Previously…
– Before Natalie’s wedding, Diane caught her father, Henry, throwing up. He insisted it was nothing and swore her to secrecy.
– Alex received an invitation to the premiere of the movie adaptation of his novel, written by Liam.
– Caleb went to a rave with a girl from school, Jasmine, who doesn’t hang out with his usual crowd of jocks and popular kids.
– The D.A. threatened to go after Rosie for obstruction of justice (for lying about the circumstances of her father’s death) if Rosie didn’t help lead authorities to her drug-dealing ex, Diego Barrera.

When Rosie Jimenez steps up to the open office door, she sees Brent Taylor at the window, tugging on the cord to raise the plastic blinds. The morning haze from the bay has begun to recede, giving way to a promising hint of sunlight. She watches Brent gazing out appreciatively into the blue; both of them know that, as lovely as King’s Bay might be today, it is only a matter of time before the sunshine gives way to months of gray and rain.

Rosie clears her throat and says, “You wanted to see me?”

Brent turns, surprised at the sudden sound, but then fixes a pleasant smile on his face. The expression helps to put Rosie at ease. When she received word that the commander was asking for her, she had a good idea of what it might be about — but she feared that it could be bad news.

“Thanks for coming in,” Brent says as he returns to his desk. He claps his hands on the top of his leather chair.

The younger officer steps uncertainly into the office and plants on the side of the desk opposite him. “Did something happen with the Barrera case?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He pauses, as if contemplating his next words, and the shiver of nervousness shoots through her again.

“The detectives we have on Jesse haven’t turned up much,” Brent explains. “Nothing, really. He goes to work at the restaurant, he drops off leftovers at the soup kitchen, he goes to his soccer league, he goes to some bar on the north side, he goes home. Really no red flags.”

“That doesn’t mean he isn’t in contact with Diego.”

“I know. But all the digging hasn’t turned up any clear connection. And now the D.A. is breathing down my neck.”

Rosie lets out a sigh as she plants her hands on her hips. “We can’t make something magically materialize. She gets that, right?”

“She’s impatient, that’s all,” Brent says. “She thought she had this major lead, and it hasn’t amounted to much.”

“I know Jesse must’ve tipped off Diego about Travis and me, but that doesn’t mean he’s gonna lead us to the guy.”

“It’s just crazy how far off-the-grid Diego seems to be. Like he really doesn’t want to be found. And if that’s the case…”

“Then he’s definitely still dealing,” she finishes for him. “Or has people dealing for him.”

Brent holds up his index finger. “And that is exactly what has Audrey Tam foaming at the mouth. She’s sure there’s something big here.” 

“If I could tail Jesse myself, I would. Maybe I’d see something that no one else would notice, just because I know him. But I can’t do that.”

“It’s too risky. What I was going to ask is if you’d take a look at the files.”

“Yes! Give me. Seriously. I didn’t want to overstep my bounds, but–”

“No, please.” He picks up a thick file folder from the desk and hands it over to her. “There are reports, surveillance photos, logs of his phone activity. Maybe something will jump out at you.”

“I hope so,” Rosie muses as she flips open the folder and quickly scans the bounty of information inside. “Because if we don’t have something to give Tam, I’m worried she’s gonna come for my badge.”

Brent’s tight-lipped nod only serves to confirm her fear.

—–

Danielle Taylor sits in a chair on the back deck, gazing out at the expansive green lawn of her sister-in-law’s yard, and the wooded area just beyond the fence, as she strums her guitar. She woke up this morning with the ghost of a new song in her head, and she has spent the past few hours trying to lure it out into the open. When she hears the glass door that connects the deck to the kitchen sliding open, she stops playing.

“I’m going out,” Caleb Taylor says before his head even appears through the opening.

“Where are you going?” Danielle asks, careful to get the question out before he vanishes entirely. She swivels in her chair and sees her teenage nephew in a red t-shirt and black shorts, with a black cap pulled down over his messy, dark hair.

“Just meeting up with some friends.”

Danielle’s fingers linger over the strings of her guitar. “Do these friends have names?”

Caleb lets out a typical teenage groan, much louder and more put-upon than is necessary for such a simple question.

“You know, the guys from the team. Dustin, Eric, Jeff…”

“See? That wasn’t so hard. Just be home by 6, please. Your mom wants everyone at the same table tonight.”

