All language subtitles for The Rookie_ Feds - 01x15 - Dead Again.CAKES.43,05-English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

Previously on "The Rookie: Feds"...

It was your daughter that came through.

That's my baby girl.

- Fortune! Hey!
- How do you two know each other?

He arrested my
mother a while back. I've got to run.

But if you need anything...

Anything at all... Find me.

Asked for by name, huh?

Well, you said to come back
if I needed anything.

Would you like to go on a date with me?

- I would.
- Are you free on Saturday night?

Are you asking me out on a date?

Are you figuring out a way
to let me down easy?

I'm just wondering
what took you so long.

I was the one incarcerated
for a crime I didn't commit.

How did you stay sane?

Fighting to get home.

To you, to your mother.

You know, I took that
settlement money from the LAPD

and invested it into the community.

And the help that I've been able
to provide...

You know, to people going
through the same struggle...

You helped a lot of people,
Daddy. I know.

Please.

I'm sorry.

I am so, so sorry for what I did.

I can make it up to you, though.

No, no, no, no...

- Synced and corrected by synk -
- www.addic7ed.com -

Hospital transport to the E. R.

Hospital transport, report to E. R.

They told me you were here.

- Are you okay?
- Totally fine.

But you left your sweater
in my car last night.

I figured you might need it.

That was thoughtful, thank you.

But what happened to your head?

Nothing. But just returning a sweater

doesn't give us as much time to hang.

But if I'm "hurt,"
a nurse has to check me out.

Sorry. Gotta get that.

Oh, no. A safe surrender baby
just got dropped off.

- Thank you.
- See you after work?

Daddy, your garage is like
a full-on time capsule.

I found a box of my favorite
jeans from high school.

I guess they're antiques now.

Watch your mouth.
They're more like vintage.

But what's in this box?

It's locked, so I couldn't open it,

and I want to see if some
of my stuff is in here.

Why are you digging through my stuff?

I'm not "digging through your stuff."

I just wanted to make space
in the garage,

and I thought this box
looked interesting.

And by your reaction,
it's real interesting.

Simone, put it back. Now.

Sorry, Daddy.

Well... what's in it?

What...

Why you actin' so...

Hey, boss.

I'll be right there.

We gonna finish this when I get home.

So, at first, I'm thinking
it's something embarrassing.

Maybe a photo or something
from his old funk band days.

But I don't know.
He's just being really weird about it.

Are you gonna open it?

I want to, but he's
got a right to his privacy.

Plus, what if it's
some cursed family heirloom?

I don't want that juju getting on me.

Ah, it's about time
you probies showed up.

Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was in hot yoga.

The humidity does a number
on my cell service.

And I got a possible cursed
"mystery box" situation

at home, so...

What's the case, boss?

It's a homicide I pulled from LAPD.

It's a male victim,
tortured and then killed.

The victim's wallet was taken... no ID.

So ERT used a mobile fingerprint unit.

His name's Paul Morrison.

He's an investment banker,

and he was killed... six years ago.

Six years ago?

Looks like this guy was
breathing six hours ago.

Exactly.

His wife, Vanessa,

was tried and convicted
for his murder back in 2016.

As a former defense attorney,
a murder conviction

without a body is no easy feat.

There must have been
an ironclad circumstantial

and forensics case against her.

Which was dead wrong.

This woman's been locked up
all this time

for a crime she didn't commit?

Not quite. Vanessa was paroled
two weeks ago.

Double jeopardy.

- Oh, my God.
- So the husband

fakes his death, pins it on her.

She gets out, tracks him down,

tortures him, then murders him.

Yeah, but she can't go to prison again

'cause she's already been
convicted for that crime.

Says the former actor who clearly
watches way too many movies.

That's not how the double
jeopardy clause works.

Vanessa's conviction
of murdering her husband

six years ago will get overturned.

But if she killed him this
morning, that's a separate case

with different circumstances,
I. e., a new crime.

Yeah, if Vanessa did this,
she is going back to prison,

most likely for the rest of her life.

