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"It's fine," Vanessa says, dismissing it with a wave of her hand. "I'm just on edge. Going back to Paris...I've been having nightmares about my sister for the past few nights. Just the thought of going back to that apartment..."
Sean rests his hand on Vanessa's leg. "It will be fine."
"I know that. We need to visit this photographer, Monsieur Clayton. Get an alibi for Marcus and prove that he didn't kill my sister. And hopefully... find the son of a bitch who did."
"And we'll get him, this... Clayton, or Francois Davenport, or whatever the hell he's calling himself... we'll get him to talk to us," Sean says. "He's got a shoot coming up in Downtown Paris."
Sean removes an issue of French Vogue from his bag, laying it across Vanessa's lap and opening it. "Right here."
Vanessa nods. "And then I will finally be able to bring my son home."
"You don't talk a lot about him," Sean says.
"I just don't want to bring up the memories," Vanessa says. "I don't want to break down and cry. Because I can't. I have to find the person who did this to my sister. I haven't always been the strongest, most independent person in the past... I let Michael use me as his mistress. I let Ryan manipulate me all the way to the altar. I'm done being a fool for other people."
"Same here. I'm done letting people run my life for me."
As Sean and Vanessa embrace one another, they once again fail to notice the man watching them from just a few feet away. He removes a cell phone from his pocket and quickly dials a number. "Mr. Robertson, it's Depeche... I have both targets in sight, and I'm ready to eliminate them."
Melissa Bale's gravestone is the most beautiful one he's seen in the entire cemetery. He never knew his own mother, never got the chance to visit her gravesite. And so here, on the anniversary of Melissa's death, Tyler Rogers pays his respects to the woman he prayed was his mother for a brief time two years ago.
"Melissa," Tyler says, his voice quaking. "I'm sorry that I never got the chance to come to your funeral. I know that my father did...but he wouldn't let me come with you."
Hugh never wanted Tyler to know anything about his real mother, let alone this woman who had breezed into his home and claimed that Tyler was the son Hugh had kept away from her for years.
"Dad, what's going on?" Tyler demands.
"Why don't you tell him what's going on, Hugh?" Melissa asks, challenging him. She pulls her arm out of his grasp and stares him down. "Tell him about the secret you've been keeping from me. From him."
"Who are you?" Tyler asks, irritated. "And why are you bothering us?"
"I didn't want to have to do things this way," Melissa says. "But I'm your —"
"Shut your mouth," Hugh says, interrupting her. "Tyler, come inside."
"No, Hugh!" Melissa cries. "The lies stop now! They all stop right now!"
She takes Tyler by his hands and looks into his eyes, smiling at him.
"Tyler, I know this might be hard for you to swallow, but I'm...I'm your mother," Melissa says. "I'm your mother."
Tyler pulls away from her. "Is this some sick joke? My mother is dead."
"No, she's not," Melissa says, shaking her head. "She's right here. But trust me, I had no idea you were alive. Your father made sure of that."
Hugh slaps Melissa across the face. "You stupid woman! You have no idea what you're talking about!"
"Dad, stop!" Tyler cries. "What this woman is saying...is this true?"
It turned out not to be true once the DNA test results came in, but the feeling still lingered in his mind. As far as Tyler was concerned, Melissa was his mother. And he was going to be here, every chance he could get, remembering those few brief moments they had together.
The sound of crunching leaves draws fear into Tyler's bones. Before he can spin around to find who is towering behind him, he hears a deep, booming voice. "What the hell are you doing here?"
MARQUETTE COVE COURTHOUSE
Akilah Moore adjusts her hair while staring into a compact mirror, legs crossed, on a bench outside the courtroom. She has arrived early for her court appearance where it will finally be decided what will come of her shoplifting and drug possession charges.
"Your mother's not here yet?" Darren Reynolds demands, taking a seat next to Akilah as he shoots off several messages on his Blackberry.
Akilah shakes her head. "Neither is Vince. Where the hell is he? And my Aunt?"
"None of them answered my phone calls," Darren says. "Though Leslie did leave a message about wanting to bring a united family front to this sentencing."
"A united family front? That would require a family, wouldn't it?" Akilah mutters. "Oh, maybe she's going to bring my pretend father, Robert. Or my deadbeat dad. Or maybe she and Michael have finally reconciled."
Darren sighs wearily. "I think you should cut Robert and your mother some slack. They've been very understanding during all of this."
