Thou Shalt Not Kill

Thou Shalt Not Kill

 

 

Chapter III

 

 

He didn’t bring it up until dinner was over and they were clearing the table. Steve carried a stack of dishes into the kitchen while his wife was busy loaded the dishwasher. Being somewhat grumpy already when he came home, the nice quiet evening alone together should have cheered him up. The sour taste of his unplanned meeting with Elliot hadn’t all evaporated yet and he still looked disagreeable and disgruntled.

 

“He must think I have all this free time to see him whenever he feels like coming in.” The complaint was reasonable since his workload was heavy that day, but the underlying irritation was as usual, over abundant where the younger man was concerned.

 

Steve narrowly escaped breaking one of the dishes as he lowered them roughly and loudly in the sink to soak. Kayla lifted her head at the sound and bit at her lower lip as she took the remaining dishes and added them with the others.

 

She her head down, she added some soap before starting up the machine, then faced her husband. “I thought the new recruits where taking up a lot of the work?”

 

“They are, but some cases Roman wanted us to handle personally.”

 

“You know… if it gets too much at the station, you could always go back full time for a while?”

 

“It’s not that… one of the cases may actually come in handy with one of the jobs at the PI office. I think it could be related to all that smuggling stuff Bo and I are working on.” Folding his arms across his chest, he remained as he was by the sink as she continued to clean up.

 

“Isn’t that a little un-ethical?”

 

“What?”

 

“Getting inside information and using it in your police work.”

 

“Only if it pans out. Actually, the client knows we are cops, so any information he gives can be considered a tip… if you want to get down to it.”

 

So it’s really working out for you three?” She had moved to wrapping any leftovers they had and placing them in the refrigerator. Steve leaned against the counter watching her as she moved about the room.

 

“So far, John’s been in the most… but Bo and I try to catch up on the weekends.”

 

“Have you seen John lately? I’ve heard from Marlena that he spends most of his time their instead of his company.”

 

“Can’t blame the man for wanting to get his hands a little dirty now and then… but Bo did mention he has been there almost every morning this week.”

 

“I guess he’s trying to keep busy so he won’t have to think about…”

 

“You can say it Sweetness… his son, the one who’s disappeared without a trace. Yeah… I’m pretty sure that’s the reason.”

 

“Then it should be good news that Elliot has offered to see if he could find more information.”

 

“The answer is if… he can dig up anything else which I doubt.”

 

Kayla had returned to the sink to wash up while Steve reached for a kitchen towel and handed it over to her. Letting it hand on the rack to dry, she walked out from the kitchen with her husband following close behind her. “Why be so negative?”

 

“Who’s negative? I’m being realistic here.” He told her as she took a seat on the couch and he sat down beside her. The stack of thank you cards she was reading was only half done and Kayla told herself she needed to get another five or six done that night before turning in.

 

“He could still find things… maybe his father hid them elsewhere.” She offered then saw him frown at her.

 

“So why didn’t he think of that when we were there?”

 

“I don’t think he was thinking clearly at all Steve. His father had just died and we were there for the funeral.” She reminded him. “Looking for anymore files or discs would have been the last thing on his mind.”

 

He looked a little remorseful then recalling the purpose of the trip and Steve did feel a bit hasty that all his thoughts were automatically negative where Lansing was involved. Sighing a little, he acknowledged she had some valid points, but it still seemed off that the man wanted to return for another look. “You know if he does find anything else, some of the information could be about me. If he gets files about things I did, it may make me look…bad.”

 

She turned to face him then. Setting aside her list of names and addresses, Kayla saw the worried look on Steve’s face and wondered if his concern was stemming in part from what he feared he may have done. Lately, his memories were just trickling in, but if Elliot could discover more, well it would worry her too if some of it was bad.

 

“Is that what your fearful off, that he’s using the excuse of searching for John’s son to get more dirt on you?”

 

“I would give that a resounding… yes.”

 

But Kayla had seen enough of the man to know her husband was way off course in that line of thinking. She wasn’t sure how he would take the idea that she was actually going to side against him, but Kayla just couldn’t see Elliot being malice and vindictive. If anything, she was getting the feeling that he was using this opportunity to get on Steve’s good side. Of late, he didn’t have one where Lansing was concerned, but miracles could still happen.

 

“You know… a big reason he could be doing this is to try and get you to like him. Any information he finds could help you instead.”

