Original subtitles

Previously on R.J. Decker...

R.J. freaking Decker. They let you out already?

I'm a PI now.

- Detective Abreu. Hello, how are you? - How is everything at the trailer park?

You making new friends?

I'm on trial.

Good luck today.

Mm-hmm. Thanks.

Please state your name and relationship to the victim.

I'm Emi Ochoa. Lucas is my stepbrother and that's the man who almost killed him.

If I hadn't lied to protect Lucas, there would have been consequences.

But it was still wrong and I'm sorry.

A sinkhole opened up outside your window three weeks ago

and you didn't come to stay with us then?

You wanted to see me?

You can stay here one week.

And then you go.

I was exonerated. It's the very first thing I did.

I bought a scratcher and that scratcher paid out a million bucks.

I'm not released this day instead of the next,

who knows what becomes of me.

♪ Dear friend, if you wanna feel better ♪

♪ Don't let the devil Make you toss this letter ♪

♪ If you've been crossed up By hoodoo voodoo ♪

♪ The wizard or the lizard ♪

♪ You got family trouble? Man trouble? Woman trouble? ♪

♪ No light through the rubble? ♪

♪ You're looking for a true friend Or a true lover ♪

♪ Or if you've been living undercover ♪

♪ Well, I'm coming to your town To break it all down... ♪

- Go, go, go! - Objective, south door!

- Objective on the left. - Contact!

Don't move. Hands in the air.

Clear the corners!

Clear out.

We got ourselves a farm.

Hot damn, that's a lot of weed.

In case you were wondering which of your pals tipped us off,

it was an old lady who walks her dog around here.

Kept reporting suspicious activity like she was trying to win a radio contest.

Karens, am I right?

It's not cannabis, it's carnivorous.

I said it's not cannabis, it's carnivorous.

They're not marijuana plants, they're Venus flytraps.

- Hey, Detective, over here. - Let's go.

Is that a meat grinder?

You gotta see this.

Question for you, son.

Who exactly have you been feeding to your plants?

Come on.

- You're real bad at this, bruh. - Okay.

Seriously, if breaking into cars were baseball, you'd be the Rockies.

Oh. Well, maybe if I had a better teacher...

You got the best in Fort Laud. Don't blame me for your old man fingers.

Whoa, I think you mean you were the best, right?

Because you know what happens if I find out you're unretired?

- You tell my mom. - Yes.

- Which is worse than telling the cops. - That's right.

Ain't happening. I am D-O-N-E. Done, son.

Stupid pick is broken or something.

Well, how'd you do that?

- What are you doing to my car? - Oh, hey, Cath. This is Darius.

He's helping me out with this new skill I might need as a PI.

- It's 9:00 a.m. on a Monday. - Is it?

Shouldn't Darius be in school?

No, ma'am. Some dude who lives near the school lost his boa constrictor.

We're all supposed to stay home until Animal Control finds it.

- Keep trying. - Thanks.

I found the key to the file drawers, unless you'd like to pick that lock too.

Okay. This is great.

Now I have a place to, uh, put all my files.

- I take it things are still a little slow? - Yeah.

Yeah, they're a bit slow. They're picking up.

Wish texted me last night, said he had a new client for me.

Oh, shoot, actually I got to meet the guy in 20 minutes.

Will he be older than 12?

Hey, where's the client?

Oh, God.

Wish.

I mean, we've been over this. I-I...

I need work.

- I don't need charity. - This is a genuine case, R.J.

Genuine case, really?

Like-Like the case of the missing deep fryer?

You remember that one? You told me it was stolen, but that was bull.

It was just out for repairs.

Then there was the time you wanted a list of names

background-checked so they could work here,

only they turned out to be the starting O-line for the '84 Dolphins.

I swear, had any of those gentlemen been interested, I'd have hired them.

Wish...

You remember me telling you about Waylon Abernathy?

Yeah.

Yeah, of course, he was your cellie the first time you got locked up.

Showed you the ropes just like you did for me.

Prison being prison, where the wrong look at the wrong time

can get you a sharpened toothbrush through the old Adam's apple.

I think you'll agree.

It's the, uh, sort of kindness you don't soon forget.

