A/N

Guess what?

I've been Writing!

I know! Can you stand it?

I can't believe it either. Oh and the update today is for Where Were You? - Chapter are going to be winding this one down soon.

I know I've been away for some time and all I can say is I'm sorry and thank you for staying with me. I've had a very busy year and I'm hoping that I'll be able to continue writing a lot more.

Thank you again to Kleannhouse for her Fantastic Beta skills and as always - my partner in crime - Sephrenia1.

Now, please, let me know what you think of this chapter :)

LOTS OF LOVE!

Chapter 30 - Done

SPOV

"Thank you for all you've done for us today, Octavia," I say with a smile. "We'd have been lost without you."

"Now you don't worry about it at all, my sweet," she comes over and puts her hands on both sides of my face.

"I can't tell you how happy I am that he brought you here," she looks around the main room of Eric's mid-town apartment. "It will put life back into this place."

She smiles and wished me a goodnight again and leaves for the evening.

After we returned from the funeral, we all decided to head into the city for dinner. Since the whole family is heading to the Literary and Media banquet tomorrow night, Abbie and Edwin are staying in the suite that they frequently used when in the city. Eric and I had offered for them to come stay with us but they thought it would be best if Eric and I were alone tonight.

"It's your first night at the apartment, dear," Abbie smiled at me. "You should all enjoy it as a family. There will be plenty of times for us to come and stay with you.

Eric and I protested but in the end Abbie put her foot down like only a mother can.

Damn, I am a mother and that works on me.

Looking around the room, I can't help but smile as I hear Maddi talking to Claudine about everything. Turning, I see Eric looking out the window.

"Are you okay?" I ask him as I move across the room to stand with him.

Turning, he smiles and opens his arms and I walk right into them.

"I'm better than okay," he says and kisses my forehead and holds me close.

We both hear Maddi giggle.

I look up at my love and wait a moment until his gaze trails down to meet mind.

"Are you sure you are alright with Maddi using that room," I motion with my head. "You have three other guest rooms. We can outfit one of those for her. She doesn't…"

"She is exactly where she is supposed to be, Sookie," he says. "That room is for a little girl and you know as well as I do that Maddi is just as much mine as Claudine was."

"I don't want you to be sad," I say to him. "If any of this becomes too much, just tell me, please."

"Everything is perfect," he squeezes me. "Maddi is our little girl and that room has been changed out for her. In time, I'm sure she will want to change it up and get rid of all the little girly stuff. That, by the way, will be a day from hell for me."

I laugh a little. The day that Maddi decides she isn't a little girl anymore will be a hard day for both of us.

"Well," I look down for a minute. "Maybe by then we will have another girl or two or maybe a little boy that will cushion the blow."

Eric puts his fingers under my chin and motions for me to look at him.

"That my love will be the greatest gift you ever give me," he kisses my deeply for a minute or two before pulling away with a smile.

"Well, we will have to work on that," I look back to the hallway hearing another laugh from our girl. "She is growing so fast."

"Won't hear any arguments from me," he says. "I am ready when you are. Seeing you carrying my child will be the most beautiful, sexiest thing I'd ever encountered."

I look back to him and smile. How is it this man can melt me with everything he says.

"Come on," he moves away from the window with another look, "let's go get Maddi ready for bed. She's had a long day and so have we."

I sigh and nod. It's been a long, strange day.

The funeral really wasn't what I'd been to in the past. Oh sure, we all new that this was more Elizabeth's doing than Bill's but I didn't expect the, well, the theatrics that were put on.

Over the past few weeks, I heard stories about the relationship Lorena had not only with her husband but with her in-laws and the rest of the family.

It's sad but there really wasn't any relationship to speak of. Though you never know what goes on behind closed doors, by all accounts, Bill and Lorena's relationship was very, well, sterile.

Her relationship with the rest of the family was non-existent and for most of her marriage to Bill, Lorena's relationship with Elizabeth and Edward was strained.

So, why would anyone think that Elizabeth would put on such a show of emotional upheaval is beyond me.

I didn't know any of them at all and I was embarrassed for the rest of the family. Sitting there you could tell that everyone was put off by Elizabeth's wailing and outcries. Though Edward and Edwin both attempted to have her leave to collect herself she wouldn't budge saying she couldn't leave her sweet girl alone.

Bill sat over by himself and didn't say a word about his mother's performance. Oh, he accepted condolences with a modicum of interest but for the most part, he sat stoically and waited for the whole thing to be done with.

There weren't many others besides the family and close friends of Elizabeth in attendance. There were no representatives from Lorena's firm or any of her friends.

I'd found that rather sad.

"Hey," Eric says pulling me out of my thoughts. "Where did you go?"

I shake my head. "Just thinking about today," I shrug. "It was really sad."

"I know," he nods. "I never liked the woman and I certainly didn't appreciate how she attempted to interject herself in matters of the company but I'd never wish what happened to her on anyone," he pauses. "Well, almost anyone. But still, it was sad."

"She didn't have any friends," I say softly. "I think that is the saddest part. No one really came to mourn her passing."

