Previously…

Jordan beat up Frank Dunning to warn him to keep quiet about what he thought he knew about Suzanne’s disappearance. Alex moved out of her and Jordan’s house, fearful of his temper and believing that he’d killed Suzanne.  After kidnapping Suzanne and Heather on his yacht, Victor was set on fire and jumped overboard, presumably dead. Suzanne was arrested for the murder of Troy Beauchamp.  Benji lashed out at Jordan and Suzanne for their lies and deceit.  After learning Scott Kelly may have given him an STD, Benji beat him up with a baseball bat, transferring his rage against his family.  Renee was reacquainted with T.T. Levitt, a man she’d had a brief fling with while on a Mediterranean cruise twenty-five years earlier.  When she’d learned he had a fiancé, she’d left the ship and told him she never wanted to see him again.  Miranda and Brooke had a heartfelt exchange at Stormy’s wedding.  Miranda lashed out at everyone, including Eddie, unable to cope with her burns.  

---

The blanket of fog burned off when the sun rose that morning.  Blue sky and minimal smog settled over Los Angeles which seemed to cast a sense of renewal over much of the city.  Brooke Taylor felt it as she packed her four-year old son into his car seat and headed out for the day.  Despite Ethan’s death, she was determined to remain positive.  She had many plans for the rest of her life, and today was the day she was going to start putting those plans in place.  Sadness remained over the loss of her soul mate, but she’d decided to use her feelings for something better.  Ethan would guide her along the way.

She parked under the porte-cochere at the Blackthorne mansion, took Michael’s hand, and led him inside.  He chewed on a plush pig and pointed to a purple rock on the ground in wonderment.

Leilani directed her to the solarium where James, Stormy and Renee were eating breakfast, shards of sunlight filtering in through the shades.  They entered and Michael immediately pronounced his excitement.

“Hi!” he yelled, stuffed pig ear still clamped between his teeth.

With a smile, James got up and knelt down beside him.  “Hi, how are you today?”

“Fine!” Michael replied and thrust the toy at him.  “Piggy!”

“Yes, that’s a fine looking pig,” James said and gave the young boy a tight squeeze.  He ruffled his shock of blonde hair and stood up to greet Brooke.  “How are you?”

“I’m well,” she replied with a smile.

“Brooke, you look positively radiant,” Renee said.  She stood up from her grapefruit and pulled her into a warm embrace.  “How was your night?”

Sucking in a deep breath, Brooke watched as Michael darted off and jumped onto Stormy’s lap.   “It was hard,” she admitted unapologetically.  “But I think it will get better.”

“I know it will,” James told her with certainty.

“One day at a time,” Renee agreed, holding her hand tightly.

Brooke managed a smile again and looked to the doorway.  “Where’s Miranda?” she asked.

“Upstairs getting ready,” James replied.  “Dr. Gutman arrived from Miami early this morning.  We have to be at the hospital in an hour.”

“How is she?” Brooke asked.

James sighed and dug his hands into the pockets of his suit trousers.  “I don’t know.  I thought she’d be excited to get the surgery over with, but she just seems distant.”

“Can I go up and see her?” Brooke asked.

James’s eyebrows rose in relation to his surprise.  “Sure.”

She checked to make sure Michael wasn’t being a bother before turning and heading through the foyer to the staircase.  After she’d gone, James turned back and continued his report on Victor’s breakdown and Suzanne’s return.

“So anyway, that’s all I know.  I guess Eddie and Blake are taking the whole thing pretty hard.”

“I should go see them,” Stormy said sympathetically.  “God, they seemed like they were happy.  I mean, I know it was hard for Eddie when his mom left, but he never really led on that Victor was crazy.”

“I don’t think he knew the extent to his madness, son,” James offered.  “No one did.”

Renee shook her head in a thoughtful daze.  “I can’t believe Suzanne has been in a clinic in Switzerland all this time,” she exclaimed.  “Jordan kept it such a secret from everyone.  I honestly thought she was dead.  I mean, I never believed he’d killed her, but I knew something was terribly wrong.”

“I just worry about how this is all going to affect Heather and Benji,” James said distantly.  “Heather’s been through so much already.”

Stormy looked down at Michael who merrily nibbled on a piece of dry toast.  He thought back to when he and Heather were together.  Since they began dating in the ninth grade, all he ever knew was that Suzanne had left them without a word.  It had been a constant source of insecurity for Heather, but nothing that she expressed with her feelings very often.  Much of the time it was a closed subject.   Now he realized it was probably because she couldn’t remember why she left.  She’d been traumatized by what she’d seen that night.

“What about the charges against Suzanne?” Renee inquired.  “Surely they can’t try her for something that she had no control over.”

“Are you forgetting who runs this city?” James reminded her.  “I have my doubts whether the DA is going to buy the story about Victor hypnotizing her into doing his dirty work.  And don’t forget about the charges against Jordan.  He was the one who buried the man.”

“Suzanne can’t go to prison,” Renee admonished.  “Not now that she’s finally come back.  Her children will be crushed.  Isn’t there anything they can do to prove that Victor was behind all of this?”

“They’re getting a statement from Victor’s psychiatrist.  Brett said that they’re hoping that will help their case.”

Renee sat back down in her seat and glanced across the table at Michael.  “This is all so awful,” she said.  “Jordan and his family have been through enough without having to worry about prison time.”

---

Upstairs, Miranda flitted about her bedroom, pulling clothes from her closet and laying them neatly on her bed.  A knock at the door alerted her to a visitor.  She mumbled a muffled response and turned just as Brooke entered.

“Oh, hi,” Miranda said, touching one side of her face to ensure the bandages were still in place.

“Hi, what are you doing?” Brooke asked as she ambled into the room.  “Going somewhere?”

