Written in 57 minutes.

Scott exhaled slowly and shook his head. “No, no. I don’t know where he moved Betsy—I thought she was still—” He looked over at Mac before returning his attention to Spinelli. “He’s been paying her expenses, though. Can you track that?”

“I can,” Spinelli said evenly. “As long as no one asks me how I did it.” He clicked away at a few keys on the laptop, while Scott shoved himself to his feet and started to pace the conference room.

He felt like such a goddamn fool. He’d defended Franco, he thought they’d had a relationship. He had tried like hell to get his daughters, Serena and Christina, to develop a relationship with him. He wasn’t the man they thought he was, he kept telling the world.

But Franco was that man. He had always been that man, and now someone else’s son was in danger because of it.

“It’s not your fault—”

“He’s my blood, Mac—”

“He’s a sociopath. And from what Spinelli’s been telling us, there’s a hell of a more we didn’t know. This plan? He didn’t think of this this morning when Elizabeth broke up with him.”

“No, he didn’t.” Mac looked back at Spinelli who was frowning at his keyboard screen. “Cloning phones. How hard is that?”

“Not that hard,” Spinelli said absently as he continued to type. “If you know how to do it. Still can’t be done in a few hours. So maybe he didn’t plan for this today but he definitely had something planned. Explosives aren’t easy to come by either.”

“You said Drew and Sam were talking to Anna?” Mac asked. He pulled out his cell phone. “I’m calling in my own WSB contact.”

“You two do that. I’m going to go see about Elizabeth and the boys.” Scott pulled open the door and left the conference room.

—-
Down the hall, in the surgical waiting room, Jason and Diane were having a heated argument about something in the corner while Joss bit nervously at her nails.

How much longer was it gonna take for them to find Cameron? And why wasn’t anyone looking more upset? More worried? Cameron was missing. Even Oscar had merely shrugged when Joss called him crying. Cam had probably run away, her idiot boyfriend had said. Everyone knew Cam hated his mom’s boyfriend.

Well, now Oscar was her idiot ex-boyfriend. See how he liked that.

“How long does it take to find one stupid woman?’ Joss demanded. “Find Betsy. Get Cameron back. Dump Franco off a cliff. Why is this so hard?”

“God, you are my kid,” Carly muttered. “Look, I know you’re worried about Cam—”

“He’s been my best friend since we were kids. He’s the only one who gets how crazy all of you are. And I just—I need him to be okay. I really need that.”

“I get it—”

“And what about if his mom dies? What happens to him and his brothers? There’s no one left who gives a damn—”

“Well, first, you don’t have to worry about Elizabeth dying,” Carly said, with a grimace. “She’s like a cockroach. They never die—”

“Oh, my God. You’re such an embarrassment sometimes. I don’t get why you hate Cam’s mom so much.” Joss jumped out of her seat and stalked across the room to Jason and Diane.

She poked Diane in the shoulder. “Hey. I need to know what’s going to happen to Cam and his brothers.”

“Joss—” Carly hissed, following her.

Diane looked down at her shoulder where Joss’s finger was still touching the silk white sleeve of her blouse. “Excuse me—”

“Joss,” Jason began, looking on the other side of the room where Jake and Aiden were sleeping on one of the long sofas.

“I want to know what happens to Cam and his brothers if their mother isn’t okay.” Joss folded her arms. “I’m the only person here who actually gives a damn about Cam, and I think that qualifies me—”

“Jocelyn Jacks—”

“Shut up, Mom. You don’t have anything to do with this. You don’t even like Elizabeth.” Joss turned her back on her mother.

“Ah, well, that’s what we’re sorting out now. Elizabeth doesn’t have a legal, adult next of kin anymore,” Diane said as she cleared her throat. “Normally, the hospital is obligated to call Children’s Services who sort things out, but—”

“Well, that’s bullshit,” Joss muttered.

“Let her finish,” Jason said with some irritation. “I’m worried about Cam, too—”

“Yeah, now. Where have you been while his mother lived with a freak?” Joss demanded. “You’ve been back for four months. Why isn’t Franco wearing cement shoes? God damn it. What’s the point of being in the mob if you can’t get stuff done—”

“I didn’t hear that,” Diane said, delicately. “As I was saying, the hospital located a durable power of attorney for Elizabeth that was outdated, and there wasn’t time to consult with me.” She held up a folder. “I have Elizabeth’s living trust which she updated a few months ago.”

“So?”

“As I was telling Jason before I was interrupted, Elizabeth had to update the trust once there were two Jason Morgans in the world. Unless Lucky Spencer or his parents contest the trust, custody of all three boys is left with you and you are her healthy proxy.”

