Episode #10

Friday, 5/4/07

Same Day, Afternoon

Meg’s House, living room

“Let’s just get this over with,” Ben Harper muttered, running his hands through his hair. “I’m a little uneasy about diving up Maggie’s personal effects like she never existed.”

“Dad, that’s not what they’re doing,” Vanessa Harper said softly, putting her hand on her father’s shoulder. “Maggie’s gone, now. I know it’s devastating, but this is what she wanted done with her possessions. No one’s here to be a vulture. We’re just following her wishes.”

“She’s right, honey,” Betsy Harper said as she walked into the room with her husband’s aunt Vanessa Sterling, carrying a large tray with coffee and cups. “We have to do this.”

“I just hope she remembered me in her will,” Megan Harper spoke up, much to the displeasure of the rest of her family, before taking a bite out of a cookie. Realizing that all eyes were on her – and not in a good way – she slumped back into her seat on the sofa. “What? I’m just saying what everyone else here is thinking. It’s not like anyone liked her, anyway.”

“Megan!” Van chastised angrily and then shook her head in disappointment. It was definitely going to be a rather long and trying afternoon.

Meg’s House, living room

“Cal, did you and Rick have a nice trip up to Beaver Ridge?” Van asked as she hugged her niece. “I hear that John and Andy have done a lot of work trying to bring that old place back.”

“It looks wonderful,” an impressed Cal Latimer replied.

“I’m simply amazed,” her husband Rick spoke up. “From everything I heard about that fire years ago, I never thought anyone would be able to restore Beaver Ridge, but they’re doing it. It’s going to be a beautiful place.”

“It better be, as much time as he spends there,” Suzanne Prentiss grumbled, half to herself, as she stood behind her aunt and uncle, Cal and Rick. She glanced across the room towards her husband John Prentiss who was involved in conversation with her father Ben Harper. She knew she shouldn’t be resentful of his involvement in Beaver Ridge, but…

“Honey, this is important to him,” Van said softly, putting her arm around Suzanne and giving her a reassuring hug. “As soon as everything is completed and Beaver Ridge is up and running, things will get back to normal. You’ll see.”

“When are we gonna get this show on the road?” Megan Harper asked, obviously annoyed, as she walked into the room and plopped herself down in a chair. “All of this waiting is getting to be a drag.”

“Megan!” Betsy Harper chastised sternly. “Sometimes I can’t believe some of the things that come out of your mouth.”

“I can.” Suzanne shot her little sister a icy glare.

“As soon as Mr. Powell gets here, we can get started.” Ben propped himself on the back of Megan’s chair and put his hand on her shoulder, more of a cautionary action than a comforting one. “To be honest, I’m not too keen on this waiting, either. And all of those cops roaming around outside isn’t doing my stomach any good, either.”

“Ben, what are they doing out there?” Betsy walked over to the window and looked out at two officers off in the distance by the small pond Meg had put in just the summer before.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, “but I suspect it’s because they’ve found a lead. I just wish I knew what it was.”

“I made more coffee,” Vanessa Harper announced, relieving the sudden burst of tension by breezing into the room with a tray. “I had a feeling we could all use some.” She turned to her brother-in-law John and offered him a cup. “Remind me – cream, no sugar?”

“Ah, very good.” John took the cup of coffee from her and took a long sip. “I can’t believe you remembered how I like it.”

“Folks, I’m sorry I’m late. I hope you haven’t been kept waiting because of me.” Tom Crawford hurried in the front door, through the foyer, and into the room, oblivious to the many stunned and bewildered eyes on him. “I got tied up at the hospital and thought I’d never get away.”

“Tom, what are you doing here?” Ben asked, rising to meet him. “We’re reading Maggie’s will today.”

“Yes, I know. I’m supposed to be here.” After several long moments, Tom realized that what he’d said hadn’t fully registered with Ben, so he reached into his briefcase and handed him the envelope he’d received earlier. “It’s all in there, Ben. I was just as surprised as you are. Apparently, your mother has included me in her will.”

Carefully reading over the papers, Ben wasn’t exactly sure how to react.

Meg’s House, outside

“Thank god for chatty secretaries,” Joy Donovan thought to herself as she carefully attempted to step through the rose bushes outside of the living room window. She couldn’t have believed her luck that she’d managed to overhear a couple of woman from Lester Powell’s office in the diner discussing Meg’s estate – and the reading of her will.

As she leaned in closer, hoping to get a good look inside while also avoiding the bushes, she felt a string of thorns graze her leg.

“Ouch!” she cried out before catching herself. Oh, the things she went through for her job. Maybe life on the European party circuit wasn’t so bad, after all.

Just then, she felt an unfamiliar hand on her shoulder. Before she could cry out again in a mixture of shock and fear, a man’s hand covered her mouth. Petrified that she’d been caught, she spun around to face her “attacker.”

“You!” she exclaimed in a shocked whisper.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here,” Chaz Aleata said as he helped her out of the roses, leading her away from the house. “I knew something was up when I saw you rushing out of that diner, so I followed you.”

“You scared the crap out of me!” She gave him a solid slug on the arm. “Where the hell have you been, anyway? You ditched me at the church like your butt was on fire and I haven’t heard from you since!”

“I’m sorry I did that, but I saw someone I knew that I really didn’t want to talk to.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and leaned back against a tree. “Unfortunately, I ended up having to talk to him anyway.”

