Matt

Because work has gotten the better of me in the last few weeks, my episode lead time has decreased significantly. Therefore, in order to get myself caught back up to a decent backlog of episodes, the series will be pre-empted this week (5/21-5/25) at the very least. I'm hoping to get things back up to speed and back to normal by next Monday. In casting news, in light of Leann Hunley returning to Days, I'll be recasting Betsy Crawford Harper in the coming weeks. I have a few strong contenders for the character. Also, the 1st new "contract" character added to the cast since the series premiere should debut shortly. Leo Kent, a suave European businessman, will be represented by images of Ben Richards who formerly played Bruno Milligan on the UK sudser "Footballers Wives".

Episode #20 Friday, 5/18/07 Same Day, Afternoon Tom’s Apartment Dr. Tom Crawford sat in silence, alone in the darkened room with only his thoughts. He’d pulled the shades tight and hadn’t even ventured to step outside. Reporters seemed to be everywhere and his phone had rung off the hook so much that he’d pulled the cord out of the wall in frustration. He sat on the sofa and sipped on a gin and tonic – he’s second of the day and it wasn’t much past noon. It was all starting to get to him. He’d been arrested and charged for the murder of Meg Marriott – a murder he hadn’t committed – and he was nearing his wit’s end. A loud knock at the door pulled him from his troubled thoughts. “Tom? Tom, it’s Betsy!” his sister’s voice came from the hallway. “Tom, open up!” He went to the door, pulled it open and nearly fell into Betsy’s arms. <object width="352" height="240"><param name="movie" value=" name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="352" height="240"></embed></object> Rita’s Diner “Double latté, just like you ordered it,” Tracy Dixon said as she set the drink down onto the table right before Megan Harper snatched it away from her silently motioning for her to leave. Less than amused by the attitude of her latest regular, Tracy scrunched up her nose and shot her an icy glare before turning and storming away. “So, you’ve snagged yourself a date with Alex, huh?” Megan said into her cell phone, held snuggly between her ear and shoulder. “How like you to go for a doctor.” She paused and took a sip of her latté. Sure, she couldn’t exactly afford it considering her current financial status, but she couldn’t resist them. “And where’s he taking you and this glorious date? Unhuh. Bella Rose? Well, hell! I can’t even get a man in this town to buy me coffee let alone dinner in the closest thing this town has to a swank restaurant.” Although she continued to listen intently to her twin sister Vanessa Harper on the phone, her eyes were drawn towards the front doors of the diner as A.J. Sterling walked in. She was also quick to notice that annoying little waitress making a quick beeline for him – nearly knocking over a customer in the process. What was that all about? “Well, there’s probably something wrong with him,” she continued with her conversation even though her eyes were firmly locked on Tracy and A.J. Megan only wished she could hear what they were talking about instead of listening to Vanessa prattle on about her date with the handsome Dr. Marriott. “Oh, don’t start with me Nessie.” She smirked, knowing full well that Vanessa hated the nickname Megan had fought so hard to stick her with when they were 12. “You have a wonderful time on your little date. I suppose I’m just supposed to sit home and knit or something.” Megan clicked her cell phone closed. She’d had about as much of Vanessa’s fawning over Alex as she could stand for one afternoon. Besides, she was much more interested in someone else’s fawning – Tracy over A.J. Unable to resist the urge any longer, she rose from her booth and went over to them. “A.J.! What a surprise!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. “I was just sitting over there having a latté. Would you like to join me?” “Um, sure, Megan,” he smiled before turning back to Tracy. “It was good seeing you again. You can just bring my coffee over there.” As Megan latched on tightly to A.J.’s arm, Tracy’s eyes followed them with what might be described by some as a death stare. Tracy didn’t care for the uppity Megan Harper one bit. “How have you been?” A.J. asking as he slid into the booth opposite Megan. “I’ve been better,” she sighed. “I’m not adapting to this town very well. I was just on the phone with Vanessa and…” Megan paused as her eyes began to sparkle with the beginnings of an idea. “And she and Alex are going out to dinner. They’ve invited me to come along, too.” A flat out lie. “But I don’t know if I should. I’d hate to be a third wheel.” “Alex and Vanessa?” A.J. leaned forward, intrigued. “Don’t tell me there’s a little romance brewing there?” “I don’t know, actually. I think they’re just friends. Anyway, if there is something more going on, I’d hate to feel like I were intruding. I know Vanessa only invited me to give me something to do, but…” She made the requisite pause. “I have an idea!” “About?” “Well, like I said, I’d hate to be a third wheel, but…” She smiled coquettishly and leaned forward onto her hands. “I wouldn’t be if I had a date, too.” “And you want me to be your date.” He nodded slowly, realizing exactly what Megan was proposing. “Please? You did offer to show me around Rosehill, and this would be a good place to start. I just don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb.” Megan reached out and grabbed his hand tightly. “Please?” “Okay,” A.J. sighed with a smile. “Just let me know when and where.” Megan leaned over the table and threw her arms around him, making sure to look past him and towards Tracy who was standing, seething, over in the corner. Feeling impish, Megan couldn’t resist the urge to smirk at Tracy and stick her tongue out at her. Tom’s Apartment “Here, drink this,” Betsy Harper said as she handed her brother Tom Crawford a mug of steaming coffee. “You’ll feel much better.” “I’d feel better if you’d give me back my gin.” Tom took the mug into his hands and slowly took a sip. “You know what kind of strain these last few days have been.” “I can only imagine,” she sighed, rising from the couch and walking over to the window so she could peek out. “I can’t believe how many reporters there are out there. I literally had to elbow my way through just to get into the building.” “Bad news travels fast.” He took another sip of his coffee. “I can only imagine how everyone’s reacting to this – Cal, Van… Ben.” “Ben’s not taking it too well,” Betsy confessed, returning to her seat next to Tom. “We had a pretty big blow up the other day before I came by to see you.” “You didn’t tell me about that.” “I didn’t really want to talk about it.” She lowered her head and let out a weary sigh. “To be honest, I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up here. I know how Ben can be about his mother.” “Oh, he wanted to, that’s for sure.” Betsy hung her head, heavy full of thoughts of how difficult Meg’s death had been on Ben. “He wanted to storm over here and bash your head in, but I… I think I’ve managed to talk him down.” Tom looked over at his sister with confusion and concern. “I told him that coming over here in the state he was in wouldn’t do anyone – you or him – any good. It took some doing, but I finally got him to realize that it was in no one’s best interest for him to fly off the handle half-cocked without examining all the facts. I reminded him that he should know as well as anyone how the police can be wrong and how, many times, the facts as they appear, aren’t really the facts at all.” “Thank you.” Tom looked down at his hands that were still holding the coffee mug very tightly. “I really don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve a sister as great as you.” “I’ll remind you that you said that sometime.” She smiled warmly in hopes that a touch of levity would ease the tension of the situation. “And don’t worry about Cal or Van or the girls. Neither Van nor Cal believe for an instant that you could’ve possibly had anything to do with this. I talked to both of them this morning and they both told me that they’re behind you 100%. And both Suzanne and Vanessa