Beneath the Bitter Snow

 

 

Day 1- March 6th

 

 

9:10 am

 

                        Like two mother hens, Caroline and Jo fussed and cooed over the idea of a spring wedding. It wasn't the first time they had gathered together in planning a similar event, but this time around, this was just a tad more excitement on the overall prospect of the occasion. To say that Jo was over joyous in presiding over her eldest child's nuptials was an understatement. If the queen of England had invited her to tea, she would have regarded the invitation on equal par with Steve and Kayla's wedding. Not to be outdone, Caroline quoted loud and clear, for any who chance to pass by, that her daughter the doctor, was to have a wedding of which dreams were made of. With Kayla seeking their assistance in all matters concerning the event, any earlier plans or scheduled activities gave was instantly to the forthcoming celebration.

 

"I'm really hoping Kim can make it, Mom." Facing her mother, Kayla, spoke of how Kimberly had often mentioned a return visit. "Maybe this will help push her to make those travel plans real."

 

Grasping her hands together, Caroline agreed whole-heartedly as she spoke about her much missed older daughter. "I certainly hope so. She was here for your other weddings... it wouldn't feel right if she couldn't come. Kimmy..." She sighed. "When the two of you were away... it was like the family was missing their two brightest stars. I know Bo and Roman... and Max were here, but having my daughters around me... that's... a little special... but in a different way from sons."

 

"Having her with me in L.A. made living there a lot easier. It's so hard to believe now... how we were able to live there so long without the family. But... I've called her... and spoke to her... and insisted that she resume her position as my matron of honor. And speaking of my bridal party... Adrienne is still on the list as a bridesmaid, Jo. " Moving next onto Jo, she tells her of Steve's longing to have the Johnson's back together again. "She and Justin, and the boys are a must show too."

 

"Oh I've already told her dozens of times... that if she wants to see her big brother, she's going to have to pack some bags and get herself over here. Oh Kayla, she was so happy to hear about your wedding plans. I tell you... from getting over the shock of having both Steve and Jack coming back to this... it's a wonder we Johnson's haven't burst from happiness." Laughing heartily from the idea, Jo looked back at them with a mixture of tears and laughter in her eyes.

 

Gathering her lists together, she brought them up to date on what ideas she was currently deciding on. "Well, this time... I definitely want a church wedding, something very traditional."

 

Nodding, Caroline mentioned St Luke's would be the best choice. "I'll contact Father Francis about the date you chose. So you're still decided on the twenty-first of April?"

 

"Yes, since it's the week after Easter, there wouldn't be as much of a hassle in preparing things. Most everything should be available then... also the weather would be warmer too."

 

"I'm so glad you chose the spring... with all the new flowers coming and cherry blossoms in bloom, I can just imagine how beautiful your wedding will be." The waterfall of tears already made their first appearance that morning, as Jo cracked open the valve.

 

"Now don't start yet Jo. We’re only discussing wedding plans still."

 

"Oh I can't help it... " She retorted. "I'm just so happy... and anyway, it's a mother's right to cry at times like this."

 

"But if you start, I'm going to join in too!" Reaching over to give Jo's hand a gentle squeeze, Kayla smiled back at her, as she insisted they had to get through her list.

 

"Alright... just tell me what to do. Maybe if I can keep myself busy, I won't have time to cry."

 

Looking back down, the Salem Inn, seemed a logical choice to hold the reception. "I know Maggie offered Chez Rouge, but I think we could fit in a live band at the Inn better. " It was part of her special gift for Steve. At Stephanie's party, he joined the blues band on several of their songs, ultimately doing a solo. This time, the band was playing for him.

 

"Oh Steve would love that!" Jo exclaimed.

 

"And I need your help in keeping it a secret from him. He's already been trying to find out what I've gotten planned." Giving her a conspiracy wink, she had to tell Jo how tricky her son had been lately in trying to find things out. "He's becoming relentless in his pursuit. He just doesn't want to be surprised, so you've got to help me keep things under wraps."

