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Virtual Season Eight - Episode 16


The Ties That Bind

By Sue


Act I


Scene One: Monday morning in the Addison/Hayes Bedroom


Filtered light reaches through the room, which is still except for the billowing curtains at the window.  The only disorder in the room (which is minus the usual crumpled pile of clothes littering the floor) comes from the occupants of the bed; Maddie is tangled in the sheets, a foot pokes out, her hair covers her face.  She’s in a relaxed fetal position, her arms tucked in slightly.  Someone sleeps contentedly beside her, their noses close together.   Maddie begins to stir and as her eyes open she is startled to find herself face to face with blonde fur and large brown droopy eyes.  Her head jerks back; she pushes the hair away from her face and smiles down at the dog, now happily wagging her stubby tail at her mistress.  She rubs the dog’s head.


Maddie:  I thought David’s morning breath had improved.


She looks around the room, expecting to see some hint of him or hear him singing in the shower, but there’s nothing.  She looks over at the clock, 7:10.  After four straight nights apart, she had been aware of him coming to bed at some ungodly hour so why isn’t she waking her to his snoring?  She ponders this question as she lies on her back looking at the ceiling.  Today is Monday, her favorite day of the week.  She should be anxious to get up and get moving.  But she’s not.  She’d rather lie here and think about these last few weeks, how good things have been since San Diego.  She smiles a secret smile, stretches languidly…


Maddie:  Don’t jinx it, Maddie.


She begins to get up, reconsiders and lies back down.  There’s the sound of a car engine coming up the driveway.  The infamous corvette...  runs today, tomorrow who knows?  She shakes her head, thinks about his love for that hunk of junk.  There’s a backfire, then a door slam, a tune being whistled…Radar Love?  The front door opens and closes downstairs, footsteps start up the staircase, and she doesn’t make a move.  David enters, sits on the bed and whispers softly.


David:  Hey, Blondie.  No, not you.  The other blonde.  The one with the great—oh, you’re awake.  I brought you a latte.  You want it?


He doesn’t give her time to answer.


David:  I got a mocha for me.  But I thought you’d like the latte better.  Here, watch it.  It’s hot.


Maddie:  Thanks.  I thought I heard you come in last night.  Is the stake out finished?


David:  That was early this morning.  It’s finished but I’m a little wound up and I couldn’t sleep so I picked up the dry cleaning and went to Starbucks.


He jolts off the bed, startling her.


Maddie:  Why didn’t you wake me up when you got home?


David:  No use both of us not getting any sleep.


Maddie:  How considerate.  And how unlike you.


David:  Thanks a lot.  Actually your snoring kept me awake.


Maddie:  I don’t snore—


David:  Maybe I’d better wean myself off this stuff or I may never sleep again.  But since I’ve been living on nothing but caffeine lately, I can’t go cold turkey now.   Where do you suppose that expression comes from?


She stares at him impassively.


David:  Cold turkey…


Maddie:  Why don’t you take a breath and sit down for a minute.


She pats his side of the bed.


David:  No time.  Come on, sleepy head.  You have to get up and get dressed.  We have a busy week planned, Miss Hayes.


She does a quick double-take.  He turns into the dressing area to hang up the dry cleaning.  Maddie stretches and yawns.


Maddie:  Yes, we do have a busy week.  Busier than usual since we have to prepare for that audit.


David (yells off camera):  You promised you wouldn’t mention that again.


Maddie:  I lied.  David, about last night…


He pokes his head out of the dressing area.


David:  Drink your latte before it gets cold.


Maddie:  Enough with the latte!  Now put down the coffee before someone gets hurt.


She grabs his arm as he crosses in front of her and gives him a look that makes him understand she means business.  So he takes a deep breath and sits beside her on the bed.


David:  What do you want to talk about?


Maddie:  Last night.  When you came home, you didn’t wake me up.


David groans.


David:  Look, Maddie.  When the weekend comes, when I’ve had a chance at some shut-eye, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.


Maddie:  I’m not looking for an explanation. I’m…


As she searches for what she wants to say he finds it difficult to maintain eye contact with her.  There’s a look of apprehension on his face.  He sighs.


David:  Maddie…I guess I just wasn’t in the mood.


She smiles at him reassuringly, puts on an act of looking out the window.


David:  What are you looking at?


Maddie:  I’m watching for the flying pigs.  Wouldn’t want one to fall out of the sky and hit your car.


He laughs and lies across the bed, now watching her intently.


Maddie:  I’m trying to tell you that I wasn’t disappointed.


David:  Yeah?  You just looked so…peaceful.  I didn’t want to disturb you.


Maddie:  I’m not saying never wake me up again…just that I liked that you came to bed after four nights out on this case, and instead of feeling obligated to perform what you probably think of as your manly duty…


David:  Duty, eh?  If only the Boy Scouts had included THAT one—


Maddie:  Believe me, David, you’ve more than earned your merit badge.  In fact, you’ve earned the rank of Eagle Scout.  But sometimes it’s nice just to be held.


David:  You mean…oh I get it.  This is a female thing, right?  You mean we had a touchy feely moment—


Maddie:  And apparently you missed it.  I knew I’d jinx it.


David:  Next time you’ve gotta clue me in.  I’m still a guy, Maddie.  You haven’t wrung all the testosterone out of me yet.


Maddie:  Thank God.


David:  And you do snore.  So, are you getting up or do I have to come in there and get you?


She grins up at him slyly, he pounces on the bed and we discreetly move on to the next scene.


Scene Two:  Later that Morning, Blue Moon Investigations


Maddie and David are walking into the office, David still talking a mile a minute.  Agnes and Bert are huddled at the reception desk.


David:  So what would you call that merit badge, Miss Hayes?  And what would it look like?  Could I wear it proudly on my lapel?


Maddie: For all I care you could wear it on your—


Bert:  Muffin!  I just want to keep looking, that’s all.


Bert is holding up a supermarket throwaway advertising homes for sale.


Agnes:  Herbert.  We already have an appointment to sign the papers.  We could look at every house in Culver City in our price range and never find another one like this.  That one bedroom will be a perfect nursery.


Bert:  It looks like it needs a new roof.


Agnes:  It has a big backyard.  It will be great for a swing set, maybe a jungle gym—


Bert:  The street is too busy.


Agnes:  It’s close to work—and I didn’t count that many cars going up and down the street.


Bert:  But new houses are coming on the market all the time, Honeybunch.  I just have a feeling the perfect house is out there somewhere if we just keep looking!


Agnes:  Herbert, cut it out.  We’ve BEEN looking.  Now it’s time to spit or get off the pot.


Bert:  Spit?  Doesn’t that expression go—


Agnes holds up her index finger to shush him.  She points to the camera.


Agnes:  Censors, remember?


David (whispers):  Maddie, who the hell are these so-called censors?


Agnes:  Herbert…if you want, I’ll call the plumber, the painters and the electrician.  All you have to do is just show up this afternoon to sign the paperwork.


She points him to his desk, her expression determined and unwavering.


Maddie:  You found a house?


Agnes perks up when she notices them standing behind her desk.


Agnes:  A really great-great house, Miss Hayes.  If I can just get Mr. Moneybags here to open up the purse strings a little.


Bert:  Agnes, this place is a money pit.  That shyster realtor must have seen us coming a mile away!  Miss Hayes, can you believe she only saw the place once before making the offer?


Maddie:  Sometimes once is all it takes, right Agnes?  I’m sure you’ve looked at enough houses to know what your likes and dislikes are.


Agnes shrugs.


Agnes:  I knew right away when I saw this one—sometimes even when you think you don’t know it, you know it, you know?


David:  I know.


