Previously…
– Samantha expressed to Tempest that she feels rushed into a wedding, and although Tempest was eager to get married after Sam’s medical crisis, she agreed to slow down the process.
– Bree pulled away from Marcus because of comments he made about her mother’s unethical activities, but the young couple reunited.
– Caleb continued to date troublemaker Jasmine.
– After prompting from her family, Rosie went to Travis on Christmas Day to tell him that she is pregnant, and she vowed to help clear him of Loretta’s murder.

The dorm room smells faintly of cleaning solution, a sure sign that King’s Bay University’s maintenance crew did a pass through the building over the winter break. Caleb Taylor drops his duffel bag down on his bed, stretching his shoulders as Christian Taylor maneuvers a cardboard box full of Christmas acquisitions through the doorway.

“I swear, it didn’t seem like we got that much stuff for Christmas,” he comments as he sets down the box and nudges it toward his bed with one foot.

“If Mom had her way, she’d have completely redecorated this place for us,” Caleb says.

“More like renovated.” Christian glances around the dorm room, with its grayish-white, cinder block walls and large windows covered by plastic vertical blinds.

Caleb checks his phone. “Still haven’t gotten the address for that off-campus party tonight.”

“I’m sure it’ll come,” Christian says as he stoops down and begins unpacking the box.  As he is pulling out an essential oil diffuser, there is a knock at the still-open door. He looks up to see Marcus Gray pushing his way into the room, with Bree Halston right behind him. Both hold ice-blue coffee cups from Thaw.

“So we’re really back, huh?” Marcus says.

“We have four days until actual classes start,” Caleb counters. “And we’re gonna make the most of ’em.” Before any of the others can respond, his phone buzzes in his hand. He checks it and then looks up again. “Jasmine‘s at the store for a shift. I’m gonna go see her before it gets too busy.”

He says his goodbyes and then departs the room. Christian goes to the corner and turns on a floor lamp, bathing the room in a soft, pleasant light.

“Mmm, this is so good!” Bree says as she savors a sip of her drink. To Christian, she explains, “Peppermint mocha. Marcus grabbed me one before they take them off the menu. Isn’t he the most thoughtful guy?”

“Anything for you,” Marcus sweetly tells his girlfriend before giving her a peck on the lips. Christian observes the sweet moment between his best friend and her boyfriend, hating the uneasy sinking feeling in his stomach that comes with it.

—–

The legal offices of Conrad Halston consist of a three-room suite in a nondescript building in downtown King’s Bay. The middle-aged attorney sits at the conference table with his laptop and a flipped-open legal pad. A half-full pot of coffee rests on a trivet near the center of the table. Travis Fisher sits beside Conrad, nervously tapping his foot as the team talks; to Travis’s other side is his wife, Rosie Jimenez.

Across the table, Sarah Fisher Gray and Landon Esco are showing a double-spaced, printed statement with particular lines highlighted in bright yellow.

“We’ve been over the hairdresser’s statement and the lab analysis of her equipment ten times,” Sarah says. “I don’t think there’s a single way we could pin this on her.”

“We don’t need to pin it on her,” Conrad hits back in a respectful but forceful tone. “We only need to suggest that there’s a chance that she could’ve done it.”

Sarah shakes her head. “We’re not seeing a way to do that. Not with the evidence we have. She hadn’t met Loretta before that day.”

“But Natalie hired her,” Rosie offers. “That has to mean something.”

“We pulled the phone logs,” Landon says, as he rifles through a folder until he finds another printout, which he slides onto the table. “Natalie got a confirmation text from the online booking portal — meaning they didn’t even communicate directly to book the appointment. There’s literally no other communication between them. Not a text, not a phone call, nothing.”

Travis leans forward, elbows on the table. “That doesn’t mean they didn’t talk in person.”

“But we have no way of establishing a meet-up or an opportunity for them to talk during that short window,” Conrad says with a sigh, ceding to the private investigators across from him. “They’ll poke holes in that without breaking a sweat.”

The room falls quiet, and the weight of Travis’s upcoming trial settles over the five of them like a load of dirt being dumped into an open grave.

