All language subtitles for FBI.Most.Wanted.S06E18.Trust.720p.AMZN.WEB-DL.H264-NTb_track3_[eng]

For now,
we are taking a break.

He needs to focus on
his recovery 100%.

I think that's responsible.

Yeah, it was his idea, actually.

Well, I'm happy for him.

But I got to ask,
what do you want?

You know, you're the first
person to ask me that.

Well, that's 'cause you're
my friend, Hana, and I care.

I don't want you putting
your feelings second.

You know, I've been so focused
on what Ethan needs

that I haven't even
been able to think

about what I want.

I don't want to lose him.

But if I'm honest, it's--
it's been a lot.

I think it's for the best
that we're on a break.

Well, luckily for you,
we got enough wine and cheese

to feed a French army.

Plus, I got us something.

Check this out--
something to take away

from the relationship drama.

It's a game.

OK, so we both choose
a country.

Here, you read the rule book.

Uh, exactly how long
is this gonna take?

About three hours.

Oh, my God, Sheryll,
where did you even get this?

A toy store.

I'm headed to D.C.
to see Anais and Theo,

and I didn't want
to show up empty-handed.

Oh, nice--
visit with the kiddos?

- Yeah.
- Mm.

Actually...

I got an interview
with headquarters.

As if you would
ever leave me.

Wait.

You serious?

Task force supervisor role.

You know, it's a great job.

SSA, pay bump.

You would absolutely kill it.

Have you told Remy?

God, no.

No.

You got to take
your own advice.

You got to put yourself first.

Listen, it would be amazing
to be in the same city

as Anais and Theo again.

I miss coming home
to all the mess.

But I understand
being a supervisor

would take me out of the field,
probably for good.

But you don't know if
you're ready for that yet?

I feel like I always
have to choose between

being the best mom
or being the best agent.

George, we're gonna be late.

Just say the word, Amelia.

All I need is
a little butcher's twine

to tie his legs up
like a Cornish hen.

Yum, yum, yum, yum.

Tempting,
but what we really need is

for someone to tie
his own shoes.

Ah.

Get you anything
from the farmer's market?

Not today.
Thanks, Frankie.

Amelia, chase me!

Mommy! Mommy!

George, do not bother
your mother.

Wow, who needs a workout
when you've got that one

to chase around all day?

Tell me about it.

How is she this morning?

Unbearably grumpy.

Oh. An improvement, then?

Amelia, get up here.

Amelia, can you corral him, please?

Yes, ma'am.

Will you be joining us
for lunch later with Mr. Jay?

Please?

Not today.
Mommy has so much to do.

I'm starting to get a migraine.

Why don't you spend the whole
day with him at the club?

Come on, George.

Let's give your mother
some space.

All right, listen up.
Ray's caught a nasty flu.

He's gonna be out
for the next few days.

Isobel tells me we got
a big fish on the line?

Yes, it is a whopper.

Our victim is Vanessa Van Dyke.

She drowned in her very ornate
bathroom yesterday morning,

in her $10 million castle,

leaving behind a husband
and 5-year-old son.

The Van Dykes are this rich,
muckety-muck family

from Newport, Rhode Island.

Their estate is a rotating door
of deliveries, household staff,

and ladies who lunch,
which is probably

how our suspect snuck in.

He disguised himself
as a gardener

in order to get
onto the property.

There's been no pops
on facial rec,

and the family
doesn't recognize him.

The pickup truck
was reported stolen

from a landscaping company
in Fall River, Massachusetts.

Just across the state line,
makes this one ours.

Well, that and the fact
that Vanessa owns

the Cliff Walk Yacht Club.

The Van Dykes are
super old money.

Our subject dumped the truck
about a mile from their home.

You two take
the abandoned truck.

Barnes and I will head
to the crime scene.

- That's a relief.
- Thank God.

What, you guys don't
want to ride with me?

It's just a little early
for the yacht rock playlist.

But I love Christopher Cross.

And that's why
she's my favorite.

- Thank you.
- No problem.

This is a mess to process.

Yeah, we struck out.