Maddie:  You do?


Bert turns to Maddie and David.


Bert:  She walked into the living room and said we’ll take it!  Before even seeing the bathroom! 


Maddie:  Really.


Agnes:  We had to act fast or somebody else would have snapped it up.


Bert:  Yeah, right.  I bet that place was on the market for a year.  But I’m sure some other suckers— I mean buyers were waiting in the wings.


Agnes:  Pleeeease, Herbert.


Agnes and her pleading look instantly knocks all the fight out of her husband.


Bert:  Whatever you say, Puppybreath.


Agnes:  Thanks…Lumpykins.


A snicker is heard in the background.  Agnes gazes at Bert sweetly.  He turns around to sneer at MacGillicuddy.


Agnes:  Title company, 3:00…Honeypants.


Maddie and David look at each other, mouth, Honeypants?  as Agnes grabs Bert by his lapels, gives him a kiss on the cheek and points him to his desk.  Then Agnes turns to Maddie.  She says, in a conspiratorial whisper:


Agnes: Two can play at this game.


Then excitedly:


Agnes:  Would you like to come see the house at lunch time, Miss Hayes?


Maddie:  I’d love to, Agnes.  But I’ve got so much to do today.  I’m meeting Terri for lunch to go over the guest list for the baby shower, we have that new client this afternoon—


Agnes:  She called and I moved her up to 10:00.  I hope that’s ok.


Maddie:  That’s fine.  But I also have to start pulling records for that audit


That word, said with enough volume so everyone in the office can hear it, sends the staff into a frenzy of activity.  MacGillicuddy turns all his attention to the coffee pot, while Jamie grabs the telephone and Kris starts filing like it’s the most important job on the planet.  Jurgenson and O’Neill study the ceiling lights intently since neither can find a task to do on his bare desk.


Maddie:  You know, Agnes, with all this extra work to do, I could really use some help planning this baby shower thing.   Would you do me a big favor and join Terri and me for lunch?  Maybe help me out a little bit?


Agnes:  I’d love to, and then maybe we can all go see the house after that.


Maddie:  Perfect.  We’ll wait for our client in Mr. Addison’s office then.


Agnes:  Ok.  Herbert…Poopyface…


David glances over at Bert, sitting at his desk obediently picking up the phone but looking rather unenthusiastic about it.  David shakes his head and mutters something unintelligible under his breath as he closes the office door.


Maddie:  What?


David:  I think ‘ol Bert is having second thoughts about becoming a real estate mogul.


Maddie:  Buying a first home is a big step.  Agnes certainly seems ready though.  (She shrugs.)  I just hope she’s thought this purchase through.  A house shouldn’t be bought on impulse.


David:  Ah, there’s the Maddie Hayes I know and love.


Maddie:  Well, it shouldn’t.


David:  I’m not disagreeing.


Maddie:  Does that mean you’re agreeing?


David:  It means that I’m agreeing not to disagree.


Maddie:  So…you agree.


David:  Don’t I always?


Maddie (points out the window):  Look!  There goes another flying pig.


He grins at her and she continues.


Maddie:  But on the other hand it sounds like the house needs quite a bit of repair work—


David:  I’m thinking it’s not the repairs that are getting to him.


Maddie:  Well, what else could it be?  I’m sure he’s just worried they’re throwing good money after bad.


David:  Look, I’m sure Bert doesn’t mind giving up his Saturday morning cartoons for the Saturday morning home shows on PBS.


Maddie:  What a shame.  The two of you will have nothing to discuss on Monday morning.


David:  I’m thinking that our Mr. Viola believes that buying a house with Agnes will mean that he’s really married.


Maddie:  Well, they are really married.  So that means—


She is stopped cold by an exaggerated display of fascination in what she is about to say.  He rests his chin in both hands and leers at her.


David:  So being married means…tell me, Ms. Hayes.  What does being married mean?  I can’t wait to hear.


She leans back on the couch silently; crosses her arms.


David:  Ok, I guess I’ll have to finish that thought.  Boy I get tired of doing this.  I wish you’d learn to articulate your ideas more clearly.


Maddie:  Do tell, Mr. Addison.  Once again, the world, as well as myself, can’t wait to hear what marriage means from the man who has spent most of his life talking out of his—


David:  I’ll give you the abbreviated version.  Responsibilities on top of responsibilities on top of more responsiblities.  I.e.:  Getting a mortgage, getting insurance, paying taxes and maintenance.  A little paint, a little wallpaper, the kids can’t be far behind.  More insurance, more bills, braces, college savings plans and last but not least— and this is the real horror—the minivan. 


Maddie:  At least after the kids come along he can go back to the Saturday morning cartoons.


David:  There you go.  The circle of life. 


Maddie:  I know what you’re saying, David.  Getting a mortgage together is a big commitment.  But after all, that’s where many a relationship winds up.


David:  I wouldn’t know.


Maddie:  Neither would I.


They regard each other in silence for a moment.  The intercom buzzes, Agnes announces:


Agnes:  Mr. Addison?  Miss Hayes?


Maddie/David:  Yes Agnes.


Agnes:  Your 10:00 appointment is here.


Maddie looks down at her watch.  It’s only 9:40.


Maddie/David:  Send her in Agnes.


 A young woman tightly clutching a photograph and purse follows Agnes into the office and is shown to a seat in front of David’s desk.  She’s attractive in a down-to-earth sort of way, definitely not from Los Angeles and she’s all wide-eyed innocence as she looks around the office setting, then at Maddie. 


Woman:  Thank you for seeing me early.  I’ve been so impatient for this meeting.  I’m Robin Hammond.


Maddie perches in front of David’s desk and crosses her arms.  She seems unaware that her stature and body language might seem a bit intimidating to the much smaller woman, whose wide eyes settle on David as she sinks into the couch in front of the desk.


Maddie:  How may we help you Miss Hammond?


Robin:  Now that I’m here…I’m sorry…I’m…a little tongue-tied.


David:  Just take a deep breath and spill it.  Don’t worry, I’ll jump out of the way if it looks like I’m going to get hit with anything.


Maddie’s mouth tightens slightly.  Robin hands David the photo of a beautiful, blue eyed blond girl with a wide smile.


Robin:  I’m looking for my younger sister, Lark.  She left town in the middle of the night, no notice, a month’s rent due.


David:  Left on a lark, eh?


Maddie shoots David a look, but Robin smiles, appears a little more at ease.


Robin:  Lark fits her name to a “t”.  She is somewhat impetuous, but she’s not…inconsiderate.  I don’t think she would just up and leave with no reason and without telling anyone.


Maddie:  Did she take all her belongings?


Robin:  As far as I can tell, she only took a suitcase full of clothes.  She left her furniture behind if that’s what you mean.


Maddie:  Then it sounds like she plans on coming back.  Maybe she took an extended vacation or a got a job offer.  I don’t think—


David:  Ok.  Let me guess.  You think she came to Hollywood to be a star.


Robin:  I don’t even know that she came here, Mr. Addison.  All I have is a phone bill with a 213 area code.  So this is where I started.


Maddie’s glare at David for interrupting her goes unnoticed.


Maddie:  This phone number doesn’t give us much to go on, Miss Hammond.  You don’t know if she knows anyone in LA, or why she would have come here?  Or even if she did come here? 


Robin:  To be honest, I don’t know much about my sister.    I can tell you she’s always been the artistic, social type; I was the quiet one.


David:  So you were the George to her Paul.


David’s silly comments seem to be having the desired effect of making this potential client relax and open up.


