Previously…
– Travis and Rosie’s lawyer grilled Molly on the stand about her histories with Philip Ragan, Craig Simmons, and Eric Westin, even insinuating that Molly had been the one to hire Eric to kidnap Gabrielle and Rosie.
– Brent made one last desperate bid to convince Natalie to give a statement that would connect Loretta to the kidnapping, but Natalie resisted.
– Elly called a surprise witness: Jesse Alfaro, the former busboy from Bill’s on the Pier who was also an associate of Rosie’s drug dealer ex.

All air seems to be sucked out of the small courtroom as Elly Vanderbilt steps out from behind the plaintiffs’ table, where her clients, Molly and Brent Taylor, sit with Elly’s co-counsel, Conrad Halston.

“Thank you, Your Honor. I’d like to call to the stand Jesse Alfaro,” the redheaded attorney states.

At the opposing party’s table, Rosie Jimenez lets out a gasp, and her husband leans over toward her.

“Jesse?” Travis asks. “Is that–“

Rosie’s eyes flare wide as she nods. “Yeah.”

The couple’s attorney, Jaimie Thompson, hovers over her chair. “Who’s Jesse Alfaro?”

“He worked with my ex,” Rosie says quietly. “The…”

“The drug dealer,” Jaimie finishes the thought. “Oh god.”

“Shit,” Travis mutters, and all those gathered in the courtroom watch as Jesse, outfitted in an orange prison-issue jumpsuit, is led in by the bailiff and sworn in. The dark-haired, thin man in his early 30s averts his gaze when Rosie looks toward him.

The sound of Elly’s stilettos against the linoleum floor as everyone waits tensely for the questioning to proceed.

“Mr. Alfaro, thank you for being here with us today,” Elly says. “I see that you’re wearing prison-issue clothing. Are you currently incarcerated?”

“Yeah,” Jesse says, his voice a little hoarse. “At the state penetentiary in Walla Walla.”

“What charges led to your incarceration?”

“Possession of a controlled substance. Possession with intent to sell. Sale of a controlled substance to a minor…”

“I see. Thank you for your honesty.” Elly returns briefly to the table, where Conrad hands her a manila folder. She brings it to the bench, where Judge Barnett is posted. “Your Honor, I’d like to submit Exhibit 9 into evidence — Mr. Alfaro’s criminal record.”

“Objection,” Jaimie says, quickly standing. “Relevance.”

Elly takes a breath in through her nostrils but does not look toward the other lawyer.

“Your Honor, we’re establishing the witness’s background and his connection to the parties involved in this case.”

“Overruled,” Judge Barnett says with a brisk tap of his gavel. “You may continue.”

“Thank you,” Elly says before continuing. “Mr. Alfaro, in this courtroom, who did you know prior to today?”

“Both of them,” Jesse says, pointing to the defense table. “Travis, I used to work with him at a restaurant on Pier 22. And Rosie…”

“How do you know Rosie Jimenez?” Elly prompts.

“She, uh, she used to date a dude I worked with. Not Travis,” Jesse replies. “Another guy. Diego.”

“And who was Diego to you? A coworker from where?”

With a massive knot in her stomach, Rosie forces herself to turn around. She sees her mother sitting in the row right behind herself and Travis; the diminutive Juanita holds her purse in her lap, her arms around the bag as if clutching onto safety itself.

“I’m sorry,” Rosie mouths, but her mother remains stone-faced.

“He was a drug dealer.” Jesse uneasily reaches up and touches the barely perceptible mustache coming in over his upper lip, stroking his index finger over it for a few seconds. “I worked for him, I guess.”

“And you knew Rosie because she dated Diego? What was his full name?”

“Diego Barrera. Yeah. They dated for a couple years.”

“We’ve established in the course of this trial that Rosie Jimenez is a police officer,” Elly says. “She dated a known drug dealer?”

“This was before she was a cop.”

“Okay. So Rosie dated this drug dealer, Diego… Do you recall how their relationship ended?”

“I remember real well,” Jesse explains. “Diego was pissed–” He stops himself and glances at the judge, who simply shrugs. “Diego was real mad. ‘Cause she was blaming him for something he didn’t think was his fault.”

