Original subtitles

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?

Right over here, Lieutenant.

Thank God you're here.

Dylan Reinhart, Lizzie's partner.

David Wu, Jasmine's fianc�.

I just had to go I.D. Abby's body.

Jazz, I'm so sorry. Can you tell us what happened?

Some people at Abby's party kept grabbing at her.

I tried to put a stop to it, she flipped out,

and she went somewhere to calm down.

And after a while, nobody could find her.

Then the valet says she jumped in some random car

and drove away.

Just give us a minute.

Abby Wright stole a car?

And the valet let her do that?

He thought the car was hers.

Jazz, I know you want to be here for Abby,

but you've been through enough today.

We've got this. Go home.

That's an order from your friend.

I'll need hourly updates.

Absolutely.

Came down from up there.

Witnesses say the car

was going way above the speed limit.

Why would Abby Wright steal a car

and go speeding off a bridge?

This is supermodel Beyza looking stunning in couture.

Abby Wright's annual charity auction.

It's the fun fund-raising gala of the year.

Wright is wrong! Wright is wrong!

For the record, I didn't ask you to marry me

because you're friends with the owner of the New York Hudsons,

but it doesn't hurt.

Oh, yeah, I was a baller

when I was ten, networking

with the nerdiest white girl in the Bronx.

Abby Wright's come a long way.

I didn't expect this many protestors.

I did. I love Abby,

but moving an iconic basketball team to another city?

Setting herself up for a world of hate.

Hey.

That guy look odd to you?

Probably part of security detail.

I don't see his earpiece.

Excuse me. I'm NYPD.

Man at 3:00 with a gun.

Six feet, 170 pounds, mid to late 40s.

Where?

He was just there.

We'll check it out.

Come on, Rafferty, will you shoot the thing already?

Yes.

Yes!

Come on.

Go, Hudsons.

Uh, y-yeah, they're not playing, Dylan.

This, uh... this game determines who they play

- in the next round, so... - Oh.

We're pulling for Miami.

Oh, great. Go, Miami.

So, what do you want to do now?

Uh... watch the rest of the game.

Oh. Um...

I'm hungry. Couldn't you record it

and we could watch it when you come back?

Yeah, but if-if I don't watch it live,

then I have no control over what happens.

Oh.

Let's get deeper into that.

Yeah, let's not. Look, I-I know sports

isn't your thing, but it's the playoffs.

As soon as the game is over, I promise

we'll do whatever you want, okay?

Whatever I want?

Ooh.

This must really be an important game.

Get off!

By the way, it's official.

The mayor is boycotting this event.

Such transparent posturing.

When are you gonna make a run?

My PR firm is ready to brand Mayor Jasmine Gooden.

You will be an easy sell.

Do you ever get tired of having

such a perfect husband?

Ms Wright.

- Oh, hello. - Nice to see you. How are you?

Excuse me. Excuse me. Can I get a...

Oh, uh, I'll be back in a minute.

Abby, can I get a selfie?

She's gotta be hating this.

Yeah, she does.

But she's gotten used to it.

Goes with the territory of owning a major sports franchise.

Abby, you okay?

I am so sorry.

Don't touch me!

Everybody just stop touching me!

I'm sorry, I-I was just...

I was just startled.

Why don't we go inside for a minute?

Just cool off?

- All right? - Let's go inside.

Come on.

Is this Abby's bracelet?

Uh, yeah.

I'll get it to her.

Ah.

Boom. Miami pulled it out.

It is so cute how you get so excited

about five men you've never met who chase a ball

for a living.

Yeah, almost as cute as how

your nose crinkles when you patronize me.

You're right.

- That was passive-aggressive. - Uh-huh.

But what with the playoffs and your schedule and mine,

we hardly spend any time together.

And I miss you.

Well, we got the rest of the day,

so... what should we do?

Should we go to the behavioral disorder exhibit?

Oh.

Oh, it's um...

Let me guess. Lizzie?

Mm-hmm.

It's a big case.

It's our lieutenant's friend.

Sh-She says it's bad.

Go.

Came down from up there.

Witnesses say the car was going way above the speed limit.

I was just up at the crash site.

No skids. Possible suicide?

- Wasn't a suicide. - We've been here two seconds.

You can't just know that.

She didn't try to brake.

Suicide is still on the table.

