"It could get ugly,"  Elena says.  "Knowing John Ross, it WILL get ugly."

"I've been in my share of ugly fights before, and I've never run from one,"  Richard says.  "I'm sure not about to start now and run from a fight with this Ewing punk."

"Thank you, Richard."

Michael's sister Angie walks into the room.  "Of course, a fight wouldn't be necessary if Angie hadn't told John Ross about the baby in the first place,"  Michael says, looking at his sister as she takes a seat at the table."

"Michael, don't start with me again about that,"  Angie says.

"Well I'm just saying, if you'd stayed out of other peoples' business and minded your own, we wouldn't be going through this right now."

"Oh, now, that's enough of that,"  Richard says calmly.  "Angie did what she thought was right at the time.  It's done and we can't change it.  What we CAN do, however, is take John Ross Ewing's ass into court and get Elena's little boy back.."

Michael looks from his father to Elena and smiles as he takes her hand.  Then he looks across the table at his sister again, his smile replaced by an angry expression.

"Who says I was trying to pick you up?"  The young man asks.

"Aren't you?"

"Maybe.  So is it working?"

The young woman laughs.  

"How about I buy you that cup of coffee and bagel?"  He asks.

"No, thank you.  I have money to pay for it myself."

"Gee, another pick up line shot down.  I'm just batting a thousand today.  And I thought my incredible good looks would be enough to charm any girl."

The young woman looks at his dirty, torn jeans and old shirt.  "Do you ALWAYS try to hit on girls dressed like that?"

"Sure.  I like being comfortable."

"Look, for the record, I'm only in town on some business for a few days, so I won't be staying long,"  the young woman says.

"Isn't that interesting?  Same for me.  Only on town on business for a while."

"Here's your coffee and bagel to go, honey,"  the waitress says, handing the young woman a small brown bag and a styrofoam cup with coffee.  "That'll be $4.89."

"Okay," the young woman says, reaching into her purse.  "Do you have change for a fifty?"

"The boss doesn't like us to take fifties anymore."

"Oh, well, I'll have to use my credit card."

"Here's a five,"  the young man says, handing the waitress a $5 bill.  "Keep the change.  And,here's another five for a tip."

"Well, thank you very much,"  the middle aged waitress says with a smile.  

The young woman looks at him, an annoyed expression on her face.  

"Really, I didn't mind," he says as the waitress returns with his food.

"Thank you," she says.  "Bye."

"Hope to see you around,"  the young man says as she gets up from her seat.

She stops and looks back at him.  "Maybe.  Bye."  She smiles, then turns and walks out.  

"Well, look, if you really need to be somewhere, I'd be happy to give you a lift," the young man says.

"Thanks, but, I'll just call a taxi."

"Look, why bother?  A taxi costs money, and it may be a while before they get here.  I have my truck right over here and I'd be happy to take you anywhere you need to go in the Valley."

"I don't.......look, I really appreciate the offer and everything, but, I don't know you, and........"

"I promise, I'm not a murderer or a perv or anything like that.  I'm just a nice guy offering help to a young lady in distress."

"Okay," she says.  "Fine.  I guess you seem harmless enough.  Thanks."

"Great.  Right over here."

"Just let me grab my things."  

As the young woman takes her suitcase from the backseat of her Jaguar, the young man walks over and gets into a red Toyota truck.  He waits as she comes over, and gets in, placing her suitcase into the backseat, then gets into the front seat beside him.

"Okay, so, where is it we're going?"  The young man asks.

"Falcon Crest," the girl replies.

A strange look and a slight smile comes over the young man's face.  "Falcon Crest?"  He asks.

"Yes.  Do you know where that is?  If not, I can tell you exactly how to get there."

"No need.  I know where it is."  The young man starts his truck and drives off down the street....

Pilar Cumson descends the stairs at Falcon Crest and looks into the dining room.  She then walks into the living room, searching for her husband, Lance.  As she comes out of the living room, Pilar sees Lance through the window, standing alone on the front porch.  She smiles, then walks to the door and goes onto the porch.

"Lance?"  She says.

"Hi, sweetheart,"  Lance Cumson says, turning to his wife with a smile.

"Are you okay?"  Pilar asks.  

"Fine.  Just out here thinking."

"You're worried about Emma's letter?"

"Yeah."

"Lance, really, I don't think there's anything to worry about.  Emma's probably just coming here for a visit.  After all, it's been a very long time since she's been to Falcon Crest or seen the family."