But we don't have proof
that Vanessa was involved,

so in the meantime, while I contact

her parole officer,
why don't you and Brendon go

find out what this Paul has been
doing for the last six years,

'cause people don't just
disappear for no reason.

- Okay?
- Okay.

You guys, contact his next of kin.

It's his sister, Donna.

She is either in on this,
or she's about to get

a death notification for her big brother

for the second time.

You're wrong. My
brother's been dead for over six years.

I know it's hard to believe,
but the fingerprints match.

It's him. It's your brother.

But we had a funeral for him.

You've been raising his son, huh?

- Sammy.
- Yeah.

How do I tell him about this?

I mean, how could he just
abandon Sammy like that?

How could he let Vanessa go to prison?

Oh, my God.

Vanessa. She was right.

She was right about what?

She came by my house last week...

Hold on, one of the stipulations
of her parole

is she's not to contact you nor Sammy.

Yes, but Vanessa begged me to see him.

And then she started asking him
if he'd seen his father.

She sounded like a crazy person.

Do you think she did this?

"When you're treated
a certain kind of way,

you become a certain kind of person."

Six years behind bars gives you
a lot of time to plot revenge.

If it was me, I would want my son back.

Especially if I was told
I could never see him again.

Where is Sammy right now?

He's at soccer practice.

Go, go, find Sammy
and make sure that he's safe.

This is the longest
you've ever been quiet.

Sammy lost his mom and dad
when he was six.

He's 12 now.

He spent his most formative years

thinking that his mother killed
his father.

It just... My heart aches
for him, Carter.

You were young, too,
when your pops went to prison.

- Yeah.
- How'd you manage?

It took us years of work
to get to where we are now.

But at least when my dad was
incarcerated, I had my mama.

She held the family together.

Sammy didn't have any of that.

Now he has to relive his
father's death all over again.

My God.

That's too much
for a young child to bear.

Violent physical contact
of an extended duration

could result in multiple fibers
that are also damaged in a...

Hey. Pro tip... You'll want to make sure

the camera's recording.

Dammit.

Sorry. What... What are you doing?

I was asked to make
an instructional video

for new agent trainees at Quantico

about carpet fiber analysis.

They want it like, yesterday,
and somehow expect me

to shoot and edit it on top
of my actual workload.

Then it's... it's... it's great
that you weren't recording.

'Cause you want to always light
these things from the... the side.

You know, front lighting... Terrible.

You really want to start the day
by telling me I look terrible?

You look amazing. Always.

The lighting's terrible.

Can I help?

What, and be my director?

Don't seem so shocked, okay?

I directed two episodes of
"Vampire Cop," I'll have you know.

My choice of chiaroscuro
was mentioned in Fangoria.

Uh, we just picked up
an odd case, but I...

I can come back tonight and
very easily shoot this for you.

I appreciate the offer, Brendon,

but it's not that serious.
It's a simple video.

Do you trust me?

Let me take care of everything.

All right.

So, what's this odd case of yours?

Uh, it's a homicide.
Victim's name is Paul Morrison.

M.E.'s sending over his clothes
for you to look at.

Maybe just have a peek?

Maybe there's some errant
carpet fibers or something.

- Don't mock my work.
- Sorry.

- Go away.
- I'll see you tonight.

I don't see him.

There.

With Vanessa.

Be ready, but don't draw.
There are kids.

Vanessa, FBI.

- We need to talk.
- You alright, Sammy?

He's fine. He's with his mother.

You have every right
to protect your baby.

Don't make this something
he can't unsee.

I love you, Sammy.

Sammy, my name is Miss Simone.

We gonna go call
your Auntie Donna, okay?

Turn around.

Oh, give me a break. I
just want to see my son.

This isn't about your parole terms.

You're under arrest for
the murder of Paul Morrison.

We found his body this morning.

Feels light, boss.

This bastard lied.

What are you guys doing?

Getting screwed over by
a dead man for the second time.

I know. It's confusing.

