EPISODE 130 - Playing Detective

"Technically, Catlin, Brittany WAS still your wife,"  Jay says.

 

Catlin sighs.  "I know.  I'm sorry.  It's just, this whole thing has me on edge."

 

"It has us all on edge," says Sue Ellen.

 

"I understand."

 

"Will I be able to go in with Sue Ellen when they're questioning her?"  Catlin asks.

 

"No, I'm afraid not,"  Jay replies.  "Only Sue Ellen and I."

 

"Catlin, while I'm talking to Detective Jones, why don't you go over and check on C.J.?  His apartment is only a few blocks from here, isn't it?"  Sue Ellen asks.

 

"Yes, it is, but I told him I'd stop by later, after we're done here.  Conner and Selena are with him now.  They've been good friends to my son since his mother died."

 

"And besides, it's better that you stick around, Catlin,"  says Jay.  "The police might wanna ask you a few more questions."

 

A worried look comes over Catlin's face as he and Sue Ellen exchange looks.

"Thanks, Conner, but, I'm really not that hungry," C.J. says.

 

"You have to keep your strength up, man.  And this pizza smells GREAT."

 

"Y'know, guys, you really don't have to hang around like this.  I appreciate it, but I know you have better things to do than hang around here with me all day."

"That really means a lot to me, Conner.  You guys are the really awesome friends."

 

"Hey, we're more than that, man,"  says Conner.  "We're family."

 

"Yes we are,"  C.J. says as the two Ewing cousins exchange a 'cool guy' handshake and 'bro hug.'  "Actually, this pizza does look pretty good."

 

"Here, then,"  Selena says, handing C.J. a large piece on a paper plate.  

 

C.J. smiles.  "Thanks," he says, taking a bite.

 

"C.J., have any arrangements been made for your Mom's funeral?"  Conner asks.

 

"Yeah, umm, she's gonna be taken back to Dry Creek, Wyoming, her home town, for burial this Saturday.  I'll be flying up there on Friday with my Dad.  That is, if the cops give him permission to leave Dallas."

 

"What do you mean?"  Selena asks.  "Why wouldn't they?"

 

"Because, my Dad is a suspect."

 

"That's ridiculous.  Uncle Catlin wouldn't kill anyone."

 

"Of course it's ridiculous,"  C.J. says.  "My Dad and my Mom had a lot of problems, but he's no killer."

 

 

 

 

"What about Sue Ellen?"  Selena asks.  "You think she could've done it?"

 

"Uh, Selena, I don't think we should talk about this,"  Conner says.

 

"Oh, God, C.J., I'm sorry.  That was really insensitive."

"No, Selena, it's fine,"  C.J. says.  "Really."  He puts his pizza down, then walks into the living room and looks out the window at the sprawling Dallas skyline.

 

Conner and Selena exchange looks, each of them worried about their cousin, and Selena feeling guilty for her unintentionally insensitive comment.  After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Conner walks over to C.J.  and puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  

 

C.J. turns to face him, tears in his eyes.  "Y'know, I remember when I was a little boy,"  he says, walking a few feet as he talks.  "I was terrified of thunder and lightening.  I must've been about 6 or 7, and one night my Dad was away working with my Uncle Larry, and we had a really bad storm.  I was scared to death.  And I remember this particularly loud crash of thunder just outside my bedroom window, and it was followed by lightening so bright that my whole bedroom lit up.  I jumped out of my bed, ran down the hall to my parents' room crying.  My Mom took me into the bed and she held me all night, talking to me and singing to me, and trying to keep me calm.  I know that, in later years she changed.  She did a lot of terrible things, like running out on my Dad and me.  But that night......that's the kind of stuff I've been remembering about her the last couple days.  Not the bad stuff, not the abandonment.  Just things she did for me when I was a little kid, like keeping me safe from this storm."

 

 

"Thanks, Conner, and you're right,"  C.J. says.  "My Mom and I had gotten off track, and we were estranged for a few years.  But I do have a lot of good memories of her. I just have to hold on to those.  And I'm also thankful to have family like you guys who are also......really great friends."

 

Conner smiles, then he and C.J. share a hug while Selena watches, a sad look on her face and tears streaming down her face.

