All language subtitles for Unfrgt 01

I told you already,
I took the Hyzaar.

I take it again, I'm
gonna have to go.

I'm always going.

Okay, Mr. Wanamaker
says he already

took his meds
for the day.

What do you
think, Carrie?

Well, Mr. Wanamaker,
you took your Ependramine...

two pills, ten milligrams...
at 8:48

and three Prevacid 20's at 1:17,

which would make you due
for your Hyzaar right about now.

March 27, 1998.

Oh...
Come on, Carrie.

Do your thing.

I swear, I'll take
all my pills.

All right.

All right, all right, all right.

March 27, 1998 was

a Friday.

Sunrise was at 5:45...

5:46 a.m.

The Knicks
beat the Grizzlies

97-89 for their 40th win,

and most important of all
around here,

the FDA approved... Viagra.

(both laugh)

Fantastic.

I'll take my pills.

All right.

Hey, hey, hey.

Hey, I got it. Here.

(turns up volume)

Thank you, Miss.

Are you new here?

No, you and me go way back.

Oh, this is a good one.

This is where Ray has to go
on a cruise with Marie.

(chuckles)

You know, you're
good at this.

If you ever want
an actual job.

I have a job.

In fact, tonight I think I'm
gonna ask for a little raise.

(laughs):
Okay, good luck.

Luck?

Who said anything about luck?

♪ ♪

21. Winner.

Yeah.

(laughs)

Yeah.

Whew.

Norman would like
to talk to you.

Could Norman wait
for a minute?

'Cause I'm doing
really great here.

Sit down.

There's lowlifes
and lower lifes,

then there's card counters.

You're famous, lady.

Last month, you were
thrown out of the Bel Air,

the Mexicana
and the Atlantic Aladdin.

I don't really recall.

Give me my money back.

Give it back now,
and we're done.

Or better, we should
add some interest.

I know what interests me.

Okay, all right, I was at the
Aladdin a couple weeks ago.

You should know,
you were there.

Yeah, you were palling around
with that big bald guy,

scar on his left
cheek, no pinky?

Milosz? What the hell you
doing with Milosz, Isaac?

She's lying.
It wasn't me.

Sure it was.

You were wearing a leather
jacket... epaulets, brown,

- three buttons.
- The Varvatos?

I gave you
that jacket.

Norm, think about it...
why would I be with Milosz?

Maybe I can help you out
with that.

You were talking about Bayonne.

Something to do with
container tracks.

Trucks.
Container trucks.

You told that schmuck
about Bayonne?

Yeah, he did.

You shut up!

I never talked to the guy,
I swear!

Yeah, well, we'll see.

Go!

Oh, come on, sweetheart.

Put the big gun down.

You don't know how to use it.

Sit down.

♪ Hey, hey, hey ♪

♪ I love my life,
I love this record and ♪

♪ Mi amore vole fe yah ♪

Taxi!

♪ 'Cause God makes no mistakes ♪

♪ I'm on the right track... ♪

(music fades)

(man and woman laughing)

(seagulls squawking faintly)

(ocean waves sloshing)

(clattering in distance)

(gasps softly)

(man and woman
shouting in distance)

(crash, woman screams)

(footsteps running
downstairs)

Carrie?

(gasps)

Call 911.

Okay.

Sync and corrected by dr.jackson
for www.addic7ed.com

What do we got?

Name is
Catherine Grant,

early 30's, looks
to be a stabbing.

According to the
building manager,

she's been a tenant
three months,

paid her rent
pretty regular.

Just a "nice, quiet girl."
His words.

Mr. Lin on the third floor...
he's the one

who called you guys.

And this was at what time?

Uh, 3:15, I think...

Any witnesses?

- Nada.
- Uh...

Didn't really look at

the clock until, uh,
sometime after 3:30.

Roe is finishing
up with her now.

- A lot of help.
- Great.

Okay, thanks.

Okay, uh, front doors at
each entryway are locked,

but someone could've
buzzed in a stranger.

Might not be a stranger.

Let's run all the tenants.

Is that yesterday's suit?

So, I had a date.

It was going well.

Body's out back.

(camera clicks
in distance)

Weapon?

Uniforms doing an area.

Nothing so far.

No forced entry.

Handbag and wallet
were still up on the shelf.

About 80 bucks.

If he was after
something,

wasn't money.

Here, show you something.

Catherine Grant
on the lease, right?

And the supermarket card
says Catherine Isaacs.

