Previously...

Janet was questioned by the police about her relationship with Will. She revealed that she went to his house the night of the murder with a gun, intent on threatening him into relinquishing her manuscript. Instead, she heard shouting from inside and hid in the bushes. After hearing a gunshot, she saw Stormy fleeing from the house. Stormy was subsequently arrested for murder. Stormy recounted his experience the night of the murder, claiming he'd threatened Will, but they got into a brawl and Stormy was knocked unconscious. When he awoke, Will was dead. Disbelieving his story, the police questioned Heather, wondering if Stormy killed Thomerson for her. Alex revealed to Miranda that she went to Will's the night he was murdered and saw Jordan hovering over his dead body. Heather pleaded with her not to tell the police, but Alex questioned whether she could let Stormy take the fall for Jordan's crime.  

Episode 46

"One and One Make Five"

The guard led James to the back of the police station and through a maze of secured doors.   They walked down a long corridor and into the holding cell block where Stormy was sitting on a cold metal slab of a bench.

“Dad!” Stormy exclaimed, standing up and rushing to the cell bars.  “Dad, they booked me.  They fingerprinted me and everything.  They think I killed Will.”

James nodded and closed his eyes with regret.  “I know and I’m sorry.  I talked to Brandon and apparently there’s nothing we can do until your arraignment tomorrow morning at nine o’clock.  You’re going to have to spend the night in here, son.”

Stormy gripped the bars and kicked them in frustration.  “I didn’t do it, Dad.  I didn’t kill him.  I went there, and I wanted to kill him, but I didn’t.  You have to believe me.”

“I do believe you, Stormy.  And Brandon will be able to get you out on bail and then we’ll prove that you didn’t do it.  Trust me.  I won’t let you spend another night in this place.”

Running his fingers through his tousled hair, Stormy look at his father in fear.  “You can’t make a promise like that,” he said.  “What if I go on trial and a jury finds me guilty?  What then?  If Baines doesn’t believe my story then a jury sure as hell won’t.”

“They have no proof that you killed him,” James said assertively.

Growing into a daze, Stormy thought back to the night of the murder and wished that he hadn’t gone there in the first place.  Looking back it seemed like a huge mistake.  “If we could just find out who the killer really was.  Get them to confess and then I’ll be off the hook.  Dad, do you have any idea who could have done it?”

James gave him look of helplessness.  He couldn’t let his son be convicted of something he didn’t do.  But the only way to prevent that was to incriminate the real killer, and that was something else he didn’t know if he could do.

The full moon illuminated the waves as they crashed up onto the dark beach, submerging the sand and rocks and then retreating back into the turbulent ocean.

Heather stepped out of her car and walked the short ways down to the beach where Alex was standing, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.  “Alex, thank you for meeting me,” she said. 

“Like I had a choice,” Alex said with a great deal of anguish.  “You and I are the only ones who know the truth.  You can’t tell me that saying nothing is the best thing for us to do, Heather.”

“I don’t know what the best thing for us to do is,” Heather said and stared blankly out at the never-ending blackness.  “My father killed someone for me.  How can I turn my back on him and hand him over to the police?”

Alex shook her head and pulled her macramé shawl around her shoulders, the cool spring breeze lapping at her skin and sending shivers down her spine.  “But how can we let Stormy sit in jail knowing that he’s innocent?  He’s my son and I love him more than anything.  You loved him once too, remember?  Think about what you’re asking of me.”

“Think about what would happen to my father if we turned him in!”

“I can’t think about that!” Alex exclaimed.  “I have to tell the truth!  I have to tell them that I saw Jordan there and that he killed him!”  She set her jaw with determination and started up the steps to her car.

“No!” Heather lamented, grabbed Alex and pulling her back.  “Please don’t do it!  I’m begging you!  Don’t send my father to prison!”

Alex sunk her head and shut her eyes tightly.  “I don’t want him to go prison any more than you do, but-“

“Then don’t do it!  Just don’t say anything!  James has the best lawyer working in Stormy’s defense!  They won’t let him go to jail!”

“You don’t know that!” Alex cried.