Miranda shook her head, neatly folding a cashmere camisole and adding it to a pile on the bed.  “No, just been meaning to get rid of some things.  I can’t see myself wearing some of this stuff anymore.”

Brooke’s eyes landed on a black Chanel dress slung over the headboard.  “This used to be your favorite dress,” she said and went to pick it up.  “I remember when you bought it.  Your father about had a heart attack when he saw how short it was.  Why are you getting rid of it?”

Miranda didn’t answer.  She continued folding an assortment of blouses until she’d amassed a stack that threatened to topple over.   She decided to change the subject instead.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk to you much at Ethan’s service,” she said.  “How are you holding up?”

Brooke shrugged and sat down next to a pile of sweaters.  “Okay, I guess.  I’m determined not to let this end my life.”

Miranda shook her head with a meek smile.

“What?” Brooke asked of her reaction.

“Nothing, just that you constantly amaze me,” Miranda explained.  “I don’t know anyone who’s had to start over as often as you have.  How do you keep going?”

Brooke ran her hand over a soft angora sweater before she added it to the pile.  “What’s the alternative?” she asked whimsically.

“Yeah, but how do you do it?”

Pushing a lock of blond hair from her eyes, she picked up another sweater and neatly folded it before her.  “You turn off the lights and then you wake up in the morning and you try again.”

Miranda laughed.  “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not.  It’s not easy.  But I have a son who I have to protect and who I have to be strong for.  I can’t risk falling apart.  Not anymore.”

Sighing, Miranda neatly placed a few items into a box on the floor.  “I don’t really have anything to be strong for.  I mean, who would care if I wasn’t myself anymore?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what am I even doing with my life?” Miranda asked, tears forming in her eyes.  “Hotel Terranova is gone, I have no one in my life, and there isn’t really anything that I’m passionate about.  My looks are all I’ve ever had.  Now that’s gone.”

“That is not true,” Brooke snapped and reached for her hand.  “You have a hell of a lot more to offer than just a beautiful face. “

She laughed again, wiping away the tears.  “Come on, Brooke.  Girls like me are a dime a dozen in this town.  You know that as well as I do.”

“Funny, the same thing’s been said about me.”

Miranda knew what she was getting at.  “I would have never expected this from you,” she said.  “I’ve never exactly given you a reason to see anything good in me.”

Brooke shrugged.  “No, you haven’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see it.  You are an intelligent woman.  Look at what you accomplished with Hotel Terranova.  That place was on the verge of bankruptcy before you took it over.”

Miranda rolled her eyes.  “So I know my way around fabric samples and bed linens,” she said in a mocking tone.  “Big deal.”

“It is a big deal.  And so is your devotion to your family.  Look at the way you fought to prove that your father and I weren’t meant to be together.  And you know what?  You were right.  We weren’t good for each other.  You knew that because you know him and you love him more than anything.  Miranda, you are one of the most loving people I’ve ever known.  It takes a lot more than designer clothes and makeup to pull that off.”

Miranda looked down at the clothes and pondered Brooke’s testament.  She didn’t necessarily see the things that she saw but maybe she was wrong for acting out. 

“And throwing out these clothes isn’t going to change who you are,” Brooke continued knowingly.  “You’re having surgery this morning and when it’s done you’ll have your old outlook back.”

“And what if they can’t fix my face?  I don’t want to be wearing these beautiful clothes when I’m a hideous freak.  It’d be like putting an elevator in an outhouse.”

Brooke stopped her from piling anymore clothes into the box.  “Wait and see what happens before you go doing anything drastic.” 

Miranda lowered her arms and watched as Brooke went to the door.  After she’d left, she picked up the black Chanel dress and held it out in front of her.  Quietly, she placed it back in the closet on its hanger.

In the hallway, Brooke ran into James who approached from the staircase.

“How is she?” he asked. 

“Scared.  She’s dealing with a lot more than a few burns.”

James regarded her carefully.  “What do you mean?”

She shrugged.  “I think even if this surgery is a success, she’ll never be the same Miranda again.”

He contemplated her words while they exchanged goodbyes.  Once Brooke was gone, he went into Miranda’s bedroom and forced himself to put on a positive face.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

Miranda nodded, tucked her hair into her sweatshirt and followed him to the door.

---

Jordan paced the waiting room at the police station, glancing down the hall a dozen times before finally sitting down and busying himself with emails that came through on his Blackberry.  When Kenny finally approached, he jumped up from his seat and intercepted him in the hallway.

“What did the judge say?”

Kenny replied with a tell-tale shake of his head.  “No bail.”

“What?” Jordan demanded.  “That’s ridiculous.  There’s no reason why she can’t get out on bail.  I’ll pay whatever it takes.”

“She fled the country once and the judge thinks she could do it again.”

“I took her out of the country,” Jordan clarified, pointing to his chest insistently.  “She had no idea what was happening to her.”

“Which doesn’t exactly bode well for your case either.  They’ve got her for second degree murder and you for abuse of a corpse.”

Jordan rubbed his face with his hands.  “Do you have any good news, Kenny?” he asked wryly.

“Actually, yes.  I did manage to get the DA to reconsider charging Heather with shooting Brett.”  He raised an eyebrow and attempted a smirk before adding, “somehow the gun has gone missing.”

At least there was some good news, Jordan thought.  He was suddenly glad he buried the gun before the police got involved.  The last thing they needed was Heather taking on any more of this than she already had. 

“So what’s next?” he asked.   “A trial?  That’s just great.  Maybe we can get a two-for-one deal and save the taxpayers some money.  Hell, maybe they’ll let Suzanne and I share a cell.  We were married once.  It’ll be just like old times.”