"This isn't my fault!" Akilah snaps, rising to her feet in a snit. "You know, I can see why Blake is over an old, judgmental jerk like you."
Exasperated, Darren chooses to simply ignore Akilah. If he weren't doing this as a favor for his uncle, he'd personally tell the judge to lock this brat up and throw away the key. She's even more infuriating than his sister had been when she was finishing up high school.
Akilah turns away from Darren, moving toward the end of the hallway while simultaneously texting on her Blackberry. As she walks, she accidentally runs into a young man dressed in a grey suit. "Oh, I'm so sorry... Matt?"
"Hey Akilah," Matt says, smiling weakly.
Akilah slaps Matt across the face. "Wipe that damn grin off your face! Do you realize that you're the reason I'm here?"
Matt's face falls. "Oh...you mean the coke? How'd you know it was me?"
"Aside from the sudden attack of guilt that brought you here, how about the fact that everyone in town knows you're out ki-kiing every night. You're like, the worst drug dealer in the world."
Matt wipes his nose instinctively, though he hasn't done any coke that morning. That he remembers. "Whatever. I came to be supportive. You don't have to get all diary of a mad black woman on me."
Akilah reaches up to Matt's head and rips two strands of hair from his scalp. Matt cries out in pain, grabbing at his head.
"You'd better do something to fix this," Akilah says, pointing a finger directly at Matt's chest. "Otherwise, you had better believe I will find that crazy old psychic in Emerald Square and have her make a voodoo doll out of this hair!"
FARRAH LOUIS' APARTMENT
"Stop calling me, dammit!" Farrah Louis hisses into her cell phone before hanging up once more on Kane Li. She shoves her cell into her jeans pocket and glances over at the couch, where Alec Bale is fast asleep. Her talking hasn't awakened him, but unfortunately the same can't be said for Phillip. She crosses to the crib in the corner of the living room, quickly lifting Alec's crying son into her arms and rocking him back and forth. Spending the past few weeks with Alec in her apartment has been almost like the family she's always wished she had.
Years ago, she never thought she'd have much of a relationship with anyone. She was sleeping with Alec in high school after he'd broken up with Jessica, but because of the abuse she'd suffered at her father's hand, she never thought she deserved anything. When her father's company went belly-up and she had no money, she made the awful mistake of doing a few adult films to start her life over. She regrets that decision now, but she can't deny the fact that she is where she is now because of that choice.
She's not broke. She has an apartment, she's independent, and now she has Alec in her life. And he wants to run away with her and Phillip. She can finally have the family she's always wanted.
Farrah is startled as her phone vibrates in her jeans. "If he will just leave me alone..."
Before she can decide whether or not to answer the phone, she hears a hurried knock at her door. She sets the now quiet Phillip back into his crib and goes to the door. When she opens it, she is surprised to find Vincent Moore standing in the hallway.
"We need to talk," Vince says, pushing his way inside.
Panicked, Farrah quickly closes the door and pulls Vince to face her. With Alec lying on a few feet away from him on the couch, she can't let him get from the foyer into the living room. If he does, then everything she's clawed out for herself will be lost in an instant.
"What do you want?" Farrah demands. "Who are you to barge into my apartment like this?"
"Get over yourself," Vince snaps. "I need your help."
Farrah folds her arms. "With what?"
"Kane Li," Vince says. "I don't trust him."
Farrah rolls her eyes. "You just don't like that he's hanging around that bitch Jessica. What does that have to do with me?"
"I've seen him spending a lot of time with you. And I know how much you hate Jessica. So I want you to help me keep him away from her."
"You and your sister really need to grow up," Farrah says. "I thought you were beyond the stupid shit you used to pull in high school, Vince."
"This isn't a game," Vince says, grabbing Farrah's arm. "I don't trust him. There's something about him that unnerves me."
"Well, that's just too —" Farrah stops talking as her phone rings again. "Shit!"
Vince frowns. "What's wrong?"
"Get out!" Farrah says, opening the door and finally pushing Vince back into the hallway. "I want all of you to leave me the hell alone!"
As she slams the door shut and sinks to the floor, the only thought in Farrah's mind is the upcoming bachelor party where she will once again, have to degrade herself to make ends meet. But hopefully this time will be the last.
EMERALD CEMETERY
Tyler turns, horrified that he's been caught by the voice that he recognizes as Robert Bale's. He's been avoiding Robert since the man came to visit him in Atlantic City, wanting information about Aaron Maddock. But he breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes that Robert wasn't demanding to know why he was there.
