Original subtitles

- Will you tell? - No.

Please.

- Will you tell? - No.

- What is that? - What?

- Oh, my gosh. - Oh, my....

- This is all your fault. - I'm sorry, Mr. Stanley.

I never expected so many customers.

Yeah? You and your menu additions are making my life hell, Rizzoli.

Hey, hey, zip it.

And it's "Mrs. Rizzoli" to you, Stanley.

- That's it. - You gave me too much.

No, that's okay. That's for you.

Thank you. Have a good day.

- You're running this morning. Come on. - Uh-uh.

You're too late. I already showered.

Last night or this morning? Never mind. Let's go.

No, I can't. My stomach's full.

Jane, you need endorphins from physical activity because you're depressed.

- I'm not depressed. See. - You'll get over Casey.

Who said it had anything to do with Casey? I got a new ding in my car door.

You lied. Your eyebrow moved.

You are in stage four of the five stages of relationship grief.

I am in stage five of ignoring you.

I can't taste, touch, smell, see or hear you.

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.

A good run will get you to acceptance.

Why does she have to make bunnies?

Mm-mm. I like them bunnies.

Taste better when they got a shape.

- Hmm. - You know what? Take these too.

- You sure? - Yeah.

Because I don't want you losing any more weight.

You know, I like my detectives with a little meat on them.

Rizzoli. Get over here. We're too busy for table service.

I was just getting a to-go container for this gentleman.

You heard that? "Gentleman."

Rondo. Hurry.

You've been giving free food to Rondo. That's why sandwiches cost 12 bucks.

I take it out of my tip money, detective. That man's been through a lot.

Leave him alone.

Oh, we got a murder.

You gonna run to the crime scene?

- Five minutes. - Three.

Read my lips. Get your ass back in the seat and get this bus in service.

Nobody tells me when to drive.

He's a transit cop.

It's not his crime scene, it's ours.

I know him. Artie McMurphy.

He's always irritable.

His wife ran off with her boyfriend years ago or maybe died. Something like that.

- Something like that? - I think they had a kid.

- So you two were close. - Must've been 10 years ago.

No, had to be 20. I was still in the Drug Unit.

- Let me know if you need help finding your car. - Heh, heh, heh.

Oh.

She looks like some big, weird doll.

Why are we speaking French?

Sex dolls originated in the 17th century.

Randy sailors took them on lonely voyages.

But this might be agalmatophilia.

Anything ending in "feel-ya" won't be good.

A fetish involving the love between a man and a doll.

A man, a doll, his love and, what, a two-by-four? A hammer? Hockey stick?

Definitely a solid, high-density object. In common parlance, something hard.

It's a brilliant deduction.

- Her wrists were bound to something. - There's no cast-off, no blood spatter.

She wasn't killed here. What--? Nice scrunchie.

Her clothes are very early '90s too.

More formal, before sweeping changes to fashion made grunge chic.

And you're telling me this because she was transported here from the '90s?

No, Detective Smarty Pants.

Because her clothes are 20-years-old and they don't fit her.

Hey, sorry, I'm late. Breakfast line was long.

I gotta help your mom set up online ordering.

Soon as you're done swallowing pancakes...

...can you go through the suitcase, please?

Okay. This is too easy.

It's all here. Driver's license, bus pass, cash, phone.

Victoria Green. She was 25.

- She lived in Brighton. - Okay, not so easy.

She password-protected her phone.

Okay, so she was probably killed wearing that.

Killer redressed her in those clothes.

And posed her on a bus bench.

So we're not looking for just any old killer.

We're looking for a freak with a doll fetish.

Where is Korsak?

- Is the owner chasing you? - I'm just gonna head on back.

You're not until you say what you're doing with that dog.

How did you rip your pants?

- Oh, man. These are new. - Yeah, new in 1995.

Stealing somebody's dog is a felony.

I didn't steal her.

I'm taking care of Barney Miller until I can find her a home.

"Barney Miller"?

She was--I rescued her.

She was trapped and crying. Somebody abandoned her.