 

 

 

"Now, then, Mrs. Ewing, on the night of the Oil Baron's Ball, you were taken ill?"  Steven Jones asks a nervous Sue Ellen as she and Jay sit across the table from him in the interrogation room at the police department.

 

"Yes."

 

"What was wrong with you?"

"I'm......I'm really not sure,"  Sue Ellen replies.

 

"What do you mean, 'you're not sure'?"  Steven asks.

 

"That night, I began to feel strange.  Dizzy, and faint.  As if I were intoxicated, but I hadn't had any alcohol."

 

"Were you on any medication?"

 

"No,"  replies Sue Ellen.  "I didn't even take any aspirin that night.  After feeling this way for several minutes, I fainted.  After that, I really don't remember much of anything about that night."

 

"Your brother-in-law, Bobby Ewing, and Catlin Ewing were looking for you at one point of the evening.  This was after the murder of Brittany Ewing.  Where were you at that time?  Around 10:30 PM?"

 

Sue Ellen looks at the young detective for a moment before answering.  "Detective......I honestly don't know.  I can't remember.  I have bits and pieces of memories.  I remember Catlin taking me into this room, and I was on a sofa.  John Ross was there, I think, I don't know.  And then they both left.  That's all I remember."

 

"What's the next thing you do remember?"  Steven asks.  

 

"I........I was with Bobby in another room."

 

"Another room?"  

 

"Detective Jones, is this line of questioning really necessary?" Jay asks.  

 

"Yes, Mr. Smithfield.  I'm simply trying to determine Mrs. Ewing's whereabouts at the time Brittany Ewing was murdered.  Mrs. Ewing, at any time that evening, between 10 to 10:30, did you see Brittany Ewing?"

 

Again, Steven's question is followed by a long pause from Sue Ellen.

 

"Mrs. Ewing?"  Steven says.

 

"No," she replies quickly, the tone of her answer arousing Steven's suspicion.  

 

"Are you sure?"  He asks.

 

"Mrs. Ewing already answered your question, Detective,"  Jay says.  "And if you have no further questions for her......"

 

"Yes,"  Steven says.  "You're free to go, Mrs. Ewing.  But please, don't leave town. We may need to talk to you again."

 

"Of course,"  Sue Ellen says.  She and Jay stand from their seats, followed by Steven.  "Thank you."  She manages a weak smile, then walks out of the room with Jay.  Outside, Catlin is waiting for them.  

 

"Sue Ellen, is everything alright?"  Catlin asks.

 

"Yes.  Just, please take me home,"  Sue Ellen says.  

 

Catlin nods, then he, Sue Ellen, and Jay all leave as Steven comes out of the interrogation room and watches them leave, a look of curiosity on his face.  In his mind, Steven is left unsatisfied by Sue Ellen's answers.  He knows she is hiding something.

brings the car to a stop in the parking area in rear of the house.  He reaches over and grabs his brief case from the passenger seat, then gets out.  As he is walking toward the house, Ann walks onto the patio and meets him.  

 

"Hi, honey," he says.

 

"Hi, yourself,"  Ann says, greeting her husband with a kiss.  "You alright?  You seem pretty down."

 

"I'm fine, it's just been one of those days."

 

"Did Sue Ellen come into the office?"  Ann asks.

 

"No, she didn't, but then I didn't expect her to.  I told her to take all the time off she needed."

 

 

 

"Well I did speak to her on the phone, and I know that she was scheduled to go down to the police station to answer some questions about Brittany, and her death," says Ann.  "She called me after it was all over."

 

"How'd it go?"

 

"Okay, I guess.  I'm still really worried about her, Bobby. But Sue Ellen continues to swear up and down that she wasn't drinkin' that night.  And, Bobby, I really think she's tellin' the truth."

 

"Well, honey, I'd like to think she's tellin' the truth, but if she wasn't drinking, then how else do you explain her strange behavior at the ball, and her passing out on stage?"

 

"I don't know.  But she was FINE when we went to the bathroom to try to wash that drink off of her dress after that waiter spilled it on her.  She wasn't actin' the least bit drunk.  How could she have gotten so wasted by the time she passed out?"

