Original subtitles

Since 1970, the federal witness protection program

has relocated thousands of witnesses,

some criminal, some not,

to neighborhoods all across the country.

Every one of those individuals

shares a unique attribute,

distinguishing them from the rest of the general population,

and that is, somebody wants them dead.

Leguame, you worry too much.

Fine. Just bring the stones, and we'll take care of business.

Lord.

I can't believe you're defiling our honeymoon

with this nasty business.

Sweetheart, this nasty business

is what keeps you in this lifestyle.

I don't care about that.

I don't care if we have to live in a tent.

I only care about you.

Baby, I'm sorry.

Now, this meeting will just take a few minutes.

Treena, sweetie, come on now. No, no, David.

It's--it's immoral and it's dangerous, and if--

if anything ever happened to you--

David, you've got to promise me this will be it.

Please promise me this is the last one of these deals

you'll ever make.

All right.

I promise.

Thank you.

I love you so much.

Beautiful, leguame.

Of course.

Sweetheart,

would you put these in the safe, please?

Yes, darling.

Then I'm headed down to the pool.

Come find me when you're done?

Sure.

Nice meeting you, gentlemen.

The pleasure was ours.

It's all right.

I trust her.

Obviously.

With your life.

Gracias.

Tress Stevenson.

Aka Trudy wainright.

Aka Tenley bishop.

Aka Toni denard.

Aka Teri Ranzino.

Lord.

Special agent Bob Carlton, FBI.

You're under arrest for fraud,

grand theft, and five counts of bigamy.

Lady, you have no idea

how long I've been trying to nail you.

I get that a lot.

Agent Carlton,

if I told you where to find

$20 million worth of illegal conflict diamonds

along with the men conspiring to sell them,

you think we might be able to work out some deal?

Oh, Bob, what are you doing?

What's he doing here?

Apparently he got special permission

to escort his witness.

Permission? Permission from whom?

And why would he do that?

FBI agents

aren't even supposed to know their witness's location.

You want I should draw you a picture?

Oh, no. God, I hate con artists

even more than murderers.

Well, if it isn't

two of the laziest marshals west of the pecos.

Hi, Bob. Robert.

Mary, this is treena Morris.

Aka tress Stevenson.

Hi. Nice to meet you.

Miss Morris, this memorandum of understanding

constitutes the entire agreement

between you and the U.S. marshal service.

It lays out our obligations to you

and your requirements to maintain status

as a protected witness.

Any questions before we begin?

I was actually--

good. Let's get started.

You may not contact anyone from your past.

That means friends, family members, no one.

Oh, well, that one shouldn't be a problem.

Now then, I want you to understand something.

This program is an opportunity very few people get.

A shot at a fresh start, a do-over

on your entire life, but it only works

if you make the decision to be a better human being

than you've been, and allow the possibility

of something greater for yourself.

And as impossible as it may seem,

I've seen even bigger scumbags than you

do just that and make it stick.

Well, I appreciate that.

Your husband swore under oath

you stole $10 million worth of raw diamonds.

If that's true, now would be a good time to turn those over.

Sugar, even if I had the alleged diamonds,

what exactly would be the upside

of me handing them over to you?

Well, aside from the fact that there's people out there

who want to kill you over those diamonds,

the upside would be starting out with a clean slate.

Trust me, you hang on to garbage from your past,

sooner or later, it'll start to stink...

Sugar.

You're actually very pretty.

How do you think I'd look as a blonde?

Shouldn't you be getting back to Dallas, Bob?

Nina and the boys must miss you, don't you think?

Well, I guess I'll check on you in a couple of weeks.

Uh-huh. Bye, Bob.

Bye, Mary. Stan.

I give it six months, tops.

Give what six months?

Before you screw up and I send you off to prison.

Says here your boyfriend's hitting streak

has the attention of several major league teams

and his ascension to the bigs is imminent.

Good for him.

What?

I'm happy for him.

Really.

Obviously.

And he's not my boyfriend.

What you looking at, squish?

What?

Nothing. I'm reading. Mind your own business.

You know, if you're gonna use a magazine as a prop,

you might want to pick one a little more believable.

Uh, what, you think I have no interest in financials?

Finances.

Investing?

What's that article about?

It's about the pros and cons of tax-free annuities

as part of a long-term investment strategy, smart ass.