"I know," he says turning me so that we are both looking out the window. "I was headed that way," he says softly.

I shake my head. "No. Your family loves you."

"But I pushed everyone else away," he says pulling me tighter to his chest. "I would have ended up alone and sad."

"Well," I turn and look up to see him. "You are not sad or alone and you have all of us now."

"I have you to thank for that," he says. "You and the doodlebug. Without you two in my life, I'd still be lost."

"We found each other, Eric," I say. "I was just as lost."

We stand there for a moment just looking over the skyline as the night descends on the city.

"Speaking of the doodlebug," I say. "We better get her going or we won't ever get to sleep tonight."

"And I have plans for you tonight, my love," he looks down at me with a heated gaze.

"You have plans for me every night," I laugh at him.

"Got to get started on all those little ones you were talking about," he laughs as he takes my hand and leads me down the hall to our little girl's new room.

Bill's POV

Sitting down on the couch facing the window, I close my eyes instead of taking in the wonderful view of Central Park.

Taking a sip of my drink I can't seem to put the day out of my head and looking at the perfect view that Lorena simply had to have brings back memories and feelings I wish to push aside after the fiasco of a day my mother put together.

All I wanted was to bury her, quietly; without attention or fanfare. It would have been the right and congenial thing to do. My mother however had different ideas. When I broached the subject with her she simply refused to listen. After everything that Lorena has done and is continuing to do to us, you would think that Elizabeth Compton would want the whole ordeal left out of the spotlight instead of shining it on all of us.

"Fucking circus, it was," I growl and take another sip of my drink. "The whole thing was a damn show."

The question is, who was the show for?

It isn't like Lorena was ever in the news other than for a case she'd won. She wasn't in the mix with Eric and all his friends. We never went out or to events unless the family insisted. There was no reason for mother to have such a fantastical funeral for a woman she could barely stand to be in the same room with on a good day.

Taking another sip, I finally open my eyes and look around the room taking in all the boxes that have been packed and placed in strategic areas around the room waiting to be collected by the moving people tomorrow. The only reason that the moving crew stopped packing yesterday was because of the funeral today. They thought they were being respectful. Personally, I'd have been okay to have them keep going and I'd have even stayed to supervise. It wasn't like I had to be at the funeral anyway. No one would have even noticed if I wasn't there with all the carrying on my mother was doing.

Standing, I head back over to the counter to refill my glass when my phone rings.

Pulling it out, I see that it's my father. I don't really want to hear what he or my mother has to say but with everything so up in the air as it is with the Lorena's mess, I literally can't afford to not talk to him.

"Hello," I say.

"Before you say anything," he begins without preamble or pleasantries, "I've no idea what was up with your mother. She has been an emotional wreck since the whole thing began, Bill. All I can say is that perhaps she's in shock or something."

"Maybe you should take her to a doctor," I say as I take a large gulp on my scotch.

Or maybe we should admit her to the psych ward but I'll never say that to him. I don't think he would get the joke.

"She's," he sighs. "She's resting."

That's code for she either passed out or he gave her a pill. Either way, I wish he had done that before the horror show that was the funeral.

Again, of course I don't say that.

"I have some news," he says. "We will be able to null and void Lorena's lean on your accounts as well as several others. The Accounting firm I hired found a few places that Lorena has hid some money. None are from the funds that are missing from Hurwitz, Johnson and Crow but they are funds that she has siphoned off of us. So that will help some. The apartment, however is a lost cause."

"I'm moving anyway," I say to him. "The place is almost packed up completely."

"You aren't moving in with…" he begins.

"No," I say. "Judith is still under investigation and is refusing to say where she went the night of the murder. The authorities are looking into her too. I'm not even sure if Judith is her real name."

"I'm sorry, Son," he says. "What are you going to do?"

"I still have the apartment I lived in before Lorena and I got married. I had sublet it to a few kids near Columbia. I guess Lorena forgot about it or she would have probably mortgaged or sold it. Either way, it doesn't matter. It's empty since school got out. I'm going to stay there until I can figure out what else to do."

"All your stuff," he pauses. "What will you…"

"According to the District Attorney who is overseeing the case, I can't get rid of Lorena's things until they have concluded their investigation. I've boxed up any and all her papers and items from her office. Hurwitz is fighting with the DA's office to see who gets to go through them first. Evidently, he is certain that Lorena had things at home regarding cases and with all the messes they are trying to clean up, they want first crack at it."

"What are you going to do?" he asks me.

"I'm putting it in storage and letting them fight it out. It really doesn't concern me, Dad. All I want to do is get on with my life and make a fresh start if I can. I'm actually thinking of leaving the publishing company as soon as all my affairs have been dealt with."

I take another gulp as I listen to my father explain to me that I need my family around me now. That leaving would just look like I had something to hide. That I needed to stay and face all of this and continue to be a part of the family.

I listen without actually saying anything. I've made up my mind. I'm an adult and I really don't need his permission. The only thing that he could hold over my head would be my trust fund and I got full control over that several years ago.

It doesn't matter anyway. I don't really care about the money. I never did.

In the middle of my father's speech, I hear my buzzer.

