Always There

Nothing happened, nothing happened, nothing happened.

That's what Billie Joe had running through his head, trying to ignore his most recent visit to Long Island as he threw himself into his work. He was sitting in the recording studio at 880 Studios, rocking back and forth ever so slightly with good ol' Blue on his lap as he plucked out a few chords here and there.

He would get quick little flashes in his memory that would make him completely stop what he was doing as if a camera had gone off in front of him, catching him off guard. As he fumbled through a lyric he was trying to form, he saw the image of himself reaching out to pull Maria close in his mind's eye, only to shake it away and continue what he was doing. When Mike called to him, he thought he remembered the sound of Maria moaning his name against his lips when he brought her to sit on his lap in the passenger seat of her SUV. But, again, he shook it away.

Billie Joe had to close his eyes tight, to drown out the world around him. He had to focus on the present.

Focus, damnit, he mentall scolded himself.

"You left me for dead / A corpse in your head / But you kissed me eternally / I was brought down to my knees..." he began to sing. Billie Joe could feel Mike turn his head toward him as he strummed along on Blue. "All the songs that I know / Couldn't help me let go / You became a ghost in my mind / But I was the one you left behind..."

Billie Joe stopped, not realizing that Mike had began to play along with his bass. The lankier man stopped as well and looked over.

"Keep going," Mike said.

Locking eyes with his best friend, the green eyed punk rocker sighed. "Gimme a minute," he replied. "I'm trying to think about the chorus."

It's possible that it may have felt like forever to the bassist; just sitting there and waiting for Billie Joe to wrap a possible chorus around his mind. But it didn't bother him any. He knew that there was this labyrinth inside the older man's head full of thoughts and ideas at more often than naught spewed out great lyrics. There would be no pressure on his part to make his friend hurry up.

"Fuck it," Billie Joe muttered. "Another verse instead."

"Okay," Mike nodded.

"I can hear the arrangement in my head," he began. "The first verse is more acoustic...lightly played. No drums. Second verse pulls everything in. I can hear Tre coming in with a waltzy type of beat, then kinda skipping around like a zombie fumbling over his feet or something..."

Mike smirked at how Billie Joe described this all. He could picture it all himself. "Sounds awesome," he commented.

"Yeah, it will be." Billie Joe stared off into space, but more specifically in the direction of Mike's chucks. "What you were doing...that was good. But make it a little more sparce, 'kay?"

Mike nodded. "Sure thing."

"Okay, I think I know what the second verse is...uh...pick it up..." Billie Joe tapped his foot to count off and then, well...they were off. "Your excuses formed a plot / Innocent, I know you're not / Sick and tired of open wounds / I'll kill the pain by breathing fumes / I know I could feel better / Just write to me a love letter / Words were never enough for me / I need you here down on your knees..."

Billie Joe paused again and Mike shook his head. "Fuck, Bill. This is some deep, My Chemical Romance type of shit."

The guitarist frowned. "That a bad thing?"

"No, it's awesome. It's like this...I dunno," Mike shrugged. "It has our typical pop-punk rock sound or whatever...but it's also kinda...uh...not morbid, but...maybe a little haunting and sad...yet also a little romantic." It was a lame description for the most part. Both of them knew it, but it made sense. "I like it."

"Thanks," Billie Joe replied softly.

"So," Mike grinned. "How's this chorus gonna go?"

* * *

By mid September, kids and teenagers everywhere across the United States were finally back in school.

And for the first time in thirteen years, Maria was home alone.

Olivia was excited to be an eighth grader; an upperclassman in her middle school. It would be her last year before starting high school, which was another bucket of excitement for the soon-to-be teenager. Benjamin was in the third grade and off to a good start. He'd never really had any close friends in school before to play with after school or on the weekends, except for his little brother, but he finally made what would most likely end up being a best friend for him. And then there was Nathan who was finally in Kindergarten. The poor kid was so nervous and shy his first day, he ended up clinging to Maria's leg most of the time. But that was until he began to 'mingle' with the other kids, so to speak, and then he just seemed to open up and become a whole other child.

Driving home from dropping off her little boy, Maria found herself crying like a baby. Her tears stung her eyes so much as she tried to focus on the road and traffic, that she was glad when she finally got home to her silent house and could most likely hear a pin drop, if she had a pin.

Empty nest syndrome was settling in.

She found herself turning the television on in the living room to Nickelodeon, part on habit, and part for the comfort the noise brought. It made her feel like she wasn't home alone. Yet there were some pros to having no kids nagging on her every five seconds.

Maria was able to get all the housework done faster, even do errands she would normally have to put off or schedule around her children. It was, in some ways, a blessing in disguise. She even found the time to draw herself a nice bath and just lay in the tub with scented candles and listen to some music. She would read a little more, and would occasionally search the 'Want' ads to see if there were any hirings here and there.

Even thought Mitch's law firm was headed out of Manhattan, there was also a smaller branch in Long Island about twenty minutes away in Nassau County that she was planning on talking to him about. Even if it was only part time work, she thought that maybe she could do something secretarial. But then she realized that probably wouldn't end up working out. What with the baby on the way, she'd be devoting all her time in that direction.

* * *

On Sunday, September 17th, the house was alive with activity as Ben and Nate both had playmates over. Both playmates were boys their age they made friends with in school in their class that they got along great with. Ben's new best friend was a little black boy named Tatchy who's parents were divorced. His mother was an English professor at Hofstra Univeristy and his father was some sort of politician in Africa's Ivory Coast. Needless to say, young Tatchy didn't have much of a relationship with his father so it was nice for him and Nate to have each other. As for Nate, he had a little friend named Brandyn. He was a bit on the chunky side, but the two of them playing together was so adorable.