And don't ask me

what a tax-free annuity is

because I haven't gotten to that part yet.

Does it say anything in there about getting a job

as part of a long-term investment strategy?

Now you're just being mean.

Oh, for god sakes.

Hey, these are my mambo pants.

What?

Did I not tell you I'm taking mambo lessons?

I'm pretty sure that would have registered.

All right, let's go.

I've got to get my car into the shop by 9:00

if I'm gonna make my massage.

Why do you just keep throwing good money after bad

into that piece of junk?

Well, because like my family,

I love it a little more than I want it dead.

Can we go, please?

Fine. You know how Marshall lives to schlep.

Wait.

What?

Keep your hands off my sudoku.

Look. That's my witness, treena.

Very attractive.

Hey, did you forget to tell her the part

about no pictures in the newspaper,

'cause it's kind of a big WITSEC no-no.

I'm just saying.

Treena, it's Mary.

Mary Shepherd.

U.S. marshal Mary Shepherd.

Oh, that Mary Shepherd.

Yes, I did see your wedding announcement.

Yeah, beautiful photo.

Hey, where are you right now?

What's the address?

Stay there. I'm coming over.

Curious.

Can someone do me?

I will. I will.

The reason I despise con artists

more than any of the other garden variety miscreants

I see on a daily basis is because robbing people

of their worldly possessions isn't enough for them.

They don't just leave their victims destitute.

They leave them feeling foolish, betrayed.

Sweetie, if it were up to you,

I'd walk down the aisle in a g-string and pasties.

No. No, no, no, no. No pasties.

Lord, my son is such a pig.

Oh, don't say that.

He's not--well, he is a pig, but he's my pig. Mmm!

Mostly I hate con artists

because they break their victims' hearts.

Mary! Sweetie!

It's so good to see you!

Cut the sweetie crap. We need to talk. Alone.

Aren't you sweet?

Everyone, this is Mary,

my best friend from college and maid of honor.

I was just telling everyone

all about you.

Well, not everything.

I still want them to like you. Treena.

Let me introduce you.

This porcine stud is my fiance Mark.

Hi. It's great to finally meet you.

And you.

And this elderly woman

is my future mother-in-law Deandra,

the wealthiest drunk in new Mexico.

Uh, hi. Welcome to my home, Mary.

And please call me Dee.

Only my son's whores

are required to call me Deandra.

Oh, good one.

Thanks, Dee.

Mary, would you like

something to drink?

A bloody Mary?

Beer? How about a bloody beer?

No, nothing for me. I have to get back to work.

Could I talk to you for a minute, please?

What do you do for work, Mary?

She's a U.S. marshal. How hot is that?

A marshal. How interesting.

Ha. A word, please?

Nice to meet all of you.

Easy, darlin'. I bruise.

What the hell is wrong with you?

What? Didn't you like 'em?

Knock it off. You know the script.

We're casual acquaintances,

someone you met when we first came to town.

You don't make up b.S. Stories

about our history for your amusement.

Come on, I was just having some fun. They don't care.

You're right, treena.

You should go back inside

and enjoy the rest of your last day in Albuquerque.

Wait. Why?

For one, you violated your security

by allowing your picture to appear in the newspaper.

There wasn't anything I could do about it.

Besides, this is Albuquerque.

Good lord, I wrote papers in high school

that had a higher circulation.

Funny.

Two, you violated my security, I.D.'ing me as a marshal.

Well, I hate to be the bearer.

Don't screw with me, treena.

People's lives, including yours,

depend on me staying anonymous.

And three, there's no way in hell

I'll allow you to ruin another man's life.

Not on my watch.

I'm not. I love Mark. I really do. Really?

As much as you loved your last five husbands?

This is different, I swear.

Sorry, treena, I'm afraid you don't have much cred with me.

This time tomorrow, you're either on a plane

to a new location or you're out of the program.

End of discussion.

Hey, raf, nice write-up in the paper, huh?

Yeah, how about that?

How does it feel to have a famous boyfriend?

When I get a boyfriend, I'll let you know.

Raf. Raf.

Raf, you still there?

Listen, I actually did get called up to the marlins today.

I leave for Florida in a few days.

Really?

A few days? That's great.

Congratulations.

Yep.