"Dad," I say. "I need to go. There's someone at the door."

"Who would be coming to see you at this time of night?" he asks.

I look at the clock. It's barely 9 but I guess to my father, that's late.

"I don't know but I'll talk to you soon," I pause. "Thank you for all you've done to salvage what's left of my life."

"I'm your father," he says. "That's what we do for our children."

We say goodnight quickly and I go to open the door.

"Yes?" I ask seeing two men standing on my doorstep.

"Good evening, Mr. Compton," one of them says. "We are sorry to come so late but there has been a development in your wife's murder and we need to ask you a few questions."

"You are?" I ask.

"Sorry," one says. "I'm Captain Sam Baker," he motions to the other man. "This is Special Federal Attorney Magnus Perillo," he pauses. "We work with the Capital Crime division."

They both show me identification. Once I've looked at both of them, I motion for them to come in.

"Can I get you gentleman anything?" I ask.

"No thank you, Mr. Compton," the one named Perillo said. "We will try to make this as quick as we can."

I nod and motion for them to take a seat on the couch to my right.

"I take this has something to do with Lorena?" I ask them.

"It does and I understand that you just returned from the funeral," Baker pauses.

"It's quite alright, gentlemen," I say with a wave of my hand. "I would like to get all of this cleared up and taken care of as quickly as possible."

"I see," Baker says and then looks at Perillo.

"You say you're from Capital Crimes? What has your division interested in Lorena?" I ask. "I was under the impression that Capital Crimes has to do with a specific type of crime?"

Perillo in turn clears his throat. "That is true," he says. "We have, well," he pauses. "It would seem that your wife has been doing a great deal more than embezzling money."

I nod. "I am aware of the court cases and the medical examiner."

"Yes, on that," Perillo says. "There is a common theme to the cases that Lorena was taking and working with the ME to fix."

"I suspect you are here to inform me of this?" I ask.

"Mr. Compton," Baker says. "What do you know about Appius Ocella?"

"I," I clear my throat and take a drink of my scotch. "Only what I've heard in the news and read on line. I believe that he is some sort of business man?"

"Mr. Compton, it would appear that both Judith Vardamon and your wife have connections with Appius and Alexi Ocella," he says looking at me directly in the eyes.

"Come again?" I ask.

"We have reason to believe that both of them were working in different capacities for the Ocella family," Baker says. "We have brought Miss Vardamon in for questioning and informed her of our findings. She is willing to cooperate."

"I….I don't understand," I say softly.

"Sir," Baker leans forward. "Are you aware that Miss Vardamon has a brother?"

I shake my head. I didn't really know anything about her family.

"Well, Miss Vardamon's brother is allegedly tied to the Ocella's organization," Perillo says.

"Tied," I pause. "Tied how?"

"We are still investigating that but it would seem that Miss Vardamon's brother has close connection to Ocella and is wanted in connection with several homicides up and down the east coast," he responds. "We are in the process of locating him with connections to your wife's murder."

I stand and back away from the couch. "Are you saying that Judith had my wife killed?" I ask.

"No Sir," Baker says. "We believe that Miss Vardamon was sent in as someone to infiltrate Viking Publishing. You were just a way for her to get close to those who are running the firm. At least, that is what she has said so far. She knew of her brother's connection to your wife but it was secondary to her objective."

"Objective," I growl. "I was an objective?"

"No Sir," Baker looks again to Perillo and then back to me. "Miss Vardamon's intended target was Eric Northman."

I close my eyes for a moment and wait for the world to disappear.

First my wife and then my mistress betray me, my family and my company.

I want it all to be over.

I want it to be done.

EPOV

I look around the bedroom seeing a few of Sookie's things on the dresser and that alone makes me smile.

I'll admit that I got a bit emotional earlier this evening. I'd never thought in a million years that I would consider this apartment home again. Even though we have the place in Brooklyn and of course that cottage at the Hampton house, this will also be considered home.

Looking out the windows it was the first time I could actually look down to lower Manhattan. Sookie and I had ventured into the area a week or so ago but I couldn't bring myself to linger there. Without saying a word, My Sookie knew exactly how I was feeling and lead me to a small café so we could eat lunch and return to work.

She did the same thing this evening by coming to me and allowing me to take comfort in her embrace.

I looked at the skyline for the first time in a long time without feeling like my chest would explode.

I will always miss my little girl but the pain is getting easier to live with. Sookie and Maddi have repaired a wound I thought was never going to heal.

I hear something buzzing as I walk across the room toward the bed. Leaning in, I see my phone on the nightstand blinking and buzzing. I have been putting it on vibrate at night so it doesn't disturb Sookie or the doodlebug if by chance I get a call. I put it on its charger before going to change for bed.

Looking at the clock, it's just after nine-thirty. It's not exactly late by anyone's standards but our family and most of our friends know of the day we've had. Who would be calling us tonight?

It's our first night in the Manhattan apartment and we'd just gotten Maddi down in her new room. She loved all the colors and especially the new bedspread that Octavia had gotten her.