 

"Don't worry about him." Wrangling her finger in the air, Jo accentuated her the point across that she would keep her son in line if it were the last thing she would ever do. "He's going to stay put and behave or I'll just have to tie him down until the ceremony."

 

Amused by the mental image of Steve trying to outwit his mother, all the women laughed at the idea as Caroline steered the talk back the topic Kayla had yet to mention. "But what about your colors? Have you decided on the color scheme?"

 

Thinking a moment, Kayla nodded at them, smiling softly at her choice. "I want something that would compliment yellow roses."

 

"So what did you decide honey?" Caroline asked her.

 

"Gold. A soft, pale gold, and cream. It borders on pastels, but also gives a slight elegance without being overpowering."

 

Smiling back at her daughter, she reaches to softly caress her face, before nodding in agreement. "I think it's an excellent choice."

 

"I do to." Jo added. "You would be just breathtaking in a cream colored dress with gold accents."

 

"I figure we could have an late afternoon ceremony… that way the reception could continue into the night."

 

Caroline looked at the two of them, pleased at the thought of how the wedding would look. "I can almost see how it will be... honey, it's gong to be beautiful, just beautiful."

 

"I hope so mom."

 

Jo looked at her surprised by the doubt in her voice. "You hope so? Why this wedding will be something people will talk about for months."

 

Running through the choices made so far, Caroline marked each one off mentally. "Now... is there anything we've forgotten?"

 

Jo shook her head. "I think that's everything. Kayla?"

 

"Nope. That's everything. All that's left is for Steve and I to meet up at the altar one more time."

 

Almost in disbelief, Kayla couldn't quite accept that it would happen again. After so many lost and empty years, her husband was going to marry her one last time. Jo walked up to her and gave her a quick hug.

 

"That's something you will never have to worry about. There's nothing in this world that would keep my Steve from marrying you... nothing!"

 

Giving Jo a big smile in response, she agreed as Kayla hugged her back and looked up. "I know...I know."

 

 

**********

 

 

10:12 am

 

                        The report Bo set down on his desk caught Steve off guard as the name of Portia's husband was printed in bold letters across the heading. Looking up, Steve took the folder in his hands and opened it up to the first page. “What’s this?”

 

“Greyson Lansing’s military record.” Bo took the seat across from him. There were two officers in the room with them at the moment, and luckily for them, they were both on phone calls.

 

“How do you get this stuff?”

 

“ISA... but... you didn’t hear that from me. Look at what it says here… Commando trainer… specialist for A.A. units.”

 

“So? What’s AA?”

 

“It’s a code name.” Checking to see that the two officers were still occupied, Bo whispered the meaning behind the name. They’re known as Gabriel’s… Avenging Angels… but the plain truth is they are nothing more than trained assassins for the British military. Their survival rate is low. Chances are they’ll last two missions, three, if they’re lucky… then it’s off to the pearly gates… if you get my meaning. They’re probably the Japanese equivalent of Kamikaze pilots.”

 

The cold shiver ran straight up Steve’s spine just then. He felt his hand automatically flex several times, before forcing himself to relax. The report wasn’t very detailed, but it contained enough information to loosen the worry free from him. “It says here the training lasts years and usually in isolation.”

 

“I figure it would need to be.” Bo told him. “... and I doubt they’ll be putting, join up, posters for this.”

 

He didn’t need to look up to see that Bo was watching him. He felt the man’s eyes and if he were in his place, Steve would probably do the same. He couldn’t imagine anyone signing up for something like this. Unless they were a loner… someone with no family, no friends… who wouldn’t be missed if they failed in their mission.

 

“Steve? I’m not trying to imply anything… but your records from the academy, man… they’re just a tad bit… unusual, you know?”

 

Tempted to respond negatively, Steve, nonetheless, held himself at check. It was hard enough knowing something wasn’t right, but it seemed a whole lot worse, having everyone around him watch and wait for something to go wrong so they could point their fingers. “I still don’t know much else Bo, other than… I’m definitely not the same man who left here years ago. Just the thought that I could have been trained for something like this… makes my gut boil in disgust.”

