Original subtitles

Distributor cap?

I wouldn't know a distributor cap from a baseball cap.

Oh! Mom, I'm not a freaking mechanic!

It's raining, and my piece-of-crap car won't start,

and all I want to know is

can I please use your Triple-A number?

Without the lecture.

(pickup engine starts)

You know what, Mother? Never mind.

Someone's here.

Someone more useful than you right now.

Okay, good-bye.

Thank you for stopping.

You work at the yogurt place?

Car trouble?

Yeah. All I know is it won't start.

I don't know if it needs a jump or a tow or...

Or a screw.

Excuse me?

Maybe you just need a screw tightened.

Sometimes, the rain, you know, it loosens things.

Let me take a look at it.

Let me get my cables.

How long you been at the Kingdom of Yogurt?

I work next door at The Hip Hop Coffee Drop,

but I don't think I've seen you before.

I just started.

And on the late shift?

Yeah, well...

it does have its perks.

All right.

Look, uh...

why don't you get in

and see if it can get started?

(starter grinding)

(engine starts)

You rule, man!

(cell phone ringing)

You totally saved me.

Oh! My mom.

Pain in the ass. Thank you so...

Suzie!

(gasping)

Huh?

Had a nightmare.

I thought you said every day with me was a picnic.

I had a real nightmare

about Cynthia Keener having a nightmare.

Keener?

What could possibly give that woman nightmares?

Other than somebody named Dorothy dropping a house on her.

Captioning sponsored by CBS PARAMOUNT NETWORK TELEVISION

and TOYOTA. Moving Forward.

We are running mind-bogglingly late,

so I need you to wolf this down double-time.

That means you, too.

And if I choke because I'm eating too fast?

I will administer the Heimlich maneuver

on the way to the car.

What's this?

I don't know.

Mom's underwear catalogue?

Let's go.

But it's addressed to you, Dad.

Oh, it's Sports Monthly, like it says on the cover.

What sport is she doing?

Look, I don't publish the magazine.

I didn't edit the magazine.

You know, your mom gets lots of magazines,

too, you know? Yeah, but Mom's magazines

don't have boys in swimsuits on them.

Swimming! No. no.

Dad's still reading that.

Chew!

ALLISON: According to this,

Cynthia Keener had a daughter named Suzie

who went missing in 1998.

All they found was an abandoned car

with her cell phone, her wallet,

her credit cards still inside.

"Blood belonging

"to the victim found inside the vehicle

"led Phoenix police to conclude that Ms. Keener

was forcibly abducted from the scene."

God.

You're taking this pretty hard.

I work with this woman practically every day.

I didn't even know she was a mother,

let alone a victim of a horrible tragedy.

I can't believe she didn't say anything.

Well, it's not the kind of thing

that you bring up in casual conversation.

My conversations with her aren't casual.

I help her find missing people.

Her daughter is a missing person.

You'd think that would have come up.

I'm supposed to meet with her in less than an hour.

What the hell do I say to her?

Why...why are you going to say anything?

I mean, this is clearly something

that she doesn't want to talk about.

I dreamt it for a reason, for a purpose.

I don't think the purpose

is to open up Cynthia Keener's ten-year-old wound

and pour salt in it.

Of course not. But..

I don't think there's a "but" here.

It seems to me that everything you saw

is right there in that news article.

Did you see the kidnapper's face or get his name or...?

No. I don't know.

Maybe the universe just wants you to know

that the Wicked Witch isn't so wicked after all.

CYNTHIA: Melanie Louise

Linder, age 18.

Lives with her parents Marjorie and Clarence Linder.

Hasn't called home in 72 hours.

Did you get to the part where

she's done this before? Yeah. Ran off to Baja

with her friends for two weeks when she was 16.

That, coupled with the fact

that she used her ATM card

to buy a pair of heels

that cost about as much as I made in the last quarter,

leads me to believe that young Melanie

decided to abduct herself

to escape her overprotective parents.

Still, her mother must be devastated.

They usually are.

Um... I know you don't

normally dream

about rich young girls on shopping sprees,

but I'd like you to listen to these.

What are these? They're some interviews

I did with Melanie's friends.