Okay. I'm calling security.

Don't worry about it.

Just so you know, this ain't personal.

Oh!

Let's roll.

This is crap, and you both know it.

Tell us your whereabouts from
4:00 to 8:00 this morning.

It doesn't matter.

You're just gonna pin
Paul's murder on me. Again.

That was a gross miscarriage of justice.

But I can promise you, we simply
want to get to the bottom of it.

We want to find out what happened
six years ago and today.

Please.

Imagine being convicted of something

you had no part in doing.

At first, it just feels surreal.

"Give it time.
These are professional lawyers

and police detectives.

They'll find the truth."

Then it dawns on you.

They want to close the case.

They want to move on.

Did you always believe
Paul faked his death?

Not at first.

But in hindsight, there were signs.

Like what?

Paul was an investment banker,

so, you know, he made good money.

But at some point he started
making extravagant purchases...

Sports car, lake house, fancy watches.

Did you notice any other changes?

He was stressed.

Started taking calls
all hours, weekends...

Did he give you any explanation?

He said he had a high-profile client.

But who calls with
legitimate banking questions

at 2:00 in the morning?

2:00 in the morning? Okay. So, what?

So, you're thinking he took on
somebody shady?

And got in too deep, so he faked
his death to disappear.

Which is bad enough,

but why did he have to make it
look like I killed him?

He left his blood in the kitchen,

in the trunk of my car.

Which gives you a powerful motive.

Damn right it does.

That bastard abandoned our son,
left me to rot in prison,

all to save his sorry ass.

I'm not sad he's dead.

Paul got what he deserved.

But I... didn't... kill him.

Okay. So, then where were you
this morning?

In my halfway house.

From curfew at 9:00 last night
to 8:30 this morning.

Listen.

When I was your age,
my father was in prison.

So I know how confusing
this time can be for you.

And when I was sad, you know what I did?

I'd just tried to remember

all of the fun stuff we did together.

And I would always remember how
he loved me best and most.

You gotta focus on the good memories.

Hey. It'll make you feel a lot better.

Vanessa's alibi checks out.

Thank God.

I did not want Sammy to have
to carry that burden.

I'm gonna call holding
and get her released.

Hold on. She violated
the terms of her parole

by visiting her son. Twice.

Terms that are now invalid.
She's innocent.

I know, but there's a process.

The same process that got my
father locked up for eight years

for a crime he didn't commit either.

Simone, I can assure you that I
will fast-track Vanessa's release.

But right now the question
still remains...

If she didn't kill Paul, then who did?

The shady client Vanessa told us about.

Ah, we might actually have
a lead on that.

We met with some of Paul's
former colleagues

over at Arcadia National Bank.

And most of the clients he took care of

were typical corporate accounts.

But he had one big money client
he took care of personally.

At one point, the account had
over $7 million in it.

And the week that Paul was
believed to have been killed,

the money was withdrawn, account closed.

Who owned the account?

Unclear. It was a dummy corporation
that doesn't exist anymore.

They're gonna try to trace it,
but I wouldn't hold your breath.

So, Paul was laundering money,
jacked it for himself.

That's got to be
what got him killed, right?

Antoinette just texted.

She got something off
his personal effects.

- I'll be right back.
- Yep.

Hey... What'd you find?

M.E. found this curled up in
the victim's front pants pocket.

- Ah. What is it?
- Good question.

It was too compromised by the
victim's blood to make it out.

If only there was a way to just...

May I finish, Brendon?

Yeah. Sorry.

So I exposed it to aluminium
sulfate and steady dry heat...

Et voilà.

Oh, my God. It's a parking slip.

Advantage Auto Park, Santa Monica.

Time-stamped for... oh...
An hour before he was murdered.

God, I wonder if there's a security

camera in that location, just like...

I figured you'd ask that.

So I reached out to the lot, and...

Oh, my God. Oh, my God, that's Paul.

What is that?

Passport photos?

No plates on the van, but IT
is running facial recognition.