I'm not visiting you when they send you to Walpole.

I will. I will visit you.

There are remnants of a subdural hematoma just above the right ear.

She was knocked out. With what?

- And don't say something hard. - It was hard.

But the extent of the damage makes it impossible...

...to determine the type of instrument used.

- Was she raped? - Doubtful.

There's no evidence of trauma, tearing or bruising.

"Doubtful." So you found something.

Well, she did have sex within the last 36 hours.

- Okay, what's with the doll makeup? - It was applied postmortem.

- See the blood under the makeup? - Mm-hm.

Maybe a sex game gone wrong?

The killer did exhibit a degree of tenderness.

Oh, yeah, real tender. Starting with tenderizing her head.

Got a suspect, Herbert Buckley.

Served two years on an A&B. Released two months ago.

He liked to hire hookers and make them pretend they were dolls.

And hit them in the head with a crowbar.

Nice.

Can you ask Frankie? I'm just not up for a pervert today.

See you, Maura.

Psst. Hey, doc?

What? Sergeant Korsak?

- Are you all right? - I was, wondering if...

...you could give a friend of mine a little check-up?

Here? There's no such thing as a little check-up. I'd have to....

Oh.

Hello.

Man, this is a downer. Herbert goes at Marlene all the time.

She never called the cops before.

- Who's Marlene? - Herbert's old lady.

You bet I'm frustrated!

Now I got mushrooms on my burger and I hate that!

- That would be Herbert. - And the sprouts!

- All in my ketchup! - Stay back. I'm going left. You take right.

- Boston Police! Freeze! - No! No, no! We were just talking.

We were just working through our issues. Oh, baby, I love you.

I would never hurt you. Tell them.

- Are you hurt? - No.

We're just working on our relationship.

I wasn't gonna hit her.

Hey, easy, bro. Don't, uh, cry.

It's Marlene. She hates to be alone.

- I can't leave her alone. - Take her, Frankie.

I don't know where she's been. You take her.

- Barney Miller is in excellent health. - Watch this.

Bring me my keys, Barney Miller. Bring me my keys.

Oh. Ha, ha, ha.

Thank you. Turn off the lights. Turn off the light, Barney Miller.

- Good girl. Yeah. - Look what I found.

Oh, an RFID scanner. Thanks, Susie.

Well, if Barney Miller is chipped...

...this will tell us who she belongs to.

She's registered to the Truce Veteran Center.

- Are you a service dog, Barney? - That's why you know all those tricks.

I guess a wounded warrior needs you more than I do.

Yeah.

Why don't I take Barney Miller home.

- Spare you that. - Would you? I don't think I can do it.

Goodbye, girl.

Oh, wait! Barney Miller.

Elsie? Good girl.

Look at you. Maura.

Heh. Casey.

- Hi. - Hi.

How'd you get your collar off again?

Sergeant Korsak found her not too far from here. Is she yours?

She's--She's one of our service dogs.

As you can see, she's pretty adept at opening doors.

You have cauda equina syndrome, don't you?

- How did it happen? - Roadside bomb.

Partially paralyzed.

A colleague of mine is heading up the Boston clinical trials...

...for a new spinal regeneration technique.

- If-- - I know. I'm on the waiting list.

- You should tell Jane. - No.

And you won't either. Ever.

- You have to promise me that. - I don't know that I can make that promise.

- She's my friend. - If you're her friend, you won't tell her.

Casey, a lot of couples cope with very serious war injuries.

Yeah? Hang out with me here, meet some of those couples.

See what an injury like mine does to girlfriends, wives, families.

Jane is suffering. It's mean not to tell her.

The truth is easier than what she's imagining.

I came back here to see if I could get into the clinical trials.

I didn't come back for Jane.

Just finished interrogating Herbert. That is one very strange man.

And woman.

Herbert was looking pretty good for it...

...till the landlord said old Herb was yelling at Marlene all night.

Hey, excuse me, that's my chair you're sit-- God! What is...?

- Ha, ha, ha. - That is not funny. Who put that there?

