Previously...

Certain that Jordan had murdered Will for her, Heather begged Alex not to go to the police.  Alex, guilty over Stormy's incarceration, told Detective Baines that she'd seen Jordan standing over Will's dead body the night of the murder.  Renee blasted James for using Kenny as his alibi.  Later, Renee found Kenny in bed with B.J. Summers and told him their marriage was over.  Miranda questioned how Brett knew details of Stormy's arrest and began to suspect that he'd framed him.  She hastily shot Brett down when he suggested they have a baby of their own.  The police arrested Philip Whitacre for his role in Heather's against-her-will porn debut, then continued searching for Joel Armitage.  The caretaker at Will's mansion went to the police with information about the murder, but ran off before they could question him further.  

Episode 47

Season Finale

"Out of the Shadows"

Janet opened the door to Ethan’s house and looked with frightened eyes at James standing on the front porch.  She swallowed hard, backing up a step and allowing him to enter.

“Ethan isn’t here,” she said timidly.

“I know that,” James reported, turning to her with a hint of contempt in his eyes.  “I came here to tell you to take a hike.  You’re not wanted here anymore.”

Janet walked into the living room, threatened by his presence.  “Detective Baines asked me to stay in town in case they need me for anything else,” she said.  “I can’t exactly leave town just because you don’t want me here.”

“I don’t want you here,” he insisted.  “I don’t want you anywhere near my family after what you’ve done.  As if writing that trashy manuscript about us wasn’t enough, then you had to go ahead and tell the police that my son committed murder.”

“I was only telling them what I saw,” Janet claimed, shaking her long black hair over her shoulder.

James glared menacingly at her.  “Yeah, well your version of the truth is a little biased.  Just refer to page 185 of your book if you don’t think so.  You have a way with turning the truth into a thinly veiled work of fiction, Miss Harper.”

“I know what I saw,” Janet purported.    “If you can’t handle that then that’s not my fault.”

“If only you’d kept your mouth shut about that night,” James said with frustration.  “If only you hadn’t made a deal with the devil when you sold Will Thomerson that manuscript full of lies.  If only you hadn’t gotten involved with my nephew.  None of this would have happened if you had just stayed away.  You wouldn’t have gone over there that night and you wouldn’t have seen anything and then been compelled to implicate my son.” 

Janet shook her head angrily.  “If you’re suggesting this whole thing is my fault, then you’re deluded.  If you’re so sure that your son is innocent, then who’s the guilty one?  Who are you protecting?”

James quickly tightened his lips and took a few steps back to the door.  “As soon as this trial is over I want you out of Los Angeles and out of our lives forever,” he said.  “One thing’s for certain, I sure as hell don’t want my nephew coming home and seeing you here.  You’ve done enough already.”

Janet raced forward and slammed the door closed after he’d left.  She turned around and wrung her hands together nervously, wondering what it was that James was hiding.  Not to mention the fact that Ethan had been gone for three days, and her last encounter with him was odd to say the least…

The door opened and Ethan emerged, his face pale and his clothes and hair disheveled.  He glanced across the room and paused when he saw Janet.

“Thank God,” she said and rushed over to him after hanging up the phone.  “Ethan, there’s something I have to tell you.  I’ve done something awful.”  She was determined to tell him about the manuscript before someone else found it and filled him in.  She was positive Will had been shot.  She heard the gunfire and then saw Stormy Blackthorne leave the house.  Now the truth would come out when they searched his house. 

“Janet, not now,” he abruptly cut her off, heading to the bedroom and pulling a fresh pair of slacks and a t-shirt from the closet.  “I’m sorry.  I have to go.  I can’t explain right now.”

Watching him hastily rush about the room, Janet shook her head in despair.  “Where are you going?” she asked.  “Ethan, I have to talk to you.  It’s important.  It’s about-“

“I can’t right now!” he lamented, stopping after peeling off his jacket.

Suddenly Janet’s eyes traveled to the sleeve of his black leather jacket which was soaked in blood.  “Oh my God,” she whispered.  “Ethan, your jacket-“

He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes.  “Forget about it,” he said. “Just trust me, okay?  And if anybody asks, you haven’t seen me since this afternoon…”

Janet shook the vision away and tried to piece together what was happening.  Blood on Ethan’s jacket and then him disappearing for so long without a word.   It didn’t add up to her, and even her investigative skills left her baffled as to what was happening.  She hated herself for thinking it, but maybe Stormy Blackthorne was innocent.  Maybe Ethan was the person that James was protecting. 

