Original subtitles

Previously on Medium... DEVALOS: Girl falls, breaks her ankle,

and the one person who happens to cross her path is

a sexual predator and killer.

ALLISON: I had a dream; this girl was driving through the desert.

Her car ran out of gas and her cell phone doesn't work.

SCANLON: I think we found the car.

ALLISON: What about the girl?

Well, we found her, too.

ALLISON: Taylor.

Hi, you don't know me.

My name is Allison Dubois.

But I know that you are home all alone.

(screams)

It was like I was receiving distress signals.

Nobody could have known that but you.

Or somebody like me.

ALLISON: Who is this?

MAN: You tell me. You're the dreamer.

You're the one who sees things.

You know, when I get off this phone,

I'm gonna have them trace this call.

Oh, I'm counting on it.

And you know as soon as I get

off this call, I'm going to throw away this cell phone

after I pull away from the front of your house.

Oh, my God.

He knows where we live.

(Texas twang): Amy?

Will you stop rooting around back there?

I need to talk to you.

(Texas twang): I could have sworn I packed my sunglasses.

Fine. Could you look for them in a minute?

I need you up here.

Well, maybe I need you back here.

You might want to rethink that.

I don't have an autopilot.

You're right.

My need just vanished.

So what's so damn important?

You okay?

You don't look well.

I'm fine, I'm just, uh...

What?

I don't know.

What do you think the chances are...

when we get to Vegas, after we check in and everything,

maybe we find a little chapel and, uh ...

Will you marry me?

Oh, my God.

(laughing)

Oh... my... God.

I will absolutely marry you.

Now easy, easy.

No autopilot, remember?

Oh, it's so beautiful.

A princess cut on a platinum band.

It's just like in my dreams.

Oh, wait, we have to mark this moment.

Today is the 28th. What time is it?

8:19. 8:19.

The exact time that I decided to become your wife.

Amy...

Oh, I love you, Ken.

I love you so m--

Ken?

I... can't... breathe.

(beeping)

(gasping): Oh!

(crying): Somebody.

Somebody... help me, somebody.

I don't... I don't know how to fly.

Somebody, please help me.

Please.

No, no, no, no, I don't want to die.

(screaming)

(weakly): Help...

Help.

(gasping)

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Yeah, I-I'd rather not talk about how I know

that a plane is going to crash ten days before it happens.

I'm sorry, I don't have a location.

I just know that they're headed towards Las Vegas.

I was just hoping that we could do something,

reach out to the people who are going to be on this plane,

stop them from taking this trip.

The man flying the plane is named Ken.

I'm sorry, that's all I have: Ken.

He's middle-aged.

Uh, he's a white man, he's medium build.

Oh, and there's a passenger.

Uh, a woman: Amy.

She's younger.

Mid-30s, I'm guessing.

Well, I did call the FAA.

They suggested I call you.

Yes, I realize

what the Department of Homeland Security does.

(mouthing)

Yes, I'm an American citizen.

Hang up.

Yes, that's my phone number.

Hang up.

Yes, that's my address.

Allison, put down the phone.

Hey, I'm not going

to tell you if that's my Social or not.

Department of Homeland Security?

Are you insane?

What would you have me do?

Your boss is going to be here to pick you up in 20 minutes.

I got up half an hour early to get the girls to school.

How about you take a break from getting us put

on the national watch list and get washed

and dressed?

ALLISON: And then you get

to the part of the conversation where they go,

"And how do you know this?" And they either say it

like they're talking to Chicken Little or...

(groaning): Osama bin Allison.

(chuckles)

The 28th?

Heading towards Las Vegas? Okay.

What do you mean, "Okay"?

Well, I was thinking you could sit with a sketch artist,

develop a likeness of the people you saw in the plane.

We could distribute the sketches around the country--

regional airports, aircraft maintenance facilities--

say they were "people of interest" in an investigation.

There's no guarantee anyone will actually recognize them,

but at least it's something.

Thank you.

(sighing): I.D.'s out.

Prison gate's up ahead.

ALLISON: So what is it we're doing here?

I thought you'd never ask.

Supposedly, your friend Sonny Troyer wants to confess

to yet another murder.

