Emily wakes up to knocking on her door. She groans, shoving the sheets off her legs and slowly sitting up. Who could it be this time? The knocking stops as she tosses her hair in a bun and slips on her silk robe. She can smell coffee brewing and catches a glimpse of a bright purple polo as she descends the stairs. She rolls her eyes.
"Didn't peg you for a morning person, Nolan." She quips, picking up a cup of coffee from the kitchen island. He turns to her, the signature smirk absent from his face. She holds the steaming cup in front of her; his expression is unusual and it makes her worry.
"This couldn't wait." He says simply. "I came to see you for a routine plotting session…" here the smirk returns, "and found this on your porch." He hands her a piece of paper, folded and creased where he's read it and tried to make it look like he hasn't. She sets the coffee down and takes it, studying it closely. Her eyes widen in shock and anger as she takes it in.
"Was this part of the plan to save your fiance? Sacrifice yourself for a Grayson?" He asks, more than a hint of irony in his voice.
"What, to subpoena me as a hostile witness? No. My job was supposed to be to testify about all the reasons I love him-"
"Isn't that touching." Her dark eyes flash to him.
"-in order to paint him as sympathetic."
"Of course. So why the sudden turn of events?" Nolan picks up his own coffee and takes a sip, pausing to inhale the aroma. "Did you piss somebody off?" She barely spares him a sarcastic glance before pacing around her kitchen. Confusion is a new feeling to her, and she has to admit it's not her favorite.
"I'm due in court this afternoon at two. So much for all these damn notes." She sinks into her couch, tossing the papers Brooks had given her the previous night. Nolan sits next to her, handing her the neglected coffee, which she slams onto the table in anger. "I'm calling Daniel. There must be a reason for this." Nolan watches as she pulls out her phone and dials her fiance, waiting for the Hamptons mask to slip back on her face, disguised even though he's the only one who can see her. But it doesn't. Her face remains clenched and agitated as the electronic message informs her that Daniel Grayson is unavailable, please leave a message after the beep. "Shit!" She slams the phone onto the table next to the steaming mug. Nolan touches her shoulder, giving her back the neglected coffee.
"Whoa, whoa whoa, calm down, Ems. I don't really feel like dealing with a broken cell phone on top of everything right now." He smirks and gets her to soften enough to take the coffee and resume thinking rationally, as she exhales a long sigh.
"This is Victoria's fault. It has to be something she cooked up to drive a wedge between me and Daniel."
"What are you going to do?" Cold resolve sets in her eyes.
"Go with it, at least this afternoon. I can handle whatever Brooks throws at me in court, and I can't afford to sabotage Daniel's trial at this point. Things have been tense between us. I know he lied about what happened on the beach and his alliance is with Victoria at the moment." She snaps through gritted teeth.
"Mama's boy, all the way to the end." Nolan quips. They sit together, studying the court document and waiting, watching as the minutes tick by between them.
…
Nolan doesn't see her again until that afternoon, when he slips into the courtroom undetected. The Graysons and everybody else on the defense side are too preoccupied to notice or care about his appearance, but he does have to put in some effort to avoid the throng of paparazzi clamoring at the front of the courthouse. He doesn't feel like coming up with another convoluted lie as to why he gives a damn about Daniel Grayson. And he doesn't. He's here for Emily.
He doesn't pay much attention to Brooks' opening statement or any of his other arguments until the blood spatter expert testifies that his analysis does not support the theory that Daniel dragged Tyler's body up the beach.
"So there had to have been someone else who did it?" Brooks turns to face the jury, his arms open and voice suggestive. The prosecutor nearly leaps out of her chair.
"Objection your honor, counsel is leading the witness." The judge nods in her direction.
"Sustained." Unruffled, Brooks turns back to his witness.
"In your expert opinion, did Daniel Grayson drag the body up the beach?" Again the prosecutor is on her feet.
"Objection, counsel is harassing the witness. This question has been asked and answered." The judge shrugs and replies,
"It's his witness." Nolan fights a chuckle as he sees Emily do the same, out of Daniel's sight.
"In my professional opinion, Daniel Grayson did not move the victim's body. The evidence suggests that there was another person on the beach that night." Brooks nods.
