EPISODE 375
Written by: Bre L Drew
January 8, 2026
Last Time on Town and Country
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Louise expressed her concerns about Sean’s continued closeness to Tricia, and while he tried to reassure her of her importance in his life, the conversation was cut short when Jolene called to tell him that Wade was holding Tricia hostage at the apartment. Sean immediately left.
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After leaving the police station, Jolene made her way to the apartment, where she was horrified to find her estranged husband armed with a gun, with Tricia trapped alongside him as Wade raised the weapon toward them.
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In response, the Radcliffe Police Department, led by Ernest, placed the Wheeler Building on lockdown, affecting several residents, including Samuel and Jes, who were visiting him at the time. While confined inside, the two shared a kiss despite Jes being in a relationship with Antoine.
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And in Miami, Aaliyah went to Jacques’s hotel room, where he continued to spiral over the revelation that he had unknowingly invested millions of dollars of Covington Group money into an uninhabitable wetland.
WHEELER BUILDING: APT #424
There’s no denying the tense atmosphere throughout the fourth-floor residence of Tricia Lockhart as she sits closely beside her mother, Jolene Wood, on the living room couch. Both women wear a uniform of fear and restraint as Wade Wood continues aiming the nine-millimeter gun at them, having somehow gained access to the apartment without either of them home, courtesy of a hapless maintenance man. Earlier, Wade had contacted Jolene while she was at the police station pressing charges against him for domestic violence. That was when Ernest informed her that Wade was no longer at the motel. Now, all of that feels like a blur, as the situation teeters between life and death.
“Wade, you don’t want to hurt us; I know that deep down,” Jolene vocalizes, though fear trembles in her voice.
Wade wipes perspiration from his forehead and smiles thinly. “Give me one reason not to.”
Tricia turns to her mother, silently conveying What are you thinking? Jolene meets her gaze with an expression that tries to reassure her that everything will be fine.
The older brunette then turns back to her husband and opens her mouth. “I never thanked you, did I?”
Not only is Tricia confused by the response, but it also captures their captor’s attention. Slowly, Wade lowers the weapon—though he keeps it firmly in his grip.
“Back then, I was lucky if a man saw me as anything more than a waitress, he could have a one-night stand with. But you were the first man who saw beyond that. I know things got rough between us at times, but you always took care of me, and I want you to know that now—I’m grateful, Wade.”
“Well,” Wade chuckles ruefully, “you’ve got a hell of a way of showing it, don’t you, Jolene? Everything I’ve done has been for us, and you try to hide from me. How do you think that makes me feel, huh?”
Deep down, Jolene hopes Sean and Ernest are on their way, knowing the police are outside the building—but she also knows revealing that could cost them their lives.
Meanwhile, Tricia searches desperately for a way out and finds none, silently cursing herself.
“How do you think the pain you put her through makes her feel?” Tricia blurts out.
“Whatever I’ve done was because I love your mother, girl,” Wade replies candidly.
“Last time I checked, pain isn’t love,” she fires back.
Jolene turns toward her daughter with concern as Wade tightens his grasp on the weapon once more.
FRANKLIN FARM: MAIN HOUSE
When it comes to using work as a distraction from her life outside the farm, Louise Saunders Lockhart has never had much trouble escaping into it. At the moment, she is updating herd health records and logging milk production data into her laptop at the kitchen table. Nonetheless, even as she enters the numbers, her mind keeps drifting back to the conversation she had with Sean about their relationship. His continued closeness to Tricia nags at her, especially since he was called away earlier for reasons she doesn’t fully understand—though she knows it involves his second ex-wife.
She inputs another line of data when the vibration of her iPhone pulls her attention away. Seeing Sean’s name on the screen, she answers immediately.
“Hey,” Sean greets her. She can hear background noise, which only heightens her concern.
“Sean, what’s going on?” she asks.
Sean is standing outside the Wheeler building, blocked from entering by police who have sealed off the area after Wade took Tricia hostage—news Sean learned from Jolene.
“Uh… long story,” he says. “Jolene called me. Wade has Tricia in the apartment, and it’s not good.”
A wave of panic washes over Louise, though she does her best to contain it. “Where are you?”
