Fantasy League Rank.
1(=) Stefan/Crystal Army - 9025.1
2(=) Kitty/Julie - 8497.6
3(=) Marley/Travis - 5628.8
4(=) Bree/Santana - 5435.8
5(=) Harmony/Amity - 4156.5
6(=) Kara/Rhythmix - 3557.3
7(=) Luke/Mercedes - 2471.6
8(=) Charlie/Lyric - 2320.3
9(=) Artie/Sarah - 1862
10(=) Jeremy/Tracy - 1771
11(=) Peyton/Dean - 1465
12(=) Rory/Xavier - 1388
13(=) Ryder/Riley - 123
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"I didn't mean it," said Julie, sitting in Bree's living room for another brunch.
"I'm sure he knows that," John responded.
"No, he doesn't," she insisted. "You guys should've seen the look on his face when he told me to leave. He hated me. For lying about the marriage license, for being confused about this whole situation."
"Julie, he's not seeing things from the outside like we are," Marley said. "He's not bombarded with all of this negativity towards him, which is good for him but... He has no clue how we all see it."
"That's bullshit," Bree jumped in. Everyone turned to her. "Sorry, but it is," she continued. "Julie, how could you have any doubts about this? He's your husband."
"Technically not," Kitty interjected.
"Maybe not legally," said Bree, rolling her eyes, "but still. He'd never do something like this. He adores you, Julie. And he's never cheated on anyone in his whole life. He sure as hell wouldn't blackmail or murder or hire an assassin for crying out loud."
She glanced around the table. John, Julie, Jake, Marley, Ryder and Stefan were all quiet. Even Kitty didn't have much else to add.
"It makes me sick to even think about it," Bree continued. "Not the possibility that he did it because he didn't. But the fact that any of you would even for a second doubt him. Especially you, Julie. Wake up. You showed him doubt and he's hurt. No matter how hard it is for the rest of us out here to stay positive, I assure you that it's a hundred, no, a thousand times worse for him. Stuck in there."
***
"Wednesday," said Eugene, sitting in front of Alex at the prison. "Probably. Unless any new evidence comes in after. Lab reports will get in on Tuesday or Wednesday morning. With those, we'll probably be able to prove you didn't have probable cause and charges will be dropped. You'll be exonerated. Or maybe they'll go through with the court date and still let the jury decide. Deliberation could be just a few hours, a day, two days... But by Friday they'll make their decision."
Alex nodded. "How are my odds looking right now?"
"Well, that's actually why I'm here," said Eugene. "We're not sure what else the prosecutors have. They could file new evidence by Wednesday besides the DNA results. They could have nothing new to contribute. We don't know until they show us."
"Ok..."
"But they've set a new, final offer," said Eugene.
***
Alex walked into the cafeteria with his plate almost full. Since joining a gang, his privileges seemed to be better, with better servings and extra treats at every meal.
Owen and Heath sat waiting for him, waving him over as he walked lifelessly towards him. On his way to the table, however, he stopped. He wasn't sure why he did what he did next. Maybe it was because he was tired of this routine, tired of waiting, of behaving, of living his life by other people's rules.
Instead of sitting down at what was now his usual table, he walked past it to a different table. The table where known arsonist, Joel Hertzog, was having lunch with his pals, or as Alex privately called them, team of sociopathic sycophants.
Setting his plate down heavily, Alex sat down at the table, uninvited, and the whole room seemed to fall silent, as people stopped eating to glance his way.
Hertzog himself, a large, white man with tattoos covering his arms completely, continued eating, eyeing Alex, who did the same. The silence was chilling to everyone else.
After a couple of still seconds, Hertzog stood up, without any words to indicate what he might do next. But Alex had heard, had seen it coming, and was therefore not surprised when he was getting shoved out of his seat and immediately thrown to the ground.
***
"Oh my god," said Bree, marching into the prison medical room where Alex was recovering from his wounds. "What the hell, Alex."
"It's just a couple bruises," he said, though it was difficult for him to keep from groaning when she hugged him in greeting.
"This is more than that," she said, examining his injuries. "What happened? Who did this? Why? This should be enough to get you moved, Alex. If the prisoners don't like you and you're in danger—"
But Alex shook his head. "No, they won't move me. I already told the guards that I was the one who picked the fight."