So why don't you come over tonight

to, you know, celebrate?

Sure, of course, yeah.

I'll swing by after work.

Sounds good.

Bye. Bye.

Hey, where's Stan?

Hey, Stan? Hey, Mary.

Listen, about treena Morris. Stan, look, I want to talk to you about treena Morris.

We can't kick her out of the program. I want her out of the program.

What? What?

How'd you know about treena? I just got off the phone with major Carlton.

She called Bob Carlton?

What? What? Oh, you heard me.

Excellent.

Now tell me again, which one of you is costello?

What--what do you think you're doing?

It's called the mambo, Stan. I started taking lessons.

Well, anyway, your witness threatened to go

to Bob Carlton's wife if we do anything

to upset her impending nuptials.

So let her go to Bob's wife.

I'll go to her too and tell her treena's a lying sociopath.

Who do you think she's gonna believe?

Normally I'd say you, but treena's got video.

Apparently it's some very, very artsy camerawork.

What--what-- what are you doing?

Stop that. Stop that right now.

Man, why you gotta harsh my mellow?

You're a U.S. marshal, for god's sake.

So?

So the peacock struts.

If you're gonna dance, then by god, dance.

That's it, come on. Uh-huh.

That's good.

* dah-dah-dah

5, 6, 7, 8...

Hey.

Hey. Mmm.

Congratulations.

So you got called up. Yep.

God, you must be jazzed.

Hmm.

I know I'm jazzed.

Come on in. Let's sit down.

What's with the glum? Did the deal fall through?

No. Nothing like that. Well, then cut it out.

Come on, this is a happy moment.

I'm not gonna let you screw it up. Quit moping.

Let's make the most of the time we have left.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

This isn't how I want it to go.

Oh, okay. You want to be on top?

You want to incorporate that?

Just take a bite.

It's delicious,

from this new fancy cupcake place.

Have you been drinking?

Come on, try it.

I don't want that. I want this.

No, no, no, no, no. First this, then this.

Oh, for god's sakes. Okay.

There. Now, come on.

Wait, wait, no.

Take--take another bite.

Rafael, I don't want the damn cupcake.

What are you doing?

Marry me.

Rafael, that's not funny.

It's not a joke.

Marry me.

My god.

Marry me.

Shut up and put that away.

Marry me. No.

Stop saying that.

Mary, will you please marry me?

No. God damn it, raf!

You don't just get married just--just--just

because someone gets called up to the major leagues.

What the hell's wrong with you?

Jeez!

Happily ever after-- the big lie.

Those three insidious words repeated again and again,

promising myself and a gazillion other little girls

that someday, sure as the sunset,

a man prettier than ourselves would sweep us away

to live our lives forever and a day,

blah blah blah,

never once mentioning the years of quiet desperation

that surely followed,

which is why I pray with all my soul

that whomever invented the lethal mantra,

"happily ever after,"

died penniless, facedown

in the gutter with cats gnawing on his ears.

Please, you must stand up straight.

Is wedding, not funeral.

Yeah, we'll see.

Hey, raf, it's me again.

I wish you'd call me back.

Okay.

Bye.

What? I don't know who that is.

Hey!

Mary! Where are you--

U.S. marshal! Stop!

Mother...

Oh, my god, what happened?

Come with me.

Ouch! Easy.

Who was that, treena?

I have no idea.

Men take pictures of me all the time.

It's a cross I bear. Listen to me.

As much as personally I couldn't care less what happens to you,

professionally, you're my responsibility,

and that is something I take very seriously.

Now tell me straight-- is there anybody in Albuquerque

you've swindled, robbed, or conned in the last six months?

No. Have you made contact with anybody from your past?

No.

Then I have to assume that man has something to do

with the people whose diamonds you stole.

I didn't steal any diamonds.

For Pete's sake.

I'm about to marry one of the richest men in new Mexico.

Why on earth would I keep a bag of illegal diamonds?

I don't know.

Maybe because you're a soul-sucking waste of oxygen

with no regard for anybody but yourself.

Now get ready.

I'm taking you back to your mother-in-law's fortress

until I can figure out who that was.

Where are my mother-humping clothes?

You are dangerously close

to being kicked out of the wedding party.

Man, I'd like five minutes alone

with the idiot that invented crinoline.