Sonny Troyer is not my friend.

I've never even met the man.

Nonetheless, you and I know it was the information

you gave us that led to his capture and conviction.

It just seemed prudent to have you here.

Is there a problem?

I guess not.

You know, I was only able to tell you what I did

because, for some reason, Mr. Troyer and I

began having the same dreams-- dreams about women--

alone, isolated, in some kind of trouble.

Women he would then attack and kill.

He threatened me, he threatened my family.

It wasn't pleasant.

It's not something that I'm anxious to repeat.

Allison, the man is serving three life terms.

There's no reason to believe he can do you any harm

from behind bars, but if you're uncomfortable,

I can certainly handle this myself.

(lock buzzes)

Sonny Troyer.

Mr. Troyer, perhaps you remember me from your trial.

I'm Manuel Devalos, the city District Attorney.

You asked for this meeting.

(inhales)

(laughs quietly)

Sorry, forgive me.

"To sleep, perchance to dream."

I wouldn't want to miss anything.

I'm sure you've had plenty of time

to dream in the past nine months or so.

Suspect you'll have plenty of time

in the months and years to come.

(laughing): I hope so.

I'm sorry; I didn't catch your name.

Allison.

Sorry?

(exhales)

Allison. Would that be

Dubois?

We finally meet.

And how are yourdreams, Allison Dubois?

That's none of your business.

I'm sorry you feel that way.

I don't get too many visitors,

much less ones with whom I have so much in common.

Does he know our little secret?

I still see them--

all those helpless women, in over their heads,

hoping someone will find them and rescue them.

That must be very... frustrating for you.

I can dream.

(clears throat)

Will your attorney

be joining us?

I have no legal representation.

After I was given my third consecutive life sentence,

it all seemed rather pointless.

Then let's get on with it.

You have something to confess

and we don't have a lot of time.

You sound nervous, Mr. District Attorney.

I can hear it in your voice.

Born in Arizona, but when you're anxious,

a little bit of your parents' native Jalisco kicks in.

Hard consonants, switching your "I"s and "E"s.

I remember noticing that during your cross-examination.

You're wasting my time.

Debra Waldman.

Ah...

You remember Debra Waldman.

Been missing... ah... three years now, right?

Spent her last night on Earth

at a border bar a lot of Mesa Uni students visit

for the cheap booze.

She was pretty drunk when her friends ditched her.

By the time she wandered into the desert

lost and confused, filled with fear,

I was already having dreams about her.

When she passed out,

I was already two-thirds of the way there.

Okay.

Where's her body?

Raised in Oklahoma?

I've never heard your voice

in person before, but there it is,

diphthongization of short vowels and all.

Mr. Troyer...

The state of Texas has filed papers for my extradition.

Seems they found the remains of a young woman

in a grain silo outside Aberdeen.

Something about my DNA being present

in several of the pockets between her teeth and gums.

Those forensic scientists,

those Crime Scene Investigators,

they all have such lurid imaginations.

(slams chains on table)

Nonetheless, the state of Texas seems

to actually enjoy executing fellows like me.

I would prefer to stay here, in comfortable Arizona,

serve my three life sentences, and dream.

If you file papers to block their extradition,

I will provide you with precise directions

to the location of Ms. Waldman's remains.

It was nice to finally make your acquaintance.

Deputy Mayor Lynn DiNovi, please.

Sure, I'll hold.

Something bothering you?

It's weird.

When Sonny Troyer was active, when he was killing,

I dreamt the same dreams he had.

I never dreamt of Debbie Waldman.

Of course, that was before I worked in your office,

before I took everything that I felt,

everything I dreamt so seriously.

Are you suggesting he's lying?

To be honest with you,

the bell that's going off loudest in my head

has to do with the plane crash ten days from...

Lynn. Manuel.

Hold onto your hat.

Sonny Troyer, the serial killer,

just confessed to the killing of Debra Waldman,

the co-ed who's been missing since 2004.

No, he won't tell us where the body is

until we get Texas to waive his extradition on another matter,

which is why I'm calling.

I need you to tell the mayor to call the governor.