I'd like you to listen to them

and tell me whether you get a feeling or whatever,

and let me know if somebody knows more than they're saying.

What's wrong?

Nothing. I...

I just feel bad for her mother.

Not knowing must be the worst.

You'd be amazed

how much

the human constitution can withstand, Allison.

I just wanted to, I don't know, give her a hug.

It's amazing how finding out

this one new thing about her makes the rest of it make sense.

I don't know what I would do if I were her.

Well, you're not.

Instead, you are someone who's going to figure out

how to make this meal edible.

I'm an engineer. You're a psychic.

Why can't we follow this recipe?

BRIDGETTE: This is stupid!

What you got there, Bridge? What's stupid?

Science. Science is stupid.

That's a pretty bold statement.

What's all this about?

We're supposed to take this stupid solar cell,

make it turn on this light bulb.

Hey, solar cells are not stupid.

The sunlight becomes energy, and then the energy

turns on the Christmas tree light.

But that's stupid. If it's sunny outside,

what's the point of turning on a light bulb?

She's got a point there.

The point is to familiarize yourself

with other ways to energize things

other than plugging them into a wall socket.

But why a light bulb?

Well, it doesn't have to be a light bulb.

You're right. It shouldn't be a light bulb.

That is a dumb experiment.

What do you want it to do?

I don't know. Play music?

Okay, we can do that.

I'm pretty sure Ariel's got an old boom box in the garage.

We could try and power that.

That might be fun.

Hey, where you going?

To get the boom box!

(doors rattling loudly)

(muffled screaming)

Don't scream. Don't scream, okay?

Don't scream. He'll kill you, okay?

Just calm down.

Calm down. It's okay.

I'm going to take this out.

Okay. Okay.

(gasping)

Good.

No, don't cry. Hey. Hey.

Don't cry. He hates it when you cry.

Can... can you.... can you please untie me?

Yeah, right. You untie me first.

What the hell is going on?

Where the hell is this place?

Middle of nowhere, as far as I can tell.

The last girl tried screaming,

but no one hears.

No one but him.

The last girl? It seems like

there's always two of us.

One of us out here and one in there.

One for the psycho to play with,

and the other to watch.

Oh, God. Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!

Shh!

Shh! It'll be okay.

It's going to be okay.

(sobbing)

Hey.

We're going to get out of this.

Somehow.

(footsteps approaching)

My... my name is Suzie.

Johanna.

(door opening and closing)

Shh!

(whimpering)

(screaming)

No!

(gasping)

So, how many days in the last month

would you say you sought employment

or engaged in activities designed to bring you

to the attention of potential employers

or researched and prepared yourself for alternative forms

of employment outside of your current field or specialization?

I would say that I am engaged in one or all of the above

every single second of every single day

just like last month.

And have you turned down any offers of employment

within the last month?

No, I haven't torn up any winning lottery tickets either.

I did borrow a bunch of money from my mother, though.

That was particularly pleasant.

The state doesn't have

a problem with that, does it?

Man humiliating himself by asking his mother for money?

That's not gonna screw up my $240 a week, is it?

Sorry, you were on a roll.

Go ahead. Ask me the next one.

The one about the prospects.

That's my favorite. That's the one I look forward to.

We have to ask these questions, Mr. Dubois,

in the event that the answers actually change.

Isn't that the definition of crazy,

doing the same thing over and over again

with the expectation of a different result?

Could I not say the same thing back to you?

Mr. Dubois, you're a highly educated man.

Clearly, the things you're doing

to find employment aren't working.

We've already established

that there are only two companies in Phoenix

that do work in your field, and that in the near term,

neither one is going to hire you.

Why are you waiting for someone

to give you permission to earn a living?

I beg your pardon?

(clears throat)

Never mind.

Take this to the last window on the right.

We'll see you next month.

(tape whirring)

How come the voices sound so funny?

I think we're just not getting enough power

to play the tape at normal speed.

You might need a couple more of these.

But I don't have any more.

Maybe if you... if we ask your teacher for more.

But my teacher said we can only use

what she gave us for the project.

Well, maybe if we talked to her.

No, Dad, I can't talk to her.

That's the assignment!

Hey, wait a second, Bridg.

Where you going?

To go get the stupid Christmas tree bulb!

