Previously…
– A masked man with a gun targeted Rosie while she and Travis were at Paula’s house for dinner. In an effort to alert the police, Paula ran into the street, triggering her house arrest monitor. The man got away, and Paula was held overnight in police custody while awaiting a hearing to determine whether she violated her sentence.
– Alex and Trevor settled into married life with their adopted son, Chase.
– Tim and Sonja went on an official date, though she continued to harbor the secret that a person she believes to be Loretta Ragan is paying her to help keep Spencer’s memory from returning.

Raindrops dribble lazily from the sky as Travis Fisher parks his car outside the King’s Bay Courthouse. He locks it and hurries toward the building’s entrance. He knows that his family is already inside, waiting with his grandmother for her hearing. Travis’s stomach remains twisted into the same knot as it has been ever since yesterday, when the masked gunman confronted him and Rosie Jimenez at Paula’s house, causing Paula to run into the street for the purpose of setting off her ankle monitor and summoning the authorities.

Now, she has to go before a judge to determine whether this was a violation of her house arrest and will require an extension of her sentence or, perhaps, something even worse.

Travis can’t help but feel guilty for Paula’s predicament. He has known all along that Rosie was hiding something, but he liked her so much that he chose to believe her when she said that it was purely personal and nothing that he needed to concern himself with. He sees his family through the glass wall that makes up the building’s front. His mother waits with Brent Taylor, and his Aunts Molly and Sarah are also there, as is his Uncle Jason.

He is about to ascend the short flight of steps when he hears a voice calling his name.

“Travis!”

He knew that he would have to face her today, but no amount of preparation has made him ready to see Rosie. Nevertheless, he stops and slowly turns. She is dressed in the navy uniform of the King’s Bay PD. He has grown so unaccustomed to seeing her like this, and yet, it is somehow fitting that on a day like this, when her past has caused so many problems that she refused to acknowledge, she looks less like the girlfriend he has known for the past year and more like the cop with the attitude with whom he had such conflict way back when.

“Hey,” she says, quickening her steps to close the gap between them.

“Hey,” Travis manages to mutter.

“How’s your grandma doing?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I haven’t been able to talk to her yet. She’s inside already. She spent the night in jail.”

“Yeah,” Rosie answers, sadly. “Travis, I just… I want you to know how sorry I am for what happened.”

“Thanks.” He finds it difficult to look at her, difficult to look at anything but the dirty pavement being dotted by the rain.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he tells her. “For months, you made me out to be the bad guy, for being curious about your past, for asking questions — and then this happens.”

“I know. I deserve that. I… I didn’t want to cause any trouble for you.”

“But you did! In a worse way than I bet you even imagined.”

“Travis, I’m going to go in there and testify as a police officer that your grandma was only doing what she had to do to get the police’s attention. They’re not going to send her to prison.”

“You don’t know that! She never would’ve had to do that in the first place if you’d just been upfront with me. What the hell was even going on? Who was that guy?”

“It’s just– it’s–”

The way that she stammers and hesitates is enough to tell Travis everything he needs to know.

“I have to go inside,” he says. “You’d better hope that what we have to say is enough to keep my grandma out of jail. See you later, Rosie.” He spins on his heels and quickly heads up the stairs to join his family.

Rosie waits, not wanting to interrupt the Fishers. Finally, when she sees them begin to head to the courtroom, she moves to the entrance and goes inside. But an instinct is rising up inside her, an urge, and she knows what she has to do.

“Commander Taylor!” she calls out.

Brent turns around, surprised.

“Jimenez,” he says sternly.

“Do you have a minute?” she asks.

Claire lingers protectively by Brent’s side, but he gives her the silent okay to go on ahead. She follows Travis and the others into the courtroom.

“What is it, Jimenez?”

“I’m supposed to testify on Paula’s behalf,” she says, “but there’s something I need you to know.”

—–

Tim Fisher skillfully ties his necktie as he bounds down the steps of his house. When he reaches the landing, however, he pauses, thrown to see Sonja Kahale in the foyer, pulling on a pair of boots. Standing beside her is a rolling suitcase.

“Sonja,” he says, “are you going somewhere?”

She looks up, alarm flashing over her face before settling.

