All language subtitles for Instinct (2018) - 01x03 - Secrets and Lies.LOL.English.C.updated.Addic7ed.com

My name is Dylan Reinhart.

Not too long ago,

I was an operative in the CIA
known as Agent Reinhart.

When I left the Agency
and started teaching,

I became Professor Reinhart.

I wrote a book about abnormal behavior

and criminals, which was so successful

a serial killer used it
as clues for his murders.

That's when the
New York Police Department

reached out to me to help catch him.

Which I did, so they hired me,

and I became Consultant Reinhart.

So now I'm working with this woman,

Detective Lizzie Needham

of the homicide division,
catching killers.

Looks like I need a new name.

Don't they call you Professor Psychopath?

Don't overdo it today, Gary.

Pace yourself.

Surprise!

Whoa.

Bad time?

No. No, it's never a bad time

to see my little sister.

- Um...
- Hi!

- Hi!
- You look amazing, as usual.

What, is everything okay?

Everything's great. Why?

Well, I just... I, uh...

I haven't seen you since Christmas,

and you live in Boulder, and...

here you are in my house.

I have a job thing.

Okay.

So you're here looking for a job.

That's good. Great.

Really great news.

Well, are you taking off?

- There's a murder I need to get to.
- It's cool.

I'll just chill with Gary.
I know where everything is.

- Okay. Let me know if you need anything.
- Okay.

Photo, get a shot of that.

Hey, Doc. Good morning, Detective.

Uh, not so far. What have we got?

Those two lovebirds right here

were on their way to a romantic encounter

and literally tripped over the remains.

I'm guessing that killed the mood.

Our vic's a John Doe.

Unis searched the area for a weapon.

Nothing so far. You need
anything, let me know.

- Okay.
- Thanks.

I'm keeping the lookie-loos away.

He's just a kid.

Can't be older than 18 or 19.

Aw.

The hem on his pants is hand-stitched.

Probably done by his mother.

Makes it sadder somehow.

We'll run these
through facial recognition.

Key ring, no keys.

Maybe they were stolen.

Or maybe it's just a good-luck amulet.

Guess it didn't do much good.

Rigor's not far along. He's
been dead six hours max.

Single slice made
with a straight-edge blade,

possibly a hunting knife.

No hesitation marks.

Do you understand the level
of aggression it takes

to make that cut with one stroke?

And to throw away the body,
not even try to hide it...

just get rid of it like it's garbage...

demonstrates a flagrant
disregard for societal norms

and a chilling lack of empathy.

Whoever did this is a savage.

"Savage" means merely uncivilized.

This is the work of a sociopath,

a far more dangerous creature.

Caleb Troyer, 19.

Dixons Corners, New York.

- How far upstate is that?
- Two hours.

Uh, local sheriff said the family belongs

to a strict religious community.

Yeah, I have it here.

"The church espouses an ascetic life,

eschewing modern technology,
including phones and computers."

"Espouses" and "eschewing"
in one sentence

is just showing off.

So they're, like, Amish?

Kind of but not.

"Formal education ceases at 13."

Wow. Some religions reject Satan.

They reject high school.

I just spoke to him Saturday

on the pay phone at the post office.

Why did Caleb move to New York?

To find work.

He went with another boy
from the church, Seth Weber,

about six months ago.

But I just spoke

to his parents, and they said that Seth

told them that he and Caleb

hadn't been living together
for some time.

What did Caleb do in the city?

Construction.

He'd send us
a hundred dollars every week.

Alice.

You people from the government?

New York City Police, sir.

We're trying to find out
what happened to your son.

Do you know who Caleb
spent time with in New York?

We don't know much
about his life in the city.

Boy always kept secrets.

Well, a lot of teenagers do.

We got things to do.

Do you mind if we take
a look at Caleb's room?

No posters.

No electronics.

If I was a teenager, I might
want to get out of here, too.

Nice quilt, though.

Hand-stitched.

They just lost their son,

yet no warmth between them.

Must have taken a lot
of courage for Caleb

to defy such a domineering father

and move to New York.

I bet the mom was Caleb's ally.