Robin (shrugs and smiles):  I guess.  She takes more after our mother…although Lark didn’t really even know our mother.  She died when Lark was four.  Our dad raised us alone until he married our stepmother when Lark was ten and I was fifteen.  We’ve certainly always had separate lives.  She was a cheerleader.  I was a bookworm.  She never went to college.  I went to nursing school.   She’s never had a steady job or a career, but she did make some money modeling.  You can see by her picture how beautiful she was—I mean is!


No cute remark this time.


David (gently):  That’s ok.  We can see you’re worried about her.  Go on.


He moves a box of tissues closer to her.


Robin:  Thanks.  That picture was taken when she was sixteen, but she still looks pretty much the same now.  She’s twenty one, and still pretty flighty, I’ll admit.  But the times that she’s taken off in the past at least she let someone know.  She didn’t do that this time.


Maddie:  Have you contacted the police?


Robin:  Our hometown police force consists of a sheriff and one deputy.  They’re more interested in writing speeding tickets since the council tried to eliminate their positions for not generating enough income for the town.  The Los Angeles police wouldn’t even talk to me.


Maddie:  I’m sorry, but a phone number from an old phone bill?  It could have been a wrong number.  It could have been a business, a catalog company.  It could have been practically anything. 


Robin:  I tried the number.  It’s definitely a private residence.  But I couldn’t get the man on the other end of the line to tell me anything.  It was a bit mysterious, actually.  He was angry and kept asking me how I got the number.  Look, I know it’s a slim chance, but it’s the only clue I’ve been able to find.  If I could just get an address to go with this phone number.


David:  How about we make some inquiries?  I’ve got contacts that might be able to find out some information about that phone number.  It shouldn’t take long.  We’ll look into it and let you know what we find out.


Robin:  Thank you, Mr. Addison.  I’d really appreciate that.


Maddie:  Miss Holland?  Please let our receptionist know where you can be reached. We’ll get back to you later on today if we’re able to take your case.


Feeling summarily dismissed, Robin Holland leaves.  Maddie and David are left alone, watching each other warily.


David:  Ok, Maddie.  Explain to me why we shouldn’t take this one.  There’s no wacko, no weirdo.  It’s not a sordid divorce case.  Go ahead and tell me.  She looks like a lost little kid.  Tell me you don’t feel sorry for her.


Maddie:  She’s hardly a kid, David.  And I happen to feel that her sister, who is also of legal age, has every right to live her own life.


David:  You have to admit that it’s pretty weird to just up and leave your hometown and your family without telling anyone. 


Maddie:  She admitted that they aren’t very close.  Maybe her sister didn’t feel the need to justify herself.


David:  It won’t hurt to make a few phone calls.  The number is probably a dead end anyway.  It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours to find out.


Maddie:  Fine.  But if this turns into something more than a few phone calls, you’re on your own.  I’ve got all I can handle with planning Terri’s shower and preparing for the—


David:  Audit!  Jeez, I wish you’d quit throwing that up in my face, Sweetheart.  But let me just say in my defense that the IRS should know better than to waltz into a place on April Fool’s Day.


Maddie:  Especially this place.  But I assume the poor man didn’t know he was walking into Prank Central.


David:  Well, we showed him, didn’t we?


Maddie:  Yes we certainly did.  I still think having Mr. MacGillicuddy rip a piece of fabric when he sat down was a cruel joke to play on a person with a weight problem.


David:  But you’ve got to admit leaving that $20 bill on the floor for him to pick up was a stroke of genius.  Ok, maybe the head noogies took it a bit over the top, though.


Maddie huffs.


Maddie:  Regardless, your feeble attempt to rectify the situation by offering up Jamie’s affections—


David:  Should have offered O’Neill instead.


Maddie:   David!


David:  Ah Maddie, I’m only kidding.  Besides this is no big deal.  We’re honest and trustworthy.


Maddie:  From that stint in the Boy Scouts?


David:  We have nothing to hide.  This audit will be a cake walk.


Maddie:  But thanks to you and your hole in the head gang I have to spend my week making sure all the books are in order and that every T is crossed and I is dotted.


David:  Well dotting T’s and crossing I’s are what you do best, Miss Hayes.  Well…maybe not best.  You do have certain other…special talents.


Maddie rolls her eyes but smiles at him in spite of herself.  She takes hold of his tie and moves down very close to his face, close enough to feel his breath on her cheek.


Maddie:  And on that note, I guess we’d better both get moving or we’ll be working through the weekend.  And all those special talents will go unused.


She looks him up and down seductively. 


David:  And you know what they say, Ms. Hayes.  If you don’t use it, you lose it.


Maddie:  And we wouldn’t want that.


Grinning widely, he kisses her hand, which is still gripping his tie.


David:  We sure wouldn’t.


She drops his tie and sits up.


Maddie:  Well, time to get to work.


David:  You’re a mean, nasty, cruel woman you know that, Ms. Hayes?


Maddie:  You shouldn’t use all your vocabulary in one sentence, Addison.  You have some phone calls to make and I think I should tell Agnes we’ll go look at the house some other time instead.


David:  No, no, don’t do that.  She really wants you to see it, and I can’t wait to know what you think.  Viola says it needs a lot of work, secret code for dump.


Maddie:  Talk about mean!  It can’t be that bad…


Act II


Scene One:  The New DiPesto/Viola Residence


Maddie, Terri and Agnes carefully walk up crumbling concrete steps and into the front door of a 1940’s ranch house.  Actually, Maddie and Agnes walk; in Terri’s advanced stage of pregnancy what she does is more akin to waddling.  As the door opens, Maddie finds herself in a small (by her standards) living room with a large picture window and a soot-covered brick fireplace.  Terri looks around uncertainly as Agnes stands proudly in the middle of the L-shaped room.


Agnes:  I told you it was great, great, didn’t I?  The Christmas tree will go right in front of this picture window.


Agnes has a dreamy, faraway look on her face.  Maddie’s is pragmatic.


Maddie:  It’s nice, Agnes.  The hardwood floors are in pretty good shape.  Needs a good scrubbing and some paint, but those are just cosmetic.


Terri:  Does the fireplace work?


Agnes:  I think so.  I’m not sure.


Maddie and Terri exchange a quick look.


Maddie:  So besides the all-important notion of Christmas tree placement, what about the foundation?


Agnes:  Foundation?


Maddie:  Didn’t the inspector tell you about the foundation?


Agnes:  Inspector?


Maddie:  You didn’t hire a licensed inspector?


Agnes:  Oh that guy.  Herbert took care of that.


Maddie:  You mean Honeypants?


Terri:  Huh?


Maddie and Agnes giggle.


Agnes: He said the foundation is fine.  I’m going to put lots of flowers in the front yard.  Ooh!  And an herb garden in the backyard.  I’ve always wanted an herb garden.


Maddie:  Did you check out the power bills?


Agnes is spinning slowly around, taking in a panoramic view.  She doesn’t answer.


Maddie:  The power bills for the past year, Agnes.  You should really look at them to estimate what your monthly expenses will be.


Agnes (distantly):  That’s a good idea.


She wraps herself up in a bear hug.


Agnes:  I can’t wait for Christmas.


Maddie: I think the front window is a fine place for the Christmas tree, Agnes.  But there could be asbestos, lead paint, radon.  This is an old house and it’s the most important purchase you’ve ever made.  You need to go into this as a well-informed buyer.


Agnes:  I’m informed.  I know there’s nothing in this house that could hurt us.  Don’t you feel it too?


Terri:  I do feel a draft.  Oh—I guess that’s not what you meant.


Agnes:  I’m talking about the chi.


Maddie:  Agnes, you—the what?


Maddie stops herself from lecturing any further, because Agnes is positively beaming.  She suddenly takes on that persona she sometimes does when she talks about something mystical.  All that’s missing are the smells of incense and sitar music playing in the background.