- Mm-hmm. - Hence why I want to hire you

to get Waylon's son, Marcus, out of a spot of trouble.

This trouble,

you swear it's real?

Oh, it's real.

He even made the paper.

Marcus.

How you doing? My name's R.J. Decker.

- I'm a-- - Private investigator.

Yeah, I know the guards told me, but if you're looking for work, I'm sorry.

- I can't afford you. - I'm actually already paid for.

I'm a friend of Wish Aiken's.

Mr. Aiken sent you?

Yeah, he sure did.

He tells me there's no way you could have done what they're saying.

No, no, no, sir. Not-Not in a million years.

So far all I know is what I've read in the papers.

The police were expecting to find marijuana in your grow house.

It-It wasn't my grow house.

It was Clem's.

Clem Crayshaw. He's the one who hired me.

He's a flytrap poacher.

He's a what now?

Flytraps are rare.

That's what makes them valuable.

The only place they grow naturally in the whole world

is the southeast corner of North Carolina.

And that's where he would steal his.

So you and this Clem guy, you guys were, what? Partners?

Clem was good at poaching.

He's terrible with plants.

He hired me out of the garden center I was working at

just to make sure his plants were... fed and watered right.

And I knew it was wrong. I... I just...

My girlfriend, Kelly Lynn, she just told me she was pregnant and I just--

Marcus, don't worry about that. That's fine, but... I got to ask,

how was it you didn't notice a freezer full of body parts?

The freezer was in a storeroom that Clem kept locked.

Before he hired me, he told me

he was feeding the plants ground-up roadkill.

I said that was no good, that the best thing for flytraps was mealworms.

And so, then whenever I got there, there was a big bag of mealworms waiting for me.

Well, according to the paper, the police found you with a big old bag of John Doe.

Clem and I, we barely saw each other.

And we spoke mostly over Snapchat.

I'd tell him what I needed, he'd make sure I got it.

And then a couple of days ago,

he sent me a message and said that... he forgot to order the mealworms.

And the flytraps would have to go back to roadkill for a while.

Don't-Don't you get it?

Clem killed John Doe.

He was using me and the plants to get rid of the body.

The cops, they want me to tell them who the dead guy is, but I can't.

- I-I don't... I-I don't know. - Right.

And since the app deletes the messages after you read them,

you can't prove Clem told you to do anything.

You know, the night they arrested me, they made me look in the freezer.

It was a torso and, uh, two arms and two legs.

And the head and the hands were missing.

But Clem didn't just cut the guy up, he carved him up too.

What do you mean?

The dead guy?

His biceps and butt cheeks were missing.

His biceps and butt cheeks were missing?

They have to be in that bag of meat that Clem gave me, okay?

Them and the head and the hands all ground up.

Please, I just want to go home to Kelly Lynn.

I just want to help with the pregnancy.

You have to find Clem.

Yeah, look at those priors. She's not the one we're looking for.

- Hey. - Print that for me, would you?

- I was just in the neighborhood, and-- - You want something.

Mel, can't a guy living in his ex-wife's pool house

pay her new wife a visit without wanting something?

I mean, please.

Mm-hmm, if you didn't, you wouldn't be holding a bag of

what I assume are pastelitos from my favorite bakery.

All right.

- I caught a new case. - Mmm.

Marcus Abernathy. He's accused of--

Oh. Yeah, turning some John Doe into plant food. Yeah.

- Yes. - Not my case. Can't help you.

- Okay, well, even if it isn't your case... - Detective.

...you could give me a wee peek at the case file.

I got a lead on a new suspect I like for it, Clem Crayshaw.

I just... I want to know if he's on your radar. That's all I want to know.

Uh, meet me outside in ten minutes. I'll bring you the files.

- Really? - No, idiot.

- Oh. - Also, the house,

stop leaving the seat up. You live with three women.

Three, R.J.

Kelly Lynn, it's, uh, Aloysius Aiken.

I believe Marcus's public defender told you to expect me?

So, uh, Marcus's attorney said that you were friends

with Marcus's dad or something?

Yeah, Waylon.

Yeah, me and him, uh, did a stretch together

at Zephyrhills Correctional about 20 years ago.