There's no cameras
in the parking lot.

Our guy's in the wind.

Ooh, you smell that?

Yeah, I can smell
the garbage.

Oh, if your old man
smoked as much as mine,

you would recognize
that stench anywhere.

Let's see.

Here, poor man's ashtray.

We can run these cigarette
butts and hope to get some DNA.

This must be our suspect's
burner phone.

Why would he
leave that behind?

I'm not sure, but I'll know
more once I crack it open.

So nothing was stolen?

Well, it's a big house,
obviously,

but--but no,
as far as I can tell.

Where were you yesterday
morning, Mr. Van Dyke?

It's Mr. Bradford, actually.

I didn't take
Vanessa's last name.

And I was down at
the Yacht Club all morning.

I work there as
a sailing instructor.

All of this, it's a--

it's Vanessa's family money.

She used to joke that
she married for love,

and I married for boats.

Just a few more, Jay.

I'm locking down
the family's financials--

closing all credit cards,
freezing accounts,

moving any cash on hand
offshore just to be safe.

You might save some taxes
on your family trust to boot.

The family might be
bereaved, but they're--

they're not saps, Agent Scott.

- Send me everything.
- Of course, of course.

I'll have my office email you
all of Vanessa's financials.

So if this wasn't a robbery,
it might be personal.

Is there someone
you can think of

who might want to harm
your wife?

I wouldn't know
where to start.

Are you kidding?

A lot of people held grudges
against Mrs. Van Dyke.

Like who?

The Junior League,
Mr. O'Leary, down the block,

half the city council.

That catering company
that she ran out of business,

the Historical Society,
the Girl Scouts.

Her cousin, Bunny.

Then there was Ralph,
of course.

That's another cousin?

No, Lauren.

It was a whole thing.

And what time did you leave
yesterday morning?

We were running late.

I took George to his
swim lesson at 8:45.

What time was it
you got back?

Just before 9:20.

When you left for the day,
did you lock the front door?

Vanessa wouldn't allow it.

There were always people
coming in and out.

If you locked up the house,

the doorbell would ring
constantly.

Well, that doesn't sound
very secure.

That's what
the front gate was for.

If you knew the code,
you could come and go

without disturbing
Mrs. Van Dyke.

And how many people
knew that code?

Probably a lot.

So it seemed
Vanessa had a bad habit

of rubbing people
the wrong way.

Well, not speaking ill
of the dead,

her husband gave me
the same impression.

An enemy to some,
the envy of all,

at least according
to her household staff.

I peeked in Vanessa's closet,
so I can understand why.

It should be a crime
to have that many Birkin bags.

Don't you have
a birthday coming up?

Maybe Scola can spring
for a new purse.

I'll pass on the purse.

But I did ask him for Beyoncé
tickets, so we'll see.

Well, much like Queen Bey,

whoever killed Vanessa
had impeccable timing.

It's not very often
the house is empty,

but our suspect picked
the perfect window.

Exactly 34 minutes
when Vanessa was home alone.

Do we think
he just got lucky?

Well, maybe, but he also knew
the code to the gate.

Which isn't hard.

It's the house number,
plus pound.

And he didn't trip the alarm.

Well, Mrs. Van Dyke
insisted it be

turned off during the day.

Why would she insist on that?

Apparently, the constant
ringing of the doorbell

would trigger one of Vanessa's
famous migraines.

I'm starting to get
one of those myself.

Any other cameras?

A big house like that should
have tons of security.

Nope, one
on the entire property.

Are you kidding me?

The rich always feel
more insulated

than they actually are.

OK, I was able to open
our suspect's burner phone.

Now, this was the last website
he accessed before the attack.

What is that?

It's some kind of chat
interface inside a dating app.

"Take full control."
"No safe words."

This reads like
a perverted tryst.

Who is he talking to?

That's the crazy part.

It's Vanessa Van Dyke.

Be right back.

Two more Shirley Temples, please.

Sure.

I was--I was sorry to hear

about what happened
to Ms. Van Dyke.

Thank you for saying so.

It was awful, what happened.