"My point exactly,"  says Lance.  "Emma hasn't been back here since my Grandmother died eight years ago.  Why now?  I never could figure out why Grandmother left such a huge chunk of Falcon Crest to Emma in her will in the first place when it was US.....you and me.....who were here all those years working and slaving and sweating to put Falcon Crest back on top again."

"Lance, would you calm down?  YOU run Falcon Crest.  We've been doing really well the last couple of years."

"Yeah.  I run Falcon Crest.  For EMMA.  Not for myself.  Do you know how that makes me feel, Pilar?"

"Look, why don't you come on in?  It's almost lunch time.  Why don't we have lunch by the pool?  It's a beautiful day for early December."

"Sure,"  Lance says.  He walks over and kisses his wife on the forehead, then as they turn to walk into the house, a sheriff's car approaches the house.  

"The sheriff?"  Pilar says.  "What could he want?"

"I think I know,"  Lance says as the car comes to a stop in front of the porch.  He and Pilar watch as the sheriff gets out of his car.  He then opens the back door of his car and a dark haired young man gets out.  

"Lance.  Pilar,"  he says.

"Sheriff.  What happened this time?"  Lance asks.

"Public intoxication, downtown last night.  He and some friends were about to vandalize some private property as well until one of my deputies drove up and caught 'em.  Your boy slept it off at the jail last night.  I thought I'd bring him home myself."

The young man walks onto the porch.  

"Thank you, Sheriff,"  says Pilar.

"Eric,"  Lance says.  "What have you got to say for yourself?"

"Thanks for the use of a real comfortable cot last night there, Sheriff,"  the young man says sarcastically.  "I slept like a baby all night."

"Get inside,"  says an angry Lance.

"Sure thing, Pops."  The young man smiles, then walks past his parents and into the house.

"I didn't actually arrest him or charge him with anything this time,"  the sheriff says.  "Not with him still waiting to go to court on that other charge.  But Lance, I've gotta tell you, that boy of yours is headed for some real trouble.  Probably a long prison stretch or worse if he doesn't straighten himself out fast. He's been getting into trouble since he was fifteen, and if it were anybody else's son, he'd have already been in prison by now."

"Thank you again, Sheriff.  For everything,"  Pilar says.

"Best keep that boy in line."

"We will, Frank,"  says Lance.

The sheriff walks back to his car, gets in, and drives away.

Furious, Lance and Pilar walk into the house, Lance slamming the door behind them as Eric is heading up the stairs.  

"Alright,"  Lance says.  "How about an explanation?  What the hell happened last night?"

"You mean ol' Frank didn't explain out on the porch?"  Eric asks.

"I'm really not in the mood for your smart mouth right now, Eric,"  Lance says.  "It's time you straightened your ass up."

"Or what, Dad?  You gonna spank me?  Send me to bed without supper?  Take away my car, or my cell phone or my tablet?  I'm twenty-two, Dad.  Not sixteen."

"Eric what the hell is wrong with you?"  Pilar asks her son.  "If you don't clean up your act, you will end up spending time in jail, or worse."

"You sound like you actually care for once,"  the young man says, then turns and heads up the stairs.

Lance starts after his son, but Pilar stops him.  "No, Lance.  Let him go."

"I'm sick and tired of his smart mouth and his attitude."

"So am I.  But you can't talk to him while you're this upset.  It'll only make things worse," Pilar says as they hear the sound of a vehicle driving up outside.  "Now who can that be?"

"I don't know.  But whoever it is, I'm not in the mood for company right now," Lance says angrily.

Meanwhile, outside, the red Toyota pickup carrying the young man and woman from the cafe comes to a stop in front of the house.  "Well, here we are,"  the young man says.

"Yeah.  Thanks again for the ride, and for......everything," says the young woman.

"You're welcome."

Lance and Pilar come out of the house at that moment, as the young woman gets out of the truck. 

"Hello Lance.  Pilar,"  the young woman greets them.

"Angela?"  Lance asks.  

"It's been a long time."

"Yes, it certainly has,"  says Pilar.  "We received a letter from your mother saying she was coming."

"She was,"  Angela says.  "But, she decided to go and visit your mother first and send me here instead, Lance."

"Well, it's great to see you,"  Pilar says, hugging the young woman.

"Great to see you both, too."

"Who's your ride?"  Lance asks.

"Oh, this is.......I'm sorry, I never got your name,"  Angela says, turning to the young man, still seated in the truck.  "And I just realized I never introduced myself.  I'm Angela.  Angela St. James."

Smiling, the young man gets out of the truck.  "Very nice to meet you, Angela St. James."

"And who are you?"  Lance asks.