Actually, crinoline wasn't an invention

so much as it was a discovery.

Jesus, shut your hole.

And once again, the incurious mind

rears its blissed-out head.

Did you come up with anything on the photographer?

Not yet. Maybe he was just a guy taking pictures.

Yeah, so why'd he run? And then try to run me over?

Probably just a reaction to you in that dress.

So I, uh,

understand we have a paparazzi problem?

Maybe. Probably.

Well, where did you stash her?

The mother-in-law's.

She refused to go anywhere else.

The good news is,

the place is like a fortress,

and I doubled up on the security detail.

And the bad news is, there are about 1,000 silver saturns

in the greater Albuquerque area

registered to middle-aged white males.

Man, how the hell

are we supposed to process that many leads?

Maybe we can get some help from downstairs, huh?

I've already polled every available body for tonight.

Uh, so, Inspectors,

carry on.

Yeah.

What just happened?

I don't know.

Yeah.

Hey, you got a minute?

Not really. What do you think about this?

Okay, what about--

uh-uh.

So, um, I just wanted to talk to you

about my situation.

Chuck and I are sort of going through a thing right now

and, um, well, first of all, I want to thank you

for letting me hang out here the past few weeks.

And second of all, you want to know

if you can hang out a little longer?

Well, yeah, that.

But also, I was wondering if you could help me.

Um, it's just that your life is so together,

and I feel like you might be good at helping me

get my life going in a new direction, maybe.

Look, I gotta find something to wear and get out of here,

but let me think about it, and we can talk tomorrow

or the next day, okay?

Okay. Thanks.

Oh, god, what do you wear to these things?

What things?

You know, some froufrou slut fest.

Well, what kind of slut fest? Regular slut, fancy slut,

euro trash slut? Never mind.

You leave everything to me, grasshopper.

Jesus, you look hot.

I look like a whore.

Yeah.

Psst! Hey!

What are you doing here?

Just keeping an eye

on the door till the other marshals get--

holy jeez.

My god.

Okay, fine. Get it all out.

What? You look nice.

Uh-huh. You got anything new to report?

Um, not much.

Treena's ex is still safely ensconced in leavenworth.

Interpol and the FBI think the African

and his pal are lying low and could

be on the Ivory Coast,

but they can't say for sure.

Translation--

the guys who most want to get their hands on treena

are nowhere to be found?

Exactly. Terrific.

So I'll be out here and you...

What are you doing?

What? Nothing.

I'm doing my job, keeping an eye on things.

Look at me.

What? No. Why?

Because I'm talking to you.

I--

oh, my god.

You can't look at me.

Marshall, for god's sakes,

it's not like I'm naked.

Naked would be better.

That makes me feel so...

Dirty.

Good lord. Watch the door, pervis.

Why so glum, sugarplum?

I'm not mad at you anymore.

Oh, wait.

Ah, ah, ah. Hey, Dee.

Did I ever tell you

about how Mary got an "a" in psychology class?

No. Careful.

I'm not in the mood. Tough noogies, I am.

So we're studying psychosexual archetypes,

and Mary is definitely

gonna flunk this class.

Then one day, she comes to class

dressed as the classic catholic school girl.

I'm warning you. Shush.

I'm talking butt-high pleated skirt, anklets,

the whole megillah.

Then this little minx sits in the front row.

Total commando.

I am talking the full basic instinct.

Needless to say, guess who got an "a"

and a free trip to Europe.

No, way. That's not true.

Uh-huh. Absolutely true.

She showed him heaven,

so he showed her Paris.

Didn't you?

Yeah, that was fun.

Yeah. Gosh. Now tell them about the special tutoring session

you had with the same professor every Friday in our dorm room

for an entire semester and how he still flunked you.

Absolutely true, isn't it, sugarplum?

Well played. All right, then, game on.

Bring it, biyatch.

Excuse me, ladies.

I have a warrant for the arrest of miss treena Morris.

God, treena, now what'd you do?

Cut to the chase, flatfoot.

Show me what you got.

Miss Morris, you're under arrest

for the multiple violations of the new Mexico penal code.

You have the right to remain sexy.

Oh, hey, what are you doing in here?

You're missing out on all the fun.

Yeah. Actually, I went to a strip club at lunch.

I'm all strippered out.

Oh, come on. It's just a little harmless fun.