“It might not come to that,” Kenny said, holding up his hand in protest.  “Dr. Madison is meeting with the DA as we speak.  If he can convince them that Victor was insane and that this hypnosis thing is real, then maybe they’ll go easy on Suzanne.”

“Is that our only hope?”

“If they think there’s enough evidence to investigate further, then they’ll search his house and his assets.  If they do that then they’ll probably—”

“-find the disguises,” Jordan finished.  “And maybe even the paperwork for the office he rented when he pretended to be Anderson.”

Kenny shrugged.  “That’s the best case scenario.”

Jordan finally saw a ray of light in all of this.  Maybe it wasn’t as impossible a situation as he’d imagined.  If they could square away their legal troubles, then they’d have to start dealing with the bigger issue: repairing Heather and Benji’s lives. 

---

Brett was standing on the balcony at home, stretching after his five mile run that morning.  He put his leg up onto the railing and leaned in until he felt his muscles relax.  He repeated the cool down on the other leg and then grabbed his bottle of water from the patio table.

He heard Violet crying inside the condo.  Grabbing his shirt and tucking it into the back of his shorts, he headed back inside.  When he entered the living room, Heather was holding their infant in her arms, cradling her back and forth. 

“Good morning,” she said with a smile. 

Brett dabbed the sweat from his bare chest with a towel.  “Good morning,” he said with a smile.  He looked at her and at Violet and suddenly felt that things were finally right again.  As right as they could be in light of everything that had happened. 

“Did you go running?” Heather asked, setting Violet back in her bassinette.  “I didn’t even hear you get up.”

“I wanted you to sleep in and get some rest.”  He walked over and kissed them each on the forehead.  “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” she replied, rubbing her wrists.  “How is your shoulder?”

“It’s not bad, honestly.  Just a flesh wound.”

“You must hate me,” Heather said softly.  “I’m your wife.  How could I have done that to you?”

Brett took her hand and led her to the sofa.  “So you do remember what happened?”

She paused for a moment and then nodded her head.  “Yes.  I remember sitting in a cabin at the Yacht Club.  I was with Dr. Anderson.”  She trailed of and recalled hazy images from that night. 

The look in her eyes frightened Brett.  He quickly reached over and shook her firmly. 

She jumped, startled by his sudden actions. 

He relaxed, cursing himself for being so paranoid.  Would he wonder if she was still under Victor’s control every time she looked unfocused and distant?  How would he ever learn to let go of the fear?

“I’m sorry.  Go on.”

“I remember he took off his beard,” she explained.  “And a wig.  He was wearing a mask; like a rubber mask or something.  I remember when he took it off I was surprised because he looked just like Victor Distefano.”

“That’s because he was Victor,” Brett said, placing his hand on hers.  “He was out of his mind.”

She got up and walked across the room.  Wrapping her arms around herself, she turned back to him when tears began forming in her hazel eyes.  Brett immediately jumped to his feet and raced toward her.

“Why me?” she asked.  “I mean why me?  What did I do?”

Brett took a deep breath.  He decided not to hold anything back.  She had to know the truth.  The secrets and lies were what hurt her in the first place.  Jordan may not approve, but he was going to tell her everything.

“You didn’t do anything,” Brett explained.  “He was after your father.”

---

Head pounding, muscles aching, mouth sticky, Benji slowly opened his eyes to an assault of sunlight bearing down through the windows.  His cell phone was ringing somewhere but he didn’t have the energy to locate it.  He pulled the pillow over his head to drown out the sounds but it didn’t work.  Finally, the ringing stopped and he was able to open his bloodshot eyes again. 

After a few excruciating minutes of trying to remember where he was and how he got there, he sat up and realized he was on the sofa in Van Edgewater’s place in Studio City.  How he got there was a mystery.  He could barely remember a thing about the night before.

Sitting up, he scratched his bare chest and flipped open his phone to see three missed calls, all from his father.  He groaned with irritation and clipped it shut again.  He suddenly remembered everything.  The drama at the marina, his rendezvous with Summer in the ally next to Area, and his brutal attack on Scott Kelly. 

He closed his eyes and rubbed his face.  He remembered driving to Van’s place and asking if he could crash there.  After telling him about his Chlamydia scare, Van offered up a quick solution in the form of Azithromycin, a single dose antibiotic that would cure the unpleasant disease if he’d in fact gotten it from Scott.   Since Van was in med school, he’d proved to be a valuable acquaintance most of the time.  Blake’s botched stitches following the accidental gunshot wound notwithstanding. 

When he stood up from the sofa, his eyes traveled to the backyard swimming pool where Van was floating atop an inflatable raft.  He slid open the glass door and proceeded outside.  Sunlight again did its best to mess with his eyes.  The pool was surrounded by a fence and an overgrowth of shrubs and plants.  A radio played in the distance—some old 80’s station.

“Hey Rydell!” Van called from the raft, drink in hand.  “Come on in!”

Benji didn’t hesitate.  He dove into the pool in his boxers, letting the cool water refresh his skin.  By the time he bobbed to the surface he felt a million times better. 

“Some night you had last night huh?” Van asked, blond hair perfectly styled and his brown skin glistening with suntan oil.  “Dude, you were in sorry shape when you showed up here.”  He took a hit from a marijuana pipe and handed it to him. 

“Yeah,” was Benji’s vague reply as he took his turn. 

“That Azithromycin should do the trick,” Van went on.  “Knocks out that nasty stuff in one punch.  Who’d you get it from anyway?”

“Who knows,” Benji replied, staring up at the sky and squinting in the bright sun.  He realized it was quite possible that if he did have the clap, he would have passed it on to Summer last night.  Better her than someone like Sierra.  He would never be as careless as to put her in any kind of risk.  Of course that would mean she would have to dump that loser Malcolm long enough to make it happen, and that didn’t seem very likely to him.