I need the governor to get on the phone

with our friends in Texas.

(chuckles): Hey.

If it isn't our favorite candidate for city council.

To what do I owe this honor?

It's done.

Excuse me?

Late last night, the Governor called the Mayor.

Texas is gonna waive their rights to Sonny Troyer,

at least for the moment.

At least long enough for you to see

if there really is a body where he says there is.

So let me ask you... Whew!

how sure are you that

what this guy's telling you is the truth?

Are you pretty confident about this body?

What's he gain by lying?

If he tells us where to go and there's no body there,

he's still in prison for the rest of his life,

and Texas is still free to take him and fry him.

The mayor might want to leak something to the press

about an ongoing investigation into the disappearance

of a young college co-ed,

an investigation spearheaded by His Honor.

You. Me.

Well, that wouldn't be a bad thing

for someone running for, say, city council, would it?

Not a bad thing for a district attorney either.

(knocking on door)

DEVALOS: Yeah?

Hey.

I got a fistful of messages here from you.

Are you stalking me? I've been trying to get in

to see you all day.

It's the 27th. Okay.

Tomorrow's the day that small plane is supposed to go down.

I was wondering if you got any calls from anyone,

off our sketches-- any persons of interest.

Not a one.

Well, maybe that's good news.

Maybe it's gonna happen on the 28th of another month.

Maybe we can still stop it.

Maybe.

I, uh...

Sorry.

JOE: It's been over a week, Allison.

You done everything you can.

Well, that's the thing.

I really haven't been able to do anything, really.

Well, maybe you're not supposed to.

What is that supposed to mean?

Well, I don't know.

I don't subscribe to the Psychic Friends Network.

But if the modus operandi you have to buy into

is that there's actually a plan for all this,

then perhaps this once you're not part of it.

Perhaps this particular message,

this particular dream, ended up in your inbox by mistake.

What are you saying, these people are supposed to die?

Maybe that's the plan for them.

Maybe they're horrible people.

No.

I don't believe that.

(siren blaring)

(fire roaring)

MAN (over P.A.): All prisoners,

step away from the plane!

All prisoners, step away from the plane!

All prisoners,

step away from the plane!

(gun cocking)

All prisoners in the yard

will immediately return to the block.

All prisoners in the yard will immediately...

Oh, my God.

He knows about the plane.

(chuckles): Hey, early bird.

It's not even 7:00.

Don't you carry your cell phone? It's in my office.

I called your house.

Yeah, I've been here since quarter to 6:00

working in the law library, putting together the thing

for the judge tomorrow.

I know why Sonny Troyer

confessed to killing Debbie Waldman.

He dreamt about the same plane crash I did.

Not this again, Allison.

I've already done everything I possibly can.

It is going to happen.

That plane is gonna crash into the Arizona State Prison.

This morning, today, 8:19.

Sonny Troyer is gonna make it his business

to be out on the prison yard when it does.

Think about it: He dreamt the dream,

he recognized the location,

he realized that if he was sent to Texas,

he would miss his chance at escape,

so he came up with the whole confession thing.

Has he told you the location of the body yet?

Today. I'm scheduled to go out to the prison this afternoon.

He's not even gonna be there this afternoon.

Please.

We have to call the prison.

We have to find the warden.

What do I tell him?

Anything. Anything that'll keep

Sonny Troyer off of that prison yard till after 8:19.

(line ringing over speakerphone)

ECKLER: This is Warden Eckler.

Warden Eckler-- I'm sorry to disturb you

at such an early hour, sir.

This is District Attorney Manuel Devalos over in Phoenix.

I have you on speakerphone.

Morning, Mr. District Attorney.

Just getting into my office. How can I...?

Sir, some investigators working under me have just come into

some highly credible information about a possible

large-scale escape attempt at your prison.

Are you serious?

I most certainly am.

To the best of our knowledge, the plan is set

to happen just after 8:00 this morning.

I'm not at liberty to discuss the particulars,

but it is crucial

that you clear the prison yard immediately

and initiate an immediate lockdown.

And specifically, most specifically,

that you isolate prisoner number 16309,

Sonny Troyer.

