All language subtitles for Hawaii.Five-0.2010.S09E21.720p.WEB.x264-TBS

Previously on Hawaii Five-O...

We need this place
for a few days for a stakeout.

You cannot do this, Agnes is
coming back this week.

Anybody asks, I'm Agnes's nephew
and we're just house-sitting.

What is the matter with you?

Please, can we just finish
this surveillance and go home?

Who are you?

Oh, I'm Ricky.

Agnes has me check in
on Mr. Pickles

while she's out of town.

You looking for this?

Oh, no.
That's the, uh, catnip, bro.

Where's the cat?

You called the drug dealer
to find Mr. Pickles?

Hey. What are you guys
doing here?

You found Mr. Pickles
and you brought him back,

so, for that, we're
gonna give you a pass.

Whew.

- Thank you.
- Yeah.

♪ I ♪

♪ Have never done
anything right ♪

♪ Before tonight ♪

♪ Before tonight ♪

♪ I ♪

♪ I used to show
some semblance of control. ♪

Hey! What's going on?!

Let me out of here!

Please!

What's that?

[Hawaii Five-O
theme song plays]

♪ Hawaii Five-O 9x21 ♪
He Kama Na Ka Pueo
(Offs

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

Okay, I-I understand.
I'm just saying,

- what-what if she did?
- She didn't.

How do you know that?

How do I know that?
We don't even know her, Danny.

I've never... I don't even
know what she looks like.

So what?

We were in her apartment once
five years ago for a stakeout.

Right? Why... And now
we're in her will?

- Doesn't make any sense.
- Look, she's, uh...

obviously wasn't
a normal person in the head.

Right? You hear
about this stuff all the time.

Crazy cat lady.
Uh-huh.

Uh, uses coupons
her whole life.

Come to find out she's, uh,
worth millions of dollars

when she dies.

She leaves it to two
complete strangers?

Y-Yeah. Well, I mean, w-we're
here for a reason, right?

I mean, she left us
something, you know?

Yeah.

Look, I'm just saying,

I think you're gonna be
sadly disappointed.

Yeah, and I'm just saying
that you should start looking

for a new partner if there's
anything north of $250,000

for us here, because,
in that case, I am gone.

- Hi.
- Hi.

We are here to see Mr. Inouye,

uh, regarding
the Agnes Miller estate.

Okay.

Please, have a seat.

Mr. Inouye
will be with you shortly.

- Thank you.
- No way!

You dudes were invited
to this thing, too?

Bring it in! Hey!

So sad about Agnes. She was
like a second bubbie to me.

What's up, bro?
How are you, man?

- Let's... I got a little cold. - Oh.
- I don't want to give it to you.

Um, I don't...
I don't remember you. Uh...

You kidding?
It's Ricky. Ricky Schiff.

He lived in Agnes's building.

Remember? He came upstairs, and,
uh, he tried to sell us drugs

and exotic animals
and stuff.

Yeah. Yep, yep, yep.

Exotic animals.
That was wack.

What are you doing? You're
staying out of trouble, I hope.

Oh, dude, you know it. It's
actually because of you guys.

Yeah. You guys scared me
straight, know what I mean?

Showed me the errors
of my ways, yeah.

Ricky Schiff is
rehabilitated,

reformed, and a...

another word that
starts with "R."

- I got one.
- Really grateful.

- How's that?
- Okay, good.

Good to see you're, uh...

you're staying
out of trouble.

Thanks, man. Thanks.

Sorry to keep you waiting,
gentlemen,

but this shouldn't take long.

Please, have a seat.

Um, Agnes Miller
had no family,

and you three are the only ones
attending this reading.

All right.

"I, Agnes Eugenia Miller

"of 2120 Nanamaoa Street,
apartment 5B..."

Yada yada yada. Yeah.

Uh, here we go.
"...do hereby bequeath

"all of my tangible
personal property

"and all policies
and proceeds

"of insurance covering
such property,

"including all real estate,
stocks and cash holdings,

"currently valued
at $842,671,

to the Humane Society of Oahu."

Okay. Um,

everything went
to the Humane Society.

Then, uh,
what are we doing here?

Well, Mrs. Miller did see fit

to carve out two exceptions
in her will.

Agnes left this for
you and your partner.

- Hey.
- Box of porcelain cats.