Abby Wright was scrupulous about her image.

If she was suicidal, I highly doubt

she would try to kill herself in such a violently public way.

It looks like there's paint from

at least three different cars on here.

That could have happened any time.

I called Real Time Crime, asking to pull

the 911 calls around the time Abby crashed.

Turns out Abby called.

911. What is your emergency?

You have to help me! He's going to kill me!

Can you give me your location, ma'am?

Ma'am?

Now can we rule out suicide?

Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com

I'm not saying anyone should have killed her.

Clearly wrong, but... "Las Vegas Hudsons"

are three words that do not belong together.

Like "gas station buffet."

It's not just fans. You move a New York team,

you're gonna piss off the business community.

And those guys aren't short on money or power.

Careful, guys. Abby Wright was a good friend of the lieutenant.

Where are we on the guest list?

Calling number 52 right now.

So far, nobody's heard anything, nobody's seen anything.

The only two guarantees in life: death and useless witnesses.

Hey, Lou.

Sorry about your friend.

Thanks.

Harris, did you get those videos I sent?

I was just about to show Lizzie.

Yeah, I've been reviewing red carpet footage

from various news outlets, and so far,

I don't see anyone matching the description

of the guy you saw with the gun.

Send it to me. I'll take a look.

Lieutenant's fianc� recorded part of the party with his phone

right before Abby Wright disappeared.

You see anything abnormal, Doc?

Yeah. There's a guy at the back

stuffing mini eggrolls into his pocket.

Excuse me, can I get a...

Oh, uh, be back in a minute.

Yes, ma'am, it has been

a long time since someone baked me a nice zucchini bread.

Okay.

Yeah, yeah, okay, bye-bye.

- What the hell was that? - The 212 number

that Abby called before she left the party

belongs to a Stella Mitchell.

Retiree, lives alone,

got a wrong number yesterday afternoon.

Do we know if Abby ever dialed that number before?

- I'll check it out. - Thanks.

Forgive the pun, but we are spinning our wheels

until we get an I.D. on one of those cars

that may have hit her.

You are making a lot of assumptions.

And Auto Crimes is backlogged.

- I got a guy. - Department authorized?

No, I'm gonna let you bring murder evidence to a Jiffy Lube.

OBD clocks her doing 80 miles an hour

when she took that curve.

I'm surprised she lasted

as long as she did, considering

how erratically she was driving.

Did the tox screen come back? How drunk was Abby?

- Just got it. Her BAL was almost zero. - Oh.

- Oh! Oh. - Excuse me.

Sorry about that.

- You all right? - Yeah.

Thanks.

Did Abby put an address

into the GPS?

No, uh... but a few minutes into her drive,

she did a full loop around the block.

Probably thought she was being followed

and wanted to confirm it.

That would explain the weaving.

She thought she could lose him?

And when she couldn't, that 911 call

was her last hope.

Any chance he caught up with her?

Did you find evidence of another car?

Found pieces of a rear marker light

in the wheel well.

Matched it to a '69 Mustang.

Some '69 Mustangs have the exact paint color

found on the vehicle.

Grabber Blue.

Grabber Blue?

I know. Sounds like a character Burt Reynolds

played in the '70s.

Or something you'd hear in a Smurfs

sexual harassment deposition.

That's funny.

You're funny.

I gotta say, I'd never use

a sweet vintage ride like that to run somebody off the road.

Maybe the killer wanted Abby to know he was following her.

That's why you're the cop.

Mm, he's not a cop.

Oh. Uh...

Are you guys...?

- No. - No. No.

Let me print out that diagnostics report.

- He's flirting with you. - Oh, he's being nice

because we know Detective Fucci.

Stop being uptight.

I'm not uptight.

Only an uptight person would say that.

Everything about this guy is genuine.

His words are unguarded.

When you talk, he focuses on what you're saying.

His shoulders slouch towards you.

That means he wants to take care of you.

Oh, that's a lovely analysis, Doc,

but I don't need to be taken care of.

We all do.

Once in a while.

It's time you got back out there.

Into the metaphorical field, if you will.

I won't. I'm not ready.

I just buried my fianc�.

Charlie died over a year ago.

Not that time is a factor when it comes to grief, but...

I've been paying attention to you, Detective.

You laugh, you joke.

You want to help other people.