"You did what?!" Bree exclaimed.
"The lawyers think I should take a new plea deal," said Alex. "If I plead guilty, they'll convict me and... I'll get twenty years. Chance for early release."
"That's insane," said Bree. "You're innocent."
"Yeah," he agreed, "but it might be my best option."
"Twenty years is a long time," said Bree. "You can't seriously be considering this."
"If I don't take the deal by Wednesday's court date," said Alex, "then that could be my last court date. And then I could be sentenced and it could be my whole life, Bree. They have that diary, the pregnancy, that tape of me at the scene... All they need at this point is to figure out who physically committed the murder. Then they'll say I paid them and send me to jail for it. It could be less than a lifetime but it'll still be a lot."
"But you're innocent," Bree repeated.
"And someone has made sure to make it look like I'm not," said Alex. "Whoever's behind this thought of everything. And... I think I should take this deal. Twenty years and... if I can survive it—"
"Alex," Bree begged, "you'll have a daughter in less than three months. If you don't get out of here... you'll miss that. You'll miss her entire childhood. You're innocent, Alex, and you can get out. I know you can. As soon as everyone knows you aren't the father, you'll get out. The fact that they gave you a new deal means they know you will. And that's why they want to rush you into prison without even going there. So please. I'm begging you. No matter what Julie has said or what anyone else thinks, I believe in you. It may not seem like it to you but your entire family believes in you, including Julie. You can't give up. You don't belong here."
***
"He didn't take the deal," Julie walked into John's house on Tuesday morning. "The lawyers just called me. He's not going to take it."
She sighed with relief and helped herself down on the couch. John took a seat beside her and asked, "You ready for tomorrow then?"
"Not at all," Julie shook her head. "But Jake thinks the second autopsy results will be back before the trial even starts and charges will be dropped as soon as that test proves Alex isn't the father."
"Well, it helps that Tyler put out his statement about Alex's innocence this morning," said John. "And Sam is going to be on that stand tomorrow."
"We might just be able to get him out of there, John," she smiled. "He'll be with us by the end of the week."
"He will," John agreed. He looked down at his phone and complained, "I'm just waiting for Sam to get back to me. Since he wasn't at the courthouse the day I was on the stand, we need our accounts of those nights on tour to match. I figured I should also warn him about the prosecutor's personal attacks. But he hasn't answered me."
"Well, the twins are with Alex's parents," shrugged Julie. "They haven't been with him all weekend and he hasn't checked in even once. I wonder what he's up to."
***
With a breath of pleasure and exhaustion, Sam rolled over in bed and landed down on his back, pushing in his pillow before setting his head back.
"As much as I'm enjoying this," he said, "I should probably get going."
"Just ten more minutes," said Quinn, rolling onto her side and smiling up at him.
"That's what you said the last time," he responded. "And the time before that, the time before that..."
The door opened without morning and Sam had the impulse to hide under the sheets. "Nate!" he heard Quinn exclaim as she tugged the sheets more to cover herself up.
"I can't find my Dash," he said, a frown on his face.
"Uh..." Quinn replied nervously. "It's um... Have you checked under your bed?" Nate nodded. "Then... check under the couch! You had all the toys in the living room the other day, remember? Go on and I'll be over to help you look in a little bit, ok?"
Nate was hesitant but finally he left the room in search of his toy. When he was gone, Sam gasped for air and said, "That was close."
"I am not ready for this to come to an end," she sighed. "These last few days have been... blissful."
"Sadly," he got up and searched for his clothes, "the real world awaits."
***
Jake sat on his computer on the kitchen table when Leila, wearing a long, comfy dress and slippers, came out with a bag slinged over her shoulder. "Ok, final reminder," she said. "We have our final prenatal this afternoon. Kayli wants me to come over to talk about a few band things but I'll just meet you at the hospital, ok?"
"I will be there," Jake nodded, smiling.
She could see how stressed he was lately, especially with trying to help out Alex and Julie, so she just nodded back and walked out of the house.
Jake returned his attention to the screen. He had gained access to the security footage being used to prove that Alex was at the scene of the crime. He examined every shot, frame by frame, attempting to discover any other people passing through or perhaps talking to Alex but there were none. The only person he saw was Casey's roommate, but she was in and out of the house so quickly that there was no way she had enough time to do it.