Agnes:  Miss Hayes, I know how other people see things, but this is how I see it.  This is a place I’m going to be living in for a lot of years.  When I walk in it needs to feel like home.  And this place felt like home.  The Feng shui is perfectly in balance.


She looks from Terri’s blank expression to Maddie’s.  She sighs and begins to explain her philosophy like she’s talking to kindergartners.


Agnes:  Feng Shui.  It is the ancient Oriental science of balancing the elements within the environment.  A good environment enhances our well being. A bad environment will cause illness.


Maddie:  I see…


Agnes:   It all depends where the house is located and the direction it faces. If the house is in alignment with the landscape, a good healthy life force is created.  And this house has great alignment.  I love the energy here.


Terri:  That’s very interesting, Agnes.


Maddie sighs, finally surrendering.


Maddie:  I guess.  I think it’s a lovely house and will make you and Bert a wonderful home.


Agnes:  I think so too.  Of course, it needs a little work.


Maddie:  Just a little.


Terri:  You should have a painting party.  You know, everyone come over in grubby clothes, paint, eat pizza, drink beer.


Maddie:  That sounds like a party you could count David in for.  Although your place might look an awful lot like Animal House when he’s finished.  How’s the kitchen?


Agnes:  It’s back here.  Come on.  You really have to use your imagination though.


They walk through the dining area, where an old, dusty chandalier hangs by one wire, along the creaking wood floors to the back of the house.  The kitchen is like a walk back in time.  The appliances look original.  So does the two inch layer of dirt that covers the once-upon-a-time white tile counter tops and red and white linoleum floor.  Half the cupboard doors are gone and the ones that remain are filthy.  Terri looks down just in time to see something with a long skinny tail scurry under the sink.  She lets out a small yelp and jumps back, not an easy feat in her condition.  Horrified, Maddie fights the need to hold her breath and not touch anything.


Maddie:  Let’s go outside and look at the backyard…


Cut to:


David’s office, same time.


David is on the phone, leaning back in his chair, his feet propped up on his desk.


David:  Thanks, Pete…Yeah, that’s pretty weird.  How’s a girl who’s never left Nowhere, Oklahoma get a high powered number like that………(he chuckles; Pete has apparently said something funny.  David picks up the picture on his desk.)  Well, she’s better connected than I am, that’s for damn sure……Yeah.  I’ll definitely let you know how this one pans out……See ya, Pete.


He hangs up the phone, thinks for a minute, then calls Bert into the office.


Bert:  Yes, Mr. Addison?


David:  Hey Bert.  Need a little extra overtime to pay for the new digs?


Bert:  It’s going to take more than just a little overtime to pay for the new wiring alone, sir.  You wouldn’t believe what electricians charge to bring a place up to code these days.  It’s highway robbery, that’s what it is.  Then the plumber looks under the kitchen sink and comes up laughing and making cash register sounds.  I can see my savings dwindling before my eyes, sir.


David:  Ah, the things we do for love, Bert.


Bert (miserably):  Yes, sir.


David:  Well, Bert.  We could sit here all day and talk about your housing woes, but what I really need to know is did your realtor tell you about the three B’s in LA?


Bert:  The three B’s, sir?  No…I don’t believe he mentioned that.  He was too busy depositing his commission check.


David:  The three B’s, Mr. Viola:  Brentwood, Beverly Hills, Bel Air.


Bert:  Those neighborhoods are a little out of our price range, Mr. Addison.  Does this have something to do with the overtime you mentioned?


David:  You catch on fast, Bert.  That’s why I like you.  You and I are about to check out the luxury homes of Brentwood.  One luxury home in particular, actually.


Bert:  Surveillance in Brentwood, sir?  Won’t that be a little conspicuous?


David:  Not if we act like…(he pulls out two pairs of cheap sun glasses, a bottle of sun block, his binoculars and a map of Hollywood—all from the same desk drawer.)…Tourists!


Bert:  Boy, you have a lot of useful stuff in that desk.


David:  I follow the Boy Scout motto, Bert.  Always be prepared.


Bert:  Ok, Mr. Addison.


David:  We just have to change out of these monkey suits and don something more appropriate for gawking.  Bermuda shorts, Hawaiian shirts, black socks and sandals come to mind.


Bert:  Shorts, Mr. Addison?


David:  Well, in your case, Mr. Viola, we may make an exception.  Now get your camera and let’s get ready to gawk.


Bert breathes a sigh of relief.  They exit the office.


Bert:  Brentwood…maybe we’ll get to see some celebrities.  Doesn’t O.J. Simpson have a house there?


Scene Two:  The Hayes/Addison Bedroom, around 10PM Monday night


Maddie is in bed, covered in paperwork and baby shower business, everything separated into neat, tidy piles, of course.  She speaks to David without looking up as he enters the room removing a loudly printed shirt that he drops on the floor.


Maddie:  I would greet you with a kiss, but I need to avert my eyes from that outfit.  Where have you been and what have you been doing?


David:  Hmmm, sounds suspiciously like wife-speak, Miss Hayes.


He halts her coming objection with a long, irresistible, feel-it-from-her-head-to-her-toes kiss.   She responds by wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him tightly to her.  After a few moments of lip-locked twisting and writhing on the bed, all her paperwork is either crumpled underneath them or has been swept to the floor.


Maddie (breathless):  What was the question?


David (brushing her hair aside, planting kisses along the front of her throat):  Where have I been and what have I been doing?


Maddie (after a time):  Oh yeah…


David pulls back for just a second to look down at her.  Her eyes are shut; her pulse is beating rapidly on her neck.  He grins and resumes the job at hand.


David:  Do you care?


Maddie:  About what…


David:  About where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing.


Maddie:  Not really…


David:  So the thrill is gone?


He rolls away from her and lies on his back.  She moves onto his chest.


Maddie:  Not quite.


She leans over him and begins placing a few kisses down his chest.  When she gets to his waist we prepare to fade to black.  But the necessity disintegrates when Maddie’s head pops up at the sound of paper ripping.  She looks down and sees Miss Me at the side of the bed chewing up last year’s expense receipts.


Maddie:  Miss Me, stop that, girl!


She claps her hands and shoos the dog away.  She starts gathering up papers.  David looks heavenward.


David:  That’ll teach me to close the bedroom door.  Come on, Maddie.  Don’t let a little doggie slobber—


Maddie:  David, look at this mess.  Just let me pick all this up.


David:  Let me help.


He gets off the bed, shakes the covers and rains wrinkled papers onto the floor.  Maddie, on her hands and knees and not amused, shoots him a look as she begins placing everything back in neat little piles.


Realizing this moment has vanished forever, he picks up the dog and throws her out of the bedroom. 


David:  Thanks a lot Mutt.   (To Maddie) Want to start a bonfire?


Maddie:  Not with the RSVP’s for Terri’s baby shower.  I need these to let the caterer know how many guests I’m having.


David:  At least somebody somewhere will be having something. 


Maddie, still crawling around hunting for receipts, w-4’s, lists, invitations and God knows what else, offers no response so he flops back on the bed in disgust.  After a long silence, she speaks.


Maddie:  Terri’s certainly made a lot of friends in Wally’s play group.


David (gets up on his elbow to watch her):  Yeah, the floor’s covered with ‘em.  She should get a lot of loot.  Explain to me why she needs a baby shower.  Doesn’t she already have all the junk she’s going to need from when she had Wally?


Maddie:  This baby’s a girl, David.  Different gender, different needs.


David:  Evidently...Guess I’d better skid addle outa here Saturday night.


Maddie stops her hunting and gathering and looks up at him.


