Stefan watched her walk in. After their phone conversation, he wasn't sure if she would actually meet with him. He stood as she came to the table. He moved to pull out her chair. She nodded, a polite thank you escaping her lips. Stefan returned to his own chair.

"Thank you for coming. I didn't think you would."

"Why not?" Florence Taggert asked, obviously annoyed. "I said I would. Do I strike you as the kind of person who would break my word?"

"I don't know you well enough to make that assessment. Do you wish to order first?"

Florence took a sip of water. "No, why don't you tell me why I'm here, first. I might not be here long enough to eat. You've never really struck me as the kind of person I would want to dine with, anyway."

Stefan's lip set in a hard line. "And why is that?"

"I've heard things-"

"Do you always believe all the things you hear?"

"When they're true."

"What makes you think anything that you have heard about me is true, Mrs. Taggert?"

"Can you prove that they're not?"

"Why would I feel the need to prove anything to you?"

"Why wouldn't you? You called me. You wanted to meet with me."

Stefan folded his hands on the table. "I did, but only so I could ask you a few questions."

"Maybe I don't want to answer your questions."

"Then why did you come?"

"Because I said I would. And I never break my word."

"Why did you give your word in the first place? When I called, you could have declined."

"Because I wanted to know what you wanted."

"If you want to know what I want, then why are you being so difficult?"

"I can't help myself. It's my nature to be prickly."

"Mine, too," Stefan smiled, lifting his wine glass to his lips. "People say it's my most annoying trait."

"I can see why. I've been here for ten minutes and we haven't  discussed anything of substance."

"Are you sure you don't want to order? The waiter is growing impatient."

"So? He'll wait until we're ready. It's called customer service," Florence said, turning in her chair to see their server eyeing them evilly as Stefan waved him away.

"Prickly, prickly, prickly."

"Prickly is as prickly does."

Stefan took another sip of wine. Perhaps this was a mistake. This conversation was going nowhere. Yet, he had to admit that Gia's mother was an interesting woman. "I called you. I wanted to talk about Nikolas and Gia's relationship."

"What about it?"

"Is this the union you wished for your daughter?"

"No. I had other plans for Gia, but she didn't agree with them. I would assume that a man such as yourself would feel similarly."

"A man such as myself? What does that mean?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you want me to tell you the truth or make up some politically correct lie."

"Truth."

Florence leaned back in her chair. She crossed her arms across her chest as she studied him thoroughly. "I have a tendency to make snap judgments about people. Those judgments are seldom wrong. The first time I met you, at the Nurse's Ball, I knew exactly who you were. Some over-privileged, arrogant, pompous, elitist, whack-job with too much money, too much ego, and too much free time to meddle in other's lives. I see this and I know that I was right. You want me to help you meddle, don't you? If I don't want Nikolas and Gia together, than it stands to reason that I will help you in whatever stupid scheme you've got cooking."

"I'm insulted!"

"Why? Because I called you an over-privileged, arrogant, pompous, elitist, whack-job with too much money, too much ego, and too much free time to meddle in other's lives?"

"No. For the insinuation that I would need any help to 'meddle'. I am fully capable of executing my scheme without assistance. In case you didn't know, I am an expert in covert operating."

"Well, bully for you! You can ruin lives all by yourself. Great! Now, will you finally tell me what you want? You're wasting my time."

"Am I to assume that you have better things to do?" Stefan smirked.

"Don't you? I would think that that fashion designer of yours is high maintenance."

"It depends on your definition..."

"Do you ever say what you mean?"

"Do you ever not say anything? OR not answer a question with a question? OR listen to anything that anyone else has to say?"

"Nope. I find that I'm usually right anyway."

"We have more in common than I thought."

Florence leaned forward, taking the napkin and wiping a spot off of the fork in front of her. "We're both prickly know-it-alls. How interesting. I guess our children are form a support group."

Stefan smiled. An image filled his head of Nikolas standing in front a large group of people. Aloud, he said, imitating his nephew, "My name is Nikolas and I was raised by an overbearing, controlling-"

"Don't forget pompous, arrogant-"

"Whack-job!"

"I wouldn't have forgotten that one. Oh boy, I can see it in my head. 'My name is Gia and I was raised by an overbearing, controlling'-"

"Prickly, difficult, annoying, obnoxious-"

"That's enough, Mr. Cassadine! I get the hint," Florence laughed, taking a sip of water. "Our kids had it rough, huh? All of those expectations."

"All I ever wanted was for Nikolas to be happy...happy living his life the way I think he should live it, but happy nonetheless."

"Exactly! They could spare themselves so much pain if they just listened to reason. Did as they were told. Stayed in school..."

"I had hoped Nikolas would attend a University. Instead he became L&B's official spin doctor. Needless to say, I was disappointed."