As he looked through the shots for what felt like the hundredth time, he noticed from one frame to another there was a slightly weird jump. He played it again and again and saw that a basketball in one frame was gone the next. The security footage had been edited.
Quickly, he reached for his phone and made a call. After a couple of seconds, he said, "Hey. It's Jake. I think I need your uh, services, once again."
***
"Paternity test isn't there yet," said Kara, staring at her computer. "I've been monitoring the morgue files and nothing's changed."
Beside her, Peyton and Jake crouched behind the former's sister, Becca, who was typing away furiously attempting to hack the city's street security cameras which were facing Casey Hargrove's apartment building. "I feel like I probably shouldn't be in the room while this is happening," said Jake. "And we should've done it on a public WiFi."
"No worries, superstar," Becca responded as she typed. "I've rerouted the IP, made it untraceable. Lima isn't exactly the best model of security. They wouldn't see a hack if it hit them in their donut crumb covered faces."
"She won't get caught, in other words," Kara said. "She is the best of the best when it comes to this stuff."
"And I'm almost there..." Becca said, drawing out the sentence until she gave a key one final, hard hit. "There! Got it! I have access but it's going to be for just a few minutes and then I'll be autoblocked out so... Look fast."
"Timetable's here," Peyton slipped a sheet of paper to her sister.
Becca looked down and quickly searched for the footage. When she landed on the proper day, when Alex's car was seen arriving, she began to scrub through footage.
"Wait, wait, wait, there," Jake stopped her after a couple of seconds. "Go back a little and slow it down."
Becca did as ordered and returned to the point when the ball could be seen being picked up by a child and dribbled away down the parking lot. Then one more person could be seen walking in and out of the apartment.
"Sebastian Smythe," Jake said, squinting his eyes at the image in disbelief.
"Holy shit," Peyton responded, and they all looked at each other, unsure what to do from here.
***
After anonymously delivering the found footage to both the DA and defense team, Jake prepared himself to go down to the court and witness it all happening on his own. The paternity test would come in and prove Alex's innocence. Then the footage, now added into evidence, would paint a new target on Sebastian's head.
As Jake walked out the door, however, Leila walked out of her bedroom, pissed and exhausted. "Where the hell are you going?" she asked. "You got in super late last night."
"Right," he said, turning to her and feeling like he'd just been caught in his own crime. "I'm so sorry. I got caught up with something but... I'm glad you're up. I didn't get to tell you last night that we found—"
"I don't care," Leila cut him off. "You promised you'd be there. This is our baby we're talking about, Jake."
"You're right, I'm sorry," he sighed. "We can reschedule. Tomorrow?"
"Oh no no," she shook her head. "We're going now. No more excuses, Jake."
Jake thought about the trial, about witnessing the revelation of the footage and finding out what would happen to Sebastian, but Leila was too upset to argue with. And she was right to be. She and the baby had to be his priority no matter what.
***
"State your name for the court."
"Juliet Vasquez."
"And do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, under pains and penalties of perjury?"
Julie gleamed in Alex's direction. Not even two minutes on the stand and shew as already shaking. "I do," she said. Then wincing at her last failed major I Do, she said, "I mean, yes."
Stefan snickered at the irony but Bree elbowed him. "Shut up," she warned.
"Ms. Vasquez, how long have you known Mr. Zimmerman?" asked the prosecutor, pacing in front of Julie and making her more nervous than she already was.
"A long time," she responded. "Like, eleven or twelve years."
"And how long have you been romantically involved with him?" asked the prosecutor.
Julie thought about it. "Uh... I think it's now about fifteen months since we started dating."
"Before you got together, you were both in public relationships with other people, correct?" said the prosecutor.
"Uh..." Julie said.
"Just answer yes or no," said the prosecutor.
"Well, yes, but," Julie began.
"Would you say that you were romantically involved while he was dating someone else?"
Eugene stood up. "Objection. Relevance?"
The judge said, "Substained," and the prosecutor was made to move on.
"Ms. Vasquez, you've heard witness statements about Mr. Zimmerman's whereabouts on nights when he wasn't with you in the past months. Did you ever have times when he was out and you had no idea where he was?"
"Yes, of course, but—" said Julie.
