Original subtitles

Previously on iZombie...

Is that the dominatrix case?

You're prosecuting Weckler?

Strange case.

He confessed even though you didn't have much hard evidence.

The cure works, my memory is back.

Turns out Blaine's been lying this whole time.

He never lost his memory?

There's a batch waiting at the morgue.

I can barely even remember what being human is like.

Liv.

The syringes... They're gone.

I gave you a syringe a few weeks back.

It's the last one, and we need it for Liv. Do you have it with you?

I gave it to someone.

To whom?

I gave the cure to Natalie.

I'm so sorry.

Who's Natalie?

Major's zombie hooker friend.

Liv...

No. I'm sorry.

That's not fair. It doesn't matter what she was.

I thought there were another 16 doses.

I was just trying to save her.

This is Blaine's fault, not yours.

If he hadn't been faking this memory loss,

I would've taken the cure months ago.

Now that rat bastard has stolen the rest of the doses.

The thief may not be Blaine.

Don E. Just offered me $50,000 for a dose of the cure.

He said some zombie offered him 100 grand.

It's Blaine.

And if I find him,

I will beat a confession out of him.

Liv.

He's still got his regular singing gig tonight.

Peyton.

Look, I don't think this hot mess brain has completely worn off.

This is me, Ravi.

This is me controlling my anger.

But I can just picture him.

Smug.

Pleased with himself.

King of the world.

♪ Oh I can't just the thought of you

♪ My love

♪ Oh

Yeah?

What do you know?

Huh?

Up, scum.

Pretty sure that's the anger controlling you.

You've got the wrong guy.

Please Liv, let him go.

Deep breaths, Liv.

Deep breaths.

You're a murderer.

A drug dealer.

A con artist. A thief.

And a midnight toker.

But I didn't steal your doses of the cure.

Any idea where we can find Don E.?

We're presently estranged.

Took your lunch money too, buddy?

We should go, Liv.

Yeah, sure.

♪ Cause I'm happy

♪ And hope you're happy too

♪ Together we're never sad or blue

That's better. There you go.

Yay!

All right!

Yay!

Good friends, they talk out their feelings, Dante.

I thought they just breathe fire on each other?

No they don't just breath fire.

So why don't you try it.

Why don't you share what you're feeling.

Well...

I feel happy.

Because Ms. Eleanor is bringing out the milk.

So...

- How'd she do today? - Well...

She had a hard time sharing her Legos, didn't she?

But we figured that out...

Parent-teacher conference, my ass!

You two were S-C-R-E-W-I-N-G.

Can you calm down, Piper?

There are children!

Yeah? Did you come to breast feed them all?

Is that why your boobs are half out? No.

You came all tarted up to the pick-up circle

because you are banging my boyfriend.

I found your panties under his bed.

Mommy, look. These panties just like yours.

You?

This is not a discussion for a school yard.

Let's all move along.

Mr. Brennan.

Can I see you in my office?

Somebody must've hated this guy.

The medical examiners haven't arrived, yet?

I haven't seen them.

Here they are.

Well our long national nightmare is over.

Why is she still blonde?

What happened? The cure didn't work?

It was stolen. Can we talk about it later?

Ew!

This is Jamie Brennan. Thirty-two years old. Preschool teacher.

Carpentry accident?

I was thinking of ruling it a homicide.

No forced entry. Victim likely knew his killer.

Sheets were stolen from his bed.

Appears to be a crime of passion.

You think?

I mean, one nail in the head

could be a financial dispute. But the bonus 13 nails?

Someone was irked.

Guys at that construction site across the street

tell us they're missing a nail gun.

My theory?

Jamie's night started romantic in the bedroom,

then things went south.

Killer left angry, went across the street,

found the nail gun.

Came back and popped Jamie when he answered the door.

Hey, you think we can get the killer's height

from the angle of the nails?

Sure, if you can tell me which of the 14 nails went in first.

What can you tell me about STD 36?

Nothing. But only because STD number one

taught me some hard lessons.

Don't look at me.

Why do you ask?

Something? Nothing?

I can think of one way we can figure it out.

Who me?

This is the right room, isn't it?

Shut the door!

The guinea pig got out.

Don't worry. I'll help find him.

I'm really good at finding things.

What are you good at?

I'm sorry?

Detective Babineaux is really good at asking people questions.

As a matter of fact,

he's got some questions to ask right now.

Oh, of course. I'm sorry.

The kids are reeling from Jamie's death

and I don't think they would be able to take losing Choochie Bean too.