You know, Waylon took me under his wing,

helped me understand what it took to survive.

Taught you how to make shivs and stuff like that?

No, um, the opposite.

You know, he taught me how to keep a low profile, avoid confrontations.

If it weren't for old Waylon, a decent and thoughtful man,

despite his penchant for cloning credit cards,

ain't no way I'd have made it through.

Marcus never really talked about him.

Yeah, well, Marcus never got to know him.

Yeah, Waylon was already serving his sentence when Marcus was born,

and a couple of years later, Waylon was diagnosed with leukemia.

Yeah, before he died in the infirmary,

he made me promise to, uh, keep an eye on his boy.

Make sure he didn't wind up where we had.

How's that going?

Well, uh, need anything else,

let me know.

Darla Sims.

Hi, uh, my name is R.J. Decker.

I'm a private investigator.

I was hoping I could ask you a few questions

about your ex-husband, Clem Crayshaw?

Can you come back at 05:00? That's when I close.

I'll answer any question you like.

I mean, is there any reason why we can't talk right now?

I'm at work.

When I'm at work, talk is for customers.

No. No.

Clem is a crook and a so-so lay,

but no way could he kill anyone, let alone cut them in pieces.

Well, there is a John Doe in the morgue that might say otherwise.

- Frame-up. - Frame-up?

It has to be.

The Clem I know wouldn't hurt a fly.

I take that back.

He must have hurt flies with all the damn flytraps.

- Okay, so you knew about them? - Sure.

Did you know he was a poacher?

I even went on a few "expeditions" with him

- and his pal, Gary, to North Carolina. - Sorry, who's Gary?

- Is Gary a business partner? - Drinking buddy.

He has that flower shop on Cordova, Gary's Flowers.

He would help Clem keep the little buggers alive

on the drive back to Fort Lauderdale.

Have you heard from Clem lately?

Last time was... about a year ago.

I texted him that he was late

on an alimony payment and he replies with this.

Oh. He mooned you.

Okay. What are these? Are these tattoos?

Clem is a big Doors fan.

The one on the left cheek is supposed to be Jim Morrison.

- I see that, yes. - Mm-hmm.

And on the right, you got most of the lyrics to "The End."

- Ah. - I didn't think it was funny...

...but he sure did.

Does Clem have any other tattoos?

Hey, Wish.

We got a problem.

Is that someone's rear you're showing me?

Yeah, it's the rear of the guy Marcus was working for, Clem Crayshaw.

The one he said had to be the real killer?

Look at the tattoo.

"The End."

Oh, it's pretty good.

Actually, it's bad.

According to his ex-wife, the only other tattoos he had were on his arms.

Stick of dynamite on each bicep.

So?

So the body the police found in the freezer,

it wasn't just missing its head and hands,

it was missing his butt and biceps too.

Because if I'm right, it's because the killer wanted

to get rid of all of John Doe's identifying features.

Teeth, fingerprints, and tattoos.

I don't think Clem put the body in the freezer.

I think Clem was the body in the freezer.

Marcus told you this Clem guy had to be the killer.

Finding him was how you were gonna clear Marcus

of John Doe's murder, but if Clem is John Doe...

...who the hell was sending instructions to Marcus over Snapchat?

Well, you're assuming somebody was.

Wish, this case, it's not about a payday for me, you know that.

I-I want to do right by you as badly as you want to do right by Waylon.

- But? - But...

You sure Marcus couldn't have done this?

Hell, you met him.

- What do you think? - Look, hear me out.

Marcus found out he was having a baby.

Maybe he realized he needed to make more money.

So what? He kills his boss to take over his flytrap business?

Uh-huh.

No, uh-uh.

Marcus didn't do this.

You stay the course, find a way to figure it out.

But if the police don't already know Clem is John Doe,

they're gonna know soon, and they're going to turn up the heat on Marcus.

Well then, you're gonna have to work fast now, won't you?

Okay.

- Morning. - Shoot.

Sorry.

I tried your office, it wasn't open yet.

So you figured you'd wait out here like a stalker?

I thought seeing me in a parking garage might bring back some pleasant memories.

Wha...