You're staring.

Stop it.

You all remember Jill Potts
from cyber crimes.

The dating app
Mrs. Van Dyke was on

caters to BDSM enthusiasts.

It allows users to find
matches who share similar...

I think the word
you're looking for is "kink."

Exactly.

And Vanessa's area of interest

was something called EA,
erotic asphyxiation.

Like being held underwater.

Now, it looks like Vanessa
and someone online

named "Choke Artist"--
hate that name--

came up with a plan for him
to stage a home invasion

at a pre-agreed upon time

when Vanessa would be
waiting in the tub.

That's how the suspect
snuck in.

Vanessa gave him
the keys to the castle.

OK, "Whatever I say,
don't stop."

I mean, don't people normally
establish a safe word?

How do we know this isn't some
sort of sex game gone wrong?

I dug in on
your subject's profile.

It's only a week old,
and he was exclusively cruising

for EA subs
in the Newport area.

It seems pretty targeted.

Were you able to pull
any other location data?

Not yet.

The company behind the app
is stonewalling us.

But I can confirm that
the IP address for that account

matches your suspect's
burner phone.

OK, well, I looked into that.

The burner phone was purchased
at a mini mart in Fall River.

All right, you and Nina
head to that mini mart.

I'll follow up on the husband.

Hana, see what else
you can find

on Vanessa's dating profile.

And, Jill, stay on your cell
in case we need you.

I always do.

The app was in a hidden
folder on your wife's phone.

Our working theory
is that she invited

her assailant into your house.

And what she thought
would be consensual EA

took a deadly turn.

You don't seem all that
surprised, Mr. Bradford.

It goes without saying

that we would prefer to keep

any salacious details private
for the family's sake.

We can definitely do that.

But I need you to put
your cards on the table first.

When Vanessa was a young
girl, she nearly drowned.

Her father took her out
on one of the family boats.

It capsized, and she got
caught in the rigging.

And if it wasn't for her dad's
bravery, she would have died.

He gave his life for hers.

I think there was just
something about that guilt

that always stuck with her.

Take your time.

Early on in our relationship,
Vanessa began to ask me

for some increasingly dangerous
asphyxiation play.

And I--I just didn't have
the stomach for it.

My wife needed something
that I could not provide.

So I just--I just--

I turned a blind eye to it.

I--

Auntie Annie,
I made this for you!

Hey, just give us a sec,
OK, buddy?

Hey, George.

Oh, my goodness.

Come here.

Mm. Thank you.

It's beautiful.

Will you sign it for me?

Come on, let's go.

Look,

we will give you
anything that you need

to catch this bastard, OK?

Appreciate that.

Looks like the phone was
purchased last Tuesday,

a little after 3:00 PM.

Any chance you got any
footage from that afternoon?

Maybe.
Let me check in the back.

- Thank you.
- OK.

Is it just me,
or did I detect

a little tension between you
and Ms. Cyber Crimes?

Oh, my God.

It was that obvious?

I mean,
I do know a thing or two

about office romance.

Yeah, we've been out
a couple times.

You know that.

Yeah, and? Spill the tea.

Well, I bailed on her
in the middle of our last date,

left her at a party
she invited me to

and have not called
her back since.

Why? What's up?

We're not on the same
wavelength, you know?

I get that.
It's OK.

You're in luck.

That's your guy.

Did he pay with credit card?

No, paid in cash.

But he didn't just buy
the one phone.

He bought three.

OK, so our suspect
could have accomplices.

Can we get the serial
numbers for them?

Yeah.

What do you mean,
the FBI is looking into it?

Calm down, Kevin.

Everything's going
according to plan.

Yeah, that's easy
for you to say.

They found the phone
in the pickup,

and they were asking Jay
all about that dating app.

Could you please
not call him that?

Who? Jay?

Yes.
His name is Mr. Bradford.

Baby, I told you, there's
no reason to be jealous.

I'm not jealous.
I'm pissed off.

He's the reason
we're in this mess.

It was just the one time.

And if he had just
kept it in his pants

instead of cheating
on his wife,

then I wouldn't have had to--

Wouldn't have had to what?

