Author's Note: This is an Alexis, Samlexis, Julexis, Davis girls-ish, Cassadine story. That said, the Davis girls don't appear until chapter 3. In short, this is not a Kiki fic :)

The black patent leather stilettos were in the back of her old closet at her father's place. As she selected the rest of the evening's ensemble she weighed the importance of each piece to the finished outfit, with one eye focused on the clock. Approaching the end of her make-shift fashion show, she thought of her shoes. Approximately twenty-five minutes to get to the abandoned pair, twenty-five minutes to get back home. Add another fifteen of idle chitchat if the wife was there. After completing the mental calculations, she realized she had enough time to get the shoes, get dressed, and set up the romantic rendezvous she was planning with time to spare. The effort seemed too much until she remembered his reaction the last time she wore the shoes; she hadn't been able to move for 30 minutes after the sex they had. Her memory made the argument for her, and she grabbed the keys.

There was an odd glow of colors emanating from his street, and as she turned the corner onto his block she noted the source of the illumination: three police cars and an ambulance in front of her father's building. She was mildly curious at all the excitement, slightly worried that their neighbor on the second floor—the one who took the stairs with her groceries scoffing at both the elevator and her eight or so decades on this earth—may have seen her body succumb finally to her hubris. Momentarily distracted by the coroner's truck that nearly ran her down (and frankly lacking the mental wherewithal to recognize the irony), Lauren needed a few moments to see individuals in the assembled crowd and realize that the hysterical woman talking to her former brother-in-law was that nurse, Rosalie. And that the stains that merely darkened her maroon scrubs were most likely sourced from the same viscous substance that had stained her hands a dark red: blood.

Lauren moved with more urgency until she saw a uniform—any uniform. She grabbed a police officer and asked what happened. The policeman repeated the rote message he had delivered to all the curious tenants of the building, "We are investigating a possible crime. We have nothing to add at this time. Please get behind the yellow tape." In a haze, Lauren moved behind the tape, her eyes searching for Dante's partner—the cop that tried to remove the squatters from her dilapidated brownstone-Nathan was his name. He would talk to her.

-"I heard three pops."

-"Donna said she heard running passed her door."

-"That's where the woman in the wheelchair is, right?"

-"They told us all to stay in our apartments then they made us all leave. I mean, make up your minds. I've got three dozen cupcakes to make for tomorrow-gluten free"

-"Wow. The coroner's truck is here. Do you think it was it him or her?"

-"I heard it was both."

Lauren focused on the din around her, finally understanding that whatever happened probably happened in her father's apartment. She felt the bile rising in her throat. She quickly looked back at Rosalie. Her hysteria was oddly comforting—that nurse hated Silas and would never be this upset if he were injured. Clearly Nina was a victim. But where *was* her father? She scanned the crowd again, looking for the oncologist but this time found that cop Nathan. She burst through the line and grabbed him.

-"My father-he lives on the fourth floor. Is he ok?" Her voice got higher as she started talking faster. "Is it his wife? Did something happen to Nina?"

Nathan looked at her and took a moment to process what she was saying. "I'm not…I'm not working right now. You'll need to talk to someone else." He turned to leave, his dismissive, puzzled and passionless tone infuriating her as she called to his back, "Hey! That's my father's apartment. And you're not going to tell me anything?"

He turned to look at her, his big puppy dog eyes glistening, "Kiki. It's also my sister's apartment. Remember?"

Humiliated by her mistake, she grabbed for his arm. "Nathan," she stammered. I'm so very, very sorry. I just…I just forgot. I'm a bit panicky at the moment. Is Nina OK? Is Silas OK?"

Nathan looked at her and choked out, "My name is James." He turned and walked away from her into the foyer of the building.

Lauren stood confused, not processing much. A clipped British voice called to her, "Ms. Jerome? May I have a word?" The police commissioner guided Lauren by the elbow into the foyer and sat her down in one of the sofas created to be bold in design but not comfort.

-"Ms. Jerome. I have a few questions for you, if that's ok." Taking Lauren's wide-eyed stare as assent, she plowed forward. "When was the last time you spoke with your father?"

-"What did he tell you?" Some innate Jerome gene finally broke through to make itself known. "You know you can't question him without a lawyer present. Has he called his lawyer? Alexis Davis helped him last time. Is she here?"