All strong signs of recovering from loss.

- I'll grease the wheels. - No, d-d-don't...

Are you single, Steve?

Asking for a friend.

Is he always this subtle?

Like a monster truck.

I was trying to be professional,

but I think your partner's giving me

the green light to ask you out.

- How about dinner sometime? - She'd love to.

Uh, maybe she would like a say in this.

Uh... Ooh.

Oh.

I'm free tomorrow night.

- Great. Yeah. - Great.

Call you later.

Tomorrow night? You really are a piece of work.

We both know you have dinner plans tomorrow night.

Takeout, at your desk, working on this case.

Well, if I have to cancel, I'll cancel.

It's not a big deal.

What is a big deal is that we have a solid lead.

And we need to work.

A Grabber Blue '69 Mustang?

I don't know anybody with a car like that.

Abby called 911 right before she crashed.

We think someone may have been following her.

Any idea who that could be?

I don't.

Do... do you think they killed her?

We don't know. What we do know is that she was a public figure

getting a lot of negative attention.

A lot of people hated her decision to move the team.

Dealing with Abby's hate mail, hate e-mails, tweets

became a full-time job.

Did that change her in any way?

She seemed more fatigued lately.

Fans were sending bomb threats.

A few tried to get past security.

We'd get dead rats sent to us.

- Ew. - Did you save the hate mail?

- It's all logged and filed. - Great.

We're gonna need to take them to the station.

We'll be in touch.

- Yeah. - Thank you.

Hate mail is usually motivated

by highly charged subjects

like religious or political beliefs.

Matters of such critical importance

to some people that they are defined

by those ideas, but... sports?

Oh, sports fans can be fanatics.

That's why I'd rather play, not watch.

Uh, can you take care of the hate mail without me?

Yeah. Why? Where are you going?

Field research.

It's not what you think.

- I'm not here to judge. - Thanks.

I merely want to observe sports fans' behavior

in their natural environment.

Well, we-we feed the seals at noon.

I'm sorry. That was patronizing.

Um...

This woman was murdered.

- Do you mind? - Sorry.

A woman was murdered, and it's possible her killer

was someone who took his love of sports too far.

Uh-huh. It would be really useful

for me to understand

that sort of homicidal fervor in a more emotional way.

"Homicidal fervor"? What?

Sorry again.

Help me.

I know you. I-I understand everything about you

except your love of sports.

I mean, you walk around wearing a jersey

with another man's name on it.

Okay.

You want to know the dark secret about sports fans?

- Yes. - Get your pen ready now.

- Oh, phonographic memory. - Mm... okay.

- We... we connect with a team. - Mm-hmm.

- We get to know the players. - Mm-hmm.

And we want them to win.

That's all there is to it.

It's more complicated than that.

Yeah, you're right, Dylan, you're right.

Sports are also fun. They're fun.

You know, playing ball with my buddies after school,

it was the best part about growing up.

Soccer hooligans, uh, brawls at games, death threats.

Scientists who study the brains of sports fans

have recently discovered mirror neurons...

I'm not gonna let you ruin sports

with behavioral analysis, all right?

Look, uh...

Okay, okay, let me ask you a question.

If Beethoven and Brahms were contestants

on a music reality show, who would you root for?

- Hmm? - Well, it wouldn't matter.

Because music would win.

- Oh... - Classical music

contributes to the cultural zeitgeist.

Sports are for people with misplaced aggression.

Let me guess... you're sorry.

...going on and on like this is the most tragic death

New York City has seen since John Lennon,

ignoring the fact that she wasn't one of us.

I don't care if she was born in the Bronx.

The moment she even thought

- of moving our team... - Excuse me. Who is that?

- ...she was no longer a New Yorker. - The mayor of Hudsons Nation.

- Does His Honor have a name? - Tomahawk.

It's his podcast.

Look at all these articles.

The same newspapers that criticized her...

The Abby Wright party.

I know that voice.

Pull up that video of the waiter.

Wait. That's him.

That's the guy.

I remember that waiter. Total slacker.

I asked him for a drink three times.

He's all over social media.

Name is Tom Sarkeysian.

Let's see what else this attention seeker overshared.

Oh. Is that a mooning?

Two Toronto players. Yeah.

Not at all unusual to expose one's gluteus maximus

to multimillionaires.