“Well you can relax, bro.  Spend all day here if you want.  It’s paradise at Van’s hacienda.”

Benji cracked a smile and pulled himself up onto the pool ledge.  Just as he did, his eyes skimmed across the newspaper that rested on a poolside table next to a pitcher of orange juice and a bottle of vodka.  He noticed a story on the lower half of the page, complete with his mother’s picture. 

Actress’s Disappearance Ends in Arrest Related to Murder Charges

He picked up the paper and unfolded it so he could get a better view of the story.  After reading through a few lines, he hastily hurled the paper into the pool, watching as it floated on the surface.

“Stocks take a dive?” Van asked with a wiseacre smile.

Benji groaned and lay down on the pool deck, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hands.  The newspaper traveled across the pool before it started sinking.  Another article faced upwards to the sky, this one depicting a headline that Benji already had first hand knowledge of. 

Actor Scott Kelly hospitalized after Random Beating

---

While she waited for James and Miranda to arrive at the hospital, Alex got wind of Scott Kelly’s horrifying ordeal.  She sought him out in the intensive care unit and inquired about him with Dr. Farraday.

“What happened?” she asked, staring in through the window to his room.  She grimaced at the swollen bruises on his face and the bloody bandages covering his head.

“Police don’t have any leads,” Dr. Farraday replied.  “But someone really did a number on him.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

He replied with a confident nod of his head.  “Physically, yes.  He has some broken ribs that will heal in time.  But we won’t know if there’s been any brain damage until he’s strong enough to undergo a CT scan.”

“God, who would do this to him?” Alex whispered under her breath.  When she thought of how close they’d been during the filming of Angel Assassin 2 she was suddenly overcome with feelings of sadness.  Seeing him lying there reminded her of this same situation just a few months ago when Jordan put Frank in the hospital as a result of his vicious attack on him.  That had been the start of her distrusting her husband.

She made her way back to the other side of the hospital where she waited for Miranda and James.  After getting a terrible cup of coffee from a vending machine, she sat down and paged through the morning edition of the L.A. Times.  When she came to the page with Suzanne’s picture on the front, she clumsily tipped her cup until hot coffee was burning her leg. 

Quickly, she sprung to her feet, patting the area where she’d been scalded.  Once she’d sufficiently gotten over the initial shock of the news, she continued reading the rest of the story. 

“Oh my god,” she whispered.  The article didn’t give many details, only summarizing Suzanne’s mysterious disappearance in 1996, then her equally as mysterious return and subsequent arrest for Troy’s murder.

Desperate for more answers, she reached for her cell phone.  Just as she started to dial, James, Stormy and Miranda arrived.  She decided to put Jordan on hold for the time being.  Her daughter needed her more than anything.

She greeted Miranda with a warm embrace, then went to say hello to Stormy who again turned his back on her.  She was beginning to think he would never forgive her for her efforts in trying to get Kelly out of his life.  Sooner or later they would have to discuss it, but for now her main concern was her daughter.

“Now, I don’t want you to be scared,” she said while James got her checked in.  “Dr. Gutman is the best in the world.  No one is a more experienced plastic surgeon.”

“I appreciate that, but my fee isn’t negotiable,” said a voice from behind.

They turned as Dr. Murray Gutman appeared.  He was a stout middle aged man with wire rim glasses and a shock of salt and pepper hair.  He smiled at his joke and extended his hand to Miranda.

“You must be Miranda,” he said.  “I’m Dr. Gutman.”

“Hello,” Miranda replied quietly.

James approached and shook the doctor’s hand.  “Dr. Gutman, thank you so much for flying up.  I know how crazy your patient load is right now.”

“My pleasure.  I’ve studied the photographs that Dr. Farraday sent and I think we’ll be able to get that beautiful face looking flawless again.  Why don’t we go into the consultation room and we can discuss in more detail before the surgery.”

Miranda looked at her mother and father blankly, tentatively following the doctor into the room and staring with terror at the horrifying pictures of her face that were spread out on the conference table.  There were red drawings all over them, a blueprint that eerily represented what was going to take place during the surgery.

---

Back at the Blackthorne mansion, the doorbell rang and Leilani scurried over to open it.   Renee was coming down the stairs when she heard T.T.’s voice.  With a deep sigh, she paused on the landing and called over to the door.

“What is it, T.T.?” she asked and sauntered over to him.  She wore a cream pantsuit and red stilettos, her lustrous black hair pinned neatly off of her shoulders.  “I have a lot to do today.”

“Then I guess I should have called first,” he countered with a grin.

“Yes, that’s right.”  She flung a silk scarf around her neck and looked at him in a bold and haughty manner.  “Sierra and I are meeting for lunch and then I have to see an old friend.”

“Well, then I guess I’d better let you get to it.”

She was surprised by the ease with which he let it go.  “That would be nice because as I’ve said, T.T., there is nothing between us.  I wish you would stop coming around and imposing yourself on me.”

He started laughing—a slight chuckle at first—then erupting into full blown boisterous hysteria.  Doubled over, he held onto his stomach as if in pain.  Renee’s eyes narrowed angrily on him and she planted her hands firmly on her hips.

“What is so damn funny?” she asked. 

T.T. struggled to catch his breath between bouts of raucous laughter.  Finally he was able to put enough words together to form a sentence.  “You haven’t changed, Renee.  Still the same self important woman I knew all those years ago.”

“I beg your pardon.  I am not self-important.”

He shook his head and looked at her adoringly.  “I came to see James.  We still need to narrow down details on our deal.  I was hoping I would catch him at home this morning.”

Suddenly Renee felt foolish.  She hid it well, however, quickly revealing the personal matters of Miranda’s surgery.  “He’s at the hospital with his daughter.   I’m sure he must have mentioned that to you.”