“Okay,” he says with an outsized amount of relief.

“Have fun,” Danielle tells him. But as she turns her attention back to the guarantee, she feels him continuing to stand at the open door.

“Are you writing new stuff?” Caleb asks.

She looks up again. “Trying to. I was on a roll for a while, and now it’s back to normal. Turns out it isn’t always magic.”

Caleb laughs. “Well, it’s pretty cool hearing your song with DJ Khaled. It came on a Spotify playlist when we were at Dustin’s pool the other day, and everyone thought it was sick that that was my aunt.”

“It’s still pretty crazy to me. When I made that album, I barely even expected anyone to hear it, let alone have someone sample it on a rap song.”

“It’s awesome.” He kicks the toe of his Nike sneaker against the doorframe, and Danielle can feel the spirit of her younger, less self-conscious nephew fading back inside this teenager. She reminds herself to be grateful for whatever moments she gets with him, though.

“Guess I’m gonna go,” he says. “See you later.”

“I’ll see you for dinner.”

The glass door slides closed again, and Danielle looks out over the backyard and the thick cluster of trees once more. The melody that has been haunting her all morning returns to her head — but it is suddenly clearer, so clear that she knows instinctively how to play it. With a smile, she does just that, marveling yet again at the utter randomness of inspiration.

“We’ll talk to this woman and find out what she’d do differently with her next robot, right after this break.”

The familiar KBAY bumper music sounds, and Diane Bishop slides away from her hanging microphone and pulls off her headphones. Red digits on a large wall timer count down the time until the morning show returns from commercial.

“Should be an easy final segment,” her cohost, Luke Berman, comments as he removes his own headphones.

“As long as this woman isn’t batshit crazy, which… considering that there’s a robot involved, who knows?”

Luke chuckles, as Diane quickly leaves her seat and exits the soundproof recording booth. Seated in the main area of the studio — a space that is never not cramped, no matter what adjustments are made to it — are her parents, each with a cup of coffee in hand and a set of headphones over their ears. 

“I can’t say enough how terrific you are at this,” Henry Bishop says. The pleased expression on his face, despite the gray pallor of his skin and his odd lethargy, is so genuine that Diane cannot help but grin back to him.

“That cohost of yours is very handsome,” Claudia says. “Have you ever thought about getting together with him?”

Diane’s head snaps back toward the booth, just to be certain that Luke has not been replaced by a Hemsworth brother. But no, there he is, laughing at something on his cell phone.

“Luke?” she says. “For one thing, he’s married–”

“That’s hardly stopped you before.”

“Claudia,” Henry admonishes his wife through gritted teeth.

Diane rolls her eyes. “And for another, he’s an idiot.”

Her mother shrugs. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“You know,” Diane says, quickly glancing around to be sure no one is listening, “I try to have one nice morning–”

“It’s been a great morning,” Henry interrupts, his voice now aggressively level. “It’s wonderful seeing you at work like this. We’re very proud of you.”

“It is fairly impressive,” Claudia admits. “There was a time when we were worried you wouldn’t get back on your feet, and now…” She gestures at the busy studio around them. “I only hope that your sister will be able to do the same.”

A hot ball of rage flares inside Diane’s chest, but before she can commence a rant, Henry cuts her off with that same calm tone.

“Natalie is going to be just fine,” he says. “We’ll see to it. We aren’t leaving town until we get her set up someplace to live with the kids.”

“God forbid she had to clean up her own mess,” Diane mutters.

“What was that?” Claudia questions.

Diane looks to the red digits on the wall. “I need to get back in there for the last segment.”

She darts back to the booth.

“I don’t know why we had to sit here for the entire show,” Claudia says under her breath, leaning toward Henry so that he can hear her. “We could’ve just as easily listened to it on the balcony of our hotel suite.”

“Because we want to show Diane that we support her,” he responds, though the end of the sentence flags as he instinctively touches a hand to his stomach.

Inside the small recording booth, Diane puts her headphones back on.

“Nice of your parents to come by and watch the show,” Luke says.

She covers her microphone. “It’ll be even nicer if I manage to go the entire time without killing them.”

The producer begins counting down in their ears, and Diane tracks the count with the timer on the wall. Soon, the KBAY music plays again, and Luke jumps right in to introduce their next guest.