are behind you, too. Megan… well, she seems more concerned with her own issues at the moment than anyone else’s, but I know she doesn’t believe a word of it, either.” Betsy paused for a moment and looked at her brother intently. “Tom, do you have any idea who would go to so much trouble to steal your gun, kill Meg, and frame you? It’s obvious that this is all a setup. Who could possibly hate both you and Meg so much to do this?” Tom sat in still silence. No, he couldn’t tell her about his suspicions, fears, or concerns. He’d done too much in the past to protect her and he wasn’t about to lay any of that on her now simply because he’d found himself in a very difficult situation. “I have no idea,” he finally muttered after several long and tense moments. “Not a clue.” Betsy watched him carefully, taking in every worried line in his face. She knew her big brother too well and was certain that he wasn’t telling her everything. He did have an idea, but why wouldn’t he tell her? What in the world could he be hiding from her? Rita’s Diner “Up for some company?” Chaz Aleata asked as he tapped on the top of Joy Donovan’s laptop before slipping into the booth on the other side of the table from her. “Where the hell have you been?” she questioned angrily, slamming down the screen. “You have more disappearing acts than Houdini! I went by your room last night and knocked on your door, but either you weren’t there or you refused to answer.” “You know I’ve been busy doing research on my mother. I’ve been retracing the steps of her life here in Rosehill. I’m constantly in and out.” He paused and peered across the table at her. “Besides, what are you doing here? I’d think that since the news of Dr. Crawford’s arrest broke, you’d be camped out on his doorstep trying to get an exclusive for your rag.” “Easier said than done,” she sighed. “There are so many reporters swarming around from the regional press that I can’t even get standing room. I swear, those people are like vultures circling a fresh kill.” Chaz cocked an eyebrow, quick to notice the irony in her observation. “What’s that look for?” she asked curiously. “Oh, nothing.” He paused to lean back in his seat. “So, if you haven’t been trying to get an exclusive from Dr. Crawford, what have you been doing?” “Finishing up my first article on Meg Marriott’s murder,” she explained as she pulled her laptop back open. “I’ve almost got it finished; and I’m trying to convince my editor that we really need to be covering the Galen Sterling/Hank Latimer connection. You know, famous American soap star/soon-to-be famous movie actress worries over cousin missing in action – I think it could really appeal to the patriotic celebrity gawkers.” Joy looked down at her computer screen as she continued to type. “Have you found out anything else about your mother?” “I went by the house where she used to live this morning,” he began. “The people who live there weren’t home, but I met their next door neighbor. It turns out she knew my mother very well and she knows my father and my older sister Cal. She’s actually related to Cal.” “Related to Cal Latimer?” Joy looked up over the top of her laptop. “Who is this woman?” “Vanessa Sterling.” He was a little reluctant to divulge that information because he was quite aware that Joy had tabs on nearly everyone in Rosehill thanks to Tracy. “That’s Galen Sterling’s grand – err, step-grandmother! And she’s Meg Marriott’s sister!” She pushed her laptop aside and leaned forward on the table, very interested in anything Chaz might tell her. “Which makes her Cal’s aunt,” he continued. “Anyway, it turns out my father asked her to look out for me while I’m in town.” He shook his head. “What does he think I am? Still a kid? I’m a grown man and he acts like I can’t take care of myself! She asked me to stay with her while I’m in town.” “You’re going to do it, aren’t you?” “I… don’t know.” He was hesitant. After all, Chaz was very independent and didn’t like living off anyone else. He even refused to live off the trust fund his father had set up for him. “But you have to! You have to move in with Mrs. Sterling!” “Why? So you can pump me for any information about her sister’s murder I might find out?” “Of course!” Joy threw up her hands, surprised that her reasoning wasn’t completely obvious. “We’re partners, after all.” “Partners?” He eyed her curiously. “When did we become partners?” “You’ve kinda been along with me on this story since I got into town,” she reminded. “I just assumed we’d become partners. Besides, I couldn’t have done all that I’ve done so far without you. Please?” She reached over and grabbed his hand tightly. “Pretty please? You don’t have to pump anyone for any information, just keep your ears open and report back to me anything important you might overhear.” “I don’t know…” Chaz let out a heavy sigh. “Shouldn’t you be trying to get some information on Dr. Crawford? The police have charged him with Mrs. Marriott’s murder, after all.” “I’m working on that angle. Trust me.” Joy went back to work on her laptop. “I’ll work on getting to the good doctor and you set up shop at chez Sterling and keep your ears open.” She paused to make a click with her mouse. “There! My first report is edited and sent.” She pushed her laptop closed and returned her focus to Chaz. “Please? Move in with Vanessa Sterling.” “I’ll… think about it.” Chaz leaned back in his seat and folded his arms tightly across his chest. He didn’t like the idea of spying on a kindly old woman just so that Joy could get an exclusive, but he also realized that Vanessa Sterling might be an invaluable source of information for him about his own mother. It was definitely a decision that required a lot of thought and consideration. “Could you hold on a sec?” Joy asked as she pulled out her cell phone. “I need to call my editor and tell her I sent my first article.” She paused and waited for the call to connect. “Yes, it’s Joy. I just finished my first installment on the Marriott story. It should be in your inbox shortly.” A pause. “Yeah, I’m working that angle, too, because there’s been an arrest. It’s all in there. And I may have a potential inside source.” She looked over at Chaz and flashed him a broad and knowing grin. “Gotcha. I’ll have my next piece ready and in your box in a few days.” She clicked her phone closed and shoved it back into her purse before returning her focus solely on Chaz. “I’m gonna do such a good job on this story that she’s gonna be forced to give me a promotion. Just you see!” Meanwhile, across the ocean at the British headquarters of the World Star, Joy’s editor and boss Mia Osborne leaned back in her chair in her office and slowly exhaled. Her job was done. <object width="352" height="240"><param name="movie" value=" name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="352" height="240"></embed></object>

Episode #19 Thursday, 5/17/07 Same Day, Late Morning John & Suzanne’s Home, Living Room “You are such a precious little angel,” Vanessa Sterling cooed as she cradled her great-grandniece Tess Prentiss in her arms. “Yes, you are.” She turned to pick up a bottle for the baby when, out of the corner of her eye, she swore she thought she saw someone lurking outside the living room window in the bushes. Van gently placed the baby back into the bassinet and quietly walked over to the window in order to get a better look, curious as to whether her eyes had played a trick on her or not. As she approached the window, the sudden chimes of the doorbell startled her and she let out a gasp, quickly followed by a laugh of nervous relief. “Yes?” she said as she opened the front door, unaware that the man standing on the Prentiss’ front doorstep was none other than Chaz Aleata. <object width="352" height="240"><param name="movie" value=" name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="352" height="240"></embed></object> The Sterling Home, Living Room “There you are,” Cal Latimer said at the sight of her husband Rick walking through the front door. “I was wondering where you disappeared to so quickly this morning.” “I went out to Beaver Ridge,” he confessed, the proposal Andy Marriott had given him earlier shoved under his arm. “John and Andy wanted to meet with me.” “About?” She