 

"That bothered the night of the ball.  But with everything else goin' on, I didn't think anything else of it.  But you're right.  Sue Ellen was fine, and then, only a short time later, she seemed to be so drunk she could barely stand up by herself.  Could she have been on some kind of medication?"

 

"I don't think so.  She would've told us if she had, rather than have everybody think she'd been drinkin'.  Bobby, is it possible that somebody could've drugged her?  Slipped somethin' in her drink?"

 

"Honey, I suppose it's possible, but who?"  Bobby asks.

 

"Itn't it obvious?  Brittany."

 

"Brittany?  That really would make sense, wouldn't it?  Brittany Ewing and Brad Stone came over to Catlin and Sue Ellen's table about the time that waiter spilled the drink on Sue Ellen's dress."

 

"Exactly,"  Ann says.  "Bobby, what if that spilled drink was not an accident?  What if it was done to create a diversion so that Brittany could slip somethin' into Sue Ellen's drink to make it look like she drunk?  I mean, what better way to humiliate Sue Ellen in public?"

 

"And come to think of it, Stone and Brittany did linger around that table while Sue Ellen was tryin' to wipe that wine off her dress."

 

"I'd bet my life that's what happened,"  Ann says.

 

"Honey, why don't you and I take a drive into town to see Catlin and Sue Ellen?  I think they need to hear this theory of ours."

 

"Let's go,"  Ann says.  She and Bobby hurry to Bobby's car and get in.  Moments later, 

Bobby's car turns out of the front gate of Southfork onto Braddock Road and speeds off in the direction of Dallas!

"But it certainly does make sense," says Sue Ellen.  "That would explain why, one minute, I felt fine, and the next, I was feeling dizzy and like I had been drinking when I hadn't. And this is exactly the kind of thing Brittany would've done to make me look foolish and humiliate me in front of my family and everyone else at the Ball."

 

"But how could Brittany have pulled this off?"  Catlin wonders.

 

"Probably when that waiter spilled the wine on Sue Ellen's dress," replies Bobby.  "That created a diversion, during which Brittany could've easily slipped something into Sue Ellen's drink."

 

"That's right, Sue Ellen, you DID finish your club soda when you came back to the table later," says Catlin.

 

"Well, at least now we know why you were feelin' and actin' the way you were," Ann says.

 

"Yes, but, that really doesn't help me much right now," Sue Ellen says.

 

"What do you mean?"  Ann asks.

 

"I still can't remember much of anything about that night," replies Sue Ellen.  "Only bits and pieces.  And because of the holes in my memory.........I'm afraid.  What if..........what if I was the one who killed Brittany?"

 

"Sue Ellen, that's ridiculous,"  Catlin says, walking over to her.  "You were in no condition that night to kill anybody.  Besides, I KNOW you, and I don't believe for one minute that you have it in you to commit violence against anyone."

 

"Catlin's right, Sue Ellen,"  Ann says.   "There's no way you could've done this.  Right, Bobby?"

 

Bobby remains silent for several seconds as he looks across the room at Sue Ellen, his mind flashing back to the night of Brittany's murder, and the blood on Sue Ellen's hands.  "Yes, of course," he finally says, unsure himself of whether or not, in her drugged state, Sue Ellen could have been capable of murder that night.  As Ann embraces Sue Ellen, Ann's back to him, Bobby continues looking at Sue Ellen, her hands on his wife's back as the two women hug, and again, Bobby remembers the blood.  Then Sue Ellen looks up and her eyes and Bobby's eyes meet, both of them wondering what really happened that night.

"I don't think so,"  Dylan says.  "I don't even know the guy."

 

"Well neither did I until I started hanging out with him.  C.J.'s really cool.  And besides, you should get to know him, he's family."

 

"Family?"  Dylan asks.  "I don't even know what that word means anymore."  He gets up from the table.  "Ray, I'm gonna go ahead and get to work," he says.  

"Alright,"  says a concerned Ray as Dylan walks out of the room.

 

Conner lets out a sigh.  "What'd I say wrong THAT time? Seems like I can't say anything to him anymore without him getting mad or depressed, or leaving the room.  All I did was invite him to come hang out at C.J.'s today after work.  Itn't that what you suggested, Donna?  That I try to get him out of the house sometime?"

 

"Yeah.  Just give him some time."