Look.

Oh, those are the same feathers
that were on his key ring.

What are those?

- Popsicle sticks?
- He kept them.

In a lockbox.

They must have meant something to him.

Mrs. Troyer, do you know what these are?

I've never seen them before.

Mm-hmm.

That photograph of Caleb,

do you think it might be
possible that I could keep it?

Yes, of course. Here.

Thank you.

Caleb would've had
a rough go in my family.

We were always in each other's business.

He definitely had a private life.

I don't think he went to
New York to find work.

I think the move was... more personal.

Man, there's nothing personal.

Just like his room at home.

If 85% of the people born
into the community

stay within the church
their entire lives,

I wonder what happens to the other 15%.

You think it could be
someone from the church?

Well, the church defines its own rules,

and Caleb's father clearly
disapproved of his decisions.

Ooh. Blood.

Get a photo. We need CSU here.

Well, well, well.

Looks like Caleb was having a party.

One with lipstick, one without.

One joint with lipstick.

Hmm.

Hey! Stop!

Hiding in the closet?

Seriously?

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www.addic7ed.com

There's nothing going on, Officer.

Then why were you standing

in a closet?

That's why.

Who are you?

Seth Weber.

You're who Caleb moved down here with.

I live with my girlfriend now.

What would your church
think about the weed?

About you breaking into Caleb's room?

I didn't break in.

The door was unlocked.
And I didn't do this.

I got here right before you.
I came to get the money.

Caleb's loaning me $95 for rent.

He keeps his money in the sock drawer.

We don't trust banks where we're from.

The money's gone.

Caleb's dead, Seth.

He was killed.

Dead?

What...? How?

When was the last time you saw him?

Friday, when I asked to borrow...

You think I did it? Maybe he didn't

lend you the money. You and Caleb fought.

- No way.
- Maybe he was gonna

tell your parents about you smoking weed,

about you living in sin with your girl.

Caleb wouldn't do that. He was loyal.

Besides, he's the one who had secrets.

What kind of secrets?

I don't know, but he...

he used to disappear for hours
and never tell anyone

where he was going. Even back home,

there was times he'd tell
his folks he was at work

and I knew that wasn't true.

Who were Caleb's friends here?

Did he have a girlfriend?

I don't know. He...

I told him we were having a party.

He said the girl he was seeing
had a curfew

and the guard wouldn't
let her in after 10:00.

- The guard?
- I told you,

the dude had secrets.

Does this girl have a name?

Nicki.

Said he met her in the park.

Seth's alibi holds.

He was at his girlfriend's
cousin's place in Jersey

- when Caleb was killed.
- Uh-huh.

Caleb's dad has no record,

but since the church polices itself,

that doesn't mean anything.

They're not being very cooperative.

Blood on the drawer was Caleb's,

as was the DNA on one beer bottle.

DNA on the other bottle
and the joint belonged to...

Unknown female, presumably Nicki,

who lives somewhere with a guard.

College dorms don't have
a 10:00 p.m. curfew.

Rehab facility, halfway house, shelter?

We're gonna be knocking
on a lot of doors.

- What are you doing?
- One second.

32 black.

How much do you bet there are 56 white?

Okay, Rain Man. Why 56?

Because there are 88 keys on a piano.

- Piano?
- Well, a practice keyboard.

I had one when I was a kid. I think Caleb

kept these hidden because he was ashamed.

His church considers
music a gateway to sin.

And... the feathers are
from an eastern blue jay,

a songbird.

Keeping with the musical theme.

- Mm-hmm.
- Okay, so where does a kid like Caleb

- learn to play the piano?
- In every small town,

there's at least one piano teacher.

What was Caleb like?

Caleb was such a dear boy

and so talented.

After his third lesson, he could play

Bach's Concerto in D Minor by ear.

Mm-hmm.

So, Mrs. Porter, you were...

saying Caleb worked for your husband?

At his construction firm.

Caleb came by the house a few years ago

when I was with a student,

and he was fascinated.

And after she left,

I suggested he touch a few keys.

Well, he was shy at first, but...

the boy was a natural.

