Original subtitles

Merle?

That you?

Who is that?

Who's there?

Whoever you are, this thing is mine!

I pulled it out of the lake! I got salvage rights!

Stay back!

Stay back!

Bioluminescence.

The production of light by a living organism.

Bam. Someone is gonna crush their bio test, I'm telling you.

So I got Mauricio's info for the party.

Is he the one who burned down a house?

No, Mauricio fixes electronics. Phil burned down a house.

- Accidentally. - Bye-bye, Phil.

And this party, you know the only thing that changes after Friday

is I don't have to check in with a CR Officer anymore.

Do you really wanna go to all this trouble?

For the record, I'm with him. I think the party is stupid.

Okay, you made it to the end of your conditional release.

That's something. It's not nothing.

Something that deserves a small celebration with a few friends

and cheese from the fancy section of the supermarket.

I do like cheese.

Mitosis.

I did invite Emi a few weeks ago.

In case it makes it weird for you to bring Trudy.

No. I mean, I'm not gonna...

- Who's Trudy? - No one. Mitosis.

Trudy is this cute CSU tech Uncle R.J. is trying to vibe with.

There is no vibe. Zero vibe. Mitosis.

Uncle R.J. and Trudy sitting in a tree.

- K-I-S-S-I-N-G. - They're K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

Thank you. Thank you for that. Appreciate it.

Okay, we need to talk hors d'oeuvres.

Well, I have a new client to go meet, so use your best judgment.

You'll be protecting no less than a national treasure.

- Looks like quite the tournament here. - Man versus fish.

It's a glorious thing.

At least when it's done honorably.

Yes, you said in your message you're concerned about cheating.

Yeah, it's been rampant this season across the sport.

That's why two weeks ago, I hired a local fishing guide,

Finch Palmer, to patrol the lake every night.

People cheat before the tournament's even started?

Yeah. One of the oldest tricks in the book

is to catch big, prize-worthy bass ahead of time

and then stash them in cages hidden around the lake.

And on tournament day, the cheater takes the fish

and then tries to claim them as legitimate catches.

Now, Finch's job was to go out with his camera every night

and take pictures of anyone on the lake.

But unfortunately, yesterday morning,

his boat was found drifting, empty.

Except for a whiskey bottle, also empty.

So maybe he got drunk, he fell in, he didn't make it back up.

Adding to the tragedy, the tournament may need to be postponed

while the police drag the lake looking for his body.

We're supposed to start in two days.

If you're looking for someone new to watch the lake at night,

I-I-I'm not much of a boat guy.

I wouldn't feel right putting anyone else on the water.

What I need is another set of eyes on land.

- And if you were to see something... - Fishy?

Untoward.

Your job would be to say something.

I don't wanna talk myself out of a paycheck here,

but don't you think hiring a PI is overdoing it a little bit?

I mean, what does the winner get?

A new rod? A monogrammed tackle box?

First prize is a quarter of a million dollars.

And this

is what I am willing to pay you.

Let's go fishing.

Once we start, the tournament runs two days,

and each day, the anglers weigh in their five biggest catches,

and heaviest combined weight wins.

And what happens at the end? Big old fish fry?

The EBC is catch and release.

Every one of those glorious creatures goes right back in the lake.

- Surveillance drones. - Wow, yeah.

They offer another layer of security,

monitoring the contestants while they're on the water.

Right now, they're helping law enforcement search for poor Finch.

Anything, gentlemen?

Not yet, but I dialed in some pol filters.

It cuts the glare, boosts underwater vis.

We'll find him, Mr. Voss.

I don't understand most of what those two say,

but their company is cutting edge.

And I want you to be every bit as visible as they are.

I don't get a badge, do I? Maybe one shaped like a little bass.

The people I need you to look out for,

the traitors to our sport, they're creative.

Okay. I mean, can I ask you something?

Any idea why cheating is so on the rise this year?

Dickie Dupree.

Came out of nowhere this season, won four out of the last six tournaments.