eyed him suspiciously. There was something in the tone of his voice and his demeanor that was slightly unsettling for her. Rick walked over to the coffee table and pushed several things aside so that he’d have the room to fully spread out the plans and diagrams he’d been shown earlier. Meanwhile, Cal watched him anxiously. “John and Andy want me to buy into Beaver Ridge,” he explained as he laid out the last of the diagrams. “They had another partner pull out because of personal matters and they’ve offered me a full partnership in the development.” “You can’t be serious!” She went over and grabbed him by the arm. “Why in the world would you want to get involved with Beaver Ridge again?” “Honey, they made a very attractive offer.” Rick’s eyes remained locked on the plans. “I’d be foolish not to at least consider it.” “We’ve already got a business back home.” Cal stood eyeing him in disbelief. “This trip to Rosehill is only a temporary deal. As soon as we decide what to do with my mother’s house, we’re going home.” “Will is completely capable of running Northern Lights by himself.” He paused to hold up one diagram to the light so he could get a better look. “Besides, you know how he’s been asking about having more responsibilities. I think he’s ready to take over the entire operation. And as far as Meg’s house goes, why don’t we just live in it. It’s ours, after all.” “Rick!” He laid down the plans and looked up at his wife, immediately seeing her sense of worried concern. “I know. I know. But I need this. I need something to completely throw myself into.” He paused and quickly looked away, uncomfortable with the emotion that he knew was beginning to show in his eyes. “I need something this involved to take my mind off of Hank. You know as well as I do that the government and the military don’t have any more answers about where he is – whether he’s even still alive – than they did a couple of months ago. All I’m doing back in Quebec is sitting in my office, staring at the walls, wondering where the hell my son is.” “But… Beaver Ridge?” Even though Cal’s heart went out to her husband – she knew better than anyone what he’d been going through – she couldn’t get past her apprehensions regarding a more permanent stay in Rosehill. “Yes, honey – Beaver Ridge.” He looked up at her, his eyes almost pleading for her cooperation and support. Cal stood in silence, unsure of what to do. She had a bad feeling about all of it, but did she really have the right to tell Rick “no”? She wasn’t sure what she should do. John & Suzanne’s Home, Living Room “I’m… sorry,” Chaz muttered awkwardly as he stood on the front step. “I… I hate to bother you, ma’am, but my mother used to live here and I… I just wanted to look around. If that’s okay?” “Your mother?” Van’s eyes grew wide when she suddenly realized who the mysterious young man at the door was. “You’re Charles – I mean Chaz – aren’t you?” “Yes, ma’am.” He eyed her curiously. “How did you…?” “I’m an old friend of your father Eddie. I’m Cal’s aunt Vanessa Sterling.” She held the door wide open and motioned for Chaz to come in. “Your father was married to my sister Meg.” “Oh, I’m so sorry for what happened.” Chaz stepped further into the living room, nervous about meeting the late Meg Marriott’s sister as well as seeing his own late mother’s former home. “I… didn’t know you lived here.” “I don’t, actually,” Van laughed. “I live next door. My grandniece – Cal’s niece – Suzanne and her husband live here. I’m just babysitting.” She motioned over to the bassinet. “Oh.” He slowly turned and looked around the room, taking it all in, and trying to imagine what it might have looked like when his mother had lived there. “Did you… know my mother?” “I knew Felicia very well,” Van smiled, coming up behind him to put and gentle hand on his shoulder. “I considered her a very dear friend. She loved both you and your father very much.” “They said she was married to someone else, though.” “Yes, she was – Charles Lamont. He was the man you’re named after. He was a very dear friend, too. It was just a situation that didn’t work out.” She paused for a moment and thought. “Suzanne’s husband John is actually Charles’ grandson. In fact, that’s how Charles and your mother met – she was little Johnny’s art teacher. I remember that before you were born, John thought you were going to be the little brother he’d never had.” Chaz walked over to a side table and picked up a framed photograph of John, Suzanne, and baby Tess. “I guess I should come back and talk to him, then. Maybe he can tell me about some of his memories of her.” “You know, Chaz, I have an idea.” Van’s eyes nearly lit up. “Where are you staying while you’re in town?” “The Rosehill Inn. Why?” “Like I said, I live right next door. Why don’t you stay with me?” She reached out and grabbed his hand tightly, yet lovingly. “My late husband and I always considered your father as part of the family and Cal and Rick are staying with me, too, while they’re in town. I know she’d love to see you.” “I… I don’t know,” he stammered, not quite sure what to make of Van’s offer. “I wouldn’t want to impose. You really don’t know me.” “Nonsense!” She looked him directly in the eyes. “Your father told me you were in town and I made a promise to him that I’d look out for you. Besides, like I said, Cal and Rick are staying with me and you want to talk to John. I’m right next door. At least think about it.” “I… I’ll do that,” he muttered, feeling both touched and awkward by her generosity. “I’ll think about it.” Amy’s Car, Outside Alison’s Apartment Building “Thank god,” Amy Marriott sighed as she tossed her briefcase into the passenger seat of her car before climbing inside. She’d been worried that, somehow, her daughter Alison had found the briefcase and had discovered its contents; but now she was relieved to know that wasn’t the case at all. The briefcase had been exactly where she’d hidden it – deep behind an armoire in Alison’s apartment. Unable to wait any longer, She popped the lock on the briefcase and carefully pulled it open, revealing Tom’s mysterious locked box, which had been discovered missing from his safe. Amy had taken it. She’d only been following a hunch, of course. She hadn’t known for sure that the box contained the papers she’d been searching for. All she’d known was that they were definitely in Tom’s possession and, more likely than not, hidden somewhere inside Tom’s apartment. “I’m surprised you managed to slip away from Andy tonight,” a tuxedo-clad Dr. Tom Crawford said as he moved around his apartment. “I wish I had more time to spend with you.” “I know you’ve got that diner party Meg’s throwing to go to,” Amy muttered while she put on an earring. “Andy’s dragging me to it, too. He said, since he’s in business with her at Beaver Ridge, he has to at least make an appearance.” She paused as her eyes followed him around the room. “I hope he makes it an early evening. The less time I have to spend around that woman the better.” “Hmmm… cufflinks,” he muttered to himself as he looked down at the cuffs of his shirt. “I should probably wear those expensive ones Meg gave me back when we were married. She is funding that research grant, after all, and we both know how she likes to be buttered up.” Tom walked over to his wall safe, completely unaware that Amy was watching his every move. Of course! Where else would Tom hide those files? She watched intensely as he pulled back the painting and opened the safe. Even from across the room, she could see the locked box sitting in the safe. Amy examined the box carefully but a knot quickly began to form in the pit of her stomach – the box had obviously been tampered with. The lock was broken – smashed. Amy carefully moved through the darkened apartment, turning her flashlight ever so carefully. It had been easier than she’d thought to jimmy the lock on the front door with her credit card – she’d only thought that trick worked on TV. Pulling the painting back to expose the wall safe, she inhaled deeply. Could she really figure out what combination Tom would use? How could she be expected to know such things? She’d already work so hard to gain Tom’s confidence and trust… Bingo! Amy fought the urge to laugh at how predictable Tom truly