So you started giving him lessons?

I never charged him.

He was a true prodigy.

Was Caleb conflicted about his playing?

Oh, yes.

The church, his father.

He hated keeping the secret.

He'd be at our house for hours playing.

But he had such a gift.

He was so happy at the piano.

So, he went to New York to study piano?

And stayed to apply to Juilliard.

Juilliard tapes all the auditions.

Caleb sent me the link.

I sure appreciate you letting me
play for you today.

Mr. Troyer, you're very talented.

He is very talented.

Wait.

Do you know who that is?

Caleb said her name was Nicki.

Nicki Jones.

She stayed at our shelter for six weeks.

She just left a few days ago.

Do you know where she went,

why she left, anything about her family?

Kids come and go all the time.

I've never seen a teenager

on a landline before.

Our kids are runaways, throwaways.

They don't have cells, so I let them use

our phones to call home.

Did you ever see Nicki with Caleb?

No.

She was always with this
sullen-looking mouth breather.

I call them "Beauty and the Bro."

Does "Bro" have a name?

"Gene" is all I know.

He's not one of ours.

The last day she was
here, they were arguing

about this photographer, talent agent

or whatever he is.

He said he could get
her some modeling jobs.

He stole her bag or something.

He left some fliers.

Jimmy, it's me, Arvin.

Are you smelling that?

- What is that?
- Decomp.

You didn't notice this smell?

I got allergies.

Thank you.

Purplish discoloration,

early decomposition, dried blood

from his nose and mouth.

He's been dead at least 48 hours,

which puts him out of the
running for killing Caleb.

Single, deep cut to the throat.

Fixed straight-edge blade.

Our killer has a signature move.

Two bodies in 48 hours.

Are we dealing with a serial?

Serials generally have
a cooling-off period

between their hits, usually a few weeks,

and they rarely know their victims.

No, this is a spree killer.

Rageful, ruthless.

Unlike serial killers,
spree killers don't need

a cooling-off time between murders,

which means we're going to find
another body very soon.

Fucci and Harris are canvassing.

So far, nobody knows nothin'.

Could this be the bag
he stole from Nicki?

Hmm.

Yeah. Here's her shelter I.D.

Lipstick, some condoms.

Nicki's sister? Her best friend?

Hmm.

Oh. Looks like Nicki was an artist.

Oh, my God.

Wait, is that meant to be...

Caleb?

There wasn't a marsh in the park.

She signs her stuff "El Más Loco."

In Spanish, that means

"the craziest one."

But no, it's the male form of the word.

Maybe Gene was the artist.

And the killer?

To kill men this viciously,

you'd have to have power, strength.

Well, spree killings
are normally triggered

by an emotional upheaval.

Maybe Gene was controlling
his compulsions,

and then they exploded.

Why now? What makes him let go now?

The trigger can often be humiliation.

If Gene was in a relationship with Nicki,

and then he found out
she'd been with Caleb

and this photographer,

maybe that's what set him
over the edge, and...

he killed them both.

And made art from it?

Whoever did this was a
malignant narcissist.

He didn't want anyone else to
take credit for what he'd done.

He would brag about it if he knew
he wasn't going to get caught.

He could brag about it
anonymously on the Internet.

Finding El Más Loco's work

wasn't easy, but we traced messages

from him on anime sites
that linked to this Web site,

BloodAndGore.com, where he
posted his work from a laptop

using proxies to hide his IP address.

You think El Más Loco is this kid Gene?

Yeah. Gene was going
out with Nicki, who was also

with Caleb and the photographer.

And we found El Más Loco's
sketchbook in her bag...

no readable fingerprints.

Prints are tough to find on paper.

Then we found these two drawings.

They seem to be our victims
and were posted yesterday online

using a cell phone.

We track the cell, we find El Más Loco.

Oh, we got the number.

D.A.'s office is getting a subpoena

to I.D. who it's registered to.

Hopefully by end of day tomorrow.

This guy's killed twice in two days.

We could have another victim by then.

Let me see if I can speed things up.

As you can see, the, uh...
the foot traffic we generate's

actually better than your projections.