“Give them a chance to come up with a defense!” Heather pleaded, her eyes tearing up in despair.  “Please, Alex.  Do this for my father.  I know you still love him.  Don’t turn against him now.”

Alex looked at her, deeply confused, and turned back to the water and prayed that she was doing the right thing by keeping quiet.

Across town at the Blackthorne mansion, James walked inside and handed his coat to Leilani.  Brooke came down the stairs and raced over to him, followed by Brett and Miranda.

“James, how is Stormy?” Brooke asked, hugging her husband tightly.

“About as well as can be expected,” James replied.

Miranda walked up and put a hand on her father’s arm.  “I can’t believe they’re charging him with murder,” she said.  “Stormy isn’t a killer.  It isn’t fair that he’s sitting in jail while the real killer is free.”

Brooke sighed uneasily and clutched onto James’s arm.  “Does Brandon think he can get him bail?”

“We’ll find out tomorrow morning,” James replied.

“Don’t worry, James,” Brett said with straight face.  “I’m sure Stormy will be home before you know it.”   He struggled to hide his enjoyment over the fact that Stormy was sitting in jail.   He had no idea that when he planted the tape in his room and phoned in the phony tip that Stormy would confess to being there the night of the murder.  It couldn’t have worked out any better if he’d tried.

The doorbell rang and Leilani went to answer it, pulling the door open and practically being knocked down by Renee Dewitt as she rushed inside with determination.

“Renee,” James said with a frown.  “What is it?  You look upset.”

She leveled her eyes on him and lurched forward, spreading her fur coat open and placing her hands firmly on her hips.  “You’re damn right I’m upset,” she said.  “I don’t appreciate you using my husband so that you can get away with murder.”

James and Brooke exchanged worried glances and then he quickly ushered Renee into his study.  He closed the doors and turned, holding his hands up in an effort to calm her down.   “Is this about Kenny?” he asked.

“How could you ask him to lie for you?” she demanded, her curly black hair falling gently over her shoulders.  “He’s supposed to be your friend, and yet you used him to give yourself an alibi.  Do you know what kind of trouble he could be in if the police find out about your little lie?”

“They won’t,” James insisted.  “Renee, you have nothing to worry about.”

Glaring menacingly, Renee stepped forward and pointed a finger at him.   “You have no way of knowing that,” she said.  “What happens if the police find a hole in your alibi and charge Kenny as an accessory to murder?  You’ll have succeeded not only in destroying your life, but also his.  Can you honestly say that you could live with yourself knowing that?”

Sighing, James dug his hands into his pockets and walked across the room.  “I promise you it won’t come to that.”

Renee shook her head angrily.  “You surprise me,” she began in a haughty manner.  “The James Blackthorne I know wouldn’t sacrifice his own son so that he could get away with murder.”  A pause while she followed him to his desk.  “Isn’t that what’s going on here?  You killed your nemesis and now you’re allowing your son to take the wrap for it?”

“Look, I can’t go into details but I promise you Kenny is not going to be hurt in any of this.”

“He better not be,” Renee said and issued him a final look of warning.  “Because I promise if he is, I’ll see to it that you are very, very sorry.”

With that, she turned and left the study, barreling toward the doors and making a dramatic exit from the house.    James rubbed his aching head, overwhelmed by the complexity of the situation.

Brett peeled off his shirt, following Miranda into the bathroom where she was brushing her teeth in front of the mirror.

“I wonder what that was all about,” he said, standing behind her and admiring his reflection in the mirror. 

“What?  You mean Renee DeWitt?  That’s just her way.  Daddy always said she should have went into the business because she’s a natural at melodrama.”

“I mean all that business about James getting away with murder,” Brett explained, running his hands over his bare chest.  “What do you think she meant by that?”

“Oh who knows,” Miranda said and wiped her mouth with a towel.  She switched off the bathroom light and made way into the bedroom.  “The thing I can’t figure out is how that videotape got into Stormy’s bedroom.  He swears he didn’t take it.”  

Shrugging, Brett unfastened his pants and walked to the closet.  “Well how else would it have gotten in his closet?” he asked and then chuckled.  “Do you think someone planted it there to frame him?”

