Previously...

Stormy confronted Brett about the fifty thousand dollars he'd taken from a Sunset Studios account.  Later, Brett vowed to find ammuntion to discredit Stormy and get him permanently out of the business. After realizing the hurt it would inflict on Ethan, Janet returned and asked Will for her manuscript back. Will laughed and told her to get lost.  Heather and Miranda conspired to find out what Will was hiding in his mansion.  James and Alex learned that Senator Timothy Fallmont was planning an unjunction against their pipeline in Colorado. Brooke, meanwhile, grew hurt that James seemed to have forgotten about Michael and was now concentrating on business again. James threw a dinner party at the mansion and invited Timothy to discuss the pipeline. When he arrived with his wife on his arm, Stormy realized his wife was Samantha.

Episode 41

"The Fallmonts" Part 2

Miranda and Heather crept down the dark tunnel until they came to the staircase leading to Will Thomerson’s parlor room.  Miranda forced the door open and they emptied out into the house, glancing around quickly to make sure no one was around.

“I don’t know about this,” Heather said as they made their way into the room.  “What if he comes home?  We might not be so lucky this time.”

“Shhh,” Miranda said and glared at her.  “We have to do this.  Now let’s go.  I say we check the upstairs rooms first.”

Reluctantly, Heather followed her to the doors leading into the entryway.  Miranda pulled a penlight from her pocket and shined it across the room as they went.   They passed by Will’s desk and Miranda aimed the light onto the surface.  She stopped in her tracks and picked up a piece of paper that caught her eye.

“Wait a minute,” she whispered, pulling Heather back.  “I think I found something.”

“What is it?” Heather asked, looking over her shoulder at the paper.

“Certificate of live birth,” Miranda said, scrolling the light over the heading on the official looking document.  “Oh my God.”

Just then, the lights came on and they both screamed in terror.  Miranda dropped the certificate and backed up, bumping into Heather as Will stood before them, blocking their path to the door.

Brooke left the house and went for a drive, hoping that no one would even notice she was gone.  James was so involved with work that he probably wouldn’t give her another thought for the rest of the night.  He certainly wasn’t concerned with finding their son so why should she be any different?

Before she knew it, she found herself driving to Ethan’s house in the Valley.  She resisted at first, circling the block and wondering if it was a good idea that she go to him.  In the past, it always ended in confusing matters more.  But now Ethan seemed to be the only one who understood how she felt.  He had a special bond with Michael, even if she had consistently kept the truth from him.  Maybe that was why he understood.   Deep down he knew the truth.  That he was her baby’s father. 

After deciding she would just stop by for a minute, she parked her car in his driveway and walked up to the porch, the sound of crickets chirping all around her.  Before she reached her hand out to knock, she peered inside and caught a glimpse of Ethan sitting on the sofa in an embrace with Janet.

They were undressed, covered by a blanket as they kissed and laughed happily and carefree.  She hadn’t seen Ethan look so happy in a long time, she realized.  Not since they were together in the Caribbean almost a year ago.  To her surprise, she felt a pang of jealousy and her eyes began to tear up.  Knowing that she had no right to feel the way she did, she fought to control herself.  She was married to James and she’d made her choice.  If Ethan wanted to be with another woman he had every right to do so.

Backing up, she started down the driveway to her car and slowly opened the door.  A quick pause while she looked back at the house, the glow of flickering candles evident through the windows.   Coming there was a mistake, she decided.    Why did she stop anyway?  Why didn’t she keep driving and resist her compulsion to see Ethan?

Quickly, she got back into her car and sped off down the road, fighting back the tears that threatened her eyes. 

Will stared down at Miranda and Heather, fuming at the sight of the two young women invading his home.  He glanced at the birth certificate that fell to the floor, quickly snapping it up and placing it safely in his pocket.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his eyes darting around the room.

Miranda looked at Heather, petrified of what was going to happen next.  She hadn’t expected to get caught, and even if they did, she had hoped she’d be able to come up with something to save them.

“I asked what you’re doing here!” Will shouted, closing the door of the parlor so they couldn’t leave.  “What gives you the right to break into someone’s home?  How did you get in here anyway?”

Miranda quickly covered for them.  “I picked the lock,” she said, not wanting to give away the fact that they’d found the staircase leading to the underground tunnel.

“How resourceful,” Will said and backed them into the room.  “James Blackthorne’s daughter a cat burglar.  This should make for some interesting front page headlines.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Heather said and pushed her way past Miranda.  “And you know damn well what we’re doing here.”

“Why don’t you indulge me.”