Across town, a police car was stopped in front of a house in Burbank, two uniformed officers knocking relentlessly on the door of Joel Armitage’s house.  When his wife answered the door, she immediately tried forcing it closed again.

“Mrs. Armitage, we’re still looking for your husband,” said Officer Fitzsimmons.  “Has he come home yet?”

“No,” she replied uneasily.  “I already told you.  I haven’t seen him in days.”

“Do you mind if we come in and take a look for ourselves?”

Missy Armitage reluctantly moved clear of the door and allowed them to come inside to search for her missing husband.  “You’re not going to find him here,” she said, walking over to the crib where her baby was crying.  “I don’t know where he is.”

“Has he taken off like this before?” asked Fitzsimmons while the other cop scouted around the ranch-style house. 

She shrugged indifferently and picked the baby up in her arms in an effort to comfort it.   “Yes, his work takes him all over the place.  He’s probably out looking for new talent.”

“Well, he’s wanted for questioning about a movie that he filmed,” said the officer.  “The woman he used was drugged and was filmed without her permission.  Your husband’s in a lot of trouble, Mrs. Armitage.  If you’re covering for him, you’ll be charged as an accessory to the crime.  If that happens, your baby here will have be turned over to the state and placed with a foster home.  I’d hate to do that to you, ma’am.”

Missy looked down at her baby and shook her head in despair.  She could kill her husband for getting them into this mess.  She’d begged him a hundred times to get out of that disgusting line of business he was in.  He was only asking for trouble.

“How old is he?” Fitzsimmons asked with a smile.  “He’s certainly fussy today.”

“He’s three months old,” Missy replied.

“Your first?” he asked.

She nodded.  “Yes.  We adopted him.  We couldn’t have our own because Joel had a vasectomy when he was working as an actor in the business and then the doctors weren’t able to reverse it.  We got lucky when the agency found this little guy for us.”

When the other officer gave him the all clear, they started back to the door.  “Well, if we find out that you’re hiding your husband, I’m afraid your baby might be taken away from you.  I’m sure that’s not what you want.  So if you hear from him, call us.”

She nodded and closed the door after them.   Walking over to the phone with the baby, she dialed a number and waited impatiently.  “Joel, the police were just here again looking for you.  They said you had some girl drugged.  Joel, I’m scared.  They’re threatening to take the baby away if they find out I’m covering for you.  You have to turn yourself in, Joel.  I won’t lose our baby.”

Detective Baines sat in the interrogation room with Jordan, turning on a tape recorder and settling down with a pad full of notes he’d written.

“Mr. Rydell, did you go to Will Thomerson’s house the night of October 13th?”

“Yes,” Jordan replied. 

“Did you have a .38 revolver with you?”

Jordan paused and took a deep breath before answering.  “Yes.”

“Were you planning on using that gun to kill him?” Baines asked.

“Yes,” was Jordan’s hasty reply.  “I wanted to make him pay for what he did to my daughter.”

In the waiting room, Alex paced back and forth, ignoring the way Heather glared angrily at her.  She didn’t care if she’d gone back on her word.  She had to do what she did for her son.  Telling the truth about that night was the only logical thing to do.

James and Miranda rushed inside the police station and over to Alex.  Miranda pulled her tightly into an embrace.  “Mom, we just got your message,” she said.  “I’m so glad you went to the police and told them the truth.  Is Jordan in there now?”

Alex nodded.  “Yes.  I just hope this means that they’ll let Stormy go.”

“Miranda, would you excuse us for a minute?” James asked his daughter, leading Alex across the room and sitting her down.  He took her hand and held it gently.  “What did happen that night, Alex?”

A long pause.  No more hiding the truth, she decided.  She had to come clean.  

"Alex..." James repeated.

“It was about six-thirty,” she finally began, looking away nervously as James watched with anticipation.  “I had just left you at the mansion.  You were so upset, James, and I felt responsible.  If I had told you earlier that Will knew he was Ethan’s father…”  Another pause.  “Well, I know how hard you fought to keep that secret and I wasn’t about to let Will ruin it by telling Ethan.”

“What happened?” James asked.  “What did you do?”