"And were any of those nights, nights when Ms. Collins and Ms. Hargrove's diary set him to be with them?"
Julie hesitated. "Yes..." she answered honestly.
"Interesting," said the prosecutor. "So timeline-wise... the affair does make sense?"
"What?" Julie said, confused.
"Ms. Hargrove could've been telling the truth. You can't provide an alibi for Mr. Zimmerman's whereabouts in the moments that she claimed to be having clandestine meetings with your, for the sake of this let's call him, husband."
"I—" said Julie. "I guess. But he didn't—"
"In the time that you've been together," the prosecutor continued, "did Mr. Zimmerman ever hurt you? Physically put his hands on you? And remember you are under oath."
"No," Julie said immediately. "He has never ever hit me."
"Interesting," said the prosecutor. "Your Honor, Jury... I present to you another piece of evidence. Ms. Vasquez's professional work."
Confused, Julie watched as the prosecutor hit a clicker in her hand and the screen next to the jury showed her at the AMAs.
"Objection," Eugene stood up again. "This is in no way relevant to—"
"I will prove my point in a second, Your Honor," said the prosecutor.
"Overruled," nodded the judge, forcing Eugene to sit back down.
Alex crossed his hands and covered his mouth with them, trying to focus on whatever was happening. The prosecutor pressed play and Julie was setting herself on fire on the screen. Many of the jury members looked shocked, seeing this for the very first time.
"This, ladies and gentlemen of the jury," said the prosecutor, "occured last November at the American Music Awards, just a few weeks before the night when Mr. Zimmerman was said to have met Ms. Hargrove in Los Angeles. Many critics and fans have analyzed both the song and the performance as a cry for help from Ms. Vasquez."
"It's not—" Julie began.
"Allow me to present a direct quote from Ms. Vasquez," said the prosecutor, reaching for a notecard from her legal team. "This was printed on a magazine just four months ago. Ms. Vasquez states, 'Everything I write comes from my heart and from a place of truth. You don't hear me writing about parties and about drugs and drinking very often because that's just not the life I live. Cars, jewelry. It's not me What I write about is my life and the people around me.' Is this quote accurate?"
"I mean, yes," Julie responded. "That's what I said but—"
She could sense where this was headed but couldn't stop it. "Great," said the prosecutor. "Then allow me to present the jury who may not be familiar with Ms. Vasquez's work several lyrics from various songs writen by her. Let the record show that these songs were all released after the cited beginning of her relationship with Mr. Zimmerman."
"Can you stop whatever this is?" Alex whispered to Eugene, who just shook his head and listened. The judge was too interested in this eccentric argument to ever stop it.
"Glass is shattered from the fight," read the prosecutor. "You feed me fables from your hand with violent words and empty threats."
Alex nudged Eugene, who stood up and attempted anyway, "Objection!"
"Overruled," said the judge. Alex turned to Julie, staring at her as she appeared horrified by how her art was being used against them.
"I try to run but I don't ever wanna leave," said the prosecutor. "Ms. Vasquez, did you write this song as a cry for help from an abusive and intolerable relationship with Mr. Zimmerman?"
"Objection your honor," Eugene insisted. "This evidence is argumentative, inflammatory and assumes—"
"Overruled," said the judge again.
"My point," said the prosecutor, "is that as a songwriter, wirting as she herself stated to be true stories, Ms. Vasquez has provided us with the same thing that Ms. Hargrove's diary did. True stories. Evidence of Mr. Zimmerman's anger issues, abuse, and therefore, capability to commit a heinous crime if provoked to do so." Approaching Julie she added, "I know that you may feel scare or perhaps threatened and that's understandable. But there's been a lot of talk in the press, as I'm sure you know, about this controversial song with Marshall Mathers, known professionally as Eminem. And the fact that this, along with setting yourself on fire on stage, was a cry for help from the abuse faced under Alex Zimmerman."
"What?!" Julie exclaimed.
"That's hearsay, your honor," said Eugene. "Immaterial and completely irrelevant."
"I'm simply trying to establish—" said the prosecutor.
But the judge pounded the gavel and said, "Your point, please."
The prosecutor nodded and returned to Julie. "If I may... It's also notable that many songs pointed to suspicions of infidelity, songs which you didn't publish as your own, but rather have writing credits on while your friends, other artists, sing them. For example, some of the songs on Ms. Santana Lopez's albums. She's a fellow musician and friend."