What do you want?

Well, I have a new client, Marcus Abernathy.

The police and the DA's office like him for murder. I don't.

So?

So the district attorney is a political ally of your dad's.

I repeat, so?

Listen, I'm flying a little blind here, okay?

I wanna know if the police have anything on Marcus

other than him being in the vicinity of the body.

I-I wanna know if they looked at any other suspects.

So you want me to flex a little Ochoa muscle,

find out what the DA's office knows that you don't?

Mm-hmm.

So this is how we square things between us,

me doing you favors so you can make your $50 an hour plus expenses?

Or yeah, or you know, you could go to prison for 18 months.

Hmm. Mm-hmm.

What's your client's name?

Knock, knock.

I just wanted to come and say thanks for coming to see me yesterday.

Brownies... [chuckles] ...homemade.

Wha...

- Well, aren't you sweet. - Oh, please.

Mmm, for all you're doing...

it isn't enough.

- Oh. - Oh.

I can't believe that Marcus never told me

that he knew an honest to goodness lottery winner.

I did, um, Google you after you left,

- saw your whole story. - Oh.

No, I-I confess, I will never understand how

so much good fortune landed on someone like me.

But the Lord, like the Florida State Lottery Commission,

works in mysterious-- Whoa.

Like I said, the brownies aren't enough.

No, no, no, no, ma'am. Uh-uh, nope, nope, nope.

Tell me that you don't like what you see.

Stop. All I see...

All I saw was a woman carrying the child

of a young man who I care about like family.

I'm not pregnant.

I just told Marcus that to kick his butt into high gear,

get him making some real money.

Did it ever occur to you that if you hadn't,

then maybe he wouldn't have taken the job that ended up landing him in jail?

Clothes back on.

I will scream.

I know that you care about Marcus, but he's a terrible provider.

He promised me two years ago that we would move to Nashville,

and now every time it comes up, it's just...

..."Oh. Sorry, babe. Can't afford it."

And last month when my car got impounded and I said that

I needed it back, like, yesterday.

"Oh. Sorry, babe. Can't afford it."

Okay, so-so that's why you're here, because you think I got real money?

No, it's because you're so good-looking.

If you're gonna get Marcus out of jail, do it fast.

We got bills piling up.

Hey, how much for one of these?

The big ones are 50, small ones are 30.

You know, it's funny, I-I didn't know flytraps were native to Florida.

They're not.

Oh.

Let me guess, you have a guy?

Uh, something like that.

Is his name Clem Crayshaw by any chance?

Hi, I'm R.J. Decker. I'm a private investigator.

Probably should have started with that. You're Gary, correct?

I got your name from, uh, Clem's ex-wife, Darla.

Am I in some sort of trouble?

Well, Gary, that depends.

Uh, you didn't happen to chop Clem's head off

so you could steal all his flytraps, did you?

Do you really think that body they found was Clem's?

- I do. - Oh. Oh.

You know those flytraps in there? Clem didn't charge me for them.

He would just come in sometimes and... [stutters] ...he'd leave a few.

And as far as killing him for more? No.

No, the-the ones inside, they've been there for weeks.

They're not really big sellers.

Well, that's something I don't get.

I mean, Clem had thousands of them in his grove, he had thousands.

I mean, there must be a market for them.

I don't know who Clem sold his plants to.

I told him I didn't want to know.

If what you're saying is true, if Clem really is...

gone, then I'm not the one who did it.

Hello.

So tell me, what does a PI get up to

while other people are out there doing his work for him?

Well, this one's been looking up people arrested

for flytrap poaching in North Carolina

to see if any of them may have drifted south

to take over Clem Crayshaw's business.

And?

Well, I'm hoping you had better luck at the DA's office.

Okay, I learned two things.

First, you're right.

The police do know John Doe is Clem Crayshaw.

They were just waiting on DNA to confirm it.

Second, Clem had a brother-in-law, Brody Weller.

Last year they got in a fight. Brody beat Clem stupid.

Clem's sister, Brody's wife, called the police,

but when they got there, Clem declined to press charges.

Now look, I don't have your keen investigative mind,

but I'd say that's a pretty good alternate suspect, wouldn't you?