Huh. That desert wind's really picking up out there.

Maybe I should take in the lawn furniture.

No, don't. Leave it. It'll be fine.

Hey, how'd that Bridgette thing go?

Fine.

She now has a solar-powered Christmas tree bulb,

which is a perfectly handy device

of you're okay with your Christmas tree

being outdoors and only illuminated during the day.

She also has a little less faith in her dad,

but then again, who doesn't these days?

Hey, someone's giving themselves a pity party,

and I didn't get my invitation.

Touché. I just feel bad.

I feel like I...

I feel like I let her down.

I got her all excited

and then I didn't come through.

It was a light bulb, Joe.

I know.

I feel like maybe if I were a better scientist,

maybe if I were a better engineer...

Or what, you'd get Ariel's boom box to play?

Come on.

Wow, who died and made you the sheriff

in charge of self-pity?

Cynthia Keener's daughter.

I've been listening to these teen angst tapes all day. Nothing.

Not a twinge, not a thought, not an inkling.

You want to know why?

My mind's completely preoccupied

with Cynthia Keener and her daughter.

I got to stop thinking about them.

(wind blowing)

(banging)

(scraping)

(banging)

God, I know I should have brought in that lawn furniture.

Aren't you the girl from that magazine?

Hi, Joe. I hope it's okay that I'm out there.

I've got a shoot coming up and I wanted to do some tanning.

You don't mind, do you?

It's the middle of the night.

How are you gonna tan in the middle of the night?

Well, don't be silly.

I'm gonna use this special chaise you invented.

This is so great,

the way that it takes a little bit of moonlight

and amplifies it enough to give me a tan.

You're a genius, Joe.

And an amazing engineer.

Would you mind doing my back?

It's okay, Joe. It's only a dream.

And no one's going to understand that better than Allison.

Please?

(loud bang)

SUZIE: You want to hear something crazy?

What if we're already dead?

What if this is death

and someone just forgot to tell us?

(bells toll in distance)

(clattering)

Shh!

What?

What? Listen.

Do you hear that?

Mm-hmm.

Maybe he's got the TV on or a radio.

No, no. No, I know what that is.

That's... that's St. John the Divine.

What do you mean, the apostle?

No, the church.

It's two blocks from my house.

I've heard them ring every day of my life.

We must be within blocks of my house.

Are you sure?

Every day of my life.

You're right.

I'm not gonna die. No way.

No way, I can't. Not if I'm this close.

Not if I'm this close to home.

Not if I'm this close to my mom.

(gasps)

Allison?

Why didn't you say something?

I never say anything to anyone.

It's mine.

I own it.

It's the not knowing how or where...

who did it...

what they did.

It's like...

a doctor losing their own child to disease.

Sometimes I think it's God laughing at me.

I think I know where he took her,

where he kept her and the others.

The others?

There was at least one other.

Her name was Johanna.

Oh, my God.

I believe with

a little bit of legwork, we can figure out

where he kept them.

There was something your daughter said.

She heard church bells.

It was underground,

but it wasn't a basement or it wasn't just a basement.

And it looked like it was set up

like some kind of a fallout shelter,

which makes sense

'cause we don't really have basements here in Phoenix.

I still don't understand how that tells us anything.

Well, I was hoping that we could go down to City Hall,

save records, permits

for people who built bomb shelters 40, 50 years ago,

and if we make a list of all the addresses

that are half a mile away from that church...

Cynthia, are you okay?

Every year I make it my business to come to Phoenix.

I look for some reason, some...

unsolved case that I can attach myself to

without expending too much effort.

Some excuse I can give the company to stay here

for two or three weeks.

I keep thinking I'm gonna find something,

some clue, some stone nobody's turned over.

And every year, I leave with nothing.

Until now.

(car door closes)

ALLISON: 415 Natchez.

Well, it's the last address on our list.

You the ones wanted to see the bomb shelter?

How long have you lived here, Ms. Fogerty?

Um, six years.

It was quite the fixer-upper.

My son did most of the work.

He talks about making this a game room

or one of those home theaters,

but the grandkids have pretty much claimed it as their own

for when they're here.

What about before you,

say, eight or nine years ago?