Glaring wildly at him, Heather felt herself growing angrier by the second.  The very thought that she could ever have been intimate with him made her skin crawl.   “I want that tape,” she said.  She decided to sacrifice her own secret in order to keep him in the dark about their suspicions about the kidnapping. 

“The tape?” Will asked with a sickly smile.   “What tape would that be, Heather?”

“You know damn well what tape,” she shot back, moving forward.  “The tape that makes me lie awake at night in a cold sweat!  The tape that makes me want to shower eight times a day so I can get the feeling of those disgusting men off of me!  The tape that you set up to get back at me for stealing a few movie deals from you, you sick son of a bitch!”

Miranda stared wide-eyed at Heather, slowly realizing why it was so important for her to get in that house the other night.  She didn’t know all the details, but she knew all she needed to.  Whatever Will had done to her, it was something unspeakably awful.

“Take it easy,” Will said, slightly unnerved by the wild rage in Heather’s eyes.  “I consider that tape to be payment for what you and James Blackthorne stole from me.”

Heather balled her fists together and lunged toward him.  “God, you’re such a disgusting pervert!” she screamed, battering him relentlessly with her fists.  “How could you have done that to me?  You set me up you fu-“

“Heather, stop!” Miranda pleaded, trying desperately to pull her off of Will.  “It’s okay!”

She withdrew from her attack, her hair flipped chaotically over her face.  “No, it’s not okay,” she said, breathing heavily.  “Not until this monster pays for what he did to me.”

“What I did to you?” Will asked, walking over to his desk and pulling a piece of paper from the top drawer.  “But you did it to yourself, Heather dear.  I have the consent form with your signature on it.”

“You forged that!” Heather screamed.  “I never consented to anything!”

“Actually you did.  You just didn’t know what you were signing.  But fortunately that excuse won’t hold up in a court of law, so I urge you to think before you go making any accusations that you can’t back up.”

Heather’s eyes bore into his, flashes of contempt stabbing into him like daggers.  “I could kill you for this,” she said.  “I swear to God someone’s going to make you pay.”

Grinning smugly, Will casually opened the doors to the parlor and stood clear of the doorway.  “On the contrary.  It’s my turn to make all of you pay.  Every last one of you.”

Miranda didn’t waste any time in taking Heather’s hand and leading her out to the front door in the entryway.  She led her outside and left Will standing behind, a satisfied grin on his face.

Stormy spent the entire five course meal staring across the table at Samantha, sitting comfortably close to Timothy who fawned over her the entire evening.  He couldn’t fathom for a second the odds that the husband she was so unhappy with was Senator Fallmont, the very man who was proposing an injunction against his mother and father’s pipeline. 

Now she was here, in his house, sitting across the table from him and no one knew that they’d been quite well acquainted since the previous summer.  And if the truth did get out, he could only imagine the devastating affects it would have on Blackthorne-Reynolds.   

“I understand your concerns, Senator Fallmont,” James said as they all retired into the library for drinks.  “But if you’ll just let us propose another course of action, I’m sure we can come up with a compromise.”

Timothy shook his head, his arm around Samantha as they followed Jack and Adrienne into the room.   “I’m not sure that there is a compromise,” he attested.  “That land you want to destroy while drilling for natural gas has been environmentally protected for decades.  I’m concerned about the toxic runoff that could affect wildlife, plant life, and water reservoirs that exist mere miles from the site.  The affects could be disasterous.”

That land does belong to us,” Alex quipped, lighting a cigarette and sitting down next to Adrienne.   “When my uncle left it to me he said nothing about environmental protection.”

“It’s possible that he didn’t know,” Timothy said.  “Either way, it’s an issue that many people are concerned about.  Since you proposed the pipeline, there’s been a lot of talk in Washington.”

“You mean talk that you started because you’re angling for the U.S. Senate, isn’t that right?” Stormy asked, glaring angrily at him.  He couldn’t stand the way the man sat there, pawing at Samantha like she was a possession.  It was immediately obvious why she was so unhappy with him.  Men like Timothy Fallmont were overbearing and intolerable.

Timothy met his gaze with one equally as challenging.  “This injunction has nothing to do with my future political aspirations.”

“Oh really?” Stormy asked, fed up with the way he spun facts to suit himself.  “So it’s just a coincidence that this injunction comes up a few months before the primaries?  Come on, who do you think you’re kidding?”

“Stormy, Senator Fallmont is here as our guest,” James cautioned his son.

