Previously…
– Isaac was shocked to recognize Tempest’s new friend, Sienna, as the ex who had cheated on him with his best friend.
– Sienna told Tempest that her daughter, Noelle, is Isaac’s child.
– The medical examiner reported to Brent that Loretta had died as a result of poisoning.

The air has a sharp, cold bite to it as Tempest Banks exits her car in the parking lot outside Edge of Winter Arena. The facility’s main entrance is directly ahead of her, and she starts for it, ready to return to her desk after an off-site meeting with a vendor. But the entrance to the small business attached to the arena catches her attention, holding her in a sort of trance until she finds herself approaching Thaw Coffee & Tea.

The jingle of a bell greets her as she pushes open the café’s door, and warmth envelops her like a hug. The scent of roasted beans mixes with something sweeter — cinnamon or nutmeg — that bathes the place in the charm of the holidays. Strings of twinkling lights cast a gentle glow over the sparsely populated tables, and garlands of pine are festooned throughout, adding to the seasonal cheer.

Once inside the entrance, Tempest hesitates. She has been avoiding this place since the night of the Objection gala. Not that she hasn’t wanted to come in many times and give Sienna Ridley a piece of her mind. But she has felt so overwhelmed with prospective things to say, and the shop is usually busy in the mornings, when Tempest arrives for work, so instead of confronting Sienna, she has stayed up in the office on the second floor of the arena, stewing.

Now, however, she sees Sienna behind the register, her chestnut hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. She wears the ice-blue apron that all Thaw employees wear, and she is currently chuckling at something that a customer has said. Tempest watches Sienna smoothly hand the customer her receipt and jot the order down on a cup, which she sends down the bar so that the drink can be made. When the customer moves along, Tempest’s feet propel her toward the register.

“Tempest. Hi,” Sienna says, her demeanor suddenly reserved. Tempest gets the immediate impression that Sienna is waiting for her to set the tone of this encounter.

“Hi,” Tempest replies, more than a little gruffly.

“What, um, what can I get for you?”

“I don’t need anything. Coffee, anyway.”

They stand there, eyes held in a deadlock.

“Let me take my break a few minutes early so we can talk,” Sienna tells her, already breaking away from her post.

Moments later, Tempest is sitting at a table by the window, overlooking the dreary parking lot, when Sienna approaches her.

“There. We have fifteen minutes or so,” Sienna says softly. She hesitates in pulling out the chair opposite Tempest.

“Go on. Sit.”

Sienna does just that, as Tempest squares her body toward the woman she befriended over the last several months, only to learn that Sienna shares a past with Tempest’s brother and claims that her young daughter was fathered by Isaac.

Tempest finally cracks the stiff silence between them. “I’ve been thinking about what to say to you.”

“I’m sorry I ran out of the party so fast,” Sienna says. “I really did appreciate you including me.”

A terse nod is the only reply Tempest can muster.

“What even happened after I left?” Sienna asks. “I saw on the news that some lady died…?”

“They still don’t really know what happened.” Tempest adjusts herself in the chair, though she can’t quite get comfortable, and she knows it has more to do with the awkwardness of this conversation than it does with the perfectly adequate piece of furniture. “I guess that’s one thing I’ve got in common with the cops.”

Sienna leans forward. “Tempest–“

“I just want the truth, Sienna,” Tempest says. “I wanna know why you really came to King’s Bay.”

The hospital cafeteria hums with muted conversations and the clatter of trays and cutlery; its fluorescent lighting casts a pale sheen over the rows of tables and plastic chairs. Diane Bishop pauses at the entrance, loosening her scarf, and the scents of industrial coffee and reheated food — lasagna? — hit her. A tinny sound system plays Bobby Helms’s “Jingle Bell Rock,” though the choice of music fails to inject much holiday cheer into the sterile setting.

Diane scans the cafeteria and spots Isaac Banks immediately, seated at the end of a table beside the wall, his tall, lean frame hunched over his phone. Her heels click against the linoleum as she approaches, but he doesn’t look up. Instead, his thumb swipes over the screen, his face mostly unreadable, though Diane does recognize the slight pull of his lips — a wistfulness she has seen before. She has a sense of what he’s looking at without even having to ask.