Any idea where I can find him?

All I got was a work address,

but if you're gonna go there, you should probably bring some singles.

♪ Blood, sweat, Gonna put you to the test ♪

♪ Yeah, everything I do a flex Come on ♪

♪ Drop down hit the deck ♪

♪ Imma work it just a little ♪

♪ Hands up when I blow the whistle ♪

♪ Ready, set, go Now lemme see you flex... ♪

Do you like what you see?

- Sorry, what? - I said, do you like what you see?

For a hundred bucks, handsome, he'll dance just for you.

Oh. Well, yeah. Hey, good to know. Good to know.

Actually, no, I'm looking for an old buddy of mine, Brody Weller?

Don't tell me.

You two used to dance together?

Very good, very good. Little place down in Orlando.

- Oh. - Yeah.

You're not looking for more work, are you? 'Cause I could always use

another horse in my stable.

Uh, you know, sadly, I blew out my, uh, knee years ago, so...

Well, take it from an expert.

- You still got it where it counts. - Whoa!

Oh, my goodness.

Uh, is Brody around, by any chance?

Oh, he's taking the stage at this very moment.

Okay, yes!

If you're gonna stick around, it's a $20 cover charge

and a two-drink minimum, even for old buddies.

Okay. Thank you.

Yes, what's up?

I get detective work isn't cheap, but I'm looking at this tab I'm running,

and I had to ask, are you really trying to expense a pedicure?

One, yeah, I am. Two, I'm kind of in the middle of something.

Oh, what? A massage,

- a little aromatherapy perhaps? - No, I'm waiting to talk

to a new suspect, Crayshaw's brother-in-law.

He doesn't get off work for a few hours,

so I thought I'd take a peek inside his car.

If he is the one that chopped up Clem, there might be blood evidence.

You planning on getting inside his car how, exactly?

You really wanna know?

Need I remind you, you're on conditional release?

You get caught breaking into a car, they'll violate you back to prison.

Well, it's a good thing I'm not very good at picking locks.

- R.J. - Look, I knew when I got into

this line of work, there might be the occasional bend of the law.

This isn't a bend, okay?

This is, uh, a break, as in "breaking and entering."

Would you rather Marcus go to prison instead?

Right, that's what I thought. Okay, I gotta go.

- I'll call you if I find something. - Okay, but... [stammers] ...R.J., R.J.?

- I did it. - Yeah, you did.

I don't get why we don't just call the cops.

Oh, really, Stevie?

Well, I can think of plenty of reasons, like you having more HGH

in your locker than, I don't know, a hundred pharmacies, for example?

Listen, she's right, guys. You don't need to call the cops.

I'm not a car thief. I'm a private investigator.

Yeah, right, right, and Ramone here, Ramone's a real boxer.

Well, I only came to ask Brody here a few questions about his brother-in-law.

Clem?

Why the hell do you want to talk about Clem?

Well, because he's dead.

Clem's dead?

Still can't believe Clem's gone. First Lacey and now him.

Who's Lacey?

My wife, Clem's sister. She passed a few months ago.

Hodgkin's lymphoma.

I'm truly sorry about that.

You came here because you thought maybe I killed Clem, right?

Well, yeah, you did beat him up pretty bad last year.

Once upon a time, we were pals.

That all changed after Lacey got diagnosed.

I wanted her to do every little thing the doctors told her,

but Clem was so damn sure that his stupid flytraps were the answer.

I'm sorry, how would Clem's flytraps have helped with Lacey's cancer?

I don't get that.

You know who he was selling 'em to, right?

I mean, I assumed it was people that collect exotic plants.

But then a buddy of his made it sound like

that wouldn't explain the volume of his crop, so I-I don't know.

There's this holistic medicine company, Venusian Health.

They would buy Clem's flytraps in bulk and then, I don't know,

grind them up or something, sell what's left as an extract.

Here in the US, they're allowed to promote it as an immunity modulator,

but that's only because it's all the FDA will allow.

In other countries, places with looser standards,

they're allowed to say that it can do a lot more.

What, like treating cancer?

Something about how the extract can eliminate abnormal cells...

...without harming the normal ones.