She took a deep breath.  “I knocked on the door and waited.  It seemed like it took forever for him to answer.  It was actually probably just a minute or two, but when he opened the door I could tell that he’d already been through some kind of an ordeal that night.  I knew someone else had already been there.  He seemed distracted and confused.  He seemed very groggy…”

Will opened the door and looked at Alex cross-eyed, bracing himself up against the door and placing a hand on his head.  “What are you doing here?  I’m not in the mood for you tonight, Alex.”

“I came to talk to you about James and Ethan,” Alex said, pushing her way past him  and walking into the entry.

Irritated, Will closed the door and turned toward her.  He swayed back and forth on his feet, stumbling a few steps and struggling to maintain his balance.   “What about James and Ethan?” he asked crossly. 

Alex studied his face carefully, noting the way his eyes glazed over.  “Do you remember a few months ago you came to me wanting me to confirm that Ethan was your son?”

“Yes, and you denied it.  But I had a DNA test done, Alex.  I know that Ethan is my son.  It’s a proven fact.  That controlling ex-husband of yours hid it from me for twenty-eight years.”

“And why do you think he did that?” Alex asked and moved toward him.  “He hid it from you because he knew that you would find a way to use it against him, and that’s exactly what you’re doing!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Will said, squinting and rubbing the back of his head.  “You’re blabbering as usual.”

“If you tell Ethan the truth, it will destroy his relationship with James,” Alex claimed.  “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?  Doesn’t that register in that vindictive mind of yours?”  She paused and regarded him carefully, noting the smug look on his face.  “No, I think that’s exactly what you’re hoping for.   But let me issue you a warning.  If you tell Ethan the truth, he’ll not only turn his back on James, he’ll turn his back on you.”

"How do you figure that?"

“Because he’ll know that you left his mother broken-hearted when you ran off to New York.  You abandoned her and you abandoned him.  Do you really think he would accept you with open arms knowing that?”

“I didn’t even know he existed,” Will insisted.  “James made damn sure of that.”

Alex gritted her teeth and shot him an accusing stare.  “And you paid him back for that, didn’t you?” she asked.  “You kidnapped his son so that he’d know what it felt like to be apart from his own flesh and blood.”

“I think you’ve starred in too many low-budget B movies,” Will quipped.  “Your imagination is running away with you.  And since when are you James Blackthorne’s personal protector?  A year ago you joined forces with me to crush him.  You helped me take over is studio, remember?  You wanted him to pay as much as I did.  So what happened?”

“I realized that revenge wasn’t all there was to life,” Alex replied defensively.  “Maybe you should follow the same path.”

Will laughed and shook his head in disbelief.  “No, you realized that you were still in love with him.  Let’s be honest, Alex.  That’s really what happened, isn’t it?”

Glaring angrily, Alex pulled her purse tightly over her shoulder.  “You have no clue what goes on between James and I.”

“Nothing goes on between you and James,” Will goaded.  “You’ll always be the has-been actress who he threw out of his life and his bed so he could hook up with the makeup girl.  And nothing you do is going to change that.  You’re living a fantasy.  If that’s the path that you think I should follow then I’ll have to take a pass.”

Alex rushed across the room and pulled the door open, hurt and humiliated by his words.  “You smug son of a bitch,” she hissed.  “Someday somebody’s finally going to give you what you deserve.”

“Let them try,” Will called after her as she fled from the house and darted down the driveway….

“After that I got in my car and drove to Jordan’s house,” Alex explained.  “But when I got there he was gone…and so was his gun.”

James listened carefully, folding his arms and registering the information in his head.

“I went back.  I had to.  I knew that Jordan was going to do something he would regret,” Alex said, her hands trembling.  “By the time I got back it was too late.  I walked in and there was Jordan standing over Will’s dead body.”

James chewed on his lower lip, rubbing his chin and wondering exactly what Jordan was saying to the police at the very moment.

“What time did you arrive at the deceased’s house?” Baines asked Jordan back in the interrogation room.

“About seven o’clock,” Jordan replied.

“And what happened when you got there?”

Jordan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, thinking back to that night with great clarity.  “I went in through the back door so no one would see me,” he explained.  “I walked into the parlor room and saw him laying on the floor.  Somebody had beaten me to it.”

“He was already dead when you got there?” Detective Baines asked skeptically.