"Yes," said Julie. "But songs are stories, not always completely autobiographical."
The prosecutor nodded but said, "I ask the members of the jury to play close attention and decide for yourselves. Quote, 'You love when I fall apart so you can put me together and throw me against the wall.' 'It beats me black and blue.' Ms. Lopez is currently touring so we cannot have her here to discuss the background for all of these songs but there is one in particularly in which Ms. Vasquez seems to lay it all on the table here, almost as though completing piece by piece everything which Ms. Hargrove and Ms. Collins have given us. Listen for yourselves.
***
["I Don't Know Why" from Star.]
Santana: Oh oh no no baby.
Santana stood on the empty stage of her upcoming Connecticut concert. She had a first sound check, then several interviews in the area, but the only thing she wished she was doing was sitting home, waiting for news from her friends at the courthouse.
Santana: It's 3 o'clock in the morning. I figured this call might wake you up. But I can't wait till the morning. I'm on my fifth round and I don't care. I'm turnt up so wake up. Oh you oh you gotta hear me babe. You need to feel me baby. I'm--
Little did she know that as she rehearsed, the very same song was being used against her friends by an intense prosecutor.
Santana: So tired too tired all the things you do. I don't know why. I ain't never been tricked like this. But I ain't never been kissed like this except by you by you. I ain't never been loved like this. I ain't never been touched, I ain't never gave a fuck like this.
***
"'And it just makes me hate and love you more,'" read the prosecutor.
Santana: And it just makes me hate and love you more. I just don't get it baby.
Admittedly, Alex had never taken the time to listen to all of the songs Julie had written for other artists. He'd heard word of it but hearing them line by line now was as surprising to him as it was to other people in the room.
Santana: Don't know why I keep on crushing on you babe. Save my loving for you babe. Keep on seeing you needing you like I do. Cause no one makes me this mad. No one gets me this turned on. But no one makes me this sad.
Julie sat with her brow furrowed, trying to understand how this was happening. She'd written the song a year earlier and for completely different reasons, but at the same time they weren't so different.
Santana: Baby I don't know why I keep on falling for you babe. Keep on calling on you babe. Keep on seeing you needing you like I do. Cause no one else has your touch. No one else has your problem. No one makes me feel loved like you.
She had fantasized a couple of times about how she'd confront Alex on one of those nights that he came in late, a little drunk. How she'd accuse him of being with Kara and not take any of his lies. But just the thought of it made her realize she wouldn't be able to stop him, and this song was the result.
Santana: When we first started out everything was great. Stayed hand in hand even though we was both like night and day. But when I think back I'm afraid that I don't know exactly where at but you flipped the script changed the words hold up its coming back.
***
Santana knew this very well. She had asked similar questions when the song was first presented to her.
Santana: Now I remember clearly it was a Saturday you came walking in tip toeing. Through the halls all soft cause you thought I was sleeping and what's this? Smelling like perfume I don't wear, olives on your breath. Even though you hate martinis with a twist.
But Julie assured her that it all came from insecurities, not real life events.
Santana: And it just makes me hate and love you more I just don't get it baby. Don't know why I keep on crushing on you babe. Save my loving for you babe. Keep on seeing you needing you like I do. Cause no one else has your touch. No one else has your problem. No one makes me feel loved like you.
***
"There are parts of the song that are deeply troubling," said the prosecutor. "That any psychology expert can tell you shows disfunctional partenership, unhealthy dependency, fear of a loved one."
Santana: Need you when I hate it that I need you like I do. Want you so I love it that I want you like I do. Crave you and I hate it that I crave you like I do. Love you so I love it that I love you like I do.
There's one line in particular that disturbs me," the prosecutor continued. "'I keep on standing by and you keep on acting foul. This time you crossed the line. Never would've thought you'd put your hands on me.'"
Santana: I said I don't know why. I keep on standing by. And you keep on acting foul. This time you crossed the line -- Never would've thought you'd put your hands on me, I--
Eugene attempted to object again but the prosecutor assured that she was almost done making her point.
Santana: You done lost your fucking mind. And I'm 'bout to lose mine. Cause I love you, love you, love you, love you, but I do. Said I hate you, love you, hate you, love you. And no one makes me feel loves liked you.