“No, it’s okay, Mr. Blackthorne,” Timothy interrupted.  “Your son has a valid concern.  Albeit slightly inflammatory.  I would hate to hear that the voters thought I was grandstanding just because the election was coming up.  I firmly intend to make it clear that my main concern is the environment.”

Just then, Brooke entered the room and smiled apologetically to the guests.  “I’m sorry I missed dinner,” she said, walking over to James and putting her arm around him.

“Darling, Leilani said you’d left the house,” James said.  “Where were you?”

She grew distant and felt all eyes on her.  “I had to pick up a prescription from the pharmacy,” she lied.  “I guess it took longer than I expected.”

James kissed her on the cheek and proceeded to introduce her to Timothy and Samantha.    “Would you excuse us for just a minute?” he then asked.

They left the room and walked out into the entryway where James put his arms around his wife and held her close.  “Darling, are you sure you’re all right?” he asked.  “I know this is all hard for you to take in.  I promise after tonight business will be taken care of for a while.  I just need to come to some kind of agreement with Senator Fallmont.”

Brooke nodded with a vague smile.  All she could manage to think of was Ethan and the fact that he was seemingly so happy with Janet back at his house.  Not that he didn’t deserve happiness, but it was a little disheartening to see that life was going on for him after everything they’d been though. 

Back in the library, Timothy was embroiled in a deep conversation with Jack and Adrienne.  Brett was chatting with Alex, dodging her usual jabs at his shady past and his place in her daughter’s life.  Stormy walked across the room where Samantha fixed her and Timothy a drink at the bar.

“Don’t say it,” she said, barely looking up at him so as not to attract attention.  “I know what it must look like.”

“Oh really?” he asked in a low whisper.  “Then tell me because I sure as hell don’t know what’s going on.  Why didn’t you tell me your husband was Timothy Fallmont?”

“I told you he was a powerful man,” Samantha claimed, slowly stirring their drinks and letting the ice clink against the crystal tumblers.  “I was just as shocked as you were when we showed up here tonight.  He told me he had to discuss business with someone in L.A. and that he wanted me to go along.  How shocked was I when we pulled up into the driveway of your father’s house?”

Stormy ran his fingers through his hair and stepped closer to her, checking over his shoulder every now and then to see if Timothy noticed them talking.  “I thought you said he was so cold and unloving,” he whispered.  “He hasn’t been able to keep his hands off you all night.  Do you know what that’s doing to me?”

“He’s my husband,” Samantha spat.  “He’s putting on a show for your family.  Believe me, he’s nothing like this at home.  He barely acknowledges me when we’re alone.  We have separate bedrooms, Stormy.  It’s awful.”

Across the room, Brett watched their silent exchange in wonderment.  He couldn’t hear their low whispers but it was clear that this wasn’t the first time Stormy had met the senator’s lovely wife.

Determined to have a chance to talk to Samantha in depth later, Stormy poured himself a glass of vodka and leaned in close to her ear.  “Meet me down the hall in the conservatory in ten minutes,” he said.  “We can talk more there.”

“Stormy, no,” she held firmly.  “It’s not safe.”

“Samantha, I think that we should-“

His thought was interrupted when Timothy approached from behind and kissed Samantha tenderly on the cheek.  “How are those drinks coming, Sweetheart?” he asked, taking his scotch from her and nodding politely at Stormy.  “Well, I certainly have to hand it to you, Stormy.  I underestimated you.”

“How so?”

“I thought you were going to be a snotty know-it-all Hollywood kid who had no interests beyond his trust fund and the latest party,” Timothy said with a cocky smile.  “I was surprised by what you said back there.  Do you follow politics much?”

Stormy glared at him and let his eyes drift past Samantha.  “I know enough to know an opportunist when I see one,” he said before returning to the sitting area.

Samantha smiled uneasily at her husband and led him back to their seats where Brooke and James had just rejoined the group.

Loud music emanated from the walls of Jordan’s house in Beverly Hills.  A group of valet’s stationed in the front drive struggled to keep up with the onslaught of expensive cars coming and going throughout the night.

Inside, the house was packed.  Celebrities from every reach of Hollywood filled the downstairs rooms, sipping champagne and cocktails as they mingled with peers and the occasional Hollywood hopeful.  All the great directors were there, and some of the not so great.  Buxom blond actresses and studly actors frolicked about, pausing to offer a generous smile to their host as he made his way from room to room.

“Great party, Jordan,” said Victor Distefano, the playboy Italian actor.

“You’ve got to do this more often,” agreed Eric Autumn, the boy-wonder director and closet homosexual.

“Single life agrees with you,” said a leggy burnette who didn't know it but was being blacklisted at that very moment by a scorned producer. 