Clem didn't used to be all holistic.

Over the years, the more Venusian Health bought from him,

the more he started to buy what they were selling.

The idea that flytrap extract could help or even save people like Lacey.

That's why I kicked him out of our house that night.

I just couldn't listen to it anymore.

And, the thing is though, after Lacey passed, Clem did a 180.

He said he was gonna do, like, a deep dive into all things Venusian Health.

- He tell you what he meant by that? - No.

But last week he left me this voicemail.

Brody. I just-- I just wanted to say I'm sorry.

All the false hope I gave Lacey, all the false hope Venusian gave me.

I want you to know they're not going to get away with it.

I love you, brother.

- Last Tuesday. - Is that important?

Well, as far as I've been able to tell,

that's right around the last time anyone saw Clem alive.

Is that you, R.J., or does my wife need to get her gun?

It's me. No need for gunplay.

Well, matter of opinion.

- Hey. - Oh.

Oh, my God, what happened to your face?

Oh, forget the face. Why do you smell like stripper?

The answer to both questions is it's complicated.

Uh, are you free tomorrow morning?

Why?

Oh, he needs a favor.

I can smell that on him too.

Actually, I'd be the one doing the favor.

Uh, I may have a story for you and the Herald, a big one.

One thing that never ceases to amaze me is the number of people

who think the idea of treating disease

with carnivorous plants is just some passing fad.

The fluid from unopened monkey pitchers has been used

to treat incontinence for centuries.

In Renaissance Italy, the best, most effective aphrodisiac,

was a cordial water made from Drosera rotundifolia.

Uh, do you need me to spell that?

No, thanks. I'll look it up.

Most in the mainstream media tend to look down their noses at alternative medicine.

I commend The Broward County Herald for exploring

what we do instead of trying to tear it down.

Well, like I said on the phone,

I guarantee the piece I'm writing isn't about the efficacy of your product,

but I couldn't help noticing that

in other countries it's advertised as treatment for cancer.

Here in the US, it's only ever described as an immunity booster.

Mmm.

Uh, my lawyers, they're very good,

they'd probably tell me I shouldn't even dignify that question.

And they would definitely tell me, it would be wrong to suggest

that the American FDA is deep in the pocket of Big Pharma.

I think your photographer is a little lost.

- Hey, not much for you to see back there. - Oh, yeah.

You want to get one of me near the logo?

Great.

- Here? - Uh, that'd look great, yeah.

Yeah, that looks good.

Yeah, right there. Good.

Hydrogen peroxide, I don't suppose that's one of your secret ingredients.

Why would it be?

Based on my research, some homeopathic practitioners say

it can treat dementia and enhance immune system function.

This despite the fact that toxicity from the stuff

can lead to hemorrhagic gastritis and organ rupture.

You're forgetting mucosal blistering.

That's why our hydrogen peroxide is just to clean the floors around here.

The, uh... the flytraps you use to make your extract,

they come from a grower named Clem Crayshaw.

Is that right?

Uh, the name rings a bell, but I'd have to go back and check on that.

W-Why is he asking me questions?

Clem Crayshaw was murdered last week.

The police think he was killed by a kid who worked for him,

but an anonymous source left me with the impression it might be someone else.

There was a break-in here last week, yeah?

Your assistant called it in,

told the police your computer was missing, then you showed up, said it wasn't,

you just took it home to do some work.

- Point being? - Well, I just... I don't know.

I just... I can't help but wondering...

was it Clem that broke in here?

If it was, did he take your computer?

And if he did...

...what did he find?

I found rumors that the approvals you received to promote

your extract as a cancer treatment

in Belgium, Hungary, and Portugal could only have been the result of bribes.

- Okay. - If the rumors are true,

maybe there was some record of those payoffs on your computer.

Okay. This interview's over.

But please, don't forget what I said.

My lawyers are very good.

- So, is he your guy? - Oh, no doubt about it.

George, thanks for coming.

My pleasure, Detective Abreu, but it's still Georgana.

So you said in your email that you wanted to talk about

the Marcus Abernathy case, but if memory serves, it isn't yours to discuss.

You got me, Georgana.

Or do you prefer ADA Ballard?