Maddie:  I have an idea.  Why don’t you take Walter with you?  With another baby coming along soon, it may be his last chance at freedom for a while.  I’m sure he’d enjoy the break.


David:  Huh?


Maddie:  Sure.  You boys could go out for a few beers, maybe bowling.


David regards her like she’s crazy.


David:  I don’t think Walter is the bowling type. 


Maddie:  I’ve made every effort to make friends with Terri, David.


David:  Terri’s easy to make friends with.


Maddie:  So is Walter.


David:  I like Walter.    We’re…friendly.  But the last time I showed him a night out on the town, it wound up being a drunken bash involving yellow napkins and ugly women jumping out of cakes.  The horror of it will follow him to his dying days.  I doubt he’s up for David’s adventures in La La Land, Part Two.


Maddie:  Well, I just think it would be a nice gesture.  He’s such a good family man—


David:  Hoping it’ll rub off?


Maddie stops in mid-pile and looks up at him again, her irritation showing.


David:  Maybe we’d better change the subject.


He pulls her up and back onto the bed.  She places a pile of something absently on the corner of the nightstand where it teeters for a moment then falls back to the floor.  Ready to retrieve it, she thinks better of it and admits defeat, running a finger along his jaw line.  She yawns and an arbitrary thought suddenly occurs to her.


Maddie:  Did you find out anything about Ms. Hammond’s mysterious phone number?  Is that why you’re so late?


David:  Shoptalk is not allowed in the bedroom, Ms. Hayes.


He begins to play with the strap of her nightgown.


Maddie:  It should only take a second to answer me, David.  So is that it?


David relents a little, but adds another move to the repertoire, slipping her strap down even further and kissing her shoulder.


David (absently):  I found out it belongs to some big Hollywood mucky muck.


Maddie:  Really?  Who?


David:  Really.  William Ross.


Maddie starts squirming under his weight.


Maddie:  William Ross?  The producer?


David:  That’s the guy.  The same guy that makes all those slezoid nighttime soaps you hate and was accused of producing porn a few years back with underage actresses.


She struggles to sit up.


Maddie:  That was one of his employees using his name to lend legitimacy to his own disreputable enterprise.  William Ross is a very powerful, very respected man in this town.  And David…


David:  You’re killing the mood, Maddie.


Maddie:  David!


He drops his hand and looks up at her serious face.  He lets out a deep sigh.


David:  Look, Bert and I spent a good part of the day and most of tonight nosing around his estate.  We saw a big bevy of beauties coming and going from the joint.  Young bevies.  Makes me think that maybe he might know something about Lark Hammond.


Maddie:  That’s a stretch.  It’s more likely Lark Hammond got overly ambitious, got his number somehow and called him out of the blue—once.  Seems like a much more plausible explanation to me.


David:  Maybe.  But why all those women going in and out of there all day?


Maddie:  Possibly they were there for an audition.


Now distracted from his original quest, he gives her a lecherous grin and a raised eyebrow.


David:  At his house?


Maddie:  Why not?  Maybe he does a lot of business from his home.  That’s certainly not unheard of.  And he’s a person who seems to like his privacy.  Almost reclusive.  He hasn’t attended an awards show in years.


David:  No need.  I don’t think his shows get nominated for many awards.  Unless they have nominations these days for the best girl fight scene.


Maddie:  David, listen…


David:  …or maybe outstanding T’s and A’s in a dramatic series.


Maddie:  About William Ross...


David:  What about Willy?


Maddie:  I know him.


David:  Do you?  Well, I guess that doesn’t surprise me.


He looks pointedly at her chest.


David:  The man is a connoisseur of great—


Maddie:  Well, I did know him.  When he was directing commercials.  I worked with him when I first came out here.


David:  You think he remembers you?  What am I saying?  How could he forget working with Maddie Hayes, the most gorgeous woman that ever sat her kiester on a moon to push shampoo?  Was that his idea, by the way?


Maddie:  I’ll ignore the derision in that remark.  Yes, I’m sure he’d remember me.


She hesitates. 


David:  Good.  You can get me in to see the guy.  Let’s talk about it tomorrow.


He pushes her gently back against her pillow.  She pushes back not so gently.


Maddie:   David, this is ridiculous.  You don’t need to see him.  A phone call should suffice.


David is now intrigued.  He can smell Maddie’s discomfort like a dog can smell a bone buried a mile underground.  The dog starts digging.


David:  You don’t want me to see him?  Why?  Would he reveal something juicy about you, Miss Hayes?  Got a blue movie in your past?  A few artistic photos?


Maddie gives him a caustic stare as he runs a finger from the bridge to the tip of her nose.  Her reply comes through gritted teeth and David suddenly feels lucky to come away with that finger still attached.


Maddie:  …of course not.


David:  Well…


Maddie:  I’m going to live to regret this…I dated him.


David (in mock surprise):  Really!  Well, then I appreciate the magnanimous offer of that phone call, Miss Hayes, but I’d prefer a face-to-face meeting with the old geezer so I can look him in the eye.


Maddie:  Geezer?


David:  Come on, Maddie.  I’ve seen the guys you used to date.  A bigger bunch of stiffs can’t be found in a paleontology exhibit.  In fact, I thought they were all extinct by now.


Maddie:  Really…well, I’m just stunned that you know what paleontology is.


David:  Sure.  It’s the study of Maddie Hayes’ old boyfriends.  Old being a relative term, of course. 


She glares at him.


David:  Ok, I’m sorry.  They weren’t all old.  Some were just…wimps.


Maddie:  And when was the last time you saw the inside of a gym?


David:  Sometime in the Pleistocene era.  Me and all the other Neanderthals used to get together to pump granite.  Now…I have discovered better techniques to pump up.


He moves in for a kiss, but she crosses her arms.


David:  Come on, Maddie.  I’m just kidding around.  But this guy just tweaks my antenna.


Maddie:  After eight years of being consistently wrong, you still trust that antenna of yours?


David:  Hey, I’ve been right once or twice.  I was right about you…Please?  I’ll ask really nice.  Please call your old—friend and get us an appointment.


Maddie:  I’d be happy to.


David:  Thanks.


Maddie:  You’re welcome.  Good night.


David:  Good night?


Maddie:  Good night, David.


She turns over, leaving him looking at her bare shoulder.


David:  Now you’re mad at me.


Maddie:  No, I’m not.


David:  You sure you’re not just a little bit mad?


Maddie:  Not even a little bit.


David:  Because, you know, you should never go to bed mad.  It’ll give you nightmares.


Maddie:  My nightmares are of the waking kind.


David:  I’ll ignore the derision in that remark, Gorgeous.


She pulls the covers up over her shoulder.  David gets under the covers and folds his hands over his chest.  He looks over at Maddie’s back.


David:  Ross is a TV producer right?  Maybe…when we see him I’ll pitch him a few of my ideas.


Maddie:  What ideas?


David:  I had one for a TV show about all these people trying to survive on a desert island.


Maddie:  Gilligan’s Island has already been done, David.


David:  No…this was with real people. Not actors.  They’d have endurance tests and have to eat bugs and make fire using sticks and—


Maddie:  I know you’re kidding so I won’t bother telling you what a stupid idea that is.


David:  Ok, don’t like that one.  How about this?  A rich bachelor brings a bevy of beauties to his mansion and they have to compete to become his wife.


Her response comes with a yawn.


Maddie:  Please.  Sounds like one of your idiotic fantasies.


She clicks off the bedside light and they’re left in total darkness.