My proposal is to give you

a percentage of the profits
in lieu of rent.

That way, you get to participate

in our success. And, of course, you get

all the free drinks you want.

Yeah, you see, the thing is,
is that this corner is gold.

This place is always packed,
which is why I want

to put in my own restaurant,

you know, keep all the profits
and the free drinks.

- Are you kidding me?
- No...

Uh, in the past five years,
there have been

three different restaurants
in this space.

All of them have failed.

It's not the corner that's valuable.

And it's not the drinks or the food

or the theme or the fact
that he works harder

than everyone else
that makes Rafters so popular.

It's Andy. It's his ability
to make everyone

who walks through that door

feel like they belong here,
like this is home.

That's his gift. If you have that gift,

then knock yourself out,

because this is a risky business

and you have a sure thing right here.

I'll get back to you.

No. No.

This is a one-time-only offer.

We think it's more than fair.

You get a piece of our hard work,

with none of the risk.

So... you decide if
it's worth it for you.

You got 48 hours.

You'll have my answer.

Did I overplay our hand?
I slightly overplayed...

No, no, you were like a shark.

You were scrappy and cutthroat and sexy.

If he's too dumb

to take a great deal,
then we will find another corner

and you will work your magic there.

What time's the cage fight?

Undercard at 6:00,
and then the main event.

You should come. There are still tickets.

I'm good.

Well, no, I'm not good.

No.

Caleb.

You see yourself in him.

I was lucky to have a mother
who understood me,

and not to cross paths with a murderer.

_

I have to go.

Enjoy.

Thanks. Sorry for the mess.

Okay.

Thanks for nothing!

Loser!

Sorry for the excitement, guys.

- This is my sister. She's just visiting.
- Listen.

I know that I threw up in his cab, but...

he wasn't gonna let me go
until I gave him money,

and that is basically kidnapping.

- I'm fine.
- Of course you are.

I'm gonna pay you back.

That's okay.

You know what I was thinking?

I could be a cop.

Because I like helping people,

and I'm a closet excitement junkie.

Yeah, I think that runs in the family.

_

- Hey.
- Hey.

How was the MMA? Nice cage fight?

Uh, I suppose, yeah.

Jasmine had the subpoena fast-tracked.

Turned out the phone
belonged to the photographer.

Gene must have stolen it
from him when he killed him.

TARU triangulated the signal
and traced it

here... the home of Dr. and Mrs. Higgins.

Gene's parents. Oh, and guess what.

Turns out Gene has an open
warrant for possession.

Look. Nicki.

Get her. I'll look out for him. Go.

Nicki Jones? NYPD.

Gene Higgins?

NYPD.

Stop!

What's this?

Now talk to me.

Screw you, bitch. I'm not saying a word.

I'll call my parents' lawyer.

- You'll be the one having to talk.
- Shut up, Gene.

I hope your daddy's lawyer
is smarter than you are.

- I tossed him.
- Yes, ma'am.

Do your parents know you're in New York?

I'm not sure.

You don't want to get them involved.

I understand, but you have
to explain yourself, Nicki.

My name isn't Nicki.

I don't know what it is.

I can't remember who I
am or where I'm from.

Please help me.

I can't remember anything.

This is Dr. Chandler.

She's a psychiatrist.

We'll be assessing your condition.

This was in your backpack.

Do you recognize her?

No.

The farthest back you remember
is six weeks ago,

finding yourself in Times Square?

I didn't have any money or I.D.

I didn't know where I came from.

I-I'm hearing a slight coastal
New England accent.

Is it possible you're from Boston?

Or, uh, Rhode Island? Maine?

Did you go to the police?

I met Gene.

He took me to the shelter,
and he said I'd be safe there.

Things were good.

Till I met that creepy photographer

a couple weeks ago.

And what happened with him?

He said he'd pay me to model.

When I went there,

he tried to...

I got away, but I left my bag.

Hold on. Did Gene
confront the photographer

after he tried to...?

I don't know. But he said I wouldn't

have to worry about him anymore.

Then I saw his drawing.