"I know how you feel. I wanted Gia to be a lawyer. I don't know how she'll get anywhere in life this way. Working a low-paying job in a little crumb of a town."

Stefan sighed knowingly. "How did I get stuck in this town?"

"I've been asking myself the same thing for close to a year now. It's like a roach motel."

"A roach motel?"

"What's wrong?  No infestation problems for the continental elite?"

"Roaches?" Stefan closed his eyes in disgust. "I don't want to discuss those things."

"Stefan Cassadine is afraid of a little roach?"

"Afraid is the wrong word. Repulsed would be better. The ones in Greece are huge."

"Ah...so you are not so far removed from the peasants."

Stefan smiled again. "Are you sure you don't want to eat? Suddenly, I am famished."

"Actually, I don't think I would mind. I am far more hungry than I thought, “Florence grinned. They called the waiter over and ordered. They spent the next hour talking and never did get around to why they had met in the first place.

~*~  ~*~  ~*~

"So," Taggert said, pacing behind Mac's desk, "when was the last time any of you saw Emily?"

Nikolas, Gia, Lucky, and Elizabeth all sat side by side on the sofa in the commissioner’s office. Gia had been feeling sick ever since they had received the summons to come. For the past three months, the police had been asking the same questions over and over. She was getting tired of it. The guilt was killing her slowly. Now and then, she would become physically ill from the circumstances of her life.

Helena's blackmailing, the secrets, the lies, EMILY....

It was just too much to bear sometimes. And now, she was stuck in an office, forced to repeat the same things.

Elizabeth spoke." I told you that I saw here several hours before...before what happened. She was anxious. She said something about life finally coming around...or something like that. I didn't quite get that. She told me that she knew her life was about to hit an upswing. I was excited for her. Emily had been so miserable since Juan left on tour. I thought she might have a new guy."

Yeah, we know what *new guy* she had in mind, Gia thought bitterly.

"Did she mention any names?" Taggert asked.

"No, she just said she had to go. Lucky offered her a ride and then they left."

"She left with Lucky?"

Lucky, who was diligently slouching, sat up. "We're not about to play PIN THE BLAME ON THE SPENCER, are we? I'm not up to it."

Taggert hid a smile. "Where did you take her?"

"At first she told me to take her to L&B and then she changed her mind and had me drop her off at a music store on Willcrest  Avenue. She didn't want me to wait so I left. She said Reginald was going to pick her up."

Taggert nodded, jotting a few notes down on a pad of paper. "Willcrest Avenue?"

"Yeah."

"Did you see her that night, Gia?"

Gia jumped, spurred out of her own thoughts. "Huh?"

"I asked if you saw Emily the night she was murdered?"

"What have you heard?"

Everyone looked at Gia strangely. Nikolas placed a hand on her thigh. "Why are you so jumpy?"

"I..I don't like thinking about Emily being murdered. It's a scary thought that someone I know was so brutally murdered," Gia replied hesitantly.

Elizabeth agreed with her, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "I don't even want to walk the docks anymore."

"It's okay, Elizabeth," Lucky said, pulling her into his arms.

Taggert pressed on. "Did you see Emily, Gia?"

"No, why would I? We weren't really friends."

"She was at the music store on Willcrest."

"So?" Nikolas replied, wrapping a protective arm around Gia's shoulder.

"So, Gia lives on Willcrest. I thought maybe she stopped by for a moment."

She stopped by. Pulled out a tape. Ruined my life. Wasn't even good at blackmailing. Not compared to Helena. Poor Emily. Playing with fire.  It's no wonder she ended up dead.

"Gia!" Taggert demanded.

"Chill, Marcus," Gia replied, trying to focus her thoughts away from the internal dialog she had just sunk into." NO. Emily didn't stop by. I hadn't seen her in days. We pretty much avoided each other."

"You guys can go," he said. After they left, Taggert went into conference with Mac. He leaned against the wall, saying, "I talked to the kids again. There wasn't really anything new. Lucky mentioned that he gave her a lift only hours before her death."

"To the music store, right?"

"Yeah, but he was more specific this time. He said the one on Willcrest."

"Hmmm...there is something that we're overlooking. I know we can find Emily's murderer. This person is probably right under our noses. If we could only place that thread that they found on the body."

Taggert ran a hand over his bald head. "It's a thread and not a hair, now?"

"That's the new theory. Some sort of synthetic fiber they can't place. It has to be a clue."

"It's the only clue."

"Not the only one, Detective. I think we need to retrace all of Emily's steps those last couple of days. Start on Willcrest Avenue. Someone had to see where Emily went after Lucky dropped her off."

"I'll get on it, Mac. Whoever killed Emily had better start running. I feel like we're going to get this sucker." ~*~  ~*~  ~*~

End of chapter Twelve, Please e-mail any feedback by clicking on the mailbox below :)

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