alright? And when I do you try to grab my other hand ok?"
"Okay." Sam accepted, her answer lost in the wind.
"Alright. Count of three ok? One. Two. Three." It was a good thing he worked out regularly or else they both surely would have plunged over the railing. He managed to lift her a few inches, just enough for her to make contact with his other hand. Closing his fist over it immediately, he stopped and tried to re-center his gravity. "Good. Good job Gorgeous."
"How did you know? Know to come I mean?" Sam asked, trying to distract herself while levering her legs up. If she could just get them around the bars, she could climb up. Her legs dangled heavily beneath her and she panted at the effort.
"I remembered. I'm just sorry it took me so long." Harper admitted. "Alright I'm going to try lifting you again. One. Two. Three."
Sam tried to help him, but her body only floundered and his face with sweating profusely. "This isn't working. I'm too heavy for you."
"Nonsense. You're light as a feather." He denied. "Let's just try again. Let me do the work and if I get you close enough then you try to get your feet on that railing ok?"
Sam nodded, trying not to let fear show in her face. "Okay, let's get this over with. I've got that soap opera to catch up on." Tears slid down her throat as she spoke the words; she could barely make out his face clearly now.
"That's right. You've got important things to do." He smiled down at her. "Alright here we go. This is it. One. Two. Three."
This time, David stepped back and was able to get her up to the railing. He didn't give her a chance to wrap her legs around anything, simply jerked her over the bars. Her body propelled forward and she screamed as it collided with his. If he had been thinking about talking, her body landing on his in such a way had successfully knocked the air out of him. "Are you okay?" She asked quietly, her limbs feeling as if they were made of lead.
"Just fine." He reached out a hand and pushed her hair off her face. "What about you?"
Sam's immediate reaction was to burst into tears. She folded her upper body over his and kissed him. Her fingers moved to the back of his head and she pressed them harshly into his scalp. He moaned, rolling them over so that she was beneath him, and his mouth softened. "David." She whispered. "I'm so sorry." Each word was accompanied by a catch in her throat.
"Shh." He managed to say, gently using his fingers to wipe away the tears from her face. "It's alright. It's ok."
"You're shaking." She noticed.
"So are you."
"I wasn't going to..." Sam suddenly needed for him to believe her.
"I know. I know."
"David?"
"Yeah Samantha?"
"I love you."
Harper blinked, stunned by her confession. Not trusting himself to speak, he smiled shakily and leaned down to capture her lips with his own.
Previews:
The older of the two gentlemen asked, "What do you want? How did you get in here?" His face was just a bunch of lines and shadows, but his eyes were a magnificent blue-green. Striking came to mind, though his manners could use a tune-up.
"How did I get past the top-notch security system, you mean?" Robin teased, enjoying his surprise.