So, he snuck into the party to get to Abby Wright?

Not only did he sneak in, but look what he drives.

'69 Mustang, Grabber Blue.

What a coincidence.

Pick his ass up.

I want to interrogate him myself.

So, Tomahawk sneaks into a private event

so he can scare a tough-as-nails CEO

into stealing a car in order to frighten her enough

to run her off the road?

I wouldn't exactly call it airtight.

Might not make behavioral sense,

but he snuck in, her car went off the road,

he drives a '69 Mustang, and she has the paint

of a '69 Mustang on hers.

Those are facts.

Um, you're single, ready to date,

a hot guy asks you out, and you choose a night

you know you won't be free. Those are facts, too.

My personal life has nothing to do with this.

I gave him my number. He hasn't called.

He will. I'm merely stating that facts and behavior

often contradict one another.

As much as Tomahawk may have hated what Abby was doing,

he made a living from it, so why kill her?

He's a testosterone-fueled sports bro,

pissed that she's moving his team.

Maybe he took his aggression too far.

Uh, testosterone does not cause aggression.

It triggers whatever behavior

helps a person maintain his or her status.

Sometimes the facts don't add up.

And sometimes they do.

Excuse me.

Can I help you?

NYPD. Is Tom Sarkeysian home?

They think we can't remember

everything they printed last week?

And the week before?

That's just his act.

When he's not in podcast mode,

he's just Tom, and he's really sweet.

Can you let us in, please?

Yeah.

Only a wack job would think about moving a team

from New York City to a desert wasteland like Vegas.

If someone ran her off the road like the cops suspect...

- Tommy. - ...you don't give them jail time.

You give them a ticker-tape parade.

- Tommy! - Oh, what the frick?

Tawny, you're gonna mess up my tracks.

No, we are.

How did you get into

Abby Wright's party yesterday?

Since we know you're not a waiter.

What did you do, Tom?

Uh, I paid a guy a few bucks to borrow his waiter uniform.

You actually went through with that?

- I thought you were joking. - I-I just wanted

to ask Abby Wrong a few questions for my podcast.

Catch her off guard, record her lies.

The fans deserve to hear from her.

Is that why you followed her in your car

and tried to force her off the road?

What? What do I look like, a psychopath?

- If the podcast fits. - Okay, look,

just because I said I thought she should die

doesn't mean I wanted her dead.

We found pieces of your rear marker light

in the wheel well of her SUV.

That's who hit me!

You think Abby Wright swiped you?

Where were you parked?

99th and Lex.

Don't go anywhere until we check that out. Got it?

Got it.

Hey, is it too late

to file a police report?

I'm just saying, just because she's dead

doesn't mean her insurance

shouldn't cover the damages.

- Uh-uh. - Mm-hmm.

99th and Lex,

parked where Tomahawk said it was.

Oh, here's Abby.

If she wasn't drunk, what was making her drive like that?

Hey, Jazz, Tomahawk was telling the truth.

We just saw Abby sideswipe three cars.

You're kidding.

Is that Abby? Yes.

She's going back the same way she came.

Wait. Where'd that guy come from?

Get the plate number.

The car belongs to Uri Minkus.

Oh, my God.

- That's him. - That's who?

The guy I was talking about, outside the party.

The one with a gun.

And breathe into

a strong Warrior Two.

Stretch forward, and into Triangle. Look up.

I thought I asked you to come later.

I'm on a job.

I'm sorry if our trying to find a killer

interrupts your spandex safari.

Why were you following Abby Wright?

That's what her husband hired me to do.

Russell Wright hired you?

- Yes. - To chase his wife

to her death?

I stopped following her

long before she drove off the bridge.

I got stuck behind some moron who didn't have his E-ZPass.

Why did Russell Wright hire you to follow Abby?

He didn't say. I didn't care.

It's not my job to find out why.

Now, if you don't mind, the class is over.

- I need to get moving on my new job. - Namaste.

The P.I.'s story checked out.

Camera at the toll plaza shows him getting jammed up

in the E-ZPass lane.

So we're at another dead end.

Damn it! Abby called 911,

terrified that someone was trying to kill her,

and then she drives off a bridge, and we are nowhere.

If it wasn't the podcast guy or the gun-toting P.I.,

- then who was it? - I don't know.

Yet. I'm sorry.