Jordan nodded.  “I looked around and didn’t find anyone.  The front door was wide open.  I saw a gun laying on the floor next to the body.”

“What did you do then?”...

Jordan knelt down beside Will’s body, grimacing at the sight of blood gushing from the bullet wound in his chest, soaking the crisp white tuxedo shirt he wore beneath his black jacket.  He placed a finger gently alongside his neck and realized there was no pulse.  He was most definitely dead.

Inspecting him carefully, Jordan spotted the corner of a black plastic object jutting out from the pocket of Will’s jacket.   He reached out and pulled the videotape from the inside pocket, examining it carefully.  Quickly, he pocketed the tape and withdrew a handkerchief, wiping the gun down and placing it carefully back on the floor. 

When he stood up, Alex was there, gaping at the horrific sight before her.

“Jordan!” she gasped, her hands plastered to her mouth.  “Is he dead?”

Jordan looked at her and then back at the body.  He shoved the handkerchief in his pocket and raced over to her, grabbing her by the shoulders.   “Alex, go home,” he demanded in an authoritative manner.  “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I was afraid you were going to do something drastic so I came here and-“ Alex stammered, too strained with despair to think straight.  “Oh God, Jordan…I can’t believe he’s really dead.”

“Alex, you have to go!” Jordan exclaimed.  “I cannot afford to be seen here!”

Nodding, Alex backed up out of the room, her eyes still riveted to the body.  “Okay,” she murmured, bumping into the door and jumping with a start.   “Are you coming?”

He nodded and ushered her out the door.  “Yes.  Just go home,” he said.  “And Alex, don’t say a word to anyone about this, okay?”

She stifled back the tears in her eyes and turned, racing down the drive to her car and peeling out onto the main road.    After she’d gone, Jordan turned back and gave the room another glance-over.  Securing the videotape in his pocket, he turned and made his way back out the back door where he’d came….

“Mr. Rydell, why did you wipe the fingerprints off of the gun if you didn’t kill him?” Baines asked.  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Shrugging, Jordan shifted in his seat and folded his hands on the table.  “Will Thomerson was a scoundrel.  Whoever killed him did the world a favor.  I was just doing the killer a favor by making sure they covered their tracks.”

“Did you see anyone else in the house?” Baines inquired.  “Either inside the house or anywhere on the grounds?”

Jordan shook his head in reply.

“So for all you know, Stormy Blackthorne could have fired the shot that killed him.”

“Yes."

Miranda looked at her brother behind the bars, offering a hopeful smile as she watched him reflect on the news about Jordan.

“Mom swears that he did it,” she said.  “She walked into the house and he was wiping the fingerprints off of the gun.  Don’t you see, Stormy?  You’re off the hook.  Jordan is the killer.  He was probably the one who set you up too.”

Stormy shook his head.  “I don’t know about that,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I know you’re not going to like this, but I think the person who framed me is someone completely different,” Stormy began, eyeing his sister warily.  “I think that Brett wanted me to take the fall for the murder to get me out of the way”

His suspicions didn’t come as a surprise to Miranda.  She had the same thought the night before when Brett revealed that he knew where the videotape was found in Stormy’s room.  She hated to think that her own husband could do something so underhanded.   To her he was the picture of a perfect husband.  Always doting and caring, always a wonderful lover.  He even wanted to start a family with her.  He’d been so helpful to her father when he was paralyzed.  He stepped up to take over the studio when James asked him to.  How could the same man set up her brother to take the fall for a murder?

“What is it?” Stormy asked, studying her reaction carefully.  “You think he did it too, don’t you?”

Miranda took a deep breath, deciding she had to get to the bottom of whatever her husband had been up to.

Detective Baines led Jordan out to the waiting area and released him.  Heather rushed over and threw her arms around him happily.

“Daddy, what happened?” she asked.

“Everything's fine, Sunshine,” Jordan said with a smile.

Relieved, Alex let out a deep breath.  She was thrilled that her husband was off the hook.  All that worrying had been for nothing.  Apparently he was innocent, and if the police believed it then that was good enough for her.

Heather smiled happily, pulling her father into another warm embrace. “Oh thank God,” she said.  “I’m sorry I thought it was you, Daddy.  But when you gave me that tape-“

“He was already dead when I got there,” Jordan said, glaring across the room at Alex.      

“Mr. Rydell, you’re free to go,” said Detective Baines.