 

“Then he’s wasting his time.” His jaw grew rigid after that pronouncement and he leaned back in the couch as Kayla tried to continue with her notes.

 

It was back to this again, Kayla thought dejectedly. Stephanie had already asked her for some help during the baby shower. She knew her father was being unreasonable and was hoping mom could give him a little push or nudge, or kick in the right direction. When Kayla thought about the two of them, a small part of her couldn’t help but notice some similarities between them. Social outcasts during most of their lives, they both hid a big strong heart that was just yearning to be seen.

 

Elliot had been abandoned nearly in the same way Steve was and grew up alone and confused. Her husband may not want to admit it, but Elliot may just need the love of a good woman to turn him around, soften him up so to speak. Where Stephanie was concerned, Steve was as old fashioned and strict as she never thought possible considering their own past. He had been an amorous and passionate man with her, but if any man tried anything close with their girl, he was certain to find himself pounded to the ground.

 

She glanced at him again and seeing his expression was still unchanged she tried a different tactic. The problem was she really couldn’t understand his dislike of the younger man. It was bordering on the unrealistic and Kayla wanted him to explain rather than continually being unpleasant if they were in each other’s company. Maybe she was correct in thinking Steve saw a lot of himself in Elliot and that was what scared him. The man hid his emotions behind the hard British reserve and his feelings were nearly unreadable a majority of the time. It would do no good to catch him unaware since he was an expert at keeping himself distant and untouchable.

 

“He could surprise you… I bet there lurks a really kind and tender heart underneath those silk suits. In a way, he reminds me a bit of you… the way you were when we first met.”

 

Looking at his wife, Steve couldn’t keep the look of surprise and outrage at her suggestion. “Baby? I know your hormones must be acting up otherwise you would even suggest anything so revolting as that. The man and I have nothing… I repeat nothing which could remotely be considered similar in this universe or any other.”

 

Kayla looked back extremely hurt and Steve felt worse than he had in a long while. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his wife’s feelings, especially now when she was bound to be more emotional. But darn if the man didn’t bring out the worse in him.

 

“Sorry I said anything.” She mumbled out and sat quiet beside him.

 

“No Sweetness, I’m the one who’s sorry.” He pulled her into his arms as she leaned into his embrace and pressed her face against his shoulder. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Every time I see Lansing… I just get so riled up and anxious? But seriously… there’s nothing similar about us. I mean… how could you even think it?”

 

Kayla could feel how tense he instantly became and she wondered too why he would react so violently. She was starting to wonder if there wasn’t sometimes else they were missing where Elliot was concerned, but what could there be. He was just a boy when Steve was held captive so what harm could he have done to her husband. Steve may not believe, but there was something about him that really reminded her of Steve. It was a feeling of vulnerability that just called out to her that Elliot had been very badly hurt at one time and was just as scarred as her husband was.

 

“Each time I see him, I almost feel like, like… I don’t how to explain it, but it’s similar to the way I felt with you and this.” She raised her hand and softly touched his patch. “It doesn’t make sense, but it’s there, that he had suffered too and not just emotionally.”

 

“I really can’t see how that’s possible. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with the man, other than being overly confident and smug.”

 

“Steve!” Kayla spoke loudly.

 

“Don’t try to act so surprised baby… because he is smug.”

 

“He’s confident… that’s the way Stephanie describes him.”

 

“Well he’s got this chip on his shoulder that I’d like to knock off…”

 

Kayla sat up then and gave him a very disgruntled look. It wasn’t like him to be so vicious to a man who had helped him for months now. “That’s enough Steve Johnson! Are you forgetting that he is very good friends with our daughter.”

 

“Forget? How can I when the two of you keep bring him up?”

 

“And he’s done nothing but helped you all this time.”

 

“Want me to send him a thank you card too… fine I’ll do that… let me have one of those.” He told her while reaching for one from her pile of cards.

 

She slapped his hand away as she grabbed the stack and moved it out of his reach. “Ouch! Why’d you do that baby?”

 

“That’s not funny.” She said her voice reprimanding him.

 

“So who’s laughing? See…” He told her pointing to his face. “… I’m dead serious!”

 

But Kayla only shook her head at him as he finally let out a chuckle. She wasn’t liking his behavior lately and it bothered her. Maybe it was just her imagination, but there was something else about all this that they needed to uncover because Steve never acted this way. “Maybe you should talk to Stephanie about him, find out more about the man?”