A pretty tall order, counselor.

It's already quarter past 7:00 on my watch.

But I think we can make this happen.

(laughs)

Much appreciated, sir.

Yeah, well, you owe me a steak dinner

next time I'm over your way.

(jet engines roaring)

What the hell?

Hang on a second.

(engines roaring louder)

(explosion, then alarm sounding)

(dial tone)

Come on...

(speed dialing beeps)

(musical tone)

FEMALE VOICE: You have reached a number

that has been disconnected...

No, wait-- it's only 7:20.

Please check the number and try your call again.

(musical tone)

TV ANCHORMAN: And the hunt continues tonight

for Sonny Troyer, the notorious serial killer

who escaped from Arizona State Prison today

after a freakish private jet crash

that killed two.

A statewide manhunt is currently underway,

with federal marshals coordinating their efforts

with local authorities, setting up roadblocks

and monitoring all airports and...

(TV turns off)

Yes, thank you. Thank you very much.

That was the FAA.

The pilot was a Ken Androsky,

and his passenger was his girlfriend Amy Chandler.

They took off from a private airstrip in El Paso;

they didn't file a flight plan. El Paso, Texas--

an hour ahead of us.

There's no way you could have known.

He knew. Sonny Troyer knew.

He heard it in their accents.

(knocking)

Hey, I just went through Sonny Troyer's cell with the dogs.

No luck at all.

Apparently, he doused everything with rubbing alcohol--

his clothes, the linens, even his mattress.

Even switched clothes with one of the other inmates

before he went out to the yard this morning.

This isn't what you'd call a spontaneous trip.

You want to see something else?

DEVALOS: Scientific Foundations of ESP,

Psychic Phenomena in the Real World,

The Uses and Control of Paranormal Activity.

Looks like he's getting ready for a test of some kind.

Getting ready for something.

Why couldn't he just hang out

in the weight room with all the other lifers?

ALLISON: You know what?

This marshal on TV, he was talking about prison breaks

and how they usually have

everyone rounded up in six hours.

Now where is he hiding?

He's one man, on foot, wearing an orange jumpsuit.

How hard can that be to find?

(yawns): I don't know.

But if he caught a break,

he could be halfway to Mexico by now.

No.

He's somewhere asleep.

Excuse me?

Think about it.

He's just spent nine frustrating months

waiting for an opportunity to do what he does best:

to prey on women in peril.

And to what do we owe this optimism?

You should have seen the library of books

that they pulled out of his cell.

This is not a man waiting to retire.

So they close off the border,

make it impossible for him to leave.

No-- he's gonna do what he's built to do,

and he's gonna do it right here in Phoenix...

soon as he can get some sleep;

soon as he can close his eyes.

Closing eyes.

Getting rest.

Oh, my goodness.

I think this fellow may be onto something.

(sighs)

Hey...

That's not funny.

I'm still talking.

(groans)

Hey.

Fine, play dead.

You won't be playing for long.

(sighs)

(bell dings)

(elevator clanks)

Oh, geez.

Lord...

Please.

Hello...?!

Hello!

Can anyone hear me?!

Help!

Help...!

(gasps)

(groaning): Allison.

There's a woman-- she's trapped in an elevator,

She's calling for help. What?

(sighs) It's those dreams.

The same one that Sonny Troyer's having, I'm having them again.

I have to call Scanlon.

No. Honey...

Even if he's having the same dreams, which you don't know,

he's a wanted man.

His face is on every newscast;

every cop in town is looking for him.

I mean, do you really think that he's gonna

stick his neck out to kill this woman in an elevator?

Do you want to take that chance?

I have to get her out of there. But out of where?

Do you know, do you know where the elevator is

or the building's address?

(cat meowing)

WOMAN: Quincy. Quincy.

Get down here, Quincy.

Quincy!

(grunting)

(screaming)

Hello!

Is anyone there?!

Hello!

Is anyone there?!

(gasping)

There's a girl somewhere.

Her-- she was trying to get her cat

out of the tree. She just fell.

Okay.

All right. Were there...

Were there any, uh,

like, landmarks or buildings?

It was the woods.

It was dark. There were trees.