 

Waiting a few seconds, Bo brought up Lansing’s retirement from the military. “It says he left five years ago this May. Sort of coincides with when you showed up in Cincy… doesn’t it?”

 

“Yeah.  Amazing how it all just fits together… like one damn, sick puzzle. No wonder Portia married him. They work well together, he trains them, and she brains them… makes me wonder now what their son does.”

 

“Well it does make him a suspect now in her death.”

 

Steve shakes his head and leans back in his chair. “No. DiMera did it. He was so anxious to tell me… he admitted how she deserved it for betraying him and the family.”

 

“Steve... man… he was probably lying. I doubt that half the stuff he says is true.”

 

“I’ve got a gut feeling about this… Lansing seems likely, but I don’t believe he killed her. Whatever his reason was for coming here, it wasn’t to kill her.” Steve looked back briefly at the report in front of him, rereading Lansing’s personal information. He had only one child too.

 

“There is always their son? Maybe it was... just a coincidence... that Lansing was visiting his son when this happened.”

 

“Probably … still… I’ve got a weird feeling about Junior. Did you get anything else out of Sami about the guy?”

 

“Other than he’s rich and a race car driver, he seems your typical spoiled aristocrat. He only came to Salem earlier this year. I assume he’s been living in the UK previously.”

 

“I wonder if Jack could help with this. He must have connections… shouldn’t be too hard to look up any news the family could have made over the years.”

 

Bo narrowed his eyes at him and frowned slightly. “You’re bringing him in on this?”

 

“Not really, but we do need to find out a little more about father and son, who better to do that than a nosy reporter who’s only doing his job.”

 

“I think we should focus more on Greyson. All roads seem to point to the guy. His kid may just have been an innocent bystander in all this. I mean he would have been a young boy when you were taken.”

 

“Sixteen years ago he would be only ten… yeah, hardly a treat… but I feel he was a part of it somehow… can’t figure out how though. I don’t know, maybe it was the callous way he acted when I came to offer my condolences about his mother. The guy really didn’t care one way or the other that she died.” Leaning forward again, Steve gathers the paper and places them back in the folder before handing the file back to Bo. “But who am I to talk… I was happy as punch when the old man got his.”

 

Bo looked at him and thought of Victor. Brushing the thoughts aside he returned to his desk and got back to his own daily reports. In deep thought for a minute, Steve stared at his computer screen before he typed in the words Gabriel, angel on his laptop. When the hits come up, he chooses the first one listed.

Angel Gabriel literally translates as ("Master, of God", i.e., a Master, who is "of God")… is an archangel who is thought to serve as a messenger from God. He was also referred to as the "Left hand of God.”  In Biblical tradition, he is sometimes regarded as, the angel of death.

 

“Angel of death.” Steve spoke to words to himself, as he looked back at the screen. The cold seeped in his veins as the taste of bile appeared on his tongue. He could feel himself shivering within from the cold. He could feel as it chilled every part of him. Clicking on the mouse, he erased the name from his search and brought up the files from the cases he started on last week. Switching his attention on the recent murders he was investigating, his mind only wandered once to the image of the arch angel. Try as he might, it took root and refused to leave him be.

 

 

**********

 

 

1:39 p.m.

 

                        Max brought in her suitcase as Stephanie held the door open for him. Throwing her bag on the counter, she flopped herself down on the sofa and gathered the nearest pillow to her chest. She placed her feet on the coffee table, but after a moment took them down again and wiped off the dirt trail she left behind. Max just laughed at her behavior and sat down next to her. She looked tired after her long flight, but the glow and excitement from racing abroad still radiated in her eyes, and Max couldn't help but let a little of the green monster pick at her.

 

Putting on a false high voice, he teased her once again. "Oh, by the way Max, thanks so much for taking some time off and picking me up." As she rolled her eyes at him, and gave him a crooked smile, he continued on. "No sweat Red! I couldn't leave such a famous world class driver stranded."

 

"Still jealous huh?" She finally asked him.

 

"Jealous? Me? Ha! Kayla asked me to get you, that 's why I went."