- That is Marlene. Herb's old lady. - Ugh. Get her out of my chair.

- Oh, man. - What? What's wrong with you?

- Barney Miller's gone. - Aw. Don't be sad.

Marlene is winking at you.

- She might like leashes too. - Show some respect.

- To a mannequin? - To Elsie.

- That's Barney Miller's real name. - You knew that dog for two hours.

She works with vets struggling with PTSD at....

At?

At the program where Lt. Colonel Jones works.

Really? Well, that's interesting.

Herb is downstairs crying like a baby.

He wrapped himself around a security station.

He won't leave without Marlene.

Don't let the size two jeans fool you. That bitch is heavy.

Wow, Marlene's no cheap date, either. Eight grand?

Damn. Of course if you amortize that, might be cheaper than a wife.

Plus you get a woman who doesn't talk.

Oh, great. Thank you, Moe, Curly, Larry.

Curly, take Marlene, please?

- Certainly. - You, Larry...

...did you unlock the password on our victim's phone?

Can't crack it, but I'll keep trying.

- What about you, Moe? - Monthly bus pass won't tell us anything.

BCAT doesn't track usage.

Sixteen bytes per sector are reserved...

...for keys and access conditions and cannot normally be used for user data.

Beep. I am a robot. Beep. I do not compute human talk.

I do not use that inflection and that is the storage space on a BCAT card.

- That's riveting. - I'm going to the gym.

Even though you're rude, you're coming with me.

No, thank you. I'm too tired to work out.

Then let's go to the Dirty Robber.

No. I'm gonna go work out on my couch. Five stages of junk food.

Hey. Hey.

I mentioned Casey. Do you think that's what's got her down?

I'd only be guessing.

Hey. Come see what Detective Frost set up for me.

Now all my customers can order online.

Oh, wow. This is great.

I'm worried about Jane.

It's as bad as when Andrew Spagnola broke her heart at the Shining Star prom.

You have to swear that you will never mention to Jane what I'm about to tell you.

That's Gray's Anatomy.

Swear, Angela.

I swear. My lips are sealed.

I went to see Casey.

Oh.

Okay. I can't tell you.

No. I promise. Talk.

He's partially paralyzed.

He doesn't want Jane to know.

Partially paralyzed.

- Does that mean he can't have children? - Angela!

What? I want a grandkid and Jane is crazy for him.

There is a small chance that he may regain function someday.

But he's pretty resolute. He doesn't wanna see her.

Oh, then he's a fool.

I could tell she really liked him.

I think she loves him.

Man, you still haven't cracked the password on her phone?

Give it up. Hey.

Maybe the DOJ will let you borrow that kid that hacked into the Pentagon.

- I'll get it. - While you played with the phone...

...I did actual work.

Went to Victoria's apartment. Locked tight. Nothing disturbed.

Moved from Atlanta to take a job with an accounting firm.

Ron Montgomery Associates.

Is her office near where we found her body?

No. Castlegate Towers in Jamaica Plain.

- We don't know where she was last seen? - Nope.

She had a bus pass.

You look at the drivers on route between her office and apartment?

No! Gee! Didn't think of that.

Yes, I checked the route she might've taken and all 73 others.

Drivers working that day and night checked out.

Oh, yeah! Yes! I am good. I'm finally in.

I think I know why our victim was deleting all her texts.

- Uh-oh. - Yeah. She was a sexter.

She was sexting with someone named R. Oh, my. R wasn't shy, was he?

- Must be running for Congress. - Heh.

R for "Ron"? Ron Montgomery Associates?

"Ron Montgomery runs a family company with family friendly values."

I remember when that meant you weren't a pervert.

She was new, but she was a good employee.

You send your picture to all your good employees?

Oh, that. Heh.

No, we, we were just having some innocent fun.

Yeah, looks real innocent.

Oh, no. I didn't do that.

I could never do something like that.

- But you did have sex with her, didn't you? - No. No, we didn't. I'm married.

We have evidence that Victoria had sex with someone the day she died.