We put a few toys in there but both Sookie and Octavia suggested we take a few things from home just to make Maddi feel comfortable. I know that, in time, this room will be just as full, if not fuller than the one in the Brooklyn house. And don't get me started on all the things that Mom, Pam and Amelia have been putting in the room at the Hampton house.

This child will definitely want for nothing and it's just the way I want it.

Looking at the phone, I see that it's my dad.

"Dad?" I ask. "What's wrong?"

We'd just seen them all a few hours ago. He wouldn't be calling unless something was wrong.

God, I hope it's not my grandmother or mom.

"It's done," he says.

"What?" I ask.

"It's done," he says again. "Watch the news tomorrow but it's all been dealt with."

I instantly know that this has nothing to do with mom or grandmamma. This has to do with Edgington.

"How did…" I start to say.

"No one messes with our family, Eric," he pauses. "One of these days you and I will have to have a very, very long talk. Until then, kiss Sookie and Maddi for us. We will see you tomorrow at the Gala."

"Dad, I…" I know my father and I know that he can get things done. But something tells me that this took a personal touch.

"I love you, Son," he says. "We love you all. Go take care of your beautiful family. You've earned it."

"I…" I look at the bathroom door as Sookie opens it. "Yeah, I," I clear my throat as I watch her walk toward me in her short and cami set. "We love you too."

He says goodnight and I end the call.

"What's wrong?" Sookie asks me.

"I," I pause and sit on the side of the bed. "I don't think anything is exactly wrong."

At least I hope she thinks that nothing is wrong. I know we told her we'd deal with all of this but she was so scared Edgington would come after us.

She looks at the clock and then back at me. "It's not late but I didn't think we would hear from your folks tonight. I already spoke to your mom and told her how much Maddi loved her new room here. We discussed tomorrow and where we were going to meet. Did she forget something?"

I open my arms and she walks into my embrace as I spread my legs for her to stand closer. Wrapping my arms around her like I did earlier, I lean in to kiss her forehead.

"No," I say and look at her. "Dad had some news for us."

"What news?" she asks.

"All he said is that it was done."

"What's done?" her eyes suddenly go wide. "Did they find Lorena's murderer?"

"No," I shake my head. "I don't know anything about that. I suppose there has been some developments but that isn't what he meant. He told me to watch the news in the morning."

"I don't…." she says but stops. "Does he mean?"

"Yes sweetheart," I say and pull her closer. "I think he's taken care of the Edgingtons."

"It's done," she pauses. "What's done?"

"Knowing my father," I pull her closer. "I'd say everything's done."

Russell's POV

Nine hours. That's how long we have been waiting in this ungodly grey room. Nine hours since Raul Martinez, Special Investigator for the United States Senate and Judicial Committee barged into my hotel suite and started asking questions about my connections to Felipe deCastro and other things that have happen over the past few years. Some of the things I thought would never see the light of day.

Things that shouldn't have seen the light of day. I paid a hell of a lot of money for those things to be buried and the fact that this two bit government hack and his cronies are asking me about them is very concerning to me. I'd been assured that my involvement in many of these situations would never come to light.

The truth is, I still trust those who made me that promise. Which means that the only way these government hacks would know anything is if someone close to me or deCastro talked. There are only a few people who know the whole story. Hell, no one knows everything besides me, deCastro and Madden and I know those two wouldn't talk to some suit with a badge. Both those men hold more power and control over the Midwest than these government drones could ever imagine.

Hell, I have more control than Special Investigator Raul Martinez could ever imagine. Which is why I'm wondering why I'm still in this room. Why my attorneys haven't appeared yet and why didn't my staff sidetrack this fool and never allow him close to me.

Oh yeah, heads will roll when I get my hands on those flunkies. When I'm through with them, they will be lucky if they can find a job picking up dead animals on the I-95 corridor.

I'm going to be the next president of the United States. They can't treat me like this.

But it's still concerning to me. I need to know what they know and for that I need Calvin. He knows more than anyone and has ways of finding out more. He'd be able to tell me what these fools think they have on me and then my staff could make sure that the next 'Special' Investigation Mr. Martinez oversees is in the cold hell of Alaska.

I look out the window thinking about Calvin. Have I seen him today? Have I seen him since we met up with Ocella?

No, I haven't. But I wasn't surprised. With his business dealings and what he was working on with RJ and Madden, I'd suspect that he'd want to stay clear of Ocella never mind his brother.

But I should have seen him today. He was supposed to be keeping an eye on that idiot son of mine, especially now that we are in New York. I needed him to stay clear of that Stackhouse woman and the family she's connected herself to.

I knew that she was a gold digger. Now she's just connected herself to another powerful family.

My son will understand soon enough that leaving Sookie behind was the right thing to do.

But that doesn't change the fact that Calvin has not been seen today.

Could he have turned on me? Why would he? If he did, his hands would be as dirty as mine. More so. He cleaned up that situation after we sent RJ away. He told me that the whole thing would go away. That doesn't even get into all his dealings he's had for me and the most recent connection to Madden.

Not to mention that girl who was threatening to go public with our affair. Or the girl before that.