After getting through the last lines, she closed the Santana chapter of the trial and turned her attention back to Julie, who had a hard time snapping out of her thoughts.
Santana: Oh no no no...
"Did you or did you not write this song about Alex Zimmreman?" asked the prosecutor.
"Asked and answered, your honor," objected Eugene.
But Julie still chose to answer again, this time more clearly. "Yes," she said, shocking even some of her friends. "Some of it." There were murmurs but they all shut down when she continued speaking, far less composed than she had been before. "But not all of it. Just doubts. It wasn't ever true or anything and I never—"
"No further questions," said the prosecutor.
Eugene rose from his seat to take over but Julie said. "No," she said. "She didn't let me finish."
"Please explain further then, if you must," the prosecutor stayed by her side.
"Well," Julie cleared her throat. "About a year ago, one of his friends, an ex girlfriend pressumed dead... long story... She wasn't and they briefly discussed it at the last trial. Anyway. She returned and I was... insecure. I wrote several songs about it. Trying to process it. And yeah, ok, for a bit, I thought maybe he had cheated on me or was going to or... I don't know. But he didn't. He never did. There are references to those fears in some of my songs, but it's not based on anything that ever happened." She turned to the jury and said, "You have to believe me. Any doubts I had towards my husband's fidelity were stupid. We'd just gotten engaged and I never would've married him if I didn't fully trust him."
"But you didn't marry him," said the prosecutor. "As we've established, you didn't legally marry Mr. Zimmerman. An informal ceremony took place but it wasn't legal. Did you know about this?"
"Yeah but—" said Julie.
"Then how can you expect anyone to believe that you were a hundred percent sure," said the prosecutor, "when you didn't actually go through with your plans?"
Julie stared at the prosecutor, then at Alex, and then at the floor. She didn't know how to properly answer that without digging herself into a deeper hole.
***
"That was brutal," said Kara as she and Peyton stepped out during the first recess of what was set to be a very long day.
Peyton was more concerned with something else. "They haven't even mentioned the footage. Or the paternity test. I'm getting really annoyed."
"Well, we have two hours during which all of that could be submitted into evidence," shrugged Kara.
"No, it should've already happened," Peyton disagreed. Spotting Julie on her way to the bathroom she said, "We have to do something."
***
As Eugene prepared his next argumetns, Julie interrupted him and asked directly, "Did you receive footage putting Sebastian Smythe at the scene of the crime?"
"Uh..." Eugene responded. "Yes. I did."
"And you didn't use it?" exclaimed Julie. "Why in the world not?"
"Because I'm positive that it was illegally obtained," said Eugene. "And I can't risk our case, my reputation, my career... Using illegally obtained evidence is a risk, Juliet. I'm sorry. We can win this without that because regardless, Alex is not shown entering that apartment. Those are the facts with or without the missing footage."
He walked away and Julie slumped down on a nearest chair. She could hear the press and paparazzi outside of the courthouse. And now she was getting a headache.
While searching for her to find out what was happening with the footage, Peyton walked into the wrong hall and witnessed instead something else. Sebastian Smythe was there, talking to Eugene. They shook hands and then Sebastian headed out an emergency exit, along with a bodyguard.
"Shit," she said to herself. She had to take matters into her own hands.
***
Two hours later, the recess ended and everyone was forced to return to the courtroom. Julie took her seat and was joined by John and Kara. Shortly after, Peyton slid in beside them. "Did I miss anything?" she asked.
"Nope," Kara answered. "They're just getting started."
The prosecutor walked up to the judge with an envelope and said, "Your Honor, before we proceed, new evidence has come into my hands. I ask that it is immediately procced and reviewed."
"What evidence?" asked Eugene. "I didn't receive anything."
"It was just published to the Lima Daily," said the prosecutor. "Apparently, new leaked footage which was originally edited out of the security tapes shows another person arriving at Casey Hargrove's apartment on the afternoon of her death. And this person actually enters the apartement."
There was a lot of commotion. The judge asked to see the evidence and the DA showed the screenshots from the frames with Sebastian shown in and out of the apartment, at precisely the right times to have murdered her and served himself a cup of tea.
"I ask now," said the prosecutor, "that we list the man present in the footage, Sebastian Smythe, as a new suspect and accomplice to Mr. Zimmerman."