 

“Don’t you mean if… I want to know more, which I don’t.”

 

“You know you’re dislike of him is really strange.”

 

“I don’t think so. Aren’t I just being the overprotective papa?”

 

“No! There’s something else… I just wish I knew what it was.”

 

“I’m telling you Sweetness, it’s just my fatherly instincts kicking in. Got to make up for all those lost years you know.”

 

“Maybe?” Kayla eyed him before taking her pen and twirling it around her fingers. “But I still want to know have you spoken to Stephanie about him yet.”

 

“Well… sort of… in a way.”

 

“Does that mean you did?” She pushed and cornered him, but Steve just evaded the question again.

 

“Look… his name came up, but we just didn’t go into detail.”

 

“So I take that as a no?”

 

“He’s just not one of my favorite people, baby?”

 

Letting out a big sigh, his wife frowned as Steve twisted his mouth from side to side and looked around for the newspaper. She went back to her thank you notes though glanced up from time to time to find him giving her occasional looks too. Kayla started on her first note and finished quickly while crossing off the next name on her list. For the next few minutes she continued with another name, working her way down. She suddenly recalled the incident with the strange man at the hospital that morning and was just about to tell Steve. There was something familiar about him, though she couldn’t imagine where she would have seen him before. But seeing how engrossed he was, she let it drop for now and just finished up her cards.

 

 

**********

 

 

The larger of the two men, upon hearing of Lansing’s plans to return to England, suddenly motioned to one of his companion. He wasn’t expecting that bit of news and wondered if the trail would lead them back there. So far, he wasn’t certain about even following Lansing, but now he was thinking twice about the idea. The two men had occupied the room for most of the afternoon, while three others were dispatched back to the office at the river front. The rest were still holding up in the next city and were just waiting for the signal to make their move. The object was to draw as least possible attention to themselves so they had spread out, in a manner of speaking, but all could instantly regroup within an hour’s notice if needed.

 

Listening in on the Johnson’s that evening, the larger of the two kept sat nearly motionless as he his companion wrote down every word that was spoken that evening. It had been easy enough to install the devices when all were out early that day. Four days had been spent trailing Johnson and so far, this was the first bit of information that even looked promising. The others had grown restless and his own patience was wearing thin. If nothing more substantial could be discovered then they would have to make their presence known.

 

The short blond hairs on his head stood up in a spiked look and it gave him an even more menacing appearance. The hard lines on his face could have been mistaken for tired lines, but on his countenance, it was the result of too many years of hard physical labor. To survive as long as he did was a testament to his training and his desire to live. The past few weeks had been difficult enough to be in hiding and without guidance. All he knew was all could be in jeopardy if he failed in this mission to retrieve what was theirs.

 

As he tried to flex his hand, the tight bandage hindered his movements and he pressed down at it, feeling a sharp pain surge through him making him smile. He enjoyed the pain, the feel of his senses at the breaking point. It allowed him to focus and narrow his attentions as everything around fell to the wayside and he could deepen the experience. The long years of training worked well in honing such skills, and of that he had always been proud and boastful. The others may have been stronger, but he had a single minded determination that bordered past obsession. When his goals were chosen and his targets marked, nothing short of death would deter him. He grinned slightly as he heard Johnson cooing at his wife, enjoying the time they now spent together.

 

The blond was stunning, there was no question about that. When he had come across her that morning, he immediately felt the stirring in his loins as she worked swiftly on his injury. He had tried once or twice to capture her gaze, but she avoided any real contact with him. What he had seen was fire in her eyes and he liked that. Women like her would fight and he always enjoyed a good fight rather than the ones who willing give up after a small struggle. She reminded him of his last conquest, of how the woman struggled to the bitter end as he forced himself on her.

 

The image of her long blond hair was still strong in his memory as he relived the moment. The name she gave him was false and it just gave him another reason to see she suffered more as he took her. Normal women never approached him and he had to seek other avenues and came upon those easily bought with pocket change for an hour or two, if he was so inclined. He was surprised that he remembered that much detail of his last whore since all their faces blended into one mass jumble and all he needed to wonder about was would she last through what he planned.

 

This time, she reminded him of Johnson’s wife and it made him feel a need then. Sometime tonight, he would need to ease his need, but right now, he tried to place Dr. Johnson’s face over the blond he had last. She had struggled furiously against him as he pinned her down and took her without mercy. Her longs nails left deep gashes against his ribs and he repaid her in kind with the sharp blow to her chin. It mattered not that she was half unconscious as he had his way, pulling her legs high on his shoulders as the bed creaked and groaned beneath his hard thrusts. What she felt was pain and nothing much else.