Either will do.

The case is Detective Canty's, but he and I spoke,

and he agreed you should hear what... my associate has to tell you.

Why do I recognize that man?

Probably because your office prosecuted him for assault a couple of years ago.

So if I'm following, you believe

- that Marcus Abernathy is innocent. - Mm-hmm.

You think the more likely perpetrator is this man, Remington Aubrey.

Like we said, there's been rumors of bribes in other countries--

Rumors don't tend to mean much in a courtroom.

Give us some time to dig up more evidence on Aubrey. That's all we're asking.

Clem Crayshaw was sending instructions to Marcus over Snapchat.

Somehow that correspondence continued after he was dead.

If we're right, it's because Aubrey took his phone after he killed him.

He's the one who told Marcus to feed the plants that bag of Clem's remains.

If it hadn't have been for the raid,

Aubrey would've kept using Marcus until every last bit of Clem was gone.

Get a subpoena. Search Aubrey's home. Search his business.

- Who knows? Maybe we find Clem's phone. - There's no point.

How could you look at all this and say there's no point?

Because Marcus Abernathy took a plea deal this morning.

He confessed to everything.

He's our killer.

Sorry, guys. I had a long talk with my lawyer.

This way they take the death penalty off the table.

No more murder charge, just...

aggravated manslaughter, which is 30 years.

But-But with good behavior, I could be out in 20.

And you know I'm gonna be well behaved, Mr. Aiken.

You didn't do it, Marcus.

Yeah, I mean, of course I didn't...

But come on, guys, I... I got a good woman at home.

I got a kid on the way.

It's-It's too much to live for, to-to take a chance on a trial, right?

Hey. I can get him a new lawyer. Tell him Marcus changed his mind.

He wants to plead not guilty.

Well, you could do that, man. That won't make the confession go away.

The DA's office will still be able to use it at trial--

Guys. Hey.

I'm right here.

And I told you, I'm okay.

It's all gonna be okay.

Do you guys know who's taking care of the plants now?

- What's that? - The flytraps.

I-I was thinking about them yesterday.

Do you know if the police are tending to them, or if--

Uh... Well, I can... I can look into that for you.

Yeah, just make sure they're not overfeeding the little guys.

I mean, last count there were 24,338 plants.

That works out to 10.2 pounds of food per feeding,

one feeding per week. Anything more, and you're gonna lose a few.

Did you work all... all that math out yourself?

- Mmm. Yeah. - Huh.

The day Clem told me he was going to bring me that bag of meat,

I, uh, had to tell him more than once, "10.2 pounds, Clem, nothing more."

And, uh... Oh, I guess it wasn't...

actually Clem, it was the other guy.

But still, I mean, he listened. Next time I weighed the bag, it was just right.

Did you know the human head weighs eight pounds?

The...

Jerry Maguire, the cute little kid with glasses,

blonde hair, remember him?

- Uh, yeah. - I didn't see that one.

Hold on a second.

Hmm.

The average human head actually weighs 11 pounds.

Oh, that's great. Well, next, maybe you can tell us the air speed velocity

of an unladen swallow.

No, no, no, no, no.

If you add up all of Clem's body parts, head, hands, butt cheeks, biceps,

all of his missing parts, it must weigh what, 20 pounds? More?

Marcus just said the bag that Aubrey left for him weighed exactly 10.2 pounds.

If that was the case, then where's the rest of Clem?

Why hasn't it turned up yet?

Hey.

How's the food here?

- Hey. - As much fun as it was

to meet ADA Ballard today,

do you know anyone else that can get us

a warrant to search Remington Aubrey's warehouse?

Why?

Pretty sure I know how we can prove he killed Clem Crayshaw.

Mr. Aubrey, Detective Abreu.

- I believe you already met Mr. Decker. - Hello.

I was asked to be here by 9:00.

- It's almost 11:00. - Is it?

If the lack of common courtesy isn't on the list

of reasons to defund you people, it should be.

Well, I'm not a cop.

I'm a PI, but if it makes you feel any better, I am pretty defunded.

The reason we're late is my colleagues needed a little time

to execute a search warrant at your warehouse.