- Wonderful.
- Score.

It seems Mrs. Miller
felt that you two

would be the perfect
stewards of her beloved

cat figurine collection,
- Mm-hmm.

uh, given the
sensitivity you showed

when you had one
of the figurines repaired.

Yeah.

What are you doing?

I just wanted to capture
the exact moment

that your, uh, dreams
crumbled around you.

April, you can bring him in now.

I'm sorry, I thought we were
the only people attending this.

Yes, you are.

No way!

Is that who I think it is?

Hi!

Mrs. Miller was very clear
in her instructions

that Mr. Schiff would become
the legal guardian of her prized

Turkish Angora cat,

Mr. Pickles.

Hey there, Mr. P.

I missed you.

However, due to
the unsuitability

of your current
residential status,

I am duty bound
to find a more...

satisfactory home
for Mr. Pickles.

Okay. So, what,
what-what does that mean?

My understanding
is that Mr. Schiff

is currently
on parole

and is living in
a halfway house.

I thought you said
you were rehabilitated.

Okay. My bad.

Should've said "rehabilitating."

Well, who gets the cat?

Well, that, uh...
that went poorly.

You really thought you were
gonna inherit a million dollars?

I mean, you got a
bunch of cat figurines

and custody of an actual cat.

Yeah, I didn't get custody
of a cat.

The cat's not coming home
with me.

Hey, you. You have till
the end of the day

to find that cat a home,
or I'm taking it to the pound.

I don't care what
that lawyer says.

I'm not inheriting a cat because
of your housing situation.

I don't get
why you guys don't want him.

Mr. Pickles is a primo animal.

Hey, Ricky, listen to me.

I think Mr. Pickles is great.

I like the cat a lot.

But I have a dog.
His name's Eddie.

He doesn't do well
with small animals,

so I can't
take the cat.

And what about you, Robin?

Remind me
why you can't take him.

Well, because I don't want
to take him,

I'm not gonna take him,
I refuse,

and that's that.
I don't like cats.

- I'm not a cat guy. Mm.
- Harsh, dude.

It is a little harsh,
but the best part about that

is Detective Williams here
basically is a cat.

I mean, it's like
his spirit animal.

Okay.

Why do you say that?

Well, the reason
I say that, Daniel,

is because the cat
is a solitary animal.

Moody, aloof,

temperamental.
They don't socialize well.

And they spend

an inordinate amount of time
grooming themselves.

He's right, man.

I totally get a cat vibe
off of you.

Oh, do you?
Because you don't know me.

I spent two minutes with you
five years ago. Shut up.

That's exactly what a cat
would say.

All right.

- We gonna go halfsies, all right?
- Mm.

I know, I know you said you
didn't want anything, but, uh,

come on, get down on this.
- No, really,

- I'm-I'm good.
- You sure?

I-I already ate. Yeah.

- More for me.
- Besides,

I'm... sort of off shellfish
right now.

Is that right?

How come?

I saw this documentary
about it.

Turns out shrimp
are basically

the vacuum cleaners
of the ocean,

sucking up all that nasty stuff
off the bottom.

- Mm.
- Not to mention,

during cleaning, they're disemboweled
- Mm.

and essentially left to soak

in their own excrement.
- Mm-hmm.

- It's nasty.
- Mm-hmm.

Oh.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Was that little speech

supposed to make me stop
eating my shrimp burrito?

Because I have the
stomach of a billy goat.

- Mm.
- And nothing in this world

can keep me from
these delicious

vacuum cleaners
of the sea.

Mmm. Mmm!

So good.

Hey, Lou, I appreciate you
inviting me to breakfast.

- I really do.
- Man, please.

You're a cheap date. All you
ordered is a large coffee.

Man, we can have breakfast
every day if you want to.

You know you don't have to take
care of me or anything, right?

Adam, I have two kids

and an idiot, sticky-fingered
brother to worry about.

You think I'm trying
to add to that list?

Come on, man.

I'm just checking on you, okay?

I'm just making sure
you're good, all right?

Because, let's
face it, you've...

you've had a pretty
eventful year.

That's all.

Yeah, I suppose I have.

But I'm...

I'm doing okay, though.

Really. I...

I'm-I'm getting through it.

You know?

I do know.

I'll tell you
something else I know.