 

Her body was found much later that night and the forensics team that examined her could only shake their heads at how her life ended. It wasn’t a true surprise considering the nature of life on the streets, but the brutality visited on her was something more. She was slightly torn leaving none to doubt as to how cruelly she was used. But the final injustice of her death was unwarranted that some couldn’t help but pity the life that ended so quickly. Any beauty she possessed was fleeting now as her death mask forever sealed her youth to her moment of death. At eighteen, she should have had more to dream about than what she saw in her last moments. Closing her open eyes, she was covered and taken away, another nameless name in the books soon to be forgotten.

 

Most of the women he chose had been fair but always young. As tempting and attractive as Johnson’s wife was he had to admit, she was older than he preferred. His daughter on the other hand, had the essence of youth he was hard pressed to resist. Almost certain she would struggle and fight him as he tried to envision her in his thoughts he nearly groaned aloud at the pleasure he could have with her. Pressing his hand between his legs, he felt how hard he had grown and almost yelled out in protest that it would be another couple of hours before he could satisfy his need. There were whores a plenty in this town as in any other. That was one thing every place could always be depended upon.

 

While he sat back in his chair, listening to the small talk, he would let his mind wander to what he would do that night and hoped he would easily find a young, willing female. If she was blond, it would be an added bonus, but right now, all he wanted was one who had fire in her. He sat almost lost in his thoughts of lust when the other man cleared his throat and tapped at the pad he had been writing. Forcing his urges down, he looked back at the smaller man and nodded then read the notes he had taken.

 

No one had mentioned an exact location, so they were still left to wait until more concrete news would be given. They were just as interested in Lansing’s trip, wondering perhaps if the man was hiding something too. As he contemplated what to do next, he heard Johnson talk about his daughter again, unknowingly allowing the image of her to come back in full load. It was strange that the man had not spoken of him at all nor seemed to recall their time together. Though he didn’t spend as much time with Steve Johnson at first, later on, he was practically the man’s shadow.

 

He was never able to get much out of the man later on. The earlier mistakes were so quickly rectified that what passed between the last two was one step above tolerance and one step below hatred. Many liked to put the blame on the one-eyed man, but none would openly subject him to their views as he was a favorite. But the problem, which plagued them all, was that Johnson never truly became one of them. At some point he had to prove his worth, but before that could be accomplished, he was taken away.

 

As far as they were concerned, he never earned the right or the title. Until he could prove his worth, he was still an outsider. He had the means all along and the potential and was as strong as any of the others, but the killer instinct was weak. Until Steve Johnson could kill, he was still a mere foot soldier, no matter how strongly Greyson Lansing had praised his skill. There had been a time when he would have been thought to be jealous of the preferential treatment the one-eyed man got, but seeing how he was Greyson’s pet, it was wise to wait and hold his tongue. Now it all changed and his superior wasn’t around to hold him back anymore. The second Gabriel sat listening intently as Steve Johnson mentioned his daughter once more and smiled to himself at thought of how very beautiful she was.

 

 

**********

 

 

Most of the files were unceremoniously shoved back into the waiting arms of a junior officer who gave Bo a wide eyed look before shuffling his feet out the door and back to the file room. It had been pretty busy that morning with a rash of reports regarding another prostitute murder last night and someone had already jumped the gun that a serial killer was at work. A press conference was already scheduled and Roman needed to address the public, calming their fears that the police were on the case and there was no need to panic.

 

Bo walked downstairs along with several other detectives to watch. The newspaper reporters and media were already set up waiting for the commander to start his speech before asking questions. Normally a story like this wouldn’t have gotten as much press coverage, but the brutality visited upon the two victims had been extreme and cruel. Two homicides within three days gave everyone a cause for concern as Roman finally arrived to make his brief statement. Bo looked across the room and saw his brother-in-law arrive and motioned him over.

 

Bending half an ear to Roman’s speech and half to Steve, Bo divided his attention between the two unsuccessfully. The usual opening statement was nothing new. The purpose was not to alarm the public if they were dealing with a serial killer, but at the same time, people should be vigilant, keeping their eyes and ears open. Steve looked perplexed at the mere idea of the danger and instantly thought of Kayla and Stephanie. Since he had come back home, all his thoughts always centered around his family and the need to keep them safe.