 

"He'll be alright,"  Ray says as his cell phone rings.  Taking the phone from his pocket, he looks at the screen, then answers.  "Hello," he says.  "Yes, this is Ray Krebbs.  Oh, Mr. Arnold, yes.  You have?  I know, it's been a while.  Okay, where?"  Ray listens to the man on the other end of the line for a moment, then smiles.  "Okay, thanks a lot.  Yeah, I'd appreciate that, and thanks for callin'.  Bye."  Ending the call, Ray puts his phone down on the table.

 

"Well, that must've been good news,"  Donna says.

 

"I sure hope so,"  Ray says.  "That was Craig Arnold, the private detective I hired to find Heath Allen.  After all these months, he's finally tracked Heath down."

 

"Really?"  Donna asks, a concerned tone in her voice. "Where is he?"

 

"Tulsa, workin' on a oil rig, of all things.  So I've gotta fly to Tulsa, Donna.  Today.  Conner, can you and Dylan manage things here on the ranch for a couple days?"

 

"Yeah, sure, Ray,"  Conner replies.

 

"Thanks,"  Ray says, taking a sip of his coffee.  

 

Donna looks over at her husband, a sad look on her face, worried that this search Ray is conducting for a man he hopes will turn out to be his son, is only going to end up hurting him.

Meanwhile at Southfork, John Ross and Krystina are getting dressed in silence in their bedroom. John Ross walks over to the dresser and opens the second drawer, pulling out a shirt.  He turns and looks at Krystina as she ties her hair back, then walks over to the bedside table and looks at the photograph of her and John Ross.

 

 

 

 

"Yeah, I'm fine," she says, looking up at him.

 

 

 

 

"You sure 'bout that?"  John Ross asks.  "Cause you sure don't seem fine to me.  You been real moody and quiet last few days.  Still thinkin' about what happened at the Oil Baron's Ball the other night?"

"Brittany?"  John  Ross asks.  "You think Brittany drugged her?"

 

"It makes perfect sense, John Ross.  A waiter bumped into your mother that night, spilling wine all over her dress.  While everyone was distracted with that, Brittany could've easily slipped something into Sue Ellen's drink. She and Brad Stone were hangin' around, after all."

 

An angry expression comes over John Ross's face. "Damn," he says.  "Brad Stone.  You think that son of a bitched helped Brittany?"

 

"I wouldn't doubt it one bit.  I'm also thinkin' that waiter had to be in on it, too.  The timing of that spilled wine, at just the moment Stone and Brittany were standing right beside Sue Ellen and Catlin's table?  It's all too convenient.  If the waiter wasn't involved in their sick little plan, then that had to be the most perfect timing in the history of the world."

 

John Ross stands to his feet and rubs his hand across his mouth.  "Thank ya for tellin' me this, Uncle Bobby."

 

"I felt you should know.  Your mother was a victim in all of this.  I'm convinced that Brittany drugged Sue Ellen and she wasn't drinkin' that night.  And I'd really appreciate you tellin' her you believe her."

 

"I'll do just that.  I'm gonna find that waiter, and if Brad Stone was involved in some kind of little plot to help Brittany set Mama up to make it look like she was drinkin'..........he's gonna be sorry for the day he was ever born."

 

"John Ross...."  Bobby says.

 

"Uncle Bobby, don't tell me not to go stirrin' up some feud with Brad Stone."

 

"I wasn't gonna tell you that at all,"  Bobby says.  "I was gonna say that.......if we find out that Brad Stone was involved in or if he knew about Brittany's plan to drug your mother......I'll personally help you destroy him, and his company."

 

John Ross looks at his uncle and nods, then walks out of the office without saying another word.  Outside Bobby's office, John Ross pauses for a moment, then turns and walks away.  As he heads toward the elevator, the doors open and Bum steps off.  John Ross walks past him, as if he doesn't even notice Bum.

 

"John Ross?"  Bum calls to him.

 

John Ross stops at the elevator and turns around.  "Bum, if you're here to see me, it's gonna have to wait," he says, getting into the elevator.  "I got somethin' to do, but I may need your help with somethin' later on."

 

"Sure, anything I can do to help, but, right now I'm here to see Christopher," Bum says as the elevator door closes.  He turns and walks over to Courtney's desk just as Christopher comes out of his office.  He walks over.