So it's like a state park or something?

I don't know. I just know her damn

cat's name is Quincy. That's all I know.

Hmm. Okay.

Well, wait-- now, that's good, right?

Because that means that that's all that he knows, too, right?

(moans)

(ring tone playing)

Hello?

TROYER: God... I'm guessing you having

as much trouble sleeping as I am.

One dream after the other.

I guess when it rains it pours, huh?

How did you get this number?

First that poor woman in the elevator.

Then that girl with the kitty cat.

Did you find her as attractive as I did?

She was kind of fetching, wasn't she?

Now there's a word you don't hear too much anymore-- It's him.

"Fetching." Call Scanlon.

Anyway, none of that is

why I really called.

I really called to talk about our situation.

What are you talking about?

"Our situation"?

Well, I mean... we're kind

of at a standoff here, don't you think?

I have a dream. You have a dream.

It's gonna make it really hard for me to do

the things that I have to do.

Not to mention cops everywhere, my mug shot on the TV.

I had to pay a homeless guy

$25 bucks to buy me this cell phone.

I just don't think we can go on this way.

Hey, did you have the dream about that blonde mom

boo-hooing to her husband

because she just couldn't figure out her dreams?

Did you have that one, too, or was that just me?

I don't know where the elevator lady is...

or the cat girl.

But that blonde mom?

I've been to her house.

(click, then dial tone)

I don't know what else to suggest.

He does know where you live.

I mean, uh... I could move

you and your family to a hotel, but...

that presents all sorts of other problems.

I really do think the best solution

is just to hunker down right here.

We'll keep a be a visible police presence outside your home.

Wait a second. I got work.

The girls have school.

Work? How're you gonna go to work?

I can barely keep my eyes open.

It's 5:40 in the morning, we've been up since 2:00.

How are you going to go to work?

I don't really have a choice, Allison.

I don't think work is a problem.

With all due respect, you're not really

our killer's type.

But the girls,

Allison-- I would just feel better

if they were all in one place.

(elevator bell dings)

Good morning.

I beg to differ.

I got a call at 4:00 this morning

from a reporter on the Arizona Observer.

This reporter claims you actually phoned officials

at Arizona State Prison to warn them about that jet crash

90 seconds before it happened.

Before the plane crashed?

That, uh... doesn't make any sense.

I don't know-- a plane falls from the sky,

I'm sure there's an enormous amount of panic, confusion...

Why was your office circulating

sketches of "persons of interest"

to airports and aircraft maintenance

facilities a week before the crash--

sketches that look exactly like the victims?

I'm sorry.

I can't help but think that someone is confusing

two separate investigations.

If we coincidentally sent out sketches

that happened to look like the two victims of the crash...

Manuel... based on our conversation,

my boss, your boss, the mayor...

called our governor.

Our governor called Texas.

Now reporters are calling me.

I will need answers.

Do you have any idea the blame storm that's going to rain down

on all of us if there's reason

to believe we knew, but didn't do everything we could

to prevent the escape of a serial killer?

Once we've captured Mr. Troyer, and we will,

once he's brought to justice,

I'm sure all these questions

will be answered to everyone's satisfaction.

I hope you're right.

(phone ringing)

Oh... Ariel?

Honey, can you, uh, get the phone

and mute the TV?

(TV mutes)

Thanks. Hello?

SCANLON: Get any sleep yet?

You're joking, right?

Do you think any of the cops

outside would like to do a little

babysitting?

Yeah, I don't think our boy Troyer

got all that much rest either.

I'm here waiting for the coroner to come help

clean up the mess he made last night.

What?!

Was it a nurse in an elevator?

Or was it a girl in the woods?

A woman in a Dumpster.

Seems like she got in a fight with her boyfriend

while they were driving to Flagstaff.

He left her to calm down at a rest stop

here on the Intestate.

He says that was around 4:00 in the morning.

Ring a bell? No, how could it?

I've been awake since Troyer called.

And he knew I would be.

Excuse me?

Damn, he's smart.

He wasn't really threatening me.

He was frightening me.

He wanted to be sure that I would stay awake,

to be sure that I couldn't dream his dreams.