 

Bo shifted in his stance as Roman continued talking, trying to calm everyone’s fears, but panic was already prevalent and people had a stronger tendency to panic then stay calm. “Looks like Roman’s got his hands full today.” Steve gave a quick look around at the lines of reporters and shook his head that it needed a gruesome death to get them excited.

 

“Somehow the MO in this latest victim matched the one from the other night. Someone stared saying serial and now everyone’s in a panic.” Bo grimaced when he remember viewing the body of the young girl. Her lower extremities had been badly bruised on top of everything else that was done to her. “We’ve got an animal running lose, Bro. Makes me really worried… you know what I mean?’

 

Steve had seen the reports and felt his own stomach do flip-flops when he saw how young the victims had been. “I take it we’re looking at someone who’s recently come into town?”

 

“You mean a drifter? Probably… though scum like that usually don’t stay long. So if we’re going to catch him, we better do it fast.”

 

“Is there anything we need to stay alert for? What about clues…our mystery man leave any?”

 

“So far, he seems to like them young and blond. I’ve contacted other departments around the area even as far away as Cincy… but so far, they have no matches. If our boy did this in other towns, he covered his tracks really well.”

 

Steve thought for a moment about how close the deaths were, noting the man killed again within such a short time span. “He’s had two victims in nearly four days… that’s awfully short.”

 

“I know… hence people are panicking already. If he goes after them that fast, we may see another victim by tomorrow.”

 

“You don’t suppose it’s someone local? Maybe someone finally snapped?”

 

Bo mentioned the unlikelihood that was the case, but it wasn’t ruled out entirely. “He’s targeted prostitutes… pretty much people know one would think twice about if they disappeared tomorrow. That would leave him to wander in and out without having to fear anyone would recognize him somewhere should he be turn out to be a resident.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Bo turned to Steve facing him directly as he kept his arms crossed over his chest, no longer listening to the questions not being fired at his brother. Roman was answering them with very general responses, deflecting any that cause further alarm. “Can we talk?” He nodded at him as they made their way around the crows and walked back upstairs to the detective office.

 

Entering the squad room, only one man remained heavily engrossed in a telephone call. The rest apparently were downstairs listening in. “Something wrong?” Steve asked as they sat down at Bo’s desk and he pulled a pile from the stack on his desk.

 

“Roman wanted us to handle these murders… so I needed to give you the clues we’ve had so far.” Opening the folder, he scanned down the sheets, mentioning again the similarity in description for the two victims. “As I said downstairs, the women were prostitutes, young… looks to be in their late teens, blond, though one was a dye job.”

 

“So he preys on the weak and needy… how unoriginal.” He scowled deeply at the thought of those children society cast out. Now, apart from all the troubles they had, they were easy victims for a psycho killer out there. Having spent enough years living along beside them, Steve knew how invisible they were to the rest of society, that is until their deaths threatens the comfortable lives on the other side of the tracks. Then and only then would it warrant attention and resolution

 

“Well he doesn’t just prey, he destroys. Forensics says he is extremely brutal as both victims were… torn.” Bo could hardly get the word out as he sat back in his chair and looked depressed at the thought of having to deal with such an animal. Steve swallowed uncomfortably as he asked if there was anything else. The MO’s so far gave a man between the ages of twenty five to forty, Caucasian, very strong, and probably inflicted with lots of scratches.

 

“Tissue samples were found underneath the nails of both victims, so they scratched him good. There were also defense bruises all along their arms and hands… so it looks like they fought… they fought hard… but he still overpowered them.” Bo continued.

 

“What about witnesses?”

 

“You know the drill down there…no one ever sees anything and everyone minds their own business.” Bo told him as he pushed the file over to Steve so he could read for himself.

“I’m so glad fancy face is off right now…cause I’d hate for her to have to work on something like this.” He shook his head again and crossed his arms back over his chest.

 

Steve read the report and with the added crime scene photos, nearly felt him stomach churn again before stopping to take a breath. Bo was watching the change of emotion slash over his face. He had seen it early when one of the rookies read over the file and immediately had to leave for a quick dash to the washroom. When he came back the usual ribbing would have followed, but none felt any pleasure in bringing up the subject.