Aaron Maddock himself was at the cemetery as well, just a few feet away from Tyler. Tyler quickly crawls out of view as Robert moves toward Aaron, a furious look on his face.
"I'm here to honor my sister's memory," Aaron says snidely, as if he owes Robert an explanation in the first place.
"You shouldn't be here," Robert says. "Not after all you did to her. The lies, the manipulation."
Aaron frowns. "Robert...I'm here to visit Melissa. Not get into an argument with you."
"Somehow, I doubt that," Robert says, forcing a laugh. "You've done nothing but antagonize me for the better part of a year, and now all of a sudden you want to bury the hatchet?"
"It's true, Robert."
Robert turns to see his ex-wife, Felicia Bale, slowing approaching with car keys dangling from her forefinger. She sides up with Aaron, rubbing his shoulder gently. Robert can barely hide his disgusted look.
"He wants to bury the hatchet," Felicia says, nodding. "We all do. We just want to move on, Robert. Now you've caused a lot of trouble for everyone, but..."
"I've caused trouble?" Robert demands. "Oh, that is rich coming from you two. I want to be alone with my wife. And if either of you tries to give me that bull about burying the hatchet again, I'll bury it alright. Right in both of your backs."
"I told you this was a mistake," Aaron mutters.
"Robert, please," Felicia says, moving toward him and taking his hand. "I don't want to fight anymore."
"Hello, Mr. Bale," Kristine, one of Simon's hired nurses at the clinc, says sweetly as she speaks into her cell phone. "Your ex-wife paid a visit to the clinic today...which will afford me the wonderful opportunity to move ahead with the plan."
"Good," Robert says, speaking in a hushed tone on the other end. "I'm about to go into court, so I can't speak, but...the money was wired into your account? Yours and your sisters?"
"Yes," Kristine answers. "Ellen and I have been very well taken care of, thanks to you and Valerie. I just need to find the right time for Simon to discover this."
Robert takes a deep breath. "You know what, Felicia? Neither do I."
Felicia eyes him suspiciously. "Really?"
"Yes, really," Robert says, nodding. "I think that...I think that's what Melissa would have wanted."
EMERALD PLAZA HOTEL
Yolanda Holland steps out of the shower, wrapping a designer Louis Vuitton towel around her body as she makes her way to the sink and wipes the condensation from the mirror. She is running late for her appointment at the courthouse for her niece's public hearing, or whatever it is that she's there for.
Normally she wouldn't attend such an event, what with the paparazzi constantly lurking, ready to see if she herself had committed some minor infraction of the law. But Akilah had continuously badgered her about attending, and to be fair, she did want a relationship with her niece and nephew.
It was unfortunate that her sister wanted nothing to do with her, but that wasn't Yolanda's fault. Leslie simply couldn't take the fact that Yolanda called her out on the ridiculous things she did. Most of this town treated Leslie, former drug addict and bad decision maker, as some sort of patron saint. Like she was the model of motherhood.
Whatever.
Back when she was first with Sean, Leslie could barely keep her legs closed and had an affair with his brother, Derek. That affair produced Leslie's son, Vincent. Whom she'd passed off as Sean's son for the past twenty years. Leslie probably lucked out when Sean was presumed dead for so long. Surely, it gave Leslie a reprieve from all of her lies.
And so, when Yolanda tried to come back into her family's life, she was thrown out of it. Barred from any contact, according to the Great Leslie Moore.
"Let's just see her stop me today," Yolanda mutters, entering her adjoining bedroom and disrobing, quickly snatching up her couture clothing from the bed.
Maybe Yolanda will mention how Sean is planning a romantic trip for the two of them to France. Maybe that will knock Leslie off her pedestal. She doesn't deserve Sean's affections, but she walks around town having men constantly clawing at one another to get to her. But not anymore. Through chance, it appeared Sean had developed feelings for Yolanda by staying with her.
And she was going to use that to every advantage against Leslie.
Once she was fully dressed, before she could begin to apply her make-up, she heard a knock at the door. She crossed into the living room and opened the door, finding that goddamn busybody bellhop standing outside in the hallway with a wide grin on his face.
"What is it now?" Yolanda demands.
"I have a note for you, from Mr. Moore," the bellhop says.
"Sean? But he's right in the bedroom," Yolanda says. "He was there when I got home from the gym this morning."
"I'm sorry, but he left a message for you at the front desk. I just wanted to deliver it in person. He left for his trip to France, the one you knew about already?"