Alex rushed over, thrilled that Jordan was innocent but at the same time realizing that Stormy would have to remain in jail.  “That means that-“

“Yes, I’m afraid your son is still being charged,” said the detective.

James approached and put a hand on Alex’s shoulder.  “Don’t worry, Alex.  Brandon is doing everything he can to get this case thrown out.  Stormy won’t be convicted.  I promise you.”

Just then, Brooke arrived at the police station and walked over to James.   “Darling, what’s happening?” she asked.  “You left the house in such a hurry.  I was worried.  Is Stormy being released?”

James shook his head sorrowfully.  “I’m afraid not.  Jordan gave his statement and apparently he got to the house after Will had already been shot.”

Looking into her husband’s eyes with despair, Brooke led him off to the side of the room.  “James, we can’t let this continue,” she said.  “I have to tell the truth. I have to tell them what happened.” 

“No, Brooke,” James said.  “I won’t let you do that.”

“But Stormy could be found guilty!”

“No!” James insisted.  “There’s got to be another way!”

Just then, Lou Gunnerson entered the police station, approaching Detective Baines and gaping across the room at James and Brooke.  “That’s her….that’s the woman I saw,” he said.

“Excuse me?” Baines asked.  “Mr. Gunnerson, can I help you with something?”

The old caretaker pointed at Brooke.  “I saw her shoot Mr. Thomerson,” he said in a frail, trembling voice.  “She did it.  I saw her with my own eyes.”

The entire room grew quiet as all eyes darted toward Brooke.  She exchanged glances with James and nearly collapsed in fear.  James exhaled, afraid that the truth was finally going to be revealed.

Kenny DeWitt walked inside his house in Bel Air, spotted the suitcases packed and resting at the bottom of the staircase, and knew right away that his wife meant business.   He looked up when Renee came out of the drawing room, a cool stare emanating from her dark eyes.

“Renee, please don’t do this,” Kenny said.  “I swore to you that it was just a one time thing and I meant it.  You don’t want to kick me out.  I know you don’t.”

“I’m not kicking you out,” Renee said just as her driver came inside and began gathering her bags.  “I’m leaving.  This house has bad vibes for me so I’m checking into a suite at Hotel Terranova.  You’ll be hearing from my lawyers tomorrow.  I’d start clearing your things out of your office at Merteuil Industries if I were you, and say goodbye to your contacts at the land commission, because you’re through.”

“You can’t do this to me!” Kenny declared as he followed her to the door.  “I love you, damnit!”

Renee stopped and turned to him, raising an eyebrow.  “You should have thought about that before you jumped into bed with another blonde slut.  Now you have to face the consequences.  Take a look around, Kenny.  All this will be a memory once I’m through with you.”

Kenny sighed and watched as she followed the driver out to her limo waiting in the driveway.

That afternoon, Jordan was in his study in Beverly Hills talking on the phone when the butler, Gordon showed Alex in and left the room, closing the doors behind him.  Jordan glanced over at her and rolled his eyes, his wife being the last person he wanted to see.

“That’s right,” he said into the phone.  “Once you’re back in the states, I’ll personally throw you a party that will rival any we used to go to back in the day.”

Alex looked at her husband, becoming alarmed when she realized who he was talking to. 

“Okay, I’ll be in touch, Nathan,” Jordan continued.  “I have a meeting with the D.A. tomorrow and I’ll call you afterward.”

After he’d hung up, Alex rushed over to him and looked into his eyes.  “Please tell me that was not Nathan Blackthorne on the phone,” she began. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes it was,” Jordan replied.  “I’m joining the campaign in trying to get the charges against him dropped so he can come back to Hollywood.”

“I don’t understand why so many people want that man back here,” Alex lamented, folding her arms angrily.  “First James and now you.  What good can come of Nathan Blackthorne coming back here?”

“He’s a brilliant actor and director,” Jordan said firmly. 

“That's not all he is,” Alex said ominously, lighting a cigarette and puffing nervously on it.  She couldn’t allow that man back into their lives, not after all the trouble he’d caused.

The man hung up the phone on the terrace of his meticulously decorated manor on the outskirts of Paris, France.  He picked up the newspaper and turned to the world news, and the society pages where a familiar picture was printed next to a headline of particular interest.

Renee DeWitt to Seek Divorce Proceedings.