As Sean explains his location, Lenny Barker walks into the kitchen, noticing her mother’s tense expression as she listens.
Suddenly, work feels a hundred miles away. “Sean,” Louise says firmly, “what can you do there that the police can’t? Do not put yourself in harm’s way.”
Hearing her father’s name, Lenny pauses, clearly interested.
​
"You know what?” Louise continues. “I can’t stop you, but when you leave, you call me. Do you understand?”
“I do,” Sean replies. “Be careful.”
She ends the call, unhappy with how it concluded. Louise lifts her head and brushes strands of blonde hair out of her face, wishing she had a scrunchie to tie it back.
“What’s up with Dad?” Lenny asks, pulling out a chair and sitting beside her.
“Tricia is being held hostage by her violent stepfather,” Louise says, summarizing as calmly as she can. “The police have the building sectioned off, and your father is standing outside, thinking he can help.”
“Wow,” Lenny says. “Not even Tricia deserves that. But I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?” Louise asks.
“Put up with Dad constantly rushing to Tricia’s side.”
Louise says nothing at first. She simply closes her laptop, meeting her daughter’s eyes. “All right,” she says quietly. “ I think that it’s time we have an adult-to-adult talk.”
WHEELER BUILDING
Among the small gathering of mostly residents unable to enter their homes outside the Wheeler building near downtown Radcliffe, Sean Lockhart stands near the front. He drove here at the behest of his former mother-in-law, Jolene, who informed him that Tricia is upstairs being held captive by her abusive stepfather. He hasn’t heard back from Jolene, who managed to get inside before the building was closed off. Now, he can’t even enter as police continue to barricade the entrance, officers circulating in and out.
“Officer, officer—what’s going on?” Sean calls out.
“Stay back,” a white cop around his age remarks, largely ignoring him.
“Damn,” Sean mutters under his breath, feeling helpless as the winter chill sharpens.
As others nearby try to figure out what’s happening, he spots Ernest McKnight stepping out of an RPD jeep, wearing a bulletproof vest. Sean calls out to him—twice—before finally getting his attention.
“Sean, what are you doing here?” the police chief asks, having known him for years as the father of his daughters' former friend.
“Jolene told me what’s going on,” Sean explains. “Wade has Tricia hostage? How the hell did that happen?”
“That’s what I’d like to know myself,” Ernest replies. “I need to get inside. Jolene was with me pressing charges against the bastard, and the next thing I knew—after she got a call from him—she was gone.”
“Well, she’s up there.”
Ernest’s expression hardens. “You mean Jolene’s up there?”
“Yeah, she is. That’s why I need to go with you.”
“There is no way in hell I’m letting you anywhere near this, Sean. No offense, but this is for the professionals.”
Sean runs a hand through his mostly gray hair and sighs. “Come on. I used to live here. I can show you the back steps—you can get up to the fourth floor that way.”
Ernest folds his arms across his chest. “Thanks, but my officers are capable of handling this.”
“Sir,” a female officer in a similar vest and black coat calls out.
Ernest nods and starts to turn away, but Sean grabs his arm, forcing him to stop. Ernest turns back cautiously.
“I failed Tricia during our marriage, and I failed our little boy…” Sean trails off, thinking of their late son, Dylan, who died in infancy from SIDS. “But I can at least help now—anyway I can. You’ve got to know what that’s like.”
Ernest looks toward the barricaded entrance, then back at Sean.
“Alright,” he finally relents. “But you stay close to me.”
He signals a few officers to let Sean through, and the two men hurry into the building, wasting no time.
WHEELER BUILDING: APT #303
Meanwhile, as residents are instructed to remain inside the building until further notice—including Jes Choudhury, who had been visiting Samuel Gupta—the complex remains under lockdown. The gorgeous attorney sits on the sofa in Samuel’s third-floor apartment, on the phone with Antoine Hall, who is currently making her laugh.
“I bet you’re goin’ crazy with no work to do, huh?” he says while on break from The Waterfall.
“You know me so well,” she replies. “And yes, I’m going a little stir-crazy,” she admits.
What she doesn’t mention is that she and Samuel kissed earlier, after his mother accused her of not being good enough for her son, despite Jes being with Antoine. Still, the kiss lingers in her thoughts.
