Previously…
– After Rosie revealed her pregnancy to Travis, they reunited, with Travis’s upcoming trial for Loretta’s murder looming over them.
– Trevor continued covertly covering half of Finn’s rent in exchange for Finn keeping quiet about their one-night stand.
– Rosie questioned Finn about the night Loretta died and remained suspicious of his level of interest in Objection Designs.

“Oh my god! How far along are you?”

As soon as the words leave her lips, Claire Fisher clasps both hands over her mouth. She and Tim Fisher sit on the sofa in the living room of their comfortable, lived-in house, with a knitted throw blanket tossed over the arm of the sofa and an apple-cinnamon candle burning on a nearby side table.

“I’m just into my second trimester,” Rosie Jimenez answers. Rosie and Travis Fisher stand across the coffee table from Tim and Claire, holding hands as they excitedly share their big news.

“That’s incredible news,” Tim manages, blinking fast as he processes the information.

Claire leaps to her feet. “This is wonderful. Just… wonderful.” She embraces her daughter-in-law and then her son.

Eyes shining, Tim looks up at Travis. Then he claps his hands on his thighs and stands, moving to give both Rosie and then Travis hugs.

“You’re going to be a dad. Again.”

Travis nods. His voice catches as he says, “We know this isn’t exactly the ideal time for news like this, but…”

“This is life,” Tim says, his tone gentle but firm. “These are the things we have to hold onto during difficult times.”

“I think ‘difficult’ might be an understatement,” Travis says. “I’m about to go on trial for a murder I didn’t commit–“

“And we’re going to clear your name,” Rosie cuts in with determination.

“Rosie’s right. We’ll get through this,” Claire says with a rousing smile.

Travis draws his lips together in a thin line, almost as if he is too scared to allow himself to hope.

“Actually, I might have a lead,” Rosie tells them. “And if my instincts are right, it might blow this case wide-open.”

Trevor Brooks strides into the lobby of Objection Designs, on the eighteenth floor of Winston Tower. The space is bright, modern, and immaculate, with its marble floors and glass walls. He looks first at the receptionist, but before he can even ask her about the call he just received, he notices the other person in the lobby.

Finn Campbell looks composed — brown hair perfectly coiffed, Burberry trench coat tied at his waist — but there is a tension radiating off him that makes Trevor immediately nervous. Trevor sets a suspicious look on him, and Finn meets it with gleaming eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Trevor hisses through gritted teeth.

“We need to talk,” Finn says.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Trevor tells the receptionist, “Thanks, Kristi.” He nods his head toward the bullpen, evaluating the activity level inside, and then tells Finn, “Follow me. Fast.”

He uses his badge to swipe them back in, and they move swiftly through the maze of cubicles and conversation seating until they reach Trevor’s office. Trevor practically pushes Finn through the open door, their personal space briefly overlapping. A second later, the door closes, sealing the two men inside the private office.

Samantha Fisher pauses mid-step, her tablet in hand. She had been on her way to show Trevor two potential ad layouts when she spotted him hustling Finn into his office. Something about the men’s demeanors tells her not to interrupt.

“Huh,” she says, brow creased, as she looks down at the tablet, even though the words and images on it are merely an unfocused blur now.

—–

Travis looks at Rosie, surprised — and a little hopeful, despite himself.

“What kind of lead?” he asks, his voice still guarded.

“I went to have a chat with Finn Campbell,” she explains.

Claire tilts her head to one side. “The police cleared him before the ink on Loretta‘s death certificate was even dry.”

“They cleared him because they determined Loretta had been poisoned and that Finn didn’t do anything to kill her in that moment,” Rosie says. The trio of Fishers glance at one another, eyes widening with realization.

“You think Finn could’ve been the one to poison her? Why?” Tim asks.

Rosie’s left shoulder rises and falls in a shrug. “I don’t know, exactly. But something is weird. He’s lying about something — maybe not the murder itself. Loretta never worked alone.”

“She hired a lot of people to do her dirty work,” Travis continues. “Or blackmailed them.”

“Like that doctor she blackmailed into telling Molly that Gabrielle had died at birth,” Tim says.

“Or Eric Westin,” Rosie adds. “She hired him to kidnap me–“

“Finn was trying to push Aunt Molly out of Objection, wasn’t he?” Travis interjects.

Both Tim and Rosie nod their heads.

“We already know that Loretta wanted to destroy Molly because she blamed her for what happened to Philip,” Rosie says.

“‘What happened to Philip,'” Tim scoffs. “That lunatic killed my father — and five other people.” He quickly looks toward Claire and touches her arm. “I know he was your brother, but…”

“No, he was a lunatic,” Claire agrees. “Just like our father. And Loretta.”

“But how does this help my case?” Travis asks. “You think Finn actually poisoned Loretta? I can’t even begin to figure out how he would’ve gotten that vial into my gym bag.”