No, I couldn't have that. That girl showed up days before we were going to announce my re-election. I couldn't have a scandal muddying up the waters. It didn't matter that the girl was of age. She was only nineteen and complaining I forced her to do what I know damn well she wanted to do. Nan would have had my head if I messed up the announcement. Not to mention that I was still sleeping with her. Nan is not the kind of woman to accept a man who has more than one bed partner.

She's a powerful, smart and independent woman. Three things that would never allow us to last.

So, I took solace in a few not so bright eager young ladies that thought it would be fun to play with an older man. The last one was just ripe for the picking and was everything that Nan wasn't.

She enjoyed every minute of it. You can't cry rape when you ask for more. When you come when called and call for more.

So maybe it isn't Calvin but then who?

I look across the table to where Nan is sitting. She's been quite since they suggested we come down here to continue our questioning.

Oh sure she argued that it wasn't necessary. That we would be in town for a few more days and would be happy to come and answer any questions they had but Raul Martinez, Special Investigator for the United States Senate and Judicial Committee wasn't having any of it. Nope he just smiled and suggested that we continue this now.

Suggest, my ass. I've suggested just the same way. The difference is, my suggestions have power behind them. Why anyone allowed him and his staff to take me out of the suite is beyond me.

Where were my attorneys? At $400 dollars an hour one would think they'd be parked up my ass day in and day out. Not to mention my security. Where the hell where they?

But those questions can wait for later. The question most pressing right now is what do they know and how are we going to get this all to go away.

I need answers and since Nan is the only one here, I'll start with her.

"What do you know about this?" I ask her.

Her head shoots up and looks at me. "What?"

"What do they think they know about me and my supposed connection with Felipe deCastro?" I ask her.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" she raises her hand. "I didn't even know you had any dealings with deCastro? You have never talked to him and why on earth would you? The man is a known criminal with suspected ties to organized crime," she says looking around. "What on earth would you need to have an affiliation with him?"

"I don't," I say looking around. "We don't need to connect ourselves with deCastro. We have other connections in Las Vegas do we not?"

I'd bet my yacht that they had the room wired.

"Your Nevada connections are through Dillon Crane," she says.

"Exactly," I say with a smile.

"Then what makes you think I know anything?" she asks. "I was just as surprised as you to see them at the door. I told you that the Deputy Governor had called. They wanted you to come home so you all could deal with the rumors and suspicions then but you wouldn't hear anything about that."

She looks down at her watch. "You missed the dinner with the State Representative," she says.

"I don't give a fuck about any dinner, Nan," I growl at her. "What the fuck is going on and what is all this shit they were asking about? Why would they be asking about things that they think happened more than ten years ago? And why ask now?"

"I don't know," she says and looks out the window. "This isn't how this day was supposed to go at all."

"Oh how did you expect this day to go, dear sweet Nan?" I ask her.

She turns to look at me. "I…."

"Oh, you thought that telling me that my fiancé is having an affair with my son would change things?" I laugh at her.

"No," she says leaning forward, "telling you I'm carrying your child would."

"How do I even know that's mine," I wave a hand in her direction.

"You know," she says and leans back. "It just wasn't in your plan."

"That's right," I slam my hand down on the table. "It wasn't in my plan. It wasn't what the public would want and it sure as hell isn't what I wanted."

"What are you saying?" she asks.

I stand and move around the table. Placing one hand on the table beside her and the other on the arm of her chair, I lean into her and look directly into her eyes.

"I'm saying that as soon as we are out of here you are going to take care of that little problem you are carrying," I say softly.

"What?" she asks as her eyes grow wider.

"You heard me," I say and move away from her.

"No," she says.

I turn to look at her again. "What?"

"I said no," she says again.

"You will do this Nan," I point to her. "We don't have time for these games. I have an election to win and a place in history to take. I can't have you and that…," I wave again, "…that bastard ruining my plans."

"No," she says again. "This is our child. You wanted another child and a young wife for the White House. Well," she stands and moves closer to me. "I am educated, young and carrying your child. I'm not connected to anyone or anything thwarted and this is what you need for your image. You will drop that little rat bitch and start making smart choices. You wanted the White House and I have it waiting on a platter for you if you only stop playing these games and start playing like you want to win."

I laugh at her. She actually thinks she's got the upper hand in this.

"You will play this game by my rules Nan," I move closer to her. "Or you will not be playing them at all."

"Are you threatening me?" she asks.

I smile. "Why would you assume I'm threatening?"

She looks around the room.

"You can't be serious," she says. "You are threatening to harm me, here," she points to the table in front of her.

I say nothing for a minute.

"Jesus," she whispers. "You really are insane."

I'm not insane. I'm just untouchable.

Before I can say anything else the door opens and Raul Martinez, Special Investigator for the United States Senate and Judicial Committee walks in with several others that I can't make myself remember their names.

"Governor," he says as he sits down and motions for me to take a seat.

"You have kept us waiting long enough Martinez," I say to him. "I would like to leave. You have already made me miss an important dinner meeting. Now, I must insist you allow us to return to our hotel and try to do damage control before my fundraiser,…" I look at my watch.

Martinez doesn't even look up from something he's reading.