It's the kind of streak that takes...

shall we say, a lot more than luck.

At least that's what a lot of these guys think.

Now they're just scrambling to keep up with him.

Hey, Dickie.

That guy.

How does he connect to Dickie?

Well, he's one of Dickie's sponsors. Sells fish attractant.

He's got a booth here, but I can't remember his name.

Reggie. His name's Reggie.

And if Dickie's in business with him, maybe Dickie is a cheater.

See, Reggie's not a con man, but he's close.

He's always scheming. He's always looking for an angle.

I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him.

I take it you know all this from a previous investigation?

Nope. I know all this because he's my dad.

MuskMaster Select, gentlemen,

is the next generation in fish attractants.

Live bait gets distilled to an oil that doesn't just draw the lunkers in,

it makes them fall in love.

Don't believe me. Ask Dickie Dupree.

Every one of his wins this year, every single one, he was using MuskMaster.

Oh, yeah? I mean, I don't know. It smells like regular old fish oil to me.

- Fish oil? - Yeah.

That's like, calling champagne grape soda.

Now, what you smell is the sweet, sweet scent

of nine, count them, nine forage species

all blended by our scientists.

Scientists? Sorry, did you say scientists?

- Well, best in the business. - Oh, yeah?

Well, could you name one?

Just so I can look them up, check their credentials.

Yeah, yeah. Gentlemen... Thanks, but we're good.

Was that really necessary?

Fish attractant, really? What happened to the whole teeth-whitening thing?

It was tied up in litigation.

The distributor was a crook.

Yeah, you know, that reminds me of the alpaca farm.

Or was it the wind farm? See, I-I-I can't remember. I get them all confused.

Yeah, you look good, Son.

You still taking pictures for the newspaper? That why you're here?

No, I'm a private investigator now.

- A gumshoe? - Yeah.

Tournament director asked me to, be on the lookout for cheaters.

Cheating is the absolute scourge of this beautiful sport.

Does your buddy Dickie feel the same?

From what I hear, MuskMaster is not the only reason he's been cleaning up...

Hey, Eddie. Come on over here. Somebody I want you to meet.

Eddie... this is my son, R.J.

Oh, my word. I've known this old so-and-so for years.

He never told me he had a son.

Is that right? It's funny. I-I never really tell people I have a dad either.

Ha ha.

Hey...

I don't know why we're wasting time with this.

A couple more days, this guy's body will float up on his own.

You want the tournament to get delayed two days or start on time?

We find Finch Palmer, we're heroes.

Hear that?

What the hell was that?

Oh, my God.

That's Finch Palmer.

Two to the chest. Obviously, he didn't drown.

I'm not sure he was ever even in the water.

Okay, that broken limb right there...

has to be where the body was, right?

- Yeah. - Okay, if it was,

how the hell did it end up there?

I don't know.

Maybe the killer chased him from another part of the lake.

Finch climbed the tree to hide.

Killer spots him, shoots him from down here.

Or Finch was shot on the ground and the killer put his body up there.

It's a hell of a climb to pull off solo, let alone with a body in tow.

However he did it, I think his finishing touch was leaving the boat out on the lake.

He had us all looking down when the body was up.

I still can't believe you were here when I pulled up this morning.

You know, there I was, thinking how nice it was gonna be

to work a homicide without you.

But no, no, no. No, now you're a... you're a fish cop.

I'm not a fish cop.

I'm not even security. I was just hired to look out for cheaters.

Isn't that what he was supposed to be doing, yeah?

Yeah, tournament director hired him to patrol the lake at night,

take pictures of what he saw.

I know there wasn't a camera with the body,

but any chance the dive team found one when they were dragging the lake?

No, but some of the stuff they did find was fun.

Old suitcase full of garden gnomes, tube TV from, like, the '60s,

practically new crash test dummy.

Yeah, the killer must have seen Finch taking pictures

and took the camera with him when he left.