Diane does everything she can to stay focused, but she cannot help noticing the way that Henry flags down one of the radio station staffers — a young, thin woman with very short hair and a black tank top — and whispers a question to her. A moment later, he rises from his seat, his hand on his stomach.

“Where are you going?” Claudia asks him nervously. “If you leave me here–”

“I just need to use the restroom,” Henry says, barely even finishing the statement before he lurches toward the back hallway, following the staffer’s lead.

Diane cannot hear the exchange, but she can see clearly how green her father has turned and how stiff his movements are.

—–

Alex Marshall sits cross-legged on the hardwood floor of his bungalow’s living room. A few feet away, his son pushes a plastic school bus back and forth, making “Vroom-vroom” noises as if revving up the bus for a big jump. Alex startles when he hears the door to one of the back bedrooms open and footsteps come down the hall.

“All done with your call?” he asks Trevor Brooks.

“For now.” Trevor exhales heavily as he finishes tucking his pale blue shirt into his slim-cut jeans. “If I had to guess, I’d say we’re going to have the exact same conversation at least four times in the office today.”

“That sounds thrilling,” Alex says as he rises to his feet.

“The fun never stops.”

Alex crosses to give his husband a kiss, and they stand together quietly, watching their son crash his bus into the toy bin and various other items.

“Maybe I’ll just stay home and do that with Chase today,” Trevor says.

“I think we’d both like that,” Alex tells him, allowing his hand to trail down Trevor’s chest. “Speaking of…”

Trevor turns to him, concern clear on his face. “What?”

“I’m just wondering… how your work schedule looks the next few weeks.”

“Why?” Trevor furrows his brow. “What’s up? You’re being weird.”

“I’m not being weird.”

“You’re totally being weird.”

Alex holds onto his resistance for a moment longer and then lets his shoulders drop. “Okay, fine. There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Oh, god. You didn’t tell Natalie she could move in with us, did you?”

“No!”

“Then I can handle whatever it is,” Trevor says, nevertheless using a hand to steady himself on Alex’s shoulder.

“I was wondering if you could work from home for a day or two,” Alex starts, “or if we could call your dad or Don and Helen to help out.”

“Why? Do you have meetings?”

Alex winces and then spits it out: “I think I should go to the movie premiere in L.A.”

“Oh.” Trevor takes a step backward, as if this information has struck him and he needs to catch his balance.

“Are you okay with that?”

“Of course I am. It’s a movie based on your book. You should be there.” 

“Okay. Thanks. I know it’ll be weird, but…”

“You shouldn’t let Liam have any more power over you,” Trevor says. “Especially not where your work is concerned. This is big, Alex.”

“Right? And if they’d given me a plus-one, I’d be bringing you along. Having some arm candy would really help.”

Trevor smirks. “So that’s all I am to you? Arm candy?”

“Yep. That’s really it.”

Trevor wraps both arms around Alex, trapping him and pulling him closer.

“I wish I could go,” Trevor says, “but there’s a pretty good chance I’d try to strangle Liam…”

“All I want to do is get through this, see how the movie turned out, and make my peace with the whole thing.”

“Then that’s what I want for you.”

The two men share another kiss.

“It really is rude of them not to allow me any arm candy,” Alex says through a laugh as they continue to hold one another.

—–

Rosie takes the file from Brent’s office and finds an empty desk in the overcrowded bullpen area of the station. She unclips her radio from her belt and sets it on the desk, and then she sits down to review the file.

It is just as Brent explained: a lot of information, all of which amounts to nothing. Jesse’s life appears to be incredibly mundane. She flips through the surveillance photos, but even his outings to the bar seem very routine. There are a few snaps of him talking to different women, but nothing about any of it sets off any alarm bells that he might be dealing — or doing anything related to Diego Barrera’s operation. From the notes, it doesn’t appear that he has many visitors to his studio apartment, either.

There are no red flags in his phone records, either, though she doesn’t think that he would be repeatedly calling or texting Diego. They’re too smart for that.

She rests her head in her palms as her mind spins. This would be so much easier if she could simply swipe his phone and find the contact info for Diego, however he might have it coded. Short of knocking him out herself, though, she doesn’t know how she could do that — especially not without alerting him and Diego to her mission.

She takes a few deep breaths and attempts to make her hazy brain refocus on the file. There has to be something…

And that’s when it hits her. It might not be anything, but you never know.