What could the police possibly have been looking for at my warehouse?

Uh, the rest of Clem Crayshaw.

When you were using his phone to pretend to be him, Marcus Abernathy

told you that Clem's flytraps could only take 10.2 pounds of food per feeding.

Problem was you had at least twice that, didn't you?

Most of Clem was found in his freezer.

A little more was in the bag Marcus was holding when he was arrested,

but some of Clem was still out there.

And the question was where and why.

Part of the why was Marcus's insistence

on only feeding the plants 10.2 pounds of meat.

But I think the rest of it had to do with how damn hard

it would have been to get a human head inside of a meat grinder.

Clem was my sole supplier of Venus flytraps.

Why would I kill him? Why would I hurt my own business?

Probably because he was about to hurt it a lot more.

He stole your computer and there was something on it

that would have proven your company isn't on the level, so you killed him.

Hey. You ever heard of piranha solution?

No? It's basically sulfuric acid on crack.

I learned about this stuff when I did time with a guy

that tried to use it to burn through the top of a safe he was breaking into.

Did he just say he was an ex-convict?

This guy's plan did not work out so well. All he managed to do was start a fire.

See, piranha solution can be a little unpredictable when it comes to metal,

but what it's really good at, almost 100% of the time,

is turning bone and flesh into soup.

Piranha solution only has two ingredients.

One, Mr. Decker already mentioned, sulfuric acid,

and the other is hydrogen peroxide.

Yesterday you said you had a barrel of that stuff

to clean the floors, but see this one here? See this barrel here?

See where it's all turned to the wall, and you can just make out the "S-U-L"?

And that got me thinking, what if it's filled with sulfuric acid?

After you realized you couldn't use Marcus and the flytraps to get rid of

a human skull, you ordered both of these barrels through your company.

You mixed their contents in the sink at your warehouse,

and then in went Mr. Crayshaw's head.

Or was there some other reason you didn't want me taking pictures of it?

These are two partially dissolved teeth CSU found

in the sink's drain trap a little while ago, and this...

is the bullet for a 9-mm pistol.

You're the registered owner of a 9-mm pistol, aren't you?

Got your message, but if you asked me to come here

because you're having second thoughts about us getting together--

I most assuredly am not.

Okay. Then why am I here?

Our boy Marcus is about to be released from jail.

Police finally realized he isn't a killer.

You could have just said so in your text.

Hey, hey.

- How's my timing? - In the nick of, buddy.

You know this goes on my bill, right?

Anything else?

Uh, yeah, I'm throwing Marcus a little welcome home party on the beach tonight.

The reason I wanted to tell you in person is

because I want to make sure you weren't there.

Well, last time I checked, this is America, and I can go where I want.

Well, it is, and you can.

Actually, see the other reason why I wanted you to stop by...

My car.

You...

You got it out of impound?

I paid. A friend handled the transport.

You know, the other day you said you'd rather be living in Nashville.

But you didn't say why.

My sister lives there.

It's not like we're close or anything, but...

she writes to me sometimes and makes it sound...

I don't know... nice.

Go there. Try to find nice.

'Cause whatever you're looking for right now,

it ain't here in Fort Lauderdale and it ain't with Marcus.

All I've been is bad to you.

Why are you being so good to me?

You remind me of someone.

I loved her, and yet if someone sent her off to Nashville way back when...

Well, things would have ended up better for the both of us.

You drive safe now.

Would you believe this is my first "glad you're not going to prison" party?

Well, knowing who your dad is, no. No, I would not.

- What happened to your eye? - This?

Misunderstanding.

- You want a beer? - No.

- No? You're not staying? - I'm not staying.

Mostly just came to see if we're even now.

You gave me a name. You gave me one name, one name.

Turned out the guy didn't even do it.

What's your obsession with us getting even?

What is it? If we get even too fast,

there won't be any reason for me to call you anymore.

No, I mean, is that what you want?

Getting too close to a family like mine

could earn you a return trip to Appalachia.

Is that what you want?

I don't know what I want.

Not yet.

Well, then, for tonight, it's probably best to just celebrate what we've got.

In my case, an eight o'clock reservation to Decado.

You and the other dirtbags, have fun.