Mr. Bradford.

What are you doing here?

This is my office, Kevin.

I should ask you
the same thing.

Sit down.

Come on, son.

Come on.

What is this?

A confession.

I just want to make sure
you don't do anything stupid.

I had to tell him, Kevin.
He figured everything out.

You don't realize it yet,
but you did me a favor.

Now, I can get you
out of this mess,

but I just need
some assurances first.

No. No, no, no.
But this isn't--

Why you killed my wife?

Enlighten me, Kevin.

Why did you drown Vanessa?

Well, she was
gonna fire Amelia.

And with your work visa,

you would have
to leave the country.

And Vanessa knew about
you two sleeping together,

but it was just the one time.

Mm, well,
that's not entirely true.

You two are still
sleeping together?

How--how could you?

Vanessa was snooping around.

She would have
ruined everything.

You lied to me.

Yes, she did.
Now sign.

And what if I refuse?

Don't be an idiot.

Do what he says, Kev.

There.

Now what?

OK. OK.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.

It's OK. It's OK.

It's done now.

How do you feel?

Incredible.

You, me, and George...

we're a family now.

Not just a family.

We're rich.

Deceased is Kevin Mulvaney.

He's a bartender
here at the club.

He kind of looks like
the kid who bought

those three burner phones.

I'll bet he's a DNA match
to those cigarette butts

you found also.

He left a signed
suicide note.

He confesses to killing
Vanessa Van Dyke

and says he became
obsessed with her

while working here at the club.

I call BS.

This kid kills himself
inside Jay's office

to apologize
for killing his wife?

Come on.
- No.

Nobody's that loyal
to their boss.

Kevin's signature is smudged,
meaning he's left-handed,

but he shoots himself
with his non-dominant hand?

Ambidextrous?

This is all a little
too goofy for me.

Wait, here.

We may have a recording of it.

Keep digging.

Nina and Barnes are
tearing apart Kevin's condo.

I doubt they'll
find anything.

You run his criminal history?

Kid's squeaky clean--

not even
an overdue library book.

Until two days ago, when
he murdered Vanessa Van Dyke.

What about the DNA you found
in that stolen truck?

The lab confirmed
it was definitely Kevin.

Well, he didn't
just wake up one day

and decide to kill
his boss's wife.

There's got to be more
to this story.

Where are we on
that hidden camera?

It's still powered on.

I think it's motion activated.

So it should be
recording, right?

Probably.

It's hard to get any
footage from the cloud

when there's no account info.

DaFino-Cam3?
What the hell does that mean?

I don't know.
Maybe it's the brand?

Do we still have
the financials

their attorney sent over?
- Yep.

Let's see if that name pops.

OK.

There's a weekly
recurring payment

from Vanessa's personal account
to a Michael Da Fino.

Who's that?

He's a private investigator
out of Providence

in a very cheap suit.

Well, if his client
was killed,

why hasn't he reached out yet?

If he's got a weekly payment,
he probably doesn't want

to get off the gravy train.

Get this slimeball
on the phone.

Go for Mike.

This is Remy Scott
with the FBI.

We're looking into
the murder of your client,

Vanessa Van Dyke.

Yeah, so?

We discovered one
of your hidden cameras

inside her husband's office,

where a man was found dead
early this morning.

I see.
How can I help?

Well, to start with, you can
tell us why Vanessa hired you.

You know what the "I"
in private eye stands for,

Agent Scott?

Infidelity.

Cheating husbands
keep the lights on.

Jay was stepping out on her?

So she thought.

About a month ago,
she found a little lipstick

on his collar, confronted him.

But he denied it.

A woman's intuition
is usually right.

Oh, he was definitely
having an affair.

You can count on it.

I just didn't have
the goods on him yet.

You think he'd be capable
of killing his wife?

Hmm.

Hard to say.

Maybe, maybe not.

Have Newport PD pick up
Jay Bradford at his house

and have Barnes and Nina
meet them there.

I need to see the footage
on that camera.