The praise came fast and furious.  Jordan couldn’t help but agree with them.  Leaving Alex was the best thing he could have done.  Her moving out of his Beverly Hills mansion was the next best thing.  Now he was free to throw the lavish parties that he was accustomed to before he wasted a year of his life on her.  And of course the female attention he received didn’t hurt either.

Making his way to the Jacuzzi out on the congested terrace, he snatched a drink from a passing waiter and quickly downed it in one gulp.   His eyes traveled to the hot tub where B.J. Summers was topless, bouncing merrily in Philip Whitacre’s lap.  He smiled and shook his head with a chuckle, not a bit surprised by the lovely young actress’s lack of inhibition and modesty.  Nor was he surprised by Philip’s.

“Enjoying yourself?” Jordan asked as he perched on the ledge of the hot tub and looked down at the compromising position they were in.

Philip grinned and managed a resounding yes.  “And I thought his would be a dull industry party.”

“You should have been around a few years back.  Parties like this went on every night here,” Jordan confided, barley able to take his eyes off of B.J. and her endowed presence.  “So Philip, I hear you’re doing okay in the business.  Everyone’s got to start somewhere.  I actually did a few adult films back in my twenties, long before I made it as a director or a producer.”

“Nice,” Philip said, more interested in B.J. than he was in the small talk.  Luckily he was good at multi-tasking.  “I gotta ask you, man.  Aren’t you sore at me?  I mean, you did walk in on me and your wife in bed together last summer.”

Jordan shrugged, finding himself having to yell over the loud roar of the crowd and the moans of excitement coming from B.J.  “Well, we weren’t married then.  And we’re about to be not married again soon.  I like to leave the past in the past.”

“Does that mean Ms. Reynolds is available?” Philip asked with a grin, squinting and groaning as B.J. bounced slow and rhythmically on top of him.  “She’s a fox.”

The insinuation got to Jordan, as much as he hated to admit it.  The thought of Alex with another man drove him crazy.  “It doesn’t look like you have much trouble finding women your own age.”

“True,” Philip said.  “Some of the girls in the films I do are hot.  Like this one girl a few weeks ago.  She was all messed up on Quaaludes or something.  Me and another guy went at her all night.  I saw some of the footage.  It looked pretty good.”

Jordan managed an unenthusiastic chuckle.  Maybe he was just getting old but it seemed like the industry had gotten a little too shady for his tastes.  He turned just as the tall brunette actress approached and straddled him, kissing him hard and deep.

Heather trembled from head to toe as Miranda led her back into the mansion through the back door in the kitchen.  She’d never seen her stepsister so upset and exhibit such rage toward anyone in her life, not even when she learned of Stormy’s affair last year.   It was obvious she was shaken and had been keeping a horrible secret inside for too long.

“Sit down,” Miranda said, pulling a chair out from the kitchen table.  She went to the water and retrieved a bottle of water which she poured hastily into a glass.   “Here, drink some of this.  Heather, are you okay?”

Heather took the glass and sipped the cold liquid, her hands trembling so much that she nearly dropped it in her lap.   “I don’t know,” she said, looking around as if confused by her surroundings.   “What happened?”

Frowning, Miranda looked into her eyes.  “You don’t remember?  Heather, we just were at Will’s house.  You attacked him.  You were screaming at him.  I’ve never seen you like that before.”

She shook her head.  “I don’t remember.  I must have blacked out or something.”

Miranda decided she must have been in such a rage that she erased the unpleasant scene from her mind.  “But Heather, what happened with Will before tonight?  What did he do to you?”    

“I was seeing him…” she explained slowly.  “…romantically….so I could steal movie scripts from him for Sunset Studios.  Brett said that if I did it he would put me in a starring role in a movie.”  She paused and looked at Miranda, shaking her head in agony.  “I didn’t want to do it, Miranda.  I hated every minute of it.  But I wanted that part so bad that I would do anything.”

Alarmed by what her husband had put Heather through, Miranda sat down and placed a hand on hers.  “Go on.”

“Will found out what I’d been doing and he got revenge on me,” she said.  “He sent me to this director’s office in Van Nuys.  When I got there he gave me drink and the next thing I know I’m undressed laying on the couch.  There were two men.  I know one of them was Philip Whitacre.  The director filmed them having sex with me.”

“Oh God,” Miranda whispered, disgusted by the turn of events.