“Thanks for catching me up,” Rosie says at last. She reaches for the pot of coffee and pours a stream into the chipped ceramic mug resting in front of her.

“Thanks for being here.” Travis touches her hand. “But now do you see why I’m panicking? We’ve got nothing.”

“That isn’t true,” Conrad interjects.

Travis lifts both eyebrows skeptically. “It’s not not true.”

“We’ve got you,” Landon tells his friend. “We’re going to figure this out.”

Travis casts a glance at the ticking clock on the wall. “My trial starts soon.”

“Every dead end we hit gets us closer to finding the open lane that’s going to show us where to take your defense,” Sarah says to her nephew. “Process of elimination.”

“They’re right,” Conrad says. “We’re going to find the key to your defense.”

“What about that vial of poison?” Rosie asks.

The others look at one another, unsure how to respond.

“What about it?” Travis responds. “I don’t have any clue how it got into my gym bag. I swear.”

“I believe you,” Rosie reassures him. “But that’s the key, isn’t it?”

“It’s definitely the anchor of the prosecution’s case,” Conrad says. “Once they found that vial in Travis’s bag, they were able to make the arrest. Without that–“

“Their case falls apart,” Sarah finishes for him, nodding.

Rosie absorbs that, then nods sharply. “Right. And they found it during the search — which was weeks after Loretta died. Meaning…”

“If we can sow doubt about what happened during those weeks in question, we might have a case,” Conrad says, his enthusiasm growing.

—–

The living room of Diane Bishop‘s condominium feels full, both because of the number of bodies present and the sense of anxiety that comes from Samantha Fisher and Tempest Banks gathering their parental figures in one place. The engaged couple stands on one side of the coffee table, while Tim and Claire Fisher are perched on the pink velvet sofa. Diane leans against an armchair in white with a gold frame.

“So what’s the big news?” Diane asks impatiently. “The way you’ve summoned us all, it’s either really good or really bad. Did you pick a wedding date? If we’re moving this fast, a lot is going to depend on venue availability–“

“Let’s let them tell us,” Tim suggests gently.

Diane shoots him an annoyed look but relents.

“We actually did pick a tentative date,” Samantha says. “Next fall.”

“Next fall? I thought you wanted to do this right away!” Diane turns to Tempest for confirmation. “Wasn’t that the whole idea?”

“Yeah,” Tempest says. “But we decided it’s better to wait.” Now she glances at Samantha, as if waiting for her to explain. Claire observes this subtle bit of silent communication curiously.

“We just want to hit pause and make sure we aren’t rushing,” Samantha explains. “You know, with work being busy, and me still recovering, and all the planning we have to do.”

“I can handle the planning,” Diane says.

“I’m sure Tempest and Sam want to be involved in making decisions,” Claire counters.

“Obviously, they will be.” Diane sighs and barely suppresses a roll of her eyes. “But I can take on the grunt work.”

“We appreciate that, Mom,” Samantha says. “But we do want to wait until the fall.”

Diane muses on that for half-a-second, then claps her hands together. “That means we can have an engagement party after all!”

“That could be cool, yeah,” Tempest says, a soft smile spreading over her face.

“Then we’re back where we started,” Diane declares, her full enthusiasm restored. “Let me grab my iPad.”

Claire sits back and watches Tempest for a long beat, trying to discern what’s simmering just beneath the surface with the two younger women.

When Caleb arrives at the Objection Boutique on Platt Street in downtown King’s Bay, he finds Jasmine Knight refreshing a table of cashmere sweaters near the front of the store. A single customer browses on the far side of the boutique.

“You got here fast,” Jasmine comments with a smile.

Caleb moves up to give her a quick kiss, careful to check first that her manager isn’t on the floor.

“I wanted to see you,” he says. “And you got the details on that party?”

“Yeah, Brianna got the address from her boyfriend and texted me. So we can have fun tonight.”

Caleb grins. “Good. I’m looking forward to it. Especially before classes start up. Did you get your schedule all figured out?”