Miranda opened her mouth to reply and then stopped, taken aback by something her husband said.  She turned to him and frowned.  “I didn’t say that they found it in his closet,” she said suspiciously.  “How could you have known that?”

Quickly, Brett covered his tracks with more lies.  “Well, I must have heard it somewhere,” he said, carefully hiding the guilt in his voice.  “Let’s face it.  This case isn’t exactly kept under wraps.  The media is having a field day right now.”

Regarding him carefully, Miranda nodded her head and climbed under the sheets in bed.  “Yeah I guess you’re right,” she said, still not convinced that he’d heard that much detail about the videotape from the news.  They’d just found out about it earlier that night at the police station.  The media certainly couldn’t have gotten that much information so quickly.

“I’m sure it’ll all get cleared up soon,” Brett said and leaned in to her, brushing his lips seductively along her neck.   “Now, let’s talk about something else.  I’ve been wanting to bring something up but it never seems like the right time.”

“What?” Miranda asked.

Grinning happily, Brett leaned on his elbow and traced her arm with his finger.  “I think we’re ready to start a family of our own,” he began.  “I want us to have a baby.”

The announcement took Miranda completely by surprise and she shot upright with a start.  “What?” she exclaimed.  “You want to have a baby?  Now?”

“Why not?” Brett asked.  “We’ve been married a year already and things are going great.  I think a baby right now would be the next logical step in our marriage.  Don’t you?”

“No,” Miranda replied quickly.  “God Brett, I sometimes think you have no consideration for anyone but yourself.”

“Excuse me?” he asked defensively and pulled away from her.

“My father and Brooke lost their baby,” Miranda asserted.  “They may never get him back.  Can you imagine how they’d feel if I got pregnant and brought a baby into this house?  It would be like rubbing their noses in the fact that they lost theirs.  No, I can’t do that to my father.”

“So we’re supposed to ignore the fact that we have a life of our own?  Just forget about starting a family so we don’t step on anyone’s toes?  Miranda, that’s ridiculous.  We can’t be held responsible for something that’s out of our control.”

“It’s still too soon,” Miranda said and rolled over, her back to him.  “Maybe in a year or so but not right now.”

Brett sighed with frustration and reached his hand out to her.  “Babe, I was just-“ 

“I said forget it!” Miranda shouted, pulling away from him and moving to the edge of the bed.

Throwing his hands up in resignation, Brett rolled over and slammed his fist into his pillow.  He hadn’t expected her to react with such hostility to his idea.  Having a baby seemed like a good idea to him, not to mention beneficial, because if anything should happen, he’d be tied to the Blackthorne family forever.

Down the hall, James walked into the bedroom and found Brooke kneeling in front of the dresser holding the silver revolver in her hand.  His eyes flew open in surprise and he rushed toward her and snatched it away.

“Brooke, what are you doing?” he demanded.  “You shouldn’t be handling a gun.  It isn’t safe.”

Climbing to her feet, she looked at him with uneasiness and stared down at the gun in his hand.  “We can’t let Stormy go to prison, James,” she said.  “You know it as well as I do.  It isn’t right.  We have to tell the truth.”

James set the gun down on the dresser and grabbed Brooke by the shoulders.  “We can’t tell the truth,” he insisted.  “Stormy will be home soon and we’ll come up with a way to keep him from being convicted.  Trust me, Brooke.  This is the only way to handle it.  If we tell the truth-“

“But it isn’t fair,” Brooke cried, falling into his arms and sobbing into his shoulder.  “He’s your son and he’s locked up like a criminal.  Doesn’t that matter to you?”

“Of course it does,” James said.  “It’s tearing me apart inside.  But believe me, Brooke, telling the truth isn’t going to make things any better.”

Distraught, Brooke turned and walked across the room.  She took a deep breath and looked down at her trembling hands.  “Where is Ethan?” she asked and turned back to her husband.  “He’s been gone for two days.  James, does his disappearance have anything to do with Will’s murder?”