"Thank you, Mr. Solstein." The man steps down, seemingly relieved to exit the courtroom. Nolan sees the prosecutor shift in her chair, aware that this testimony might have put a dent in Declan's vehement claim that there was no one else on the beach that night.
"The defense calls Emily Thorne to the stand." Nolan sits straight up, his sapphire eyes locked on his blond partner in crime. The judge lowers her glasses as Emily approaches and is sworn in.
"Miss Thorne, you are aware that you are being treated as a hostile witness?"
"Yes, your honor." Nolan marvels at her composure, at the sure way she positions herself, barely sparing a glance for her fiance. He sees Daniel stiffen in his chair. Good, let the bastard sweat, the billionaire thinks. He'd be lying if he said he thought Daniel was totally innocent, though he is aware that Takeda bares the true guilt. To him, the young Grayson is the epitome of privileged, party-boy douche. The label fits almost every twenty-something in the Hamptons, but that doesn't stop Nolan from disliking the man. The billionaire's eyes slide sideways towards Jack, who is sitting with his lips in a grim line, his posture slouched, defeated. It's clear he doesn't want to hear what he thinks is going to be a spiel about Emily's undying love for her fiance. The sting of her initial rejection at the fourth of July party, the stress of his brother perjuring himself, and his fruitless search for his childhood sweetheart have left the young bartender in no position to endure any more bad news. Nolan wonders if, somewhere in the deep recesses of his friend's good heart, there is a black spot wishing for Daniel's incarceration. He turns his gaze back to the stand, where Brooks is beginning his direct examination.
"Ms. Thorne. How long have you been seeing Mr. Grayson?"
"Since June." She smiles serenely at her fiance.
"So you were there at his birthday party a few weeks into the summer?" She nods, her expression suddenly somber. Her eyes darken at the memory, her back straight.
"Yes. It was a horrible night. I thought...well I thought I would lose him."
"Can you refresh the jury's memory of what happened that night?" She takes a deep breath, turning to face the panel of twelve.
"Daniel's friend from Harvard, Tyler Barroll had been staying with the Graysons since his arrival here. We didn't know it at the time, but Tyler was...well he was schizophrenic. Apparently, he ran out of his medication and he pulled a gun on us."
"And how did you react?"
"I was scared. And angry. He'd threatened everybody in Daniel's family, including me."
"So you consider yourself a part of the family?" Brooks doesn't have to turn to know that Victoria is driving daggers into his back with her eyes at the mention of Emily as family. Emily knows it too, and Amanda finds great pleasure in the queen's anguish.
"I am Daniel's fiance."
" And how long have you been engaged to him?" A small smile spreads across Emily's face.
"He proposed toward the end of summer. So about 4 months."
"And you said yes."
"Absolutely." Her eyes shift towards the young Grayson, who is watching with a tight face. Brooks continues, his posture relaxed, arms open.
"Isn't it true, Ms. Thorne, that you would do anything for the protection of yourself and your fiance?"
"Yes.
"And you go great lengths for that protection. You own a handgun, don't you?" She stiffens on the stand.
"Objection Your Honor, counsel is leading the witness." The prosecutor knows she's taking a chance, and unfortunately for her, the judge catches it. She lowers her glasses and directs a condescending stare at the woman.
"Leading questions on direct are permitted with a hostile witness, Ms. Collins." She states dryly. New York City District Attorney Jennifer Collins feels her cheeks burn, before she nods, smoothing her skirt and sitting back down. The judge nods at Brooks. "Continue."
"Yes, I own a handgun." Emily's reply is curt to the point of rudeness.
"Do you love your fiance? Enough to want to save his life from a madman like Tyler Barroll?"
"Yes, I do." Brooks smiles, locking eyes with his witness.
"I would like to submit item 467-B. Forensics analysis of the bullets that killed Tyler Barroll." He places the documents in front of the judge and turns back to Emily, whom the jury is watching with suspicion in their eyes. "Those are the same bullets from your gun, aren't they?"
She grits her teeth, regretting giving in to Tyler's random deal, losing her weapon and her doppleganger all in one. She wonders briefly why she didn't just tell Brooks the truth, allow the shark to go after Takeda instead. She shakes it off. Emily doesn't fear anyone, Takeda included, but she isn't in the mood to become his enemy. She realizes a long time has passed since Brooks asked her the question. "Ms. Thorne?" She still doesn't respond.