“Good morning. I was waiting for you before I left.”

“Left? Where are you going?”

“I have to make a quick trip out of town,” she explains. “Since this is my last week as Spencer’s caretaker, anyway, I just…”

“Oh,” Tim says, realization dawning upon him. “Did something happen with your mother? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I am, really. It’s just something I have to handle. Family stuff. It isn’t a big deal. I won’t be gone long.”

Tim descends the remaining stairs and stands before her. “I’m glad to hear that. I’d miss you.”

She grins at him. “I’d miss you, too. I really enjoyed our date.”

“So did I.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be there for your mother’s hearing,” she says, “but know that you’ll all be in my thoughts.”

“Of course. Take care of what you have to take care. And when you get back…”

“I’ll need to find an apartment. And you know what that means.”

Now Tim is the one grinning at her. “It means more date nights that don’t end with us having to change into sweats to watch a movie while my kids walk in and out.”

“Exactly.”

He squeezes her hand. “I really do hope everything’s all right with your mom.”

“Thank you,” she says solemnly, as her eyelids flicker closed. “Wait a second.”

She reaches up and tightens the knot on his tie. “There.”

“Thanks,” he says. “When’s your flight?”

“I’m going to call a car in five or ten minutes. Are you headed to the courthouse?”

“Yep,” he says.

“Please let me know how things go.”

“I will. Travel safely, okay? I’ll see you as soon as you’re back. Let me know when.”

“That I can do,” she says before leaning toward him. Their lips meet, and they share a sweet kiss brimming with excitement — and the potential for even more. They part slowly, almost mournfully.

“I’ll see you very soon,” Tim tells her, “and we are going to pick up where we left off.”

“Sounds great to me.”

He lets himself out of the house and closes the door. Sonja stares after him for a long moment, a guilty weight pressing down upon her. She pulls out her phone and checks the time. Even in ten or fifteen minutes, it would be early to head to the airport, but she might as well get moving — now that she has set this in motion, she needs to get to her destination and deal with it.

Checking to be certain that she is alone in the house, she pulls up her recent calls and redials one of the numbers. The operator greets her, and then it is her turn to speak.

“Hi,” she says. “My name is Sonja Kahale. I’m about to get on a plane, and I wanted to confirm an appointment for tomorrow morning. I’m scheduled to meet with Loretta Ragan.”

“Yes,” the operator responds. “Ms. Ragan has agreed to meet with you at 9 a.m.”

“Excellent. Thank you.”

Once the call is over, she uses her phone to page a ride to the airport. As she waits for it, she cannot help but hope that this conversation with Loretta will help her put an end to this duplicity once and for all, so that she can move forward the way that she wants with Tim.

—–

Sometime later, in a small courtroom, much of the Fisher family sits in the gallery, listening to Travis give his account of yesterday’s events. Paula is stationed at a table next to Conrad Halston, dressed in a plain navy blazer and skirt. From Travis’s vantage point on the witness, his grandmother looks so harmless, so sweet and, well, grandmotherly, that he cannot fathom how she is even here in the first place — how she shot a man and wound up on house arrest for it. Then again, when he thinks of what Philip Ragan did to his grandfather, his uncle, and all those other people, he almost can imagine doing exactly what Paula did on the day that she shot and killed Philip.

The district attorney, Audrey Tam, asks Travis a slew of questions, most of them thankfully straightforward — but one of the dangerous ones, as Conrad advised him, suddenly crops up.

“This man in the mask,” Tam says, “did he give you any indication that he had business with anyone but you or Officer Jimenez?”

Travis’s gaze flits over toward Conrad, hoping for some guidance, but the attorney’s face is the epitome of composure.

“I think he thought we were alone in the house,” Travis says. “Like he thought it was my house.”

“But your grandmother was in the kitchen, correct?”

“Yes. When I called for Rosie, I tried to do it so she’d know that she needed to come out alone and leave my grandma in the kitchen — so he wouldn’t know she was there.”

“Then Mrs. Fisher had no way of knowing exactly who was in the house or what was going on?”

