Original subtitles

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 voil�.

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.

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