- Evidence? - Yeah, a little semen.

Which is full of DNA. Let's do a cheek swab...

...and make sure it's not your DNA?

Okay. No. We had sex. We had sex.

It was consensual and it was on her lunch hour.

Can't have her fool around on company time.

She was lonely. It wasn't serious.

It is now.

- When did you leave work? - I left before she did.

Check with security. I used my key card in the parking garage.

- Where did you go after that? - Straight home.

We got another one.

Probably happened last night.

Get Frankie, check through security tapes in his building.

Make sure his story checks out.

More '90s clothing.

Takes a lot of rage to do that to someone's head.

- Blunt force trauma. - Do you think it's the same killer?

- Remarkable. It is the same. - What? Same weapon?

Same scrunchie.

So our victims were either transported from the '90s...

...or they work for Hillary Clinton or our killer is a scrunchie freak.

All her ID, bus pass. Diane Campbell.

She lived downtown on Tremont Street.

That's not near where our first victim lived.

Nowhere near here, either.

What's going on? I live in that building.

Yeah, no wonder they're scared.

Somebody's hunting young women.

- Hey, can I get my bagel toasted? - I rue the day I gave you a job, Rizzoli.

- Rue it, you hear me? - You ordered some coffee.

Yep.

No one is using my online menu. I'm gonna lose my job.

The traffic isn't getting onto the interweb roads. How do I do that?

Okay, don't panic.

People are attracted to sites with a gimmick or content.

You mean like a raffle for a steak dinner or a Bahamas getaway?

You'll be on permanent getaway if you don't stop yakking with the customers.

I was thinking something more along the lines of a blog.

Something people see every day.

You think I'm gonna see my food this year?

Yes, of course, sir.

- Hey, Ma. - Hey.

Thought you said things were gonna go faster here.

We're just working out a few glitches.

Right. Did our sexter's story check out? What was on the security tapes?

Frankie's still looking.

Frost, doesn't it feel like we're missing something?

Time of death for both victims was around midnight.

The cause of death sure looks the same.

We got the doll pose, the makeup, the '90s clothing, suitcases.

But they had nothing in common. Only link is the monthly bus passes...

...but they didn't take the same buses and all the drivers were clean.

Wait a minute. What about the passengers?

What if the killer is riding the bus and randomly targeting young working women?

Thanks, Ma.

Yeah, that's Ronnie the sexter all right, driving out of his business's garage at 7:58.

Nice work, Frankie.

What's so nice? It just confirms his story.

- Frankie's good at this. He's got more. - Wait for it.

We're waiting for what? Twenty-one-gun salute because you did work?

I'm doing a lot of work for someone who doesn't have his gold badge.

Hmm. I think I detect some whining.

This is from a security camera across the street from Montgomery's office.

Wow. So we watch him drive out from a different angle.

Know what I love about you? You're upbeat and supportive.

You see that? Ron Montgomery pulls up in front...

...just as Victoria, victim one, leaves the building.

And they argue, right here.

Mm. He's got some game. Looks like she's giving in.

And getting in his car.

So, Ron Montgomery is not only a cheater, he's also a liar.

Look, when I heard that Victoria was dead, I didn't wanna be involved.

Oh, okay. No worries. You're not involved.

You were the last one seen with a woman who was found with her skull bashed in.

- We're so sorry to bother you. - How about her?

- Were you not involved with her either? - What are you doing?

I don't know who that is. I didn't do that.

Why were you arguing with Victoria the night she was murdered?

She found out that I'm not really separated...

...and I was giving her a ride home, trying to explain.

She was so upset, she made me pull over near Allendale Circle.

She got out of the car and that's the last time that I saw her.

That's miles from where Victoria lived.

- Then where'd you go? - The Blue Tassel.

I was there.... I was there till closing.

Ask the bartender, Ned.

Make yourself comfortable. We'll be back.

There she goes.

Not sure how far, though. Look at those heels.

Bartender confirms Ronnie boy was there till 2.

Hey, wait, look.