“Well, well, well,” he said with a hint of severity in his voice.  “Renee DeWitt is about to become a free woman again.  Looks like my return to Hollywood is going to be perfectly timed.”

He gripped the newspaper tightly, staring at the picture of Renee and smiling wickedly.  “We have some unsettled business to take care of, my dear, and it’s long overdue.”

Picking up a pair of scissors on the table beside him, he carefully cut around the picture of Renee, then opened a drawer and removed another photo - this one of Alex Reynolds.  Aligning the clippings neatly beside one another, he smiled and traced his finger along them both.

"I'll be seeing you both very soon," Nathan Blackthorne said with a certain amount of conviction.

With a sigh, Jordan walked across the room to his desk and began organizing a stack of movie scripts.  “Anyway, why did you come here?  Think of any other crimes you can accuse me of?”

“Jordan, that’s not fair!” Alex exclaimed.  “I saw you with the gun standing over the man’s body.  What else was I supposed to think?  You wouldn’t even talk to me about it.  How was I to know that he was already dead when you got there?”

“You seem to have a habit of accusing me of any crime that presents itself,” Jordan said hostily.  “First Michael’s kidnapping and now Will Thomerson’s murder.  What’s next?”

“Fine.  Be that way,” Alex said.  “I’m sorry for suspecting you, Jordan. I really am.”

Jordan shook his head dismissively.  “At any rate, it doesn’t matter now anyway.  It looks like Brooke Blackthorne is the culprit.”

“Has she confessed?”

“She hadn’t by the time I left the station this afternoon.  But I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before she does.  There’s an eyewitness for God’s sake.”

Alex thought about James and decided he must have known all along that Brooke was the one who killed Will.  He probably covered up for her for as long as he could.

“If he’s an eyewitness then why didn’t he come forward sooner?” James demanded as he and Detective Baines stood outside the interrogation room where Brooke was seated with Brandon.  “It’s been three days and he’s just now presenting this information?  How do we know he’s telling the truth?”

“He claims he was afraid to come forward.  He knows about the animosity between you and his former employer, and he feared that you would seek retribution if he told us what he saw.”

James sighed and looked in at Brooke, a terrified expression on her beautiful face.

“Gunnerson says he walked into the house and saw your wife kill him,” Baines continued.  “I’m sorry, James.  That’s as good a conviction as we’re going to get.  At least your son will be released.”

Nodding, James looked back in at Brooke again.  He knew it was over.  There was no use in hiding it anymore.

Minutes later, Detective Baines was in the interrogation room with Brooke and Brandon, listening intently as Brooke began to give her statement.

“Just relax, Mrs. Blackthorne,” Baines said.  “Tell me everything you remember.”

Brooke trembled nervously.  Her throat felt dry and she was dizzy.  The hours of waiting while Brandon grilled her about that night was torture.  Now she had to go through the whole thing again with the detective.

“I can’t remember what time it was exactly,” she began.  “I drove up the street and parked just outside the main gate.  When I got to the front door I knocked and waited for him to answer…”

Brooke reached up with a gloved hand and pushed the doorbell at the Thomerson estate.  She waited with remarkable patience, quietly placing her hands in the pockets of her black leather jacket.   Moments later, Will answered the door and smiled knowingly.

“This is a surprise,” he said, cocky as ever.  After a moment or two, he shrugged and stood clear of the door.  “Well come in.  We might as well get it out of the way.”

Brooke entered the house and Will closed the door, the sound of crickets chirping in the night…

“And then what happened?” Baines asked.

Brooke struggled to remember the events of that evening.  It was all so blurry in her mind now.  Everything happened so fast. 

“I went inside and we started arguing,” she said.  “I told him that I knew he’d kidnapped my son and that if he didn’t give him back he’d be sorry…"

“You can’t not know what kind of man your husband is,” Will said, taunting Brooke relentlessly as they circled one another in the parlor room of his estate.  “He uses people and manipulates people and then he claims that he’s been wronged when something bad happens to him.  Whatever your husband gets, he deserves.”

“But taking a child away from his mother and father is horrible,” Brooke said.  “You must know that.  No matter what crimes you think James has committed against you…”

“There’s been more than I can think of,” Will cut her off, fidgeting with the buttons of his smoking jacket.  “And do you want to know what the worst one of all is?  Do you?”