Do you have any idea who lived here then?

No, I'm sorry.

The man I bought it from-- actually, he never lived here.

He rented it out, which is why it was in such bad shape

when we bought it.

(phone rings)

Nice man.

Passed away June before last.

Uh, I need to grab that.

(ringing continues)

This is the place.

Tell me everything.

(exhales softly)

They kept them...

...shackled to the wall over here...

with just enough chain so that they could reach the...

the wash basin here.

(exhales)

And here.

(doors rattling)

(muffled grunts) (doors continue rattling)

This is where he first kept her...

(muffled screaming)

Help me...!

(scream's echo fading) ...bound and gagged.

(quietly): My God.

(voice breaks): She was here the whole time.

(sobbing): Just six blocks away.

(sobs)

(sobbing)

ALLISON: Here's where you can reach me,

um, if you do find a number for the former owner's family.

Oh, I'll find it. I've got it here somewhere.

Thanks.

(pop music playing in distance)

(tosses keys on table)

Hey.

Mm, mm, mm!

Mwah! Mwah!

(giggles): Hi, Mom.

What's going on?

What's all this for?

For me.

Where is everybody?

Follow the obnoxiously loud music.

(pop music playing loudly)

(Allison laughs)

* *

(laughs)

(turns volume down) (Bridgette singing along)

It's all about the mirrors.

And I was wondering if you have the name of a tenant

that your father rented to back in, uh, June 1988.

Well, uh, if you could call me with any information

or-or fax me,

that would be really great.

I hope to hear from you.

I keep waiting for it to fail, but it just won't fail.

I'm sorry. The topic of the conversation is what?

My little solar-cell amplification mirror.

I just hooked it up to the garage door clicker, and it worked.

And then I, uh, I found an old clock radio.

It powered that, too.

Excellent, Mr. Edison.

A clock radio that only works when the sun is out

or you shine a lamp on it.

Hey, just 'cause your world isn't sunny,

that doesn't mean you get to rain all over mine.

I'm sorry I wasn't listening.

I was watching the clock radio

stop working when you click the light off.

You're in a dark place, aren't you?

I still have my pity party decorations. You want to borrow some?

(blows raspberry) (groans)

Mm.

(quiet clacking)

(clacking continues)

Do you have any idea how to do this?

No.

God, no.

Where did you get that?

I saw it upstairs, and I...

You know.

(clacking continues)

(groans): I thought maybe I could use it...

to pick the lock or...

stick it in his eye.

But I don't know what I'm doing.

(exhales)

Do you think your mom might really find us?

She's an investigator.

She's really good at this stuff.

It must be nice.

It must be a nice feeling.

I'm sure your mom is worried about you, too.

I'm sure she's out there looking.

(chuckles)

My mom?

My mom is... home right now

and... knitting me a sweater.

What are you talking about?

Nothing.

My mom... loves to knit.

She's... she's always knitting.

Yeah, she even opened a yarn store in Buxley,

two towns over.

Any minute now, she's gonna...

burst in the door with a knitting needle

and threaten to stab our host in the heart

with it.

(grunts)

(gasps)

(footsteps creaking)

(doorknob squeaks, door opens)

(footsteps approaching)

(panting)

No. No, no, no, no, no, no!

No! No, please, no!

Get off her!

(grunting)

(body slams against wall)

(both grunt)

No! Don't! Let her go! Let her go!

Damn it. Let her go!

(choking)

Stop! Don't you...

Oh, my God... Stop it, please!

No!

Stop!

(choking)

(Suzie gasping, sobbing)

(gasps)

(panting)

Well, I went down to police headquarters.

I looked at all the mug books all the way back to '95.

I didn't see his picture.

But I have his face burned in my memory.

So this is the man you saw kill this girl Johanna?

The same girl who-who was trying to help my daughter?

She lived in Buxley.

Or her mother lived in Buxley.

At least she owned a shop there, a yarn store or something.

(bell dings)

Hey. Welcome to The Complicated Yarn.

What can I do for you? CYNTHIA: Marion Wheeler?

Are you the owner of this store?

Maybe. Who are you?

Actually, we're here

to talk to you about your daughter, Mrs. Wheeler.

Okay. Again, who-who are you?