“I woke up the next morning at Hotel Terranova.  There was a tape and a note from Will saying that it was my payback.”  She buried her face in her hands and cried silently, ashamed by what she was revealing.   “Don’t you see, Miranda?  I have to find the copy before he makes it public.  If my father sees it…"

Miranda shook her head.  “He won’t,” she said adamantly.  “We’ll deal with Will Thomerson, don’t you worry about that.  He has a lot to answer for.”

Stormy paced back and forth in the conservatory, impatiently waiting for Samantha to show up so they could finish their conversation.  Watching her with Timothy all night was driving him crazy.  Since running into her again at Hotel Terranova he had fallen in love like never before. 

But the fact that she was married to Timothy Fallmont complicated things.  Still, she obviously wasn’t happy so why did she have to stay with him?  What they had together was so wonderful and exciting.  If only he could make her see that.

Finally the door opened and Stormy spun around.  “Samantha, I was beginning to think you weren’t going to-“   He stopped abruptly when he realized it wasn’t Samantha.

“Sorry to disappoint you, kid,” Timothy said as he strode into the room, cocky as ever.

Stormy immediately grew defensive.  “Did you take a wrong turn somewhere?”

Shaking his head, Timothy reached into his jacket pocket and handed an envelope to Stormy.  “My wife sends her regrets, but she won’t be able to rendezvous with you this evening.  We have a plane to catch back to Denver.”

Frowning, Stormy looked at the envelope and shrugged.   “What’s this?”

“Open it.  Look familiar?”

Reluctantly, Stormy pulled a set of photographs from the envelope and paged through them, his eyes narrowing in awe.  They were the same pictures that had been mailed to Samantha.  He looked up and met Timothy’s gaze.

“You see, Stormy, Janet Harper and I have an understanding.  We go way back.  She may have no qualms about dragging my family name through the mud, but when it comes to my marriage, she goes straight to the source.  Call it a perverted obsession on her part, but she gets a thrill out of seeing other people suffer.”

Stormy couldn’t believe that Janet had already presented her handiwork to Timothy.  So why bother to send Samantha the duplicates?  Samantha was right.  She enjoyed taunting her.  And this was the kind of woman Ethan was involved with.  It made him sick.

“She doesn’t love you,” he said to Timothy, handing him back the photographs.

Timothy laughed heartily, shaking his head in astonishment.  “You are young, aren’t you?” he asked.  “I suppose you think she’s in love with you?”

“We have something very special.  Something you and her could never have.”

“Oh really?” Timothy asked in a patronizing fashion.  “Samantha happens to be the mother of my child.  I’d say we have something pretty special.”

The news floored Stormy and he couldn’t hide his surprised reaction.  They had a child together?

“Of course she didn’t tell you that,” Timothy said, reaching into his wallet and removing a photo of a pretty young girl.  “This is Christina.  She’s ten this year.   She goes to boarding school in Switzerland.”

Stormy looked at the photo of the blond girl and immediately saw the resemblance to Samantha.  He couldn’t believe she never told him about her.  When it was just a marriage he was breaking up it was one thing, but a whole family?

“She’s the reason we’re together,” Timothy continued.  “She’s the reason I look the other way every time my wife has one of her phases where she needs the company of another man.  And believe it or not, but you’re not the youngest of the bunch.”

“You’re lying,” Stormy said, shaking his head.

Raising his eyebrows, Timothy crossed the room and stood before him.  “You think you’re special to her?” he asked with a chuckle.  “Get real, she could find another young stud like you every day of her life if she wanted, and you’d all mean the same to her.”

Angered by the way he talked about Samantha, Stormy clenched his fists and moved a step closer.  “And yet you put up with it,” he said.  “Why?  And don’t tell me it’s just because of your daughter because no one is that dedicated to their children.   You’ve got to be stepping out yourself.  There’s no other way you could allow this to happen if it were really true.  And that only confirms the fact that your marriage is over.  Why don’t you be a man and let her go?”

“Samantha makes a perfect political wife, plain and simple.  Believe me, appearances are about all she’s good for.”

The remark sent Stormy over the edge.  He lunged forward and grabbed Timothy by the jacket lapels, raising his fist to strike him.  “You son of a bitch.”

“Go ahead,” Timothy taunted in his smug tone.  “But let me give you a word of warning.  All I have to do is make a few phone calls and any chance of your father’s pipeline going through will be annihilated.”

The threat came through loud and clear.  Stormy released him and took a step back, cursing him under his breath.  

“I guess we understand each other,” Timothy said and straightened his collar.  “But just to clarify, let’s get one thing straight.  If you don’t stop seeing my wife, I’ll make sure that this injunction goes through.”