"Mr. Martinez," Nan attempts to get his attention. "Really, this is most irregular. If you have questions for the Governor, I'm sure we can make time after the event tomorrow night. Not to mention that you have made the Governor wait in this room without his counsel and advisors for over nine hours. You can see where we are both getting very irritated by the treatment bestowed on a sitting US Governor."

With that Martinez looks up. "I understand that you are an attorney, Ms. Flanagan," he says. "You aren't the Governor's attorney?"

"I have many attorneys on staff as well as many more on retainer, Mr. Martinez. Ms. Flanagan is busy managing my campaign and has a great many duties and responsibilities as do I," I say to him and begin to stand. "So if you will please excuse us."

"Sit down, Governor," Martinez says looking me dead in the eye. "We have some things to inform you of."

"Well get on with it." I say to him. "It has been an exhausting few weeks and both Ms. Flanagan and I have a great deal of things to take care of this evening, you are just delaying us further."

"I am sorry to have to tell you this," he sighs and places the file he was just reading in front of me. "Your son was killed in a covert drug bust just a few hours ago," he says.

I look from him to Nan and then at the file in front of me.

"What?" I ask and then shake my head. "No," I say. "My son is at the hotel. We have security and…."

"You son somehow slipped past your security while we were in with you. Your head of security," he looks down at something in front of him, "a Mr. Brian Simmons, informed our people who were waiting outside your door that your son was not in his suite and they couldn't locate him in the hotel. Mr. Simmons did say that your son had some issues in the past with drugs and alcohol," he looks down again. "I believe that he has been away attempting to overcome his addictions these past few years," he looks up at me and folds his hands over the other papers in front of him. "Is that not right?"

"I…"

"Yes," Martinez continues. "Mr. Simmons was concerned since the young woman who had been with him earlier today informed the security staff that he'd been acting confused and drinking to excess for the past few days."

"He…" I say looking at the file in front of me. "A Drug bust?"

"There have been several joint task force projects in play over the past few months here in New York City. Several of them have to do with a new influx of heroin into the area. Your son," he points to the file, "was found in a known drug den. When one of the teams were sent in to raid it, the occupants retaliated and a fire fight ensued. Your son was caught in the crossfire.

"No," I say and open the folder.

The first picture brings bile up into my throat.

The picture shows a man, lying on a bare mattress dead from several gunshot wounds. The face looks like my son but my brain is having a hard time convincing itself that it's him.

It can't be RJ. He's irrational and confused about some things. Sure he's drank and done several drugs recreationally but hasn't since he's been back. Ocella assured me that he had gotten clean while he was away and I know for a fact that no one had given him anything stronger than scotch since we've been on the road.

So this can't be RJ. He's not this stupid.

"How," I hear Nan ask. "When?"

"The house is located in Queens. We are unsure of how he got there or even how he knew where it was. You haven't been in New York more than a day, have you?" he asks.

I shake my head not allowing myself to look away from the picture.

"The when is a bit easier to answer… Like I said, the raid began several hours ago and a positive ID was made only minutes before I entered the room. I'm sorry to say that your son was caught in the crossfire but I've been informed that the officers who were there believe that he was killed by someone inside the house and not one of the officers involved in the raid."

"What?" I ask finally looking up. "You said crossfire."

"Well, we are not sure when he was killed," he says. "Of course the autopsy will take some time but the officers indicated that they didn't enter the room your son was found in until after the shooting ended. That is when they found him dead. They are thinking that the scum who were running the house killed him to prevent your son from talking. Little did they know that we have our suspicions on who is running the house and supplying the drugs."

"Is that why you wanted to speak to me about deCastro? You think he's the one supplying that house?" I ask.

That would certainly make more sense than them knowing about any dealings.

"No," Martinez says. "We came to talk to you about a whole other matter. We suspect the house was supplied by a completely different faction of the crime syndicate."

"Who?" I ask.

"Excuse me," Martinez says. "That is another investigation outside the scope of this interview. If you would like me to get your attorneys to come in, we can talk about the other matters at hand."

Slamming my hand on the table I see Nan jump back in the seat that she's now taken beside me.

"Tell me who killed my son," I say once more.

"We are unsure," Martinez says.

"Bullshit," I say to him. "You know what the fuck is going on. This shit right here," I point to table, "is nothing and you know it. Now stop with this shit. You know I don't have anything to do with deCastro or any other crap you were spewing before. Now if you want to tell me something, tell me how my son got from midtown to Queens, where he's never been, mind you, and ends up dead on a dirty, filthy bed with a fucking needle in his arm!"

"Russell," Nan tries to put her hand on my arm but I push it way.

"The fuck!" I growl. "Who dared to touch my son because I know as well as you do that he didn't start out there. So tell me Martinez who the FUCK KILLED MY SON!"

"Governor," one of Martinez's flunkies starts to talk but he puts his hand up to silence him.

"Governor," he says. "We cannot discuss this with you as it has a direct connection to you."