The one of the photographer

with his throat sliced
that he put online?

Yeah.

And then you met Caleb in the park?

He took me to dinner, and...

I went back to his room.

I saw him a few more times after, but...

Gene caught us and, like, lost it.

Tried to hit me.

Caleb stopped him. I ran away.

Later, Gene said, if I ever
try to leave him again,

he'll kill me.

Did he tell you that Caleb was dead?

I saw the drawing.

How did you feel when you
realized Caleb had been murdered?

I kept thinking it could have been me.

Hey. Can you give these to Lizzie for me?

- I'm kind of in a hurry.
- Oh.

MMA tickets.

She went last night.

I messed that up.

Big surprise.

Those are sort of a thank-you.

Or an apology.

You know how it is with sisters.

Actually, I don't.

When you have a big sister,
especially one like Lizzie,

it's kind of like having an extra mom.

You know, she was always
looking out for me as a kid.

Kept me out of trouble.

You should give her these yourself.

I don't really need to see

how I let her down again.

Forensics says nothing puts Gene
at either crime scene.

No blood, no fingerprints,
no fibers, not even a hair.

He had hands on these guys.

There has to be some trace of him.

Am I missing something?
Does this seem right to you?

None of it seems right to me.

His priors are for possession...
nothing violent.

All we have on him is what Nicki gave us.

Oh, your, um, sister bought these.

As an apology or a thank-you.
I couldn't quite tell.

Oh, then I guess we're all good.

She knows she upset you.

Of course.

That's Katie's way.

She decides what's real.

So does Nicki.

What?

All we have is what she gave us.

She's creating the narrative.

What if Nicki is our killer?

She controlled the victims somehow.

She had no empathy for that boy.

I think she's the malignant
narcissist, not Gene.

I think she's a sociopath.

Okay. What's her motive?

She says the photographer
tried to rape her,

but why kill Caleb?

I don't know.

Hmm. That's a first.

I'm only saying that to motivate

my unconscious to work faster.

Narcissists need to show off.

Well, in that case, having to keep

these two murders a secret
must be driving her crazy.

Yes. Good. She must be dying

to let us know how clever
she is, to get our praise.

So let's give it to her,
then take it away.

Make her angry
and see how careless she gets.

Huh.

I guess I did know after all.

My lawyer said, since I have amnesia,

they'll wipe out the charges
against me if I testify.

You know, I didn't like that lady doctor,

the way she looked at me all judgy.

But I could tell we clicked.

You'll be asked to explain

why your DNA is all over both victims.

That creepy photographer was all over me.

And I slept with Caleb.

In the park, where he was killed?

Yeah, under the stars.

It was actually very sweet.

Until Gene showed up.

You have an answer for everything.

So, Nicki, did Gene ever tell you

that he killed Jim or Caleb?

He never did.

Did you see anything
that might implicate him?

Bloody clothes, shoes, the knife?

We know the knife
was cleaned with bleach.

Did you maybe see him buy the bleach?

I need you to dig deep, really think.

There's, like... nothing.

Thing is, Nicki...

there's no evidence that Gene
was at either crime scene.

And these are
fingers-in-the-flesh murders.

It's very difficult not
to leave something behind.

It's as if a ghost
committed the perfect crime.

Twice.

Guess you guys will just have

to look harder to prove Gene did it.

But no matter how hard we look,

you and I both know
that we won't find anything

because Gene was never there.

The only person
who was at both crime scenes...

is you.

Is this the part where you
ask me if I killed them?

I guess it is. Yeah.

Why would you even think that?

Because you don't understand empathy.

It's not your fault.

You can mimic it.

You can recognize it in others.

But...

you never fully comprehend it.

That's your proof?

I have no proof.

Because there isn't any.

Not yet.

Everyone makes a mistake.

It's just a matter of time.

So you think the amnesia

is a crock... she's acting?

I do.

Why choose amnesia?

It doesn't insulate her from the murders.

It only hides her past,

which seems clean.

She's not in the system.

She may not have been
our problem up till now,

but she was somebody's.

You don't just start with murder.