"The witness will answer." The judge's tone is harsh.
"Yes, your honor." The judge nods down at Brooks.
"Repeat your question." Brooks takes a step towards the witness stand, from where Emily's gaze is burning deep, as if she can see into his soul. He suppresses a shudder, clears his throat, and asks,
"Ms. Thorne, are these bullets, the ones that were recovered from Tyler Barroll's body, the same bullets that came from your gun?" Emily feels herself inhale deeply, then exhale. Just like your father: framed to protect a Grayson. Except worse! You are letting them do this to you. She can feel Takeda's reprimand pounding in her head. Flashes of her father play in front of her eyes: him smiling, him being led away by the FBI, him telling her to forgive. She catches Nolan's pitying, disappointed glance directed at her. She opens her mouth to answer.
"Yes, but-"
"No further questions, Your Honor." Brooks knows he's cut it close. At any moment, the judge could declare this sufficient evidence to dismiss all charges against Daniel and bring the charge of Murder 1 over Emily's head instead.
The prosecutor rises in her chair, and walks toward Emily, the epitome of calm.
"Ms. Thorne, you said that you've been seeing Daniel Grayson since summer. Isn't it true that he also lives at your beach house?"
"Before house arrest, yes."
"And didn't you show him your gun?"
"He found it in a drawer. But I kept it hidden after that."
"Yet he still had access to it." The prosecutor states. She take a breath before continuing. "You never had any direct confrontations with Mr. Barroll, did you?" Brooks is expecting this. A small smile spreads over his face.
"Actually, Daniel and I went out to dinner with him and his girlfriend-"
"Miss Ashley Davenport."
"Yes. The conversation got pretty heated between me and Tyler. Eventually he stormed off." The prosecutor blinks, clearly not expecting this. Brooks' palm moves to conceal his widening, sly smile.
"Uh-but, it was only Daniel who was found near his body, correct?"
"Yes. I was inside the party tent when the body was found." She glances at Brooks and he nods, as she emphasizes that last part. So not necessarily when the murder happened, is the message they want to send. The prosecutor catches the glance, feeling her teeth grit.
"No further questions Your Honor." Brooks stands.
"May the witness be excused?" The judge nods. As Emily passed the lawyer, she gives a small nod and he reciprocates, miming the tip of a hat. They have achieved the perfect balance: create enough reasonable doubt without fully implicating Emily, with the prosecutor's unwitting assistance on cross.
After court lets out, Emily staggers home like a drunk, exhausted and ready to fall into bed, with a sudden desire to be alone. Her heels carry her up her porch steps, where a blond in an unusually subdued outfit waits.
"How does it feel to be a murder suspect?" Her gait slows.
"What do you want, Nolan?"
"I came to check up on you. Quite a stunt Daniel's lawyer pulled in there." She refuses to meet his eyes, steering the conversation in another direction as she sits beside him on the swing.
"You asked me once if I would come clean for Jack." Her fingers trace the carved white wood they are sitting on.
"And you didn't answer me." His signature smirk crawls across his face. She sighs, at once irritated with him and pleased he can see her truth without her having to expose it.
"I didn't come clean. But it's the most that I can do for him."
"I can't believe you'd do that. And put your safety in danger?"
"The prosecutors aren't going to charge me. They know it was a last ditch attempt on our part. They'd never get a successful conviction going after me. Besides, it's not like I could expose Takeda or frame Amanda. You saw how easily Tyler was able to turn her against me." He nods somberly, the very mention of Tyler calling up memories he'd rather suppress, and she shakes her head. "I can't afford any more mistakes." She sighs and smiles slightly. "Besides, it's not like I went in unprepared." Confusion ruffles his brow. It makes her smile widen, to see that she is in control of a situation again, that the confusion is not hers. He knows the game, knows her need for power when she's been suppressed her entire life. He goes along with it.
"You were...prepared?" He'll even amp up the ignorance factor for her sometimes, just because he cares. He wonders if she can see right through him. She grins.
"Brooks came to see me, right after you left. He…convinced me to go along with it."