- She took a bus. - Think our bus theory is back.

I checked the backgrounds on all the bus drivers...

...but I think I'll go have a face-to-face with that one.

- You remember her? - She's the girl in the news.

Always got on at Forest Hills.

The other night, I picked her up on Allendale.

Where were you two nights ago?

Got pulled off my route at 10:00 to the 117 bus in East Boston.

Worked until 1 in the morning. Check.

- Thank you. - Hello, Vanilla.

"Angela's Guardians"?

Mrs. Vanilla takes good care of us. So when she put out the call--

- Call? What call? - To protect the young women of this city.

Make the buses safe again.

Why is my mother in the middle of everything?

Uh-uh-uh. Maura's found something big. Just be safe.

This was imbedded in the parietal lobe of Diane Campbell's brain.

- A piece of a toothpick? - Big splinter.

I am prepared to say it is a sliver of wood.

Yeah, Korsak. How could you possibly think that "sliver" was a "splinter."

See this? This stain is actually from two blood types...

...AB positive, which matches victim number one, Victoria Green.

And O negative, which is a match with victim number two, Diane Campbell.

- So the splinter-- - Ahem.

- Precise terminology. - Is the sliver from the murder weapon?

Oh, doesn't that look like her "I've got a secret" face?

I found a third blood type.

There are three types of blood on that sliver?

Well, it is a big sliver. And one other thing...

...the third blood sample is 20 years old.

- Have you been drinking? - Yes. Water.

Two liters a day as recommended by Mayo Clinic.

You couldn't tell how old that blood is.

Yes, I can. It's simple.

A laser excites the tryptophan until it fluoresces--

- Tick tock. - Well, you asked.

That sliver could be a piece of weapon.

That our killer used 20 years ago. Got enough for a DNA profile?

- I have the results from the trace section. - Oh, thank you.

The sliver is white ash.

So we could be looking for a club made of white ash?

Our old nightsticks were white ash.

You think we're looking for a cop?

Who else is a young woman gonna trust?

Someone in a uniform.

- These were phased out, but I kept mine. - So did a lot of guys.

We'd be looking at an old-timer. Maybe retired. With a history of violence.

We didn't find a thing in cold cases. There were no murders with a similar MO...

...in NCIC for 20 years.

I'll check on cops who went to prison for assaults on women or domestic violence.

Maybe our killer's been released, he's back at it.

When I first came on the job...

...had to just about kill your wife to get charged with anything.

How many guys we tell to take a walk to cool off?

- Had to see them punch the old lady. - The "old lady"?

Sorry. It was 30 years ago. I'm sorry.

I had this little trick where I used piss off the old man so he'd come at me.

Gave me a chance to discipline him.

You provoked wife-beaters into picking on someone their own size?

Well, sometimes they were bigger.

Been thinking about what you said about him being tender.

- Casey? - Yeah, Casey.

No, Maura. The killer. And stop saying that name.

Exposure therapy might help you get over Casey. Casey. Casey.

- Stop it. - Just trying to help.

If you wanna play shrink, help me come up with a psychological profile.

He's dissociated from reality.

He's constructed a world in which an act of extreme violence--

Violently smashing women's heads in with a nightstick.

--is followed by a tender expression of love.

Yeah, tenderly slapping on...

...pancake makeup. Making them wear ugly-ass clothes.

Come on. I just got my heart rate up.

He dresses his victims up in 20-year-old clothes. You found 20-year-old blood.

That feels rather significant.

You think we ran long enough to need a shower?

Oh, gosh darn it. I didn't get an endorphin hit yet.

- That was a short run. - I'm a fast runner. I thought of something.

- What do we have on the cop theory? - We looked at cops fired...

...for domestic violence over 20 years. Nothing fits.

Only found a few ex-cops doing time. None of them were released within the year.

Okay, I think our killer is reenacting a murder he committed 20 years ago.

Put on WZJT.

Our young ladies are being stalked by a deranged killer.

It is up to me and my homies to help the Boston Police Department.