Laughter fading, T.T. shrugged and stepped toward her.  “Well, I should have called ahead first.  For James,” he couldn’t resist adding.  “But since I’m here why don’t we talk?”

“T.T., I’ve told you we have nothing to talk about.”

Before she could say anything word, he lurched forward, placed his hands alongside her face and kissed her deeply and passionately.  She resisted at first, struggling to pry herself away from him, but couldn’t help give in a little.  When his hands slipped down to her waist she decided it had gone too far.  Taking his hands and shoving him away, she glared angrily and stormed off down the hall to the newly completed west wing.

Stomping into the conservatory, she picked up a pillow from the sofa and threw it across the room in frustration.  She didn’t know how she’d let him get to her again, but she had.  After Nathan and Kenny and Jordan, she had vowed to never let her guard down again.  She was through being used and treated badly by men.  T.T. had been no exception and she wasn’t about to forget that. 

“You haven’t lost that fire,” he said when he followed her into the room.

“T.T., would you just leave!” Renee screamed in his direction.  “I told you that I want nothing to do with you.  You lied to me on that cruise ship.  You said you loved me and the whole time you had a fiancé waiting for you at home.”

“I was young and I was impetuous,” T.T. said unapologetically.   “I won’t say that I regret what I did.  I loved every minute of those two weeks we spent together.”  He lifted his hand and stroked the side of her face.  “I thought about you so often since then.”

She quickly snapped his hand away.  “Yet you still felt obliged to marry Julia when you got back to shore.  I guess our romance at sea wasn’t all that memorable.”

“That’s not true,” he said and drew closer.  Taking her hands in his, he kissed them delicately.  “I remember everything we did on that cruise.”

Renee couldn’t help but smirk.  “Well, after the first few nights, we barely left your cabin.”

He returned the grin, placing his hands around her waist and pulling her close.  She knew his lips were dangerously close to hers but she didn’t care.  The kiss in the foyer took her back twenty-five years.  It was like it was yesterday.  He felt so comfortable to be with.  It felt right.

“You’re still the most exciting woman I’ve ever met,” T.T. said, pressing his lips against hers and taking in the intoxicating scent of her perfume.

Renee gave in.  She wrapped her arms around him and ran her fingers through his curly black hair.  She couldn’t get enough of the feel of his hands on her body.  He made her feel more alive than any man had in a very long time.

“Have dinner with me tonight,” he said when they broke from the kiss.

She nodded, weak in his arms.  “Okay.  I’ll have dinner with you.”

---

“How many surgeries will you have to do?” Alex asked.

“Only one,” Dr. Gutman replied.

Miranda looked surprised, feeling her father’s hand clasp around hers.  “So after today I’m done?” she asked.  “I’ll be normal again?”

“I said today was the only surgery,” the doctor explained.  “Today we’re fixing tissue and completed the skin grafting.  You’ll still have to undergo several laser treatments in the coming weeks and months until the scars disappear.”

“So you’re saying she could still have scarring after the surgery today?” Alex asked in sheer panic.  She clutched her chest and directed her eyes at James and Miranda.  “I thought you were so supposed to be the best there is.”

James rolled his eyes.  “Alex, stop,” he cautioned her.  He knew where this was leading and he was in no mood for her diva antics.  They were lucky to have Dr. Gutman at all.  He was the most requested plastic surgeon in the world and he’d agreed to take time out of his schedule to fly to Los Angeles.  He’d be damned if he’d let Alex ruin it.

“I’m only asking because we’re paying a lot of money and if she’s not going to be perfect then I—”

“Would you please just shut up and let the doctor continue?” he demanded.

Reeling from his insensitive tone, Alex quietly folded her hands in her lap and pursed her lips into a pout. 

“As I was saying,” Dr. Gutman continued, “there will be some bruising from the surgery but she should heal rather quickly.  The remaining scars will be addressed, but it will take time.”

Miranda swallowed hard.  It sounded like it would be months before she looked the same again, if ever.

“Do you have any questions?” he asked her.

She shook her head solemnly.

“Good.  The operating room is ready, so why don’t we get started?”

Miranda stood up and followed him to the door.

“We’ll be right here when you get done,” James said and kissed her on the forehead.

“We love you, darling,” Alex added, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly.

Slowly Miranda left the office with Dr. Gutman.  After she’d gone, James turned to Alex and leveled a look of disgust at her.

“What the hell were you trying to do?” he demanded.  “We need him and you’re acting like he’s a hair stylist who gave you a bad dye job.”

Alex didn’t even attempt to dispute the fact that she colored her hair.  She absolutely did not.   Instead, she went right for the punch.  “Is there something wrong with me wanting the very best for our daughter?  You know how important her looks are to her.  She’s always prided herself on her appearance.  She takes after her mother in that respect, you know.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” James said with an embittered chortle.  “She’s too much like you, Alex.”

“What does that supposed to mean?  I am a very good influence on our children.”

“Oh, sure you are,” he railed against her.  “Our son isn’t even speaking to you.  He can’t stand being in the same room with you for more than two seconds.  And now our daughter is so lost because her whole life she’s felt like she has nothing to offer but a pretty face.  So yes, good job on influencing our children.  You’re sure to be the mother of the year.”

“Don’t you be so sanctimonious with me,” Alex growled.  “You haven’t exactly inspired her to do anything else with her life.  She went to college for a year and then dropped out and you didn’t bother to try to get her to reconsider.  She married Brett Armstrong and you just let it go, knowing full well he was a con man that would hurt her.”

“I’ve done nothing but give our children every opportunity!  You were the one who spoiled them their entire lives!”

“That’s because you were never around!” Alex screamed.  “I had to do something to make up for their absentee father while you were off on location six months out of the year!”