“No,” Travis admits, sighing with guilt at having to tell this truth that won’t help his grandma. “I guess she might’ve been able to look…”

“According to the diagram of the house that we reviewed earlier,” Tam continues, “and your statement that the masked man remained in the foyer the entire time, would it have been possible for Mrs. Fisher to see what was going on in the foyer?”

Travis hesitates before answering. “Probably not.”

“When Mrs. Fisher was found outside of the perimeter of her approved house arrest area, she had a cell phone in her hand. That phone belonged to you, correct?”

“It did. I left it in the kitchen.”

“So Mrs. Fisher had access to a cell phone and yet claims that she had to violate her sentence in order to summon the police?”

“Maybe she was nervous,” Travis says. “Maybe she didn’t know how to use it. My phone was locked.”

“Very well.” The D.A. takes a few excruciatingly slow steps over the dated linoleum floor of the courtroom. “No further questions.”

The judge motions to Conrad, who is already on his way out of his chair. He approaches Travis, who takes a moment to offer Paula an encouraging look. In the gallery, he sees his father, his mother, and the remainder of the family, tension radiating off every last one of them.

“Mr. Fisher, as you testified previously,” Conrad says, “this masked man who forced his way into your grandparents’ home — he had a gun, yes?”

“He did,” Travis replies emphatically. “He took it out right away. That’s how he got me to call Rosie.”

“He threatened you with the gun in order to make you call Officer Jimenez out to the entry. Is that right?”

Nodding, Travis says, “Yeah. He did.”

“Very well,” Conrad continues. “And when Officer Jimenez joined you and this man, what did he say to her?”

Travis fumbles to find words. “I didn’t totally understand it. He was insinuating they had some– some kind of secret, that Rosie might be doing something that was causing him trouble. I’m sorry. I didn’t totally follow it.”

“You and Officer Jimenez, as we’ve established, have been dating. Approximately how long have you had a personal relationship?”

“Over a year.”

“And yet, you had no knowledge of what was going on between her and this intruder?”

“No. She had never told me anything. I was pretty much in the dark.”

“So it’s fair to say that you, as Officer Jimenez’s boyfriend, had no idea what was going on, your grandmother certainly wouldn’t have?”

“I guess not,” Travis says.

“If so, all your grandma would’ve known was that there was a mysterious, dangerous person in the house–”

“Objection!” the D.A. calls out. “Speculation.”

“Sustained,” the judge declares.

“All right,” Conrad says politely. He looks again at Travis. “Your cell phone has a security code on it?”

“Yeah. I have a passcode and the– the face ID thing.”

“Which means that no one who doesn’t have the passcode or your actual face can unlock the phone, yes?”

“Right.”

“So if that were the only phone in the kitchen with your grandmother, it’s conceivable that she might not have been able to access it to call the authorities.”

“Yeah,” Travis says.

Audrey Tam springs out of her seat again. “Objection. Speculation.”

“Sustained,” the judge repeats.

“All right,” Conrad says, holding up his hands. “No further questions.”

“You may step down,” the judge says to Travis.

He feels all eyes on him as he steps off the witness stand and returns to his seat. For the hundredth time, he notices Rosie, sitting in the back with two other KBPD officers.

“You did great,” Tim quietly tells his son.

“Will you be calling another witness?” the judge asks the D.A.

“Yes, Your Honor. The state calls Officer Rosie Jimenez to the stand.”

Instinctively, Travis cranes his neck and watches Rosie rise from her spot and head to the stand.

——

“I feel bad that I’m not at the courthouse,” Alex Marshall says as he pours another cup of coffee from the pot on the counter.

“I know,” his husband replies from his seat at the kitchen table, where he is attempting to feed their son breakfast with minimal success.

“Hold still,” Trevor Brooks says to Chase. “Wiggling around is not gonna make this easier.”

Alex lets a slight laugh escape his throat at the sight. Trevor finally manages to get the spoon full of food into Chase’s mouth.

“But it’s kind of a family thing,” Trevor adds, looking back to Alex. “You don’t want to be stepping on any toes or intruding.”

“I know. And Jason will let me know what happens. I’m worried about Paula, that’s all.”

“What happened at her house yesterday sounds insane.”

“Yeah.” Alex blows on his coffee to cool it down. “It sounds like something out of a movie.” He watches Chase squirm as Trevor tries valiantly to continue feeding the boy before a thought occurs to him.