Not a murder this well-planned,
this violent, this intimate.

You work up to it.

She's a sociopath, a predator,

and she's hunting men.

There's something in her past.

Yeah, but her story rings true.
It's not neat.

Like, she didn't say that she
saw Gene kill these guys

or even that he told her he did.

She's a narcissist. Why would she

let someone else get credit for it?

- To exonerate herself.
- Oh, you should've seen her.

She is thrilled we know she did it.

So prove it.

Get me something I can use.

A witness, a videotape.

Better still, a confession.

She really doesn't look like the type.

That's the thing about people.

They always surprise you.

I have to say something to you.

I'm not sure why you
missed the cage fight,

but I know it has something
to do with Katie.

Yeah, she got drunk and puked in a cab.

I had to help her.

- How?
- I paid for it.

We do things for family.

I've been cleaning up after her forever.

It's so predictable.

Maybe your perspective's
a little predictable, too.

- What?
- When Katie handed me

those MMA tickets, it was

because she couldn't face you.

Avoidance is one of her specialties.

Yeah, well, it must run in the family.

If you keep rescuing someone
all the time,

you're denying them the opportunity

to learn from their own mistakes,

- to grow up.
- Is there a polite way of saying

"mind your own business"?

Yes.

"Please shut up."

- Please shut up.
- No, I will not.

You owe it to her and yourself
to change the dynamic.

Stop enabling her.

Hey. Do you have any
good Mexican around here?

Villa del Sol.

Villa del Sol.

What's wrong?

I have to stop.

Stop?

Yeah.

And you have to stop, too.

Stop what?

The drinking.

And my letting it happen.

No more stepping in
to make things go away.

I did it with Mom.

I'm not gonna do it with you.
Not anymore.

You have to take responsibility.

It is so perfect that you are a cop,

because you get to tell
everybody what they do wrong

and make everybody else
feel like a failure.

- I don't do that.
- Really?

You can't drink if you want to stay here.

Well, it's not quite the, uh,
date night out I was hoping for,

but I'll take it.

I'm sorry.

We're short-staffed.

I made the hostess a waitress,

the dishwasher a busboy.

Which means I'll be washing dishes.

Living the dream.

You know my favorite part of the day?

It's when you come home.

You're exhausted, but you're happy.

When you were a lawyer,
you were never happy.

Now, I know the last few
weeks have been difficult.

And, of course, there was the
landlord's little surprise.

But... this is not a sign.

Well, sign or no sign, we could lose

our life savings on a gamble

just because I always
wanted to own a bar.

I do not consider this
bar or you a gamble.

You're the best investment I ever made.

Hi. I'm waitress, and I'll be
your Candice tonight.

- Oh. I mean...
- That's all right, Candice.

Uh, Candice has never
waited tables before.

What?

Very different from
showing people to the tables.

Is that a Philadelphia accent I hear?

Really? I've been trying
to get rid of it.

There's not too many roles
for Philly girls out there.

I'm hearing a slight
coastal New England accent.

Could you be from Boston?

Rhode Island? Maine?

They don't have cells,

so I let them use
our phones to call home.

She may not have been our problem

up till now, but she was somebody's.

You don't just start with savage murder.

You work up to it.

Lizzie?

We need to find Nicki's first victim.

And I know how.

Based on Nicki's accent, we narrowed

her home down to New England.

The kids in the shelter use
the landline, so we went

- through all the calls to New England.
- We found three calls

to a boarding school
in Newport, Rhode Island.

The headmaster I.D.'d Nicki's photo.

Real name: Amber Burnett.

The girl in the wheelchair,
who was Nicki's roommate,

is still there.

We called the Newport PD.

There's a reason she hid her past.

It wasn't her first murder.

People have always been jealous of Nicki.

Ella, we need to talk to you
about something serious.

Is it Brendan?

Please tell us what you know.

He's a townie. He was Nicki's boyfriend,

but he kind of disappeared.

She told the cops
that she didn't know anything,

but they don't believe her.
That's why she ran away.

What do you think, Ella?

She really liked him.

It doesn't make sense that she could...

