Previously…
– Diane overheard her visiting friend, Brian, talking on the phone about how he had to keep a secret from her.
– A DNA test confirmed that Gabrielle is the baby whom Molly and Brent were told died at birth. They were panicked when Rosie and the little girl went missing. 
– Rosie and Gabrielle were being kept in a nondescript room by a masked man who demanded Rosie give him the PIN for her debit card and then stepped outside to meet with Loretta. 

In the hallway lined on both sides by grey cinder blocks, with exposed ductwork hanging overhead, the man pulls a black ski mask off his head, revealing a head of still-black hair and a salt-and-pepper beard.

“Now get to work,” Loretta Ragan says. “We don’t have time to waste, Mr. Westin.”

Relishing the feel of cool air on his skin, Eric Westin replies, “I know. But I need to keep my hands clean. I’ve already been disbarred and disgraced. I can’t afford to go back to prison.”

“It doesn’t sound like you can afford much of anything — which is why you’ll do as I tell you and accept my rather generous payments for it.”

With a grimace, he says, “I suppose you’re right. And the sooner we can throw the police and the Fishers off our scent, the better.”

Loretta’s eyes tighten into thin slits. “Yes. We need everyone to believe that Rosie took her beloved child and disappeared for good. If they think she used her ATM card to take out cash, they’ll all be hot on that useless trail. I want that whole family to be absolutely bereft, the same way I’ve been since they ripped my James and my Philip away from me.”

Eric nods in agreement. “I’ve been screwed over by them a time or two myself. First by Molly not even giving me the time of day because she was so focused on her own sister‘s husband–“

“Which is precisely why she cast my son aside like trash, too,” a seething Loretta interrupts.

“–and then by Jason and that meddling mother-in-law of his,” Eric says. “I was trying to help her, and it all fell down on me in the end.”

The two stand in heavy silence, fuming together, for several seconds.

“Then let’s make sure that dreadful family finally pays for everything they have gotten away with,” Loretta says, as a grin spreads over her red lips.

—–

Sarah Fisher Gray finishes filling her glass with sauvignon blanc and then sets the bottle back on a ceramic coaster on Diane Bishop‘s coffee table. 

“I can’t tell you how nice it is to be able to have a night with friends like this,” Diane says as she sets down her own glass of wine. “It feels like all I’ve done for months is worry about Samantha and work.”

“That is all you’ve done for months,” Sarah says. “You deserve a break.”

“And Samantha is in good hands at Tim‘s house,” Brian Hamilton adds. He sits in armless accent chair across from the two women, who are perched on Diane’s pink velvet sofa. 

Diane hesitates for a split-second before responding, “I know. He has the ground-floor guest room and a backyard and… he’s Tim. I’m fighting the urge to drive there and hover over her all day.”

“I’m sure she appreciates that,” Sarah says with a laugh. 

Brian takes a sip of his own wine. “Still nothing on Travis‘s wife and the baby?”

Sarah shakes her head ruefully. “I’m trying to stay out of the cops’ way, but I’m not having much luck. There is not a single clue as to where they went.”

“That’s weird,” Diane says.

Brian nods vigorously. “Very weird.”

Before anyone can say anything more, an insistent buzzing sounds. Brian’s eyes go right to his lap, where his cell phone has been resting. He picks up the phone.

“I need to take this,” he announces, and he is ducking into the spare bedroom and closing the door within seconds.

Sarah turns toward Diane and pulls one leg onto the sofa. “I bet it’s nice having Brian in town for a little while, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.” But Diane’s response sounds tentative, and it causes Sarah to lean in closer.

“What was that?” Sarah asks.

“Nothing.” Diane taps her fingernails against the stem of her wine glass while she thinks. “Okay, there’s one weird thing.”

“How weird? Oh my god, did you guys — you know–“

“No!” Diane exclaims, but she is quick to adjust her volume again. Then, in a whisper, she tells her friend, “I’m pretty sure Brian’s hiding something from me. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

In his office inside the headquarters of the King’s Bay Police Department, a weary Brent Taylor sits behind his desk, his head hung over the reports scattered messily over the surface. The scribbled lines of handwriting and the typed pages are all running together into a messy soup of characters that have ceased to have any meaning — yet the utter amount of information seems too compelling to ignore.

Just as he is reaching for his blue Seattle Seahawks mug, with a chip on its rim and some lukewarm coffee held within it, there is a knock at the open office door. He lifts his head to see his ex-wife standing there. Her eyes are puffy and her minimal makeup a little smeared; although she is not crying, he can tell that she recently has been.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, instinctively rising to his feet.

“I don’t know. I was at my mom‘s, and… I came here thinking you might have some news.”

Feeling guilty at having nothing of use to tell her, Brent remains tight-lipped. He steps out from behind the desk. 

“This is horrible,” Molly says. “Our daughter is out there somewhere. And if Rosie has her–“

“Jimenez wouldn’t hurt Gabrielle. That much, I know.”

“You’re right. She wouldn’t.” Molly nervously tugs the sleeves of her cable-knit sweater down over her knuckles. “And you’ve been having Loretta followed? Nothing there, either?”