Yeah, I don't know if
it's still recording or not.

Well, check it,
and call me back.

As I was saying,

I wanted you both
to come down here.

Have a seat. Have a seat.

Well, you made it seem like

we didn't have
much of a choice.

Well, I have
a little videotape

I'd like both of you to see.

So what?

You're blackmailing me?

No.

Think of it as
a right to first refusal.

And why should we trust you?

Because I didn't
just screw your play.

Look, it's not illegal to have
an affair with the nanny,

but just a little cliché.

Let's say you two
go with the story

that you gave
the Mulvaney kid, right?

Vanessa found out
you were sleeping with Amelia.

She was upset with that.

She confronts Amelia,
threatens to send her packing.

Desperate,
Amelia runs to Kevin.

And Kevin, being the
lovesick puppy that he is,

takes matters
into his own hands, hmm?

I can make the tape disappear,

and you two lovebirds
sail off into the sunset.

- I think that might work.
- Mm.

How much?

Typical rich kid.

First instinct is always
to buy off your problems.

Let's say $9,000,

cash, every week,

until I get tired
of fleecing the tax man.

You know, I--

I am impressed, Mr. Da Fino.

You--you almost had it
all figured.

Almost?

What did I leave out?

I'm no rich kid.

Oh, my God.

Get the car.

Amelia, now!

Hana, what's up?

Where are you?

15 minutes out
from the Van Dyke home.

Why?

Newport PD just arrived
on the scene.

There's no sign of Jay, but it
looks like he left in a hurry.

What about this PI?

Da Fino's dead.

His body was found
dumped near the Marina.

Remy thinks he's been
playing both sides.

Well, blackmail is
a dangerous game.

All right, do we know
where Jay's headed?

Not yet.

I'm still trying to track down
all the Van Dykes' cars.

OK, wait a sec.

One of the missing
burner phones just powered on.

They dialed a number
owned by the Yacht Club.

And where is that?

It's near your location.

I'm gonna send you the address.

OK.

All right, George, we're
gonna go on a little adventure,

just me, you, and your dad.

How does that sound?

Pretty fun.
Is Mommy coming?

She's gonna meet us.

From now on, everything's
gonna be better, I promise.

All right, let's do this.
Engine's on, all right?

I'll handle these.
Can you grab George?

Yeah, yeah, I got him.
Go.

How does this work?

OK, just--just--
just stay here, buddy, OK?

Daddy, wait!

Jay!

We can come back for him.

Are you crazy?

Oh, damn it.

All right, come on.
- FBI! Freeze!

Come on, buddy.
Come on. Let's go.

Don't shoot! He's got a kid.

Jay, stop!

They're getting in the boat!

Jay, do not get on that boat!

- I've got you. Here.
- Do you have a shot?

- The kid's in the way.
- Amelia, stop!

- Clear!
- They're gonna go.

- No, no, no!
- Go.

- Hey!
- Stop that boat!

- Stop, stop!
- Stop!

So it turns out
Jay and the nanny were

behind all this.
- Amelia.

I should have guessed.
It's always the nanny.

Something that
the private investigator

was bound to find out.

That's why
they killed Vanessa.

I'm just not sure
how they did it.

I think I have something.

OK, so it looks
like they ditched

the burner phones
as soon as they found out

we were tracking them.

Both of them were logged
into that kinky dating app.

It turns out that
Jay and Amelia

created Vanessa's profile.

It was all set up
to murder Vanessa

and leave Kevin
holding the bag.

The boat they stole
is owned by the Yacht Club.

Jay called to have it
gassed up right after

they killed Da Fino.

There's no GPS tracking on it,

but we did BOLO
the Coast Guard.

Have state police
send up a chopper.

Do we know which way
they're headed?

All we know is
they were heading west.

Narragansett Bay
into Long Island Sound,

100 nautical miles
and a thousand places to hide.

We can't forget, he's
an accomplished sailor too.

And the most important part,
Jay has his kid in tow.

Get me the Van Dykes'
attorney.

Where they heading?

I told you already,
I don't know.

OK, do the Van Dykes have
any other property in the area?