"What," Peyton murmured. "Accomplice?"
"We would like to press charges, ask for his arrest and that he testify," said the prosecutor. "We believe that he could've been the killer Mr. Zimmerman was staking out outside."
There were many murmurs following, people surprised to hear Sebastian of all people was involved. Alex had no idea what to think.
As the judge looked over the footage, along with the attorney and Alex's lawyer, Kara leaned into Peyton and asked, "What did you do?"
"Turns out they needed a legitimate source to use the footage," Peyton shrugged. "I'm a legitimate source. I published it online during the recess, my editor owed me. I figured the DA would want bigger fish to go after but now they want to convict them both."
Confirming this, the prosecutor said, "We would like to use this along with a new open investiagtion, to prove that Mr. Smythe murdered Casey Hargrove, while Mr. Zimmerman waited outside for it to happen. Murder and conspiracy to murder."
Eugene shook his head. "No, Your Honor," he protested. "I believe that this is enough to show that Alex's presence there was merely circumstantial. Sebastian Smythe is the real target and my client was wrongfully imprisoned."
The door opened and a worked from the DA's office arrived, running up to the prosecutor with an enevelope. The prosecutor responded by smiling and rushing up to the judge once again. "More evidence, Your Honor," she said. "The paternity test from the second autopsy has finally been completed and should be filed into evidence immediately."
"Very well," the judge held out a hand for the envelope. Everyone awaited as the judge dug into the enevelope, leaving everyone in high anticipation, and then said, "The DNA test taken posthumous shows that the baby Casey Hargrove was expecting... is in fact a match with Mr. Zimmerman. He is the father."
"What?!" various protests from the defendant's side of the room. Julie's eyes widened in horror. Just as she thought there was proof that it wasn't Alex, the biggest proof that it could've still been him arrived.
"We will go into recesses once again," ordered the judge, "and return to court promptly at 8 am on Friday morning to deliberate how these new pieces of evidence will change the trial and charges moving forward. Court dismissed."
As everyone left and Alex was taken back into custody by the officers on watch, he tried to talk to Julie. But the moment he turned to her, she stood up and hurried out of the courthouse. No matter what the decision was on Friday, he was screwed.
***
"Sebastian was arrested a few hours after we left the courthouse," Kara said as she sat in the visiting room with Alex the next day, talking to him through a phone, behind glass. "He got out on bail but I bet that won't last."
"Yeah, the lawyers told me," nodded Alex.
"Apparently," Kara continued, "Blackbird is in danger. The whole branch could be shut down now and everyone's freaking out."
"I don't even know what the point of me trying to get my freedom is anymore," Alex admitted. "Somehow that woman ended up pregnant with a child who might actually be mine and I don't know how she managed that. I mean... I don't think I've ever been that drunk but—"
"Do not start doubting yourself, Alex," she warned.
"Why not?" he shrugged. "Everyone else doubts me. Julie walked out and John could hardly look at me when we were leaving. Sam didn't end up giving his statement to defend me. Everyone was just done with me the moment those results came in."
"Peyton put her career on the line for you," said Kara. "And she'd do it all over again. We believe in you, Alex. We know there has to be an explanation for all of this. And maybe Sebastian is behind everything. We're going to find a way to prove it. You'll see. Me and Peyton and Jake..."
She received a message, looked down at the phone on her lap, and smiled.
"Speaking of," she said.
"Is that a phone?" asked Alex. "Kara, you're not supposed to bring that over here. You could get in trouble."
"Shhh," she shut him up. "Something's happened."
"What?" he asked.
A smile on her face, she answered, "Leila's in labor."
***
"Oh he's adorable," Travis said as he viewed the new baby through his computer, a Skype call from Luke showing him the baby. Born at 2 AM on Friday morning, a long long labor had given them the cutest baby he had ever seen.
"I wish you weren't in Puerto Rico right now," said Jake. "You could be here to see how much better he is in person." He glanced back and quietly added, "Leila was in labor for almost fifteen hours. She's so deep in sleep right now that I can probably get away with choosing the name before she wakes up."
Travis laughed and said, "Lay it on me then."
"Troy," Jake smiled down at the baby in his arms.
Luke held onto his phone and said, "Bolton."