Olivia was following Maria around like her frickin' shadow, rattling off ideas for her thirteenth birthday that was a little under a month away, but Maria was simply nodding and going 'Mm-hmm' because she was distracted with getting dinner ready and doing laundry at the same time.

However, everything the nearly seven-month pregnant housewfie was doing was put on the backburner when a series of abrupt knocks resounded against the front door, followed by the door bell chiming the Big Ben tune.

"Coming!" she called out, wiping her hands with a dishtowel while almost tripping over one of the boys' Matchbox cars and practically killing herself. She shot her sons a knowing look and headed into the front hall where she brushed some hair behind her ear and opened the front door. "Uh...hello."

Standing on the other side of the threshhold were a group of police officers, both in the blue uniforms as well as in stereotypical Detective trenchcoats.

"Can I help you?" she inquired.

"Mrs. Conner?" the head detective asked as he flipped out his badge and showed Maria briefly. When she nodded, he continued. "I'm Detective McGrady, and this is my colleague Detective Hollister. We have a warrant to search your house," he informed as Hollister showed her the piece of paper that was, indeed, a search warrant.

Maria let out a gasp of disbelief. "Wh-what? What are you talking about? A warrant for what?"

"Please, Mrs. Conner..." McGrady said as the officers began to file into her house without another word.

She couldn't help but step out of their way and close the door behind them as they began to step further inside, alerting the kids that something was up.

"Will you please tell me what's going on?" Maria demanded.

"Where's your husband, ma'am?" Hollister asked.

"Uh...at his parent's house in West Islip. Wh-why? Did he do something? Did something happen to him?"

"Does he have a home office, here, ma'am?" Hollister conitunued, seemingly disregarding her question for the time being.

Sighing in frustration, she nodded. "Yes. It's across from the dining room over there, but will someone please tell me what's going on?"

McGrady gestured for the uniformed officers to head off in the direction while they he makes a motion with his hand to have her take a deep breath. "We apologize for barging into your home like this on a Sunday of all days, Mrs. Conner, but we've been informed that your husband may be involved with some shady deals. We're just here to see if we can find anything to that might incriminate your husband."

"What?!"

"Detective," came one of the officers as he reentered the living room from the office.

"What is it, Loughlin?"

"I think we found something."

McGrady nodded and then touched his partner on the arm to follow him. Maria was completely flabbergasted over what was going on and she wasn't about to be left out of the know in her own goddamn house, in a serach that regarded her husband. She entered Mitch's office right behind the two detectives where one of the Boys In Blue handed over a stack of paper.

She noticed the frown on McGrady's face whihc only fueled her curiosity the more. "What is it? What the fuck is going on?" she growled out. "This is my house, and I demand to know what you're looking for or what you found..."

Hollister sighed and took the stack of papers from McGrady, shaking them lightly in fron of Maria's face.

"These are bank account statements for a Swiss bank account under your husband's name, Mrs. Conner," he began to explain. "Each amount that was deposited either by wire transfer or in person matches the same exact amount of money that has been going missing from your husband's law firm over the course of the last four years."

Maria felt as if she had been hit with a ton of bricks. She tried registering what he was saying. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"You're husband has been laundering money out from under his partners, Steven Griffin and Jonathan Goldman."

Maria was too stunned to reply. Her mouth hung open and she just processed ever word spoken to her over and over.

"That can't be right..."

"You recently took a vacation to Europe, isn't that correct, Mrs. Conner?"

"Yes," she nodded slowly.

"And you were in Switzerland?"

"Y-yes. We were there last before we came back home."

"By any chance was your husband, Mr. Conner, acting strangely?"

It all came back to her in that moment. Every detail about their stay in Europe. The money Mitch was suddenly spending on them, disappearing for a few hours in Bern, and not to mention that phone call she'd heard a bit of.

"Oh God..." she muttered, feeling as if she were about to faint.

* * *

Billie Joe was laying on a lounge chair beside his pool while Adrienne was catching some sun beside him. She was laying on her stomach with her face buried in her arms while he kept an eye on the boys as they swam around like frickin' fish in the water. Aside from the sound of splashing and the boys' voices, everything was quiet.

Well, until Billie Joe's cell phone went off.

Turning his head, he leaned over the edge of his lounge and pulled his cell out of his shoes and turned it on.

"Hello?" he spoke after he noticed Maria's number.

Through a burst of tears and blubbering, the East Bay-er could barely make out a word of what Maria was saying, only seeming to get every other vowel or so.

"Wait, wait. Maria, slow down. What happened?" He sat up slowing, not paying attention to the fact that the mere mention of Maria's name had caught Adrienne's attention. "What do you mean he--oh, fuck. Shit, Maria...alright. No...listen. Take a deep breath, okay? It's gonna be fine. I'm coming out. I'm gonna leave now and catch the next flight out, alright? Okay. Don't worry, and stop stressing too much. YOu don't wanna go into premature labor or anything. Okay...yes, I know. Believe me, it's gonna be okay. Okay? Alright...I'll see you soon. Buh-bye."

With a deepset frown, Billie Joe turned to Adrienne.

"What's up?" she inquired, quirking an eyebrow.

His frown didn't waver as he stood up and began to throw on his shoes and put his shirt back on, while looking at his wife. "That was Maria," he stated.

"Obviously..."

"Mitch was just arrested for embezzlement and insider trading..."