Quickly she takes out her own phone and Googles something. The phone number is right there. She nearly dials it, then stops. There is something she should try first, to keep this as private as possible.

Her finger hovers over the name in her contact list as she tries to steel herself for this conversation.

—–

A song by Florence and the Machine, equal parts mournful and rousing, plays throughout Cassie’s Coffee House. Caleb sprawls on a well-worn blue sofa and drinks his iced coffee. When Jasmine Knight finishes adding sweetener to her own drink, she makes her way through the busy café to join him.

“It’s nice to be back in civilization,” Jasmine says, giving an appreciative look around as she seats herself on the sofa.

“A lakehouse in Michigan sounds pretty chill,” Caleb says.

“Maybe. For a few days. But my parents make us spend weeks there every summer. There’s not a ton to do, and my cousins are all way older or way younger.”

“You seemed pretty bored when we were FaceTiming.”

“Beyond.” She takes a loud slurp of her iced coffee through the straw. “But it’s good to be back. I missed you.”

Caleb grins as Jasmine touches his knee.

“I missed you, too,” he says.

“What’s going on with your family? That wedding sounds like a total shitshow.”

“You have no idea. It was, like, reality TV levels of nuts.”

“That lady hooked up with your cousin and your uncle? That’s nasty.”

He shakes his head. “It’s so crazy. And they threw this whole wedding, and we didn’t even get to have the reception.”

“No cake?”

“I never even saw the cake,” Caleb says as he props himself up on his side with one elbow.

She widens her eyes. “That’s criminal.”

They smile at one another, an invisible electricity passing between them.

“So there’s another party this weekend,” she says. “Like the last one I took you to.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Kind of a last hurrah before school starts up again. Are you in?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Sure. Why not? Sounds fun.”

“Cool.” She touches his hand. “Are you still gonna hang out with me when school starts and you’re busy with soccer and stuff?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Now it is her turn to shrug. “Just how it goes sometimes.”

“That’s not how it’s gonna go this time,” Caleb says as he gives her hand a squeeze.

—–

Diane walks her parents out to their rental car and then returns to the studio to finish up some work and collect her things. She is slinging her purse over her shoulder when she sees the production staffer from earlier move through the main room of the studio. Hastily Diane exits the recording booth.

“Hey,” she calls out, enough to get the younger woman’s attention. “Question for you.”

“What can I do for you, Ms. Bishop?”

“Please. Call me Diane.” She sticks out a hand, and the staffer shakes it with a deceptively strong grip. “What’s your name?”

“Jaq. Er, Jacqueline, but I usually go by Jaq.”

“Nice to meet you. You haven’t been working here long, have you?”

“Just a few weeks.”

“Well, welcome,” Diane says. “That couple you were helping before–”

“Your parents, right?” Jaq’s eyebrows lift suddenly. “Is everything okay? They didn’t say–”

Diane holds up a palm. “Everything’s fine. Thanks for helping them. I’m just wondering something…” She taps the long, pink nail of her index finger against her chin. “What did my father say to you before he went running out of the room right before the last segment?”

Jaq’s face twists up with confusion. “He asked where the restroom was.”

“That’s all?”

“Yeah, I mean, he said he wasn’t feeling well.”

“This is going to sound gross,” Diane says, attempting to be delicate, “but when he went in there, did he…”

“He threw up,” Jaq says with a grimace. “He barely made it into the bathroom before it happened. I could hear through the door.”

“Thank you.”

“He really didn’t look good.”

“That’s what I noticed, too. Thanks. Sorry for putting you on the spot about a stranger’s bathroom activities.”

Jaq lets out a short laugh. “It’s fine. My ex — she loved toilet humor. Not much can faze me.”

“That’s a good trait to have,” Diane says. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks again.”

“Bye, Ms. Bishop– er, Diane.”

Diane offers her a final wave and makes her way out of the studio. The late morning sun has begun to shine overhead, casting its warmth over King’s Bay. She walks the short distance to her prime parking spot and gets into her car.

“Okay, Dad,” she says as she pushes a button to start the engine. “Time to figure out what’s really going on with you.”

END OF EPISODE 940

Should Diane stay out of her father’s business?
Is Rosie about to do something foolish in her quest?
Will Alex get the closure he needs at the premiere?
Discuss it all in the comments below!

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