"WHAT!" I scream and get up from my chair. "First I'm in bed with deCastro. I've killed numerous people and hid the bodies. There are woman missing in Louisiana that are somehow connected to me and there is a situation with misappropriation and missing federal funds in Mississippi that I somehow have been connected to. Now, there is a drug den in Queens, New York that I've somehow have ties too. Tell me Special Investigator," I motion to myself. "Do I look like a drug lord to you?"

"You don't, Sir," he says to me.

"Exactly," I say. "Now if you would just let me know…"

"Sir," he interrupts me. "You are not directly connected to this situation but," he says as he moves another file in front of me, "we believe that your fiancé," he pauses. "The woman who indicated that your son has been acting irrational the past few days has a direct association with a person or should I say an organization that is connected to this situation."

"What?" I ask him opening the file. "You think that Gianna killed my son?"

Martinez folds his hands again on the table and looks directly at me.

"Sir," he says to me. "We have compelling evidence that either puts you directly or indirectly involved with over twenty different felony charges not to mention several that would fall under a RICO charter. Compile that with conspiracy, money laundering, and we won't even go into the countless accusations of assault and rape that have come to light in the past several months. You are looking at not only State and Federal inquiries but also misappropriations of Federal funds and Grants."

As he is ticking off these bogus allegations, he is motioning to folders in front of me as well as the several boxes that were brought in by his lackeys.

"Now, I've no idea how your son found his way to a flop house in Queens. What I do know is that many of these crimes have been in connection with the alleged deCastro crime syndicate. I am also aware that deCastro and Ocella don't play very well together. We also know that deCastro has been trying to get a foothold on the east coast for some time now and has been stopped by Ocella and those associated with him every time. It would seem that Ocella doesn't want deCastro in his backyard any more than we do…"

"Now," he pauses. "You come to town and are supposedly engaged to Appius and Alexi Ocella's sister, Gianna."

"Half-sister," I say to him.

"Excuse me?" he asks.

"Gianna is their half-sister," I say with a smirk. "Gianna lived with her mother until ten years ago when she died. She was then introduced to her father and by extension her brothers. Or doesn't it say any of that in your little folders?"

"Indeed it does," Martinez smiles at me. "We also know that the father took her in, changed her name and made her a legal heir to his estate. Argo Ocella passed away," he opens the file again, "two years ago. That is after he retired and moved back to Italy when Gianna came into his life. Or am I leaving anything out?"

I lean back in my chair. "It means nothing. I just met Gianna less than three months ago."

"And you are already engaged," he looks from me to Nan and back again. "Convenient, wouldn't you say."

I lean forward. "Are you saying that Ocella killed my son? That's impossible."

He sits back in his chair.

"It's impossible," I say to him. "We just left meetings with Ocella and his board of directors. I understand that there is talk about what the Ocella family used to be into but as far as I can tell and I assure you that I've done an exhausted background check on the entire organization, they are a legitimate business. This," I push the file back at him, "is bullshit. I wouldn't put it past you to fake my son's death just to see if you can get me to say something. But the thing here, Special Investigator, there isn't anything to say. Now, I want my attorney, I want out of this room and then next time you come at me, it better be with a subpoena."

Martinez smiles again. "Charles, if you would," he motions to a man next to him.

"Russell Edgington," he says moving toward me. "Under special stipulations granted to this body by the Patriot'sAct, you are hereby being detained in connection with actions and conspiracies against the United States."

"What?" Nan and I scream at the same time.

"Would you stand up, please," Martinez motions to me.

"How is any of this in connection to the Patriot'sAct?" Nan asks.

"We have reason to believe that much of the missing and misappropriated funds are in off shore accounts. More specifically in accounts held not only in Italy but in the Middle East. Ocella is under suspicion of dealings with highly questionable organizations in Iraq and Afghanistan. deCastro has connections in South America and with organizations that are under suspicion of funding and arming several terrorist organizations. Not to mention they both are named as interested parties related to human trafficking out of the Middle East and South America."

"You were talking about missing funds and drugs," Nan says. "Now you think that a sitting United States Governor has connections with terrorists?"

"We believe he is connected to those who are funding and associating with terrorist organizations. Under the statute we can hold and question you on these and other questionable activities."

"Wait," I say and look around the room. "You need to talk to Calvin," I pause. "Calvin Norris. He is the one who has connections to deCastro. Not me. He," I look around the room. "Okay, perhaps I heard his name from time to time but Calvin is your man. He's your contact to deCastro. He said I didn't want to know what was going on. I looked the other way but I didn't know what was going on. As for Ocella," I pause again. "Ocella and I talked about nothing other than how he could keep jobs in the United States. We talked about tax breaks and funding for American companies. That's it. Gianna and I didn't know anything about any illegal activity."

No one stops as I'm talking and no sooner do I stop talking, I feel the weight of cold steel on my wrists.

"We have gone through your personnel records, Governor," Martinez says. "There isn't anyone by the name of Calvin Norris on record."

"No," I shake my head. "He is part of my personal staff. He isn't part of the Governor's office."

"Really?" Martinez says opening his phone and dialing a number. Once it's answered he begins to speak. "Find out everything you can on a Calvin Norris," he pauses and I hear the person on the other line...

He looks up at me. "Louisiana or Mississippi?" he asks me.

