Previously…
– Travis anxiously awaited the start of his trial for Loretta Ragan’s murder.
– Rosie desperately questioned Finn about the night that Loretta died and became suspicious that he or Gia Vincent could have been conspiring with Loretta.
– Sarah and Landon covertly pursued the idea that someone inside the Jimenez home might have planted the vial of poison in Travis’s gym bag.

Early light slants in through the blinds above the kitchen sink. Travis Fisher sits at the table in his father‘s kitchen, shoulders hunched as he stares at the steaming cup that Tim has just set before him.

“So, you couldn’t sleep?” Tim asks, his voice low, trying to be as casual and conversational as possible.

Travis shrugs. “I don’t think I was asleep for more than 30 minutes at a time. I couldn’t stop thinking about… everything, I guess.”

“It’s an important day.” Tim pulls out the chair opposite his son and sits down. “This won’t be forever.”

“Yeah. I could be in prison forever.” Travis’s head slumps down.

“We have to be optimistic. Conrad is working hard. And you have your Aunt Sarah, and Landon, and Rosie… all doing their best to dig up anything that could exonerate you.”

Travis gives a half-smile that doesn’t quite rise to his eyes. “Rosie’s already downtown, running around, chasing down leads. I feel so useless.”

“You’re not a cop or a P.I.,” Tim offers. “She loves you. That’s why she’s fighting so hard.”

“And we have a kid on the way who I’m supposed to provide for.” Travis stares down into the hot coffee. “I don’t get how everything turned into such a mess.”

Tim smirks. “Life is a mess. You kind of get used to it. And this trial beginning… this is your chance to prove your innocence. I have faith.”

“That makes one of us,” Travis says solemnly.

“We’re going to figure out who killed Loretta,” Tim tells him. “You’re not going to prison for this.”

“I wish I had that same confidence.” Slowly, Travis lifts the mug, blows on the coffee, and takes a sip, overwhelmed by what the day might hold.

A faint winter breeze blows as Landon Esco stands outside the courthouse, one shoulder leaned against the brick exterior of the building as he holds a to-go coffee cup from Thaw in one hand. The day is chilly and gray. He groans at the sight of  another news van pulling into the lot; the fact that local media will be swarming the first day of Travis’s trial makes him feel deeply unsettled.

A black Mercedes sedan glides into the parking lot. Landon tenses. Moments later, Conrad Halston steps out of the Mercedes and hurries toward the front of the building.

“I didn’t expect it to be such a scene here so early,” Conrad comments as he steps up onto the landing to greet the private investigator.

“I know. Four news crews already,” Landon says.

Conrad pulls a manila envelope from the inside of his coat. “This is everything.”

Landon nods quickly as he accepts the envelope. “Juanita Jimenez‘s cell records?”

“Yes. I subpoenaed them under the lightest pretense I could, which was just to confirm everyone’s location. I don’t think it set off alarm bells for anyone.”

“Or someone is freaking out inside,” Landon counters.

Conrad agrees with a tight, grim nod. “That, too. But we have the records. Who knows what they’ll show us?”

“Sarah and I will go through these right away. If there’s anything of interest–“

“Let me know immediately. We’re up against the clock here,” Conrad says. “I thought jury selection would’ve taken a few more days.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe it’s starting either.” Landon tucks the folder under his arm. “We’ll get back to you as soon as humanly possible on this.”

“Thanks, Landon. Leave no stone unturned.” Conrad glances out at the news crews, beginning to unpack their equipment and set up. “We don’t have much time to clear Travis’s name.”

Cassie’s Coffee House is abuzz with the energy of the morning rush. Rosie Jimenez sits at a table by the windows, AirPods in her ears and phone in hand. She scans the questions she has jotted down in her notebook, circling them over and over with frustration as the phone rings endlessly.

Once again, the voicemail greeting pops up. Rosie sighs and then speaks:

“Gia, this is Rosie Jimenez again. I’m calling from King’s Bay. I know that you’ve relocated to New York, but I have a few questions for you about things going on in King’s Bay — things that could be very important for my husband. Please give me a call back at this number as soon as possible.”

She hangs up and simply stares at the blank screen on her phone, as if willing something — anything — to happen. She touches a finger to the screen, and the display lights up with the time. Her heart tightens at the realization that she needs to get to the courthouse soon. She had hoped to come up with some last-minute Hail Mary before the trial officially begins, but with the clock ticking, that doesn’t seem too likely.

“Dammit,” she mutters as she gazes out the window, sure that she can hear the persistent ticking of a clock in her ears.

—–

Landon spreads the countless pages of phone records over the table in the Fishers’ basement, which now serves at the headquarters of Sarah Fisher Gray‘s private investigative firm. Sarah leans over, scanning the columns of numbers and data.

“Talk about looking for a needle in a haystack,” she comments.

“Except it’s like we have no idea what a needle even looks like,” Landon replies as he sits back in his chair.

“That, too.” Sarah lets out a sigh but never breaks eye contacts with the printouts. “This could be a wild goose chase, too.”

Landon runs a hand over his black hair. “The budding P.I. in me really wants to find something in here… but the part of me that’s best friends with Travis really doesn’t want to have to tell him that his mother-in-law committed a murder that he could go down for.”

“I understand completely,” Sarah agrees. She rests her elbows on the table as she continues scanning the records, and Landon follows suit, looking over column after column of data.

“Here,” he says. “This is right around the time Loretta would’ve been poisoned.”

Sarah follows his fingertip to a specific spot on the page. “And Juanita wasn’t at home at that time.”

“I don’t know that this puts her in the vicinity of the Ragan home…”

“But it shows that she left the house during that window,” Sarah says. “That could be what we need.”