Oh, my God. You have gone
above and beyond.

You're just incredible.

Brendon, we're at the office.
People can see us.

- No one's looking.
- This time.

If you want to kiss, be smart about it.

Mm.

See?

- Now back to work.
- Okay.

His name's Wally Sanborn.

He's a funeral director
at a local mortuary.

That's why Paul brought him
passport photos...

He's in the fake ID business.

I mean, creating new identities

is a perfect side hustle
for a mortician.

They have access
to the recently deceased,

Social Security numbers,
personal information...

Everything you need
to steal an identity.

Paul faked his death already.

Why would he need a new identity
six years later?

Oh, God.

These places give me the creeps.

What are you so afraid of?

Z-Zombies.

Wally Sanborn?

You're telling me these places
don't creep you out just a little bit?

Well, death is a natural part of life.

There's nothing to be afraid of.

Ohh, boy.

Oh, boy. You jumped.

Hello?

FBI! Stop what you're doing.

Why? I'm not doing anything wrong.

You're literally burning
evidence right now, sir.

Ahh, are you kidding?

Hey! Come on!

- Oh, crap!
- Ooh!

Ah! Ugh! Okay. Yeah. Okay.

Oh. Hi.

Uh, by chance, did you see a man
in a dark suit run through here?

Great. Okay.

Thank you. Sorry for your loss.

I definitely swallowed that ash.

Wally Sanborn is on the run.
Last seen fleeing the mortuary.

It's primarily pulverized
bone fragments.

So completely harmless.

Never mind. Subject in custody.

We have video of you speaking
with Paul Morrison this morning.

So, can you help us
identify his abductors?

You kidding me?

All I saw was the barrel of that gun.

You see, this is what I get

for breaking the number one rule
in my business.

What's that rule?

No repeat customers.

I told Paul that, but he was insistent.

He said he'd pay triple the going rate.

Did he say why he wanted
a new identity this time?

Hey, number one rule in my
business... never ask questions.

Okay, well, is there anything
you can tell us

about your interaction?

You know, maybe he was scared
someone was after him?

All I know is, six years ago,
he was a nervous wreck.

Desperate to disappear fast.

But the Paul that I met yesterday

was like a totally different dude.

Slick. Confident.

Said he needed to get a new identity
and pick up something in town.

Did he say what?

No, and I didn't ask.

Number one rule in my
business, remember?

I think that was number two.

- What was that?
- It doesn't matter.

We are gonna need the identity
you gave Paul six years ago.

Yeah? Number one rule in my business...

Oh, my God.

Never work for free.

I'm gonna need a lawyer
and a deal first.

- Okay.
- Okay.

Well... you heard that.

Some answers, more questions.

And no closer to figuring out
who killed Paul.

Well, we just got another
piece of the puzzle.

There was a shooting at
Gentle Woods Cemetery today.

A GSW to the chest.
He was rushed into emergency surgery.

They pulled the bullet out,
and the striations

match the ones that killed Paul.

- Okay.
- Hmm.

So it was probably the same shooter.

But what's our unsub doing
at a cemetery?

He was digging up
Paul Morrison's gravesite.

Paul told Wally that he had
to go pick up something.

Now, someone like Paul...

Cold, calculating...
He might've stashed the money

in case he ever had to go
on the run somewhere.

It's a bold move... bury it
at your own fake gravesite.

One place no one would ever look.

Until your killer tortures you,
gets the location out of you.

Well, the only lead we have is
Paul's alternate identity.

So we need to track down what
he's been up to for the last six years.

Okay. I'll get an A-USA in here
to start working on a deal for Wally.

- Thanks, boss.
- Yeah.

That's it? I'm free?

To leave here, yes,
but there's still some hoops

for you to jump through before
you'll be exonerated.

Why? You proved I didn't do it.

But now it has to be brought to a judge.

First thing you need is an attorney.

They'll present your case in court.

Also, they can work on restoring
custody of your son.

And exploring possible
constitutional violations

- of your civil rights...
- Carter...

can you give us a sec?