“Look, I gotta go,” Antoine says. “Those legal briefs can wait, a’ight? Your safety’s more important.”
“I know,” Jes says quietly.
At the same time, Samuel hands her a bottle of Coke Zero, which she accepts.
“Alright then. I’ll call you later—maybe by then I’ll be a free woman. Yes, I’ll let you know when that happens. Bye.”
She ends the call, and Samuel can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy toward the lifelong family friend he’s been drawn to for far too long.
“Thanks,” Jes says, gesturing to the soda.
“I figured you needed something to wet your whistle,” the psychiatrist replies, taking a sip of water.
“Samuel, look—I don’t want to make things more complicated. That’s not my intention.”
By then, he sits beside her, still holding the plastic water bottle.
“I get it,” he says. “Antoine’s a cool guy—fun—but that won’t be enough for you. I think you proved that earlier.”
Though the words hit close to home, Jes takes a sip of her soda before capping it again.
“Samuel… can we?”
“Keep this between us?” he asks. “No problem.”
A brief silence settles between them before Jes shifts the conversation. “So, what do you think is going on that’s keeping us in here?”
“Well, whatever it is, I hope it’s handled with minimal escalation,” Samuel says. Then he smirks. “But us being stuck here together isn’t such a bad thing.”
His comment makes Jes lift her head, offering him a subtle, knowing smile.
INTERCONTINENTAL HOTEL, JACQUES’S ROOM, MIAMI, FLORIDA
It didn’t take long for Jacques Laurent to accept the company from Aaliyah Gupta. His young executive assistant arrived at his Miami hotel room, where he had been stewing over the disastrous business deal—the investment in what turned out to be a swamp. He hadn’t known the truth until he, Aaliyah, and Courtney Covington Sullivan visited the site themselves, a revelation that left all three of them horrified. The situation had only been made worse by the kiss he shared with Courtney afterward, the result of an attraction that had been quietly building—though she ultimately fled his room, calling it a mistake.
Jacques stood near the minibar, staring down at an empty glass that only moments earlier had held whiskey. “Sorry, I’m not really up for entertaining at the moment,” he remarks.
Aaliyah, seated on the edge of the bed, waved a dismissive hand while holding her own glass, still half full. She gives him an empathetic look. “I didn't expect any of that. I mean I just did a drive-by to see how you were doing.”
They had grown close over the past months—close enough that even a supposed celebration of business success had ended with them sharing a kiss.
“Well, I’ve felt a lot of things in my lifetime,” Jacques said, his signature French accent thick with defeat. “But today is the first time I truly feel like a loser.”
Aaliyah took a slow sip of her whiskey, then set the glass on the side table as she joined him by the window, gazing out at the sunlit view. “Hey, what if we get out of here? Maybe go for a swim, or take a walk?”
“No,” he replies quietly, shaking his head as he debates pouring himself another drink.
Despite his mood, Aaliyah remained patient and understanding, sensing just how deeply the failure—and everything surrounding it—had shaken him.
WHEELER BUILDING: APT #424
Tricia manages to whisper to her mother while Wade continues to watch them closely.
“I guess it's no point in asking how are you? huh,” she asks rhetorically
“Help is coming,” Jolene replies in a hushed tone.
​
Tricia notices Wade staring at them. “What?” she asks defensively.
“Trust me, okay? I know I haven’t given you much reason to in the past, but please do now,” Jolene hints.
“What’s going on here?” Wade demands impatiently.
“We’re just talking about the weather,” Tricia says sarcastically.
The older man doesn’t buy it. He forcibly yanks Tricia up from the couch, which immediately petrifies Jolene. Though
Wade had been calm enough to listen moments ago, it doesn’t take long for him to turn intimidating toward the stepdaughter he was never close to—believing she never liked him, that she resented him for taking her mother away when it had been just the two of them after Tricia’s so-called father left when she was two years old.
Outside the apartment door, police secure the fourth floor as Ernest and Sean approach.
“I’m letting you be up here, but do not interfere—do you understand?” Ernest says.
Sean nods without speaking.
Ernest wastes no time knocking on the door, pausing to listen for movement. He hears nothing out of the ordinary, uncertain of what awaits on the other side.