Elly furrows her brow dramatically. “What happened? Why would Rosie blame Diego?”

“‘Cause she was holding product for him,” Jesse says. “And there were these guys Diego owed money to — so they broke into Rosie’s family’s place and…”

Travis reaches over and grasps Rosie’s hand. Rosie clamps her eyes shut.

“And what?” Elly asks.

“Rosie’s old man got shot and killed during the break-in,” Jesse says. “All because she was holding drugs for Diego.”

—–

Still rattled by her confrontation with Brent this morning while dropping Peter off at school, Natalie Bishop lets herself into her home and listens for sounds of activity. She knows that her husband must be at work, and with any luck, his demented mother is off on one of her mysterious errands–

“There you are,” Loretta Ragan declares from the top of the stairs, and Natalie looks up with a groan to see her mother-in-law perched at the metal-and-cable railing. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“I was taking Peter to school,” Natalie says. “You know, the same place I take him every day.”

“I can only imagine how stimulating the education in this provincial little town must be for his developing mind. Don’t you want more for your son, Natalie?”

“More than a private school education that costs more per year than my car lease? What’s the problem with that?”

Loretta emits a huff and begins descending the stairs. “That school isn’t exactly Exeter. Which brings me to the reason I wanted to speak with you, actually.”

“What is it?” Natalie asks, unable to conceal her irritation.

“An old friend of mine has an art show opening in Paris next week, and I really think it would be beneficial for Peter to attend with me. He could make some powerful connections.”

“He’s a child.”

“Not for long! This is the age where you establish your child’s network for the remainder of his life,” Loretta says. “It’s what I made sure to do for both Spencer and Philip.”

Natalie bites her tongue, but the thought still snakes through her mind: The latter of whom turned out to be a damn serial killer!

Instead she says, “Peter has school next week.”

“Write him a note. Or we can make a generous donation. Experiences like this are more valuable than whatever rudimentary mathematics classes they must have him in.”

Natalie flinches reflexively as Loretta reaches the bottom of the staircase. After all this time of living under the same roof as the woman, Natalie still finds her presence deeply unsettling.

“It doesn’t work like that,” she says.

Loretta flashes a condescending smile. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“I’m not sending my son to Paris with you.”

“I’m his beloved grandmother! And frankly… you aren’t in much of a position to say no to me, Natalie.”

“Loretta–“

“All I have to do is alert the incompetent police force here know about your little charade with that poor nurse,” Loretta coos, “and it’s over for you. Peter will be free to travel wherever I’d like to take him.”

Although she is seething, Natalie again fights back her words.

“I’ll see about the travel arrangements,” Loretta says, and then she sweeps out of the foyer toward the kitchen.

Natalie’s teeth chatter as she continues to fume. Her encounter with Brent plays back in her mind:

“Natalie, this custody case is getting ugly,” Brent says. “Travis and Rosie’s lawyer essentially accused Molly of having planned the kidnapping. If we can get a credible witness to place Loretta at the scene — then we can blow that asinine theory out of the water and look like the victims that we are in this situation. It would be a game-changer.”

He stares Natalie down as if trying to will her into accepting his offer.

“I’m willing to promise you whatever it takes,” he urges. “Round-the-clock protection. Anonymity. Immunity. Anything. Please.”

“Damn you, Loretta,” she says, under her breath but forcefully.

—–

“Thank you for sharing all that,” Elly says once Jesse finishes recounting the tale of Manuel Jimenez’s death. “No further questions.”

Behind the defense table, Travis looks to Jaimie. “What do we do now? That was…”

“It was a disaster for us,” Rosie finishes the thought for him.

“I’ve got this,” Jaimie says, and in the same breath, she rises to her feet. “Your Honor, I’d like to call for a brief recess so that my clients and I can confer about how to proceed. Since we didn’t know Mr. Alfaro would be called to the stand, we haven’t had a chance to discuss cross-examination.”

“Very well,” Judge Barnett declares with another rap of the gavel. “We’ll reconvene in 15 minutes.” He stands, says something quickly to the bailiff, and then vanishes back into his chambers.

At the opposite table, Elly hovers in front of Brent, Molly, and Conrad, her palms pressed down onto the table.