Yeah, sure.

Overwhelming, huh?

I have no family or friends anymore.

They all deserted me long ago.

I don't know what to do.

I think I might be able
to help with that.

Rather, I know someone who can.

Come on. After you.

Hey, y'all.

- Hey, Simone.
- Hey. Nice to see you.

- I like your hair.
- Thank you.

- Hey, Daddy.
- Hey, baby girl.

This is Vanessa.

Hey. I'm Cutty.

C-Come, sit down. Sit. Sit.

You don't trust me, do you?

You probably don't trust anyone
right now.

I get it.

The system does that to you.

Yeah, it fills you with anger.

Sometimes, when you're locked up,

that's the only thing
that you can control.

It becomes your friend,
your best friend.

Hey, it becomes your only friend.

But cutting loose that anger

that is where you have to start.

Because everything that you do now

will be tainted with that pain
until you just let it go.

Look, all I care about is my son.

I want things to be
the way they were before.

I want our normal back.

Honey, normal is gone. Forever.

So don't even go looking for it.

It's a process.

Like, when I first got out,
I was guarded, too.

He still keeps a few secrets...

Sometimes locked away
in little wooden boxes.

Mm-hmm. Look, trust me.

It's possible to still have
a great relationship

with your son again.

- Okay.
- Mm-hmm.

Where do I start?

Pie!

- You...
- Always pie.

Always.

Pecan?

Look, y'all talk. I'll get it.

Synthetic fiber analysis
is an important part

of any FBI Field Office laboratory...

Okay, cut.

Can we get a little touch-up
on her forehead?

- Why? What's wrong?
- No, nothing.

And... And the turn at the beginning,

it just feels a little... unmotivated.

Uh, look.

Antoinette, you're not
a laboratory technician.

- Yes, I am.
- No, not in my film, you're not.

You're an avatar for the victims.
You speak for the dead.

You're the tip of the spear,
solving unsolvable crimes.

I-It's... That's who you are.

But that's not what this video
is about, Brendon.

And I'm becoming quite frustrated.

Good, use that.

Just like that. Okay, let's go.

Rolling. And... action.

And that's why proper F. A. C. I. D.
Searches for polymer class

can save both time and effort.

Uh, cut.

What was wrong with that?!

I don't know. It's just
not what I'm envisioning. It...

What you were envisioning?!

This was supposed to be
a simple video for the Academy.

I-I know. I'm just trying to help.

By not listening to me. No, thanks.

_

Uh... that's a... That's a wrap.

The fact that you're taking
my son across the country

is unbelievable.

I can't talk about this
right now. I gotta go.

- Hey.
- Hey.

My shift ends soon. You hungry?

I was thinking sushi or...

Are you okay?

Fine. Yeah. Just, uh, some drama stuff.

Yeah, let's eat.

I want to hear about what's happening

with that safe surrender baby
from this morning.

Oh. Poor thing was so sick.

For a few hours, it looked dire.

I held her so long,
my arms started to cramp.

But she's a fighter.

Well, now it's my turn to ask.
Are you okay?

I never wanted to be a mom.

I have the most ridiculous
relationship with my own,

as you know.

But this girl woke something in me.

Sorry, we've only been on a few dates,

and here I go mentioning the "B" word.

Not sexy.

Also not hinting at anything.

Relax. I-I got a son. I get it.

Okay.

I'm going to clock out and change.

Start thinking of where we can eat.

Surprise me.

Hey, Fortune,
this is my work texting me.

I'm so sorry.

I gotta get back.

Oh. Okay.

And this isn't about what I just said?

No. Come on. No, no, no, this...

- Raincheck?
- Sure.

Good luck.

With work.

Oh. No tie today?

Someone's a bureaucratic rebel.

I must've forgot to put one on.

Of course he has backups.

Hey, B, how's the filming going?

Oh, so good.

There's some weird vibes
coming off the menfolk in here

- this morning.
- Mm-hmm.

Good, you're all here.