“This is Chief Ernest McKnight with the Radcliffe Police Department,” he calls out. “Is everyone all right in there?”
He and Sean exchange uneasy looks, hoping for the best.
“I promise no one wants to use force if we can avoid it. We just want to make sure everyone is okay. Does anyone need anything?”
Inside the apartment, Jolene remains silent as Wade motions for Tricia to speak, the gun still pressed firmly against her back, should she try anything.
“Yeah—we’re alright!” Tricia calls out.
Sean exhales in relief at the sound of his ex-wife’s voice.
Ernest is somewhat reassured, though he knows the situation is far from resolved.
“How about letting your wife and stepdaughter go?” Ernest reasons, “and this situation will look a lot better for you?”
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“Do you think I’m dumb like those rednecks you go around arresting?” Wade snaps. “I know you don’t give a damn. You’re just sayin’ whatever so you can—what do y’all call it—lull me into a false sense of security so you can arrest me. That ain’t happenin’. I’d shoot them dead before I let that happen.”
Sean stiffens at the threat, while Ernest forces himself to set aside his personal feelings and remain professional.
“We don’t want that at all,” Ernest says evenly. He then speaks into his radio. “I need backup on the fourth floor of the Wheeler Building—10.4.”
As much as Sean wants Tricia to know he’s there, he knows better than to say anything with Wade this volatile.
“We need someone who can talk him down,” Ernest says quietly.
That’s when it hits the farm manager.
“I think I might know who can.”
FRANKLIN FARM: MAIN HOUSE
Louise maintains steady eye contact with her daughter, who sits across from her at the farmhouse kitchen table.
“First of all, I want you to know I appreciate you looking out for me,” Louise says.
From her tone alone, Lenny can sense a but coming.
“But?” the young farmhand interjects.
“Listen,” Louise continues gently, “I know you want the best for your father and me. But whatever is going on between the two of us really isn’t your burden to carry. Your father and I will work it out.”
Lenny exhales clearly dissatisfied. “So, you’re telling me, in so many words, that I need to butt out?”
Louise considers her daughter for a moment, reminded of how headstrong she has always been—and that she’s a married woman now, not a child.
“So, you’re okay with Tricia still having a place in Dad’s life?” Lenny presses.
Louise sighs before answering. “Not really. But it’s complicated—more than I’d like it to be. And you may not want to hear this, but I have to choose to trust your father when it comes to Tricia. Being an adult still doesn’t make you have all the answers.”
Lenny nods slightly. “Yeah. Dad said something like that to me, too.”
Sensing the tension, Louise gently shifts gears. “All we can do right now is hope everything works out for everyone,” she says, her weariness evident.
Lenny knows, deep down, that her mother isn’t at peace with any of this. She chooses not to push further—for now—though the issue lingers heavily in her thoughts.
WHEELER BUILDING: APT #303
Samuel is on his feet near the living room, where he narrows in on Jes scrolling through her phone. When she notices him looking at her, she lifts her head.
“Oh, I was trying to see if there’s anything on any of these news apps about what’s going on in the building,” she explains.
“Nothing?”
“Nope.”
They both sense the awkwardness between them, fully aware of the kiss they shared—and how much they both liked it.
“Jes, you don’t have to feel weird around me. I like what happened between us, but I’m not going to go after you. I know you’re with Antoine. I told you how I feel about him, but I want you to know I do want something more.”
He doesn’t mention that Antoine is the biological father of his friends’ child—something he promised never to reveal. As a psychiatrist and a friend, he knows he would never betray that trust, no matter how much it might benefit him.
Jes is left speechless by the declaration, which is rare for someone who speaks for a living.
The sound of knocking at the door pulls them both back to the moment. Samuel gestures that he’ll get it, and as he opens the door, he’s taken aback by who’s standing there.
“Sean, hi,”
Sean stands in the doorway alongside a Hispanic male cop in his late thirties.
“Samuel, glad you’re home. I need your help… well, Tricia needs it more.”
At the mention of his best friend’s name, Samuel’s attention sharpens. The presence of the cop tells him immediately that this is serious.
“How come I’ve got a feeling I’m not going to like this?” he says.