David (whispers):  Oh! I know.  The guys not really rich.  The women only think he’s rich.  And we set him up in a big mansion with servants and he buys all these girls expensive gifts and they ride around in a limo.  Then at the end, after he’s picked one of ‘em, and she’s thinking she’s hit pay dirt with Prince Big Bucks, we reveal the truth and see what happens…

How many beauties in a bevy anyway?  Maddie?  Maddie?


By her heavy, even breathing, it’s apparent that she’s asleep.  He peeks over her shoulder just to make sure.  A breeze blows the curtains at the window and a bright shaft of moonlight hits her face.  He can’t help but stare for a moment.


David:  And you are gorgeous, Gorgeous.


He kisses her shoulder.  She smiles and mumbles:


Maddie:  And you’re an idiot, Idiot.



Scene One:  Tuesday Afternoon.


Maddie and David are in the Lexus on the way to the meeting with the producer.


David:  Maybe he’ll buy my screenplay.


Maddie (shakes her head and grins):  Didn’t know you had one.


David:  Throw me an advance and I’ll write one in a couple of days, win an Oscar—have you seen the crap that gets onscreen?  (he sweeps his hand crosswise dramatically)  One cop against all odds!  Brother.


Maddie:  Do you want to hear about the house or not?


David:  It’s what I’ve been dying to hear about all day.  Do tell, Ms. Hayes.


Maddie:  Well, I don’t know…surely they can find a nicer place.


David:  On their salaries?  No way.  The place is that bad, huh?


Maddie:  Well, it’s pretty rundown.  But Agnes loves it.


David:  So, they just fix it up.


Maddie:  Yeah, nothing a coat of paint and a wrecking ball can’t fix.  But she says it has great spiritual energy or something.  I don’t know; she seems to have a vision that I just couldn’t see.


David:  Agnes’ vision is the envy of Miss Cleo.  Hey, listen to this.  “William Ross owns an island in the Carribean and a ranch in Idaho and a couple of private planes.  The multi-millionaire, who made his fortune in Hollywood by pioneering the concept of the night time soap opera, also has a palatial estate with two swimming pools, one filled with champagne, according to legend.”


Maddie:  Are you quoting?  Where are you getting that?


David:  Bert found this on the computer.  He’s really into something called surfing the internet.  Or is it hurtling through cyberspace?  Anyway, he says it’s the wave of the future and pretty soon we’ll all be doing it.  Sounds like he’s been snorting the toner again, but what do I know.  So he came across a passage from a book,  William Ross, The Making of a Hollywood Legend, The Unauthorized Biography.  Didn’t find a picture of the guy though.  I guess Willy’s a little camera shy.  Or maybe Father Time can’t be photographed.


Maddie stares at the road ahead.


Maddie:  Here we go. 


She brakes abruptly at a massive iron gate set in a fieldstone wall that looks impregnable and expensive.  Almost immediately a disembodied voice comes from the gatepost.


Voice:  Please face the pylon at the left and announce your name clearly.


David:  I bet he wears an ascot under his custom-made Italian silk sports shirt.


Maddie gives her name and receives a murmured thank you from the gatepost.  The gate swings open and they follow a drive that meanders through a tall stand of trees.  It ends over a stone bridge where a rambling house greets them.  It is contemporary in style with a gently curving roofline and opaque windows meant to look like rice paper.


David:  Let me revise the ascot and Italian sports shirt.  This guy probably knocks around his million dollar abode in a silk kimono.  I just hope he’s wearing his hearing aid today.  My voice is a little hoarse.  Where do you suppose he keeps the champagne filled pool?


At the front door, which is flanked by what look like carved ivory tusks, David searches around for a door bell.  He finally finds it but before his finger touches the button, the door swings open to a young man in pressed khakis and a pink cotton shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.  He looks wary of them both, but admits them into the foyer.


David:  Is your granddad home?


Maddie:  David…


Young Man:  Miss Hayes, Mr. Addison.  Mr. Ross is expecting you.  This way please.


David looks around a large library as the young man walks away.


David:  Guy dresses like a rerun from Miami Vice.


Maddie:  If bad taste was a felony, half the citizens of L.A. would be in prison.


David:  Quite a place.  I guess ol’ Willy’s done pretty well for himself.


Maddie: I guess.  And would you stop calling him that?


David:  And just think.  It all started with a big blonde and a little shampoo.


Maddie:  I knew I should have stayed at the office.


David:  Don’t be silly, Maddie.  Your name is what got us in here.  You wouldn’t want to disappoint your old squeeze, would you?


Maddie is tight-lipped as she looks at the hundreds of books on display in the room.  Some are exhibited prominently under glass and are rare first editions.  She rolls her eyes.


David:  So could he?


Maddie:  I’m afraid to ask.  Could he what?


David:  Squeeze.  A few of those guys could barely walk, talk and gum their mashed potatoes at the same time.


Maddie:  David, I’m going to—let me do the talking, please.


David:  Why?  I can talk.


Maddie:   How well I know.  Ok, fine.  This is your meeting so never mind.  It was just a suggestion.


A booming voice comes into the room.


Voice:  Like the stoplights in Paris?


They both turn to see a robust man with a full head of wavy sun bleached-blond hair, dressed in tennis whites, smiling a huge white toothy grin at Maddie.  He strides over to her, takes both her hands in his and brings one hand up for a kiss.


Maddie:  I’m sorry?


William:  The stoplights in Paris.  Remember we said they must be just a suggestion.


His grin is wider than seems humanly possible as he gives Maddie a not very subtle once-over.


William:  Maddie.  It’s so good to see you after all this time.  You’re still as beautiful as ever.  Have you ever considered coming out of retirement?


Maddie:  No.


William:  Such a loss to the world.  So how are you?


Maddie (stiffly):  I’m very well, William.  It’s good to see you too.


William:  Would you like some coffee or tea?  One of my famous health drinks?


Maddie:  You’re still drinking those horrible concoctions?


He pats his hard stomach.


William:  Hey, never mess with perfection.


Maddie:  Well, I think I’ll pass.  William, this is my partner, David Addison.


David smiles a restrained smile and extends his hand, then unconsciously taps his own hair after the handshake.  Maddie observes his reaction with a slight smirk of her own.


William:  Hello, Mr. Addison.  You are the one who has been calling, aren’t you?


David:  Guilty as charged.


William:  I’m sorry.  I never see anyone without a referral.  But once Madolyn Hayes was mentioned, I knew you weren’t some insane stalker trying to pitch some stupid idea for the next great television genre.


Maddie almost snickers out loud.


David:  Yeah, her name opens a lot of doors.  (He looks at Maddie pointedly.)  Slams a few too.


Maddie:  I imagine you get a lot of unsolicited and unwelcome phone calls, William.


William:  I’ve had my private number changed twice this year alone.  I’m wondering how you got the number, Mr. Addison.


David:  The woman who hired us to find her sister found it on a phone bill.


William:  That’s strange.  What is the woman’s name?


David:  Robin Hammond.  Her missing sister’s name is Lark.


William glances at the picture David hands him and shakes his head.


William:  Neither her name or face are familiar to me.


He turns his attention to Maddie once again.


William:  But this face…I saw you admiring my first edition Yeats, Maddie.  You still love his work?


Maddie:  William, I don’t think this is the time or place to rehash things—


William:  Of course you’re right.  And I guess time does heal almost all wounds.


Maddie:  About Lark Hammond.


He studies the picture again for a few moments; shakes his head. 


William:  I’m sorry.  She’s very pretty, but she doesn’t look familiar to me.  Unusual name, Lark.  I think I would remember it.


David:  Maybe the kid that answered the door—


William:  Donald?  I’ll ask him.  Now, is that all?


David:  You sure you’ve never seen her?  Maybe for an audition?


William:  No, I’m certain.  Never.