Married name.

Yeah, what I thought, except

expired driver's license:
Gail Isaacs.

They lifted
a few prints,

mostly partials.

But better still,
got a cell phone.

Maybe find some
friends or family.

Friends and
family usually

end up on the fridge...
nothing there.

No knickknacks,

snapshots from the past,
phone numbers.

And her books
are all romance novels.

This was a lonely woman.

I got nothing on my fridge.

My point.
You should get out more.

Oh, come on.

He's gonna put his weapon back?

It's what's not here.

Most popular knife
there is,

chef's knife.

A weapon of
convenience.

Could mean he didn't

come to kill her.

Consistent with what I got.

Lady found the body says
it started as a fight,

he got her once upstairs,
she takes off,

he follows,
finishes her outside.

Gotta love CSI.

Everybody's an expert now.

She say how she came up

with this scenario?

You can ask her yourself.

C. Wells, 216.

What's her name?

Carrie Wells.

What'd she look like?

Mid-30's, red hair, pretty.

That's all?

She looked like a witness, Al.

I think I'll go talk to her.

All right.

I'm with you, boss.
I'm okay.

Oh, I, uh, thought

'cause I did the initial...

I'm okay.

(knocking)

You don't have
to break it down.

I heard you.

Nice to see you, too.

May I enter?

Well, that depends.

You have
probable cause?

What the hell
are you doing here?

Uh, I live here.

What are you
doing here?

Investigating a murder.

We look around, ask questions,
you remember how that works.

I mean, what are you
doing in New York?

Trying to move up
in the world.

You always were
driven, Al.

Look who's talking.

Oh, no, I gave
all that up.

Yeah, I can tell.

So, married?

Children?

- Girlfriend.
- Oh.

Not Linda Perini.

Who's Linda Perini?

EMT, five-six, annoying lisp,

that girl you always said
you were gonna leave me for.

You left me, by the way,
and that wasn't the reason.

That's right, it's because
I'm an obsessive cataloguer

of people's faults
who stores slights and injuries

like some kind
of freak bulldog

who will never let go unless
you forcibly break her grip.

Don't look at
me like that.

You said it.

I never said that.

August 14, 2002, 2:36 a.m.,

hot night, no rain,
there were crickets.

Okay, all right, I was angry,
I was frustrated, I was...

Insensitive.

And I'm too sensitive.

♪ Ta-da! ♪

The investigation
was over, Carrie.

It was over.
There were no leads,

no hope,
and it was destroying you.

You gave up.

I did what I thought
was right for us.

Well, we all know
how that turned out.

For us.

Great.

Great.

Now that we got that
out of the way...

Yep.

Can you help me here?

Catherine Grant, 316.

I was sleeping, I heard a fight.

He must've chased
her down the stairs.

I went outside,
checked her vitals,

made sure someone called it in.
That's all I got.

You heard the fight?

Yeah.

But I just heard
stuff being knocked around.

Nothing specific.

I'm sorry, wish I had more.

Okay.

Well, thanks for your help.

Call if you think
of anything.

Well, why else would I call?

Like I said,
nice to see you.

Hey, Al.

I, um...

I hope you get your guy.

She had lots of pay stubs
from, uh, temp agencies...

mostly secretarial stuff.

Queens, the Bronx,
some in the city.

You get the last place
she worked?

Not yet.

The coroner confirms

multiple stab wounds
to the chest and abdomen,

consistent with...
thank you, Al...

a six- to eight-inch
chef's knife,

unfortunately, still missing.

But the good news is

we got some hair
from under her fingernails.

Examiner's doing a DNA workup.

Anything from her phone?

Dumped the cell,
just waiting for the records.

Here's what's
bugging me.

Catherine Grant,
Catherine Isaacs,

whatever her name is...
it's like she's got no past.

Can't find an old address.
No journals,

no letters, no photos.

Not even a postcard from some
stupid vacation somewhere.

We got a hit
from Catherine's prints.

This time as Jennifer Goodwin.

Busted for prostitution

in 1995.

'95?

Wow, she must
have been a kid.

Just get me the last place
she temped.

I want to find someone
who knows this woman.

Maybe we already have.

Those unidentified latents
we found in her apartment...

one of the prints belongs
to the neighbor.

C. Wells, 216.

Mid-30s, red hair, pretty.

She says she barely
knew the vic, right?

What's she even doing
in the system?

Interesting question.