WOMAN: Hey roomie, it's me.

Waiting for some stuff to print out.

What are you doing?

I know. It's all over the news.

I wish they'd just catch the son of a bitch already.

You're damn right, it's scary.

Look, just pour yourself

one of your Bloody Marys and get to bed.

You'll forget he's even out there.

No vodka?!

Tell you what: I'll call the liquor store

and have them deliver, but by the time I get home,

you better have one mixed for me, too.

(laughing)

Night.

(auto-dial beeping)

Hello, Christopher's Liquors?

Yeah, order for delivery.

Claire Williams, 1701 Pike's Way.

(door closing)

(clattering in distance)

Detective Lee Scanlon please.

There's Sleeping Beauty. Hey, Mom,

I ordered pizza. What time is it?

Um, it's a little after 7:00. Have you looked out the window?

There's, like, a brigade of cops out there.

Our neighbor's yelling at them 'cause there's nowhere to park.

Wait... Lee?

Hey, I had another dream. There's a woman.

Her name is Claire Williams.

She's stuck on the roof

of the Phoenix East building downtown.

She locked herself out and she feels

trapped and vulnerable.

Phoenix East. Got it.

(helicopter whirring)

OFFICER (P.A.): Claire Williams! Claire Williams!

This is the Phoenix Metro Police.

Move away from the door.

Move away from the door. (crashing)

(screams)

Okay, look-- I know we're not supposed to smoke on the roof.

I know we're not supposed to smoke on the roof.

Don't shoot me.

Don't shoot me.

SCANLON: Her name's Claire Williams.

She's a statistical analyst in data

reconfiguration-- whatever the hell that is.

CLAIRE: Detective Scanlon?

Yes, Ms. Williams? Hi.

I just wanted to thank you.

And... well, would it be possible

for me to get a ride home?

My roommate's not answering the phone.

I can't figure it. I know she's home.

I just talked to her an hour ago.

Yeah, I'll have an officer run you home. What's your address?

1701 Pike's Way.

1701 Pike's Way.

How did you know that? Your roommate...

She was alone and she was afraid, wasn't she?

OFFICER: Clear!

OFFICER 2: Detective!

OFFICER: All clear.

Clear.

(birds chirping)

We're bored.

Yeah. We want to go out.

Yeah. We're sick

of being stuck in the house. Yeah.

ALLISON: Lee, we have a problem.

I'm looking at a potential mutiny here.

It's Saturday and the girls are going stir-crazy.

Joe wants to take them up

to his sister in Flagstaff for the weekend.

I think it's a good idea.

Flagstaff, huh?

I'll stay here on Dream Patrol.

The house is surrounded by police;

I feel completely safe.

The girls are just at the end of their rope.

Okay.

I'll have one of my guys follow them up there.

I'll give the Flagstaff PD a shout,

make sure they're on alert as well.

I'll call you like a hundred, 150 times a day.

You call me as much as you like.

Okay.

You got it?

(dog barking in distance)

Bridge, honey?

Daddy wants to go!

BRIDGETTE: I'm looking for something!

She's looking for her baseball bat and batting helmet

in case she has to beat up the serial killer guy.

Honey, you don't need that!

BRIDGETTE: Yes, I do!

Hurry up and catch this guy, Mom,

so we can come back home.

I'll try.

(smooching)

Bridgette!

(indistinct police radio communication in distance)

(yawning)

TV REPORTER: ...hospital for sick children.

Tracy Hooper was given the liver

of a nine-year-old accident victim,

in a four-hour operation.

Hooper is in critical but stable condition,

normal after such an operation.

Her condition will be monitored for 72 hours

to see if there's any sign of organ rejection.

Shoot me and I'll never forgive you.

(sighs)

Are you crazy?

Are you trying to get yourself killed?

How did you get in here?

You left me a key.

Remember? The night you broke it off?

Left me sitting in that restaurant... I don't want to talk

about this.

Not tonight. Not now.

I said things, you said things,

but this is not the time.

There's a maniac out there, killing women,

making an ass out of me.

You wanna spend the night, that's fine.

But I have no interest in talking.