Abby needs me, and I'm failing her.

No. I know things aren't happening

as quickly as we'd like, but we'll get there.

Russell asked me to speak at Abby's memorial service.

Reliving all of those childhood memories,

I should be sad.

But I can't get past angry.

We're gonna find who did it.

I promise.

Anything in the hate mail?

Not yet.

I finished going through Abby's phone.

That 212 number...

no record of Abby calling it before.

Can someone run a dump on their house phone?

On it.

- What 212 number? - Right here.

It's the number Abby dialed

right before leaving the party.

This makes no sense.

Her mother's been dead for years.

Her mother?

This was Abby's home number growing up.

I probably dialed it 60 times a day when we were kids.

You said Abby was in a state of anxiety when you saw her last.

Yeah, I saw her for a few minutes when she went inside.

She was a lot calmer,

and then she asked me and Russell

to give her a few minutes alone.

I'll be in my office if anything comes to you.

Needham.

Oh, good. You?

Oh, it's fine.

Shen Downtown? Yeah, I know it.

Me, too. Bye.

- Shen, huh? - Hmm?

What happened there? Pad Thai massacre?

Dim sum execution?

My finely honed detective skills tell me

that Detective Needham has a date.

- A date! It's about time. - Ooh!

- Good for you, Lizzie. - It's not a big deal.

This case is my top priority.

I can cancel.

I didn't find the 212 number in the house phone records,

but there was a 911 call from seven weeks ago.

Found a police report.

The Wrights had a break-in.

Russell didn't mention that.

Or the P.I.

- What was taken? - Not a thing.

The housekeeper, uh, Sofia Gutierrez, called it in.

The Wrights asked the cops not to pursue it.

You talked to the housekeeper?

Responding officers didn't even get to talk to her.

By the time they got to the scene, she was gone.

Never came back to work... after eight years of service.

Our housekeeper, Sofia.

Yeah, that whole thing was bizarre.

Did you not pursue it because you...

you were protecting her?

A few of Abby's, uh, knickknacks were missing.

Um, Sofia's undocumented.

She has kids.

If she was desperate enough to steal,

we didn't want to make her life any harder.

How much were they worth?

Uh, I don't know.

Thousand dollars, tops.

What about the P.I. you hired

to follow your wife?

I would have mentioned it, but he didn't see anything.

But you did hire Uri Minkus to follow your wife?

Yes.

But not to spy on Abby.

To... to protect her.

The threats against Abby were getting out of hand,

and she didn't want a bodyguard.

I was scared for her.

I didn't know how else to keep my wife safe.

You need to tell us these things, please.

I'm sorry. I'm not thinking straight.

I-I should have told you. I'm sorry.

We're gonna need that housekeeper's information.

Uh... but please don't do anything to Sofia.

She's a, uh... she's a good person.

We just want to talk to her.

Why would a housekeeper

put eight years in a secure job in jeopardy

for less than a thousand dollars?

Maybe she needed the money ASAP.

Hi. I'm Detective Needham.

This is my partner.

We need to talk with Sofia.

She's not here.

Where can we find her?

It's important.

We need to speak to her about Abby Wright.

Uh, uh...

my daughter's gone forever.

What do you mean, "gone"? Is she still alive?

Uh, she's gone back to El Salvador.

When did she leave?

Uh...

about two weeks ago.

"About"?

You don't know the exact day

your daughter left the country?

She's not really gone, is she?

Go away, please.

They'll find out.

Who's "they"?

Please go!

- Thanks. - The housekeeper's mother couldn't

get rid of us fast enough. She was terrified.

So the housekeeper's in the wind.

Do we have a photo I.D. of her?

No, but we're trying to get a photo from Russell,

and we have a few unis canvassing her neighborhood.

Somebody always knows something.

Find her. We need to know what she knows.

We also need to know what you know.

Excuse me?

You and Abby were friends.

She had a dynamic reputation, but in the last year,

she decides to move a beloved New York sports franchise,

she causes a scene and bolts out of her own party,

her housekeeper disappears.

Is that typical of the person you knew?

No, until you consider all the stress she'd been under.

How well did you know Abby?

Are you interrogating Lieutenant Gooden?

It's fine.

If it leads to somewhere, I'm happy to talk.

We were tight as kids.

We didn't get together a lot these last few years,

but when we did, we just clicked.