As it turns out, Carrie Wells'
prints track back

to a NYSID number from
the Syracuse PD,

1997 to 2002.

She was a cop.

Syracuse PD.

That's your old
haunt, Al, isn't it?

How'd it go last night?

Your luck?

Oh, yeah.
It kind of ran out.

(chuckles)

(echoing):
Rachel!

Rachel!

You okay, Carrie?

Yeah. Fine.

Speaking of fine.

The plan was I call you,
remember?

Yeah, well, I also remember
you don't call.

Why didn't you say
you knew Catherine Grant?

I didn't know her.
We were neighbors.

I saw her around,
I said hi.

How come your prints
were in her apartment?

I don't know.

I helped her carry in some
groceries a few weeks ago.

And you didn't
mention this because...?

Because A: it wasn't relevant,
and B: your kid never asked me.

That's sloppy, Detective.

You can't stop
being a cop.

Oh, I can,
and I did.

So you're a nurse now?

No. I volunteer.
It's nice.

My friends at Midvale aren't
exactly hung up on the past,

unlike me.

It's why you were
a good detective.

Nothing got by you.

Yeah, like the look
of that kid

who blew his own head off
with a 12-gauge

'cause his crackhead dad
forgot to lock it up.

Some things you
want to forget.

After nine years off
the force, I almost can.

And Rachel?

The idea that I could
maybe solve her murder

is how I survived the
kids and the shotguns.

And when you shut that
investigation down,

I couldn't do it anymore.

I just... I couldn't
do it anymore.

That's why I left
Syracuse.

That's why I can't
help you now.

Did I say anything
about helping?

You're gonna.

What, you read
minds now?

Oh, I can read yours.

All right, look, we got
nothing on this one.

No motive, no weapon,
no friends or family.

Not even sure
we got a name.

I'm not asking you
to help as a cop,

I'm asking you
to help as a witness.

I didn't see anything, Al.
I didn't see anything.

You don't know
what you saw.

You know what I mean.

Aren't we supposed
to hold hands or something?

If there's chanting,
I am so out.

♪ ♪

(door opening)

There's a shadow.

I didn't notice it before.

Where?

Someone was here.

He was hiding here.

Why didn't you run?

If it's a Derek Jeter
rookie card, it's mine.

She's got a great
memory, that's all.

So does my Aunt Jacquie.
She remembers every birthday.

But Aunt Jacquie wasn't
the youngest detective

in the history of the
Syracuse police department.

She worked homicide for you?

Highest clearance
rate in the department.

And so she remembers what,
like, facts and stuff?

Fact patterns, crime scenes,
witness testimony.

Once she's got 'em,
she's got 'em.

And she doesn't
forget anything?

She can't
forget anything.

It's a medical thing.

Hyperthymesia. Only five or six
people in the whole country have it.

Did you check upstairs?
How're you gonna bring her on?

I'll run her as a consultant,
just this one time.

All right, you want the
good news or the bad news?

Surprise me.

The bad news...
no prints on the knife.

Good news...
pay stubs came through.

We found her last
place of work.

MIKE: Early 30's. Would have
called herself Catherine Grant.

Yeah, I remember this one.

She temped here for a while when Lourdes
left to take care of her mother.

And when was this?

I don't know,
a few months ago.

My girl can give
you the dates.

Do you remember,
did she have any problems

with any of
the other employees?

Not that I know of.

The only reason
I remember her at all,

is she rented a van from
us for a couple days.

Did she say why
she wanted a van?

Yeah, actually, something about
moving out on a boyfriend.

She seemed
in a hurry.

- You got a sec?
- Sure.

Okay, I've been looking
at the crime scene photos

from Catherine's apartment.

Look at this.

The spacing is weird.

Frame, frame, nothing.

That's an empty hanging hook.

Something was there.
Something worth taking down.

You were in
her apartment.

Be nice to know
what it was.

You can put it there.

CARRIE:
Nice flowers.

I love flowers.

CATHERINE: You live
downstairs, right?

Yeah. Uh-huh.

CATHERINE: If I make
too much noise,

- just bang on the ceiling.
CARRIE: - That's okay.

CATHERINE:
No, do it.

Carrie, what's going on?
Can you see the wall?

I'm Catherine, by the way.

Carrie.

You're right.
There's a photo.

Catherine and another woman.
It's not recent.

What's the woman look like?

Dark hair.

About the same age.
They could almost be sisters.