“Ethan’s on a business trip,” James said firmly.  “I told you that-“

“I know what you told me!” Brooke cried.  “I don’t believe you.  He wouldn’t have just left town while all of this was going on.  And if he had, he would have come back as soon as he heard about Will, and about Stormy’s arrest.”

“Look, Ethan will be home as soon as it’s safe,” James said and put his arms around her.  “Don’t worry about him.  He’s fine.”

Brooke looked into his eyes, trying to determine what it was that he was hiding.  She knew by the sound of his voice that Ethan was involved more than he was letting on.  The prospect scared her to death.  The last time she’d seen Ethan she confessed to him that Michael was in fact his son.  The next thing she knew he was gone and no one had heard a word from him. 

Deciding to put her trust in James, Brooke walked to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.  James, staring at the gun on the dresser, slowly picked it up and examined it in the light.  He closed his eyes, remembering the night of the murder and his last conversation with Ethan.

The next morning, Stormy was led into the courtroom with handcuffs binding his wrists behind his back.  The bailiff brought him to a row of seats in front of the judge and he exchanged worried glances with James and Alex, who sat several rows behind.  To their right was Heather, Miranda and Brett eagerly awaiting the outcome of the arraignment.

The judge called the court room to order and glanced down at his agenda.   “This court is now in session,” he began.  “First up is the question of bail for Ryan James Blackthorne.  Counselor, approach the bench.”

Brandon left Stormy’s side and made his way up to the judge.  “Your Honor, I’m requesting that my client be released on bail on his own recognizance.  Mr. Blackthorne has roots in Los Angeles and has lived here his entire life.  He’s also an executive at Sunset Studios in Hollywood.  This is Mr. Blackthorne’s first arrest and we’re confident that he poses no risk of flight.”

The judge nodded and turned to the prosecutor.  “What’s your take on this, Mr. Littleton?”

The prosecutor stood up and adjusted his tie.  “Your Honor, the city requests that bail be denied on the basis of the sheer calculated nature of this crime,” he said.  “Ryan Blackthorne has attested to the fact that he went to the deceased’s home with the intent to cause bodily harm.  We’re talking murder in the first degree.  He had every intention of breaking a law when he went to Mr. Thomerson’s home and we believe he’s a serious risk for flight.”

“How do you know that?” the judge asked.

“Mr. Blackthorne left town for five months last year.  He abandoned his wife and family and only returned when it was necessary because of financial difficulties he was having,” the prosecutor said.

“Your Honor, Mr. Blackthorne left town on business,” Brandon rebuttled.  “He was owner of a record label and went on tour with an artist signed to that label.  That’s hardly the same thing as abandoning his family.  Furthermore, I believe that a charge of murder in the first degree is a little premature.  My client admitted to going to Will Thomerson’s home the evening of October 13^th, but did not have a weapon with him.  The gun in question was already at the home of the deceased’s, making it impossible for a first degree murder charge to stick.”

“The accused freely admits to going to the house with the intention of killing the victim,” said Littleton.  “It’s our opinion that he’s a danger to society and therefore should be kept in custody of the court until the outcome of his trial.”

“Your Honor-“ Brandon began.

The judge slammed his gavel down on the desk in an effort so silence the two bickering lawyers.  “All right, that’s enough,” he ordered.  “I’ve heard both sides and I’ve made my decision.”

Stormy swallowed hard, then looked back at James who held his breath in suspense.

“Due to the violent nature of the crime committed, and Mr. Blackthorne’s history of instability, I’m denying bail,” the judge declared.  “The defendant will remain in custody until a trial date is set.  Bailiff, please take Mr. Blackthorne back to his cell.”

“They can’t do this!” James bellowed, standing up and shooting Brandon a look of concern.

Stormy lowered his head as the bailiff led him out of the courtroom.  He locked eyes with Heather who watched helplessly from her seat next to Alex.

“I told you we’re making a mistake,” Alex whispered to Heather in despair.

Heather buried her face in her hands, horrified by the prospect of Stormy in jail for another night, let alone the weeks and months until the trial was set.  The decision to protect her father seemed like a mistake now.