Brooke cringed at the harsh sound in his voice.  The way his eyes bore into her gave her the chills.  She looked away instinctively, catching a glimpse of something on the floor beneath an old antique chair.  Shiny and metal.   It was a gun.  James’s gun.

“Your husband kept my son from me for his entire life,” Will announced.  “For twenty-eight years I had no idea that he existed.”

Brooke’s eyes flashed back toward him in surprise.  “Ethan?” she whispered knowingly.  She didn’t even need him to confirm it.  She knew it was true just by the sound in his voice. 

“Yes, Ethan is my son,” Will said, his eyes wide and threatening.  “Your loving husband whom you claim is such a paragon of virtue, has done his damnedest to hide that from us all this time.  He never even told you, his adoring wife the truth, did he?  You look just as surprised as I was when I found out.”

“But James must have had his reasons for keeping the truth from you.”

“His own selfish reasons,” Will claimed, then stopped and looked at her with an eerie calm.  “So of course I had to pay him back for that.  It’s only fair, don’t you think?  I had my son taken away from me, and now James has had his son taken away from him.”

“That’s insane,” Brooke whispered in horror.  “Do you honestly think that kidnapping our son would make a difference?  It isn’t going to get back any of the years that you lost with Ethan.  It isn’t going to make you a father to him.  It’s sick and twisted.”

“No, I think it’s justice,” Will claimed.  “And just think, in another twenty-eight years I might just decide to tell him who his parents are.  Then James will know what it’s like to have had a son grow up and know nothing about him.”

Brooke shook her head in despair, tears forming in her eyes and sending panic coursing through her veins.  “Give him back, you son of a bitch!” she yelled.  “I mean it!  Give my son back to me or you’ll be sorry!”

Will taunted her with a smug grin. “What are you going to do?   There’s no proof so calling the police won’t get you anywhere.  I’m sorry to say, Mrs. Blackthorne, that you’ll have a long wait before you see your son again.”

Trembling, Brooke glanced down to the gun beneath the chair.  James must have dropped it the night before when he went there to confront Will.  She lunged forward, dropping to her knees and grabbing it firmly in her hand.   Before Will could stop her, she spun around and held it directly at him, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

“This is rich,” he said with a grin.  “First your husband and now you.  Somehow I don’t think you’ll have the nerve to pull the trigger either.”

Brooke clenched her teeth, aiming the gun at him and backing him up against the wall beside the fireplace.  “Don’t test me,” she said.  “Even if you’re dead we can still find him.  Somebody has to have him, and for the right amount of money I know they’ll come forward.  My husband is a wealthy man!”

The smile on Will’s face faded and he looked at her and the determination that he saw in her eyes.   Swallowing hard, he raced forward to get the gun from her.  They struggled and she pushed him away, sending him staggering back against the wall.  Before he could come at her again, she pulled the trigger and closed her eyes when the shot rang out loudly.   A few seconds later, she opened her eyes and saw him slump to the floor, motionless.  She dropped the gun and backed up a step, staring in horror at the body laying at her feet…

“After that I panicked and ran out of the house.  I went back to my car and drove around for a while before going home,” Brooke explained, tears falling down her face.  “I don’t know what happened, I just couldn’t think straight and I pulled the trigger.  I was so angry and upset.  I wanted to make him pay for the hell that he’d put us through.”

Baines scratched his head and reviewed his notes.  “There’s one thing I don’t understand,” he said.  “Your stepson claims he was in that room, unconscious, because when he woke up, Will Thomerson was dead on the floor.   Did you see Stormy in the room when you were there?”

Brooke squinted, trying to remember the foggy events of that evening.  “I don’t know,” she said.  “He might have been there.  I just don’t remember.  I was so upset that the only thing I could focus on was that man’s evil face.”

James paced the waiting room outside, glancing down at Miranda who wrung her hands together nervously.  “What’s taking so long?” he asked.   “They’ve been in there over an hour!”

“Daddy, just calm down,” Miranda said.   She walked up to him and put her hand on his in an effort to comfort him.  “I want you to tell me what you remember about that night.”

James looked away in a daze, recalling the panic he felt when Brooke showed up back at the house after leaving Will’s…

“I killed him,” she cried, sobbing uncontrollably as they stood in the study.  “I found your gun and I shot him.   James, what am I going to do?”

"Shhh,” James said, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her forcefully.  “Tell me what happened.”