David:  But you must see a lot of women.


William:  Yes, I do, Mr. Addison.  But I never forget a face.  If I had met this woman I would certainly tell you.  Now, I’m a very busy man.


David:  But—


William:  Maddie, it’s wonderful to see you again.  I hope we can get together one of these days to catch up.  Rehash things, as you say.


David:  Yeah, she’ll have her hash slingers call yours.


William Ross is already out the door, replaced by the young man who first greeted Maddie and David when they arrived.  The young man holds his tan arm out toward the foyer, obviously for them to leave.


Young Man:  Thank you for coming.


He escorts them out and brusquely slams the front door as soon as they are outside.  They head back to the Lexus; Maddie bangs her car door closed as she climbs behind the wheel.


David:  A lot of door slamming going on around here.  And if phoniness was a felony—


Maddie:  Once a pompous, pretentious jerk, always a pompous, pretentious jerk.


David:  Well, the guy is a Hollywood producer.  He has no choice but to be a pompous, pretentious jerk.


She jerks the car into drive and speeds down the driveway, narrowly missing the front gate as it swings open slowly.


David:  Hey, Maddie, have you heard of road rage?


Maddie:   First he can’t wait to see us, then he dismisses us like that.  And all his teeth are capped.


David:  Why do you suppose he did that?


Maddie:  Cap his teeth?


David:  No, act all happy to renew your acquaintance one minute, then shove you out the door the next?


Maddie:  Because he saw I didn’t want to take a trip down memory lane with him.


David:  Well, after the trip to Paris and Yeats, what’s left?


Maddie:  Nothing.


David:  Good.


Maddie:  Good?  What’s wrong, David?  Wasn’t he what you were expecting?


David:  I’ll admit that he was a little livelier than I thought he was going to be.    Hey…you set me up.


Maddie:  Like Humpty Dumpty.  And you made it so easy.  You open your mouth and your brain just follows along behind.


David:  My mouth usually does follow me where ever I go, Ms. Hayes.


Maddie:  Yes, but you are supposed to think before you speak, David.  Not the other way around.  You never learn.


David:  Oh, I don’t know.  I just learned that Maddie Hayes can pull one over on me.  That was a pretty good one, Maddie.  You just let me think the guy was some tottering—What exactly did he mean when he said that “time heals almost all wounds”?


Maddie:  Do I grill you about all the women in your past?


David:  Right.  Like you have that much spare time.  Besides, my life’s an open book.  Speaking of which, I wonder if there’s a chapter in Ross’s unauthorized biography dedicated to you?


Maddie: I seriously doubt it.  And for once may we take the high road, please?


David (clutching the dashboard):  I’d prefer we just stay on the road, Maddie.  Watch out for that parked car!  I’m just curious, not jealous.  Sounds like you did a number on the guy.  The old Maddie Hayes Love em and leave em, but stomp on every major artery before you walk out the door number.


She shoots him a brief, but very nasty look.


David:  Or…maybe he was trying to distract you by bringing up old times.


Maddie:  Distract me from what?  This meeting was about as dead an end as you can get.


David:  Yeah?  He said he changes his phone number all the time.  But Lark had the current number.


Maddie:  I’m sure he’s changing it again as we speak.  Now, enough with the wild goose chase.  I need to get back to the office.  I still have a lot to do before the auditor comes tomorrow.


David:  Ok, but I think this wild goose chase calls for more study.


Maddie:  Study?  Of whom?  Of what?


David:  Of William Ross.


Maddie:  David, you’ve taken this investigation as far as it can go.  Now leave that man alone, call Robin Hammond and tell her to go back home.


David:  What’s with you?


Maddie:  Nothing is with me.  I just don’t like where you are heading with this.


David:  And who I’m heading at?


Maddie:  I’ve told you he’s a very powerful man in this town.  If you start harassing him when all you have to go on is the flimsiest of evidence—


David:  I’ll be discreet.  I have done this once or twice, Maddie.  Look, I’ll even stay totally in the background if that’s what you want.  I’ll put Bert on it.  Better yet, MacGillicuddy.  He’s been moping around ever since the kids got their own episode a while ago.


Maddie:  Fine, but I want nothing to do with this.  And I don’t think you’re being objective about it.


David:  I don’t think you are.


Maddie:  I don’t like it, David.


David:  Objection noted, Ms. Hayes.


Maddie:  And ignored, no doubt.


She punches the gas and the Lexus takes them off screen.


Scene Two:  The Rest of the Week in Brief.  


Wednesday:  We see Maddie getting up from her desk and greeting a large man carrying a calculator and file folders in his fleshy arms.  She smiles benignly and shows him to a seat in front of her desk.  He begins laying out folders and looking for a power outlet for his heavy calculator…


David sits behind his desk, a scowl on his face, as Bert paces in front of him gesturing wildly and MacGillicuddy points at a hard cover book…


David walks into the dark bedroom.  He removes a stack of papers from his side of the bed and gingerly climbs in bed next to Maddie.  She turns away from him in her sleep.  He frowns at the dog sleeping between them …


Thursday:  Maddie paces behind a large man punching numbers into a calculator.  A long, curly sheet trails from the machine onto the floor.  With two fingers, the man carefully picks up a wrinkled, shredded receipt; Maddie smiles uncomfortably, shows him a small, framed photo of her dog…


David sits in a car with Robin Hammond.  Their unheard conversation is punctuated with laughter…


Maddie climbs into bed, yawns, irritably tugs at the sheets so she has something to cover her, and takes a long look at David’s sleeping face before she turns off her bedside light.  He turns over in his sleep and wraps an arm around her…


Friday:  Maddie shakes a pudgy hand.  She closes the outer office door and furtively glances at David’s closed door.  She gives a worried looking Agnes the thumbs up sign, then quickly moves to David’s door and knocks.  Apparently receiving no answer, she opens the door quickly and looks inside.  The office is neat and clean; David is nowhere in sight.  She spies a hard cover book on David’s desk, reads the title: William Ross, The Making of a Hollywood Legend, The Unauthorized Biography.  She slams the book down indignantly, then stops, turns around and picks it up...


Maddie sits at home on her living room sofa, impatiently clicking her remote control at the television.  Miss Me lies across her lap…


Saturday morning:  Maddie is startled awake by the slam of the front door.  She peers over the sofa in time to see David rush past, heading for the stairs.


Maddie:  David!


David:  What are you doing down here?


Maddie:  I fell asleep waiting for you.  Are you just getting home?


David:  I came by to shave and change.  I’ve been in the same clothes for…well, if you can’t remember the last time you changed your clothes, it’s time to change your clothes.


Maddie:  Still the Hammond case?


David (tersely):  Yes, still the Hammond case and we should have it wrapped up today.  Just tying up a few loose ends. That should make you happy and maybe you’ll give me more than the cold shoulder tonight when you find out the truth behind William Ross, the Hollywood legend.


Maddie:  I haven’t been trying to give you the cold shoulder, David.


David:  Then why the silent treatment?


Maddie:  It’s been a crazy week.  For both of us.  That’s all.  But I am glad you’re almost finished with this god-awful case.  What did you find out?  Did you find Lark Hammond?


David:  You’ll have the typed report in your hands by this evening.


Maddie:  I read William Ross’s biography.  Did you?


David:  I read the good parts.


Maddie:  So you know my name is mentioned in that book.  Don’t you think it’s too much of a coincidence that Robin Hammond came to Blue Moon to find out about this mysterious phone number?  Which turned out to belong to William Ross?


David:  She didn’t know who William Ross was when she came to see us.


Maddie:  I think she did.  I think she sought me out, David.  I’m just not sure why.


