Strange Bedfellows

“What the he-” 

Alejandro Garcia stamped on his brakes and brought his car to a screeching halt mere inches away from his friend.  For a few seconds the sleek gray Chevrolet Impala vibrated from the sheer physics involved with the action of stopping.  Alex hastily threw the gearshift into park and jumped from the car.

“Are you crazy?” he yelled, unmindful that Commissioner Mac Scorpio was also his boss at the Port Charles Police Department.  “I could have run you over!”

Mac never shifted from his relaxed stance.  He stood with his hands buried deep inside his windbreaker pockets.  “You drive almost as well as I do,” Mac shrugged.  “I wasn’t worried.”

Alex took several calming breaths.  He could feel his heartbeat slow to a more reasonable pace.  “What are you doing here, Mac?”

“The same thing you are, no doubt.”  The Commissioner turned and looked out over Spoon Island.  “The guys from the WSB traced Dara to Wyndemere.  It was,” Mac glanced at Alex, “frankly the last place in the world I would have expected.”

“I know,” Alex agreed.  “Do your guys know why Dara is there?  Or how she got herself involved with the Cassadines?”

“No.  All they uncovered so far is that Dara is on Spoon Island.  Of course, they will continue to look for answers.”  Mac frowned.  “Speaking of answers, do you mind telling me what led you here?”

“I got a phone call from a source in the courthouse building.”

Mac scrutinized the other man.  “Do you have some kind of plan in mind for getting onto Spoon Island?  I don’t think I need to remind you that anything but an invitation from the Cassadines would be considered trespassing.”  Mac’s voice became authoritative.  “That sort of thing is frowned on for sworn officers of the law.”

Alex received his boss’ message loud and clear.  “Don’t worry, Commissioner.  I intend to ask for permission very nicely.”

‘I’ll ask one time,’ Alex added silently.  After that…