“Sorry I’m late,” she announces as she arrives at the table. “Damn meetings at the station are never-ending.”

A little startled, Isaac looks up quickly. “You’re good. And it’s good to see you.”

He stands and greets her with a kiss on the lips before she settles into the chair opposite him.

“Let me guess,” she declares. “Pictures from med school?”

“What?” But his brown eyes give him away, and a sheepish grin appears on his face. “You got me. I dunno…” He places the phone face-down on the table.

“You’re trying to make sense of this situation with Sienna. I do get it.”

“Seeing her again threw me for a total loop. And for her to drop that bomb…”

“It’s a lot,” Diane says. “And you were together for a significant amount of time. Three years isn’t nothing.”

“No, it’s not. But she flushed those three years down the drain pretty fast, I can tell you that. After I found out about her and Clay, it was done. There was no coming back from that.”

The crease between his brows tells Diane that it isn’t quite as cut-and-dry as Isaac wants to make it sound; discovering that his long-term girlfriend had cheated on him with his classmate and best friend still troubles him.

“I don’t blame you,” Diane says. “I would’ve gone nuclear on both of them, too.”

“I didn’t even do anything crazy. Just packed up my shit, gave my notice at work, and left. I didn’t wanna see either of them ever again.”

“And yet here she is, in King’s Bay.” Diane places her elbows on the table and folds her hands together. “So the question is: do you believe a word this woman is saying?”

—–

“Thanks for seeing me,” Brent Taylor says as he steps across the threshold of the modern-farmhouse-style home. The house seems almost too perfect, with its gleaming hardwood floors, vaulted ceilings, and large windows that frame the moody Northwest day outside. It feels curated and a little too perfect, certainly giving no indication that a second-grader lives here.

Spencer Ragan stands a few feet away, the sleeves of his button-up shirt rolled to the middle of his forearms. There are faint shadows beneath his eyes, and his jaw is tight, betraying the stress of recent days.

“Didn’t think I had much choice,” Spencer says, his voice calm but clipped.

Brent follows him into the living room and scans his surroundings with the casual sharpness of someone who has spent his career dissecting scenes. The furniture is neutral but high-end, no doubt expensive, and a fire roars in the fireplace, throwing flickers of pronounced warmth throughout the space.

“I’ll keep this as brief as I can,” Brent says.

“Do you have a cause of death yet?”

Brent hesitates, calculating just how much to reveal now. “Toxicology reports confirm that your mother was poisoned.”

“Poisoned,” Spencer echoes, almost reflexively, as if he needs to test out the word to believe it. “Wow.”

“As you can imagine, we have a lot to untangle now. Which is where you come in.”

“Do you need to search the house again? Have at it.”

“What I really need from you is information,” Brent explains. “Starting with as much as you can tell me about Loretta’s movements that day.”

Spencer’s right shoulder rises and falls in a shrug. “There isn’t much to tell. As far as I know, she was here the entire day. At least until she went to the party.”

Brent nods slowly. “Did she have any visitors?”

“Only the hairstylist or whatever,” Spencer says. “The glam squad.”

“Loretta had a glam squad?”

“She was having her hair done.”

“Ah.” Brent’s mind begins to swirl, especially in light of the knowledge that the poison was likely administered topically to Loretta. That partly explains why it took several hours to infiltrate her bloodstream and kill her. “Would you happen to have their contact info?”

“I don’t. But Natalie does.”

“Natalie?”

“She’s the one who made the appointment for Loretta,” Spencer says. “God only knows why.”

“I’ll follow up with your wife, then,” Brent says, doing everything he can to maintain a poker face as possibilities race through his head.

—–

Sienna rubs the tip of her index finger back and forth over the table for a few seconds before looking up at Tempest and letting out a sigh.

“I know it must’ve been a shock for Isaac to see me at that party,” she finally says. “It was a shock for me to see him, too. How would I have even known he was here?”