“Finn wasn’t the only one trying to oust Molly from Objection,” Rosie says. “The ringleader was his boss. Gia Vincent.”

This new information settles over the room like a crack forming in solid ground.

“And if Gia was resentful that the whole thing ended with her getting thrown out on her ass,” Tim ponders aloud, “then maybe she would’ve gone after Loretta.”

“Right,” Rosie says.

“If they were even connected,” Travis says.

Rosie takes his hand. “I know it’s loose, and maybe it’s nothing, but it’s also not nothing. It means we’re not done looking.”

“And now, more than ever, you two have something to fight for,” Claire says, gesturing at Rosie’s stomach. She is not yet showing, at least not to the uninformed eye, but the awareness of her pregnancy has added a charge to all four adults.

“We’re going to figure out the truth,” Tim vows, gaze locked on his son. “Somehow, someway, we’re going to prove what really happened to Loretta.”

—–

After Trevor’s office door closes with a decisive click, neither man speaks for a beat. Then Trevor moves around the desk, pushing up the sleeves of his cashmere sweater with shaking fingers that he hopes Finn doesn’t notice. Finn stays where he is, taking in the office, the framed photos of Trevor with his husband and their son.

“New receptionist, huh?” Finn says. “I thought someone might call security when I turned up here, but she had no idea who I was.”

“You can’t just show up here,” Trevor says flatly.

“This is important. Rosie Jimenez came to see me.”

“What? Why?”

“She’s desperately turning over every rock she can to try and help Travis’s defense,” Finn says.

“Of course she is,” Trevor retorts. “Her husband is facing murder charges. And she used to be a cop.”

Finn steps closer. “She’s asking some very interesting questions. Pointed questions. About me.”

Trevor stills. “You didn’t do anything to Loretta Ragan… did you?”

“No! I’m not a murderer, Trevor. Jesus. Is that what you think of me?”

“I… I don’t know,” Trevor admits.

“You think I’m capable of killing someone?”

“I didn’t say that! I just– I don’t know what to think sometimes.”

“She was asking questions about my connection to Objection,” Finn says. “Or my interest in it, rather.”

“I don’t understand what this has to do with me, Finn. Or why you’re here.” Trevor peers anxiously at the door, as if double-checking that it is still closed, that no one might witness this tense encounter.

“You’re the only one who knows!” Finn exclaims. “Or–” He stops himself, and the strange hitch in the conversation is not lost on Trevor. “You are the only person who knows that Camille Lemieux was my mother.”

“I didn’t tell anyone anything. Why would I tell anyone that? Why would I even be talking to Rosie about that?”

“I don’t know, Trevor! But I get the sense that she’s onto me,” Finn says.

Trevor looks back at him. “What does it even matter?”

Finn bites his lip, then shakes his head. “It isn’t something I want people knowing.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” Finn’s eyes flick over Trevor: the perfectly fitted cashmere sweater, the wedding band, the flecks of gray in his brown hair and stubble. “If I find out you did say something, I’ll have to–“

“Tell Alex. About us.”

“I don’t want to.”

They are standing much too close now. Finn reaches out a fingertip and traces it along Trevor’s collarbone.

“But I will, if I have to,” he says. “I’ll tell him all about how you and I–“

“Enough.” Trevor takes a forceful step backward, knocking into the desk as he does so. “I did not say a word about you or Camille to anyone, including Rosie. I’m still covering your rent, which is killing me, but I’m doing it. What more do you want from me?”

Again Finn’s eyes meet his. There is a fire in them, a passion, that makes words unnecessary.

“Do you know what it’s like to spend your whole life being someone’s dirty little secret?” Finn asks.

Trevor’s voice is low, defensive — but not unkind: “No. That’s not what I’m trying to do here. I’m just…”

“Stuck between a rock and a hard place. Join the club.” Finn turns and pulls open the door, but then spins back toward Trevor. “You’d better be telling me the truth.”

“I am. I swear.”

Finn steps out, and the door closes behind him. Trevor stands alone in the quiet office, pulse racing, Finn’s threats still hanging in the air.

—–

Out in the bullpen, Objection Designs hums with low, everyday activity: phones ringing, keyboards tapping, muted conversations. Samantha sits at her desk, responding to an email, when the sound of a door opening and closing pulls her attention — though, to be fair, part of her has been waiting for the alert already.

Glancing up, she sees Finn moving away from Trevor’s office, straightening his coat with an expression that looks like it is working overtime to remain neutral. She watches him beeline for the lobby and push his way through the swinging glass door.

Again she looks to Trevor’s office. The door remains closed, a seal holding in whatever happened in there. She knows that it is none of her business, but something about it seems strange.

Maybe it was a rent thing, she wonders, but even that doesn’t quite sit right with her.

END OF EPISODE 1291

Is Samantha right to be suspicious?
What should Trevor do about Finn?
Will Rosie find out anything useful?
Talk about it all in the comments below!

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