was. He’d used his own birth date! For someone so seemingly hell bent on keeping those documents hidden away as leverage, he was certainly easy enough to figure out. Making a hurried inventory of the safe, pushing the jewelry box containing Tom’s cufflinks aside, she didn’t find the papers, but she did find the locked box she’d secretly seen only days earlier. Surely, that had to be where he kept them. There was no time to find a way into the box, so she hurriedly decided to take the box with her. She’d manage to get it open, get those files, and replace it before Tom was any the wiser – but Amy knew that she couldn’t keep it at home. Her son Eric had a nasty habit of going through her things looking for extra spending money. She couldn’t risk him discovering something far more valuable. Amy lifted the lid of the box anxiously. There they were – the very documents she’d been looking for. “Damn, they really did have the goods on you,” she muttered as she quickly read through the papers. Turning to again look into the box, she could clearly see that Tom’s gun, which by his own admission had been kept there, was missing. The knot in Amy’s stomach began to grow larger. Who’d found the box, broken the lock, and gotten an eyeful of the contents – only to take the gun and leave the really important stuff? She reached for her cell phone and hurriedly dialed a number. “It’s Amy,” she said, the phone pressed to her ear. “I’ve got the evidence. It was exactly where I said I thought it was.” A pause. “Yes, but I think we’ve got trouble.” <object width="352" height="240"><param name="movie" value=" name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="352" height="240"></embed></object>

Episode #18 Wednesday, 5/16/07 A Few Days Later, Morning Alison’s Apartment, Living Room Alison Marriott sat on the sofa, still in her robe, drinking a cup of coffee – her second cup of the morning. Unfortunately, the double dose of caffeine wasn’t doing much good. She’d barely slept all night. In fact, she’d barely slept for the last few nights – she’d had far too much on her mind. Paulson had completely pulled out of the Beaver Ridge project thanks to his discovery of the truth about the books and plans – a truth that both she and her father Andy Marriott had worked hard to keep from him. “Damn Meg,” Alison muttered to herself. It was all Meg’s fault, as usual. Meg had managed to mail Paulson a copy of the real books and plans that looked nothing like the records they’d shown him. However, Alison’s stress and worry was really caused by the fact that, while Meg might have been the one to mail the documents to Paulson, she hadn’t been the original source. It had been Alison, herself… <object width="352" height="240"><param name="movie" value=" name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="352" height="240"></embed></object> John & Suzanne’s Home, Kitchen Suzanne Prentiss moved swiftly around the kitchen, finishing the last touches on the elaborate breakfast she’d woken up extra early to prepare. She was determined that, for a change, she and her husband John were going to sit down and have a meal together, even if it were only bacon, eggs, and toast. She walked over to the kitchen door and called out, “John, I’ve got…” “No time this morning, Sweetheart,” John Prentiss interrupted as he rushed into the room, pulling on a light jacket, a jumbled mass of papers shoved under his arm. He headed straight for the coffee maker and poured a steaming stream of coffee into his travel mug. “I’ve got to get out to Beaver Ridge. Andy and I have a meeting with a potential investor.” “W-what about breakfast?” Her eyes were wide with shock and disappointment. She’d gone to so much work. “I thought we could have breakfast as a family this morning.” She walked over to the small bassinet in the corner and picked up their infant daughter Tess. “I mean, since you haven’t managed to eat a meal at home in weeks.” “I’d love to, Honey, but I can’t.” John took a quick gulp of coffee and then refilled his mug. “We’re in a crisis right now. Without Paulson out, the entire project is on the line. If we don’t figure out something quick, the entire thing could go under.” “Do you know how sick I am hearing about Beaver Ridge?” Suzanne could feel her temper begin to rise. “You’re never here because of that place! You’re gone before Tess even wakes up and she’s already down for the night before you ever manage to make it home! I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m raising our daughter as a single parent!” “Honey, don’t you think you’re over exaggerating just a bit?” He paused as he quickly scanned some papers he needed for the meeting. “You know that until Beaver Ridge is up and running, it’s going to take up a lot of my time. I told you that before I ever signed onto this project.” “I know, but…” “Maybe because you’ve just forgotten how much time work actually takes up since you’ve decided not to work.” He shoved the papers back under his arm and hurried over to give both Suzanne and Tess quick kisses before turning to rush out the door. “Look, I’m running late. We’ll talk about this later when I get home. It’ll probably be late, though. There’s a lot of ground to cover today.” Suzanne could do nothing but stand in stunned silence as her husband disappeared through the back door and out of the house. She turned and eyed the uneaten breakfast, now cold, on the table and she felt her jaw tighten before snatching up the plates of food in an angry rush, scraping everything into the garbage, and slamming the dishes into the sink. “What’s going on in here?” her aunt Vanessa Sterling asked curiously as she stood at the back door, slightly alarmed by Suzanne’s demeanor. “I saw John leaving…” “He’s always leaving,” Suzanne grumbled. “Always running off to Beaver Ridge.” “Honey, it’s only going to be for a few more months.” Van put her hand on her niece’s shoulder. “Once the place is up and running again, things will settle down.” “And then he’ll find something else to obsess over.” Suzanne leaned back against the counter, her shoulders slumped and weighted by the stress of her situation. “I remember when I was his obsession, but now…” “John loves you very much.” Van looked her niece directly in her eyes, punctuating her statement. “Don’t you ever doubt that. And don’t you forget that you were once very passionate about your work, too. You should be able to understand what John’s going through right now.” “You know, Van, you’re right.” A new look of determination washed over Suzanne. “Do you think you could watch Tess for a few hours? I’ve got… a few errands I need to run.” “Of course, I can. You know how much I adore this precious little angel.” Van walked over to the bassinet and picked up baby Tess. “You take care of whatever it is you need to do. This little girl and I will be just fine.” “Thank you, Aunt Van!” Suzanne gave her a tight hug and kissed her daughter. She was more excited and impetuous than she’d felt in a long time. As she rushed out of the kitchen and upstairs to change clothes, she quickly pushed aside any reservations and doubts that were lingering inside her head. There was no time for any of that now – no time at all. Alison’s Apartment, Living Room Alison rushed into the living room, hurriedly finishing dressing for work. She’d tried all morning to push thoughts and worries about Meg Marriott and those damning documents she’d sent to Paulson out of her head, but the more she struggled to forget, the more she remembered… “Meg, what do you want?” Alison said into her cell phone, annoyed by yet another one of Meg’s calls. She’d been forced to deal with Meg for months as part of Beaver Ridge and was thrilled when her father Andy had finally managed to buy out Meg’s part of the project. Now, however, Meg was popping up in her life more and more and Alison didn’t like it. “I… I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, Meg. You’ve seen all the books and plans for the project. Why would you be interested in any of that now?” But Meg had been interested… very interested. Somehow, she’d discovered that Alison and Andy had been moving numbers around in the books and had been cutting corners on construction – activities that their other partner