Ella, the Newport Police

have found Brendan's body.

His throat was cut.

That's the same way

two men in New York
were killed last week.

A photographer and a young man

- Brendan's age, your age.
- Oh, my God.

Ella, I know this is moving
very, very fast, but...

we think Nicki killed Brendan
and these two men.

Will you help us?

Ella's a lonely kid.

Along comes Nicki... beautiful, exciting,

pays her attention...
and soon Ella's devoted.

That I get, but given who Nicki is,

why befriend Ella?

Ella's her plaything.

Sociopaths will continue a relationship

as long as they get something from it.

Huh. Never a bad idea
to have a loyal acolyte

who will lie for you.

And tell you what the police are asking

once you've fled to New York.

Showtime.

Okay, Ella, just like we said.

I'm scared.

She's gonna hate me.

She's sick.

Remember?

You're helping her.

Hey, Nut.

Do I know you?

Amber, it's me, Elle's Bells.

Amber.

Is that my name?

I'm your roommate. I'm your best friend.

Your hair looks awesome.

I didn't know it was
gonna be that blonde.

Great, Ella.

Now get into it.

So... the cops found Brendan
by the marsh.

Right where you guys
used to always meet up.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Don't worry. I told them that you didn't

leave the room after dinner.

And they found some footprints.

They asked me what kind
of sneakers you had.

Keep the story going, but tell her

you want to go to the restroom.

I told them that you only wear flats.

Oh, and check this out.

Actually, first, can we
go to the restroom?

If you can't remember Ella,

how do you know she uses a wheelchair?

Guess I made a mistake.

Took you a while, though.

Thought I was home free
till I saw Elle's Bells.

She's a pathetic loser.

Let's go, Amber.

Come on.

Why?

Why did you kill them?

Why not?

They didn't give a damn about me.

The photographer said
he'd get me modeling jobs.

And then the bastard stole my bag.

Did Gene know anything?

He's a moron.
I'd just tell him what to draw.

And Caleb?

We went to his room
to get money for dinner.

That hick had like $400 in his drawer.

None of them fought back?

We'd get busy. Know what I'm saying?

And then after, they'd be lying there,

eyes closed, big smile on their face,

and I'd just...

We found this in Caleb's apartment.

It's addressed to you.

He wants our blessing to study piano.

We thought you might like to have this.

We can't accept it.

Oh, God would understand.

Oh...

That's my son.

- Hi.
- Hey.

48 hours is up.

He's already taking
advantage of the free booze.

We have a new silent partner?

Oh, I think he's going to be
anything but silent.

To following your dreams.

To relying on each other.

Mmm.

I'm actually here with Lizzie.

We're having dinner
to celebrate closing the case.

Yeah, I don't think she got the memo

about the "celebrate" part.

Hey.

So, I stopped by my house.

Katie's gone.

She packed her things. No note.

Our mom was an alcoholic.

I spent high school trying to stop her

from drinking herself to death
while I was looking after Katie.

Now Katie's...

I'm losing her, too.

You were right to set boundaries.

I don't know how to help.

I haven't known you
for long, but one thing

I know for sure is that you
know how to help people.

You've even helped me.

Even you?

Mm-hmm.

Hi. Sorry.

Oh, hi. I'm just... I was just...

Do you want to...? Why don't you...?

Thank you.

That's my ten-month sobriety chip.

You never... I had no idea that
you were going to meetings.

I made it to ten months and 14 days.

Wow.

And then two weeks ago, I got fired.

And the next day, Trip dumped me...

...for his mother's oncologist.

The woman who cured his mother's cancer

and bought him a BMW.

Wow, some men are so easily swayed.

I know.

I fell off the wagon.

Really hard.

I was scared.

I just needed to see you.

Katie, I'm sorry.

I didn't know how to help. I...

You did. You did help.

I needed a kick in the butt.
That's what I came for.

That's-that's what I needed.

I mean, I was spinning out, man.

I mean, I...

I went back this morning, and...

when I go back to Boulder,
I'm gonna keep going.

I want to start over.

You make me want to be a better person.

You always have.

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