A penthouse in Manhattan.

They're not lying low
on the top floor.

Now, think.

What about Jay?

Does he have family close by?

I don't know
if I can answer that.

He's still my client.

I thought you represented
the estate.

I do.

We're looking at
a 5-year-old boy

who stands to inherit,

but only if he makes it
out of this alive.

They took George?

Jay tried to leave him
on the dock, but yes.

Jeez, Jay, not again.

What do you mean by that?

Annie.

Before Jay met Vanessa,

he was an absolute pirate.

He grew up in
Mystic, Connecticut,

sailing yachts, partying.

He married a trashy bartender
named Laura.

They had a son, until Jay went
full deadbeat dad.

Is this them?

Yeah.

And that's Leo,
Jay's first son.

He owed them a huge amount
of child support.

And then one day, when Leo was
about the same age as George,

Jay just up and left,
abandoned them both

to go race yachts
out in San Diego.

Do you think that
Jay could hurt George?

I think they treated that boy

more like a possession
than a son.

He's obviously not winning
Father of the Year.

But there's no way Jay's taking
Amelia to his ex-wife's house.

We need to figure out
where he's headed.

Now, they need money, right?

What about the trust?
You moved all the cash?

It's--it's all in
an offshore account.

Yeah, got it.

It's in Jay's name
in a bank in the Bahamas.

Which will take time
to freeze

that we don't have right now.

Especially not if
Jay can sail to Nassau.

And when he gets there,

he's looking at millions
in buried treasure.

Georgie, stay there.
I'll be right back.

You need to drop it.

I can't, Jay.
You almost left George behind.

- Look, I panicked, all right?
- You think that excuses it?

You said we're a family now,

that George needs
two parents in his life.

- I know what I said.
- Then act like it.

Look, I went back
and got him, didn't I?

That's not the point.

What if it was me?
Would you leave me behind?

Look, you put me
in that position,

and you're gonna find out.

Ahoy there!

How are you?

Are you--are you guys
the Andersons?

Sure are. I'm Paul.

And this is
my better half, Nan.

Oh, I'm Jay.

And this--this is
my better half, Amelia.

The dock master said that
you guys are getting ready

to ship on down to the Keys.

Oh, yeah, we--we putter
that way almost every year.

Putter is right.
It takes a long while.

I bet.

I bet it does.

Hey, do you mind
if we bum a ride?

That's a--a funny thing
to ask.

Mm.

It's not a request, actually.

Mystic is 5 miles out.
Jay grew up sailing there.

He knows it like
the back of his hand.

Yeah, I'm looking
at float plans.

This kid's life's in danger.
We need more than a hunch.

I found two marinas with
boats heading to the Caribbean.

We got word to the first one
to be on the lookout.

What about door number two?

The dock master
isn't answering.

Nina and Barnes should be
pulling up now.

Remy, we're on site.

We're approaching
the main office now.

Any signs of our fugitives?

No. So far, it's just us.

FBI! Anybody here?

Nina.

Yeah?

I got him.

Hey. Hold on one second.
Let me help you.

Clear.

There's two of them,

and they're heading
towards the dock.

Do they have a kid with them?

- I don't know. I'm sorry.
- OK.

Untie him. Let me see.

Remy, the harbor master
says they're here.

I'm checking security.

Talk to me.

Come on.

Um, OK, I found 'em.

They have George.

Do not engage until we land.

Amelia, give me the keys.

I'm looking!

Any sign of Amelia
or Georgie?

Negative.

They must be in the cabin
with the boat's owners.

How long before
the marine patrol gets here?

5 to 10 minutes out.

It looks like Jay's
getting ready to cast off.

He's got a gun
in his waistband.

Cover me.

Jay Bradford, FBI.

Agent Scott.

Interest you in
a little sailing lesson?

Why don't you come on down
here, and we'll talk about it?

No can do.

Hey, buddy.

Let's just duck into
this corner, OK, George?

I want to be home.

And if your friends there
take one more step,

I'm gonna have Amelia start
shooting hostages.

Just be really quiet.

