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- Brent called to tell Molly that Cameron’s dead body had been found in her office at Objection. 
- Another pair of footprints were found at the scene of Cameron’s murder, but Brent and Detective Harris found it odd that they were stamped in paint instead of the victim’s blood. 
- Helen, out on bail after being arraigned for Sandy and Ryan’s murders, was arrested again for killing Cameron.  


“It’s pretty brazen to be granted bail and turn right around and murder someone else,” Diane Bishop says, her words crackling slightly through the tinny speakers of the iPad. "The judge who let Helen Chase out on bail should probably go into hiding for a while."

Alex Marshall sits on one of the stools at the kitchen island, his elbows propped up on the granite countertop as he listens to the radio broadcast in a stupor. The news of Cameron Kelley’s murder doesn’t seem even close to real, even in the light of day. 

“Any new info?” Jason Fisher asks as he comes into the kitchen.

Alex shakes his head. “Nothing useful."

“As horrible as it was to think about Helen being arrested for murder, at least it felt like this might be over. But it just keeps going."

“Helen wouldn’t be crazy enough to get on bail and then go kill someone, would she?” Alex asks, though he knows there is no way that Jason has any more of a concrete answer than he does.

  Alex Marshall

Jason stares out the window at the yard, where Sophie is playing in the grass. “I don’t know what to think anymore."

Alex lowers the volume on the iPad, reducing Diane and her cohost’s voices to faint traces in the air. 

“What’s freaking me out is… if Helen killed Cameron,” he says, pausing for a sigh, “did she do it because of me? She saw us arguing not too long ago."

Eyes wide, Jason turns back. “That’s completely insane, but so is everything going on lately.” 

“I know.” Alex folds his arms on the island and bends forward, resting his head on them. He hardly slept all night, but as much as exhaustion threatens to overtake him, he knows it won’t quite be possible. “Cameron was a good person. He was young, that’s all. But he had a lot of talent and he was a fun person to be around. I can’t believe he’s gone. It doesn’t make sense."

“None of this makes sense,” Jason says, “and somehow, it only keeps getting crazier."


Trevor Brooks’s body sits at the desk in his bedroom, but his mind is a thousand miles away — or, more precisely, scattered in every conceivable direction. Outside, it looks like any perfectly pleasant summer’s day, the sun casting its inviting glow upon the green lawns throughout the neighborhood. That weather feels like a sick taunt, though, given what happened last night.

He is grateful that he had already decided to work from home even before word of Cameron’s death spread. Being in the office today would probably be unbearable, with everyone wanting to talk about it and ask him if he noticed anything out of place when he came by late last night.

Was Cameron’s body in there? he wonders for the millionth time since news of the murder broke. Trevor walked right up to Cameron’s desk and picked up the recorder. Cameron’s bag was sitting there, and the lights were on. Had he been dragged into Molly’s office and murdered only minutes before? Trevor shudders at the thought. 

He is pulled, at least somewhat, from his musings by the vibrating of his cell phone. Taking it from the pocket of his sweatpants, he sees a text from his mother, informing him that she and his father just landed at SeaTac and will be home as soon as possible. The thought gives Trevor some welcome relief; it will be nice to see his parents and be with family after the horror of last night and this morning. 

He glances at the digital recorder lying atop the small writing desk beside his laptop. Such an insignificant object, but now it carries so much weight. Cameron agreed to record yesterday’s meeting for him on it because he had no other choice, per Molly’s request — but using Alex’s recorder to do it was an act of spite, meant to dig at Trevor and remind him that he was a major reason Alex never got serious with Cameron. Trevor doesn’t even know if that’s true, but he could tell from Cameron’s attitude that he believed it. 

Doing some work might help, he reasons as he reaches for the recorder, even though his mind has no interest in focusing on anything. But he needs a distraction, so he rewinds to the beginning and begins to play back the audio of yesterday’s meeting, hoping that he will be able to pay any attention to it.


A hot shower proves to be rejuvenating for Danielle Taylor, after a fitful night of sleep punctuated by several fits of panicked waking — due as much to her anxiety over the wine she drank last night as to the evening coffee she had to try and sober up. The phone call from Brent informing her and Molly of Cameron’s murder added one more layer of darkness to the night, and so she hardly slept more than two or three hours in total. By the time she gets herself out of bed, a cleansing shower is calling to her, and afterward, she feels at least like some semblance of her usual self. Still in her fluffy white robe, with a towel around her hair, she makes her way downstairs — where she finds something she did not expect to see.