Well, this is your beat, fish cop. You got any suspects in mind?

As a matter of fact, there was one guy I was asked to pay special attention to.

Yeah, I know who he is. Course I do.

He's that guy they all thought drowned in the lake, but instead he was up a tree.

But so what? Why am I here?

Well, Dickie, there's been rumors about your recent winning streak.

Course there are.

Haters gonna hate.

But again, why am I here?

The night Finch Palmer was killed, he was being paid to look for people

trying to plant already-caught bass in cages around the lake.

- I assume you're aware of the phenomenon? - Sure, I am.

Every guy on the tournament is.

But how is it I'm the only one here?

Because you're the only one with a rap sheet that includes three assault charges.

You see, the thing is, is I did background checks on everyone who's competing,

and yours is the only one that came back with so much dirt.

And then there's your social media.

Bass aren't the only animals you like to catch.

You hunt deer in the off season.

A guy like you, tracking and shooting Finch would have been easy.

I never killed anybody, and I sure as hell catch all my fish fair and square.

Okay, well, if that's true, I suppose you'll have no trouble telling me

where you were between the hours of 9:00 and 11:00 p.m.

on Wednesday night.

That's when we think Finch was shot to death.

I was,

at my cousin Larry's house, asleep.

Can Cousin Larry confirm that?

He's a big rig driver.

He was probably halfway across the country that night.

He's just letting me stay at his place when I'm in town.

Not much of an alibi, Dickie.

Hey.

Sorry to interrupt, but there's a guy downstairs that says he's your dad.

A guy who says he's your what?

Hey, what's going on?

Pretty small, Son. Pretty damn small.

Excuse me, what does that mean?

You don't like me. That's no secret.

But treating Dickie this way,

making people think he had something to do

with what happened to that poor man in the tree.

Are you really suggesting I told the police about Dickie because of you?

You're unbelievable. I told the police about Dickie because,

as you damn well know, people think he's a cheat.

Rumors. Innuendo.

Did you know he's been arrested three times for assault?

Did you know that?

You, of all people, should know

that an assault charge doesn't make a man a killer.

You really wanna go there, Dad? You really wanna go there?

Two years ago, I drove all the way to Apalachee

to visit you, make sure you were okay.

What do they tell me when I get there?

"Nope. Sorry, sir, he doesn't want to see you."

That was to hurt me.

This is too.

I know I wasn't the greatest father.

You weren't any kind of father. You left! You remember that?

You okay, champ?

I came as soon as I heard.

Yeah, I'm fine. I just wanna get out of here.

Oh. Let's go.

Is that seriously your dad?

Yeah. He's one of Dickie's sponsors.

You wanna talk about it?

No, I just... I got, like, a hundred texts from the EBC director.

He wants an update. I should go talk to him.

- I take it Dickie didn't confess? - No.

No, but you were right to put him on our radar.

He's nervous about something.

Go see your client.

I'm gonna pay a visit to Finch Palmer's wife,

see if he had any enemies outside of the EBC.

Yeah.

Finch and I still shared the house, but our lives, not so much.

Six months ago, we separated.

But I've listened to enough true crime podcasts to know

that when a married person is killed, the spouse is always the first suspect.

So I put together a few things

to help answer questions I knew were coming.

The night Finch was killed, I was at a wedding in Orlando.

This is my hotel bill,

plus credit card receipts from the drive,

and names and numbers of other guests who'll confirm I was there.

Thank you. That helps.

Can you think of anyone else who may have wanted to hurt Finch?

Last few years, his friend group got a little strange,

a little conspiracy-minded.

Honestly, that's one reason why he and I drifted apart.

But the guys I met all seemed harmless.

That camera, is it yours?

No, that was Finch's.

House call.

- This can't be good. - It's not.

Finch Palmer's camera, it was at his house.

He wasn't taking pictures the night he was killed after all.

So if he wasn't taking pictures,

what was he doing out on the lake?