We're investigators working on a missing persons case,

an incident that happened nine years ago.

Your daughter's name came up.

I don't understand.

Johanna. We're talking about Johanna.

We think we know what might have happened to her.

M-My Johanna?

We thought you might have filed a police report,

but we can't find a record of that.

(laughs)

Okay, I'm sorry. I just... I-I...

I have... I have... I have no idea what you're talking about.

Johanna. Her disappearance.

In 1998.

Okay, I'm sorry. There's...

Th-there's obviously some horrible mistake here.

M-My daughter isn't missing. She's never been missing.

She never disappeared.

I mean, I was with her yesterday here, and...

and-and I spoke to her this morning.

She's... she's fine.

She's fine?

Uh, par-pardon me. Forgive me.

Do you have a picture of her?

If I could just look at her...

Uh, yes, I do-- right over here.

We took a trip to Orlando together a couple of months ago.

Oh, my goodness,

that's her.

That's... that's who?

That's my daughter. That's my Johanna.

And-and really, for the life of me,

I c... I cannot figure out what you people want with her.

Um, you're right, Mrs. Wheeler.

We've obviously made some sort of horrible mistake.

Sorry to have bothered you.

ALLISON: But she exists.

The fallout shelter exists.

It must mean something.

It means you're wrong.

It means I'm actually... I'm actually angry

that that woman's daughter isn't dead

because she couldn't have been there

for my daughter in her final moments,

if, in fact, she was ever even in that basement.

Cynthia! I think we've come to the end of the line, Allison.

What does that mean?

It means... I don't want to have anything further to do with you.

I no longer want any association with you.

It means you're fired!

Where can I drop you off?

* *

* *

* *

(gasps)

Uh, I don't understand.

We're talking about Ariel's old toy?

Here's the thing: it isn't just a toy.

I actually think that it might have real-world applications.

I mean, there are problems on top of problems

but if I could lick even just a few of them...

Wait, slow down.

Are you telling me you think you...

you actually invented something?

Al, I've invented a lot of things.

But they always belonged to Aerodytech.

This... this would be mine.

This could be ours.

I mean, think about it: our own company.

Some control over our own destiny.

I mean, I'm actually starting to think

that everything that happened with my job,

that it was supposed to happen

so that I could be here now,

get this idea, have this new future.

I don't understand.

How does this work? What do we do next?

We just put a sign outside the house,

"solar-cell amplifiers for sale"?

Well, that's what I've been trying to figure out

since 3:00 in the morning.

First thing I got to do is file a bunch of legal papers,

patents and things.

Then I got to get a working model built,

maybe I have to pay for some testing, some studies

so that I can show people

that it actually does what I say it can do.

And then the key to the whole thing

is I got to meet with some venture capitalists.

Wait a second. Wait a second.

All that sounds like it costs money.

All that sounds expensive.

Well, that's why you meet with the venture capitalists:

to get the money to start the business.

Yeah, but... all the stuff before that

all the stuff before you take it to them--

the lawyers and the model and the studies.

Yeah, I figure all that's gonna cost about 30,000.

Joe, come on.

$30,000?

We don't even have $3,000.

I mean, Cynthia Keener fired me yesterday.

We're getting $240 a week from unemployment.

We don't have money for this kind of thing right now.

But we do. (phone rings)

Don't get that.

But the kids are asleep. Please...

We're in the middle of a conversation.

(ringing) Shh. It's Cynthia.

Allison. Cynthia?

I think I owe you another apology.

Uh, Cynthia, I don't know what you're talking about.

Where are you?

You close to a television?

Turn on the news.

Okay, what am I watching?

A man who's holding two girls against their will

was just killed by one of them.

Deputies stormed the house.

Turns out he kept them chained up for days,

assaulting them, beating them.

Any of this sound familiar?

Yeah, okay.

Yeah, it was just like your dream...

except it wasn't my daughter.

It was Melanie Linder.

Melanie Linder, the girl you were hired to find?

That's right.

Except she didn't run away.

She was abducted...

along with another girl.

Oh, my God.

And you're never going to guess who the other girl is.

It's Johanna Wheeler.

She was being held with Melanie?

Now, in the present?