“Oh, sorry,” she says as she comes upon Molly Taylor and Philip Ragan on the couch in the family room, looking predictably somber. “I didn’t realize—"

“No, I’m the one who should apologize,” Philip says. “I came by without notice to see if Molly was doing all right. You should be able to walk around your own house in the morning in your robe."

“It’s okay,” Danielle says, though she does feel a bit exposed, even though she is quite covered by the robe. “It’s good of you to come by."

“I can’t believe it,” Philip says, his head swaying sadly from side to side. “I didn’t know Cameron all that well, but he was always perfectly pleasant when I called or visited the office."

  Molly Taylor

“He was a really great assistant,” Molly says, “and, more than that, a friend. I’m really going to miss him.” Her dark hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and she wears no makeup at all, which is quite unusual for her. 

“Of course you are,” Philip says, and Danielle notices the way that his hands move — involuntarily, it seems — to reach for Molly’s before pulling back, likely as he becomes aware of the situation and the fact that that sort of comfort is no longer assumed between the two of them.

“I’m going to go upstairs and get dressed,” Danielle says, feeling as awkward for intruding upon this private moment as she does for being in her robe. 

“Oh, Brent texted me after you went into your room last night,” Molly says, “though I guess it’s all over the news now, anyway. Helen was arrested already."

“Really? For Cameron’s murder?"

Molly furrows her brow. “Yeah. There’s a fairly obvious connection. It was only a matter of time."

“I guess so,” Danielle says, her heart beating a little faster as something works at her brain. “I’ll be right back, okay?"


Paula Fisher stands at the kitchen counter, pouring hot coffee into a pair of mugs. Coils of white steam rise off the dark surface of the liquid before fading into the air.

“It’s appalling,” she says as she brings both mugs to the kitchen table, where her son awaits. “That judge never should have granted her bail."

“I don’t know what to think,” Tim Fisher says as he accepts one of the coffees from her. “It could be a copycat. Or it could mean that Helen is innocent entirely."

“If she were behind bars, maybe. But she’s out there running free! She was waiting to strike again, and that judge gave her all the freedom in the world to do it."

“Do you really believe that, Mom? That the Helen you’ve known all these years is really a psychotic killer?"

Paula purses her lips as she wraps her palms around the comfortingly hot ceramic of the mug. “I don’t know what to think anymore. But my son is dead, and a very close friend of the family is dead, and now Molly’s poor assistant, too. Someone did this."

“I don’t know much about Cameron,” Tim says, “but don’t you think it’s weird he was killed in Molly’s office?"

“What are you saying?"

Tim bites his lip as he considers his next words. “What if it was a trap for Molly? I don’t want to scare you, but—"

“Well, you are! I’ve already lost one child.” She falls back against her chair and looks up to the ceiling. 

“Sorry.” He quietly sips his coffee as he reconsiders his approach. “All I mean is that we should all be very, very careful. It still bothers me that Sandy was killed in a place Jason was supposed to be, and now it happens to Cameron in a place Molly should’ve been."

Paula’s expression stiffens with dread. “Why would someone want to do this to our family?"

“I don’t know,” he says, “but I have some ideas, and I’m going to make sure Brent looks into them."


Trevor fast-forwards certain sections of the recording, once he ascertains that they have to do with subjects that won’t affect his department or his work in any major way. As much as he appreciates being in the loop about yesterday’s meeting, he also is a little grateful that he didn’t have to sit through the entire thing. Nevertheless, trying to catch what is relevant to him actually does provide something of a distraction, and there are a few minutes in which he almost manages to forget about Cameron’s murder entirely. Almost.

When the doorbell rings, it jars him so much that he nearly jumps out of his chair. Once he realizes what the noise was, he quickly heads out of the room and down the stairs, leaving the recorder running as it plays through a particularly boring section of the meeting. 

“Hey,” he says when he opens the door to Alex. “How are you holding up?"

“I don’t know. This is so weird. Can I come in?"

“Yeah. Of course."

Trevor closes the door and leads Alex to the living room, where Alex takes a seat on the couch and Trevor decides to join him, though he leaves a full cushion between them. 

  Trevor Brooks

“I can’t believe he’s dead,” Alex says, his usually animated voice strangely flat today. “And the last time I talked to him, it was… not great."

“You can’t blame yourself for that."

“Can’t I? He was upset at me after he found out you and I slept together."

“Yeah, but you guys weren’t dating then."


“I’m not saying Cameron didn’t have a right to be mad about it,” Trevor cuts in, “but you’ve gotta let yourself off the hook a little. You dated him. You didn’t marry him."

“I guess. I just hate the idea that he died so mad at me. Not that this is all about me, obviously."

“I get what you’re saying.” 