“But did you have to impress such superficial qualities in them?  My god, Alex, Miranda knew how to spell Gucci and Dolce before she could spell her own name.”

Shaking her head, Alex darted to the door and pulled it open.  “I’m not going to let you dump this all on me.  I am not to blame for any of this and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you poison our children’s minds against me.”

He flinched when she slammed the door behind her.  The truth was Alex was on the road to doing that all by herself. 

---

The guard let Suzanne into the private visitation room where Jordan sat impatiently.  He heard the rattling of keys and the sound of the door opening and quickly jumped to his feet.

“Five minutes,” the guard said before closing the door and locking it securely behind.   “Your lawyer’s on his way.”

Once they were alone, Jordan sat her down in a chair across the conference table.  “How are you?” he asked.  “I’m sorry that you’re still in here.  The judge denied bail.”

“I don’t care.  I just want this whole thing cleared up,” Suzanne replied softly, her long chestnut hair flat and listless.  “It’s gone on far too long.  When I think of everything you’ve sacrificed for me…”

“It was for all of us,” Jordan reassured her.  “I did it for Heather and Benji as much as anyone.  I wanted to protect them.”

“God, what they must think of me,” Suzanne wept silently.  “Heather saw me kill Troy with her own eyes.  Benji saw the blood on the floor…the tire iron….  How will they ever get past this?  It’s tortured them for their whole lives.”

“It’s my fault,” Jordan declared, looking into her green eyes.  “I should have told them the truth years ago.  I sent Benji away and I refused to talk about you to Heather.  I thought I was helping them but I only wound up hurting them in the long run.”

“I should have come back a long time ago,” she said, her tone laced with regret.  “At least I could have explained to them before they started getting older.”

Suzanne felt as though she’d missed out on so much.  Jordan came to see her once and a while in Switzerland, presumably coinciding with his visits to Benji at boarding school.  Once she became lucid, he would always fill her in on what was happening in their lives, but it was no substitution.

“You weren’t ready,” Jordan reminded her.

“I was being selfish.  I wanted to leave you that night.  Once I was out from Wainwright’s control, I realized I didn’t want to come back.    How could I have been so selfish?”

“You’re not to blame,” Jordan insisted.  “It was my affair that started this whole thing.  It’s because of that that Victor went insane.  Or maybe he was already insane and the affair simply magnified it.  I don’t know.”

She traced her finger along the table and looked up at him through fearful eyes.  “Do you really think he’s dead?”

“I think so,” he said.  “Victor can’t hurt us again.  You have my word.”

Keys clanged again and the door opened.  When Kenny appeared, they both stood up in anticipation of his report.  By the look on his face, they could both tell the news wasn’t good. 

“What did the DA say?” Jordan asked.  “Did they interview Dr. Madison?”

Kenny nodded.  “Yes, but they still don’t have enough to convince them that Suzanne was acting in an altered state.  They think she was sleeping with Troy and that she killed him when he threatened to tell you, Jordan.”

“That’s a lie,” Suzanne lamented.  “I never slept with Troy!”

Jordan put his arm around her and pulled her close.   “So what now?  I suppose the DA won’t even authorize an investigation into Distefano.”

Kenny shook his head.

“Then I’ll do it myself,” Jordan lamented.

“It won’t be admissible,” Kenny warned him.  “They could say you planted whatever evidence you found.”

“What about Heather?” Suzanne asked.  “Victor did this to her too.  Can’t we have her talk to the DA?  If they’d believe that he hypnotized her then they should believe he hypnotized me!” 

Kenny shook his head.  “We could try, but I have to tell you I don’t hold out much hope.  Not in light of her recent behavior.”

“All right, so what are you saying, Kenny?” Jordan exploded into anger.  “That there’s nothing we can do?”  He waited only seconds for him to answer before he continued.  “There’s got to be something we can do!”

Suzanne sat down in her chair and buried her face in her hands.  She knew she should have never come back.  She was going to spend the rest of her life in jail, never able to make up her mistakes to her children.

---

“You look well,” David Jennings said as he and Brooke had lunch on the terrace dining room at Moonshadows.   “You seem like you’re handling things okay.  Is that it, or is this some kind of façade you’re putting on?”

She picked at her crab salad and shrugged.  “A little of both I guess,” was her easy reply.  “I don’t know.  I don’t want anyone thinking that I’m taking Ethan’s death lightly, but I just refuse to lie down and die just because he did.”

“That would be the easy route to go,” David said.  “I’m glad you’ve decided not to take the easy route.”

“Well, when I learned that Ethan left me all of his money, I knew that he would want me to do something with it.  Something that means something.”

David picked up a piece of paper that she’d brought to their meeting.  “Well based on this, I’d say you’re on the right track.”

Brooke eyed the proposal from her vantage point.   “What do you think?” she asked, stirring a packet of sweetener into her iced tea. 

“What do I think?” he asked, staring out at the Pacific for a few seconds before turning back to her.  “I think it’s going to hock a lot of people off.  So of course I love it,” he added with a devilish grin. 

“Well, I certainly don’t mean to hock anyone off, but I think this has a familiar ring to it.  It seems like fate that it turns out this way.”

David smiled and cut into his steak.  “I’m sure Ethan would be pleased.”

Growing anxious, she fidgeted in her seat and added another dose of sweetener to her drink.  “I just hope I’m doing the right thing.  I mean, Ethan never wanted to touch his father’s money.  He thought it was tainted.  What if he was right?  I mean, did you ever feel that way after your fa….our father died?”

He caught her slip-up and the hasty way she corrected herself.  Maybe it meant she was finally ready to come to terms with the fact that Royce Jennings was her father too.  Not that he would blame her if she didn’t.