Mark knows I would never cheat on him.

He thinks he knows that because he thinks he knows you.

Everything you've told him is a lie.

What about you?

What about that lecture you gave me

on the importance of your anonymity?

Does your family know what you do?

Does your boyfriend, your girlfriend, whatever.

It's different.

I maintain an alias to protect the people I care about.

You do it to swindle the people who care about you.

I started lying a long time before I learned

how much men will give up for a pretty face.

I didn't start lying to pull scams,

and you didn't start hiding yourself

when you became a marshal.

That's just how you justify it.

If you weren't a marshal,

you'd have some other excuse.

It's tough, really tough.

A career and a family

and trying to maintain a relationship.

It's practically-- well, you know.

I mean, you're in law enforcement.

Hey. Hey.

What are you doing? You been drinking?

No. I'm just commiserating with officer--

I'm sorry, what's your name again?

And don't say dick.

Excuse us. Or Peter.

To be continued.

Rod. That's it.

Sad thing is the guy's actually Albuquerque P.D.

Moonlighting.

So what's up?

You have a visitor.

Oh, man.

What's Dershowitz doing here?

Good question.

Let me know when you find out.

Holy--

all right, can it, detective.

I'm obviously attending a party.

In what capacity?

What happened? Why are you here?

Just for fun,

how about we answer

the second question first?

Whatever blows your skirt up.

Good god.

Mm-hmm.

And here comes the answer to the first question.

We found him dead in a motel room.

Our forensics experts

believe that the deceased

took one look at you in that dress,

then hired somebody to shoot him in the head.

No doubt.

Anyway, his name is Jay Kelly.

He's a p.I. From Dallas.

Based on incoming calls on his cell,

he was working for some South Africans.

That mean anything to you?

Here,

maybe this will jog something loose.

Not that you deserve it.

So am I to infer

that new Mexico's most eligible bachelor

is betrothed to one of your newly-minted citizens?

Thank you.

You're welcome.

Lock the party down. Nobody in or out.

The africans are in town.

Stan will be here in a minute.

Whoo!

Hey, I'm making a documentary!

Please help me!

Look, treena, something's come up.

The wedding's off. What are you talking about?

That man at the bridal shop was working for the africans.

He was murdered.

They're most certainly here in Albuquerque.

Well, then find them,

but you can't call off my wedding.

Look, you rode the scam as far as you could, okay,

but the whole thing's unraveling now.

It's time to cut your losses and skedaddle. Let's go.

No, no. God, no, please.

I know what I've been. I know what you think I am.

But just listen to me.

Six months ago, you said I should allow

for the possibility of something greater.

And it took me a while,

but I finally figured out what you meant.

Great. We'll have to compare notes sometime.

After I met Mark,

I realized what you meant was,

quit being such a goddamn coward.

Have the courage to stand

right next to someone you care about, this close,

without guile,

defenseless, and risk total annihilation.

And now partly because of you,

miracle of miracles, I actually managed

to drop the stones to allow this wonderful man into my heart.

That's Mark.

He's probably checking up on me.

Hi, sweetheart.

Hey, hon, quick question.

Did you steal $10 million worth of diamonds?

Where are you?

At Tom-Tom's. At the boys'.

There's a couple of guys here

who say they knew you in a past life.

Mark.

Oh, my god.

What? What, what?

The diamond smugglers are with Mark.

Okay, Mark, sweetie, listen to me.

Don't go anywhere with those men,

do you understand me?

Mark. Mark!

I'll make this brief.

Your fiance in exchange for my diamonds.

I'll call back in 30 minutes with further instructions.

Any sign of the police,

and Mark dies.

No, wait. Look--

Hello? Hello?

Give me the phone.

No. They said no police.

Wait! Wait there!

They grabbed the fiance.

I need to track and locate first number on that list.

It's Mark bevin's phone.

That's treena's number. Also track and locate.

I'm on the court order.

Got it. I'll call esu.

Mary, please let me go.

Treena, they've already shown

they're not leaving any witnesses behind.

If you go, they kill you both.

Hey, girls, is there a problem here?

Oh, Dee, I'm so sorry.

Baby, what is it?

They have Mark.

And it's all my fault.

What? Who has Mark?

Um, a ring of illegal diamond smugglers.

Why?