“Anyway,” Alex says, folding his hands over one knee, “I came over to see how you’re doing. You seemed pretty rattled in your texts."

“I can’t get over the idea that I might’ve been there while he was dead — or while it was happening — and not known. I was right there."

“But you didn’t see anything or hear anything. Right?” 

“No! I mean, the light was on, and Cameron’s stuff was on his chair, but I didn’t think…” Trevor takes a deep breath as he walks himself through the scene for the umpteenth time. “Nothing to make me think that was happening."

“It isn’t exactly something you assume."

“Yeah.” Trevor nods his head toward the stairs. “This is gonna sound super-weird, but I actually have something to give you. From Cameron."


“Yeah. Some digital recording thing you left at his place a while ago. He used it to record that meeting for me yesterday and made a point of telling me I could be the one to give it back to you."

“That does sound like Cameron when he’s angry,” Alex says. 

“Want me to go grab it for you?"

“In a little bit, and only if you’re done with it. Could I have a glass of water, though? I’m a little…” He gestures toward his throat, which has felt dry and cracked all morning, no doubt due to his complete lack of sleep.

“Sure. Come on."

Trevor leads the way into the kitchen, and Alex follows.

Upstairs, the recorder reaches the end of yesterday’s meeting. There is the barely perceptible click of it being turned off, and then, a moment later, another click indicating that recording has begun again. Seconds of silence pass before Cameron’s voice can be heard faintly: 

“Molly?” he calls out. When there is no answer, Cameron speaks again. “Molly?”

More quiet.

“What are you doing here?” Cameron asks, and then the muffled sounds of a struggle ensue, but they go unheard by any audience as the recorder sits alone in Trevor’s room.


“Thanks for coming by,” Molly says as she leads Philip to the front door. “I really appreciate it."

“Of course. I just hoped I wouldn’t be intruding,” he says. “I was so shocked when I heard. I feel as though I’ve gotten to know Cameron a bit the past few years, and I was worried about you…"

Molly turns to him as they reach the door. “No, it means a lot that you came.” Her face still feels puffy from crying, and there is a nagging sense of exhaustion that won’t stop tugging at her.

“Okay. You know I…” He tugs down the cuff of one sleeve of his oxford shirt, and then the other. It is one of the few nervous tics he allows himself, Molly observed back when they began seeing one another. 

“I haven’t stopped caring about you,” Philip says. “Or loving you, really. I hope it isn’t too forward of me to say that, but… with everything that’s happened, all these people dying and now something like this happening right in your office — I’d hate the thought of something happening to either of us without making sure you know that."

She nods slowly, absorbing what he has said. Even with as buttoned-down and proper as he can be, such genuineness shines through. In the face of the recent deaths and the fear that seems to be creeping over King’s Bay with every passing day, there is something comforting indeed about knowing that there is still love in the world. 

“Thank you.” She sniffles as she attempts to choose her next words carefully. “Philip, it isn’t that I stopped caring about you — or loving you. It’s that I felt the trust wasn’t there. But…"

He brightens immediately. “But what?"

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m tired and emotional and— maybe this is a conversation we should have later."

“I understand.” He reaches for the doorknob and pulls open the door; a shock of summer heat rushes into the house. “Take care, Molly. And I’m so sorry for your loss."

“Thanks for coming.” She watches the door close behind him and listens to the familiar sound of his BMW starting up in the driveway. She knows that what Philip did — lying to her in order to cover for Spencer — was wrong, but in light of all the terrible things that have been surrounding them lately, is it possible that she was too hard on him?

Realizing that she is too exhausted to process the complex idea coherently right now, she returns to the couch and closes her eyes, hoping for at least a few minutes of sleep.


If not for the rush of adrenaline that has been fueling him for the last twelve or fourteen hours, Brent Taylor would feel like an absolute zombie right now. In all the madness following Cameron’s murder and Helen’s latest arrest, he has not yet slept. He knows that a crash is coming, probably sooner rather than later, but there are a few odds and ends he wants to attend to before he lets that happen. He is just settling back in at his desk when his cell phone goes off.

He sees his sister’s name on the display and quickly answers. “Hey. What’s up?"

“Helen’s back in jail?” Danielle asks.

“Yep. At least for the time being, things should be safe. There’s no way she’ll be granted bail again."

“You’ve got the wrong person. At least for Cameron’s murder."

Brent’s whole body tenses. “What do you mean?"

“Helen didn’t kill Cameron,” Danielle says, “and I can prove it."


What does Danielle know about Helen?
Will Trevor listen to the recording again?
Could Tim’s theory about the killer be correct?
Discuss it all in the Footprints Forum now!

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Thursday, August 20, 2015

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