Gonna have to file that under questions that can wait,

because if you still think he was killed by someone he caught cheating...

the next person we need to talk to is your dad.

Mr. Decker.

Morning.

I'm Detective Abreu. Thanks for coming in.

Always happy to help the police

and to speak to the character of a trusted friend and business associate.

As I told my son yesterday, Dickie Dupree...

Dickie's no longer our top suspect in Finch Palmer's murder.

This guy is.

I know your company is Dickie's main sponsor,

but who needs MuskMaster Select when he's got you sinking pre-caught fish for him?

Those pictures were taken by Finch Palmer Tuesday night.

Wednesday night, he was shot and killed.

It-It's hard not to see the connection.

If you did kill Finch, the only question is why you waited almost 24 hours.

But considering he never sent these photos to the director of the EBC,

I have a theory.

Finch tried to blackmail you with these.

Instead of paying him, you lured him back out to the lake and gunned him down.

That's just...

No... No, R.J., tell her.

Tell her what?

That I'm not a killer.

Son, you know me.

I'm gonna tell you what I would tell anyone in this situation.

Tell the truth. It's not your strong suit. I know.

It's the only way you're gonna help yourself.

Tell the truth.

Yesterday, when we spoke to Dickie,

it was pretty obvious he was hiding something.

Maybe that's because he was with you the night Finch was killed.

Maybe he's the one who pulled the trigger.

Dickie does have an alibi for that night. We both do.

We were at Dickie's storage unit in Pembroke Pines,

the one on Windsor Drive.

One of his other sponsors, Kaneshiro Company, they make fishing rods,

and the thing is, Dickie doesn't... like their rods very much.

So we were heat-gunning some Kaneshiro labels

onto the brand of rod he does like.

Dickie didn't tell you because it would have cost him his deal with Kaneshiro.

The overnight guy at the storage place,

I mean, he saw us coming and going.

Call the place. He'll tell you.

Wait here.

- R.J. - Yeah?

Everything I have is tied up in MuskMaster Select.

If there's anything you can do, just keep these between us.

You may not be going to prison, but you're not going back to the EBC.

You and Dickie, you're done.

The guy at the storage facility confirmed your dad's story.

He and Dickie were both there the night Finch Palmer was killed,

so I kicked your dad loose.

Okay.

Good.

I can't tell if you're relieved or disappointed.

I'm disappointed... our suspect list is back down to zero,

unless you think that's the guy that did it.

I'm assuming that's the dummy the dive team found

when they were dragging the lake.

Yeah, somebody put it in here as a joke.

I'm pretty sure Ragsdale's afraid of it.

I just got a text from the ME.

He's done with Finch Palmer's autopsy, wants to go over a few things.

You're welcome to join. You can even bring your new friend.

Ernie, you know R.J. Decker.

I do.

- Hey. How you doing? - Hey.

Good to see you.

That hand was just inside a dead guy.

I mean, he was wearing gloves, you know.

Ernie, not the dead guy, but still.

It's a good color on you.

Oh, thanks.

Yeah, I know I'm not supposed to be here.

There's just something I need to show you about the case, I mean.

But... You know, Ernie, you go first.

It'll be more dramatic that way.

Okay, the cause of death

was the gunshot wounds to the chest.

Yeah, that was pretty obvious at the scene.

Yeah, well, here's what wasn't.

The bullets were fired on an even trajectory like this.

The shooter was on equal footing with the victim.

Okay, so whoever shot Finch didn't do it from below.

Yeah, so Finch was shot on the ground and then carried up.

Wrong.

Sorry. That's just why I wanted him to go first.

Come on, come check this out.

This is the tree the body was in.

I took a cherry picker out to the scene to examine it.

Okay, all these broken branches two feet out from the trunk,

that shows the body's path as it fell.

Now, the trunk.

These were taken from about 15 feet up from the ground

below where the body was perched,

and look at all these young branches on both sides.

I mean, none of them are snapped or even bent.