“Hey, did we get the bill from the pediatrician yesterday?” he asks. “I want to make sure it’s paid so we can call in his prescription refill–”

“Crap. I forgot to get the mail.”

“I’ll go get it.” Alex sets down his coffee, grabs his keys, and heads outside into the light drizzle.

He opens the mailbox, pulls out its contents, and hurries back beneath the cover of the bungalow’s front porch. Once there, he flips through the various envelopes. Sure enough, there is one from the pediatrician’s office, no doubt with a bill inside. However, it is the next item that steals his attention. The envelope is an elegant black, with a label on it with his name and address printed on it. But what stands out most is the gold logo in the upper left corner — the logo of the movie studio for whom his novel was being developed into a film.

Unconsciously holding his breath, Alex tucks the rest of the mail under his arm and tears open the black envelope. Inside, he finds a matching piece of cardstock with gold writing on it. At the top is the same logo as was on the outside of the envelope. Beneath it is gold print inviting him to the premiere of the movie in Los Angeles.

“Whoa,” he mutters to himself. He remains on the porch for several seconds, maybe even a minute, turning over the situation in his head. He had heard, through Vision Publishing, that filming on the movie had been completed, but in the wake of all that has happened in the past year — getting married, adopting a son — the project that Liam cut him out of so completely has almost seemed to exist in another universe. But now here it is, a real movie, a story that is going to be told onscreen — his story, or at least that’s what it began as. He has no idea what the screenplay became after Liam got him fired from it, and he has no clue what it developed into through the course of filming. But now he will have the chance.

His brain still swirling, Alex goes back inside, where Trevor is now cleaning up the baby’s face in the high-chair.

“Did it come?” Trevor asks.

“Yeah, right here.” He sets down the stack of mail and then holds out the black invitation. “Look at this.”

Trevor quickly takes it in, and shock registers over his face. “Oh. Wow. Are you gonna go? How do you feel?”

“I don’t know,” Alex admits. “I always thought having one of my books turned into a movie would be incredible, but now I’m… scared.”

“Scared to see it… or scared to see Liam?”

“Both.”

“Did you get a plus-one?”

“Hmm… it doesn’t say on the envelope…”

“I mean, I’d go with you for moral support,” Trevor says, “but I don’t think that’ll help the Liam situation much.”

“I don’t think Liam feels any better toward me than he does toward you.”

“Well, you don’t have to go.” Trevor places a hand on his husband’s arm. “But if you want to, I support you, obviously.”

“Thanks.” Alex lets out a heavy sigh. “If this were you, I’d tell you to do whatever’s best for you — but I really have no idea what that is.”

—–

Rosie sits on the witness stand, gazing out over the courtroom. She sees her boss, Brent, and the other officers who responded to the scene at Paula’s house. She sees the Fishers, whom she has come to know and like, and she sees Travis, too. His eyes finally fix upon her, in a way that they wouldn’t out in the parking lot. As painful as this is, and as much as she fears what might come afterward, she knows that she has to do this. She is doing the right thing, she assures herself.

When she told Brent out in the hallway that she had a story to tell that might upset him, she knew that she could be risking her career. But there is no other choice. She can’t allow this to go on.

The D.A.’s questions are standard, just variations of what she asked Travis — where the phone was, whether Paula could have seen what was happening, all things designed to make it seem that Paula left the boundaries of her approved house arrest area unnecessarily. It is when the defense steps up to question her that Rosie really has to steel herself. This is it.

“Officer Jimenez,” Conrad says, “who do you believe that man in the mask was?”

“I think he works for a man named Diego Barrera,” she says. Even speaking the name in public sends a chill down her spine. “Diego is, or at least was, a drug dealer.”

“Is this Diego Barrera someone you’ve encountered through your work?”

Rosie shakes her head, though it takes another moment to get the answer out. “No… I know him personally. Diego and I — we dated for a while when I was younger. Before I was a police officer. I haven’t seen or spoken to him in years.”

She looks out again and notes the concern etched into Brent’s face. The lines in his forehead and around his eyes are deeper than usual.