They look happy.

Here.

Oh.
Thanks.

(clearing throat)

So I guess the question is
who is our mystery woman?

You okay?

Nike and Nina,
nice job.

No go on Catherine's
old boyfriend.

He was at his sister-in-law's
in Mamaroneck

night of the murder.

Says the sister-in-law.

Says his Easy Pass.

He took the Triborough
to the Bruckner, and up 95.

Back the next morning.

Wow. Guess you really can
take the boy out of Syracuse.

You know the only
thing I miss?

Those Maui burgers
at Eddie Coyne's.

- Right?
(laughing): - Yes.

Otherwise, wasn't
the same without you.

I had a friend in Queens North.

It's different down here.

I like the vibe.

What about you?
Why New York?

Why Queens?

Can still get a one-bedroom
for under $1,200.

(chuckles)

I don't know, I just...

Something about the energy
of this city.

It's good for me.

All the faces, all the lives...

even I can't track them.

You look good, Carrie.

You want something?

They got pecan pie.

No, I'm off sugar.

If I get some,
If you get some,

you'll have a bite?

I'll have a bite. Yeah.

AL:
You have a nice neck.

So I've been told.

Mm.

AL:
Did you know there's a nerve

right under the levator scapulae

that leads all the way down
to the pelvic floor?

You know, given
the circumstances,

that might be the dirtiest
thing I've ever heard.

You okay?

Yeah.

I got it with French vanilla.

So shoot me.

It's a huge piece of pie.

(phone ringing)
Mm-hmm.

(laughs)

Yeah, Mike,
where are you?

So, according to
Catherine Grant's phone records,

she made a lot of calls
to a disposable cell phone

over the past three months.

Now, these end abruptly,
two and a half weeks ago.

Then we have a bunch
of one-minute calls

to a Steven Latman,
a successful lawyer,

who, it so happens,
is about to get married.

They were having an affair.

That's what I'm thinking.

Disposable phone,
very discreet.

Latman decides to call it quits,

our girl goes
ballistic,

calls him repeatedly
at his home, and he ignores her.

Okay, but it's
a little light, no?

Does this add some weight?

One of the places
Catherine temped last year

was at City Sports Club,

where a Mr.
Steven Latman

is a member in good standing.

I appreciate you people
are just doing your job,

and I've always had
the deepest respect

for the Department,
in and out of court.

Queens Police,
great police, but...

this is about a phone call?

16 calls, actually.

All within a
48-hour period.

All under a
minute, all from

a very dead woman
named Catherine Grant.

Look around, guys.
I'm getting married.

I've got people coming in
and out of here all day long.

You think I can keep track
of who uses the phone?

I've got a
wedding planner,

decorator, her crew

and a caterer who
practically lives here

and, right now,
requires my attention.

- Yes, sir.
- Wendy.

Are you a member
of the City Sports Club?

Yes, for many years.

MIKE: Were you aware
that Catherine Grant

was an employee there?

No. Look, I'm really sorry
about this woman...

So you never met her?

Well, I may have met her.

I may have smiled at her.

Maybe she even got me a towel.

WOMAN:
Steve?

Now, if you'll forgive me...

I'd like to get him a towel.

The woman in the photo...

it's her.

No. Sorry.

So, to be clear,
you don't know her

as Catherine Grant
or Catherine Isaacs

or Jennifer Goodwin.

Ms. Wilson
already told you

she has no knowledge
of this person.

So there'd be no reason
for her to call your home,

which she did nearly
two dozen times.

None that I can think of.

Maybe to call your fiancé?

Steve says he
doesn't know her.

I trust him absolutely.

So there's
your answer.

NINA:
Ms. Wilson,

you took your high school
equivalency exam

on June 7, 1993,
at Mid-Manhattan

Adult Learning Center...
is that right?

Yes, but I don't understand what
that has to do with anything.

NINA:
That... that's funny,

because what I don't
understand is why

before June 7, 1993,
you don't seem to exist.

No school records, residences,
driver's license...

STURGIS: I think we're
almost done here.

These calls to and from
a disposable cell phone

from a Rite-Aid two blocks
from your office...

STURGIS: Midtown Manhattan,
work population two million.

Nice try.

You say you don't know
Catherine Grant...

you never heard
of Catherine Grant...

so what are you doing
in a photo with her?

What photo?

We have a photograph of your
client with the deceased.

Well, would you care
to produce this photo?

Of course.