Paulson definitely was not privy to. Alison didn’t know how Meg had come upon her suspicions, but she most definitely did know that Meg was hell bent on doing whatever it took to prove them. “Meg, you’re talking craziness,” Alison snapped angrily into the phone. “You’re making stuff up in your head again. No wonder my father wanted you out of Beaver Ridge.” A long pause. “Pictures? What pictures? Meg, what the hell are you talking about?” Alison opened her front door, finding a large envelope propped up against the doorframe. With nervous trepidation, she picked it up and held it in her hands, simply staring at it for several long moments. “Y-yes, I’m still here,” she muttered into the phone. “O-okay.” Alison hurriedly tore open the envelope and pulled out a series of photographs of her – in various unseemly circumstances and situations. None of them were appropriate for either framing or Christmas cards. Alison walked over to the mirror and fumbled with her earrings as she tried to put them in. Placing her hands on the side table and leaning forward, she exhaled slowly, trying not to think about what she’d done. Alison quietly stepped into her father’s makeshift office in the lobby of Beaver Ridge. It wouldn’t be much trouble at all since she knew exactly where he kept all of his important papers. In a matter of minutes, she pulled all the necessary files, documents, and plans out of the cabinet and hurriedly ran them through the copier before putting everything back into its rightful place and shoving the copies into her bag. A loud knock at her door roused Alison from her troubled thoughts. It was her mother, Amy Marriott. “What’re you doing here?” Alison asked, shocked and a little annoyed by her mother’s unexpected visit. “Shouldn’t you be at the office by now?” “That’s kinda why I’m here.” Amy anxiously glanced around the apartment. “I think I left my spare briefcase here a few weeks ago – you know, the monogrammed one you and Eric got me for Christmas that year? I don’t use it very much because I don’t want to ruin it, but I left some files in it on a case I’m working on and I think I left it here. I came by the other day looking for it, but you weren’t here. I guess you were busy out at Beaver Ridge.” “Well, I haven’t seen it,” Alison sighed, heading for her bedroom. “I’ve got to finish getting ready for work. You can look around if you want.” “Thanks. I’m sure it’s here somewhere.” Once Alison was out of the room, Amy immediately went to the large armoire in the corner of the room, knelt down beside it, and reached behind it. “Damn it. Where are you?” she grumbled to herself until she felt the briefcase with her hand. Quickly grabbing it, she pulled it out and heaved a sigh of relief. “Found it!” “That was fast,” Alison commented, walking back into the room. “Oh, I had a feeling I knew where it was.” Amy made a show of looking at her watch. “Look at the time. I really need to get to the office. I’ll call you later and we can go to lunch or something.” “Yeah, sure, Mom.” Alison eyed her mother curiously as she watched her rush out of the apartment. She couldn’t help but think that her mother was acting rather strange this morning, but then quickly brushed those thoughts away. Beaver Ridge Complex, Lobby “I’m glad you agreed to meet with us, Rick,” Andy Marriott said as he extended his hand. “I think you’ll find the proposal John and I have worked up to be very informative.” “That’s what you said on the phone.” Rick Latimer stood in the center of the room and looked around. “But I can pretty much assure you that you’re wasting your breath. Beaver Ridge is a thing of the past for me.” “Maybe, maybe not.” Andy walked over to the coffee maker that sat on a stack of crates. “Would you like a cup?” “Thank you.” Rick took the Styrofoam cup from Andy and then took a lengthy sip. “So, Andy, let’s skip the chitchat and get right to the point. Tell me about this proposition and what it has to do with Beaver Ridge.” “You have a history with this place, Rick. You’re the one who made Beaver Ridge the destination spot it was years ago.” “That was a long time ago. I turned over my interest when Cal and I moved to Canada. I haven’t been involved with Beaver Ridge in over 30 years.” “But, still, you know this place better than anyone.” Andy paused and eyed Rick anxiously. He knew he had to play his cards exactly right. “As I told you the other day, we recently had an investor pull out for… personal reasons.” Yeah, right. “That gives us a partnership position available and John and I both thought about you.” “Guys, sorry I’m late,” John said as he rushed into the room. “I got tied up at home with Suzanne and couldn’t get away.” He stopped and eyed both Andy and Rick. “I suppose you’ve been discussing the potential partnership in Beaver Ridge?” “John, I was about to tell Andy that I don’t have any interest in Beaver Ridge anymore,” Rick explained cautiously. “Cal and I already have a business in Canada. I’m not looking to invest in anything else. Besides, we’ve got a lot of family issues going on right now. I have a son who’s missing in Iraq; Cal’s mother just died…” “Suzanne’s grandmother,” John reminded. “I’m a part of the same family, Rick. We both married into it.” “Yes, I know that, John, but I have other things I need to deal with right now.” Rick shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away from them, his eyes taking in the full expanse of the lobby while his mind drifted back to another time long ago. “Cal and I are only here temporarily for a visit because of Meg. We’re only here to deal with some family business.” “Haven’t you said, yourself, that your resort pretty much runs itself?” John’s eyes went from Rick to Andy who stood in silence as a slight grin crossed his face. “I know you’ve left Will to run the place while you’re in town, so you know it’s in good hands.” “Yes, but…” “You could consider this a family venture. You’re Suzanne’s uncle. I know she’d appreciate it if you were a part of Beaver Ridge.” “Just look at our proposal.” Andy handed Rick a large packet of information. “I’m sure you’ll see that this place is definitely a worthwhile investment for you.” Rick took several minutes and thumbed through the proposal, examining every financial record, building plan, and diagram presented to him. As he held up one diagram for the lobby, he could begin to visualize the end result based on the plans combined with the work already completed. He nodded slowly, yet resisted the urge to smile. “Rick, I know you,” John finally spoke up. “I know you like a challenge. When was the last time the resort was a challenge to you?” “It’s been a long time,” he confessed. “Like you said – it pretty much runs itself.” “And what could be more of a challenge for you than to be a part of bringing Beaver Ridge back – not just to the glory that it once was, but even better?” John’s eyes darted from Rick to Andy who quietly nodded. “If I agree on this,” Rick spoke tentatively, “I’d have to talk it over with Cal first. But I can pretty much predict that she’s not going to be in favor of it.” “Do you really have to get your wife’s permission on every move you make?” It was a calculated risk on Andy’s part, but he was following a hunch. John, however, was less than pleased with his partner’s goading style and let him know as much with a stern glance. “Not every move,” Rick replied, his eyes still focused on the proposal, “but she and I are business partners as well as husband and wife.” “But I’m sure once you explain all of the positives of this to her, she’ll understand what an excellent move it is for you both professionally and personally. John and I are proposing a full partnership to you – equal ownership.” Andy reached into his briefcase and pulled out several documents. “I took the liberty of having our attorneys go ahead and draw up the necessary papers. All you have to do is go over them and sign them and all of this is yours again – partially, of course.” Rick took the contracts from Andy and went over them carefully as his mind raced with the possibilities. Did he dare sign them and commit himself to Beaver Ridge once again? Did he really want to wait and allow Cal to talk him out of it, or did he want to take a calculated risk. As he came to the part of the contract where he was supposed to sign, Rick’s mind was a whirl with far more questions than answers and the only thing in his immediate line of sign was Andy Marriott holding a pen in his outstretched hand. <object width="352" height="240"><param name="movie" value=" name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="352" height="240"></embed></object>

