Justin, Kim, and Shane ducked their heads in an attempt to plow their way through the crowd that had assembled on the courthouse steps. It seemed as if the entire town- and definitely the entire press corps- had turned out to see Clyde Weston be arraigned. "I feel like I'm back in LA," Kim whispered to Shane. "This is O.J. Simpson 2.0."
"Although I'd bet you're hoping for a different outcome," Nicole guessed, putting a Titan TV microphone in Kim's face. "Does Clyde Weston deserve to die, Mrs. Donovan?"
"Can the soulless be killed?" Kim replied.
"An interesting point..."
"And a perfect sound bite," interjected Justin. "Now go find the public defender and leave my clients alone."
"One client seems to be missing. Where's Eve this morning?"
"Ever think she's holed up somewhere waiting for you vultures to clear off," Sami snapped, swatting at the mic. "Take a hint, Nicole!"
"Actually, that's a damn good question," Shane muttered.
"Relax, honey, she'll be here soon," Kim looped her arm through his and pulled him into the building. "I think..."


Paige was sleeping, the only time she didn't object to her mother's presence in her hospital room. Eve placed a kiss on her daughter's temple and hurried to the corner before her buzzing phone could disturb the peace.
"You've been a naughty girl, Evie," laughed the person on the other side. "Naughty, but ingenious. You get your brains from me, of course."
"You are supposed to be rotting away in a Scottish prison somewhere," Eve hissed. "How did you get my number?"
"Never mind how. Suffice it to say that reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated, which, it turns out, is to your benefit."
"My benefit...how?"
"It's come to my attention that a Mr. Clyde Weston has made a proper nuisance of himself. Xander Cook is an old cellmate of mine. He'd like to make his displeasure known. And so, I gather, would you."
"You've got that right."
"Not to worry, love. Good old Uncle Drew will take care of everything."

Eve burst in through the side entrance, balancing on Rafe's arm as she hopped on one foot. "You should be in the clear now. Good luck in court."
"Do I want to know?" Justin drawled, as Eve gave Rafe a smile.
"I do," remarked Shane. "Where the devil have you been, Eve?"
"She probably wanted to walk here and clear her head a bit," Kim reasoned.
"Yeah, that's right," Eve brushed flyaway hair behind her ear. "I broke my heel in the rush."
"Well, no time for fashion statements." Justin eyed the beckoning bailiff. "Judge Tyler is not a patient man." Justin took his place at the prosecution table while the others filed into the gallery behind him.
Eve eyed Clyde. He sat next to the defense attorney in a gray suit jacket and light blue tie. "How can a man using a public defender afford clothes like that?" she whispered.
Shane shrugged. "I imagine this isn't his first time in front of a judge." The bailiff boomed over them, charging Clyde Fillmore Weston with the first-degree murder of Serena Mason, the first-degree attempted murders of Paige Larson, Roman Brady, and Jack Deveraux Jr., and possession of a controlled substance.
"I just hope the judge isn't fooled," mouthed Kim.
"Clyde Weston isn't fooling anybody," Shane assured her, soon becoming aware of a silence in the courtroom.
"Are we interrupting afternoon tea, Captain," barked Judge Tyler.
"No, Your Honor."
"Good. How do you plead, Mr. Weston?"
"Not guilty."
"The people are asking for remand, Your Honor," said Justin. "The defendant has known connections in Florida, where he's suspected of yet another violent crime."
"There's insufficient evidence to prove my client had any connection to that unfortunate incident," spoke the public defender.
"You and I both know that doesn't mean squat." The venom in Eve's voice was so clear, it cut through the courtroom. "This man gets his power from watching the life leave people's eyes..." She tried to push her words past the mounting lump in her throat. "...stealing beautiful futures. If a man...if a man can do that without blinking an eye, well, we don't what else he's capable of, do we?"
The corners of Clyde's mouth twitched. "I'll tell you one thing I'm capable of: dressing for court. You look like the biggest hillbilly I've ever seen in your stocking feet, and I'm an expert."
"You'll be black and blue by the time I'm done with you." Eve lunged toward the defense table. "How dare you put your filthy hands around my baby girl's neck, you bastard!"
"Order! Order in the court! Someone control that woman!" When the combined efforts of Shane and Rafe had a now crying Eve back in her seat, the judge continued, "While I cannot condone Ms. Larson's theatrics, I tend to agree with her sentiment. "Mr. Weston is hereby held without bail until trial. I urge you to prepare a victim impact statement for that time, madam. And I call on God himself to help poor Don Craig control this circus at trial. Next case."