Tempest glowers uneasily at her. “It’s not impossible.”

“No, but he went serious no-contact on me,” Sienna explains. “Blocked on everything: phone, Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn. I wanted him to know about Noelle. But I had no way to do that.”

“So you came here and got all up in my business, thinking I could help you.”

“How would that even make sense? Move myself and my daughter to a place where we don’t know anyone, and what? Become friendly with you so I could wait months and hope you invited me to a party?”

Tempest considers this. Stated that way, it does sound ridiculous.

“You’re the one who invited me to that party,” Sienna continues. “Did I ever even ask if you happened to have a brother who lived in town?”

“No, but…”

“Because I had no idea. This is the most insane coincidence ever, I swear.”

Now it is Tempest’s turn to sigh. She exhales loudly, still weighing the circumstances in her mind.

“Of course I want Isaac to know about Noelle,” Sienna says. “I always have. I want my daughter to know her father. But I didn’t cook up some insanely convoluted plot to do it.”

“But why King’s Bay?” Tempest presses. “It’s not like you picked New York or L.A. and ran into him there. It’s King’s Bay.”

Sienna glances around the café, and Tempest can tell that she is debating something internally.

“Do you want the truth?” she asks at last.

“That’s what I’ve been asking you for.”

“I came here because it’s where Objection Designs is headquartered,” Sienna says. “I’ve always wanted to work in fashion, and I admired Molly Taylor for a long time. I thought, I don’t know, that I could set myself up here and find a way into that company.”

Tempest feels knocked off-balance by the passion in Sienna’s declaration.

“When you mentioned that your girlfriend worked there, it was all I could do not to act like a complete fangirl,” Sienna continues. “And to get invited to their big gala — that was crazy! The last thing I wanted to do was have drama and leave before the fashion show even happened.”

All Tempest can muster in response is, “Oh.”

Sienna watches her for a long moment, awaiting a response, and finally plants her palms down on the table to push herself up to a standing position.

“I’ve really liked getting to know you as a friend, Tempest,” she says, “and I’d love for you to believe me. But your loyalty is to your brother, and I get that. Hope you have a merry Christmas.”

Without giving Tempest a chance to respond — not that she has much to say at the moment — Sienna walks away from the table to return to work. Tempest lets her head hang down heavy, not sure what to think anymore.

—–

Over the table in the hospital cafeteria, Isaac shakes his head back at Diane.

“No way,” he says. “Sienna’s a game player. Crazy I used to think it was kinda cute.”

“Oh, she’s playing games all right,” Diane agrees. “But the kid — Sienna says she’s yours.”

“That’s what I can’t stop thinking about,” he admits. “If her daughter is mine…”

“You can be a father without getting caught in Sienna’s web.”

“I’d do my best. But I know how she operates.”

A few seconds of uneasy silence pass between them, as a muffled announcement sounds over the speakers. After confirming it has nothing to do with him, Isaac refocuses on Diane.

“But Tempest said she thinks the girl is mixed-race.”

“And your friend she slept with is white.”

“Yeah. So there’s that.” He drums his fingers along the edge of the table.

“You’re not going to solve any of this without engaging with Sienna,” Diane tells him. “At least long enough to get a DNA test.”

“I know,” he says. “I know it’s the only thing that will get this closer to a resolution, but it’s like I’m frozen in place or something.”

“Then I’ll help you. And if this kid is yours…”

“I can’t believe I might be a dad and not even know it,” Isaac says in disbelief.

“If she is yours, I’ll be with you every step of the way. Okay?” Diane forces him to make eye contact. “You hear me? You’ve stood by me through some messy, messy shit. If it’s my turn to do that for you, consider me there.”

“Thanks, Diane.” He manages a small smile. “So a DNA test, huh?”

“That’s where we start,” Diane says. “And if Sienna tries anything, I’ll be one step ahead of her. That I can promise you.”

END OF EPISODE 1243

Was Sienna telling Tempest the truth?
How should Isaac handle the situation?
What will Brent’s next move be?
Talk about it all in the comments below!

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