 

"Oh and the fact you grilled me about the techniques of the other racers all the way home was just a way to pass the time?"

 

"Call it a friendly trade of information among friends. You know I would do the same if the roles were reversed."

 

Flashing her a innocent smile, she just shook her head and laughed at his antics a second time. Reminding her to call her mom, she got up went to the phone by the kitchen wall and called Kayla. As she waited to be connected, Max walked over and told her that he had to get back to the garage. Blowing him a flying kiss and mouthing the words thank you, he smiled back as he let himself out.

 

Finally, she got Kayla's office and listened as the phone continued to ring. "Mom?"

 

"Baby! When did you get in?"

 

"Just now. Max just dropped me off."

 

"Is he still there?"

 

"Nope, just left... said he had to get back to work."

 

"Okay. I'll just call him later to thank him for picking you up. Sorry I couldn't go myself, but I'm just swamped with new patients today."

 

"That's okay mom. I'm actually still suffering from jet lag. I might just take a quick nap instead of unpacking."

 

"So? How was the racing?"

 

""Mom, it was beyond incredible. I just loved being there. It's like a whole different world. I really wish you and dad could have come."

 

"I know baby. We almost did... you're dad was so tempted to just go and book our flights... but definitely the next time... we'll be right there with you."

 

"Cologne was great. I finished fifteenth over all. And Paris... well what can I say... I felt so at home there... it's like I just belonged."

 

"Oh Baby, I'm so happy things worked out so well for you."

 

"You know Ben came to see me in both races. He even spent a few days with me in Paris."

 

"How is he? Your dad hasn't heard from him in a couple of weeks."

 

"He seems a little tired. He mentioned working closed to sixty hours a week the last month."

 

"I can just imagine how hard it must be... and he's doing this all by himself isn't he?'

 

"Yeah. I sort of felt a little guilty that he came over for my races... that he had to put off his work for me, but he said it was a very welcome break. He needed a few days away."

 

"Well I'm glad to hear he's enjoying himself. Did you tell him about our wedding plans?"

 

"I did and he said he already marked the day on his calendar, so he'll definitely be there."

 

"That's wonderful, honey. I know your father will be so happy to have him there."

 

Pausing a moment, Stephanie mentions that she told Ben about Steve's visit to his cousin. It should have been something ordinary, but the fact that he asked twice about his cousin, just seemed a little strange. "You know mom, I did tell Ben that dad visited Elliot not too long ago."

 

"Did you tell him of your dad's dreams."

 

"A little, but... Ben asked twice on how his cousin was. Don't you think that was a little weird?"

 

"No... well, maybe he didn' understand your answer the first time."

 

"I wrote it down when he asked so it wouldn't be hard to misunderstand. I said Elliot seemed friendly enough to dad... even showing a little concern after he hypnotised him. But... Ben asked a second time how he was. It was like he expected him to act... differently."

 

"Did he think Elliot would be upset or angry?"

 

"Not really sure... he didn't say one way or the other. Oh... maybe I'm just making too big a deal over it. He was probably just anxious to hear about him, that's all. Look, I'm getting awfully tired now. I want to try and call dad before lying down a while."

 

"That's a good idea, baby. Come by the house later around seven? I'll have a welcome celebration dinner waiting for you."

 

"Thanks mom. I can't wait."

 

"It's so good to have you back home. We've missed you. I love you."

 

"Love you too mom. Bye."

 

Dialing the number for the Salem PD, Stephanie got a hold of the squad room and was told Steve was currently out, but was expected back within the hour. Rather than leave a message, she thanked the officer on duty and told him she'll just try again later. Entering her bed room a few minutes later, she pulled out a fresh set of pajamas from her dresser drawer and quickly changed. Pulling back the covers on her bed, Stephanie buried herself under the mountain of pillows and fell asleep moments later, a big happy grin on her face.

 

 

**********

 

 

3:44 p.m.