 

“Not very pretty… is it?” Bo asked him as Steve slowly nodded and put the file down. His own thoughts turned to Kayla and Stephanie again and all he wanted to do was see them right that minute to make sure they were both fine. He knew he didn’t have to worry as much since Kayla was at the hospital surrounded by dozens of nurses and hospital personnel, while Stephanie was with Benjy. His women were safe and sound and it let a little of the pressure building inside of him ease a little.

 

“No! It’s not… and I won’t feel safe about Kayla and Stephanie going out with… him on the loose.”

 

“I feel the same with Hope and Ciara. Heck… I’m worried about any woman other there. What if he decides to move on to someone he meets… at the mall, maybe?”

 

“I don’t want to even think that right now Bo! I’ve got enough to worry about with trying to keep Kayla safe these days.”

 

“What… what are you talking about? Something wrong with my sister?”

 

“No! She’s fine! I meant in general… you know, trying to make sure she okay… what with her pregnancy and all?”

 

“Damn! Don’t scare me like that! Bo felt his heart pumping fast at the mere mention that Kayla maybe in some kind of danger. It hadn’t been too long ago that they had Stefano hanging over their heads and the danger to his sister was high. But that had passed and the monster was dead. Kayla and Steve remarried and were living a pretty normal life so all seemed good finally for the two of them. “Maybe you shouldn’t work on this case. I could tell Roman to get you on something else?”

 

“No. I can do this. It’s got nothing to do with this case. I guess I just feel jumpy still.”

 

“About what? You’ve got a dream life now bro. It doesn’t get better than this.”

 

Considering how awful things may have seemed just last year, it was a complete reversal of fortune now for Steve. But there were still moments when he feared it could all be taken from him again. So far, there was still a good deal of his past missing, but he was learning not to focus on any of it. Whatever came, he dealt with and moved on. It hadn’t been easy with so much guilt still inside of him, but he was coping and living with everything.

 

“That’s just it… I had a dream life back then too. It was all before me then, a fabulous life with my wife and child and then… I had nothing.”

 

His brother-in-law knew only too well the feeling of loss having experienced it enough times in his own life. Bo gave him a small smile and commiserated with him and at the fears that was eating away at his friend. “You know I was scared too, when we first got Hope back that I would lose her again. For a while it was so good between us… then there was the news we didn’t have Hope that she was an imposter? I know what you mean about feeling like it could all be taken away from you again.”

 

Steve forced himself to smile even though he was feeling so uneasy and anxious after reading the police report. There was something about it that just gnawed at him, something that seemed familiar which was scaring him. It sparked just the tiniest recollection in him, that he could hear what the women would have cried out yelling. It sent a coldness deep in his heart that made him tremble as his hands suddenly shook and he had to stand and turn away.

 

He faced his own desk not too far off and spied one of Kayla pictures. Just the image of his sweetness and he could feel the calm returning to him, softening the pain that had formed in his belly and soothed the rapid beating of his heart. He looked back to find Bo staring intently at him, a wary and cautious look on his face as Steve smiled back slowly, but remained standing. “Sorry, I just got a mental image of what those girls must have gone through… I shouldn’t have let it affect me that way.

 

Bo still watched a bit unsure, concerning the swift change in his behavior. But seeing how distressed Steve had been, he could empathize and agree, it wasn’t something he would have ever wanted to see. “Don’t sweat it man.”

 

“Look… I do know what you’re trying to say about letting your fears control you. I admit… I still get scared. Not so much for me… but for Kayla and Stephanie and now the baby. It’s all so good again and every time it gets to this point… something always happens.”

 

Tapping his fingers on Bo’s desk, Steve leaned forward a little, eyeing the now closed folder before him and a bit of the coldness returned but he forced it down, trying to focus on something pleasant instead. His greatest fear since coming back home was how easily he could lose it all again. Then Elliot had to tell him how he planned to dig for more clues, hopefully uncovering more from Steve’s own past too. There was just so much still to be uncovered and he wasn’t ready yet to take it all in. Whatever help the younger man claimed to offer wasn’t what he needed. Not just yet. All the closed doors of his memory were still shut to him and he preferred it that way for now.

 

“Well all I can say is… if you weren’t worried… then there is really something wrong with you.”

 

Steve looked incredulous at him as Bo replaced the file back on top of the others on his desk. His gaze lingered on it a second longer before he finally looked away. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

 

“Knowing you… you won’t feel better unless Kayla was here. “

 

“You got that right bro. You got that right.” He said with a slight grin then walked back to his desk, while Bo snickered at his back.