Police don't care that women aren't safe!

Thank goodness the homies are on the case.

Rizzoli, why the hell is your informant the lead choir boy for your mother's homies?

Hold on, that's not fair. The police do care, they just can't be everywhere.

So, Angela's Guardians gonna be there.

Oh, it's gonna be Angela's Ashes when I'm through. Look at this.

- You mom is blogging about our case. - Uh-oh.

Double uh-oh.

Damn, 12,104 followers?

Yeah, you better hide.

Hey.

- You think he's gonna fire her? - Oh, I don't know. She really did it this time.

We've got a situation.

Ugh. "Angela's Guardians are gonna be there."

Yeah, and I'm gonna be back in Evidence Management.

I got cupcakes coming for you.

- I don't think so. - How does she do that?

One study found that when sniffing pumpkin pie and lavender...

- ...men become sexually aroused. - Maura!

Not one word, Rizzoli.

Hey, Ma. Chatting with one of your virtual friends?

Did you see my blog? I'm putting up a few more safety tips.

I have 12 followers so far.

- You have 12,000, Ma. - I do?

Twelve thousand three hundred and thirteen. Twelve thousand three hundred--

Okay. Time to say goodbye to your 12,000 little friends.

We have to help her. She's so angry. I have a very good idea.

No, no. Whatever it is you're thinking of doing, don't. It is none of our business.

Shut my mother's blog down. Now.

You sure? I never built a blog that had this kind of traffic.

Do it or you'll be directing traffic.

Everything is significant to a serial killer. He is not randomly targeting...

...and randomly dropping his victims at bus stops.

We checked everything. If there was a body drop...

...at any of those bus stops in the last 20 years, we'd know.

We checked for body drops near Egleston Square.

- Yeah? - But we didn't check incident reports.

- You got something? - Maybe.

Twenty years ago, a woman disappeared from a store near Egleston Square.

"Libby McMurphy was reported missing from her store...

...Libby's Doll House and Tea Room on August 22, 1992...

- ...by her mother Marion Tibbets." - Libby McMurphy?

Libby, I can forgive anything. Please come home, for me.

For Jonathan. Whatever you've done.

That's a hell of a memory you've got.

- Isn't that Artie, the transit cop? - Yeah.

- Artie McMurphy. His wife was Libby. - The son was 5 when she disappeared.

He'd be 25 now.

Can you run the kid, Jonathan McMurphy?

Already running him, no criminal, no DMV.

Oh, wait, here's something, Tewksbury State Hospital.

Mental hospital. Poor kid.

- Come home. - He's been there eight years.

Maybe what happened to our two victims also happened to his mother.

We'd like to talk to you about your daughter.

Why weren't you interested in what I had to say 20 years ago?

I see you brought some photos.

- Is that Libby and Jonathan? - Yes.

That's Libby and Jonathan at her store, Libby's Doll House and Tea Room.

Jonathan loved it there.

- Is that? What do you call them? - A scrunchie. Yeah.

Libby gave them out as party favors. Those were happy days.

- Mrs. Tibbets, we've asked you-- - My Libby didn't run off.

Not that I'd blame her, the way Artie treated her.

- Artie was abusive? - He was nice as pie at first.

But then after they were married...

...she started wearing long sleeve shirts to the shop to hide the bruises.

Made excuses for how clumsy she was.

My daughter never would have left Jonathan behind with that monster.

I kept the shop going until he took Jonathan...

...and he locked him up in that horrible place.

These are love letters my daughter sent to Artie. I saved them.

Libby kissed the envelopes.

I thought you might want her DNA.

I watch a lot of crime shows.

Thank you, Mrs. Tibbets.

Twelve excessive-force complaints, all involving you using a nightstick.

Liked to use it at home too, didn't you?

You're pissing in the wind, Korsak. You got no weapon, no motive, no DNA.

We've got a bloody piece of white ash wood that I'll bet came from your nightstick.

You're a betting man, right, Artie?

Would you like to also bet that blood came from your missing wife?