 

                        Retrieving the sheet of paper out from his pocket, Steve looked once more at the clues left to him. Taking a pen, he underlined the words, clear wrapper. Next to it he had written... small... easily overlooked... transparent. Consider everything. Sighing once, Steve looked at the next clue listed. So far he had written down the capital letter G in parenthesis. Next to that, he had the word green, with the description of it being lifted in air. Below, he wrote Portia's favorite colors, Sage and Forest Green. Next to Forest, he also had written Forrest Alamain equals John Black.

 

As he looked again, he still had no answers for the clear wrapper. Clear? He thought. What would it refer to? Window? Glass? Water? He thought of Portia's eyes just then, and felt a shiver run through him. Forcing his attention back, he scrutinzed the second clue. G, equals Green, equals Forest, equals Alamain, equals John. It was laid out as a straight, solid line. The longer he looked down at it, the stronger the frown grew on Steve's face. That was the problem, he realized. Portia never made things simple and easy, and this all seemed too easy.

 

Looking up a moment, another connection came to him. In the free space at the bottom of the sheet, he wrote again, G equals, Gabriels- Avenging Angels, trained assassins. His pen paused another second before he wrote below that, G, equals Greyson ?

 

"Mr. Johnson? If you have a moment... can I trouble you for a favor?"

 

When Elliot Jules came to stand before him, Steve wondered briefly if the young man had seen him write his father's name. Folding the paper in half and putting it back in his pocket, he stood up and extended his hand as the younger man returned a firm handshake. He was dressed in a tailor cut suit that day. Across his arm, he carried his trench coat and beneath, Steve caught a glimsp of a leather case.

 

"Of course, please... have a seat. And what can I help you with?"

 

Elliot took the seat he offered and draped his coat across his lap. Holding his hands, fingers touching in front of him, he brings up his mother's personal effects that the department still held.

 

"I know, it seems a bit late... but I would like to get my mother's things. I believe you still have them as evidence."

 

"They're probably still in the evidence room. I'll call right now and have them brought up." Reaching for the phone, Steve made the quick call and requested the box on Portia Lansing. Elliot sat, nearly motionless as he watched, only smiling when Steve finished his call and turned to face him.

 

"Someone will be bringing it up in a few minutes."

 

"Thank you." Pausing only a few seconds before speaking again, he looked Steve directly in the eye as he spoke. " I suppose... you're wondering why I took so long to claim them?"

 

"Well... you seem like a busy guy... and I figure... it must be hard to see her things... after..."

 

"Actually... it's not that at all. You see she left me her home and when I was going through my things... I realized I didn't have her set of keys. She must have had it on her person when she was kil... when she died."

 

"I see." Steve frowned a liitle at him. He told himself he wasn't going to judge the man, but it still irked him to see him act so dispassionately. "You know... I really only knew your mother for a couple of days... even then, she seemed... to be a very interesting person."

 

"Interesting? Most people have called her peculiar."

 

He was a little taken back by the brunt honesty. Considering Portia's strangeness, at the very least, Steve would have thought Elliot would shown more compassion. Afterall, he inherited the same peculiar trait.

 

"Yes. She was that too." Steve answered him. "I guess... it must have been hard on you when your parents divorced." Though he hadn't meant to tell Elliot of his own childhood, Steve somehow felt a need to let the other man know he understood how he felt. "My own folks stayed married... but it would have been better for everyone if they had split up. I didn't have a happy childhood either."

 

"Then I'm very sorry for you."

 

"You don't have to feel sorry... it happened a long time ago."

 

"But you feel sorry for me... don't you?" Elliot questioned him.

 

Feeling a little confused by the man's answer, Steve could only agree with him. "A bit. It's not easy coming from a broken home."

 

"But yet... there are so many of us that have." Elliot watched him now, he gaze steady on Steve's face as the seconds ticked by. For a long moment, their eyes met as each man sized up the other. Steve felt the change first, a crack in his memory. He narrowed his gaze and focused hard as Elliot's wavered ever so slightly. He felt it then, the sense of pushing against a hard wall and feeling it give way. Looking back, Steve saw a bit of the boy Elliot must have been before the face of a grownup took over and molded him.