So if anyone had climbed the tree, either Finch or the killer,

some of these branches would have been broken.

Okay, but if no one climbed the tree, how the hell did that body get up there?

There you are.

What are you doing here?

I had to pick up a few things the police seized

when they thought I, you know, killed my dad.

Okay. Yeah, that.

I swung by the bullpen in case you were around.

Wanted to say hi.

- Hey, yeah. - You good?

Me? Yeah, no, I'm good. I'm good.

So that's a lie.

You... Do you want to go somewhere, talk about it?

Maybe I can help.

Yeah.

Okay, so just to be clear,

you're glad your dad didn't shoot a guy and stash him in a tree, right?

Yes.

That was quite a pause.

Well, he's quite a dad.

It's funny, you know, when I was growing up, actually...

I sort of idolized him. I mean, he was the fun parent.

He was the one that always said yes.

When I was ten years old, there was this game

I desperately, desperately wanted to see it, the Orange Bowl,

Miami, Nebraska.

Problem was, it was... it was sold out.

A couple of hours before kickoff, he drives me down there,

but instead of pulling out tickets, he pulls out a clipboard.

He says, "Son, nobody ever stops a man with a clipboard."

Okay.

He walks right past the guard, and for 45 minutes

just examines the railing.

Anybody asks, he-he comes up with a job on the spot.

"I'm here to count the urinal cakes."

"I'm here to make sure the fryers don't go above 375."

I ended up watching the whole game from the concourse.

Miami won by a point.

When I was 16, my-my parents got divorced. That part I understood.

They weren't a good match.

But what I didn't understand was how he just disappeared after that.

Me and my brothers, we thought we'd at least get him on the weekends,

but no.

He moved out of state, just jumped from one big idea to the next.

Engines that run on french fry grease,

truffle orchards, blimp advertising.

I mean, can you guess how many of those worked out?

About a year later, my mom got in a bad car accident.

Almost died.

Know what my dad did?

He sent flowers.

He didn't come home?

I'm s... I'm sorry. I...

I know your dad put you through a lot worse.

No. It's okay. It's not a contest.

And yet if it were, I would win, right?

I never solved my dad.

But I'm glad you told me about yours.

I feel like I understand you a little better.

I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

It's always a good thing.

Sorry.

Speak of the devil.

He wants to meet at a bar called the Bilgewater.

Says it's important.

Maybe he wants to apologize.

Better chance he wants to sell me about 100 gallons of fish attractant.

Hey.

Thanks for coming.

Yeah.

I came this close to packing up and getting out of Dodge today.

Then I thought about that look I saw in your eyes.

And you honestly thought I could have killed that man?

Dad, if you called me out here hoping I was gonna apologize, it's not gonna...

No, no, no, I called you here because it was a wake-up call.

A big one.

My own son thinking I had murder in my heart.

Made me realize how badly I need to fix things between us.

And so I decided,

good start would be to solve this case for you.

That's why I came here tonight.

- It is? Okay. - I asked around.

I found out this was Finch Palmer's regular watering hole.

Figured I'd pop in,

turn on the Decker charm,

see if I can learn any secrets.

That's very sweet, but I-I think you're gonna find being a PI isn't as easy as...

No, no, no, no, no. You don't understand, kiddo.

It's already done.

I know who killed Finch Palmer.

Here it is. Merle Crews.

That's him and Finch last Saint Patty's Day.

Thank you.

They'd... they'd argue sometimes, mostly about dumb stuff

like... was the moon landing faked or are lizard people real?

I think they both just watched too much X-Files.

Yeah, his wife said something to my friend about he and his pals being

a little... a little conspiracy-minded.

You know I already told him all this, right?

Yeah, I do. We have some... We have some trust issues.

Late Wednesday, Merle came in alone.

Looked white as a ghost.

Ordered a shot of whiskey. Merle never drank whiskey.

He was a beer man. Drift Draft IPA every time.

Wednesday, he downed three shots of whiskey,

then took off out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell.