Let's-let's just, um...

Let's keep it 100,
as the kids say.

You and me, we're a
couple of tough guys.

And the thing
about us tough guys

is that when-when something...

personal happens to us,

we have a tendency to...

push it down and bottle it up

and...

and we take on
the guilt

and shame of it all

and we work it around
in our heads,

until, somehow, the whole
damn thing's our fault.

Yeah.

A few years back,
I went through

a very, very dark period,

and, um...

brother, I was
at the end of my rope.

I couldn't see a way out of it.

I thank God every day
for my wife, man.

My kids, my family and friends.

Because if it
wasn't for them...

Man, look, you got me all...

Look...

I'm just trying to let
you know that you have

the same support system
available to you from me.

From all of us.

But in particular, from me.

I'll admit, you know, I...

there were times when I...

I didn't even know if I
would make it through the day.

Yeah.

You know, the idea that I could
be sitting here with you...

with this job that I have,
you know, feeling the way I do,

genuinely...
optimistic about my future,

that would have
seemed impossible

to me back then.
- Yeah.

- And yet, here I am.
- Here you are.

I'm excited
about what's in store for me.

- As long as it's not one of these, right?
- Hell no.

You got to see this documentary, man.

I'm telling you,
it's gonna change your life.

Yeah.

Oh, it's Noelani.

I guess breakfast
is over.

So, what's this all about?

Workers arrived this morning
to find signs

of forced entry and fresh
human remains in the oven.

Fresh? How fresh?

Based on the temperature
of the oven,

I'd estimate
the cremation occurred

sometime between the hours
of midnight and 2:00 a.m.

And from what I hear,
CSU hasn't been able

to recover anything
that might indicate

who was behind the break-in--
no prints or DNA.

And no cameras, I assume,

because who worries about
a crematorium being robbed?

Say, Doc, you think anybody'd
break into a place like this

with a body to burn just to save
a few bucks on a cremation?

Or nah?

Or nah, Captain.

All signs point

to this being
a murder investigation.

But we can't
declare it as such

until we've I.D.'d our vic.

And since at the moment
all we have to go on

is a pile
of bones and ash...

We're gonna have a hell of
a time finding out who this is.

Or was.

Not to mention who killed him.

Oh, my goodness,

he's such a flirty guy.

You know, there are cats
that have survived falls

of over 30 stories,

onto concrete.
- Hey.

What are you doing?
Don't do that.

Don't give him ideas, okay?

I would not throw the
cat out the window.

Besides, this window
does not open.

Well, Mr. Pickles here
needs a new home,

so who wants him?

No. Sorry.
Uh, me and Eddie are in

a monogamous relationship, so...
it's not gonna work.

Yeah, don't
get me wrong. I mean,

uh, I like cats--
it's just, if it wasn't

for the risk
of cat scratch fever

and the whole
toxoplasma gondii thing...

It's a fatal brain parasite,

contracted
from cat poop.

- You.
- Oh, no. Thank you.

No, thank you, though.
But thank you. Yeah, 'cause...

'cause it's a slippery slope,
you know?

I get one cat,
then I have a hundred cats,

and then I'm a
crazy spinster

cat lady drinking box wine
and watching Lifetime movies

and just wondering,
where, where,

where did I go wrong?

Well, then why don't
you all go back

to work, then, all of you?
- Okay. Okay.

All right, Ricky,
how are we doing

with the adopt-a-cat
profile?

What do you think?

Looks good.

Well, I don't think
it looks good.

I mean, respectfully, I think
that I would change the picture,

because in this picture
the cat looks satanic.

Don't list his age,
because nobody wants an old cat

that's gonna have to go
to the vet back and forth

and eventually die, right?

Duty calls.

All right, look, uh, just list,

uh, the cat's...
strong points.

We need this cat gone by the
end of today, you understand?

All right. Okay.
All right?

- Got it?
- Yep.

Oh, Danny, at some stage,
we should get together

and talk about how you want
to divide up these figurines.

No, they're all yours.
I don't like cats or glass cats.

Whoa, whoa,
what would Agnes say?

I don't care.

I don't know Agnes.
I never met her.

Just heard back
from Noelani.

She was able to recover a
metal fragment from the ashes.

Turns out our victim

had a pacemaker.
- Which exploded under the heat.