 

The door to the squad room opened just then, as the officer on duty in the evidence room brought a box over. When the box was placed on the desk, Steve removed the cover first before handing it over. He gave Elliot Jules the release form to sign and asked that he check the contents first, to make certain all that was listed, was in the container. Taking a brief glance, Elliot Jules signed his name and reached in for the set of keys placed above his mother's clothes. He handled them, looking at the assortment of keys, before placing them in his brief case. Returning the box cover, he asked instead that Steve dispose of the remaining articles.

 

"If you wouldn't mind... I have what I came for. Perhaps you can properly dispose of these for me. I really have no use for them."

 

"Sure. I'll have the clerk take care of it."

 

"Thank you... for all your help. Mr. Johnson. It is very much appreciated."

 

Standing up, he drapes his coat over his arm as he reached to give Steve a handshake. Before leaving, he smiles suddenly, looking down a moment, he faces Steve and brings up his mother again. "I know you barely knew my mother yourself. She wasn't a person... you could ever really know. But I am certain my father loved her... even after she left him. That's why... he would never agree to the divorce. They just lived on opposite sides of the ocean." Giving a small shake of his head, he had an almost meloncholy smile before continuing. "They were still married when she died. Till death to us part... you can say." He ended his tale with a small smile.

 

"Good bye... Mr. Johnson."

 

Steve watched him as he turned and left the room. He remained standing by his desk for several minutes, thinking about the woman who had nearly destroyed his life. Elliot's revelation did catch him by surprise, no more so than the reason behind why he mentioned it at all.  Steve knew she didn't deserve them, after all the hell he went through, she was the last person worthy, but they fell anyway. Several tears were shed for her, as he remembered the last time he looked into her eyes. She was already dead inside and it seemed no one had cried for her but him.

 

 

**********

 

 

7:47 p.m.

 

                        Popping open a bottle of Champagne, he poured three glasses and handed one each to his wife and daughter. Facing Stephanie, he inclined his glass towards her as did Kayla and gave her a toast. "Welcome home, baby!"

 

"Welcome back!" Kayla echoed.

 

Taking a sip, Steve set his glass down and picked up his fork to continue eating dessert. Kayla made the special dinner that night as he had to work a little later than usual. Stephanie's excitement and eagerness to tell them of her trip lasted only moments after he got home. She spent practically the entire meal telling her parents everything that happened. The second by second commentary made both Steve and Kayla chuckle, but they sat captivated as Stephanie went through all the feelings and emotions of racing abroad.

 

"I'm in the top twenty position after Paris, but so far, the lists haven't gone up again. They're still waiting for the other race result in Lyon, Brussels, and Hamburg before revealing the qualifiers for the next Paris meet."

 

"When's that suppose to be?" Kayla asked first.

 

"End of March... though there's talk it could be moved to the first Sunday in April." Getting up for coffee, Kayla fills both her cup and Steve's as Stephanie declines.

"That'll just keep me up longer and I'll be up anyway. Still on Paris time."

 

"Beginning of April huh? It's cutting close to our plans baby?' Taking a drink, he lets the hot beverage warm him.

 

"I wouldn't worry, dad. I'm not trying to downplay my standings... but most probably, I won't be able to qualify again until the next meet in Hamburg. That's not untill May. I might be able to get in on Leeds too. Abby could join me on that one and I can visit a few days with Uncle Jack."

 

"Well... it certainly looks like you've got your schedule set for the next few months." Steve had been telling himself all along that things could go this way. Mentally, he tried to prepare himself. But now that the moment was actually there, he just wanted to brush it aside a little bit longer. "Salem must seem pretty boring now."

 

No, Dad. This is home... this is my home now... and I'll always be coming back here when I'm finished."

 

Giving her a soft clip on the cheek, he offers her a smile before asking about the rest of her stay. "Your mom mentioned Benjy. How is the dude?"

 

"Ben's good! Overworking a lot, but he says it's getting easier. He sort of mentioned that he hoped Elliot would change his mind and help him run things, but so far, it doesn't look like the man's interested. Ben said if only Elliot took up part of the workload, he'd be able to visit more."