- You have an address for Merle? - No.

And even if I did, I don't think you'd find him there.

Before he took off, he, put his cell phone on the ground and stomped on it.

- He was worried about being tracked. - Thanks.

I picked it up just in case he, came back.

Oh, here.

Who's this here?

- That's Dottie, Merle's mom. - Oh, yeah?

G and T, two limes.

She's a regular too.

You wouldn't happen to have her address by any chance, would you?

Almost 8:00. We've been out here all night.

No sign of Merle.

Maybe your hunch was wrong.

Maybe he isn't crashing with his mom after all.

You insisted on coming with me.

You do remember that, right?

Oh, sorry. I guess I just figured wrapping up the case would be...

Easier. Everything's gotta be easy, fast.

As little hard work as possible.

Oh, come on.

I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm... I'm tired.

Oh, you've got nothing to apologize for.

I am allergic to hard work.

I always have been.

But I swear, every time I told you my luck was about to change,

every time I said I was about to come into money

that would change things for all of us,

I meant it.

I believed it.

And then one day, it hit me.

I'd gotten so good at tricking people,

I was tricking myself.

These last few years, I almost called you a bunch of times.

Almost?

Yeah. I-I'd get as far as picturing you asking me what I was up to.

I couldn't come up with anything

I wanted to hear myself say out loud.

But I shouldn't have let that stop me.

I care about you, R.J.

Even if I do a lousy job showing it.

Hey, check it out.

Yeah.

A lot of groceries for such a little lady.

Drift Draft IPA. Merle's beer of choice.

- He's in there. You were right. - Yeah.

Okay, what now?

I distract Dottie.

You sneak around back and apprehend Merle.

What? What are you talking about?

- I'll only use force if she resists. - What?

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, no, don't.

You stay right here. I'm calling Mel.

We looked at your phone records, Mr. Crews.

We know that you and Finch Palmer exchanged 29 calls the day he died.

Just like we know that right around the time he was killed,

your phone was pinging off a tower just a mile away.

You were at the lake that night. Only thing we don't know is why.

It wasn't to help him look for cheating fishermen.

We know Finch left his camera at home that night.

Best guess, one of the little disagreements you guys had went nuclear.

You told Finch to meet you at the lake, and you shot him.

This is nice work.

One of the finest fakes I've ever seen.

You think this is a fake?

Not the photo, the body.

- What do you mean the body's a fake? - I mean Finch isn't dead.

He was taken.

What you have in the morgue is a replicant,

just meat in the shape of a man.

They would have been able to clone it with just a few of his cells.

Okay, okay, okay. Who's they?

The Feds.

Are either of you familiar with the term UAP?

Yeah, that's what people who believe in aliens call UFOs these days...

"Unidentified Aerial Phenomenon."

Unidentified Anomalous Phenomenon.

See, the night this happened, Finch saw one crash into the lake.

That's why we were on the phone so much the next day.

He was gonna go back, locate the UAP with sonar and tow it in.

He wanted me to be there to look it over with him.

I was late.

I'll have to live with that the rest of my life,

'cause by the time I got back, the UAP repaired itself.

It was in the air again, and it was lifting Finch into a beam of light.

I got left behind.

And so you went to the Bilgewater to, what, drown your sorrows?

I knew it was only a matter of time

before the boys at Wright-Patterson came looking for me,

so I stomped on my phone, went to stay with my mom.

Look, you don't have to believe me.

But if you're smart, you will believe the pictures I took.

Get me a computer. Let me into my cloud.

I'll show you.

Like I said, Finch isn't dead, just taken.

- Obviously, Merle Crews is... - Nuts.

Also obvious, I'm not about to put out an APB on an ET. And yet...

And yet something had to leave his body up there on that high branch.

And if this picture is legit...

And all its metadata says it is.

Then something just levitated him away, but...

- But what? - Mutant dragonfly.

It ate uranium or something.

Now it's 20 feet long, like a reverse Spider-Man thing.