"My car broke down,"  Angela says.  "And this guy was nice enough to give me a ride."

"You took a ride from a complete stranger?"

"I'm not exactly a stranger, Lance," the young man says.  "I'm not surprised you don't recognize me.  You haven't seen me since I was a little kid."

Lance looks closely at the young man's face.  A hint of recognition comes to Lance's eyes.  "Oh my God," Lance says.  "Joseph? Joseph, is that really YOU?"

"In the flesh,"  the young man says with a smile.  "Angela St. James, allow me to introduce MYSELF.  I'm Joseph Gioberti."

Angela and Pilar look at the young man, confused.

"What's going on?  What are you two talking about?"  Michael asks.

Elena sighs.  "I'm sorry. I was going to tell you."

"Tell me what?  And who's Rhonda Simmons?"

"I've seen a lawyer about getting custody of my son back from John Ross," Elena says.  "Cliff Barnes came to see me a couple of days ago from Dallas.  Rhonda Simmons was the woman the Ewings paid to tell the authorities that she saw Cliff in Mexico the night J.R. Ewing was killed.  She helped them frame Cliff for the murder of J.R.  Cliff thinks if we find her, she could tell us who really killed J.R., and we could use that against the Ewings."

"No judge would let a man who framed someone for the murder of his own father while letting the real killer walk free keep custody of his infant son."

"Your father agreed to hire a private detective to find Rhonda,"  Elena says.  "If we can get her to tell the truth, then I can get custody of my son and keep John Ross from ever seeing him."

Michael looks at his father.  "Thank you, Dad."

"Oh, what's a father for?"

"That's a real good question,"  comes a male voice from behind them.  Richard, Michael, and Elena turn to see a young blonde man standing there smiling.  "Exactly what IS a father for?"

"Kevin,"  Richard says happily, walking over to his younger son.

"What's up, Dad?"  Kevin Channing asks.

"Damn you look good."

"Well, so do you for an old man."

"I don't believe it,"  says Michael.  "My little brother.  Time sure hasn't made you any prettier to look at."

"Yeah, well I could say the same about you.  Ugly as always.  How's it goin', big bro?"  Kevin asks, hugging his brother.

"Kevin, I want you to meet someone,"  Michael says.  "This is Elena Ramos, the woman I love.  Elena, my kid brother, Kevin Channing."

"Hello, Kevin,"  Elena says, shaking hands with the young man.  "It's nice to meet you.  I've heard a lot about you from your brother and your father."

Kevin smiles.  "Hi, Elena.  It's great to meet the girl who's finally won my big brother's heart."

Angela St. James is unpacking in her room at Falcon Crest that night when a knock comes at her door.

"Come in," she says.  

Another young woman walks into the room.  "Hey, Angela," the girl says.  

"Gabrielle, hey, cuz."

"I'm so glad you're here."

"I'm glad, too,"  Angela says, hugging her cousin.

"So how long are you gonna stay?"

"Not sure yet.  My Mom may be coming before Christmas, after her visit to your grandmother.  If she does decide to come, then I'll stay until she gets here."

Gabrielle smiles.  "I sure hope so," she says as Pilar walks in.  

"Angela, you all settled in?"  Pilar asks.

"Yeah, I am.  Thanks, Pilar."

"Gabrielle, sweety, would you mind if I had a word with your cousin?"

"Sure, Mom,"  the girl says.  "Angela, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Night, Gabby."

Gabrielle turns and walks out, closing the door behind her.

Pilar walks over to Angela.  "So, how long are you staying?"

"It's like I told Gabby, I'm not sure.  Is there a problem with me being here, Pilar?  Lance also asked me how long I planned to stay."

"Of course there's not a problem,"  Pilar says.  "After all, Falcon Crest is your home, too, and you're welcome to stay as long as you like."

"You're right, Pilar,"  Angela says.  "Falcon Crest IS my home, too.  My mother does own the majority of it, and, I actually might even stick around permanently.  I think it's time I got involved in the family business."

"Involved......how?"  Pilar asks.

"Maybe helping run the winery,"  Angela replies.

"Lance runs the winery."

"You and Lance have always felt threatened by me, haven't you?"

"Why should I feel threatened by a little girl?"  Pilar asks.

"I'm twenty-five.  HARDLY  a little girl anymore, Pilar.  My mother sent me here to check up on things, if you want the truth.  To make sure that Falcon Crest was up to par, the way it use to be when Grandmother was alive and running it."

"Falcon Crest is very MUCH up to par."