Stormy shook his head in disbelief.  He couldn’t believe the situation he was putting him in.  How could he choose between Samantha and his father?  One thing was for sure, if James found out about his affair with Samantha, and the implications that it could ruin his business, he would be furious.

“It’s up to you, sport,” Timothy said before leaving the room.  “Stay away from my wife and I’ll drop the injunction.  If not, well…I’d hate to be on the receiving end of James Blackthorne’s wrath.”

After he left, Stormy picked up an ashtray and hurdled it across the room.  He didn’t notice the hidden doorway jutting out inconspicuously.  Inside the passageway, Brett stood with a grin spread across his face.  Finally he had Stormy where he wanted him.  He knew his do-gooder brother-in-law would mess up eventually, and boy had he ever.

James and Brooke led their guests to the foyer and said their goodbyes.  Adrienne pulled Brooke aside and placed a caring hand alongside her face.

“I know what a nightmare you’re going through,” she said.  “I just wanted to tell you that you, James, and Michael are in our prayers.”

Brooke stifled the tears that threatened her eyes.  “Thank you, Adrienne,” she said and hugged her warmly.

“They’ll find him, Brooke,” Jack added and kissed her on the cheek.  “And mark my words, I will help bring down the son of a bitch who took him.”

Alex approached and offered Brooke a hasty goodbye, then turned to James and kissed him once on each cheek.   “Thank you for a lovely evening, James.  We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Alex.”  James turned to Timothy and Samantha and shook their hands firmly.  “Well, I’m not sure how much we got accomplished tonight.  You know where we stand, Senator.  The ball’s in your court.”

Timothy grinned, letting his eyes dart toward Stormy who glared at him from across the foyer.   “Maybe not,” he said enigmatically and led Samantha outside. 

Stormy watched them go, determined that he was not going to let Timothy Fallmont stand between him and Samantha.  There had to be a way to be with her and to have the injunction lifted. 

After closing the door, James turned around just as Miranda approached from the solarium.   “Daddy, I need to talk to you,” she said, her voice full of conviction. 

“What is it, Darling?” James asked.

“I think Will Thomerson kidnapped Michael,” Miranda said as Heather approached from behind and stood at her side.

James frowned.  “Well, of course I’ve suspected him, Miranda.  He’s my mortal enemy.  But the fact is that he couldn’t have gotten into the house that night.  The doors were locked up and the police found no signs of a break in.  Believe me, I’d love to be able to accuse Thomerson of this.”

“What do you know, Miranda?” Brooke asked, full of hope.

“The tunnels go all the way to his house,” she replied evenly.  “Heather and I found them by accident.  We also found a birth certificate.”

“What birth certificate? “James asked frantically.

Miranda shrugged.  “I didn’t get a get a good look at it,” she said.  “He came in and found us.”

“What were you two doing in his house?” Stormy asked.

Heather sighed and flipped her hair over her shoulder.  “It’s a long story.  The point is that he had the opportunity to do it.  And why would he have a birth certificate lying around his house?”

“James,” Brooke said, grabbing his arm tightly.  “We should call Detective Baines.”

Pausing, James shook his head and stared across the room in a daze.  “No, not yet,” he said.  “I’m going to handle Will Thomerson personally.”

On her way home, Alex stopped by Jordan’s house to pick up a few things that she’d left behind in her haste to move out that morning.  When her limo pulled up in the drive, she got out and went inside, more than surprised by the welcome she received.

“Alex Reynolds, I thought you were dead,” said Victor Distefano, a co-star from a few of her films..  “You look great.  Whatever you’re doing now works for you.”

She expertly waved him off and proceeded through the house in search of Jordan.  It was typical that he’d throw a party on the day she filed for divorce.  A playboy like him couldn’t really ever change his spots.

Several more acquaintances and faces from the past approached her but she kept her pace, going from room to room until she reached the master bedroom upstairs.  Upon throwing open the door, she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Jordan, naked on the bed with two voluptuous models on either side of him. 

“Don’t let me interrupt,” Alex preened and strode across the room to the dresser.  “I forgot my Tiffany earrings.  The ones you gave me on our wedding day.”

“By all means,” Jordan replied.  “At least James isn’t the only ex-husband you’re sentimental about.”  Then one of the models climbed on top of him while the other pulled him into a sensual kiss. 

Rifling through the drawers, Alex snatched up the earrings and turned around, pausing thoughtfully before continuing on her way.  “On second though, I really don’t need this trash.  I think they’d be more suited for your…playmates.”