"Just Troy," Jake clarified.
"I like it," Travis nodded. "A lot."
"Good," Jake responded. "Because Leila and I talked it over a lot these last few weeks and... Well, we want you guys to be the godparents."
"Seriously?" responded Travis with joy. "Oh wow, I'd love that."
"Wait, you guys?" said Luke. "As in, also me? I'm genuinely shocked."
Jake laughed, then said, "Well, we considered Travis and Sebastian but given recent developments..."
His joked caused and awkward silence, which Travis broke by asking, "Do you think he actually did it?"
"You know him better than I ever could," Jake shrugged. "You tell me."
***
Walking into court that morning, Alex took his seat and took advantage of the moments before they were set to start to have a look around. Dressed in a great, expensive suit, Sebastian was seated beside his own lawyer, looking very confident and prepared to fight this.
Many of Alex's friends were back, but many were not. Kitty didn't show up. Or Stefan or Bree or Sam or Quinn or Dan or Harmony or Ryder or even Jake, though that one was understandable given the baby. But Amity was there, Kara and Peyton, Addison even. And John and Marley. Tyler was there as well, no Morgan. It seemed those closer to Julie had, like her, chosen to give up on him already.
And that's when it hit him. Julie wasn't there either.
***
Julie had somewhere else she wanted to be right now. She couldn't bare another second in that courtroom but her parents were at her house, and she didn't want to face their judgment either, or her kids' questions or Sam's constant need to offer help and support.
The only place she could think of, where she'd last been able to find a sign on what to do, was church.
Feeling self-conscious about her sudden arrival, she thanked her lucky stars that there weren't other people there, and took a seat in a pew down the middle of the aisle.
Closing her eyes, she began to pray for guidance, for truth. For understanding. A sign to tell her what was and what wasn't. And unable to take anything anymore, she began to cry.
***
"My client is as much a victim of circumstance as Mr. Zimmerman," argued Sebastian's lawyer, an older gentleman who was clearly expensive. "As he explained to the police two nights ago, he was there to pay off Casey Hargrove, get her to retract her statement about the affair, as it was hurting his clients. Perhaps he's guilty of bribery but that is it since, as he said many times already, he left after she refused and that was the end of it."
Alex looked over at Sebastian, unsure of whether that sociopath was telling the truth or not. He was a bit stuck on the fact that given a big chance for a payout, Casey hadn't backed out. She was not looking for money.
The prosecutor argued, "Sebastian Smythe was the only person besides Ms. Collins to enter the crime scene at the time of the crime. And we've seen that Ms. Collins did not enter the apartment for long enough to have been able to kill her."
"There is a back stairway into the same hall of the complex," said Sebastian's lawyer. "It's not easy to access but anyone could've climbed up and reached the apartment from the back. It's not impossible that they entered, unseen by the cameras, and killed Ms. Hargrove after Mr. Smythe left, while Mr. Zimmerman was outside doing god knows what."
"Very well," said the judge. "After much deliberation, I've already come to a decision. Though there are certainly reasons to believe that there was motive on the part of Mr. Zimmerman, all other evidence presented is simply not enough to prove that he was involved in any conspiracy against Ms. Hargrove. Mr. Smythe has already denied being ordered to murder by Mr. Zimmerman. The footage serves as a clear alibi, where he can be seen in his car during the time of the murder. The LPD will continue its investigation into Mr. Zimmerman's involvement but as of now, I order that all charges against him are dropped for the murder of Ms. Hargrove."
Alex let out a sigh of relief. His friends hugged, cried in the case of Marley and Amity. Casey's friends, which primarily included Roxie and her friends, were upset by the decision, in tears.
The judge banged the gavel to return order and said, "As for Mr. Smythe, given that the investigation into his involvement is wide open and more evidence is pending..."
Alex stopped listening.
***
When the court was dismissed and Alex was released, his remaining friends couldn't wait to hug him. Sebastian was taken into custody for final statements but would also be released, though held under house arrest until his trial began.
All Alex could think of was getting home, to Julie, so that he could explain that the paternity test was false but at least he was free now.
Once outside, Alex was led down the steps of the courthouse by Addison, who was busy responding to every press question with "No comment." Beside him, Kara, Peyton and John escorted him toward's John's car.
He was free to go home.