“You know these people?” Joy’s eyes grew wide with both shock and professional curiosity.

Chaz let out a heavy sigh, not sure exactly where to begin. “You remember I told you I’ve got an older sister in Canada that my father adopted when he was married to her mother?”

“Yeah.”

“Her mother was Meg Marriott.”

“The prodigal daughter?” Joy’s mouth hung open as her brain began to work a mile a minute – a source! She had an inside source!

“You’ve been doing your research, huh?” He let out a laugh.

“Well, I don’t exactly get paid to sit around on my butt all day.”

The shrill ringing of Joy’s cell phone – interestingly enough playing the theme to “Light of Love”, her favorite soap – interrupted the conversation. She pulled it out of her purse and scrunched up her nose in annoyance when she immediately recognized the number on the ID.

“What, Mother?” she asked, throwing up her hand to Chaz to signify that she’d need a moment. “I’m working on a story of the World Star.” A pause. “Oh, some dinky little town in the States – Rosehill.” A long pause. “Mom, what’s wrong? It’s not that big of a deal.” Another long pause. “Mom?”

With a look of utter shock and confusion, Joy closed the case of her phone and put it back in her purse.

“What’s wrong?” Chaz had no trouble seeing that her phone call hadn’t been a pleasant one.

“I-I don’t know.” Joy shook her head, still in shock. “As soon as my mother heard the word ‘Rosehill’, she absolutely freaked.”

Meg’s House, Living Room

“Let’s see, where were we?” Lester Powell muttered as he flipped to the next page in Meg Marriott’s will. He looked up, briefly, to see Meg’s family sitting in anxious anticipation. “Oh, yes. Here we are… ‘To my daughter Caroline Aleata Latimer and her husband Frederick Latimer…’”

“Oh, god,” Cal muttered with a sense of foreboding as she clutched Rick’s hand tightly.

“’I bequeath my house, grounds, and the entire contents thereof.’” Mr. Powell looked up from the will, curious as to what reactions he might see, before continuing. “There’s a personal message -- ‘I hope that now my daughter will finally see fit to come home.’”

“Leave it to my mother to try to control my life even from the grave.” Cal shook her head in disbelief and exasperation.

“She left you the house?” Ben was absolutely stunned. “You take off over 30 years ago and proceed to have absolutely nothing to do with her – and she even tried to reconcile with you plenty of times over the years – and she left you the house.”

“Ben, it’s all right.” Betsy gently placed her hand on his arm and whispered in his ear. “It’s just a house.” She quickly looked up and at Van, seemingly pleading with her eyes. See! This is all just too much for him to deal with! See why I’m worried?

“I don’t want the house, Ben!” Cal snapped back. “Rick and I already have a house – a home – in Quebec. You can have the house. I don’t want anything from that woman!”

“Ben, Cal, there’s plenty of time to work out the details,” Van spoke up in an attempt to put some wise perspective on the situation. “Mr. Powell, this is a difficult day for all of us. Is there anyway to move this along a little bit? Maybe that would make it easier for everyone.”

“Perhaps,” he replied. He flipped through several pages of the will, deciding what was absolutely necessary to go over and what could wait until a later time. “Well, other than a donation to the hospital, there is one last bequeath she’s made – to Dr. Crawford.”

“Me?” Tom furrowed his brow. He definitely wasn’t expecting to receive anything from Meg’s estate. “I… I don’t understand.”

“Dr. Crawford, to make this as brief and succinct as possible, Mrs. Marriott has left you with an endowment which will continue to fund a research grant for your work at the hospital.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” The contents of his mother’s will continued to be more confusing for Ben than he’d expected. “She pulled the funding for your research grant! Why would she do that if she was just going to give it back?”

“I gave up trying to figure out why our mother did half the things she did a long time ago, Ben,” Cal sighed.

“I don’t know, Ben. Meg wasn’t exactly planning on dying, I’m sure.” Of course, Tom was as shocked by the contents of Meg’s will as everyone else, but he didn’t care for his tone or subtly veiled insinuations he was seemingly making.

Meanwhile, in the foyer, Lt. Alphonso of the Rosehill Police Department stood alongside Officer Granger, silently observing the scene inside.

“Do you think this is a good idea, Lieutenant?” Officer Granger asked. “Do you really want to let them know what you’ve found?”

“I’ve got a feeling that whoever killed Mrs. Marriott knew her and knew her well,” Lt. Alphonso explained. “And who else would have something to gain by her death than someone included in her will. This is a calculated move.”

Without saying another word, he motioned for the officer to follow him into the room.

“Mr. Harper, I have some news,” Lt. Alphonso spoke up. “I believe we’ve found the gun.”

“W-what?” Ben quickly rose from his seat and went to the lieutenant. “Where? How?”

“That’s not important right now, Mr. Harper. This is still on ongoing investigation.” He pulled out a plastic baggie that contained the gun in question and proceeded to hand it to Officer Granger, but not so swiftly as to prevent nearly everyone in the room from seeing the bag’s contents. “Make sure the lab gets that as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir,” Officer Granger replied, taking the plastic bag into his hands.

Across the room, Tom’s eyes grew wide with nervous anxiety. He’d only gotten the briefest of looks at the gun in the plastic baggie the Lieutenant had held on the other side of the room, but it looked very familiar…