She tossed the earrings onto the bed, then plucked off her wedding ring and threw it across the room before leaving.   Once outside in the hall, she leaned against the door and placed a hand on her heaving chest.   Why did she let him get to her?  They were getting a divorce, she told herself.  So why did she still care so much?

Inside the room, Jordan pushed the two young women off of him and climbed out of the bed.   He ran to the door, naked, and opened it with a jolt, suddenly disappointed that Alex had left.  He hadn’t handled that situation well at all.  The truth was, all the big breasted twenty-something blondes in the world couldn’t take the place of Alex Reynolds.

Miranda walked into the library where Brett was standing at the window.  He turned around and saw her enter, quickly rushing toward her.  “How’s your father?” he asked.  “I still think we should call the police.  There’s no telling what James will do when he goes to confront Will Thomerson.”

When summoning all of her self control failed, Miranda pulled her fist back and punched him directly in the jaw.  Brett staggered back a few feet, howling out in pain as he stared in disbelief at his wife. 

“What the hell was that for?” he demanded angrily.

Miranda’s eyes were like daggers as she glared at him.  “That’s for what you did to Heather!”

“Stormy, I told you I don’t want to talk about it!” Heather ranted as she paced back and forth in her bedroom upstairs.  The last thing she wanted was her ex-husband knowing about what happened to her.  It was humiliating enough that Miranda knew. 

“No, there’s something going on that you’re not telling me,” Stormy insisted.  “And Miranda is in on it.  That’s what the two of you were talking about the other night when I walked in.  You made up some story about a party for our mom and dad but that was just a cover-up, wasn’t it?  And then this morning at breakfast.  Heather, what is going on?”

“Just leave it alone!” she exclaimed.  “Stormy, you can’t go around making demands on me anymore.  We’re divorced, remember?  It doesn’t concern you!”

Frustrated by her stubbornness, Stormy rubbed his aching head and tried to remain calm.  “Why were you and Miranda at Will Thomerson’s house?  Does this have anything to do with that scheme Brett hatched to steal those movie deals from him?  I know he pulled you in on that.  He admitted it to me.”

“No, Stormy.  Miranda and I found the tunnel that led to Will’s house so we decided to do some snooping.  We were just trying to find something that could link him with Michael’s kidnapping.  End of story.”

“You can’t blame me for being concerned, you know.  First you get involved with Brett, knowing full well what he pulled last year with Lauren.  Then you mysteriously get mixed up with Philip Whitacre…”

“What?” she gasped and spun around to face him.  “Why would you say that?”

“Because a couple of weeks ago you told us where we could find him, and you never did say how you knew.  That was right around the time when you started acting funny.”

“Acting funny?” she asked nervously.  “What are you talking about?”

"You spent two weeks pushing everyone away.  You barley came out of your room that whole time.  I’d like to help you, Heather, but you won’t let me.”

Wishing he would leave her alone, Heather darted past him and ran down the hall to the stairs. 

“Heather!” Stormy yelled and ran down the hall after her.

She raced down to the foyer and outside to her car, intent on getting away from the chaos.

When she disappeared from view, Stormy turned and ran into Miranda halfway down the hallway.  

"What’s wrong with you?” she asked and folded her arms.

Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and decided he would have to see what Miranda knew.  At least if Heather wouldn’t confess then his sister might.   “Tell me what’s going on, Miranda,” he insisted.  “Please.  I just want to help.”

She rolled her eyes and darted past him.  “Stormy, just stay out of it.”

Aggravated, he turned and started down the stairs.  He had to find out what was going on with Heather one way or another.  He’d known her since the ninth grade, and he knew when something was wrong. 

Jordan cleared most of the guests out within the hour, quickly growing tired of the party which had gotten way out of hand.   At forty-three, he liked to think he could keep up with his younger cohorts, but he slowly realized he wasn’t up to par as he had been a few years ago.

Finding his way into the media room, he found Philip sitting on the luxurious leather sofa with several young women surrounding him on all sides.  Jordan had to hand it to Whitacre.  He was young and had what it took to make it in Hollywood.  He reminded him of himself about fifteen years ago.

“Sorry everybody, but the party’s over,” Jordan said and ushered a few stragglers out into the entryway.  He couldn’t stop thinking about Alex and the unfortunate way they’d left things earlier.  The truth was he was still crazy in love with her and hated the thought of doing anything to hurt her.   After the episode in his room upstairs, the last thing on his mind was partying.

A familiar voice from behind caught his attention and he turned around just as Heather entered the room, a forlorned look on her pretty face.   “Heather….” he began, walking quickly toward his daughter.  “What are you doing here?”