Episode #17 Tuesday, 5/15/07 Same Day, Early Evening The Harper Home, Living Room “Yes?” Ben Harper said into the telephone as he cradled it next to his ear. “Oh, yes, Lt. Alphonso. News?” He paused and listened intently. “W-what? But… that doesn’t make any sense. Why would…?” He paused again as his brow began to furrow at the information he was being given. “No, I… I suppose there isn’t any other explanation. I… Thank you, Lieutenant, for keeping me informed.” As he hung up the phone, the full impact of the news he’d just received began to hit him and he felt his anger begin to rise. “Damn him!” he shouted angrily, slamming his fist down onto the side table, sending a framed picture of him and his wife Betsy crashing to the floor. “Damn him!” “Ben! Ben, what is it?” Betsy Harper called out as she rushed into the room, alerted by his shouting and by the sound of breaking glass. “Ben, what’s wrong?” “I can’t believe that sonofabitch did it!” He shouted. “Who?” She grabbed him by the arms in an attempt to calm him and to force him to explain what he was talking about. “They just arrested that damn brother of yours for murdering my mother!” <object width="352" height="240"><param name="movie" value=" name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="352" height="240"></embed></object> Tom’s Apartment, Living Room “Thank God you got me out of there as quickly as you did,” Dr. Tom Crawford sighed wearily as he came through the door, followed closely by Amy Marriott. “I don’t know if I could’ve lasted an entire night in that place.” “It pays to have a judge or two owe you a favor.” Amy headed straight for Tom’s bar and poured her self a Scotch on the rocks – a double. “Having a few years as district attorney on your resume comes in handy from time to time.” “Well, however you managed it – thanks. I owe you one.” “Don’t worry. I won’t forget.” She paused and took another sip of her drink. “But what the hell were you thinking talking to the police without an attorney present, anyway?” “I didn’t have a reason not to talk to them!” He couldn’t help but pace around the room. The latest turn of events – being arrested for Meg’s murder – had naturally thrown him for a loop. “I didn’t do anything.” Tom was quick to see Amy’s eyes firmly fixed on him. “Honestly! I did not kill Meg!” “I know! I know!” She threw her hands up in the air in an attempt to calm him. After all, she most definitely did know. “I never thought you did do it, but I had to hear it from you. I’ve got to know where I need to start so I can get you out of this mess.” “Amy, it’s obvious that whoever broke into my safe and took that lock box used my gun to kill Meg and then left it at Meg’s house to frame me for it.” He ran his hand down his face, pausing to cover his mouth, as he began to think deeply. “Do you have any idea who’d want to frame you?” She paused and listened closely. Did he have an idea? Could he possibly know? Tom stood in silence for several long minutes. Yes, he did have an idea. He could think of only one person those documents in his locked box would matter to – only one person who would have even the slightest reason to want to exact that kind of revenge on him. And it had not a single thing to do with Meg Marriott. “Tom?” Amy asked, growing impatient with the amount of time it was taking for him to answer. “Do you know?” “No,” he finally answered. “I don’t have any idea.” He couldn’t tell her the truth. Not without being 100% certain and not without talking to someone else first about his suspicions. “Then where were you when Meg was murdered? If we can place you somewhere else at that exact time, then it’s impossible for the police to continue to think you did it.” “I was with you that night. Remember?” “Damn.” She threw back the last of her drink in one gulp. “I’m sure Andy will love to hear that one.” Pausing for a moment, her mind began to work overtime. “Look, Tom, I’ve got to go check on something. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She turned and began to head towards the door. “Whatever you do, do not leave this apartment and do not talk to anyone. Be very careful because the police and the news media are going to be watching every single move you make. You do one thing wrong, and I’m not going to be able to do a damn thing for you.” As the door closed behind Amy, Tom sunk down onto the sofa and buried his head in his hands. This was not the day he’d planned for when he crawled out of bed that morning and if his suspicions and fears were true, then his being framed could very easily become the least of his worries. Meanwhile, in the hallway outside Tom’s apartment Amy wrung her hands nervously. She knew what she had to do and she had to do it immediately. However, she had no idea that someone was watching her and following her very closely… The Harper Home, Living Room “W-what?” Betsy’s eyes grew wide with shock and confusion. “What are you talking about?” “That was Lt. Alphonso on the phone,” Ben began to explain, his range and anger hovering right at their boiling point. “They traced that gun they found at Maggie’s to your brother and they’ve proven that it was the gun that killed my mother.” “That’s…that’s impossible! Tom would never…” “The police are convinced that he killed Maggie. They arrested him and charged him with her murder. The cops just don’t go around arresting people for no good reason!” Ben broke away from his wife and began to pace anxiously around the room. “They’re… they’re wrong!” she cried out. “Honey, you know Tom! You know he couldn’t do something like this!” “Bets, I didn’t want to believe it, either.” Ben paused and looked up at framed photograph of his mother that sat on the mantle of their fireplace. “But the more I think about it…” “No!” “Honey, didn’t you think it was odd how he got himself included in her will?” He spun around to face Betsy, the gears of his mind reflected in his eyes as he quickly began to string together seemingly unconnected events. “The only other people included in that will were family – Tom’s not family!” “He’s my brother!” Betsy couldn’t believe her ears – Ben honestly thought that Tom did murder Meg. “He is family!” “Not my mother’s family, he isn’t!” he snapped angrily. “Sure, they were married a long time ago – an utter disaster if I remember correctly – but even then it was only because of what he could get out of her!” “You know why Tom married your mother! You know she didn’t give him much of a choice! If he hadn’t married her, she would’ve ruined Liane’s career! Meg pretty much blackmailed him into it!” “I never really understood that twisted little friendship they had going all these years.” Ben continued to ramble on, barely even acknowledging his wife’s comments. “She’d dangle those little grants in front of his eyes like carrots and he’d jump and snap like a little trained dog.” “Ben, you know that’s not how it was!” Betsy went to him and grabbed him by the arm in an attempt to force him to listen to her. “Tom would never have done anything to hurt Meg.” “And when she yanked that last grant out from under him, I bet that was the last straw.” He turned away from Betsy and grabbed the fireplace mantle with both hands to steady himself, his breathing heavy and labored. “I bet that pushed him right over the edge. I don’t know how he knew it, but I bet he found out that my mother had put him in her will and he just had to have that money for his damned project!” “You’re crazy if you can seriously think that my brother had anything to do with…” “Then call me crazy!” He spun around to face her with a blazing fire in his eyes. “That bastard murdered my mother in cold blood!” “I’m not listening to this.” Betsy quickly turned away from him, unable to bear Ben’s wild accusations any longer. “You’re not making a damn bit of sense.” “Where the hell are you going?” “I’ve got to get