“What makes you think this man worked for Diego Barrera?” Conrad asks.

“I’ve been afraid of this for years,” Rosie explains. “When Diego and I were dating… I knew what he did for work. What he was involved in. It’s not that I didn’t care, but I was able to excuse it somehow. I was young and dumb, I guess. Blinded because I thought I was in love.” She sighs. “It sounds crazy now.”

“Objection,” Audrey Tam says, sounding almost bored. “Relevance.”

Conrad makes eye contact with Rosie, silently asking for help.His usual composure seems to have taken a hit. She nods encouragingly, as if to tell him this is all going to tie together.

“The witness is attempting to establish why this man was at Paula Fisher’s home and what kind of danger he posed,” Conrad tells the judge. “That seems very relevant to me.”

“I’ll allow it,” the judge says. “But keep it moving.”

“Officer Jimenez, please continue,” Conrad says. “What makes you believe that this masked man was associated with Diego Barrera?”

“One day, back then, Diego asked if he could hide a package at my house. I knew it was drugs, without him even saying so. I said yes.” She swallows hard, feeling emotion brimming within her. “I still lived with my parents at this point. I guess I thought Diego would think I was lame, or– he had this way of making you do things you knew you shouldn’t. Like it was impossible to say no.”

“So you accepted the package.”

“Yeah. I kind of thought he meant, like, a box. It was a large container. We snuck it into my room and put it in the closet. Diego said goodbye and told me he’d see me in a few days. He had to go out of town.”

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know. I still don’t know.”

“And what happened with that package?”

Rosie sees Travis staring intently at her. She can tell that he is upset, but she also knows that stopping now won’t make that go away. She looks at Paula and feels so awful for the frightened woman, sitting there with her fate on the line, after all that she has already been through.

“Two days later, there was a break-in at our house,” Rosie explains. Her throat tightens. “I had never seen these people before. Two men and a woman. They had guns. They came in, and they demanded to know where the package was. I was upstairs at first — I heard my father downstairs arguing with someone, and I came down and saw the people with guns.”

She pauses, as tears well in her eyes. She has spent so long trying not to think about that day, pointlessly — because, in truth, it is all she thinks about, every moment of every day, even if she is able to pretend otherwise for short spells.

“What happened next?” Conrad prompts her.

“I asked if they knew Diego. I thought I might be able to — to defuse it. But that made them even angrier. They demanded to know where the package was. I tried to lie and said I didn’t know anything about a package. One of the guys, he hit me and knocked me down. My dad freaked out, and he grabbed the phone and tried to call 911. I don’t even–”

She has to stop, as the combination of words and images threatens to overwhelm her. It has been so long since she spoke of this to anyone, let alone a packed room. She feels every eyeball cutting into her.

“There was a gunshot,” she says. “I don’t know who fired, or why they did it so fast, but… the next thing I knew, my dad was lying there, covered in blood, screaming…”

“These people shot your father?” Conrad asks.

“Yeah.” She can still see it all so clearly: her proud, hardworking father, crumpled on the floor, spatters of blood so out-of-place in their simple home. She can still hear his anguished yelp and groans, as well as her own scream.

“They found the package,” she says, now openly crying. “They found it and took it, and I didn’t even care. I just wanted to call 911. By the time they got there, it was…” The tears choke her words, pressing them down, and she has to force her way past the onslaught. “It was too late. My dad was dead.”

A somber hush has overtaken the courtroom. Mouths flap open, and eyes are wide. Rosie sees the emotion in Travis’s face, clear as day.

“It was my fault,” she says. “It was my fault for being with Diego, for agreeing to hold the package, for trying to lie to those people. I’m the reason my father was shot and killed. It’s all my fault.”

“And you believe the man who came to Paula Fisher’s home with a gun, asking for you, had something to do with Diego Barrera or the people who killed your father?” Conrad asks.

“I’m sure of it,” Rosie says. “Please don’t punish Mrs. Fisher for my mistakes. Please.”

END OF EPISODE 919

How will Travis react to Rosie now that the truth is out?
Will Rosie’s story be able to save Paula?
Should Alex attend the movie premiere?
Why is Sonja planning to visit Loretta Ragan?
Discuss it all in the comments below!

 

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