Like no time had passed.

What happened those past few years?

She'd been busier.

Stressed, a little less focused.

She didn't return my e-mails as much.

And I guess she was a little more guarded,

but again, the press was hounding her 24-7.

I'm sure I'd be the same way.

What way was that?

Different.

- Can you make a statement? - Abby, have you come to an agreement?

After several rounds of challenging negotiations,

our games will continue to be aired on the Hudsons Network

without an added cost to subscribers.

This is a great way to start the season.

- Go, Hudsons. - That was three years ago,

around the time that Jasmine says

they started hanging out less frequently.

Confident, commanding.

Nothing stands out.

Try something more recent.

Uh, two years ago, after they won the second round.

Yes, this is a big win, but we still have two rounds to go.

We won, Abby!

Have some champagne!

Can somebody get me a towel?

She's on edge, agitated.

Seems odd after a playoff win.

One month ago, owner's conference.

Fans are guaranteed to see their team play.

They are not, howev... uh...

She's a shadow of herself.

Withdrawn, camera-shy.

- Different. - But we cannot promise

that certain players will play.

That is at the dissection...

the-the dissec...

the discretion of the head coach.

Did you see that hand tremor?

Easily agitated.

Physical tremors.

Difficulty speaking. Do you think it's possible

Abby was ill and didn't tell anyone?

Not even her husband?

I'll request her medical records.

Uh...

in the meantime,

any other theories?

You're asking me for more theories?

You're normally begging me to keep them to myself.

Maybe I gave your theories short shrift.

Tell me, what else could cause Abby's behavior,

apart from illness?

Well, sustained stress

can lead to hormonal and physiologic...

Oh, oh.

Very clever.

What? You're stalling.

You think, if you get caught up at work,

you can use it as an excuse not to go on your date.

Frankly, I am insulted that you think I would fall for that.

I'm not stalling. It's just a date.

I can do it anytime.

And we need to get Abby's medical records tonight.

Not to mention, we still haven't found that housekeeper.

We'll put in the request. And we got unis

canvassing the housekeeper's neighborhood in Queens.

It's about time you got back in the game, Needham.

Take it easy on him.

And maybe use some of that stuff

that makes your lips look fat.

Oh, yeah, 'cause I really want to look

like your favorite blow-up doll.

- Oh... - If he tries to kiss you good night,

maybe don't knee him in the groin.

Ooh.

Nothing from you, Doc?

Just be yourself.

Only less uptight.

Thanks.

I'll do my best.

But the rapids in Costa Rica were my favorite.

You ever been white-water rafting?

No. Sounds fun, though.

Well, what'd you do for your last vacation?

Uh, it's been a while since I've had a vacation.

- I-I work a lot. - Okay.

So, what do you do for fun?

For fun? I'm... not sure.

Um, work. I'm sorry.

My, um, dating small talk muscle is a bit rusty.

It-it's okay.

There's no pressure.

And that wasn't small talk.

Hmm?

Kidding.

Our signature roll, on the house.

- Thanks. - Thank you.

You don't eat sushi?

Are... are you vegan? I should've asked.

No, I love sushi. I... It's, uh...

Well, I used to. Um...

There's a story behind that.

No, just, uh...

It's-it's something that happened at work.

Never mind. Um...

I would love to hear about your job.

What happened?

Take it to the hole!

What is a Brahms-loving guy like you

doing in a "misplaced aggression" joint like this?

More work?

No. Well, yes.

Relationship work.

For starters, I have brushed up on my basketball.

Or "b-ball," if you will.

Yeah, suck it, New York!

- Brave guy. - Yeah, or stupid.

Andy, I am so sorry about what I said before.

It hurts my brain that I can understand you

on an intellectual level but not an emotional one.

Maybe that's okay.

You know, a little mystery can be a good thing, and...

I can't have this argument with you

every time there's a game on.

I know, it's just that when I think

about how sports is such a big part of your life,

- I feel... - Embarrassed?

- Look, I know I'mnot as smart as... - Jealous.

Growing up, I needed to believe

that sports were a waste of time.

I was the awkward kid.

You? No.

I never got picked for any teams.

Hey.

I picked you for my team.

- Oh! - Oh, my God!

Ow. Look, just be yourself, okay?

These guys aren't too picky.

Just, uh, maybe lose the hat.