"Nevada," I growl. "Calvin is from Nevada."

Martinez raises and eyebrow but relays the information.

"Age, birthdate, address?" Martinez asks.

I don't know his age but I remember his birthdate is the same as my first wife's so I give Martinez that information.

"That's all you know?" Martinez asks.

"It's not like we were best friends," I say to him. "The man worked for me. He assists RJ in the campaign and worked security and other things for me. Perhaps Simmons would know more."

We wait a moment as the person on the other line says a few more things to Martinez.

"Nothing?" he asks.

The person starts talking again and Martinez nods a few times. "Extend the search but I'm thinking you won't find anything."

He hangs up and looks at me. "There is no one by that name with that birthdate from Nevada, Louisiana or Mississippi."

"Well maybe he lied," I growl at him. "He came to me through my son."

"Who can't corroborate that statement," he replies.

No one says a thing for a moment.

"That was cruel," Martinez says. "My apologies, Governor. You must still be in shock from the death of your son. Perhaps the rest of these questions can wait a day or two. We will have you moved until then."

"You can't do this," I yell at the room. "I'm a US Governor for Christ's sake."

"Ms. Flanagan," Martinez turns to Nan. "We understand that you only came into the Governor's employ during this initial campaign. Though you have no direct connection to the charges against the Governor, I must insist that you not only remove yourself from the Governor's Cabinet but that you please inform us on where you may be reached as we may have more questions in the near future."

Martinez turns to me. "Your attorneys have been informed that you are under arrest and by their request, it is not being made public until they have time to speak with you. You will be held in isolation in the Federal Detention Center until other arrangements can be made. Gianna Ocella, since she isn't an American citizen will be held in the Immigration Deportation Facility until she has been questioned and deposed regarding her connections to you and her brother's dealings."

"What," I look around. "What about deCastro? What about Ocella?"

"Good reasons to be held in isolation, don't you think?" he nods in my direction.

Before I can say anything else I'm lead out of the room, down a back staircase and out through a side door to a waiting car.

The whole way, I hear Nan telling them they can't do this. That I'm a Governor and this isn't done.

Done.

Once seated in the car the door is closed and I hear nothing. I don't hear Nan, Martinez, the men in the front seat, the car starting, nothing.

Done.

If I'm here and they have detained me, they have something. They think they have something.

Done.

Done is my connection to deCastro. Done is the money that would have come from his business dealings.

Done is the power that came with associating with him.

Done is my connections to Ocella. He will hang me out to dry if what Martinez says is true. If my son died anywhere near him, I know it was his own doing. He wanted to kill him after his run in with that Stackhouse woman.

Ocella will be done with me.

Done.

I'm just done.

Closing my eyes, I listen to the quiet of the car.

Done.

Everything is done.

Edwin's POV

"You called him?" Abbie asks me as I plug in my phone.

I nod. "I didn't want him or Sookie to be shocked tomorrow."

"And it will definitely be on the news?" she asks.

I nod and go to sit in my big chair in the corner of my study. Abbie comes and sits on the arm as she's done countless times before with a drink in both hands, one for her and one for me. If this chair, never mind this room could talk, many of the world's best kept secrets would be revealed. Some may say I'm a fool but I discuss most things with my darling Abbie. It's been this way since soon after she understood what being a Northman entailed and what kind of power we wield.

I trust Abbie implicitly. Just like I know Eric will trust Sookie. I finally feel comfortable handing over the seat of the Northman house to my son. Handing over the business was just the beginning. There is much more for him to learn.

"So it's done?" she asks.

"You didn't think I'd let him get away with what he did?" I ask her. "He hurt her. You saw those pictures. Prison would have been too good for him," I growl.

"I know," she says and places a hand on my shoulder. "I know you would never allow him to go unpunished."

"This way, they will have everything they need on both of them," I say with a nod taking a sip of my Jameson.

"Repercussions?" she asks me?

"Martinez isn't thrilled," I roll my eyes. "But this way he can go after all of them. The task forces were already in play. I just had to point them in the right direction. The proper people will get the proper credit. The right information has been placed in the right hands. Everyone wins. Well," I chuckle. "Everyone I want to win will win."

"Your man?" Abbie asks.

I smile. "Calvin Norris never existed. He has left the city and will be on the first flight out of the country come morning. He will be in contact to let me know where he is in case he's needed. He has been under cover for a great many years. He deserves to return to his family."

"She is safe," Abbie says. "They are both safe. That's all I really care about."

"I know sweetheart," I say and pull her a little closer. "It's all I care about too."

Taking another sip of my drink, we both sit in the relative quiet of the room thinking about what will come next.

No matter what, our family will be safe.

"You are a good man," she finally says.

"No," I shake my head. "I'm a powerful man. If I had to choose, I'd take the later every day of the week."

She kisses my forehead and leans back knowing in her heart that I'm right.

Russell Edgington thought he had power. He has no clue what real power is. But I know and others like me. One day my son will know as well.

That is what I'll give my son; power to make sure that his family and those he love are safe, secure and happy.

What father wants anything less?

Regardless, it's done.