 

"I saw him again today." He looked to Kayla as he spoke of his visit. "Elliot came to the station and asked about his mother's personal effects. He finally decided to claim them."

 

"It's understandable if he waited. Some people can't bear to see reminders right away." Kayla had seen it herself at the hospital. Sometimes, family members just could't cope seeing their loved one's things.

 

"Well, if it was just that... I'd agree with you. But he told me himself... that he only asked so he could get her keys. Obviously he didn't have a copy, so he needed her set. After he took them, he asked that we get rid of the rest. I tell you... there was no emotion in the guy. He might as well have been looking at some magazines with the amount of interest he showed."

 

"You know Ben asked about him twice, dad. I told him a little about your visit with him before. Ben seemed... he wanted to know how Elliot... was. Like he expected him to act... differently."

 

"He was just the same to me each time I saw him. The first time I just thought, okay... very British reserve. I mean you met him, Sweetness. The man doesn't exactly exclude warmth. He just seemed so conservative... almost to the point of being numb, emotionless."

 

Kayla wondered if his father was the same type of man. "He could have taken after his father, Steve. You did say his father raised him."

 

"Oh and that's another weird thing. I told him I was sorry about his parents divorcing and him coming from a broken home... said I knew how it felt... but he told me not to feel sorry for him. He said his parents never divorced, but just lived apart. They were still married all this time."

 

"You're saying Portia just left her family and came here?"

 

Nodding at her, still he quesioned whether there was something else. "Since she was a DiMera, I wonder... if she was forced to leave... abandon her family. The woman wasn't happy. You could see it in her eyes."

 

"Then maybe her son thinks she abandoned him. Could explain why he's acting the way he is. He's probably really bitter about what happened."

 

"Yeah. "He sighed as Kayla reached over and placed her hand on his. "I know what that feels like. But... there's nothing that can be done now." Looking over at Stephanie, he gave her a quick smile before switching the conversation to something else. "Sorry, Baby. Didn't mean to put a damper on your welcome home celebration."

 

"It's okay dad." Returning to her own half finished dessert, Kayla offers her some tea instead. She brings over two of the tea canisters that Jack brought over from England and goes to the kitchen to boil some water. Stephanie reads the flavors her uncle gave them. "Vanilla, English Grey...?" Her face forms a slight frown as her forehead burrows in lines. "English Grey? Isn't is suppose to be Earl Grey?"

 

Kayla returned just then with her cup of hot water as she notes the misprint on the label. "I didn't notice that. It's is Earl Grey, unless they're calling it something else now. Did you want some honey?"

 

"No, the cream and sugar will do fine, Mom."

 

As Stephanie and Kayla spoke of the upcoming wedding plans, Steve picked up the tea canister and looked at the small printed letters. If a person wasn't careful, it was very easy to overlook the mislabled name. Trust it to Jack to pick up the wrong tea, he thought. But somehow this time, he believed his brother got it right. How many times now had he read this, he asked himself. But this time, he relied more on what was written, than what he expected to see.

 

Something so small and easily overlooked. Something clear and transparent that you may see through it. Earl Grey. Grey... Greyson... Aristocrat... Earl of....  He was the answer to the first clue. "Damn you Portia!" He thought.

 

 

 

11:37 p.m.

 

When the dream returned that night, the sequence began as always, but the voice behind him now appeared clear and demanding. He felt the anger in his heart as he tried to refuse the order, but it pricked at him. A slight pain in his head grew as the man spoke again.

 

"Do not try my patience. It will go worse for you the longer you resist."

 

"I don't give a damn about your patience!" Steve saw himself turn around to face him, as the gun was thrust at him. Roughly taking the offered weapon, he turned back quickly to the target and shot at it. Lowering the gun to his side, he let out the breath he had held as the man spoke again.

"You didn't miss... as expected... as expected."

 

Though he sensed the man leaving him alone, Steve kept his focus ahead and under his breath, he muttered his reply. "Don't expect too much, Earl... Grey... " He gritted his teeth as he referred to his jailer. "I have never been that... predictable."