“Not that I can see. She’s been all over town, but…” He gestures at the pile of papers on his desk. “The reports don’t show her visiting any one location consistently, or even repeatedly.”

Molly sighs loudly and then takes a step forward. Brent extends his arms, pulling her closer. Without hesitation, she places her head upon his shoulder, and he lays his palms against her back. For a few seconds, he quietly listens to her breathing as he feels his own heart pounding inside his chest. 

“We need to find her,” Molly says, her voice raw with desperation. “We need to find our little girl.”

“I know,” Brent says. “And we will. Something’s going to break here, Mol. And when it does — one way or another — we’re going to bring Gabrielle home, where she belongs.”

—–

Loretta closes the front door of her son and daughter-in-law‘s home and slides the deadbolt into place. She sets her purse on the narrow credenza to her left and appraises the space, as she often does upon returning to the house. Not a single piece of respectable art or antique furniture on display, she thinks disapprovingly, though she has tried her best to keep her critiques of Natalie’s decorating to herself, knowing that Spencer doesn’t seem to mind it — and that, one day soon enough, Natalie will be out of the picture, anyway. 

Besides, she tells herself as she makes her way to the kitchen, staying here has given me access to Peter — and useful information about the Fishers. As much as she loathes that Spencer has become close to his biological family, there have been several instances in which that access has proven very helpful to Loretta in her quest.

“Welcome home,” Natalie says, a bit of bite to her voice as she picks up a coloring book and several crayons from the granite-topped kitchen island.

Loretta regards her with a frown. “Finally exploring our artistry, are we?”

“Funny. Peter was coloring before I sent him upstairs for his bath.” She sizes Loretta up. “And where have you been?”

“That’s really none of your business.”

“It is when…” Natalie glances in every direction to be sure that they are alone, then lowers her voice. “…when you’re holding an innocent woman and baby captive somewhere!”

“I haven’t the faintest what you’re talking about,” Loretta says with a breezy, taunting smile.

“They’d better be safe, Loretta. This needs to end yesterday.” With a grunt, Natalie shoves the last three crayons into their box. Clutching it in one hand, she picks up the coloring book and stomps out of the room.

Loretta glowers after Natalie once she has left the room. As much as she hates to admit it, she is feeling run down from the heightened emotions and movements of recent weeks. Once her plan to switch Gabrielle’s DNA test went awry, she had to think fast, and although she was able to have Rosie and Gabrielle kidnapped — with unwitting help from Natalie and perfectly willing participation from Eric — she has only been able to think two steps ahead, rather than her characteristic ten. The routine of finding a new destination with a parking garage, driving there, then discreetly sliding into a completely different vehicle that she’s arranged to have there so she can go to the place where she is holding Rosie and the child — only to do it all in reverse shortly thereafter — is wearing on her. And she fears that Natalie’s nerves about having played a role in the abduction could be a liability. 

“You’d best watch your step,” she says under her breath, though her daughter-in-law is long gone from the room.

—–

“Okay, that does sound a little sketchy,” Sarah admits once Diane finishes telling her about the phone call she secretly overheard Brian having the other day. 

“He’s up to something,” Diane says, careful to keep her voice quiet. “If anyone has a sixth sense for scheming and secrets, it’s me.”

“You don’t lie.”

“I mean, I do…”

“But you know bullshit when you see it,” Sarah agrees, smirking. “Maybe it has nothing to do with you.”

“Brian specifically said that she was in the shower and he didn’t want her to find out. That ‘her’ is me! There was no one else here.”

“Okay, okay.” Sarah drinks from her wine glass as she considers this. “I hate to say this since you’ve been under a lot of stress…”

“What?” Diane asks with alarm.

“You might be losing your touch,” Sarah says. “If you aren’t going to ask him outright–“

“He’ll just lie, anyway.”

“Then take it from a P.I.: you need to get a look at his phone to find out who he was talking to.”

“You’re right,” Diane says as she casts a nervous glance at the hallway. The door to the guest bedroom, where Brian is taking a call, is still closed. 

A new resolve appears on her face. “The next chance I get, I’m going to swipe his phone and put this whole thing to rest.”

—–

Natalie’s heart thumps as she returns the coloring book and crayons to Peter’s room. She has been putting up with Loretta lurking under her roof for far too long, and now that miserable old wench has made Natalie part of one of her evil plots. 

“This has to stop,” she mutters to herself, but as soon as the thought leaves her mouth, her head floods with reasons that it can’t: Because she’ll turn right around and reveal that I was the one who hired Sonja Kahele. Because she’ll make sure I lose my son forever.

She listens to the sound of the bathtub running in the adjoining bathroom, where Spencer is giving Peter his bath. And then an idea crystallizes in her mind.

“I have to do it myself,” she says. “I have to find out where that old bag is keeping them and free them without Loretta ever knowing I did it.”

The wheels in her head turn faster and faster as she feels a glimmer of hope for the first time in days.

END OF EPISODE 1149

Will Natalie be able to find Rosie and Gabrielle?
Can Eric execute Loretta’s orders without getting caught?
Should Diane take Sarah’s advice about Brian?
Talk about all this and more in the comments below!

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