Allison, let's take our good news where we find it.

I... I'd like to think you wanted to help me so badly

that, uh, people, places,

they just all got shuffled around,

but you were more right than wrong,

and I'm sorry I snapped at you.

I hope you'll give some thought to the idea

of our continuing to work together.

I...

I'm sorry I dragged you out of bed.

Go back to sleep.

I'll talk to you later.

(beeps phone off)

They found Melanie Linder with Johanna,

the girl I thought was with Cynthia's daughter.

The good news is everybody's alive.

No, I see that.

Well, here's to you.

Congratulations.

Case closed. It must feel good.

No, actually, it feels disturbing.

I can't figure out

why I keep dreaming about Cynthia's daughter.

Okay, well, this is good.

You feel disturbed. I feel disturbed.

You feel disturbed?

Why do you feel disturbed?

Aren't you the guy who just had the big epiphany? Yeah, I am.

And I was trying to talk to my wife about it

and then the darnedest thing happened.

Yeah, the phone rang.

And you said you needed $30,000

and we don't have $30,000.

But we do.

The girls' college money.

There's almost $32,000 just sitting there.

You can't be serious.

Oh, I've never been more serious

about anything in my life.

I think this idea could be worth millions.

That could pay for a lot of college.

Well, what if you're wrong?

What if it's worth nothing?

What if someone thought of it before you did?

Where does that leave the girls?

You know I can't do this.

If you want to get that money, I have to sign for it, too,

and I can't do that.

God, isn't life funny?

I mean, this whole marriage

has always been about me believing in you.

Now the one time, the one time, the shoe ends up

up on the other foot...

This is not the same thing.

It's exactly the same thing.

Exactly.

Where are you going?

What does it matter? Joe...

Joe.

(sighs heavily)

(TV clicks on)

ANCHORWOMAN (on TV): Police say the perpetrator

was this man, David Draper of Tucson.

According to police, Draper was shot

and killed by one of his captives after...

That's not the same man from my dream.

...torturing and abusing her... (TV clicks off)

Hey, what are you doing?

Where are you going? It's not even 7:00.

I'm going to get some coffee,

some breakfast. I need to be by myself.

Why? Because I wouldn't let you raid the girls' college fund?

When are you going to be back?

Read my mind. Figure it out.

(fax machine beeping)

(cell phone rings)

Keener.

Cynthia, it's Allison.

Hey, Allison.

I'm on my way to the hospital.

Melanie's about to give her statement to the police.

Both girls are a bit shaken up, but they're doing fine.

Cynthia, listen to me.

I just got a fax from the daughter

of the man who used to own 450 Natchez Street,

the house where I thought your daughter...

Yes, I know the house,

and I know what you thought happened there, Allison,

but it was a false lead.

Yeah, well, now I'm not so sure.

The man who rented that house back in 1998,

the year that your daughter went missing?

It's the same man I've been dreaming about.

He's real.

His name is Peter Connolly.

Right, he's the same man you dreamed killed Johanna Wheeler.

Yes.

Johanna Wheeler who's alive and well,

and about to be reunited with her parents.

Come on, for God's sake, Allison.

The man who held these women is dead.

This case is over.

Now, can we stop torturing each other with it?

I'll talk to you later. Bye.

(beeps phone off)

SUZIE (screaming): Please! Stop!

(grunting)

Oh...

Oh, God! Oh, God!

Oh, God!

(shuddering)

(hyperventilating)

(door slams)

(engine starts)

(panting)

(grunting)

The look on your face.

(laughing)

The look on your face.

(laughing)

It was all, it was all worth it just for that look.

(laughing) J-J...

Johanna, you're... you're not...?

(laughing): You didn't think that Peter was stupid enough

to leave all the, the doors

unlocked, did you? What?

You did, didn't you?

You really thought that...?

(laughing): Oh, Suzie.

You sure can pick 'em, Johanna.

I sure can.

But now the play's over.

It's time to take a bow, Suzie.

I... I don't understand why...

(Suzie screams)

BRIDGETTE: Mom? Dad? You guys up?

It's time for breakfast!

Captioning sponsored by CBS PARAMOUNT NETWORK TELEVISION

and TOYOTA. Moving Forward.

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org