You saw her, right?
She's the one?

Yep.

I really don't like
being lied to, to my face.

I want to know
where she was,

who she was
before Park Avenue,

and why her relationship
with Catherine

should be such
a damn secret.

I'll sweat her all day
if I have to.

With what?

With her nonexistent
past, for one thing.

Yeah, well, good luck with that,
'cause in case you

hadn't noticed,
he's about a second away

from shutting it
down in there.

I'm sorry if you don't
approve of my tactics.

What tactics? Bringing up
evidence you don't have?

She's sitting in there
lying to us.

If I have a shot at her,
I'm going to take it.

She's not lying to mess
with your investigation.

Her whole life is a lie.

Well, I'm sorry
if there's some

deep, dark trauma
in her past

that she, and apparently you,
are afraid of disturbing.

Okay... all I'm trying to
do, if you would listen,

is tell you what will
and what will not work

in a murder investigation.
That's it.

No, what you're doing
is you're bringing

your past, your pain
to the table,

and if you remember, that's
exactly what messes you up.

Go to hell.

(grunts)

That's all for now.

Thank you for coming in.

Aah!

Damn it.

(gasps)

(indistinct chatter)

Henry, right?

You ever find Wendy Wilson
in the system?

No luck.
We don't have her prints.

We do now.

Ms. Wilson... Carrie Wells.

You, uh... have
you got a minute?

My lawyer advised me not
to speak with the police.

I already told you,
I didn't know that woman.

I'm not the police,

and I'm not here to
talk about Catherine.

Actually...

actually, I'd like to
talk about Mallory Evans.

I have nothing to say
about Mallory Evans.

Well, that surprises me.

It does, because I...
I think she is a very...

impressive woman.

Born in Ohio.

Alcoholic mom.

Abused by her
stepfather.

Ran away to New York
as a teenager.

Fell in with
some bad people.

Did some bad things.

Even got herself
a police record.

Prostitution.

But she pulled
herself out of it.

Changed her name.

Got an education.

A career.

And now...

she is about to marry
a very successful lawyer,

who, I have to say,
looks really hot in Prada.

Sounds like quite a life.

It's a rare person
who can do what she did.

What you did.

Whatever.

Your friend Catherine,

she had a hard life,
too, didn't she?

My life was hard.

(voice breaking):
Hers was a disaster.

Her real name
was Olya.

From Minsk.

(chuckles)

Thought it was a joke
the first time I heard it.

She came here
when she was 15.

Some Russian guys
promised her a job.

They sold her to this family
out on the island.

She was a maid
for this guy and his wife.

Wife used to beat her up
when she dropped a dish.

And the guy...

well, the scumbag did
what scumbags do

to 15-year-old girls who don't
have anyone to protect them.

She got out eventually.

We were both working out
of this club in Woodmere.

They busted the whole place,
put us in a group together...

12-step thing.

I tried to help her,
you know,

get a job, get a place,
a decent man.

It worked out...
for a while.

It's okay.

And then?

She called me,
all excited.

Said she'd run into the guy.

What guy?

The old guy
from Long Island.

She was going
to blackmail him.

She's asking this guy
for more and more money.

And then she called me
at Steve's, and that was it.

I told her she
was on her own.

We said we'd always
be there for each other.

I just couldn't.

Wendy, what was the
name of the guy,

the one she was
blackmailing?

She wouldn't say his name.

All I know is she ran
into him at work.

When was this?

About three
or four months ago.

I don't know the name
of the place.

Oh, that's okay.

I do.

Just want to ask you
a few more questions.

No, I'm happy to help
in any way I can.

AL: We need to talk to
your older employees...

anyone over 50 or so.

That's the easiest
one I had all day.

Hey, Tony.

You got a sec?

TONY:
Something the matter?

So, no one else
in their 50s, 60s?

That sucks, huh?

Thought we had it.

Excuse me. It's Jill, right?

Yeah.

Whose office is this?

This is Ken's dad's.

He only comes in
on Wednesdays and Fridays.

- Well, today is Friday.
- Yeah, I know.

He called in yesterday,
said he was sick.

Really.

So you were
giving her money.

She figured
she earned it.

Suppose she did.

But I had to leave
something for my family.

Got it. Old man's
DNA matches the hair

under Catherine's
fingernails... four regions.

Yeah, I don't think
we need it.

Guy went down
when he heard

we had his fingerprints
in her apartment.