The A-USA finalized the deal
with Wally Sanborn,

and he gave up the fake identity
he created

for Paul Morrison six years ago.

Nicholas Jones... got an address
in Salt Lake City.

Insurance salesman. Married, no kids.

Laura, Brendon, the jet... it's
getting fueled up as we speak.

Go there. Talk to the wife, friends,

anyone who he may have done
business with.

I'll have a search warrant for his house
by the time you guys land.

Yeah. On it.

The groundskeeper who was shot
at Paul's gravesite...

He pulled through.

So, our best guess is whoever
shot him also killed Paul,

so I need you guys to go
to the hospital,

be there by the time this guy
wakes up, talk to him.

Let's go, "Backup Tie."

And then she just, like...

...stormed out.

So to be clear,
Antoinette asked for your help?

- Well, uh, not really.
- Oh, no.

I mean, I offered, but...

Mm. You inserted yourself.

She said she wanted something
simple, but I just...

So you just had to go above and beyond

because you wanted to impress her.

And you let your ego get in the way

instead of actually relating to her

and listening to what she needed.

Yeah.

Oh, man. I screwed up, didn't I?

Yep. You know it.

But now you just got to do
whatever you can to make it right.

How?

You know, Brendon,
I am your training agent,

not your life coach.

Just figure it out.

Because you are in danger of
blowing up your relationship

before it even has a chance
to really begin.

You know, you would make
an excellent life coach.

Okay, could you stop talking?

And keep digging through
the victim's fake identity.

Are you looking for your girl,
or avoiding her?

Why would I be avoiding her?

You're a terrible liar.

Whatever it is, I know it's your fault,

so be honest and apologize.

Dr. Garro, please report to cardiology.

Hello.

Mr. Irwin, Special Agents Hope
and Clark, FBI.

We need to ask you some
questions about your assault.

But first, how are you feeling, dear?

Am I in hell?

No. Close. Los Angeles.

But the good thing is you survived.

Can you tell us what you remember?

I saw the white light.

Are you angels?

Uh, no.

But we can be,

if you tell us what you know
about who shot you.

What... What did you remember
before the white light?

I, um...

I saw a white van.

Okay, good. The people
we're after drove a white van.

Do you remember anything about it?

The license plate said P-C-I.

I-I remember that 'cause
that's my father's initials.

I-I thought it was f-funny
to begin with.

Then it wasn't funny anymore.

Um, three guys digging up a... A grave.

One had a gun.

Pow.

White light.

So I'm really not in hell?

No, sweetie. But if you gotta
keep questioning,

you might want to get back to church.

FBI!

Suzie Jones? FBI.
I'm Special Agent Stensen.

What's going on?

We have a warrant to search
the property.

And he framed his first wife
for his murder?

Yeah.

This can't be real.

We, uh, take it you didn't know
much about your husband's past?

I guess not.

We met four years ago,
when I was a flight attendant,

on my L. A. To Salt Lake route.

He said he was an insurance
salesman, an only child,

and that his parents had passed.

He didn't give me any reason
to question that.

Do you think he was trying to do
the same thing to me

he did to his other wife?

- We don't know.
- Okay, well, we need to learn

everything about the life
he created here.

I can't believe this is happening.

Hey, boss.

I just ran the partial plate.

There are four late-model
white Dodge vans with P-C-I

in the number in California,
and there's one locally.

It belongs to a drug dealer
named Leon MacTavish.

I just sent you the address
of a warehouse

where the car is registered.

Got it.

I'm sending a SWAT team
to meet you there, too.

So, proceed with caution.

Right here.

Go, go, go.

FBI, show us your hands!

FBI! Go, go, go!

Suspects fleeing south
on Alhambra Avenue...

Requesting backup and an airship.

You coming?!

Simone, Simone, there's no way

you can catch them in this thing.

Sure about that? Hold on.

Hold on.

No, no,
no, no. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!

Hold on. Hold on, Carter!

Ohhh!

Simone!

Ahhh.