Put your ego back in your pants.

I have no interest in staying.

I'm here to get some questions answered. I just said...

Not about us, about why a woman who works part-time

for the District Attorney's Office is being given

24-hour police protection.

I'm talking about Allison Dubois.

Okay.

That's your answer?

"Okay?"

Are you aware of that the message Sonny Troyer wrote

in blood last night: "Wrong Roommate Allison"?

Yeah.

I was there.

What's the connection between this woman and Sonny Troyer?

I am not at liberty to discuss this

with you. Let me paint a picture for you.

There's a journalist that calls me four times a day.

She thinks the District Attorney's Office

somehow knew that Sonny Troyer was going to escape

from that penitentiary ahead of time.

I'm starting to believe her.

And you can bet

I'm not the only one she's calling.

This thing is getting ready to blow up in everybody's face.

The DA, me, you.

Lynn, listen to me.

Leave... this... be.

We're going to catch this guy.

It'll make all the questions go away.

It always does.

No. Lee...

Tell me what's going on.

Let me help you.

I would tell you...

...but the truth is you'd never believe it.

Hell, there are days I don't even believe it.

(engine revving)

(tires squealing)

(tires squealing)

(sighs)

(keypad beeping)

Joe, it's me.

Hi.

Is something wrong?

It's the middle of the night.

I'm watching out the window;

it looks like all the police cars are leaving.

There's only one left...

and now he's gone.

Hang up. Call Scanlon.

Maybe it's good news.

Maybe they caught the guy.

(line ringing)

(gasping): Lee.

Yeah. Who am I talking to?

Lee! It's me. It's Allison.

They took all the police away.

What is going on? I'm here all by myself.

Damn it-- she promised me she wouldn't

do anything until the morning.

What are you talking about?

That Deputy Mayor.

She was asking a lot of questions.

I wouldn't tell her what she wanted to know.

She was threatening to pull the plug on everything

but I thought for sure she was gonna give me till the morning.

I'll be right there.

I'm coming right over.

Hey.

JOE: Yeah.

There's, uh, been a mix up.

They took the police cars away,

but it's okay 'cause Scanlon's coming over.

He's going to be here in 20 minutes.

All right, I'm waking the kids, we're coming home.

No, don't do that.

Honestly. You're hours away.

He'll be here in a few minutes.

I don't care.

No, please don't.

Please, I don't...

I'm upset and frightened enough.

That'll just make me feel worse.

Joe? Joe?

Lee!

My power went down. My phones are out.

Damn it.

Allison, calm down.

Calm down.

There's a pretty strong wind off the desert.

It may have just... I'm scared.

I know.

I'm still maybe ten, 12 minutes away.

Just hang tight.

Double-check your windows and doors

and by the time you're done, I'll be there.

I had a dream.

(screams)

And you were in it.

(pounding on door) Electric company!

Heard you might be having a problem!

Allison, be a dear and open the door.

We don't want to disturb the neighbors.

Lee! He's here!

Allison, I'm still ten minutes away.

Ten minutes!

You were ten minutes away ten minutes ago!

I'm doing 90.

(screams)

He's trying to smash his way in!

Lee?

Are you there?

(pounding on glass)

Lee?

(gunfire)

(sighs) You okay?

Oh...

(distant siren wailing)

SCANLON: I'm sorry.

We're sorry.

That whole thing hinged on you not knowing.

You had to be alone; feel vulnerable, terrified.

I get it.

DINOVI: The police never really left.

You were really never in any danger.

So, I bet you're full of questions.

Nothing that can't wait.

I'm going to go home.

Let you two talk.

Go ahead, go say good-bye to her.

Hey...

Thank you.

I don't think I would have gotten to this on my own.

You're welcome.

So how about my key?

You want it back?

Nah. It's okay.

I'll change the lock.

No, you won't.

If you ever pull anything like that again...

Are you kidding?

This is my new technique for solving murder sprees.

Scare the wits out of Allison Dubois

and then, uh, bring in the firing squad.

Can't argue with success.

How dead is he?

Real dead.

Very dead.

You should sleep just fine.

Just because he's dead?

No, it doesn't work that way.

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