Well, if you got that on me, I'd be in cuffs instead of listening to your bullshit.

You gonna arrest me?

That's what I thought.

- Don't hover. DNA processing takes time. - Well, we don't have time.

Faster, Maura. I need something.

You're breathing on me.

I don't believe this.

If that is a text from a vacation club in Acapulco, don't respond. Might be a scam.

Does this look like a scam?

It's from Casey.

He says he wants to meet for drinks tonight at the Dirty Robber.

The test results for the two victims' lipsticks...

- ...and the lipstick on that envelope. - Thank you.

Jane, I might have something.

Libby McMurphy used the same brand of lipstick as our two victims.

I think we just tied Artie to all three murders. Come on. I need you.

I think I know who that 20-year-old blood belongs to.

Nothing?

- Did you find Artie? - No. His sergeant said he called in sick.

No sign of his car or him.

- Barney Miller could have found something. - Yeah, Frost.

Okay, thanks.

Another woman got on a bus today, she didn't make it home.

Oh, God. What can we do?

Artie's been a cop for a long time. He knows we're looking for him.

- He needs a safe place for his kill. - Yeah, but we've torn this house apart.

Wait a minute.

He left his last victim in Egleston Square. His wife's shop was in Egleston Square.

Those old storefronts have been vacant for a long time.

What better place to make your own doll, right? Come on.

- Now! - No. No.

- I'll kill you. I swear I will. - Please don't.

- Will you tell? - It's not Artie. It's Jonathan.

- I won't. Please stop. - Jonathan? Jonathan?

- Put the gun down, Artie. - Jonathan, let her go.

Doctors should've listened to me.

Giving him day passes, trying to integrate him into society.

That bus pass they gave him got two girls killed. He's a monster.

Mommy, tell. You have to tell.

- No! God, no! - I had to stop him. I had to do it.

- Send the EMS in here. Now. - Just stay with me, okay?

What? What did he do to your mom?

He hurt her.

- Where's your mom now? - He said she went on the bus.

- Is that why you've been riding the bus? - I just wanted to find her. And then I did.

Why didn't she tell? I just wanted her to tell what he did to her.

It's over, Jonathan. It's-- I'll tell.

I'll tell.

Korsak. The fireplace.

Cadaver dog didn't find anything.

You knew we were coming to search your house.

Come on, Artie. We're taking you home. Move.

- He started a fire. - To throw off the dog.

- Do it. - You can't do that.

You killed his mother in front of him.

You turned your son into a monster.

She said She said you were dreaming

- Hi. - Hi.

I, uh....

- I'm really glad you wanted to meet me. - Me too.

- So? - So. Heh, heh, heh.

- You wanna get a drink? - Yes. Yes.

And I just....

I just wanna start over.

- Me too. - Start slow.

Okay.

I mean, like, maybe we'd meet once a week for a run.

- A run? - Yeah.

Hell, I'll even take up rollerblading again.

Payback is a bitch.

What?

You were humiliated when I said I didn't wanna see you. I get it.

Is it making you feel better to make me come here and torture me?

- You wanna ski too? - What are you talking about?

I knew I was a fool when I got your note. I was so happy.

Wait, what note? I didn't write you a note.

Yeah?

This is my mother's handwriting.

Yeah. Maybe now you'll understand why I didn't wanna see you.

Penetrating spinal cord injury.

Takes a dime-size piece of shrapnel hitting you in the right place. You happy now?

- Casey, I had no idea. - Now you do.

Wait a minute. Wait. I didn't write this.

But if you would've told me, I would've said the same thing. It doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter.

Rollerblading? Really?

Yeah, well, I do want to see you, though.

- Okay. - I really do.

- Just give me some time, okay? - Okay.

Jane.

Please don't watch me leave.

Okay.

I knew you weren't mean.

How did it go?

I asked him to go rollerblading.

- Shut the front door. You did not. - Oh, yeah, I did.

- Oh, my God. - Think I might have also suggested running.

- Your mother is a dead woman. - Is a dead woman. Yeah.