But we were able to grab
a serial number from it,

and from there, we got an I.D.

Dale Samson. 46.

From what we can gather,
Mr. Samson

had been marketing himself
as a P.I.

And he was not one?

Not according
to the Hawaii State Board

of Private Detectives
and Guards.

But he was selling
his services...

...on Craigslist.

All right, people,
what's the sitch?

What are you
doing? Go back.

Copy that.

Please.

That was
an unusually handsome cat.

Yeah? He's all yours.
You want him?

Man, I got enough mouths to feed
in my house as it is.

- Allergies.
- Convenient.

As you were saying.

For a time, Mr. Samson
was employed by HPD.

But then he was terminated
for cause.

Evidence tampering

and taking bribes
and things like that.

Well, that explains why he
couldn't get a P.I. license.

And why he's looking
for clients on Craigslist.

Probably because
he was taking the jobs

that no reputable investigator
would even touch.

The dangerous kind--
the kind that might

get a fella killed.
- All right,

we just need to figure out
what he was working on.

I'm gonna send Tani and Junior
over to check out his house.

You guys dig
into his financials,

his telephone records

and whatever you need to,
to find out

who he was working for
and what he was investigating.

You got it.

Danny seems pretty desperate

to get rid of Mr. Pickles.

Yeah. Because he knows,
if he can't find any takers,

he's gonna be the one taking that cat home.
- Mm-hmm.

And I know, a hundred percent,
McGarrett can't.

Yeah, 'cause he's
already got too many

animals in the
house as it is.

Oh.

Um...

so, I ha...
um, I have a favor to ask,

and just please let me know
if it's too much.

Okay? Like, really
no pressure at all.

If you feel like you have to
say no, then by all means,

I will totally...
- Stop.

- Continue.
- Thank you.

Um...

So, a friend of mine's
getting married...

Mm-hmm.

...and while I consider myself

a fully independent

and socially...

capable and confident...

person...

these things
are, like,

so brutal

if you're on your own.
- Mm-hmm.

Um, and so...

I was wondering if...

and again, just stop me right
now and please just say no if...

Sure. I'll be your date.

Really?

- Yeah.
- Okay.

Thank you. 'Cause I
was really worried

I was gonna have
to ask someone,

and then they'd, like,
get the wrong impression.

- Uh-huh.
- 'Cause, like, I just want

to go with a friend

and have a good time, you know?-.

Do you have a suit?
'Cause you

- Suit?
have to wear a suit for these things.

Now I'm gonna need
to find one.

It's open bar.

- Is it?
-Yes.

Okay, well, that's
definitely gonna help.

- Totally.
- Yeah.

You'd think, as a former cop,

Samson would lock his door.

This is Hawaii.

Hmm. Surprise, surprise.

Looks like he
was robbed.

Clear.

Okay, so, what's missing?

Got laptop wires but no laptop.

All right, so they took
the flat-screen.

So, what happens?
Someone comes in here,

takes a couple
of big-ticket items...

That must be our point of entry.

They probably didn't know
that the door was open.

Look at this.

Discoloration on the floor.

What was that, a rug?

Why would they
take it, though?

Must have been
one expensive-ass rug,

except... judging
by the decor in here,

it seems unlikely.

Unless it was used
to move a body.

Look at these drag marks.

This has got to be
Dale Samson's blood.

This has to be our
primary crime scene.

Okay, so Samson is here
when the thief breaks in.

He gets murdered.

He gets rolled up in a rug.

Carried out the front door,

which would explain why
it was left unlocked.

So, there's a robbery,

a murdered homeowner.

The body's removed.

- Why is he burned at a crematorium?
- I don't know.

It's not exactly a page out
of your standard playbook.

Well... it's a shame
about the rug.

I'm sure it
really tied the room together.

So, I ran Samson's insurance,

looking for any big-ticket items
he had listed

on the policy,
and then I called around to see

if any of the stuff had shown up
at our local pawnshops.

Good thinking.
Anyone try to move

a 60-inch flat-screen today?

Yep, and a DSLR camera,
some lenses

and one of those robot vacuums.

All owned by Dale Samson and
all pawned at the same place.

Great work. Did you get
an I.D. on the seller?

Michael Manoa.

Priors include B and E
and aggravated assault.

I'm sending you his address now.

He's right there.