“Trust me, you won’t. Tricia’s stepfather, Wade, is holding her captive upstairs and isn’t letting her or Jolene leave.”
“Oh God,” Samuel exclaims. “You know I’ll do anything for her, but what exactly can I do in this case?”
By now, Jes is on her feet, standing closer to the door, having overheard everything and realizing this is the reason the building is on lockdown.
Sean stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Someone needs to talk that son of a bitch down. As a shrink, you’re trained for that—getting Tricia and Jolene out safely.”
It doesn’t take long for Samuel to decide.
“Alright,” he nods.
As he turns to tell Jes he’s going, he sees her already grabbing her purse from the side table and her coat from the rack.
“You don’t expect me to stay here—I’m coming.”
Much as Samuel wants to argue, he knows she’s too stubborn, and besides, as an attorney, she could be an advantage.
“C’mon, we don’t have much time to waste,” Sean says as the three of them, along with the cop, head down the hallway.
INTERCONTINENTAL HOTEL, JACQUES’S ROOM, MIAMI, FLORIDA
Jacques decides to fix himself another whiskey, clearing his throat as Aaliyah watches, silently hoping she isn’t intruding; nonetheless, they have already shared so much over the last few months.
He turns to her, the weight of the world upon him. “I’ve never been one to share much of my personal life, but working at Covington means far more to me than people think.”
“Why is that?” Aaliyah asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Jacques scoffs, more out of surprise at her interest than anything else. “People assume that just because my family’s shipping company bears my name, that’s where I should be. Truthfully, I’ve always felt trapped by it—that everything I’ve done was simply to keep it afloat. Working at Covington, making that deal, was the first time I felt like I could succeed without my surname attached. But I suppose that all went to hell… the swamp, in this case,” he says candidly.
“Oh, I understand that more than you know,” Aaliyah says. “Between my mother’s and my brother’s success, it feels like whatever I do—right or wrong—will never measure up. Maybe I’m not the best person to give advice, but you can’t blame yourself for this, Jacques.”
Jacques takes a hearty sip of his drink as Aaliyah absently fiddles with one of her earrings.
“The days of being young and optimistic,” he says wistfully, setting the glass atop the minibar.
Aaliyah inches closer, looking up into his eyes from her petite height. “Being young and optimistic can be overrated.”
The way she says it—open and hushed—draws them into an embrace. They begin kissing, their mouths meeting urgently, neither of them holding back.
Soon, Jacques unzips Aaliyah out of her brown long-sleeve dress, revealing her matching bra and panties. His own button-down shirt, already askew, comes off, exposing his toned chest, which Aaliyah thinks looks even better than she imagined.
He lifts her slight frame into his arms with ease. They lock eyes, both knowing there is no turning back, despite his marriage to Emma.
They fall onto the bed together, their limbs intertwining as they become physical. He thrusts into her, drawing a moan of pleasure from her, and it is evident no one has made her feel this way until now—something Aaliyah does not complain about.
As they continue, it feels as though their troubles are put on pause, left somewhere outside the suite. In this moment, nothing else matters to either of them.
WHEELER BUILDING: APT #424
Sean, Samuel, Jes, and the cop make it back to the Lockhart apartment as Ernest, along with about four other officers standing in various positions, observes them approaching.
The police chief bows his head, having already informed his men of what is going on.
“Any luck?” Sean asks, though knowing the likely outcome.
“Unfortunately, Wood is being too damn stubborn for his own good,” Ernest replies.
“Maybe I can try,” Samuel tells him.
“Are you up to it?” the police chief asks the doctor.
“I’m willing to do anything.”
Sean and Jes throw looks of caution to each other as Samuel gets closer to the door.
“Tricia, Jolene, it’s me, Samuel,” he says calmly through the door.
Inside the apartment, she is still being held at gunpoint by her violent stepfather, though she is somewhat relieved to hear her best friend on the other side.
“I think it’s obvious how I’m doing,” Tricia answers.
“How is Jolene?” the psychiatrist adds.
Wade begins to grow fed up with all the talking.
“I haven’t hurt her,” he yells, which makes Ernest and Sean worry, since they know something is happening behind that closed door. “But she’s so scared she ain’t talking.”
“This isn’t good,” Ernest remarks.