She wanted nothing more than to be with her father, to forget everything and everyone who constantly tried to bring her down.   It was times like this when Jordan turned into the father that she knew and loved before her mother ran off. 

“I just thought we could talk,” she said, taking a look around at the dissipating crowd.  “I guess you’re busy.  I shouldn’t have come.”

Jordan quickly ran over to stop her from leaving.  “No, don’t be silly,” he said.  “I just had a few friends over.  They’ll be gone soon.    Stick around.   I’ve been wanting to talk to you lately anyway.    You never have time for your old man these days.”

Heather smiled and moved forward to hug him.   Suddenly, the path to the sofa cleared and her eyes landed on Philip, lounging across the room with a harem of women.

“Heather?” Jordan asked, noting the sudden change in her mood.  “Are you okay?”

Unable to take her eyes off of Philip’s face, Heather backed up, recoiling in disgust at the sight.   Vivid memories from that night on the director’s couch came flooding back to her and she felt sick.   In one swift movement, she turned and raced back out of the house.

“Heather!” Jordan called after her, perplexed by her odd behavior.

“Wow,” Philip called from his spot on the sofa.  “That’s that girl I told you about.”

Frowning, Jordan turned toward him and shrugged his shoulders.  “What girl?”

“The one I told you about earlier,” Philip claimed.  “The one who got all doped up and starred in that little three-way on film a couple of weeks ago.   I never forget a body like that.  She’s tight, man.”

Suddenly, Jordan flew into a rage, feeling his heart beat wildly inside his chest as he tore after Philip.  “You bastard,” he said and lifted him to his feet.  Drawing his fist back, he punched him repeatedly in the stomach, bending him over and sending his knee crashing into his gut. 

“What the-“ Philip groaned, blood ebbing from the corners of his mouth.

“That girl is my daughter, you sick son of a bitch!” Jordan yelled, summoning all his strength to hurdle Philip’s sturdy frame clear across the room.  

The remaining guests grew eerily silent as Philip was thrown against the back wall, knocking several paintings to the floor.  Before Jordan could come after him again, Philip struggled to his feet and took off through the terrace doors.  He knew if he stuck around another second he would be dead.

Back inside the house, Jordan panted with exhaustion, screaming at the guests to leave before he called the police.   He buried his face in his hands, disgusted by the fact that he’d invited that man into his house after what he did to his daughter.

Brooke wrung her hands together nervously, impatiently waiting for James to return to their room.   After hearing about the tunnels going to Will’s house, and the birth certificate Miranda and Heather had found, he took off without a word. 

Terrified of what he might do, she considered phoning Detective Baines and sending him up to the Thomerson estate.  After the volatile history the two men shared, it was possible that James could do something awful.   The last thing she needed at a time like this was her husband winding up in jail.

When Miranda entered the room and saw the state of panic Brooke was in, she quickly walked up and clasped her hands in front of her.  “Brooke, I hope I didn’t make a mistake in telling my father about Will.  You just have no idea what kind of man he is.”

“I think I do know,” Brooke said as she continued pacing.  “I just don’t know what to do.   Should we go over there?”

Miranda shook her head.  “No, believe me you don’t want to be there when Daddy blows up.”

“But that’s what I’m worried about.”

Suddenly, Miranda grew quiet and she walked to the dresser across the room.  She bent down and pulled open the bottom drawer, sorting through a stack of clothes.

“What are you doing?” Brooke asked.

“My father keeps a gun in here,” she said.  “He has since I was a little girl.  Leilani found it once by accident and it took all of us half an hour to calm her down.  She’s a little squeamish about things like that.”

Brooke looked on in a panic.  “Did you find it?”

Slowly, Miranda stood up and held the empty box where the revolver was kept.  “He took it,” she said with wide eyes.  “Oh my God.  He’s going to kill him.”

Will made his way down the staircase at his estate, pausing in the entryway before turning toward the parlor room.   The faint glow of a table lamp caught his attention and he stopped in the doorway.   He knew he wasn’t alone.  Cautiously, he stepped further into the room, his eyes darting nervously toward the desk.

“How did you get in here?” he asked.

James, reclined in the chair behind the desk, motioned to the hidden door in the bookcase.  “The same way you got into my house the night you kidnapped my son,” he said, raising his hand and pointing the .38 revolver directly at him.

 Next time....

The conflict between James and Will deepens.  Janet breaks into Will's house. Brett blabs to James about Stormy's indiscretions.  Hollywood prepares for the Filmmaker Awards.  James has strong words for Stormy.  Detective Baines has bad news about the kidnapping.  

Read Episode 42