I got it! I got it!

I gotcha!

Hold on.

Unh!

Simone, what are you doing?

I'm gonna cut him off.

Get ready.

Three, two, one!

FBI! Show us your hands!

Hands!

Show us your hands!

Leon, Leon.

Look, this is just a
huge misunderstanding,

'cause I ain't done nothing wrong.

Leon, innocent people rarely
shoot at the Feds and run.

This is America, friend.
I got the right to defend myself.

I mean, how am I supposed
to know y'all FBI?

The big letters F-B-I on the front

of our tactical vests
could've been a hint.

Lady, I can buy those at the swap meet.

Okay, let's cease with the charade.

We know Paul was laundering
your money six years ago

through Arcadia National.

We also know it was your gun
that took his life

after you tortured him
to get the location

of where that money was stashed.

And then you used that same gun

to shoot the groundskeeper

after you dug up the money
underneath Paul's fake grave.

Well, if you all know
so much, whatchu need me for?

To answer one question.

How did you know Paul was alive
and in L. A.?

We saw your phone records, boo.

We know the day before Paul arrived,

you got a phone call
from a Salt Lake City number.

So, who was it
that tipped you off, Leon?

I don't know.

But you can ask my lawyer.

Hey, Matt, we're on the tarmac
about to take off. What's up?

We have Paul's killer in custody.

He's a drug dealer that he
screwed over six years ago

by the name of Leon MacTavish.

So we just tore up
Suzie Jones' house for nothing?

No, not exactly.

Leon knew that Paul was alive
and in town

because he received an anonymous
phone call from a burner cell

that pinged off of a tower in...

Let me guess... Salt Lake City?

Bingo.

Stop the plane!

- Back already?
- Uh-huh.

You find out who killed Nicky...
I mean, "Paul"?

Yes. His killers are in custody.

You know, turns out one of them
was tipped off

- by a phone call from Salt Lake City.
- Mm-hmm.

I don't understand.

I think you understand
a lot more than you let on.

You didn't meet Paul
in Salt Lake City, did you?

You met him in Los Angeles
when you were hubbed there...

What was it? seven... Seven years ago?

- Seven?
- No.

We met four years ago. I told you that.

No, we have the flight logs
from the FAA.

Which tells us you knew
all about his wife and kid

when you started your affair.

- That's not true.
- Sure it is.

And I bet he told you all about Leon,
his $7 million client,

and I bet it was your idea
to steal the money.

Fake his death. Blame it on the wife.

That way, he could start a whole
new life here in Salt Lake.

This is absurd.

Now, tell me, was it your idea

to bury the money at the gravesite?

Hmm?

Yes. It was.

And that's why there was nothing
there... because you dug it up

the minute he gave you a reason
to doubt him.

'Cause once a cheater,
always a cheater, right?

Which is smart 'cause he did
move on with a new identity

without, you know, you.

- You were right not to trust him.
- Mm-hmm.

He was just gonna steal the money,
trade you in for a new wife.

Oh, but you weren't gonna be
the woman scorned.

No, too clever for that.

So you tipped off Leon,

let him and his boys
do your dirty work for you.

Wow. Fun story.

But it's a lot easier to tell
than it is to prove.

The A-USA isn't moving forward
with pressing charges against Suzie.

- What?
- Why not?

Not enough evidence to make a case.

Well, so she's just gonna
get away with it?

Hey, Simone, remember, this is the FBI.

We play the long game here.

We have no problem taking our time
when we have a target in sight.

And Suzie, she just became a celebrity

at the Salt Lake City Field Office.

So they'll be watching her like a hawk,

especially after we freeze
all of her assets.

Sooner or later, she's gonna need money.

Right. So, she if tries to spend
a dime of that stolen cash...

We snatch her ass up.

I can live with that.

Okay, Ivy got her law degree from Yale.

But don't worry,
she's... she's good people.

Just a little bit uppity, hmm?

Okay. Be nice, Cutty.

I'll get your exoneration
finalized quickly.