“I had my own set of issues with Royce,” David claimed.  “He thought I was a goof-off.  I wasn’t serious enough for him.  When he died and left me his portfolio of hotels, I spent the first year terrified that I was going to disappoint him.  Isn’t that crazy?  He was dead and I was still worried about not measuring up to his standards.”

“I never knew him,” Brooke remarked.  “Other than when I was a little girl, but from where I sit I think he’d be proud.”

David grinned from ear to ear.  The fact that he had a sister and that they could talk about things like this was entirely new territory, and he loved it. 

“So do you think I should have Kenny draw up the papers?” Brooke asked, steering the subject back on track.

“Yes, I do,” he replied. 

---

Inside the main dining room, Renee met up with Sierra and Malcolm at their table.  She kissed her daughter on the cheek and smiled graciously at Malcolm who pulled her chair out for her.

“Thank you,” she said politely, resting her napkin in her lap.  “Sierra, I wish you would reconsider and come stay with me at the mansion.  There’s plenty of room, and as long as you’re going to be in town you might as well be comfortable.”

She rolled her eyes in amusement at her mother’s lack of subtlety.   “I am comfortable here, Mother,” she replied with a wink in Malcolm’s direction.  “I have my own suite next to Malcolm’s.  Besides, we’re only going to be here for another week.”

“Another week?” Renee asked in surprise.  “Sierra, I thought you would have decided to stay on for the summer.”

She laughed.  “I have to go back to New York.  I missed the last few weeks of the semester because of the earthquake and then everything else that’s gone on.  I’m lucky that my professors are letting me make it up in summer school.”

“Besides, we’re about to finish the final mix on Sierra’s demo,” Malcolm piped in.

“My, how exciting,” Renee said.  She decided not to push the issue.  She’d learned long ago that she couldn’t run her daughter’s life.  “Tell me, what happens once the demo is complete?”

“Then we try to get it on the radio,” Sierra said.  “Malcolm’s record company is small and isn’t as internationally known as his father’s, but he still has a lot of connections.”

“Well, I’m pleased,” Renee said and ordered a drink from the waiter when he passed.  “It really seems like this is going to happen for you, baby.  I couldn’t be prouder. And do you know who else would be proud of you? Your grandmother, Anne.”

“I hope so,” she said, shivering from Malcolm’s delicate touch when he placed his arm around her.  “But I’ll be back for a visit, Mom.  Summer school is only a few weeks.”

“Okay, I guess I can live with that.”  She accepted her drink from the server and they ordered their meals.  The waiter took their menus and left them again.  “So Malcolm, how long is your father going to be in town?” She was fishing, but hoped it didn’t seem that obvious to him. 

“As long as it takes to firm up this deal with Sunset Studios,” he replied.  “I didn’t think he’d be here this long.  He’s got associates back in New York waiting for him on some projects.”

“He’s probably eager to get things settled with James and Stormy,” Sierra suggested.

“Maybe, but he could do that from New York.”  His eyes met with Renee’s and his mouth turned upwards into a smile.  “I think something’s making him want to stick around.  Or someone.”

Renee intertwined her fingers, refusing to get too caught up in the possibility of T.T. staying in L.A. for her.  Yes, she was wild about him and was growing tired of denying it.  But she knew she needed to tread very carefully.  After last time she didn’t think she could stand another heartbreak. 

---

Jordan had no luck getting in touch with Benji.  He’d left him voicemail after voicemail but as of yet hadn’t heard a thing from him.  He decided to let him cool off before making a big production of it.  After all, it was a huge blow for him to learn that his mother was back, not to mention the events that led to her leaving in the first place.

Alex, on the other hand, had been calling him nonstop for two hours.  He finally decided to head over to the hospital not only to find out what she wanted, but also to check on Miranda.  

On his way into the crowded atrium, he bumped into Detective Callahan who happened to be leaving at the same time. 

“Mr. Rydell, what a surprise,” Stephanie said, her long ponytail tucked over her shoulder and her no-nonsense stance as standoffish as ever.  “You certainly get around, don’t you?  Didn’t I just see you at the police station?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” was his cool reply.  “What brings you down here?  Pillaging for criminals to meet your quota?”

She disregarded his sarcastic barb.  “Actually, I’m investigating an assault that happened last night,” she replied.  “And since you’re here, let me ask you something.   How well do you know Scott Kelly?”

Jordan shrugged.  “Not very.  He did a movie with my wife.  That’s about the extent of it.”

“Wasn’t there some scandal about your wife and Mr. Kelly having an affair?” Stephanie asked, her tone forever accusatory.  “I remember reading something about that in the papers not long ago.  That’s another difference between New York and L.A., by the way.  In New York the papers report on real news, not celebrity gossip.”  

He found her exasperating.  “If you hate it here so much, why don’t you go back to New York?”

The remark didn’t sit well with her.  She lost what little sense of humor had ever so slightly shown through, and glared contemptuously at him.

“Did your wife’s affair anger you?” she asked.

Jordan was suddenly confused.  “Wait, are we still talking about Alex and Scott Kelly?  Or is this your way of insinuating there’s something more to my brother’s murder.  Because I gotta tell you, I don’t think you even know what the truth is anymore.”

“Your wife —your current wife—seems to think you may have been responsible for Mr. Kelly’s attack,” Stephanie went on, through with his irritatingly crass comebacks.

“Attack?” Jordan asked.  “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Scott Kelly was nearly beaten to death outside his home last night.  A neighbor found him this morning unconscious.  I just got through questioning Miss Reynolds and she mentioned the alleged affair between her and the victim.”

“They didn’t have an affair!” Jordan exclaimed.  “It was a media stunt orchestrated by James Blackthorne to hype his movie.  Just what the hell is my wife telling you, anyway?”

“Well, for starters, I got an earful about a similar event that transpired a few months ago between you and Frank Dunning.”