“Um, yeah.” Jasmine goes quiet as she finishes folding a sweater. “About that.”

“What? Was the registrar still giving you a hard time?”

Jasmine places the sweater down on a stack of identical pieces and turns toward her boyfriend. “They won’t let me take any 300-level business classes because I’m missing too many prerequisites.”

“You’ve taken a bunch.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t pass them all.” Jasmine lets out a weighty sigh. “My grades suck. I’m not a college person, you know?”

“You’re smart, Jaz.”

“Not like that. So I’ve been thinking… why keep wasting tuition money? Especially since I have loans. I have a good job here. I don’t need to do all that.”

He furrows his brow. “Are you talking about dropping out?”

“I want to get an apartment down here, live downtown, start my actual life, you know?” She takes his hand and intertwines her fingers with his. “And I want you with me.”

“I can’t move off-campus mid-year.”

“You can. If you drop out, too.”

Stunned, he takes a step backward. “I’m not dropping out of college.”

“Jeez. It’s not like I suggested you go murder a little old lady.” She drops his hand. “But seriously, what’s the point? Your mom literally runs this entire company. You’re getting a business degree so you can… what? Get a job at a company just like hers?”

“I wanna be as successful as my mom. More successful. I need my degree for that.”

“No, you don’t. It’s all a scam. Don’t you see that?”

“I’m not dropping out, Jaz. I’m sorry,” he says, scanning her for signs that she is angry with him.

She shrugs and resumes folding sweaters. “You do you. And I’m gonna do me. I’m ready to get on with my life.”

“I guess you can always go back and finish later if you change your mind,” he reasons.

“I’m not gonna do that. So don’t start pressuring me, okay?”

“Okay,” Caleb says, his head still spinning a little. “I’ll support you in whatever you decide.”

“Good. Now how about we focus on having fun tonight?”

“I like the sound of that,” he responds with a smile — one that she matches.

—–

In the conference room, Rosie folds her hands on the tabletop as she shifts fully into investigator mode. “What we need to figure out, then, is who had access to that bag.”

“I don’t usually use a lock when I put it in my gym locker,” Travis says uneasily, realizing how exposed he left himself without even knowing it.

“And where do you work out?” Conrad asks.

“Edge of Winter Arena,” Rosie says before Travis even has a chance. They trade an amused look, pleased to be back in-step after so many months of turmoil. When Rosie leans back in her chair and places her hands on the subtle bulge in her stomach, Travis finds himself lost in wonder; for now, her pregnancy is their secret, but the knowledge sends a kick of adrenaline through his body. They have to figure this out.

“It’s not really a public gym,” he explains. “So no one locks up their stuff.”

“But other people use it,” Conrad says.

“Mostly athletes who train there,” Travis says.

“I’ve been there to work out with Travis a couple times,” Landon adds. “Some of those hockey players are putting up crazy weight — not to mention those figure-skating girls. Kinda scares me.”

“It’s a pretty tight membership list,” Sarah says. “I can check with my brother and get a fairly accurate list.”

“We should see if they have security cameras that are anywhere near the gym entrance,” Rosie says. “Even the arena’s main entrance–“

“But it’ll be a lot easier to sort through only the people who  use the gym,” Sarah finishes for her. She quickly jots something down on her notepad.

Conrad steeples his fingers. “Someone would have had to know Travis’s routine. And there’s no telling when they slipped that vial in there. It could’ve been before the murder, or between then and the search.”

Sarah and Landon share a wordless nod.

“I’ll start a few weeks before Loretta’s death,” Landon says.

“I want to go through it with you,” Rosie insists. “Because we can’t defend that the vial exists. It was in that gym bag. What we need to prove is that someone else put it there–“

“And whoever did knew they were framing Travis for this murder,” Conrad says. The room settles into a new type of silence — no longer defeated or frustrated, but energized by this new possibility.

END OF EPISODE 1287

Will the security footage help Travis’s case?
Is it a mistake for Jasmine to drop out?
Is Tempest really okay delaying the wedding?
Discuss it all in the comments below!

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