Landon stares at the page for several more seconds, attempting to process the possibilities.

“It isn’t conclusive, but it gives us something to build on,” she adds.

“So what do we do?” Landon questions. “We burst into the courtroom and announced that Rosie’s mom maybe-kinda-sorta could’ve killed Loretta? And she’s letting Travis take the fall?”

Sarah sets her jaw. “We feel it out more and we talk to Conrad. I’m not throwing a grenade until we know what it actually is… and if it could help Travis.”

—–

The courtroom is buzzing with chatter and anxious energy as Rosie hurries inside. Logically, she knows that she is not late, but she feels horrible for having left Travis waiting at all.

“I’m here,” she says as she arrives at the railing that separates the defendant’s and prosecutor’s tables from the gallery.

Travis, already standing beside Conrad, turns and immediately throws his arms around her. The wooden railing separates them, but he presses himself into her, grateful for her presence.

“Did you find anything?” he asks, his eyes wild with desperation.

She hesitates, then shakes her head. “Nothing yet. I’m working on it.”

“Thank you,” he says.

Rosie touches the lapel of his charcoal gray suit, smoothing it even though the garment does not need it.

At the back of the courtroom, Paula Fisher enters quietly, with Sarah and Matt Gray flanking her.

“It was nice of Landon to drive us,” Paula comments. “You two looked like you were awfully busy at work a little while ago.”

“We’re trying to find anything we can to clear Travis’s name,” Sarah says.

“He’s lucky to have you guys on his side,” Matt says.

Sarah casts a nervous look at her husband. “Let’s not count our chickens before they’ve hatched.”

The trio finds a spot in the gallery in the same row as Tim and Claire. Paula sits beside her son, placing her purse in her lap and folding her hands over it.

“Hi, Mom,” Tim says. “Travis will be so glad to have you here.”

“I don’t know if there’s much for anyone to be glad about right now,” Paula responds, casting wary glances around the courtroom. “But we do need to be here for Travis.”

“It means a lot,” Claire offers. “We know it can’t be easy for you to be back here.”

Paula nods her head sharply. “It’s strange, yes. I really hoped I would never have to see this place again.”

“You took accountability for what you did, Paula,” Matt leans over and says. “And we’re all grateful for that.”

“Even if you shouldn’t have had to,” Sarah says with a sigh.

“And I’ll be fine,” Paula says, sitting up straighter. “What matters now is that we’re all here to support Travis, and that he feels that support.”

The sound of the courtroom doors opening and closing echoes through the space. Tim turns his head and sees Spencer Ragan entering, Natalie Bishop by his side.

Tim raises his hand in a greeting toward his son. Spencer stares back at the Fishers, then gives a curt nod and leads Natalie to the other side of the courtroom, where they seat themselves behind the prosecution.

Claire watches their son moving away.

“This is a mess,” she says quietly. “I don’t even know how we can support both our sons right now.”

“I wish I had an answer for you,” Tim replies, his voice tight.

—–

Outside the courthouse, Landon pulls his car into a parking space and turns off the engine. He looks out at the news crews swarming the front steps of the building and imagines the anxiety that Travis must be feeling right now.

“We have to figure out how to save you,” he says aloud to the empty vehicle. “And we have to do it right away.”

He opens the car door and steps out, bracing to push his way through the newshounds at the entrance of the courthouse.

—–

“Court is now in session!” Judge Harold Washburn declares as he raps his gavel down. “We’ll begin with opening statements.”

Travis and Conrad, seated together at the defense table, trade a quick look as the District Attorney, Audrey Tam, rises to her feet. Her demeanor is calm, precise, and measured — the kind of presence that can command attention without a raised voice or overt theatrics. Her gaze fixes briefly upon Travis before floating back toward the jury.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” she begins, voice steady and deliberate. “Over the coming days and weeks, you will hear about a sequence of events that resulted in the death of a woman — a mother and grandmother whose life was taken abruptly and cruelly.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tim whispers to Claire. She grips his wrist in sympathy while lifting her own eyebrows, as dubious of this portrait of Loretta as he is.

“The victim, Loretta Ragan, was not a perfect person,” the D.A. continues. “You will undoubtedly hear testimony establishing that fact. What I want to remind you of is that the victim’s character is irrelevant here. Murder — premeditated, intentional, cold-blooded murder — is illegal. What we are here to establish is who is responsible for Loretta Ragan’s murder. And I encourage you to listen very carefully to the evidence that is going to be presented.”

Her heels clack lightly against the linoleum floor as she methodically paces in front of the jury box.

“What you will learn,” Tam says, “is that the defendant seated before you — Travis Fisher — had the means, motive, and opportunity to commit this crime.”

Travis closes his eyes and lowers his head — only to lift both his eyelids and his chin almost immediately, recalling Conrad’s coaching about how to present himself in the courtroom. He looks over to see Conrad giving him an encouraging nod.

In the gallery, Spencer grits his teeth as he watches the D.A. intently.

“Get him,” he says quietly but viciously.

Natalie brushes a strand of auburn hair out of her eyes, doing her best not to let her conflicted emotions show.

“One step at a time,” she tells him.

“By the time the prosecution is through presenting its case, you will agree that Travis Fisher is, beyond a reasonable doubt, the person responsible for Loretta Ragan’s murder,” Audrey Tam states.

Travis turns his head, looking back toward Rosie for reassurance. She sucks in a breath, wishing so badly that she could reach out and hold her husband.

END OF EPISODE 1293

Will Travis’s team be able to counter the prosecution’s case?
Are Juanita’s phone records going to lead somewhere meaningful?
Should Landon and Sarah share their suspicions yet?
Discuss all this and more in the comments below!

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