- What? - Okay, fine.

You come up with something that's big enough to lift a man

and goes flying all over a lake.

I don't know if it could lift a man,

but I definitely know something that flies all over a lake.

Riz Bashir, Walt Taylor, I'm Detective Mel Abreu.

I'm gonna need you to come with me and answer some questions.

I gotta say, if you're looking for technical assistance,

we should have my partner here.

Walt's really the brains of the outfit.

So just tell us, how'd you two get to be partners?

We met at Argus.

The big defense contractor.

Riz was on the commercial side. I was an engineer.

We saw an opportunity and left to start Drone Nova two years ago.

And now you fly cameras over fishing tournaments?

Event security is our core business.

Crowd monitoring, that sort of thing.

Your website struck me as a little more aspirational.

It says here you're working on a next-gen autonomous

heavy lifting platform.

Right. A drone big enough to move a person.

Move them where?

Off of a battlefield, out of a flood zone, away from a wildfire.

So do you have prototypes?

I can't discuss any patented technology we have in development.

We've got NDAs up to our eyeballs.

Finch Palmer told his friend he saw a UAP crash into the lake

where you guys have been working.

Finch Palmer believed in, aliens?

We think he misunderstood what he saw.

The craft that went down that night, it wasn't from outer space.

It was from your lab.

When the police dragged the lake, they found this guy.

Got me thinking, "What if he was what your people mover

was moving the night it went down?"

Finch went back to the lake the next night to retrieve the UAP.

It occurred to us maybe you had surveillance drones patrolling.

- Stay back! - You saw him looking for it.

Someone caught up to Finch, shot him twice.

Why would we kill someone over a crashed drone?

I mean, do you know how many prototypes go down during R&D?

Probably a lot.

But how many were recovered by third parties?

And more importantly, how many are developed using stolen tech?

Court filings show your departure from Argus ended in litigation.

They sued the hell out of you guys.

They said that your drones were rip-offs of their tech.

They had to drop that suit. They couldn't prove any of it.

That's because they couldn't get their hands on any of your drones.

But Finch Palmer did, didn't he?

What happened that night when you caught up to him at the lake?

You said you wanted it back.

He said, "No, I want to show the world my UAP."

You knew that someone would figure out that your tech wasn't your tech,

so you killed him.

But then you had his body to deal with.

Was it your idea to use another prototype to adios it?

This was taken by Finch's friend, only it isn't a picture of an alien encounter.

It was you airlifting Finch out to the Atlantic.

Yeah, you couldn't even do that right. You dropped him right in that tree.

I mean, you guys, you have a lot of work to do here.

Actually, I think it's you who has some work to do.

You have a really interesting theory, but that's all you've got.

A theory.

If you believe that Drone Nova's in possession of evidence

to support these claims,

you're welcome to seek a warrant.

So much for divide and conquer.

Yeah, we need to get into the warehouse.

We need to get our hands on the drone they used to move Finch's body.

- You don't think it's long gone? - No, no, no.

Not if it's their last working prototype.

They would need it to make their millions.

You're thinking there could be trace evidence.

A drop of Finch's blood, one of his hairs.

Unfortunately, even if you're right, no judge is giving us a warrant,

not with what we have.

- Yeah. - We gotta get home.

If we're late for your party, Catherine's gonna put our bodies up in a tree.

Yeah, right.

I know lots of ladies fish.

Nothing like getting a big one on the hook.

Swordfish almost jerked me out of my boat one time.

What do you think?

I think, of all the parties that were ever thrown

to celebrate the end of someone's conditional release,

this is definitely one of them.

I gotta say, a week ago, if you'd asked me to name the one person

who would absolutely not be here tonight, it would have been your dad.

You and me both.

Still, I don't think you would have invited him

if things weren't a little better between you.

Yeah. I mean, he genuinely seems to want to make up for stuff.

I don't know, when it comes to being a good dad,

he's always been Lucy with the football, and I'm Charlie Brown, you know.