- Go.
- Got him.

Michael Manoa,
you're under arrest.

Excellent form
on that tackle, by the way.

Yeah, thanks.

Highly impressive.

What's that sound?

Help! Help!

Help! Help!

Who the hell is this guy?

You've had a busy 24 hours,
haven't you, Michael?

First, you rob and
kill Dale Samson,

then you kidnap some
poor guy on the street

and accuse him of
sleeping with your wife.

He is sleeping with my...

Wait. Dale Samson is dead?

- And you think I did it?
- Yeah, we do.

And we got footage of you
trying to sell the stuff

that you stole from his
house to a pawnshop.

And we know that he
was working for you

'cause we got checks that
you wrote to him, so...

sort of adds up.

Here's the deal.
For a while now, I've known

my wife's been
stepping out on me

with this dude who goes
to the local coffee shop.

So I hired Samson

to follow her and get proof.

But he kept
stringing me along,

billing me for all these hours,

claiming he couldn't
find anything.

When I asked for my money back,
he stopped returning my calls.

So, in lieu of a refund,
you-you rob him?

What happen? He come home
halfway through or something?

Is that how you
ended up killing him?

Whoa, slow your roll, bro.

I'll admit I broke
into the dude's house

this morning
and took some stuff,

but he wasn't there.

This morning?
What time this morning?

I don't know,
around 10:00, maybe.

I went by when I knew
he would be at work.

I was gonna break in the door,
but he left it unlocked.

Mr. Manoa,
where were you last night

between the hours of
midnight and 2:00 a.m.?

In bed.

In bed?
Anybody corroborate that?

Yeah. My girlfriend.

I was at her place all night.

You're, uh... you're, uh...
This is good.

You, uh... you went
through all the trouble

to find out who's
sleeping with your wife,

uh, and you got a girlfriend?

Hey. Never said I was perfect.

No, you're not...

- you're not perfect.
- Okay.

You know what,
we're gonna run your alibi,

so you're gonna sit tight here
for a while.

I got one more question.

The laptop that you stole
from Samson's place--

we know you didn't pawn it.
Where is it?

I didn't steal no laptop.

You think I would have wasted
20 minutes

getting a flat-screen TV
off the wall

if there was a laptop
right there for the taking?

Gentlemen.

- Breaking news.
- Huh?

Our suspect's alibi checks out.

I spoke with
his girlfriend.

She said that he was
with her all night.

And here's proof.

That's security camera footage
from the girlfriend's building.

Time stamp confirms
that Manoa left out of there

a little after 9:00 a.m.
this morning.

All right, so he's an idiot,

but he's not our killer.
- Right on both counts.

By the time Manoa showed up
to rob the place,

our vic had already
been dead for hours.

And I think he's telling the
truth about that laptop, too.

'Cause HPD tossed his house
and his car-- no sign of it.

All right, so if Manoa
didn't take the laptop,

there's only one person
who could have.

That'd be our killer.

We got alerts out
to the pawnshops,

but the good news is our vic
had an online backup service

for his computer.

Jerry's in the process

of getting that data as we speak.

Just got a call from the lab.

Turns out our victim's pacemaker

was implanted just over
a year ago, which is good,

because modern pacemakers
transmit data to a server.

And based on when that
transmission cut out,

we now have an exact time
of death: 1:57 a.m.

Oh, yeah.

That's way before
our vic's house was robbed.

But 1:57 a.m.?

It kind of sounds like
this guy was alive

when they rolled him up in that
rug and took him out of there.

Wait a minute.
Noelani said our victim

was cremated between midnight

and 2:00 a.m., right?
Which means,

if the T.O.D. was 1:57...

He was probably burned alive.

Okay, it's looking like
our best lead is this laptop.

Presuming the killer
did take it,

he took it for a reason.

I'm gonna head down
and see Jerry.

Uh, hopefully,
he's been able to pull

some of the data
off this guy's cloud.

Hi, Ricky.

What up?

Why is, uh...
why is the cat still here?

I've been screening
candidates, man.

Had a bunch call in,
but none were a good match.

"Good match"? This isn't Tinder,
Ricky; it's a free cat.

Anybody wants it,
they can have it, okay?

Oh. One second.

"Yellow."

Yes, this is he.

Yes, I am, sadly, looking for
a new home for Mr. Pickles.