Angela smiles.  "We'll see.  Look, Pilar.  Lance is my cousin.  I do love you guys, and I'm not here to cause any problems.  My mother and I just wanna make sure that our family business is thriving again.....for ALL of us.  The whole family.  Everyone who is an heir to Falcon Crest, which includes me, Lance, your children, Uncle Richard and his children, and Aunt Julia.  So you see, I'm not the enemy.  We're on the same side here, which is the side of seeing that Falcon Crest succeeds."

"That's exactly what Lance and I have been doing since before you were born,"  Pilar says.  "Get some sleep.  I'm sure you're tired after your long trip."  Pilar walks to the door, then turns back to her.  "Angela.....you say we're on the same side?  I agree.  Let's just keep it that way, shall we?  Goodnight."  Pilar walks out of the room and closes the door behind her.

 

"Hi,"  Angela says with a smile.

"Hi yourself,"  Joseph says.  "How'd you know where to find me?"

"Lance told me where you'd be."

Joseph looks at the car.  "You buy that today?"

Angela laughs.  "No.  That belongs to my cousin Gabrielle, Lance and Pilar's daughter.  I borrowed it."

"Well, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"  Joseph asks.

"Since you were so kind to me yesterday, and now that I know who you are and that you're not a serial killer or something, I wanted to repay your kindness.  So, I brought you some lunch.  Hope you like fried chicken."

"I love fried chicken."

"What exactly are you doing here, anyway?"  Angela asks.

"This house belonged to my mother.  She left it to me in her will.  I haven't been back here in years.  Not since I was a little kid.  I'm gonna fix the place up, maybe live here."

"I thought you said you were only in town for a short while."

"I changed my mind,"  Joseph says.  "I wanna get to know my roots, and what better place than where both sides of my family is from?"

Angela smiles.  "I'll get the chicken, if you wanna wash up and take a break."

Joseph nods.

Rhonda Simmons walks into her elegantly furnished apartment in Tuscon, where she puts her apartment keys down on a coffee table in the living room.  She walks into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator door.  Taking out a cold beer, she walks back into the living room and takes a seat on the sofa.  She opens her beer and is about to turn on her TV when her doorbell rings.  Rhonda sighs deeply.  "Now who could that be?"  She asks herself as she gets up and walks to the door.  Opening it, she finds Elena  and Michael.  "Can I help you?"  Rhonda asks.

"Rhonda Simmons?"  Michael asks.

"Yes, I'm Rhonda Simmons.  And who are you?"

"Ms. Simmons, my name is Elena Ramos,"  says Elena.  "I believe you know some old friends of mine.  Bobby Ewing."

"What's this all about?"

"Let us in and we'll tell you."

"I don't know you people, and I don't know any Bobby Ewing."

"Oh, but I know you DO,"  Elena says.  "You were the one who identified Cliff Barnes as J.R. Ewing's killer.  FALSELY."

"Exactly how much did the Ewings pay you for that, Ms. Simmons?"  Michael asks.  "Must have been a hefty sum to afford to live in a place like this."

"Get the hell outta here before I call the cops,"  Rhonda says angrily.

"Yes, Ms. Simmons,"  Michael.  "Why DON'T we call the cops?  My father is Richard Channing.  Now that name may not mean that much to you right now.  But he's every bit as wealthy and powerful as the Ewings. He's the one who found you for Elena.  If he managed to find you here in Tuscon, imagine what he might be able to uncover about your past.  Or maybe he already has uncovered something that you'd much rather no one find out about."

Rhonda hesitates a moment and looks at the young couple.  "What do you want from me?"

"The truth, Ms. Simmons,"  Elena says.  "We wanna know exactly what did happen that night J.R. Ewing was killed in Nuevo Laredo back in 2013."

"Why do you even care?"  Rhonda asks.  "I heard that Cliff Barnes guy got outta prison over a year ago."

"John Ross Ewing has something of mine that I want back."

"And what is that?"  Rhonda asks.  "And what does it have to do with me?"

"My son,"  replies Elena.  "And you're going to help me get him back."

"Maybe I never was that sweet little boy,"  Eric says.  

"I was talking to Gabby this morning.  She said you'd been in quite a bit of trouble lately.  And the sheriff even brought you home yesterday."

"My kid sister has a big mouth."

"What's going on with you?" Angela asks.  "When we were kids, we could always talk."

"We're not kids anymore,"  Eric says.  

"You can still talk to me if you need to."

"Angela?"  Lance calls from behind her.

"Oh, Lance.  Didn't hear you coming."

"Could I please talk to my son alone?"  Lance asks.

