Episode #12

Tuesday, 5/8/07

Same Day, Late Afternoon

Tom’s Apartment, Living Room

Dr. Tom Crawford rushed through the front door, his mind racing with thoughts. As if Meg Marriott leaving him an endowment to maintain funding of his research grant – after pulling her funding only days before her death – weren’t enough to try to deal with and understand, the sight of the gun the police had found was.

True, he’d only gotten a quick glimpse of it and, yes, the view had been partially obstructed by the plastic baggie it had been in, but… No, it couldn’t be his gun. It wasn’t possible. His gun was hidden securely away in a locked box inside his safe.

Or was it?

Rita’s Diner

“Oh, really?” Joy Donovan leaned forward on her elbows, hanging on every word. She couldn’t believe her luck.

“Yeah! Listen, everything I’m telling you is gospel,” waitress Tracy Dixon assured with the utmost confidence. “I’ve lived in Rosehill my entire life. This isn’t exactly a big town, you know. Everybody knows everybody else’s business here.”

“Apparently!” Joy picked up her pen and scribbled a few more notes in her legal pad. “So, you’re telling me that Meg Marriott had been married several times?”

“Well, I hear she was married a couple of times before she ever moved to town.” Tracy, ignoring the fact that she was supposed to be working, slid into the booth next to Joy. “But she was married to Jeff Hart – he was the mayor here at one time, big scandal there. He was involved with some shady stuff and his son killed him – got carted off to some nut house. My mom told me all about that – big local legend. Then she was married to this young doctor at the hospital. Well, he’s not so young, now, this was years ago before I was even born. Mom told me about that, too.”

“Go on.” Joy couldn’t write fast enough to keep up with her, but she was giving it her best shot.

“He got some other doctor pregnant and then left his wife for the other doctor. Then… let’s see.” Tracy bit her lower lip and tapped her chin with her pencil as she slipped deep into thought. “Oh, yeah! I remember this because I was just a kid when it happened, but she was engaged to this guy running for governor. They didn’t get married, though. He keeled over from a heart attack at the altar and died before finishing the ceremony. Then, a several years ago, she married another doctor – the chief of staff at the hospital – Dr. Marriott. Then he left her for another woman.”

“Really?”

“Yep. And get this – the other woman was her own sister’s step-daughter!”

“Really?” Joy simply couldn’t believe her ears. Tracy was turning into the exact type of source that she needed – both knowledgeable and talkative.

“Barbara Sterling. That Sterling family is another story entirely.” Then, at just that moment, Tracy’s eyes grew wide with excitement as a familiar face stepped into the diner. “Speak of the devil!”

Joy’s eyes followed Tracy’s in the direction they were looking – right at a very handsome young man. “Who’s that? A special customer?”

“You could say that,” Tracy grinned. “That’s A.J. Sterling, Barbara Sterling’s nephew. Isn’t he great? He’s in here at least twice a day. He’s such a nice guy – and hot! And very well off! His family owns Carlson Paper & Publishing.” She gasped slightly when she remembered another important piece of information. “Do you watch ‘Light of Love’?”

“Well, of course!”

“Then you know his sister – Galen Sterling.”

“His sister is the Galen Sterling? Natalie Grayson herself?”

“Yep. Rosehill is Galen’s hometown.” Tracy sighed and shook her head. “That poor family. A.J. and Galen’s parents died in a plane crash when they were kids – did I tell you I went to school with Galen? Their Aunt Barbara had a nervous breakdown a couple of years ago and hasn’t really been the same since. She’s been confined to a hospital. And on top of that, Barbara’s son is in the military and missing in action in Iraq! They’ve managed to keep that quiet, though. Carlson owns the local paper, so they have the ability to do things like that. And would you believe that the father of Barbara Sterling’s son is married to Meg Marriott’s daughter?”

“Oh, this is just too juicy.” Joy flipped the page in her notebook. She’d already filled up ten full pages with all the information Tracy had given her own Rosehill’s finest citizens. “Tell me more.”

Tom’s Apartment, Living Room

Logically, Tom knew that the gun still had to be inside the locked box in his safe. The gun the police found couldn’t have been his, but he had to certain, if only to put his own mind at ease. However, as he walked over to the painting, which concealed the small wall-safe, a loud knock came at the door.

“Thank god you’re here,” Amy Marriott said, walking in and past Tom as he opened the door. “I know we usually call before getting together, but I really needed to vent.” She went straight for the small bar Tom kept in the corner and began to pour herself a Scotch – on the rocks.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Tom went over to her, but his eyes went toward the safe.

“Oh, just that loser husband of mine,” she sighed before taking another long gulp of Scotch. “You know we were supposed to have that meeting with the headmaster at Winfield because of Eric’s lack of attendance. Well, guess who never bothered to show up?”

“Maybe he forgot.” He poured himself a drink. “People do forget things, you know.”

“Andy forgets a lot of things.” She winced and started to stretch her shoulders. “All of this stress has given me horrible pain in my back and neck. Doctor, would you mind working your magic?”

“It would be my pleasure.” He took her by the hand and led her over to the sofa where he sat behind her and began to massage her back. “If you’re so unhappy with Andy, why do you stay married to him? Why did you even marry him in the first place?”

“I plead temporary insanity.”

“Amy, you married him twice. If I remember correctly, you fought Lynn tooth and nail for him.”

“Gee, thanks for bringing that up. You’re starting to sound like St. Van – bringing up every stupid thing I’ve ever done every chance you get.”

“You know that’s not what I’m doing.”