Wrong team?

No, no, you-you look ridiculous.

- Thank God. - All right.

Oh, this was a sex worker

that a guy set on fire. Total meth head.

Have you ever tried to have a conversation

with someone high on meth?

Can't say that I have.

How's your food?

Oh, good. Uh...

Oh, this guy, he was shot at point-blank range.

Have you ever seen into a human head like that?

You're not hungry?

Huh? Oh, no, no.

It's great.

Oh, sorry.

Taru. That's a Finnish name.

Isn't it?

Oh, TARU's not a person.

It's the Technical Assistance Response Unit.

Think of them as like the computer nerds of the NYPD.

Sorry. Last one, I promise.

Lizzie, your head clearly isn't here right now,

and I don't want to hold you back from your work.

No, I'm fine, really.

Let's call it a night.

Do you mind?

Did you just push me?

Let it go, Justin.

You're missing the game.

Go, go, go, go, go, go, go! Damn it.

Hey, ref! Go back to Foot Locker!

While you're there, pick up some knee pads.

You're blowing the game.

Contact was initiated before his feet were set.

The foul was defensive, not offensive.

The ref made the right call.

What's offensive is the stupidity of you saying that.

- It's one game out of 82. - And only 82.

No way you guys are making the playoffs.

Hey, what'd you just say?

Come on, say it to my face.

I'll shorten it.

New York sucks.

Nah-uh. Not in my bar.

Hey, hey, calm down.

Relax, buddy.

Relax, or you're going out.

All right.

Hypoxia is oxygen starvation.

It deprives the brain of oxygen-rich blood.

This can lead to confusion, difficulty with speech

and lack of coordination.

Hey, let him go.

For the record, they didn't start

acting like zoo animals until you got here.

How's your head?

My head's fine.

It's Abby's we need to look at.

You think Abby was suffering from traumatic brain injury?

- The M.E. just confirmed it. - Like what football players get?

- Uh-huh. - Did she have a history of concussions?

No, but she had a history of odd behavior,

difficulty interpreting touch.

That's why she had that mini-meltdown at the party

when everyone was grabbing at her.

Mm-hmm. She also struggled with words,

impulsiveness, aggression.

She was being choked.

You think someone choked Abby at the party?

Most likely before the party.

And the week before that, and the month before that.

Russell was choking Abby?

But there weren't any bruises on her neck.

You wouldn't see any external bruising

if she was choked with an arm.

There's more surface area spread across the skin,

and so less direct pressure on a single point.

If Abby didn't die from the car crash,

it was only a matter of time

before she died from her TBI.

Russell killed her.

You can't just come out and say something like that.

You have to be sure.

She spent last night at TARU.

What happened to your date?

She was more interested

in her phone than her date.

Not exactly.

TARU kept texting with questions,

so I went over there to look

through Abby's phone and computer.

Three years ago, Russell installed malware on her laptop.

Might be the reason she wasn't answering your e-mails.

She may never have got them.

He wanted to fracture

her relationships and spy on her.

Control her.

She was enduring his abuse for years.

I would have seen it.

I wouldn't miss something like this.

Oh, Russell and Abby worked very hard

to keep it a secret... for very different reasons.

I kept telling her that she had the perfect husband.

No wonder she couldn't tell me.

Her recent behavior makes more sense now.

Years of abuse, feeling like a prisoner.

It's probably why she thought about moving her team.

She was subconsciously trying to escape from her own life.

Same reason she called her childhood number.

She was safe back then.

Just dialing it gave her a moment of comfort.

I also found a bunch of texts

between Abby and her housekeeper.

The number's not in service anymore, but it seems

like they really cared for each other.

Then why stage a break-in,

steal from her and then disappear?

Why make a house look disheveled?

Unless it was already disheveled.

Unless you're trying to cover it up.

Maybe she didn't.

Maybe there was no break-in at all.

Maybe Russell attacked Abby

before they left for work that day.

And the housekeeper called the cops,

hoping they'd put it together and help Abby.

She double-crossed Russell by calling the cops,

which is why she knew she could never come back.

But what I don't understand is what made Abby run

from her own party.

You said you and Russell were the last people

to see her before she left.

Did he do or say anything before you left Abby alone?

Yeah, I heard part of their conversation

when I returned Abby's bracelet, but it was benign.