Jordan clenched his fists in anger, hoping the detective didn’t pick up on the guilt that was spread out over his face.  Kicking the crap out of Frank was indeed a crime that he was guilty of. 

“Frank Dunning died in the earthquake,” he reminded her.  “If you can summon him from the grave and pull an eyewitness account from him, then be my guest.  Otherwise, you’re talking hearsay.”

“And Scott Kelly?”

“I was at the police station last night, remember?”

Stephanie shrugged.  “A man of your resources could have hired someone to do the job for you.”

Jordan shook his head in aggravation.  “Do you honestly think that I had nothing better to do last night than beat up some actor for an affair that didn’t even happen?  In case you haven’t noticed, my life is pretty messed up right now, so forgive me if I don’t have time for your inane questions.  Now if you’ll excuse me—” 

He brushed past her and made his way to the elevators.  Glancing at his watch, he felt pressed for time.  He wanted to catch Alex before she left.   Now that Detective Callahan was out of the building, he’d be free and clear to kill her with his bare hands.

---

Romantic music played on the stereo.  Candles flickered on the table.  A cool ocean breeze carried in to the room from the doors that opened onto the terrace of the expansive penthouse suite at Moonshadows.  Renee knew it was all an elaborate attempt at seduction.  Yesterday she would have stormed out in a huff, but today she felt differently.  Since their kiss back at the mansion, she’d come to realize what drew her to T.T. Levitt in the first place all those years ago.  He was dashing, sophisticated and loaded with class.  They were contemporaries.  She knew this and that was why she agreed to dinner.  What she hadn’t expected was that they would be dining in his room.

“When you said dinner I thought you meant we were going out,” she said, accepting a glass of champagne from him. 

T.T. smiled and led her to a table set up across the room.  “I thought it’d be easier for us to talk here,” he said and gestured to the refreshments.  “Help yourself to some caviar.”

“Thank you.  Osatrova?”

“Petrussian Beluga,” he corrected her.  “I told you I remembered everything about that cruise.”

Renee couldn’t resist smiling at his charming nature.  “Yes, we did enjoy our share, didn’t we?  What was that little bistro we went to in Monte Carlo that served it on absolutely everything?”

“It was in Fontvieille, not Monte Carlo,” he corrected her yet again.

Raising an eyebrow, she took a sip of champagne and leveled a look of surprise on him.  “If you’re trying to impress me…”

“Is it working?”

She didn’t respond, instead floated across the room and stood in the doorway of the terrace.  Taking in the fresh ocean air, she closed her eyes and thought about those nights on the Mediterranean.

T.T. turned the music up and approached her from behind.  He took her glass from her and set it aside, spinning her around and expertly leading her in a slow dance.

“We danced a lot those two weeks, remember?” he asked.

She laughed and put her hands over his shoulders.  “Yes, I remember.  The band was amazing.  They knew every song you requested and every one was a favorite of mine.  I’ve never danced so much in my life.”

“I have a confession to make,” T.T. began.  “I taught the band those numbers so that you’d keep dancing with me.”

“You didn’t!” Renee squealed and hit him playfully on the chest.

Booming laughter followed.  “Hey, I was resourceful back then.  I knew what I wanted and I knew how to get it.”

“Did you really?”

“No, but lucky for me it worked on you.”

Renee grew serious for a minute as they continued dancing.  She thought about what Malcolm told her about there being something keeping T.T. in L.A. She wondered if it really was her that he was staying for.  She wouldn’t dare ask, but a few hints to that affect couldn’t hurt.

“How long do you plan on staying in town?” she asked.  “I mean, I assume once you and James are through with your business dealings you’ll be on your way back to New York.”

“I do need to go back and take care of a few things,” he said thoughtfully.

“I see.”  She tried desperately to hide her disappointment.

“But I’d love to continue seeing you.  When I come back we can maybe pick up where we left off in Fontvieille.”

She looked into his eyes.  “I’d like that.”

He pulled her close and continued leading her in the dance.  “There’s something I need to tell you, Renee,” he began, choosing his words carefully.  “Before things go any further.  I just want all the cards on the table.”

“What is it?” she asked.

His reply was interrupted by a knock at the door.  Excusing himself, he kissed her softly on the lips and made his way to the door.  “Don’t go anywhere,” he called over his shoulder.

Renee smiled and picked up her glass of champagne.  She thought about how fast things were moving and wondered whether she was getting into something she would later regret.  All her preaching about not letting anyone take advantage of her seemed to fly out the window as soon as T.T. kissed her.  But something about it felt right.  How could she not go with her heart?

Commotion at the door caught her attention and she turned around just in time to see a beautiful young African American woman throwing her arms around T.T. and planting a passionate kiss on his lips.

“God, I’ve missed you!” the woman was saying.

“Angela, what are you doing here?” T.T. asked.

She frowned and pulled away.  “Didn’t Malcolm tell you I called?  I told him to tell you I was coming to L.A.  So here I am.  Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Her sights traveled over T.T.’s shoulder toward Renee who stood across the room, perplexed astonishment evident on her face.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t know you had company,” Angela said coolly and jerked away from him.

Awkwardness set in as T.T. closed the door and led Angela into the suite.  “Uh, no, it’s fine.  Angela, this is Renee DeWitt.  Renee, this is Angela Warner.  A business associate.”

Renee felt the room spinning.  She labored over the words that T.T spoke, first thinking she misheard him, and then reconciling it with sheer and utter humiliation.  She knew there was more to this woman that a simple business associate.  She could see it in the way Angela looked at him. 

---

Next time….

Miranda’s bandages come off.  T.T. tries to deflect a bad situation with Renee.  Benji wants revenge against Jordan.  Eddie has news on Kelly’s whereabouts.