 

 

**********

 

 

 

The lights were all out as he entered his apartment early that evening. Elliot had expected his cousin to be at home, but considering the silence that greeted him again, he only needed one guess to know where the man was spending his time. Taking off his jacket and draping it over the back of a chair, he took the overseas packaged that arrived earlier and worked on the sealed binding. Using the letter opener, he cut at the packaging tape and sliced clean through until the flaps opened up and he could retrieve the papers inside.

 

Mr. Mills had been prompt in sending his the change in ownership papers as soon as they cleared the court. So legally, he was now the owner of all the Estate, surrounding properties and his father’s considerable fortune. It all had been accomplished with such small fanfare that he hardly felt the change in his status. Now he was officially an Earl and it mattered not one bit to him. The piles of papers were laid out and he only gave each a cursory glance before placing them to the side.

 

His mind kept wandering to where Benjamin and Stephanie were that evening. At least a good portion of the day had been wasted as he would pick up his phone to call only to catch himself from proceeding. Since talking with Steve Johnson, Elliot had spent a great deal of time at his office, sorting out his work and clearing his schedule so he could leave in a few days. The idea of going back felt so uninviting and he was beginning to wonder why he would even bother. Neither John Black nor Steve Johnson had paid him the smallest courtesy in the past weeks.

 

The thought that he should pull up and return home was rapidly becoming an option, but something or rather someone was prompting him to stay. Considering the fact that Stephanie was actually living in Europe for now, should have made him more desirous to move back to London.

Traveling throughout Europe would be easier of his departure point was the UK rather than the States. But he was choosing to remain and the reason behind it all came down to a promise he made to his father. That promise ended with his mother’s death, and still he had stayed.

 

Since her death, he had only ventured once to visit her house. The need to get the music box was her last request for him and he complied though completely unaware of the circumstances behind it. During all the summers he spent there, he had wanted nothing more than to leave at the earliest opportunity and now, he found himself going there, standing on her front steps, but still not entering.

 

He found no pleasure in his trips there, but he felt compelled to visit and it bothered him. Benjamin had offered on more than one occasion to go inside with him, but he always turned him down. The actual day he would re-enter, Elliot would rather go alone than have an audience. He wasn’t fearful, yet he wasn’t eager either. His feelings were bordering on curiosity as though he expected answers. What those four walls held for him were sad, lonely memories he could not banish.

 

Pushing aside such thought, he tried to concentrate once more on the next group of papers. Mr. Mills had kindly included a copy of his father’s Will. The structure and format were all familiar and he barely gave it a secondary thought. As he passed through each long, drawn out page listing various properties and monies, he chanced upon a single sheet not attached to the others, but kept separate.

 

“Codicil, amendment, dated June 10, 1993.” Elliot frowned at the actual appearance of the document and wondered why one would even be drawn up in the first place. Who else would inherit the estate if not him?

 

Reading further down, his eyes widened at what the amendment was drawn up for and for the first time, wondered if something was hidden from him when he was a child.

 

“This Codicil will remain valid for the period of time within a one year span from June 10, 1993 to June 10, 1994, at which time it will expire if the following circumstances are not met or complied with. Should Elliot Lansing fail to live pass his twelfth year, all monies, properties and personal effects as were previously mentioned and willed to him upon the death of his father will in turn be inherited by Benjamin Hawk DiMera upon the death of his uncle Greyson Toller Lansing. Should events transpire where such changes are not necessary, then this amendment will cease to be necessary and valid and will expire one year hence from the date above.”

 

The first thoughts that ran through his mind were that Benjamin was also in line to inherit his father’s fortune. But the pressing matter at hand was the idea that he would have died at twelve years of age and his father made provisions if such had happened. The question now was what happened to him when he was twelve? The memories of his childhood then were always linked to the day he was told that summers from that time on would be spent at his mother’s home.

 

Each year he was shipped off to Salem and spent three months living with the stranger he politely called mother. There was no warmth between them and he had avoided any kind of contact with her if he could possibly help it. But the point was he went there every year, like clockwork until he entered University and stopped his visits. His first visit was during the summer of his twelfth year and he would spend the rest of the year trying to forgive what had happened during the summer.