Pro bono, of course.

- Really?
- It's for a good cause.

Daddy, was that one of
your soldiers for justice?

You know it.

After she gets my exoneration finalized,

Cutty's gonna help me
get custody of Sammy.

Okay, and... and what does
Aunt Donna have to say about it?

She actually offered to help me

transition back into Sammy's life.

I'm going to one
of his soccer games today.

Gotta start mothering again.

Alright. Bit of advice...

Bring orange slices for Sammy's team.

Those always play well.

I can handle that.

This means everything to me.

Thank you both so much.

Come here.

Aww. Daddy.

Hmm?

You're changing her life.

She deserves a fighting chance.

Just like the one I got.

Mm.

Hey.

_

_

And I didn't... listen to you.

Promise never to do it again?

Promise.

Okay.

That was your one pass.

Really?

Yes.

Because I know why you did it.

You're an artistic person.

You've spent your entire life creating.

And you don't have that outlet anymore.

But we can fix that.

I signed us up for
an introductory painting class.

Painting?

Perhaps we can find an outlet together.

Yeah.

Totally. I love that.

But can I get the supplies?
They're so expensive.

Oh, I already have oil paints.

A gift from my ex-boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend?

Mm.

He didn't listen to me either.

What, no fake injury?
I'm kind of disappointed.

My co-worker and I had a bet going.

I said tennis elbow,
he had you as a neck sprain.

I almost went with food poisoning,

but that was a big commitment.

Also might be a tougher segue from that

to asking if you're free for dinner.

Thought I scared you off.
With the baby talk.

No. Hey.

I'm sorry. It wasn't you
or what you said.

I had just gotten a phone call
from my ex-wife.

She's been talking about moving
to New Orleans with my son,

but she's pulled the trigger.

And the phone call was a
heads-up that she's serving me

the papers asking
for full custody of our son.

So, I was a little shook.

And when you mentioned a baby, I just...

Oh, Carter.

You could've just said that.

I'm not the greatest
at communicating sometimes.

Reason number 23
why I'm getting a divorce.

But look at you now.

Making adjustments
and being real about it.

I don't know you well,

but that sounds like growth to me.

Thanks.

And I'm sorry I bailed on you
last night.

Can I make it up to you?

Sure.

But I don't get off
for another two hours.

You're worth waiting for.

Bam. I'll take 20, domino.
That's game, baby.

Why can't I ever beat you?

Because I am the best.

I guess.

Wait, um...

What's this?

Oh. Your mystery box.

Go ahead. Open it.

This is mama's stuff.

This is the scarf she used to
wear all the time.

It doesn't have her scent anymore.

Letters she wrote me
when I was in prison.

They were my lifeline.

Daddy... why did you keep this hidden?
This stuff is beautiful.

I still feel guilty about missing
all those years with you two.

Oh, Daddy...

We had less than two years with
your mother after I got home.

I guess I locked all those memories

and my grief in that box.

Can I read one?

Mm-hmm.

"Hey, babe. I just wanted
to let you know

that your two favorite girls
are thinking of you.

We... We miss you more every day.

And there's already been 730 of them.

Yes, I'm counting.

Because each day I mark off the calendar

"is one day closer to you being home."

Daddy.

"Simone wiped some of the
frosting from her birthday cake

at the bottom of the page
so you would feel like

you were a part of the celebration.

I can't believe our baby's 10.

The party isn't the same without you,

"but your spirit is here with us."

"Keep your chin up

so your crown doesn't fall.

You're still our king."

Hmm.

"P.S. I could've really used you
as backup today.

Did you know she thinks she can
cuss now that she's 10?"

"I'll let you guess
which word she chose.

Love, Your Sweet Thing."

Aww!

I did think I was grown that day.

You thought that the moment
you came out of the womb.

Hey. What word did you say?

She never told me.

Unh-unh!

That word is being locked in this box,

and I'm gonna throw away the key.

Don't even think about it.

Oh, no.

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- www.addic7ed.com -