What exactly do you remember?

She apologized for lashing out.

He said it was embarrassing for him

and that they'd deal with it at home.

That's it.

That's why she ran.

That's no normal husband-wife conversation.

"Deal with it at home"?

He was warning her.

But if he attacked her so many times before,

then why run that day?

How often does a domestic abuse victim

get a two-hour warning before her next attack?

Abby knew what was coming, and she couldn't face it.

We gotta get this son of a bitch.

I can't wait for the unis to finish their canvassing.

We have to find that housekeeper now.

Tell me where Sofia is.

This feels a lot like blackmail.

Your word, not mine.

You're threatening to arrest me

if I don't give you information.

We have video of you following Abby.

She was driving recklessly to get away from you.

Criminally negligent homicide is a felony.

Look, you're reaching.

I was nowhere near her when she crashed.

No jury will ever convict me for that.

Maybe, but do you really want to spend

a year in court fighting the charges?

You were Russell's fixer.

We both know he threatened that housekeeper.

Just tell me where she is.

Okay, I will tell you where she is.

But one day, I may need some help from you.

Okay, Don Corleone.

I know Sofia is here.

Please, I need to speak with her.

And I've already told you no.

We are a sanctuary church.

I don't care about her legal status.

I'm homicide, not ICE.

I'm sorry, Detective. It's too risky.

Risky?

Sofia is hiding out here

because a man threatened to have her deported.

I'm here because I want to arrest that man.

The housekeeper confirmed it wasn't the first time

she saw the Wrights' house turned upside down.

She called hoping the cops would show up

and figure out Russell was hurting Abby.

Just as you suspected. Gets better.

She actually recorded Russell yelling at Abby,

but she was too afraid to use it against him till now.

Hi. Good news?

As a matter of fact, we do.

You're under arrest for the murder of Abby Wright.

Is that a joke?

Who is accusing me of murder?

Abby.

Or at least her body is accusing you.

You people are ridiculous.

Her autopsy showed that she was being choked

over a long period of time.

Which was slowly destroying her brain.

That's what caused her to drive off that bridge.

Uh-huh.

Don't you touch me.

I-I was nothing but good to her.

She-she's the one that acted out all the time.

You have the right to remain silent.

This is slander. My lawyer will sue you for everything you got.

Anything you say can and will be held against you

- in a court... - You think you can do this to me?

Or what? You gonna hit me?

Sorry to interrupt.

Sorry?

Thank God you're here.

Take all the time you need.

I'm gonna get some water.

Let me call a doctor.

Thanks.

Why are you hitting Sergeant Harris?

He's the only one who'll get in here with me.

- Brave and stupid. - Did hell freeze over?

You're wearing a sports jersey. Who's Wilson?

Andy. That's his last name.

- He gave it to me. - Hmm.

It's nice to be part of a team.

Oh, I'm so glad you're finally focusing

on your own love life instead of interfering with mine.

I'd love to get you on the mat

after pressuring me to go on that date.

- Oh, come on. - That poor guy.

You weren't there.

- It wasn't as bad as you think. - I-I...

I grossed him out. I humiliated myself.

You feel bad because you care what he thinks.

Right? And you went out because

deep down, you care about having another relationship.

And you acted the way you did at the restaurant because...

I care about making a fool of myself?

Oh, maybe.

The point is... you care.

And that means you're ready.

To try at least.

Maybe.

There are a lot of Russells out there.

And there are a lot of Andys, too.

And do you think I would let you get involved with a man

before I had analyzed every single aspect of his behavior?

Oh, if that's supposed to make me feel better...

I am right about Hot Mechanic. I am.

Just... so just... just call him.

Apologize. Ask for a second chance.

Leave it alone.

Lizzie, your whole life

- can't just be about work. - You're wasting your energy.

Why? Because you're a workaholic?

Nope. Because I already called him and apologized.

Wh-What? You did?

The kicker... he thought it was sexy that I, um...

I'm passionate about my work, and he just felt really bad

that he was keeping me from my job.

- No. - We're going out tonight.

What?

Elizabeth Needham.

Mm-hmm.

Good for you.

Not so uptight.

Not at all.

This time, though, just, you know,

keep the crime scene photos to yourself.

Ooh.

It worked the first time.

Everything works the first time.

Ooh, that's good.

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