David:  Maybe I know why.


Maddie:  So tell me.


David: Not now.  Look, I hate to sound so mysterious about all this.  But I can’t explain everything in five minutes.  We’ll talk tonight when I get home.


Maddie:  You’re coming to Terri’s baby shower?


David:  That’s tonight?


Maddie:  Yes.  Saturday night, remember?


David:  Well, how long can it take to open up a few baby gifts?


Maddie:  About three hours.  From eight to eleven.  Did you call Walter?


David (snaps his fingers in the air):  I’ll get on that right now.


Maddie:  David, are you upset with me about something?


He rubs his hand across his two-day growth of beard.


David:  Sorry. I’ve put in a lot of hours this week. 


Maddie:  I received a call from William Ross’s attorney last night advising Blue Moon to cease and desist.  I tried to reach you.  Did you turn off your phone—


David:  The slime ball.  Don’t worry about it, Maddie. Look, I gotta go; Bert’s out in the car.  I’ll explain everything later.


He blows her a kiss and shoots up the stairs two at a time.  Maddie watches after him for a moment, then gets up and walks outside to Bert’s Tempo, where he sits behind the wheel asleep with his mouth open.  She jostles him awake.


Maddie:  Mr. Viola…


Bert:  The house just imploded, Agnes, I swear!  Oh, Miss Hayes.  Morning.


Bert blinks at her, tries to get his bearings.


Maddie:  Good Morning.  You look about as bad as your boss does.  What have you two been up to?


Bert:  Uh, just running down leads, doing background checks, you know, the usual.


Maddie:  The usual, huh.


Bert reads the concern on her face.


Bert:  Uh…yeah.  Don’t worry, Miss Hayes.  He’s ok.


Maddie:  Really.  He’s way over invested in this case.  And I don’t want it to—


David:  Rev‘er up Bert.  See ya soon, Blondie.


Maddie (bends down to Bert and whispers): Do me a favor and keep an eye on him. 


Bert:  Sure, Miss Hayes.


She points at David.


Maddie:  David.  I hope you wrap this thing up, come home and get some sleep.  I’ll be out all day, so the house will be quiet.


David:  Sure.  See you tonight.


Maddie and Bert share one more look before he drives away, leaving her to watch after them. 


Scene Three:  Saturday Night, Before the Shower:


Maddie places a vase full of spring flowers in the foyer.  She turns around as David is walking down the stairs, showered, shaved, dressed in jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket.  He smiles at her warmly for the first time in days.


David:  All those women will be here any minute.  I better get out of here while the getting’s good.


Maddie:  I’ve never seen you run from a roomful of women before.


David:  I’m only thinking of you, Maddie.  Trying to save you from the green-eyed rage of twenty housewives.


Maddie:  You’re too kind. 


David:  Thanks for letting me sleep.  I was really running on empty.


Maddie:  I’m glad this week and this case are over, but I wish we’d had the chance to talk—

So you’ll fill me in on the case when you get home?


David:  I’ll fill you in—in full.  Before we open the bedroom door.  What?


Maddie:  I feel strange being in the dark about this case.  Left out.


David:  I think that was your choice, wasn’t it?  And besides, we’ve worked separately before.


Maddie:  This felt different.  I felt like you were hiding things from me.


David:  Well, I wasn’t.  I thought you wanted to be left out of the loop on this one.  Since you had a past with this guy and all.


Maddie:  I understand.


She breaks eye contact, looks down at the floor.  He raises her chin gently.


David:  Whoa, whoa.  You sure?  Maddie, all that’s going on here is that I’ve been busy on this case all week.  What I am now is done with it.  I’m going by Robin’s hotel before I meet the Walter to tell her what I found out. Then I’m gonna go show Walter all the decadence he can stand for one night.  Then I’m gonna come home…


He pulls her to him, and emphasizes each of the next few words with a quick kiss on her mouth.


David:  …and  wake… you… up. No dog, no audit, no arguments, no nothing is going to get in our way tonight, Maddie.  Case closed, domestic harmony insured, end of story.


She enfolds him in a long, deep kiss.  Terri walks into the foyer from the living room.


Terri:  Maddie—Oops.


She immediately turns back around.  They chuckle softly until the phone rings.


Terri (calls from the other room):  I’ll get it!


David:  Are we ok, here?


Maddie:  I guess we’re fine.


Terri’s head pokes out of the living room.


Terri:  Sorry to interrupt, guys.  David, that was Walter.  He’s got some last minute things to do at work.  He said he’ll meet you at the bar.


Maddie:  What bar?


David:  Oh, you know.  Some yuppie fern bar that just opened downtown.  Very quiet.  Great place for a couple of guys to get together for a brandy and stimulating conversation without all that annoying smoke and music blaring.


Terri:  Do you believe this, Maddie?  Do you really think he’s meeting my husband at a fern bar?


Maddie:  When pigs fly, Terri.


Terri:  Just be gentle, Addison.  Let him live.


David:  That’s a tall order.  But I’ll do my best little lady.


Terri:  And no editorial comments about my size, please.


Terri pats her swollen stomach, kisses his cheek and leaves the room.


David:  Boy, she sure is touchy these days.


The front doorbell rings.


David:  The mother hens are here.  That’s my cue to fly the coop.  I’ll see you later, Gorgeous.


They kiss again and part with difficulty.  He opens the door and is accosted by six or seven women talking at once.  Even more pile out of a minivan in the driveway.  He hears one woman talking to another as he opens the door to the corvette.


Woman #1:  Damn, he’s leaving.  I was hoping he was the entertainment…


Woman #2:  Oh, you must be Maddie.  I’m Jane.  I’m sort of the ringleader of this group and I have a question.  Can we have your husband?


Maddie:  He’s not my…


All the women laugh and disappear into the house; David smiles over at Maddie, who is standing in the doorway somewhat speechless.  He turns the key, sighs with relief when the engine starts on the second try, and turns up the radio.


I’m going to wait til the midnight hour

That’s when my love come tumbling down

I’m going to wait til the midnight hour

When there’s no one else around


I’m going to take you girl and hold you

And do all the things I told you

In the midnight hour


He mouths the last couple of lines to her before he puts the car in gear.  He blows her a kiss and drives off.  Maddie grins and goes back inside.  She enters the living room, finds Agnes and looks around at the raucous group that is already swinging into full gear.  She whispers to Agnes.


Maddie:  I was thinking finger sandwiches and tea.


Agnes:  Should have been thinking beer and pizza.


Terri:  Sorry.  They don’t get out much…


Cut to:  Early Sunday Morning


…In the Addison Hayes bedroom.  Same scene that we saw at the beginning of this story, same body in the bed, same black nose nuzzling the same face.  Maddie begins to stir, snippets of overheard conversation from last night slowly bringing her to wakefulness…


Childbirth preparation classes, yeah right!

Sleep deprivation…


Sticky furniture…

Making love with the lights on…like you’d want to?

Grandma underwear…


She wakes with a start; remembers where she is; what day it is.  Sunday…they can sleep in with no guilt.  She smiles, remembering what David said last night…


…Nothing is going to get in our way tonight, Maddie.


Maddie:  Wake me up, huh?  Liar…


Reaching for him, she stretches her arm out; the sudden ringing of the phone makes her sigh and turn back over to her nightstand.   She feels around for the receiver, picks it up.


Maddie:  Hello?


Eyes still closed, she smiles.


Maddie:  Walter.  What are you doing up so early?  I figured after last night, you two boys would sleep in late this morning……What do you mean he never showed? 


She sits up, hits the light on her side of the bed and looks around the room in confusion.  His side of the bed is still made.


Maddie:  David?  David?



To Be Continued…