Yolanda is visibly confused. "He...he left? But we were supposed to go together..."
"You know, miss, he doesn't deserve you —"
"That'll be quite enough," Yolanda snaps. "Goodbye."
The bellhop nods, scuttling off down the hallway. As Yolanda tries closing the door, she hears someone calling her name. She glances up and sees Herald Robertson standing a few feet from her door.
"Herald, correct?" Yolanda asks. "The grandfather of that...that child Sean is having?"
Herald frowns. "Yes. Did I just overhear correctly? Sean is on his way to France without you?"
"I don't see how that's any of your business!" Yolanda rages, slamming the door in his face.
Herald can hear her stifled tears the door, but her emotions are of no concern to her. His plans are. He whips out his cell phone and dials erratically, hurrying to the end of the hallway. "Depeche! You told me that bitch who's trying to steal away the father of my new grandson was on her way to Paris with Sean!"
"Sir, she is," Depeche says, whispering on the other end of the line. "I'm staring directly at her."
"I have no idea who you're staring at, but Yolanda Holland is still in her hotel room at the Emerald Plaza!" Herald snaps. "Now get your ass back here and do the job I hired you for!"
EMERALD CEMETERY
"Well, this is certainly a sight."
Robert, Aaron and Felicia turn to find Kyle Maddock approaching them, arms folded. His wispy blond hair whips in the wind as he narrows his eyes at the trio.
"Kyle," Aaron says. "It's good to see you."
"Same here," Kyle says, still seeming stand-offish as usual, with everything he says to anyone. "Robert. Felicia."
"Aaron and I were just burying the hatchet," Robert says, piping up with a smile. "We've decided to put the entire business of our pasts in the ground, burying over it. I just want to roll the dice, you know...like in Atlantic City, or something."
Kyle fully understands Robert's pointed comment, and he is none too pleased with his continued insistence on poking in things that aren't his business.
"I paid a visit to Hugh Rogers in Atlantic City," Robert says.
"Hugh Rogers? The man responsible for pimping out my sister? Whatever for?"
"I found out while I was there that he was blackmailing Aaron over something he did to you when you were younger," Robert answers. "I know it's probably very painful for you to talk about this, but I know what Aaron did to you."
Kyle's lip begins to tremble. "What Aaron..."
"I know he molested you."
Kyle wants to reach out and grab Robert, shove him to the ground and shut him up. But he can't. He can't allow himself to lose control. To let Robert know the truth.
Because digging into the past is not something Kyle can afford.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kyle insists.
"How good for the both of you," Kyle says. "I take this to mean you'll be in attendance at the wedding?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Robert says, still grinning. "You all have a good day."
As Robert departs the cemetery, everyone else remains silent. Kyle has nothing to say to Aaron. He can only keep up the façade that he wants him to be a part of his family for so long. He just needs to get past the wedding so he can accelerate his plans.
"Can't wait for the wedding," Kyle says.
"We'll leave you alone to be with your sister," Felicia says, tugging at Aaron's arm.
Once they depart, Kyle kneels down before Melissa's grave. He places his palm on the headstone and takes a brief moment of quiet contemplation. His sister... no, Kyle's sister... his sister. She's there, lying in the ground. And at the end of the day, it all goes back to Aaron Maddock as the main reason that all of this has happened.
How fortuitous it was that he ran into Rebecca and Kane back in Atlantic City. He made them come to Marquette Cove where they could infiltrate Aaron Maddock's life and ultimately destroy him, like Hugh Rogers had been unable to do. Where everyone else had failed...he was going to succeed.
Tyler crouches behind a tree, just a short distance from Melissa's grave. Having overheard everything from the people who claimed they loved Melissa, he realizes how desecrated this woman's memory had become. And it was due to Aaron Maddock.
What he'd done to Robert's son... to Kyle... and to Tyler himself when he was mourning never having had a mother and Tyler's father thought therapy was a good choice for helping him fight his demons... Aaron deserves to pay.
Everyone else will surely thank him for exposing Aaron at his wedding. Letting everyone know exactly what kind of man he is. Tyler used to be afraid of anyone learning the truth, especially his father.
But Melissa died at these people's hands. And she shouldn't have died in vain. It has taken long enough for Tyler to fight his demons, but now he's ready to do it... head-on.
MARQUETTE COVE COURTHOUSE
"What's with all the tragedy masks?" Vince asks, entering the building dressed in a blazer and dress shirt. He finds his sister and Darren sitting on the bench outside, half-talking strategy, half-staring out into the distance.