Joss blinked, and Carly scowled. “Of course you are. She never misses the chance to sink her claws into you—”

“Mom.” Joss said before Jason could jump in. “Go away. Go sit over there and wait until someone something to say to you. I don’t have the time for your ridiculous hatred for Cameron’s mother, and I highly doubt Jason does either.”

“Joss—”

“Carly,” Jason said sharply. “Thank you for your help. Go over there.” He pointed to the same chair Joss had indicated.

Carly glared at the two of them but did as she was asked—clearly recognizing the stony glint in Jason’s expression.

“That’s good, though, right?” Joss said to Diane. “Children’s Services don’t have to get involved, and Laura Spencer already said she’s not able to come back from England.”

“Well, Lucky has to be contacted, but yes, it’s good.” Diane exhaled slowly, looked back at Jason. “She thought you were her best chance to keep her boys together after her grandmother passed last year.”

“Well, she’s right.” Jason turned when the door opened and so did Joss. But it wasn’t Griffin coming in with news—it was Spinelli.

Spinelli shook his head. “I just wanted to let you know I set up a bunch of searches but I haven’t been able to find Betsy yet. Mac is calling Robert Scorpio, so I wanted to know if Drew or Sam had called back yet about Anna.”

“No, no.” Jason folded his arms. “Scott didn’t know where Betsy was staying—”

“No, but—” Spinelli looked around. “Didn’t he come in here? He said he was—” He scowled. “Damn it.”

“Where did Baldwin go?” Jason demanded as Spinelli turned on his heel and rushed out of the conference room. Jason started to follow, but turned back to Joss.

“Joss, stay here with the boys—”

“Go find Cameron. I got this,” Joss promised.

—

Betsy Frank had moved only three towns over, but Scott hadn’t wanted to tell Spinelli that. He wasn’t sure why he’d kept the information to himself.

But the tumor had come back, maybe that was why Franco was doing all of this. If he could just find his son, if he could just bring Cameron Webber home safely, it would be okay.

He could get Franco help. They could get rid of the tumor again—stay on top of it in the future.

Scott couldn’t lose another son. Not like this.

He pulled into Betsy’s driveway, turned off his engine and sat back in the seat. He reached over to the glove compartment, pulled it open, and drew out a handgun. He tucked it in the pocket of his suit jacket. He opened the car door, and went up the front walk.. The lights in the house were all off, but that didn’t mean anything.

He rang the doorbell.

After a minute, a light switched on and the door opened hesitantly. Betsy Frank, Heather Webber’s old friend and partner in crime.

Her mouth looked pinched at the corners and she didn’t open the door more than an inch. “What do you want, Scott?”

“Something bad has happened to Bobby,” Scott said carefully. “I’m worried about him. Everyone’s looking for him, but they’re pissed, and I need—we need to find him, Betsy. We need to protect him before it gets worse.”

Betsy sniffled, then stepped back to open the door more widely. “He was here,” she said in a hushed whisper. “He was so angry. Everything was ruined, he said. He was screaming at me. I had to keep him a secret. I had to keep the door locked.”

“What door?” Scott said, stepping over the threshold. He closed the front door behind him. “Betsy, did Franco come here alone?”

Betsy’s eyes were wide as she pressed her lips together. “Bobby said I couldn’t say.”

Which meant he hadn’t. “Okay. What door did he want you to keep locked?”

“Bobby said I couldn’t say.”

“Ah, forget this,” Scott muttered, dismissing the crazy old bat and stalking past her, up the stairways. Once on the second floor, he started throwing open doors. A bedroom, a bathroom—

He threw open the last door, but it was another empty bedroom. Scott scowled. What door did Franco want locked? As he turned to return to the hallway, he caught sight of a door inside the room. He pulled on the knob—but it didn’t turn.

Locked.

“Cameron?” he called softly. “Cameron?” he said a little more loudly. He heard something rustling inside, a sound like a grunt, and then something thrown against the door—as if Cameron had shoved his weight against it.

“Step back, Cam, I’m getting you out of here—”

Scott tugged on the lock—it was one of those old locks and with a bit of brute force, he was able to pull it open.

Cameron was in the room, his dark blonde hair messy, his eyes red, his cheeks swollen from crying. Duct tape was stretched across his mouth, and his hands were behind his back.

“This is gonna hurt,” Scott said. He ripped the tape from the kid’s mouth, and Cameron hissed. Quickly, Scott untied him. “We gotta get you out of here and back home—”

“Oh, it’s too late for that, Dad.”

Shoving Cameron behind him, Scott turned around to face his son as Franco stood in the doorway, blocking their escape.