“Sounds like some kind of acute stress response to the ordeal,” Samuel informs them.
“We’ve got to get them out of there now,” Sean says.
“I know that,” Ernest replies, not liking how a civilian is trying to tell him how to do his job.
Samuel lifts his hand, attempting to keep things moving without police involvement, knowing it might make matters worse.
“Wade,” Samuel begins. “I know as men we aren’t supposed to show fear, but I know you’re afraid of losing Jolene. I understand what that’s like.”
He gives a brief look to Jes, who does her best to stay neutral.
“I love her so much, and I don’t want to let her go. That’s why I’m doing this—to show her I’m willing to do anything to make up for all the hurt,” the older man admits, still aiming the gun at his stepdaughter.
Sean and Ernest exchange skeptical glances.
“Then if you don’t want to cause any more hurt, you need to let them go,” Samuel reasons carefully. “Your wife needs medical attention as soon as possible, and I believe that gives everyone a better chance for this to work out.”
Jolene, who has remained quiet, finally snaps back into reality. "You bastard!” she shouts, louder than she intends, causing Wade to glare at her while Tricia searches for a way out.
“What?” Wade asks, confused and taken aback.
“You heard me! For years, I let you rough me up and attack me for nearly everything I did, but I’m finally sick and tired of it!”
The declaration makes Tricia proud yet fearful of what might come next, knowing Wade could snap at any moment.
Something—the last light in his eyes—dims slightly. “You love me… I love you,” he insists.
Jolene shifts on the couch, stretching her legs slightly.
​
“Well, let me tell you something: I don’t love you anymore,” Jolene tells him, though she knows a part of her will always love the man he once was—before he became this.
“You ungrateful bitch!” Wade snarls, his rage ignited. He tightens his grip, then loses control of the weapon as Tricia struggles free.
The gun slips from his hand and lands on the floor several feet away. Jolene quickly retrieves it, rising to her full height.
Wade manages to grab Tricia again, pulling her close as Jolene stands there, clearly unable to handle the weapon.
“Oh, come on now, Jol,” Wade taunts. “You think holding that gun makes you tough?”
Outside the apartment, Ernest wastes no time rallying his team.
“On my count, breach the door—and if necessary, you know what to do with Wood,” he orders.
Samuel turns to him. “I know this is your territory, but as a psychiatrist, I’m not sure this is the best outcome.”
“I respect your professional input, Samuel,” Ernest replies, “but it beats the alternative if we don’t move fast.”
“It’s all going to work out,” Jes says calmly.
“I hope so—for Tricia and Jolene’s sake,” Sean adds, tired of the waiting.
Inside, Jolene looks at her daughter, masking her fear. Memories flood her mind: all the times she failed to protect Tricia, the years her daughter spent sleeping on friends’ couches, defending Wade, and waiting until this season of life to finally leave him.
“You can’t get rid of me,” Wade sneers, tapping his temple. “I’ll always be in here.”
In a decisive moment, Jolene fires multiple shots—Tricia diving out of the way as Wade collapses after the fourth bullet, blood spreading across the floor.
The sound of gunfire shocks everyone outside.
Ernest immediately orders the breach. On the third attempt, officers force the door open and rush inside.
Jolene still holds the gun, shaking. Ernest approaches her carefully, then looks to Tricia standing beside her mother.
“I had to,” Jolene repeats. “I had to.”
Tricia runs into Sean’s arms in the hallway. Samuel joins them as Jes hangs back since she hardly knows the other woman, let alone the entire situation at hand.
Paramedics rush in. Ernest instructs an officer to secure the weapon, knowing he must follow procedure despite his personal attachment to the case.
A female paramedic with a mousy brown ponytail and her partner assesses Wade.
Moments later, the Hispanic officer approaches Ernest.
“Paramedics confirm Wade Wood is dead.”
Ernest exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair.
Outside, the news spreads.
“Thank God it’s over,” Sean says, holding Tricia.
She looks toward her mother, tears starting to form.
“Oh, if it were that simple,” Tricia says softly.
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END OF EPISODE
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ON THE NEXT EPISODE OF TOWN AND COUNTRY
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The storm after the calm arrives for several.
Tanner receives news.
Deirdre voices her opposition.
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