“He admitted that he took Michael because you kept Ethan from him,” she cried.  “He was gloating and smiling about it so I took the gun and I shot him.  James, I’m so sorry.  I killed him and now we’ll never find Michael….”   

“I tried to calm her down but I knew it was useless.  I had to get over to the house and find the gun before someone else did.  When I arrived, Ethan was there,” James explained to his daughter….

“He’s dead,” Ethan said, kneeling over the body and soaking the sleeve of his jacket in blood.  “Somebody shot him.”

“It was Brooke,” James said, staring with wide eyes at the corpse of his nemesis.  “He admitted to her that he kidnapped Michael and she shot him.”

Ethan’s eyes widened and he quickly went to work at tearing the study apart.

“What are you doing?” James asked.  “Ethan, don’t touch anything.”

“I worked with him,” he said, pulling open drawers and emptying them out onto the desk.  “They won’t think twice if they find my prints in here.  I’ve got to find something that can tell us where Michael is.  He had to have kept notes or contracts or something!”

James wiped his face with the palm of his hand and glanced back down at the body again.  He picked up the gun, wrapping it in a handkerchief and placing it gently in his jacket pocket.  When he stood back to his feet, he looked over and saw Ethan frantically searching through drawers and files.

“Did you find anything?” he asked.

Ethan shook his head as he continued turning the office to shambles.  He lifted a drawer out of a filing cabinet and dumped the contents onto the floor, reaching his hand behind the drawer and examining the back.   To his surprise, a file was taped to the back panel of the drawer.

Quickly, he peeled it off and ripped it open, reviewing the information inside and realizing that he’d found what he needed.

“What is it?” James asked.

Ethan stuffed the piece of paper into his pocket and race to the door.  “Just get out of here and take care of Brooke,” he said.  “I have to go.”

“Ethan!” James called after him.

But Ethan was already bolting out the door.   James looked around the crime scene once more, making sure nothing had been left behind that could incriminate Brooke…

“Then I went home and found Brooke in our bedroom,” James continued.

“And Ethan?” Miranda asked in suspense.  “Where is he now?  Did he find something that could help us find Michael?”

James shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I haven’t heard from him since that night.”

Just then, Detective Baines emerged from the back with Brandon.  They walked over to James and looked at him solemnly.

“She confessed to everything,” Brandon announced.  “They’ve placed her under arrest and they’ll be charging her with murder.  Stormy should be released in just a little while.”

Defeated, James buried his face in his hands.

The guard led Brooke down the corridor and paused at the last cell block.   She unlocked the door and ushered her inside, the keys clanging against the bars as she locked it again.  Brooke looked around at her cold, concrete surroundings and wept in utter desolation.  How had she ended up here?  Her baby boy was gone, James had no idea that he wasn’t the father, and now she was being charged with murder.  So much had gone wrong in such a short amount of time.

Minutes later, James was led down the hall to her cell.  He looked in through the cold metal bars and his heart sank at the sight of his wife locked up like a common criminal.

“Oh James!” she cried, rushing up to the bars and sobbing miserably.  “I’m so sorry.  I’m sorry that this happened.  It’s all my fault.”

“Shhh,” James said in a soothing tone, reaching through the bars and holding her hand tightly in his.  “Don’t say that, Darling.  It’s not your fault.  I should have seen how upset you were.  I was too busy to know how much you needed me.”

Brooke shook her head, tears flooding her eyes.  “I was just so angry.  You didn’t see the look on his face.  He was so proud of himself for taking Michael away from us.”

The reality of what Brooke had been through finally sinking in, James squeezed her hand even tighter, heartbroken by the whole thing.  “You only did what your heart told you to do.”

Closing her eyes, Brooke looked down at the floor for a minute and then back up at James.  “You know…I don’t feel bad for Will at all.  The only thing I care about is that we may never find Michael.  James, what if we never see our son again?”

James looked into her eyes, unable to give her an answer.

Across town at Joel Armitage’s house in Burbank, Ethan sat behind the wheel of his Mercedes, watching the house and waiting for someone to come outside. 

Finally, the door opened and Missy Armitage emerged, pushing the baby in his stroller.  She set it down on the bottom step and began pushing it merrily along the sidewalk.  Ethan quickly jumped out of the car and watched with wide eyes.    When the baby turned its head and looked at him, he knew immediately that he was looking at his son.