Duck into this corner, OK?

I need you to put
your hands in the air

and come off this boat.

No can do.

Give me the keys, Amelia.

I--I can't find them!

I swear to God,
you take one more step,

and she starts killing people.

Amelia?

Amelia!

Can you hear me?

He's gonna get you
and Georgie killed.

Please don't hurt us!
I've got a little boy in here!

Nobody's shooting anybody, honey.

It's OK.

Daddy!

It's OK, buddy!

It's OK.
Just stay down there.

I'm scared.

Amelia, here's a news flash.

He doesn't care
about you or Georgie.

All he cares about is himself.

That's not true.

If it wasn't for you, Georgie
would be back on that dock.

He's lying.
Give me the keys!

Shh.

If he could do that
to his son,

how long do you think
you're going to last?

He's lying, honey.

Ask him about Leo.

Who?

His firstborn,

Leo,

the one he abandoned
at the drop of a hat

to go race yachts.

Jay, what is
he talking about?

It's not what it seems, honey.

How could you do that?

Amelia, do not do
anything stupid, all right?

I'm sorry.

Please don't hurt us!

I'm coming out!
I don't have a gun!

Coming aboard.

No, you're not.
Stay there.

- Drop that gun.
- Hands up.

Don't shoot.

Do it, now.

Take it out, now!

All right, it's down,
it's down, it's down!

Drop it! Put it down!

Amelia...

I'm not that guy anymore.

Yes, you are.

Hands behind your back.

What's going to happen
to George?

It's up to the Department
of Children and Families.

You be good while
I'm gone, OK, George?

Let's go see
the seagulls, bud.

Is there someone who can
look after the kid?

Oh, there's a cousin
Vanessa always hated.

- Bunny?
- Yeah, how do you know?

Long memory.
It's an occupational hazard.

Well, she's
far too self-absorbed

to ever take in a child, though.

Maybe it's best Georgie takes
a break from the Van Dykes,

at least for the time being.

Oh, you don't mean me.

How would that even work?

We could put in a good word
with Family Services.

You obviously care about him.

Do either one of you
have kids?

I do.

Best thing that ever
happened to me.

Talk to him.

See how you feel.
Who knows?

Speaking of kids, you still
heading down to D.C. tomorrow?

Yeah, I'm on the Acela
first thing in the morning.

Right, take off.

We can wrap up things
from here.

Thank you.

Annie!

And, Barnes...

Tell 'em Uncle Remy says hi.

I will do.

Well, your résumé pretty much
speaks for itself.

Thank you.

And your time
working fugitives

makes you a natural fit
for task force supervisor.

I felt like I might be
well-suited for this role.

SAC Castille said as much.

She couldn't stop
singing your praises.

Isobel's too kind.

Now, she said
you have family in town.

Yeah, my two kids moved
to D.C. with their mom.

Well, we are very
pro-family here at HQ.

A lot of agents find that
coming out of the field

is actually a nice reprieve.

I've been thinking
a lot about that recently.

I bet.

Nearly a decade
on the Fugitive Task Force,

you're probably pretty tired
of living out of a hotel.

Look,

I can't make
an official offer yet,

but the job is basically
yours if you want it.

I do have one final
question, though.

OK, shoot.

Now, there's
no right or wrong answer.

It's just something
I find interesting to ask

our agents applying
for a supervisory position.

Well, that's a lot
of buildup, but OK.

As supervisor,
you'd be in charge

of every violent crimes
task force in the Northeast.

In your opinion,

what's the most important
quality an SSA can foster

with the agents
working beneath her?

I mean, I guess
I have to say trust.

As you know, hunting fugitives
is beyond dangerous.

But the members of my team
have become more like family

than co-workers at this point.

I mean, the trust we've built
over the last few years

not only makes us
more effective as a team,

but it keeps us safe and sane
when we're out on the road.

What's so funny?
- Nothing.

It's just Remy Scott said

almost the exact same thing
a few years back,

when he interviewed to take
over the Fugitive Task Force.

Glad to see the apple doesn't
fall too far from the tree.