Uh, if I may, I have a couple
of questions for you.

Do you own a dog?

Okay. And what is your
annual household income?

Give... G-G-G-G-Give me
the phone.

Hello. Hi.

Yeah, uh, it's my cat, uh,
and, uh, you can have it.

Just come to Iolani Palace
in the next half an hour,

and he's all yours.
Okay? Thanks.

5:30, Ricky--
the cat is gone by 5:30,

or I'm gonna take the little guy
to the pound.

Hey, you don't want
to go to the pound.

Do you?

Bad things happen
at the pound.

Okay.

5:30, Rick.

I saw that.

Saw what?

You're a closet cat lover.

Uh, no, I'm not.

Yes, yes, yes, you are.

I saw you.

The way you were...

Come on, dude.
You know what's up.

The way you were tickling him
behind the ears.

Couldn't help but love him
just a little bit, huh?

No, thank you.

I know what your problem is.

Tell me.

It's not that you hate cats.

It's that you love them
too much.

- Ah.
- Can you honestly tell me

this is the first kitty
you've ever wanted to love?

Okay. I'm gonna...

- I'm gonna tell you a secret, okay?
- What's up?

I, um... I did have a cat once.

Hmm, called it.

And, uh, the only think I took
away from the whole experience

is that I never want one
ever again.

Okay?

5:30. Please.

Jerry. Were you able to access
our victim's cloud storage?

Yeah. I still have a ton
of files to pore through,

but there's something
you need to see.

Among the various case files,

I found something
in the deleted e-mail folder.

A message that was sent two
hours after Dale Samson's T.O.D.

Two hours after the T.O.D.
There's only person

who could have accessed the laptop.
- His killer.

Who did he e-mail?

This guy, Daniel Nettles,

and check out
what he wrote.

"I've made a breakthrough
in your case.

"Get on the first plane
to Hawaii and send me

"the flight information.
I'll have somebody

pick you up at the
airport." Wait. Wait.

This is why
he needed the laptop.

He's luring this guy out here.

Yeah, and it seems
to have worked,

because Nettles replied
with his flight information

almost immediately
after receiving that e-mail.

He just touched down
30 minutes ago.

All right, we got
to track down the killer

before Nettles
ends up dead, too.

- Mr. Nettles.
-Yes.

- Let me get that for you.
- Thank you.

My car's right this way.

Mr. Samson's looking
forward to seeing you.

Great.

- Bad news.
- What is it?

I just got off the phone
with airport security.

Now, they're gonna
lock the place down,

but based on the time
that Nettles' plane landed,

they figure he's
probably long gone.

I tried calling him.

His phone's off.

- Means we can't track it?
- Nope.

All right, Junior,
get an APB out on Nettles.

On it.

Hey, I know what
Daniel Nettles

was paying Samson
to investigate.

It is now day nine of the search
for Jennifer Nettles,

the 18-month-old
who disappeared

from her San Antonio, Texas,
home on July 7.

The FBI is now assisting local
law enforcement with the case,

and a $50,000 reward
has been established

for information
leading to the safe return

of the missing girl.

Her parents, Daniel and Karen
Nettles, spoke today

at a press conference
announcing the reward.

If anyone out there
knows anything

about Jennifer's
disappearance,

we're begging you
to please come forward.

We just want to bring
our daughter home.

All right, I mean, this...
this report's over 20 years old.

So, what happened
to the daughter?

- Did they end up finding her?
- No.

And due to the circumstances
of her disappearance,

the father, Daniel Nettles,
became a suspect.

Was never charged, though.

Eventually, the media
circus died down,

- and the case went cold.
- Right.

But Nettles wanted
to keep looking

for his daughter,
so he hired Samson.

Exactly. This guy has spent
the last 24 years

going state by state,
hiring local P.I.'s

to help search
for his missing daughter.

Hawaii was one of
the last states

he had left.
- Okay, so we're thinking

Samson was killed
for getting too close

to solving the mystery

of Jennifer Nettles'
disappearance.

Which means whoever killed him
must have been

involved in the kidnapping
back in the day.

Now they've lured Nettles
here to take him out,

end his search for good.

Are you...

you sure this is where
he wanted to meet?

Mr. Samson owns the place.
He's inside waiting on you.