 

"Bum, what's up?"  Christopher asks.

 

 

 

 

 

"I'm glad I was able catch you both here," Bum says.  "Courtney, I've got some news about your son.  I think I may have finally found him."

 

 

 

 

Courtney looks at Bum, an expression of surprise on her face, while her mind and heart are feeling a combination of both relief and excitement.

In an office in downtown Dallas, an older man takes a file folder from a cabinet. "Here ya go, John Ross," the man says. "Here's the list of all the waiting staff who were workin' the night of the Oil Baron's Ball."

 

"Hank, I can't tell ya how much I appreciate this."

 

"No problem, but, mind me askin' why you wanted this list?  Was there a problem with any of our staff that night?"

 

"Oh, no no.  Nothin' like that.  Just that, uh, one of these waiters might have some information I'm lookin' for, and I need to find this guy and talk to him, that's all."

 

"This have anything to do with that murder?"  Hank asks.  "I was real sorry to hear about that.  Such a tragedy, and, I sure AM sorry to hear the lady was a fam'ly member of yours, John Ross."

 

John Ross looks at Hank.  "Yes.  Real shame.  Hank, can you tell me where I could find these men on this list?  I just need to talk to the men, not the women."

 

"Yeah, I think I might be able to help you,"  Hank says.

 

John Ross smiles.  "I really appreciate this, bud, and you can expect a hefty little check in the mail for you personally, and one for the Oil Baron's Association."

 

"John Ross, I've known your fam'ly for many years, ever since I started workin' for the Oil Baron's Association.  And you're every bit as generous as your Daddy and your Granddaddy were," says Hank.

 

"Well, Hank, we Ewings always believed in helpin' our friends, and those who help us," John Ross says with a smile.

 

 

 

 

"How'd you find me?"  Heath asks.

 

"Hired a private detective.  He tracked ya down here."

 

"A private detective?  Man, WHAT is your problem?  Why is it so important for you to drag me into your life?"

"Cause I think it's possible you might be my son," says Ray.  "Heath, I went to a lotta trouble to find you.  All I ask is that you take a DNA test so we can put this question to rest once and for all."

 

"I don't care how much trouble you went through to find me.  You think that means I OWE you this damned DNA test?"

 

"No, of course not.  I'm just askin', that's all.  Just take the test.  Let's find out the truth.  And if the test turns out that I'm not your father, then I'll leave you alone.  You'll never see or hear from me again."

 

"And what if it turns out I am your son?" Heath asks.  "What then?"

 

"Well, then that's up to you,"  says Ray.  "If you still want me to leave you alone, I will.  Just come back to Dallas with me."

 

"Dallas?  Man, I got a job here.  I can't just pick up and leave."

 

"I can put you up in a nice place in Dallas til we get the results of the DNA test.  I can even get ya a job there, if ya want.  After the test, you can leave and go anywhere you want."

 

Heath looks at the man for a few seconds.   "Alright," he says.  "Seems like this is real important to you, and it also seems that, if I don't do this, you aint ever gonna leave me alone.  So alright, Mr. Krebbs.  I'll come back to Dallas and take that damned DNA test, just to get YOU off my back."

 

Ray smiles.  "Well, let's go then."

 

"HEY, ELLIOTT!"  Heath yells to the man Ray had spoken to when he arrived.  "I QUIT."  Heath looks at Ray.  "Okay, let's go get this over with."

 

Ray nods and smiles.  "Come on," he says.

 

 

 

John Ross walks into Gold's Gym in Dallas that afternoon and approaches the front desk where a pretty young woman is working.  He asks her a question, she tells him something, and then he walks toward the back of the gym, where he approaches a young man of about 20.  John Ross says something to him, then points toward another young man, the same young man who had served as a waiter the night of the Oil Baron's Ball and had spilled wine on Sue Ellen that night.

 

"Hey, David!"  The first young man calls to him. "Somebody here to see you."

 

"Thank ya, bud,"  John Ross says.  He walks toward the young man.  "David Thorpe?"

 

"Yeah, I'm David Thorpe," the young man replies.  "Can I help you?"