out of here,” she explained, struggling to remain calm. “I can’t listen to any more of this. I’m going to go see Tom and let him know that I’m on his side.” “The hell you are!” “Ben Harper, don’t you even think about stopping me!” Her eyes locked with his. “And I can assure you that you don’t want me around right now. I’m not going to stay here and listen to your half-crazed notions about my brother based on some flimsy evidence the police have managed to string together because they can’t find a decent lead!” “Betsy, don’t you dare walk out on me right now!” He chased after her, but she refused to stop, storming out the front door and slamming it behind herself so loudly that it nearly shook the entire house. Rosehill Hospital, Research Lab Dr. Alex Marriott struggled to keep his mind on his work as he eyed a specimen through his microscope, but he simply couldn’t focus. It hadn’t even been 30 minutes since he’d gotten the word about Tom’s arrest and Alex was still numb with shock. The respect Dr. Tom Crawford – a murderer? It just didn’t make any sense. “Alex?” his grandfather, chief of staff Dr. Andrew Marriott said as he poked his head into the lab. “I… suppose you’ve heard the news?” “I just found out, Granddad,” Alex sighed, pushing himself away from the table. “I don’t even know what to think right now.” “I’m right there with you.” Andrew stepped into the lab. The atmosphere was understandably solemn and dour. “Of course, the board isn’t too thrilled about Tom’s arrest, either. I just came from a meeting with them.” “Oh, god.” Alex hung his head, full of foreboding. “What happened?” “They’ve put Tom on an involuntary suspension pending the outcome of the investigation and trial.” “Granddad, they can’t do that!” Alex jumped up out of his chair, angry from the news. “He’s in charge of this entire project! I’m barely out of my residency. There’s no way I can do this on my own. Without Tom, we’ll have to shut everything down!” “I know, Alex. I know.” Andrew hung his head, pained by his grandson’s disappointment. “I tried everything I could with the board. I explained to them how important his work is to this project, but they’re concerned about how having him affiliated with the hospital in any way is going to look to the public. Truthfully, I can see their point. There’s nothing I can do.” “But we’re so close.” Alex slumped back down into his chair, slamming his pencil down on the table. “Damn it.” “I… I hope I haven’t come at a bad time,” Vanessa Harper spoke up as she stood in the doorway. She instantly sensed the tension in the room as well as Andrew and Alex’s long faces. “I could come back…” “No, no, it’s all right,” Alex muttered, rising to greet her. “Just a little bad news, but it’ll… be all right.” “I’ve really got to get back to my office for a meeting.” Andrew headed for the door, but not before pausing to kiss Vanessa on the cheek. “It’s always good to see you.” “You, too, Dr. Marriott.” Once Andrew had left the lab, Vanessa turned her full attention on Alex. “What happened? What bad news.” “Just some work stuff,” Alex muttered, deciding it would be best for him not to break the news about her uncle’s arrest to her. She’d find out soon enough. “Nothing for you to worry about. So, what brings you by so late? I was getting ready to wrap things up here and head home.” “I called your apartment and you weren’t there,” she explained. “I had a hunch where you’d be.” “So, you came all the way down here just to see me?” He struggled to resist his urge to grin broadly. Suddenly, his day seemed so much brighter. “Well, I did try to call first.” Vanessa laughed nervously and lowered her head slightly, a little embarrassed. They both stood in silence for several moments – which really seemed like a small eternity – before she mustered up the nerve to again speak. “You mentioned going out to dinner the other day and…” “I’m sorry,” Alex spoke up, now his turn to be embarrassed. “I’ve been so busy with this project, I haven’t had the time. You probably think…” “I think you’ve been busy,” she smiled. “Which is why I thought that, since you’re wrapping things up for the night, you might have a little free time to grab a bite down at the diner on the corner. You know, nothing fancy, just… a bite.” “I think that’s a great idea.” Despite his best efforts, Alex felt himself grin broadly. “In fact, I can’t think of a better way to finish off the evening.” As he began to hurry around the lab, finishing up the last bit of work he had to do before he’d be free for the rest of the evening, Vanessa stood, silently watching him, and smiled, thankful that she’d mustered up the nerve to remind him about his earlier invitation. <object width="352" height="240"><param name="movie" value=" name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="352" height="240"></embed></object>

Episode #16 Monday, 5/14/07 Same Day, Late Afternoon Rosehill Police Department, Interrogation Room “Do you recognize this gun, Dr. Crawford?” Lt. Alphonso asked as he opened a manila envelope and pulled out the plastic baggie that contained the gun. Tom felt a large knot form in his throat. He most definitely did recognize it. “I… I’m not sure,” Tom Crawford muttered. “We’ve had the lab going over this gun with a fine tooth comb, Dr. Crawford.” Lt. Alphonso pushed it closer to Tom. “We’ve determined that this is, in fact, the gun that was used to kill Mrs. Marriott.” “It… is?” Tom was beginning to feel more anxious and uncomfortable by the second. “Even more interestingly is the fact that we now know exactly who this gun is registered to.” “You… do?” “Yes, Dr. Crawford.” The lieutenant paused, ever so briefly. “It’s registered to you. This is your gun, Dr. Crawford.” <object width="352" height="240"><param name="movie" value=" name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="352" height="240"></embed></object> Carlson Paper & Publishing, A.J.’s office “Knock, knock,” Suzanne Prentiss smiled as she rapped lightly on the door. “Got time for a social visit?” “Suzanne!” A.J. Sterling exclaimed, quickly rising from his seat behind his desk. “Doris didn’t tell me you were here.” “Oh, I bribed your secretary with some cookies out of the machine.” She let out a laugh and stepped into the office. “You know, it’s amazing how easily your employees can be bribed.” “I think it’s because she knows how often we used to have lunch together when you were downstairs working for the paper.” He folded his arms across his chest and eyed her suspiciously. “You’re not here to tell me you’re ready to come back, are you? The Herald could really use your skills, right now.” “No, A.J., this is just a social visit.” However, her sigh of disappointment betrayed her true feelings. “Unuh, not buying it.” A.J. walked over to her, grabbed her lightly by the shoulders, and directed her to a chair. “Now sit down and tell me what’s really on your mind.” Suzanne looked up at him, feeling rather foolish, and let out a weary sigh, not really sure where to begin. “I miss this place, A.J.. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. I miss the boys down in the copy room. I miss coming up here to see you every day to go over the latest edition of the paper. I miss us debating over what we think Ruth’s smoking when she puts together that silly advice column of hers.” “We axed that column, by the way. It was getting too surreal.” “Finally!” She let out a warm laugh and then paused for a moment. “See! This is what I’ve been missing. All the activity of the newsroom – adult conversation.” “Baby talk with Tess not doing it for you, huh?” “Hardly,” she sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my baby very much. Being a mother is the… the most wonderful experience I could’ve ever imagined. And I love John more than I ever thought I could love someone, but…” Suzanne’s shoulders slumped, burdened by the weight of conflicting thoughts and emotions. “I don’t know. Maybe I had fairytale expectations. John and I went through so much just to be together. Maybe I had it in my head that getting married was going to finally bring all of that trouble to an end.” “And it hasn’t?” A.J. looked at her intently, sincerely interested in Suzanne and her obvious dilemma. “John’s gotten mixed up with Andy and that damned Beaver Ridge. It’s taking up so much of his time that Tess and I hardly ever get to see him. I know he’s doing it for us and I know he loves me, it’s just that… Oh, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.” A.J. leaned back on the edge of his desk and strummed his fingers on the top. A sudden, unexpected thought had just struck him. “Suzanne, did you know that Harold’s retiring?” “W-what?” No, she didn’t know and she was shocked with this piece of news. “He’s been the editor of the Herald for… forever. I thought he’d die before he’d ever retire.” “Me, too, but, apparently, he’s decided to chuck it all and move to Florida to spend his twilight years fishing off the coast.” A.J. tapped his chin with his index finger, deep in thought. “You’d be the perfect person to replace him in the editor’s chair.” “Me?” Her eyes grew wide. It was a possibility she’d never even honestly considered. “But… but I’m not qualified…” “Not qualified?” He let out a laugh. “Suzanne, what about those years you spent in Europe as a correspondent for the Associated Press? You were the best investigative reporter this newspaper ever had. Hell, you’ve got a journalism degree from Stanford, for pete’s sake. You’re more than qualified and I think you’re the perfect person for the job.” “I… I don’t know.” Her face fell blank. She didn’t really know what to say or think, it was all so out of left field. Yes, it would be an excellent career opportunity, but she hadn’t even fully decided on whether she even wanted to go back to work part-time or not. It was too much for her to even think about. Rosehill Police Department, Interrogation Room “Well, Dr. Crawford, I’m waiting.” Lt. Alphonso leaned back in his chair and rested his hands on the table. “You know this is your gun, don’t you? You knew it was your gun before I even told you, didn’t you?” Tom sat in silence, his eyes locked on the gun inside the plastic baggie. “Well? Don’t you have anything to say?” “Yes, Lieutenant, I knew it was my gun,” Tom finally confessed, “but I did not murder Meg!” “Then can you possibly explain how your gun ended up being the same gun that shot Mrs. Marriott to death?” The lieutenant cocked his head slightly, very interested in the answer Tom would give. “I keep that gun in a locked box with some personal papers inside my safe,” Tom began to explain after a very long moment of hesitation. “A few days ago I discovered the box was missing along with those papers and that gun.” “Convenient.” “It’s the truth, Lieutenant! I swear it!” Tom was beginning to grow panicked. He didn’t like the direction this interview was starting to take. “I would never have shot Meg! What motive would I have to shoot her?” “There is that matter of funding for your research project,” the lieutenant reminded. “She did cancel all funding right before she died. You could’ve argued over that funding and…” “I would never have hurt Meg!” Lt. Alphonso quickly flipped to a separate page of notes. “You did push her down the stairs once, did you not, Dr. Crawford?” “That was a very, very long time ago and I did not push her. It was an accident – we were arguing and she fell.” “But you did hurt her in that instance, didn’t you, Dr. Crawford.” Tom hung his head. The lieutenant had a point. “Yes. I suppose you could say that.” “Dr. Crawford, I believe you went to Mrs. Marriott’s home with the gun as a means of ‘persuading’ her into reconsidering her funding. You two got into a verbal altercation and it got out of hand. Perhaps you didn’t even intend on shooting Mrs. Marriott let alone killing her, but that’s what happened. Maybe she struggled with you over the gun and it went off. You panicked and fled, dropping the gun.” “None of that ever happened!” Tom bolted up out of his chair in anger and frustration. “I told you my gun was stolen out of my safe!” “Along with some personal papers, yes I remember.” Lt. Alphonso flipped back to his current set of notes and quickly jotted something down. “What were those personal papers, Dr. Crawford? Is there any reason someone would want to take them?” “They… they’re just some personal documents, that’s all.” Tom looked away from him. He couldn’t tell him the whole truth. “They wouldn’t be of interested to anyone but me.” “When was the last time you saw the locked box, Dr. Crawford?” “About… a month ago, I suppose. That was the last time I’d gotten into my safe.” Tom thought back to the night Meg had thrown a grand dinner party. “Meg had given me a pair of diamond and platinum cufflinks once and I kept them in the safe to only wear on special occasions. I wore them that night.” “Were those cufflinks stolen along with the box?” “No.” “I see, so some mysterious person only took a box containing unimportant personal papers and a gun, but left all other valuables behind?” Lt. Alphonso cocked an eyebrow – a highly implausible scenario. “Dr. Crawford, can you explain why your fingerprints were the only ones found on the gun?” “I… can’t.” He leaned forward, his eyes pleading. “Lieutenant, you have to believe me. I did not murder Meg. I didn’t do it!” “I’m afraid this evidence is something I can’t explain any other way.” The lieutenant rose from his chair. “Dr. Crawford, I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Meg Marriott.” Beaver Ridge Complex, Lobby “Where is everybody?” Alison Marriot asked as she walked through the front doors of the lobby, immediately noticing the utter absence of activity. “The crew better not be taking another one of their long lunch breaks. We’re behind schedule as it is and…” “There is no crew, Alison. Not any more.” Her father, Andy Marriott, sat slumped in his chair, his heads buried in his hands. “Paulson’s out and his money’s right along with him. We’re over budget because we bent over backwards to pacify that jerk and now we’re completely tapped out.” “W-what?” To say that she was stunned wouldn’t do her reaction justice. “That’s… that’s impossible!” “Combined, John and I maybe have enough money left in the bank to make it another couple of weeks,” Andy began to explain as he rose from his seat. “I was trying to talk Rick Latimer into climbing on board to replace Paulson, but he didn’t seem too committal about it. Apparently, his wife keeps him on a short leash and he won’t make a move without running it past her first.” “But you just said we had enough money to keep going for two more weeks.” Alison couldn’t understand why, if there was still money, they weren’t still moving forward with the project. “Why aren’t there workers here?” “What’s the point, honey?” Andy walked over to his makeshift desk and pulled a bottle of bourbon out of his briefcase, emptying the last remnants of its contents into his mug. “It’s over. Why prolong the agony? I cut our losses. If we kept going, we wouldn’t have anything left.” “Oh, god.” She shook her head in utter disbelief. “I can’t believe Paulson pulled out just like that. I talked to him last week. I showed him those numbers we put together! I thought I had everything smoothed over!” “Well, apparently, he got a package delivered to his office in Albany. It was from Meg. Obviously, she mailed it right before she died.” Andy walked back over to his chair, mug of bourbon in hand, and sat back down. “It was a copy of Beaver Ridge’s financial records and plans – the real ones. Not the ones we doctored up for his benefit. He saw every design shortcut we could come up with to get this place up and running cheaply and still just make code.” The color began to drain from Alison’s face. “I see you’re having the exact same reaction I had when I heard the news.” Andy’s laugh was tinged with bitter sarcasm. “I just wish I knew how Meg got her hands on those files. We didn’t make those changes until after I managed to force her out of the project and brought John on. There’s no way she could’ve even known about any of that let alone had exact copies of every single thing we were keeping from Paulson.” Alison slowly slumped down onto a crate beside the desk. No, there wasn’t any way Meg could’ve gotten her hands on those records. Except one. <object width="352" height="240"><param name="movie" value=" name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="352" height="240"></embed></object>