Amy took another sip of her drink and then let out a sigh. “I know. I’m sorry. When I first met Andy, he was handsome, exciting. He had dreams – ambition. It was all very appealing. Now that I’m older…” She paused and turned around to look at Tom. “Well, not that much older… I see that he doesn’t have any firm grounding in reality. Andy is nothing but dreams – just one stupid dream after another and none of it ever pans out.” She downed the rest of her Scotch and began to swirl the remaining ice cubes around in her glass, her eyes transfixed on them. “I do plan on leaving him, you know. Just as soon as Eric’s out of school and out of the house. He’s the only reason I remarried Andy in the first place. One stupid night of drinking and talking about old times and I turned up pregnant. I thought giving the baby a family was the right thing to do. I knew it’s what my father would’ve wanted me to do.” There was a long silence as both Amy and Tom reflected on the deep, personal confessions that she’d made. “Anyway, I’m sorry. I’ve completely monopolized everything. How are you? How have you been doing?”

“Well, I had a couple of shocks today,” Tom began. “Turns out Meg left me an endowment for a research grant in her will.”

“The same grant she just pulled out from under you?” Amy was clearly as shocked as Tom had been. “Leave it to Meg to change her mind twenty times – even after she’s dead and buried. Typical.”

“That’s not the big one.” He paused and considered how much he should really tell her. Deciding that she could be trusted with his concerns, he continued. “The police found the gun they think was used to kill Meg.”

“They did?”

“Yes, and… I know I didn’t get a really good look at it, but it looked like mine.”

“You can’t be serious!” Her jaw dropped. “How is that possible?” She paused. “You didn’t…”

“No! Of course I didn’t kill Meg. That’s crazy!” He jumped up from the couch and began to pace around the room. “I tell you, Amy, that gun looked exactly like mine, but I know full well it can’t be. I keep my gun locked away. No one but me has access to it and I haven’t touched it in a long time.”

“Then if you’ve still got it, that gun can’t be yours.” She laughed with the obviousness of her observation.

“Yes, I know. I was getting ready to get the gun out of the safe when you showed up.”

“The… safe?” The color quickly drained from Amy’s face.

“Yes, the safe. I keep my gun in a locked box with some private papers in my safe.”

As Tom walked over towards the safe and pulled back the painting that covered it, Amy sat in anxious silence on the sofa while every muscle in her body began to tighten. So much for the wondrous backrub she’d just received.

The Sterling Home, Living Room

“Suzanne, honey, what’s wrong?” Betsy Harper asked as she sat down next to her eldest daughter on the couch. “You’ve looked upset ever since we left your grandmother’s house.”

“It’s nothing,” Suzanne muttered, not even looking at her.

“I bet I know,” her sister Megan Harper spoke up. “Do you see her husband anywhere around? I bet he had to run out to Beaver Ridge to work with Alison Marriott. Isn’t that it, Suzanne?”

“Megan! That’s enough of that!” Betsy snapped as Suzanne simply glared at Megan. “Honestly, I can’t believe you say some of the things you do.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Suzanne sighed. “I’ve gotten used to her. She’s still the same as when she was a kid.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Megan folded arms tightly across her chest.

“So, anyway, Dad, like I said, I’ve been doing some thinking.” Megan’s twin sister Vanessa walked into the living room from the kitchen followed by Ben Harper. “And I’ve come to realize that I really do miss Rosehill. I mean, I do like New York, but it’s not… well… home. Do you know what I mean?”

“I know exactly what you mean, Sweet Pea.” Ben put his arm around her. “Rosehill is your home. No matter where you go in this world, you’ve always got Rosehill to return to.”

“Then… can I move home?” Vanessa bit her lip nervously. “I mean, with everything that’s happened lately, it just seems like I need to be here. Our family should be together right now.”

“Oh, honey, of course you can move home.” Betsy rose from the couch and hugged her daughter tightly.

“I, for one, can’t wait to get out of this rinkydink down,” Megan sighed. “I’m going back to Switzerland to finish my vacation.”

“Megan, I think your sister has the right idea.” Ben walked over to her and looked at her eye to eye. “I think our family needs to be together right now. I think you should stay in Rosehill, too. It’s time you moved home.”

“What?” Megan’s eyes grew wide. “You can’t be serious. You can’t make me move home. I’m an adult.”

“When’s the last time you had a real job?” he asked her point blank. “And I don’t mean one of those little modeling jobs for some catalog you do every once in a blue moon. I mean a real job.”

“I don’t need a ‘real’ job,” she laughed. “I have my own money.”

“What you have are credit cards – cards that I pay the balance on every month,” he reminded. “You have an apartment in the city you share with your sister that I help pay the rent on every month. You drive a sports car that I paid for and continue to pay the insurance on every month. It’s time you grew up and learned some responsibility. I admit, a lot of it is my fault for letting it get this far, but enough is enough.”

“This is crazy!” Megan turned towards her mother. “Mom, seriously, you can’t really be going along with this!”

“I think your father’s right, honey,” Betsy nodded. Meanwhile, back on the sofa, Suzanne could only sit in silence, resisting the urge to smile.

“You!” Megan turned to Vanessa who’d been standing in silence during the entire conversation. “This is all your fault! The perfect little princess! You sucked up to him and put him up to this!”

“I had nothing to do with this!” Vanessa shot back. “I’ve lived with you since the day we were born. If you want to blame someone, blame yourself.”

“Well, I don’t need you to pay my own way.” Megan shot her father a defiant stare. “Granny just left my a big ol’ trust fund in her will.”

“Apparently, you weren’t listening very well.” Ben’s tone was stern and serious. “You don’t get all of that money until you’re thirty or until you get married and have a family. Until then, I administer the money. You don’t get a dime unless I approve it and I’m not giving you a penny until you prove to me that you can act like a responsible adult.”

“You can’t do this!”

“Watch me.”