 

"I think maybe ya can.  My name is John Ross Ewing, and you worked as a waiter att the Oil Baron's Ball last Saturday night."

 

"Yeah, that's right.  My second year in a row doin' that.  This job here as a personal trainer pays well, but, bein' in college, I often take side jobs to make extra money. Why do you ask, Mr. Ewing?"

 

"At some point durin' that evenin', you spilled a glass of wine all over my mother's dress."

 

"Oh, God, Mr. Ewing, I am SO sorry about that.  I was just so clumsy.  Look, if your Mom wants me to, I'll be glad to try to pay for the damage to her dress."

 

"No, I'm here about the dress. No need to worry about that."

 

"Then what is it?"  David asks.

 

"Thorpe, I need to know if you spillin' that drink was really an accident," John Ross says.

 

"What do you mean?"  David asks nervously.  "Of course it was."

 

"Well, see, I don't think it was, David.  And I need for you to tell me the truth right now. If ya do, then you don't have to worry about gettin' in any trouble.  I promise.  No trouble, and......"  John Ross reaches into his pocket and pulls out five one hundred dollar bills.  "You get to walk away a few hundred bucks richer.  I'm sure as a strugglin' young college boy, this would help.  You lie to me, and not only will you lose this job here, but I'll make sure you never find work anywhere in Dallas again, or anywhere NEAR Dallas.  But before you answer, make sure you're tellin' me the truth, David.  Because if I find out you lied to me and just told me it wuttin' an accident just to get this money.......I'll find ya, and everything I just told you will still happen to you.  Now.......you spillin' that drink on my Mama's dress........was that an accident, or not?"

 

By now, the fightened young man is near tears.  "No, sir, it wasn't."

 

John Ross nods.  "And who put you up to that?"

 

"This guy.  A rich guy like you.  About your age."

 

"Was his name Brad Stone?"  John Ross asks.

 

"Yeah, it was."

 

"He pay you?"

 

"Yes, sir.  He paid me three hundred dollars.  He said he would give me a signal, when he wanted me to come over to Mrs. Ewing's table.  I was suppose to pretend to trip and spill the drink on her dress.  Look, I'm really sorry, Mr. Ewing.  I never should've done it, I'm 19, and in college, and....."

 

"No, no, no, it's alright, David.  If I was a strugglin' college kid in need of money, I'd prob'ly take whatever job somebody offered me, too.  I really appreciate you comin' clean."  John Ross hands David the five hundred dollars.  He then takes out two more one hundred dollar bills and hands them to the young man.  "Good luck with school, and, from now on, be careful who you accept one of these little side jobs from.  Take care, now."  John Ross turns and walks away from the bewildered young man.

"I don't even know what you're talking about,"  Brad says.

 

"You know damned well what I'm talkin' about,"  says an angry John Ross.  "And you also know me well enough to know that I'm gonna make your ass pay for that."

 

"Like you made Brittany pay for every imagined wrong she did to you?  Or maybe it was your drunken mother who killed her? Or maybe even your wife?  After all, you did cheat on Krystina with Brittany."

 

John Ross reaches across the desk and grabs Brad by the collar of his shirt.  "Now you listen to me, you pathetic, sniveling son of a bitch.  You crossed the line when you messed with my fam'ly.  And when you cross that line, you can expect all out war, boy, because I'm comin' after you and this piece of crap comp'ny of yours with everything I have.  You can count on that."  John Ross releases Brad from his grasp, then turns and storms out of the office.  

 

After he's gone, Brenda walks in.  "Mr. Stone, are you alright?"  

 

"Fine, Brenda,"  replies a shaken Brad.

 

"I'm so sorry, I tried to stop him."

 

"No, it's fine.  I'm actually glad I got this little visit from John Ross today."  Brad picks up his phone on the desk and dials a number.  He impatiently waits for an answer.  Finally, someone picks up.  "Hey, it's Brad.  I need to see you.  Let's have dinner.  I think it's time you and I teamed up.  What for?  To destroy the Ewings, and particularly John Ross.  He wants an all-out war, then I'll be more than happy to give him the war to end all wars, but I'm gonna need some help to do that.  By the time we're finished, Ewing Oil will be in ruins, and hopefully, one, if not all of its co-owners will be in prison."