-"She is not here, Ms. Jerome, and we haven't questioned your father." Anna's soothing tone was buoyed by the fact that she was being honest. Years as a double-agent had taught her that being misleading wasn't really lying. "Can you tell me the last time you spoke with him?"

-"Two days ago."

-"Two days ago. OK. And what was the nature of your conversation?"

-"I…" Lauren hesitated. What did they talk about? Something about Alice and… RAFE. They had talked about Rafe. "I saw him at the hospital. We talked about my cousin, Rafe. My dad said that they'd discovered someone had made him run that family off the road."

-"I see." Anna took a pause, stopping herself from adding 'my family.' She composed herself, recognizing she probably only had one question left before Lauren's shock would wear off and she would ask about her father. "Did your father say if he knew who that person was?"

-"No. He didn't. I think he was going to try and get Sam to help him." Lauren paused for a moment. Her eyes welled with tears seconds before her mind focused on what the Commissioner wasn't saying. "Commissioner, where is my father? Where is Nina?"

Anna looked at the girl and took a deep breath. "Ms. Jerome, at 4:47 pm this afternoon, we received a call to 9-1-1 from neighbors who heard noises coming from your father's apartment. Five minutes later we received a second 9-1-1 call from Rosalie Martinez, your stepmother's nurse. We arrived within 10 minutes of Rosalie's call." Anna paused at the sob that came from Kiki's throat. It cut through the foyer and heads turned to look at Anna and the girl. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Jerome. When we arrived, we found your father, Silas Clay, and his wife, Nina, dead. We are treating this as a crime scene."

The tears fell down Lauren's face, and she waited for Anna's pause before the second sob crawled its way out, followed by all the others waiting in a line in her throat to escape. Anna instinctively embraced the girl, soothing her with a clucking noise that she had used so long ago to quiet her own daughter.

As the sobs paused, Anna looked at Lauren and asked, "Is there anyone you can call?"

-"I can call Michael"

-"Ok. Do you need a phone? You can use mine if—"

-"No. I have mine" As Lauren pulled out her phone, she paused briefly. "Am I free to leave, Commissioner?" she asked quietly.

Anna eyed the girl, an edge of wariness staking out a position next to the compassion in her eyes. "I know this is difficult, but we have a number of questions to ask so we can find who did this to your father. The first hours after a crime are so important."

-"I understand Commissioner. I just—" Lauren struggled for the right words. "I know this is going to be on the news. And there are people who loved my father—they shouldn't find out on the news."

Anna recognized she had no grounds to hold the girl. But she couldn't risk her leaving and informing family and friends—one of whom was most likely the killer based purely on the laws of probability...and Silas and Nina's known social circles. "I would prefer if you waited here, Ms. Jerome. Or if it's too crazy here for you, I can have Det. Falconieri escort you to the station. Any or all of your loved ones are welcome to meet us there."

-"But am I a suspect, Commissioner? Because if I'm not I'm pretty sure I can leave." Anna sighed. She highly doubted that this dilettante who couldn't even shoot her mouth off properly could have shot the two upstairs. But she couldn't risk her warning the actual killer. Then again, the killer knew they'd found the body. It would be all over the local news which currently airing. Point of fact: a few of the TV vans outside were now flanked by spotlight-covered personalities delivering live reports from the "grisly downtown double murder." Weighing her options, Anna decided letting Lauren leave now would do little damage and may make her more cooperative later.

-"You are not a suspect as of this moment," Anna conceded. "But in the interest of finding the killer as quickly as possible, I ask that you meet me at the PCPD later this evening, so we can figure out who may have wanted your father and his wife dead."

The timeline seemed fair to Lauren. She wanted to catch the killer as badly as the police did. Well…maybe she did. She stood up…too quickly and almost fell down again. Anna looked at her with concern. "Are you sure you want to leave? Should we take you to the hospital, Ms. Jerome? You're in shock."

-"No." Lauren answered, "I'll be fine." Recognizing the same symptoms as Anna, Lauren leaned against the building to stay upright as she pulled up her Uber-app, giving a pickup address that was a block down the street. She had seven minutes to pull herself together and walked down to the coffeeshop to wait for her ride.