If you give Reggie Decker a chance to disappoint you, he will.

I know you didn't want me to throw this party.

But I think I'd be remiss if I didn't remind you

that the point of it is to celebrate second chances.

You just got one.

Maybe it's time he got one too.

That's right.

The man of the hour.

- You having a good time, Son? - Oh, yeah, of course.

What's ""?

That smile.

It's your cover-up smile,

one you put on when you're just pretending you're okay.

I remember it from when your gerbil died back in '86.

Maxwell.

No, it's...

It's this case.

Merle Crews, he didn't kill Finch Palmer,

so Mel and I today, we-we took a swing at the guys we think did.

We missed.

Well, let's talk about it. Maybe I can help.

Damn thing just won't hold the hover.

That's three builds, three face-plants.

Maybe it's the Argus tech. Maybe it has to go.

No, the Argus tech's the only thing getting it off the ground.

Gentlemen. Name's Reggie.

Yeah, it recently came to my attention that you two

are the focus of a major murder investigation.

Well, good news.

For a fee,

I know how to get you out of it.

Okay, so here's the skinny.

Associate of mine works for the cops sometimes.

He told me they know you killed that guy down by the lake.

We didn't kill anyone.

You two, don't ever play poker.

Cops also know

that you used one of your drones to try to move the body.

Yes, thank you. The cops already told us these things.

Yeah? Did they also say that they think you're still in possession of that drone?

Hey, anyone who watches NCI EIO, whatever,

they'd say, "Guys, pretty stupid to think it'd have DNA on it."

But me, I'm an entrepreneur.

Now, I get that you can't just throw your dream on the old junk heap,

and that's why I brought you this.

Miracle solvent. My own design.

Now, you clean your drone with some of this...

you are golden.

We're supposed to pay you for this?

No. No, the fee I mentioned was for the patsy I found you.

The police, see, they had an entirely different suspect

before they zeroed in on you two.

A real weirdo.

He-He tried to tell 'em aliens were behind what happened.

And somehow, police still like you a little more than they like him.

But if they found something on his property that tied him to the crime...

the murder weapon, for example,

maybe they'd start liking him all over again.

Who is he?

If I told you that, I wouldn't have the leverage

to ask for five percent of your company now, would I?

- Five percent? - Shut up. Shut up.

Well, I know a good thing when I see one, boys,

and this whole jumbo drone plan that you have,

that's a really good thing.

I want in.

My friend Dickie Dupree, I'm supposed to call him in 20 minutes.

If I don't, he goes to the police.

- Two percent. - Three.

That's as low as I go.

Geez.

I was expecting you to tell me it was under a sewer grate somewhere.

You actually kept it?

You're so lucky I'm here.

I'll have my lawyer reach out about the three percent.

It's funny...

When my son came up with this plan,

I didn't think I could pull it off,

which is weird because usually

I think I can pull off anything.

But it's nice, you know, knowing that he believed I could do it.

Wait. Wait, what...

What the hell are you talking about, man? What plan?

Well, the one where I wear a wire, I come in here

and see if I can get you to tell me where your gun is.

Anyway, you should probably get down on the ground for the nice policemen now.

What?

No, it's nice work.

Didn't even need a clipboard.

This stuff really work?

Have to get rid of it somehow.

- Good? - Yes.

Good cast.

So, what's next for you after this?

I got a call from an old friend the other day,

had this idea for an exciting new venture in the bathroom hygiene space.

Self-cleaning toilet wand.

What? Hell of an opportunity.

No, I'm sure it is.

Oh. For someone else, I mean.

Me? I'ma take a beat.

Reassess.

Make sure I'm on the right path to get the things I really want in life.

Such as?

- What, today? - Yeah.

Biggest damn fish this lake has left.

- Oh, yeah, that ain't gonna happen. - Why?

'Cause I'm gonna catch the biggest damn fish this lake has left.

- Oh, yeah? Well, show me something. - Let's see.