(over speaker): I went over
there to tell her, you know,

no more.

And then what happened?

(sighs)

She went crazy, said she was
gonna call the cops.

So I tried to calm her
down, you know, to hold her.

I still had
affection for her.

All of a sudden,
she goes for the phone,

and I-I grabbed
the knife.

I guess I went
a little crazy, too.

(crying softly)

Taking off?

Yep.

So, you were right...

about Wendy.

Admit it, you're
good at this.

You should come back.

No, I'm done.

Look, I didn't
tell you this before...

but ever since I found
Catherine lying there,

I've, uh...

been getting lost again.

The woods?

Yeah.

Only this time...

I'm seeing Rachel...

her body in the water.

I've been in those woods
a thousand times before

and I've never seen that.

I can't do this.

I've worked really hard

to get to a good place
in my life,

and I can't come back to this
if it means giving up

everything I've worked for.

When I met you,
everything was about Rachel.

But the one day
that really matters,

that might have the answer,
you could never remember.

And now you're starting to.

Don't you see?

You weren't ready
for it then, now you are.

And if there's
more to discover,

I can help.

If there's more to discover,
I'll handle it.

What, alone?

Sure,
it's worked for me before.

Bedpans and blackjack?

Trust me,
that's not "working."

Trust you?

Yeah.

You know...

I trusted you before,

and, um, you gave up.

I gotta go.

This way, Mr. Harbert.

(shoe sliding across floor)

(woman screams, thudding)

(couple laughing)

(laughter echoing)

♪ ♪

(laughter echoing)

(paper tears)

(no voice)

(phone rings)
Hey, it's Henry.

It's Carrie Wells.
What kind of DNA test

did the examiner run
on Frank Harbert?

Uh, you wanted it yesterday,

so they just did a quickie...
a Y chrome.

Okay, can you run
a full STR, PCR,

- whatever they got?
- Yeah, sure.

(phone buzzes)

(recorded):
Hey, it's Al. Leave a message.

(voicemail beeps)

Mr. Harbert?

Mr. Harbert?

Mr. Harbert?

(clattering)

What're you doing here?

Where is everybody?

Most of my employees
were pretty upset.

I gave 'em the night off.

Right.

It's a bunch
of crap, you know.

I grew up in that house.

Had a lot of nannies,

babysitters,
when I was young.

That woman wasn't
one of 'em!

Some nutjob trying
to make a buck.

Yeah, no, I-I think
you're right; I do.

It doesn't any make any sense
that your father confessed.

I don't understand.

Well, we did
a pretty basic DNA test.

Only problem is
close relatives,

then tend to
match out the same, you know?

Where were you that night, Ken?

I was at home, asleep.

You sure weren't at Bella's
Pizzeria on 35th Street,

off of 31st Avenue,
having a cup of coffee?

I want a lawyer.

Or you could take a DNA test.

I'm not taking any test.

What'd you want me to do?

She had him by the short hairs.

He's a sweet guy, he's not gonna
stand up for himself.

I told him to tell
her, "No more."

I knew he couldn't do it.

So you followed him.

I wanted
to make sure.

I was gonna go in with him,
but I didn't want him to see me.

So you waited in the pizza place
till he was gone,

and then you... murdered
Catherine Grant.

Stop calling her
Catherine Grant!

She was some Russian whore
that we took in,

and this is how she repays us?

I don't care what he did!

She should've
shut up and gone away!

Why didn't she shut up
and go away?!

(Ken groans)

(Ken grunting)

(both grunting)

(Carrie grunts)

You shouldn't have come alone.

(Carrie gasps)

She didn't.

(grunts)

Why the hell didn't
you wait for me?

Why the hell didn't
you answer your phone?

Had it on vibrate.

You know, given the
circumstances,

that might be the dirt...

dirtiest thing
you ever heard?

(panting)

Raymond'll be home
in a minute.

He's gonna be so mad.

Nurse, do you know if my
daughter's coming today?

She said she was.

Well, she said she couldn't
make it today, Alice,

but she will be here
tomorrow for sure.

She's a good girl,
my Rachel.

She never forgets me.

There you go.

Thank you, Miss.

What did you say
your name was?

Carrie.

You know, my younger daughter's
name is Carrie.

She's a police officer.

I know.

GINA:
Carrie...

your cute detective
left this with Janine.

Thank you.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

Rachel!

You okay?

Yeah.

Sync and corrected by dr.jackson
for www.addic7ed.com