"Of course,"  Angela replies.  "Eric, if you ever do need to talk, I'm here for you."

"Thanks."

"No problem."  Angela walks past Lance and heads back toward the house.

Lance walks over to his son.  "We're gonna have to talk about all the trouble you've been getting into.  And about your attitude."

"My......attitude?"

"Yes.  Eric, I don't know what the hell is wrong with you, but if you don't straighten your ass up, the next time you get into trouble, I'm not gonna get you out.  I'm just gonna let you sit in jail."

Eric quickly stands to his feet to face his father.  "I never asked you to get me out of jail in the first place." 

"You can thank your mother for that.  If it were up to me, I'd let you cool your heels for a while."

"Good, why don't you just do that next time,"  Eric says.  "Jail wouldn't be any worse than here."  He starts to walk away from his father.

"What the hell is your problem?"  Lance asks, grabbing his son by the arm.

"You wanna know what my problem is, Dad?"  Eric asks, pulling free of Lance's grasp.  "Then I'll tell you.  It's YOU.  And Mom, and Gabby, and this family, and this whole damned PLACE!  I'm sick of it here."

"Then why stay, huh?  You're 22-years-old.  If you don't like it here, if you're so miserable here with your family, then why not get the hell out?"

Eric looks at his father and smiles.  "Why do I stay, Dad?  Because I know that everything I say and do gets under your skin.  I love the look on your face when you wanna kick me off Falcon Crest, but Mom won't let you.  Because you know that if you toss me out with no place else to go but jail, Mom will leave you.  Like right now, I know you wanna punch me.  So go ahead.  I'm not a kid anymore so they can't get you on child abuse charges."

"Eric, despite everything you do, you're still my son, and I do love you, hard as it is sometimes to do so,"  Lance says, pointing his finger at his son's face.  "But one day, you're gonna push me too far and we're both gonna be sorry."  Needing to get away from his rebellious son, Lance turns and walks away from him.  

Meanwhile, not far away, hiding behind a tree, Angela heard the entire exchange between father and son.  She smiles deviously, wondering how she can use this strife between her cousin and his son to her own advantage.

"I could ask you the same thing, son.  When you said that you wanted to go off somewhere to find yourself, why'd you come here, of all places?"

"Why not here?"  Joseph asks.  "After all, I was born here.  My mother was born here.  You and your family lived here for a long time.  I'd like to learn about and get to know my roots, Dad.  Where I came from."

Cole looks at the large house standing in front of him.  "This old place hasn't changed at all since the last time I was here. Still looks the same.  Place still feels the same, too.  On the way over here, I stopped by my parents' old house.  It's in ruins but the building is still standing."

"Dad, why'd you come here?"  Joseph asks.

"To try and convince you to come home with me to Miami.  To join me in the business."

"Dad, that doesn't interest me and you know it.  I worked with you at Gioberti and Sons for ten years, until Chase was old enough to take over from me.  Now it's my time to find something of my own.  I guess at 33-years-old, I'm finally growing up. Coming into my own."

"And you figure you can find something here?"  Cole asks.

"Yeah, I do."

Cole looks at the house, then looks around the grounds.  "This place is cursed, Joseph."

"What are you talking about?"

"This place.  This Valley took so much away from me, and from my family.  We were doing fine living in New York, but then we came here after my grandfather died when I was nineteen.  Nothing was ever the same after that.  My father spent most of his time fighting my great-aunt, Angela Channing, who did everything in her power to drive us out of this Valley, and so did Lance.  And I lost so much here.  My first wife, Linda.  Then my father, and Melissa.  Then my mother, all within just a few years."

"Dad, I know about all that bad stuff.  But that doesn't mean this Valley is cursed."

"This place does something to you, Joseph.  It changes people."

"It's not gonna change me.  I think I may have found my place, Dad.  And, there's something here that I think I want."

"Mom, it's me," she says.  "I have something interesting to report.  Just as we thought.  All ISN'T well with Lance and his family.  I also just came back from looking at the books.  Falcon Crest is doing better than it was last year, but I think it could still be doing a LOT better.  Well, the problem is Eric.  He's grown up to be quite the hell raiser.  I witnessed a scene between he and Lance earlier, and I honestly thought they were gonna come to blows.  With his family in such disarray, it's no wonder Lance isn't as focused on Falcon Crest as he should be. Maybe it's time you spoke to him, Mom.  Maybe it's time to think about putting Falcon Crest under new management."  Angela smiles deviously as she speaks to her mother and thinks about her plans for the future of Falcon Crest......and her OWN future....