“That went about as well as I’d hoped it would,” Molly says. “Good work.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were calling him?” Brent asks.

Molly reacts with surprise before saying, “Because I knew you’d feel conflicted about it. I did, too — but after what they did while I was on the stand, we didn’t have a choice.”

“You did a fantastic job, Elly,” Conrad adds.

Brent is mulling his own response when he feels his iPhone vibrating insistently in the pocket of his slacks. He quickly pulls it out and sees the name on the display.

“I need to take this,” he says. “I’ll be back.”

“Who is it?” Molly asks, but Brent simply holds up his index finger,  indicating that he’ll tell her later, and hurries out of the courtroom.

On the other side of the room, Rosie looks at Jaimie with despair. “What are we gonna do now? We need to spin this.”

Juanita shuffles up to the railing that divides the front of the courtroom from the observers’ area.

“I’m so sorry,” Rosie says, sounding faint in a way that Travis has rarely heard from her.

“I’ll come up with something,” Jaimie assures them, but she does not sound fully confident of that.

—–

Out in the hallway, Brent hurriedly answers the call.

“One second,” he says into the phone, waiting for the courtroom door to close behind himself. He moves several yards away from the door, thankful that the corridor is empty at the moment.

“What’s going on, Natalie?” he asks.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said this morning,” she says. “And I have some conditions that I need you to agree to.”

“Conditions? Does that mean–“

“I’m ready to talk,” Natalie confirms. “I’m ready to tell you what I know about Loretta.”

—–

Paula remains seated in a pew two rows behind Molly and Brent’s table in the courtroom. She observes the anxious conferencing between Molly and her lawyers and, across the room, Travis and Rosie with their own attorney.

“Dear god,” she whispers. “Please bring this family some peace.”

Still, she feels that nagging tightness in her chest, like a knot that she cannot untie, a coil that she cannot unwind. Then she hears the door at the back of the room open with the slightest creak. Paula turns to see Brent hurrying into the room. He beelines for Molly.

“We got her,” Brent says, almost breathless.

“What?” Molly asks. “Who?”

“Natalie.” Brent stops, holding out his arms. “She’s going to the station to give a statement right now.”

Molly covers her mouth with her hand in shock. “That means…”

“This takes their whole theory off the table,” Conrad says. “About you and Eric Westin.”

Molly lets out a squeal of joy and throws her arms around her husband.

“Are you serious?” Rosie exclaims. She storms toward the center of the room, radiating anger. “You’re celebrating?”

“Rosie,” Brent says, “this isn’t–“

“You just put me on blast for being responsible for my own father’s death,” Rosie fumes, “in front of my poor mother, no less, and you’re over there clapping and celebrating? Go to hell.”

“Rosie, try and stay calm,” Travis says, moving for his wife. He tries to take her by the arm, but she yanks away from him.

“Don’t tell me to stay calm!” she spits at him.

“This isn’t about you, Rosie,” Molly says. “This is about our daughter.”

“She’s our daughter, too,” Travis fires back, losing his cool as well. “Stop disregarding that.”

“We haven’t had a minute to forget that!” Brent tells them.

“Do you have any idea how it feels to never have put your own child to bed at night?” Molly says. “Our own child!”

“And we’re just some people who are in your way, huh?” Travis asks. “Aunt Sarah was right about you. So was Mom. Whatever you think you’re entitled to, you take–“

“Please!” Paula says, springing to her feet. “Stop this!”

Molly turns to her mother. “Do you hear how they’re talking to us?”

“How we’re talking to you?” Travis responds. “Are you kidding? After what you just did to my wife–“

“Enough!” Paula shouts. “I will not stand here and watch my family–” But she stops mid-statement, as her eyes turn glassy.

“Mom?” Molly asks.

“I–” Paula croaks out the word, and then her hand moves to her chest. The tightness is suddenly unbearable, and a strange numbness moves through the left side of her body.

“Grandma!” Travis shouts, and it is the last thing Paula hears before her feet give out from beneath her and she crumbles to the floor, blackness engulfing her.

END OF EPISODE 1199

What has happened to Paula?
Will Natalie’s statement make a difference?
Can the Fishers recover from this schism?
Discuss it all in the comments below!

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