 

Elliot sat back in contemplation that his father possibly feared for his life as he was out of his reach during those short months. But the idea that he would draw up such a document and for a one year period was baffling. “Why just that year?” He asked aloud. Getting to his feet, Elliot paced around the room, in deep concentration at the strangeness of this discovery. He suddenly reached for his phone, thinking to call his cousin with the hope he could shed some light on the matter, but he stopped himself before making such a call.

 

Benjamin would have been a child himself and wouldn’t have been acquainted with such unless he became the sole heir. If not Benjamin then who, his father’s servants perhaps. He checked the hour then and realized how late it would be in Devon now. The more he thought on the matter, the more one single name popped up at him. Mr. Mills, the family solicitor and the man who would have drawn up the amendment in the first place. With the lateness of the hour Elliot would have hesitated in contacting anyone else, but the man was known for keeping staying past normal business hours.

 

The phone rang just three times before it was answered on the receiving end. Elliot realized how awkward his questioning may sound, but this was a matter he couldn’t ignore though it happened over a dozen years ago.

 

“Mr. Mills here.”

 

“Mr. Mills, this is Elliot Lansing calling.”

 

“Yes Mr. Lansing. Good evening.”

 

“Thank you.” He answered him politely then took a seat. “I apologize for the late call but I only now had the opportunity to go through the papers you’ve sent.”

“I quite understand. I hope everything is in order?”

 

“Yes, it is and I thank you again for the speed in which you were able to clear this matter through.

 

There was no need to see the satisfied expression on Lansing’s face to know any extra effort made solidified his position as the family solicitor for at least another generation. “Consider it part of the services which we are always ready and willing to extend to our clients.”

 

Elliot could sense the groveling from where he sat hundreds of miles away, but he was quite familiar with Mills and saw no occasion to call him up on the unnecessary pretensions. “Let me get to the matter at hand then.” He told him and took hold of the Codicil. “I found included in my father’s will a Codicil.”

 

There was a moment of silence of the line until Mills’ old voice sounded again. “Yes… I expected you would call about that. I supposed it came as bit of a shock?”

 

“I wouldn’t say shock, but I was… am surprised. Perhaps you can explain to me why it was drawn up in the first place. It seems a bit mysterious in some ways.”

 

“Actually there is nothing mysterious about it. You were seriously injured as a child and there was a strong possibility you would have died. Your father, made the necessary changes in his Will should that have happened.”

 

For a moment Elliot remained silent pondering what the elderly man could have been referring too. Though he chose to forget a great deal about his childhood, he certainly would have remembered being injured to the pint of death. Something wasn’t right here. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage here. I have no recollection whatsoever of being ill as a child much the less being at death’s door.”

 

“And you wouldn’t have remembered, though I had thought perhaps the memories would eventually come to you.”

 

“Once again… you have lost me Mr. Mills. What would I have possibly remembered?”

 

“That you had a heart transplant.”

 

The words came rushing at him as Elliot sat perfectly still. In all the things he imagined the old man to tell him, this was the furthest from his mind. Unconsciously his hand moved and rubbed at the line of hardened skin on his chest and a fleeting memory of his mother crying above him filled his thoughts and as the phone fell from his grasp and landed on his lap.

 

“Mr. Lansing? Hello? Are you still there? Mr. Lansing?”

 

Picking up the phone, Elliot found his hand shaking as he placed it back against his ear. “Yes… I’m still here. I’m sorry but I wasn’t expecting…?

“No… it’s I who should apologize. I shouldn’t have said it like that. I should have been more careful with my words.”

 

“I don’t believe there’s any way to say it without causing shock.”

 

“I just thought… it’s been so many years… I would have believed you would eventually remember what happened.”

 

Shaking his head, Elliot gripped the phone tightly and let out a held breath. He hadn’t even realized he held it in until he was forced to exhale. “I have no memories.” He told him then realized it wasn’t exactly true. There was the one of his mother watching him and he saw her crying, the tears streaming from her face as she told him she would do everything to help him get better. It was one of the few times he saw the calm expression missing and replaced with real live emotions.

 

He envisioned her in his mind and realized he was recalling a moment from his youth as Portia was still quite young in them. Once again he fingered the line at his chest, running his finger along the length before pausing and pulling his fingers away as though burnt by the touch. “Is there anything you can tell me about what happened? Was I born with a bad heart?”

 

“No… not that. It was an accident.”

 

“What type of accident?”

 

“You were shot… and the one who shot you… he died instead.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A Patch of Sweetness

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