Treena, do you want to take this one?

To collect the $10 million

in raw diamonds they think I stole from them.

Well, did you steal them?

Sort of.

I'm so sorry.

Honey, you know you needn't apologize to me

for ripping off a few lousy crooks.

I mean, given the opportunity,

I'd do the same thing.

Unbelievable.

And just what are you doing about getting my son back?

Everything we possibly can.

Now tell me where the diamonds are.

For heaven sakes, treena, tell her where the diamonds are.

In my condo in the freezer

in a frozen jar of spaghetti sauce.

Here. All right. I'm on my way.

The judge is writing warrants as we speak.

Esu says the track and locate will be up in 20 minutes.

Let's hit it.

Got everything you need? Locked and loaded.

Really?

Trust me, it's up there...Somewhere.

Please bring Mark back to me.

I will.

You've got to be kidding me.

Son of a bitch.

Yeah. Hey, it's me.

Where's treena?

Indisposed. What's the problem?

The diamonds aren't here.

What do you bet treena's not there either?

In the wind.

Track her cell.

She must have pick-pocketed my bag.

Already on it.

Mark's cell, by the way, turned up at the bar.

They must have dumped it. Figures.

You think she split with the diamonds?

Either that or she's going to get herself killed.

Take central over the river.

The signal's about a mile south

on cottonwood.

It's the bevin's stables.

How do I know you won't kill us

after I give you the diamonds?

My dear, I'm going to kill you either way.

The only question is whether it's quick and merciful

or if I let Edward tear your fiance apart

one joint at a time.

That doesn't sound like much of a choice.

Stop wasting time.

In here.

What are you doing?!

What the hell are you doing?

Just follow my lead.

I thought I was.

Treena, is that you?

Who is this?

Huh?

I'm the maid of honor. Who the hell are you?

Zip up, Derek, and come on.

Treena!

I understand you having a little fun

before you tie the proverbial noose,

but a three-way?

That's just excessive.

Unless you want to make it a five-way.

What do you say?

Oh, my gosh! Treena, what is this?

Stay where you are.

Hurry up.

Give Edward the diamonds.

You two,

back of the stall with her.

Okay, okay, okay.

But you're making a big mistake, friend.

My daddy owns one of the biggest car dealerships

in Albuquerque and he knows people.

You see, Edward, this is why the world hates Americans.

Kill them, Edward.

Wait, Edward.

I can be a lot of fun on a road trip.

My proclivities run toward the European,

if you catch my meaning.

Freeze! U.S. marshals!

Mary!

Freeze!

Guess what? You just got your ass kicked by a girl.

Need a hand?

Not now, unless maybe you wanted to go after the other guy.

Despite my athletic prowess and my eagerness to please you,

I cannot outrun an horse.

Baby, sugar, are you okay?

I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?

You are like some damn roller coaster ride,

you know that?

So what was the deal with that kiss?

What kiss?

In the barn.

I don't know. You kissed me.

Nuh-uh. I smeared lipstick on your face.

You responded like a guy

who thought he was about to break himself off some.

Uh-uh.

With two armed assassins standing 15 feet away,

you were all set to throw down with your best friend.

What do you want me to say? I'm a guy.

It's what we do.

Oh, my. How cool is that?

What's up, y'all?

Where the hell does he get a lasso?

Nice dress.

Here they come.

Hey.

Hi.

I'm at the airport

and I just wanted to tell you,

well, uh...

Wait. Don't say anything.

And don't get on the plane till I get there.

Well, you better hurry.

It's the last flight out and I start tomorrow.

I'm on my way.

Hey, I gotta go.

You got everything covered? I think we can handle it.

All right. Thanks, guys. I'll call you later.

All right-e-o.

Mary, wait.

I'm kind of in a rush. Okay. I just want to give you this.

You're opting out of the program?

Well, nobody wants me dead anymore.

Aw, don't sell yourself short.

Well, thank you.

You're welcome.

And congratulations.

Hey.

Maybe you should allow yourself the possibility

of something greater.

Hey.

Okay.

I suppose it's possible

that happily ever after does exist.

That is, if you're courageous enough

to stand this close to someone

without guile, defenseless,

and put up with all the crap that goes with it.

What?

Come on!

What the hell am I doing?

Oh, well...

Doesn't that just blow?