He's gonna bring you up to
speed on the investigation.

Mr. Samson?
It's Daniel Nettles.

Wh-What is this?
What's really going on here?

Hey!

Duke says there's
no further information

on Nettles' whereabouts.

Every available
unit that HPD has

is out looking for him.

Okay, what else we got?

So, we know Daniel Nettles
hired Samson ten days ago.

We've been retracing
Samson's movements

over that time period
and seeing what steps he took

to look into the girl's
disappearance.

We have a list of phone numbers
and a couple dozen addresses

we pulled from the GPS
in Samson's car.

And from that,
we put together a list of names

of the people he contacted.

And that's where we hit
a dead end, because

none of these people lived
in the San Antonio region

around the time of
Jennifer Nettles' disappearance.

Hold on. What if we've been
looking at this all wrong?

How do you mean?

Look, so far, we've been
assuming that Samson was killed

for getting too close
to the kidnapper.

Right? And maybe
that's what happened.

Maybe that's why
he was killed.

But what if that wasn't
the focus of his search?

He's right.
All of Samson's leads

were centered on Jennifer.

- She's the one he was looking for.
- The girl.

What if he was getting close
to finding the girl,

and somehow he tipped the
kidnapper off in the process?

Okay, hang on.

It's-it's been over 20 years.

You-you still think
that Jennifer Nettles is alive

and on this island...
with the kidnapper?

I got nothing else,
but we can't rule it out.

He's right. You know
what we should do?

We should run these
addresses we got

from Samson's GPS
against DMV records,

and see if we
find any women

that are close to
Jennifer's current age.

Okay.

So, if we look for women
between, say,

19 and 24 years of age...

Wait. Lower left.

Emily Henderson.
I think I've seen her before,

in Samson's computer.

Last year, the FBI released
an age-progressed photo

of what Jennifer Nettles
might look like today,

and Daniel Nettles
sent a copy of that picture

to Dale Samson
when he hired him.

Whoa. That's her.
Th-That's got to be her.

Jerry, dig
into the DMV database.

See if you can find out anybody
else living at this address.

Wade Henderson.

Born in California in '64.

Has kept a local address
for the last 16 years.

Okay, go back further.

Go, go deep.

Well, that's weird.

No IRS records

prior to 1996.

Then Wade Henderson
is a fake identity.

Run facial rec, please.

All right, Wade Henderson
is actually Jesse Stoltz.

Arrested in '92
for aggravated assault.

In Laredo, Texas.

Laredo's a stone's throw
from San Antonio,

where Jennifer
was abducted.

So we were right--
she's living with the kidnapper.

Certainly seems that way.
We got to find them now.

I'm gonna ask...
one more time:

Who else knows
you hired Dale Samson

and you're looking
for your daughter in Hawaii?

And I'm gonna tell you again,

you can burn in hell
for what you did.

How could you take her from me?

Stay back!

Anybody tries to come
in here, he's dead!

Jerry, what do you got?

HPD's pulled up
on Henderson's place.

- It's turned into a standoff.
- Copy that.

- Hey.
-Hey.

So, we have shooters

surrounding the perimeter,
but the windows are drawn.

Ready to breach on your command.

Shouldn't we try to defuse
the situation first?

It doesn't seem like
that's an option.

Henderson has his phone on him,
but he's not answering it.

It looks like we're
going in, then.

- I got an idea.
- Well, make it fast,

'cause we don't have much time.

All right, Tani, she's here.

Emily, I'm Commander
Steve McGarrett

with the Five-O task force.

This is my colleague,
Tani Rey.

I don't understand.
What's happening?

Come with us.
Come on.

No. No, this isn't possible.

He's my father.

Emily, I can't even imagine what

you must be going through,
but right now,

he's in that house holding a
gun to another man's head.

A man that's been searching
for you for the last 24 years.

A man we believe is
your real father.

I don't understand.
What is it you want from me?

We need your help.

Emily?

- Dad.
- Yeah.

Dad, I'm here.

I'm outside the cabin.

What's going on?

Uh, Dad, whatever you did,

or whatever this is,
we can work it out.

I-I'm so sorry.
I am.

You-You just need
to put the gun down

and come outside, okay?

It's gonna be all right.

I can't do that.

Yes, you can, Daddy, please.

Dad.

Dad.