"Where the hell have you been?" Akilah demands.
"I had something to take care of," Vince says, checking his watch. "It hasn't even started yet. Cool the hell down."
"Your mother hasn't arrived yet," Darren says. "Neither has —"
"Am I late?" Robert Bale asks, striding into the building behind Vince.
"— never mind," Darren finishes. "We have about twenty minutes anyway, so we've still got a buffer for Leslie to be here."
"Don't worry, she'll be fine," Robert says.
Darren raises an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"I wasn't going to say anything, but she wants to visit Sean," Robert says. "Convince him to come to the hearing, where we can present a united family front to the judge."
"With you here?" Akilah scoffs. "How's that gonna work, exactly? My mom and my two dads? Maybe my mom shouldn't even show up, and you two can just be my gay dads? I hear that's in right now."
"Akilah, stop it," Vince mutters.
"No, I think that's a perfect idea," Akilah continues. "Maybe if you two make out a little during the —"
"Akilah shut the hell up," Vince snaps, his thundering voice echoing throughout the building's hallways. "Just...shut up. This is your mess, so you might just have to deal with it yourself."
"Big words coming from someone who's been arrested more times than you can count on one had," Matt says, approaching them from the end of the hallway.
Vince rolls his eyes. "What are you doing here, Matt?"
"I came to help Akilah," Matt says.
"At least someone did," Akilah says, jumping up and going to hug Matt. "Thank you, so much! Did you get me out of these stupid charges?"
"This doesn't sound like a good idea," Robert interjects.
"You guys did a big disserve divorcing yourselves from the Hanleys," Matt says. "Because at the end of the day, my family name gets stuff done."
Vince, Robert and Darren each groan simultaneously. Matt is hardly someone they can stomach right now, when they're already putting up with Akilah and her histrionics.
"So what, the charges are dropped?" Akilah asks.
Matt nods. "It's as good as done..."
Before Matt can finish, he's flanked at both sides by two police officers. One produces a pair of handcuffs and dangles them in front of Matt. "Matthew Holden, you're under arrest."
"Under arrest!?" Everyone exclaims, none more surprised than Matt himself.
"For what?" Darren demands.
"For attempting to bribe a judge," one of the officers says, just before slamming the cuffs onto Matt's wrists.
EMERALD PLAZA HOTEL
Yolanda wipes away the tears from her eyes as she opens the door, surprised to Leslie standing outside in the hallway. She hates having her sister find her in this position, so she steps back, hoping the dim lighting in the living room will shield her face.
"I'm sorry to show up unannounced," Leslie says, stepping into the hotel suite. "But I'm looking for Sean."
"Don't you have your daughter's court appearance today?" Yolanda says, dabbing at her face quickly.
"Can you tell me where Sean is?" Leslie asks, ignoring her sister's question.
Yolanda, suddenly remembering Sean's sudden departure for the airport, switches gears. "The trip. That's what this is about."
"Excuse me?"
"You're still legally married to Sean, and now you're trying to relive the honeymoon you spent there."
Leslie frowns. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I remember that you two spent your honeymoon in France, and Robert and Felicia had theirs in New Orleans, and you both had this stupid French-themed party when you..."
"Yolanda!" Leslie interrupts. "What the hell is this about? Where is Sean?"
"He's at the goddamn airport, just like you knew he was!" Yolanda yells, shoving her sister. "You didn't have to come here and rub it in my face. Sean doesn't want me, I get it."
"Sean doesn't...when was Sean ever interested in you? He has two children and a third on the way with Denise," Leslie says. "Are you busy being delusional again?"
Yolanda glares at Leslie. "Get out."
"Fine, whatever!" Leslie says, throwing her hands up in defeat. "It is a chore talking to you, Yolanda. I don't even know why I bother."
She makes her way back into the hallway, grabbing the door handle and slamming it shut behind her. As Leslie shakes her head in disdain, she is startled as a tall, dark-haired man steps in front of her.
"Ms. Holland?"
Leslie laughs. "Wow, no one's called me that in quite a while. Unless you mean my —"
Before Leslie can finish her sentence, the man grabs her. He places a chloroformed handkerchief over her mouth and nose, quickly cutting out her air supply. After a few seconds, Leslie collapses into his arms.
The man known as Depeche smiles, dragging Leslie along. "It's time to say goodbye to Marquette Cove...Yolanda Holland."