Daddy, please.

Got shots fired!

Come here, come here.
Go.

Move in!
Stay right here.

Go, go, go!

Clear!

Clear.

- Are you Nettles?
- Yeah.

No, no, no, no.
Stay down. Just relax.

We're Five-O. We've got
some help coming, okay?

Just relax.
I'm gonna take these off.

If anyone out there

knows anything about
Jennifer's disappearance,

we're begging you
to please come forward.

Please.

We just want to bring
our daughter home.

You know, we see a lot of
weird stuff on this job,

but kidnapping a girl,

and then raising her
as your own daughter?

Uh, yeah, Lou looked
into Henderson,

and it turns out his wife
and kid died in a car accident.

So, I guess that was
his messed up way

of dealing with that grief.

Okay, well, therapy could have
worked, too, but sure.

- Yeah.
- Um, hey.

You weren't...
you-you weren't offended

when I asked you to be my date
for the wedding, were you?

Oh, you mean because you
made it abundantly clear

that it wasn't a date?

Yeah.

No, no.

I'm actually
looking forward to it.

You know, going as friends.

Okay, good, yeah.
'Cause I am, too.

- Cool.
- Yeah.

And don't worry,
I'm not gonna make you dance.

Why do you assume that
I don't want to dance?

Uh, I don't know.

I just figured
you wouldn't like it

and that you're
terrible at it.

Well, you're half right.

Where you going
with that box?

- The dumpster's downstairs.
- Oh, that's funny.

That's funny. No, I actually
just went to see Jerry.

Did a little research,
and it turns out

these figurines are
actually collectible,

and they're currently
worth something, I don't know,

north of ten grand
or something like that.

Wow. That's great.

- So, we, uh... we sell.
- We?

We. We. 'Cause, I mean,
half that box is mine,

so we whack it up.

No. No, we don't.
You made it very clear to me

that these kitty cats
were mine to keep.

So I'm gonna keep them.

And if they're
worth that now,

imagine what they're gonna
be worth in 15, 20 years,

when I'm ready to retire.

You should, um...
you should be careful.

You should be careful
because accidents happen.

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.

How we doing?

Find a home for
Mr. Pickles yet or what?

Sorry, guy was a no-show.

Look, I know you said you were
gonna take him to the pound,

but you can't do that.
- Sure, I can.

Mr. Pickles is
a special animal.

You know that.
You've felt his warm embrace.

Ricky, remind me, when do
you get out of halfway?

Four months.

Four months. Put the
cat up for four months.

Come on, I'll pay for
food and kitty litter.

No.

- That's a great idea.
- No, it's not.

It's not a great idea.
It's a terrible idea.

It's a low-maintenance
animal, Danny.

Let me explain to you why a cat
is not low-maintenance, okay?

They, um... they claw
on all your furniture.

- Mm.
- They bring murdered animals

into your house;
guts all over the place.

They leave hair
all over your stuff.

They throw up fur balls.

They are a disaster
altogether.

And, on top of
everything else,

Rachel is allergic to cats.

So...

Is she?

Oh, yes. Yes, she is.

I had a cat once,
in college.

I actually had a cat
when I was a kid, too.

But anyway, I had to
get rid of the cat

that I got
when I was in college

because Rachel was allergic.

Hmm, that's beautiful.
Who's Rachel?

- Rachel's his ex-wife.
- Well, why do you care

if your ex is allergic
to cats if...

Oh... you're thinking maybe
she's not gonna stay your ex.

That's not what I'm thinking.
Mind your business.

No.

Okay, well, we have to
find another solution.

Looks like it
just might work out.

I was expecting fireworks,
not this.

You know,
I was thinking about it.

If I'm a cat,
you are a dog.

I'll take that, man.

I will take that.
Dogs are awesome.

You know,
friendly, loyal.

But they're loud, kind of dirty.

Stupid. I mean, you
said so yourself,

the cat is a superior animal.
- I did say that,

but I no longer maintain
that philosophy.

People change, Danny.
Dogs do, too.

Cats, on the other hand,

are inflexible
and set in their ways,

just like you.

Hmm.

Yet, somehow we manage to get along.

Oh, he's-he's going for Eddie's bowl.

Eddie. Eddie. Eddie!

Eddie! Eddie!

Eddie, put the cat down!

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man