I'm sure my colleague will locate the guinea pig, Mrs. Zelinsky.

Now, what can you tell us about Jamie?

He was the best teacher I've ever observed.

Did Jamie have any enemies that you know of?

I was afraid you'd ask that.

Jamie was...

Mrs. Zelinsky,

don't you know police officers are your friends?

I know they are!

Jamie was a womanizer.

Every year he had affairs with the mothers in his class.

This year alone, he was seeing

three of the students' mothers.

You said three?

Do you know who these three women were?

Hi, Piper, I'm Liv Moore.

Detective Babineaux's friend from the M.E.'s office.

Do you know why we asked you to come on down here today?

To talk about Jamie.

That's correct!

It's our understanding that you were dating Jamie.

And that you had a nasty fight with him yesterday.

I thought Jamie and I were exclusive.

Then I found Macy Stonem's panties under his bed.

Is that why I'm here?

Did that bitch point the finger at me?

Hands on top. Everybody stop.

Hands on top, guys.

What is this? What is she doing?

What I'm doing is giving you a time out.

Because what you're doing is being unkind.

It's okay to be mad, Piper.

Something terrible has happened.

But using bad words isn't going to help anything.

What made you think the panties were Macy's?

Bup! Bup, bup, bup.

I'm sorry, Clive. Piper's on a time out.

When the big hand is on the 11 she can answer you.

- I'm giving her a pass. - But I...

The panties?

Apparently, they might be Eleanor's.

She came out of nowhere.

I still think they're Macy's,

because she used to be a dancer

and there were ballet slippers on them.

Macy is married with kids,

and she just walks around wearing a lycra halter top

like every day is a Vegas bachelorette party.

Macy's married?

So is Eleanor.

Super classy, right?

Don't forget to ask Piper about her alibi.

I was at home all night with my kid,

he had a stomach bug.

Is there an adult who can corroborate your whereabouts?

I'm a single parent.

I'm on my own.

I thought Jamie was going to change that.

I thought I was finally dating a nice guy for once.

He listened to my voice like

it was the only sound in the universe.

You know, I told Macy I was falling in love with him.

And she screwed him anyway.

Because she was bored.

She wasn't so great.

We've got orders stacking up.

It's time to make the donuts.

What's it all about, Candy?

Well, I think today is about collecting

125 grand in brain fees.

Blaine?

You care if I take the rest of the day off.

When have I ever cared what you do?

It doesn't make sense.

A man living paycheck to paycheck,

doesn't pay a dominatrix 500 in cash.

And despite his many arrests,

my client has no history of violence.

Too many details don't add up in this case.

Ms. Charles?

I understand your client's income

isn't ideal for paying sex workers in cash,

but sound decision making

isn't exactly his strong suit, is it?

For example, when Ms. Greer

caught him stealing her memory card,

Weckler's solution was to strangle her.

I know this because he confessed to it.

Glad you brought up the confession.

Were you aware that Mr. Weckler has

a history of mental illness.

I'm liking my chances getting that confession tossed out.

And without it, your case is flimsy.

Mr. Weckler used the BDSM footage

he stole from the dominatrix dungeon

to extort money from a local news anchor.

I believe the jury will find his critical thinking skills

fully functional.

Now, if Weckler wants to cough up that memory card

I might consider reducing charges.

I would love to make that happen.

But Weckler's been fighting me on the memory card.

I'd be happy to join the fight.

Does tomorrow afternoon work?

Baracus doesn't mind us raiding his pantry?

He told us to.

Ooh.

Rare hot sauces from around the world.

Stuff we can't afford.

Sir.

Mr. Future Mayor.

Mr. Alternate Reality Mayor, maybe.

I'm down 15 points.

Anymore intel on the gun-toting, Internet crazies?

Same as before, still heavily armed.

Still out to get anyone rescued from

Max Rager's basement.

Well, that is a bummer.

Goodnight, gentlemen.

- Night. - Night.

I hope both those plates are for you.

I already ate.

You hear the rumor about a zombie speakeasy?

Zack swears it's true.

- He's leading an expedition there tomorrow night. - Yeah.

He wants us to go with.

Okay.

Mmm.

Dude, this sauce is Tibetan.

Have the Tibetan people ever let you down?

Never.

Come on man. Just try it.

Nah, really, man. I'm full.

You're full?

Or you're human?

When I took you to Ravi and Liv,

when you were in bad shape.

They talked about giving you a cure.

Yeah, I'm human.

Oh.

But I don't want that to change anything.

I can't believe there's a cure...

- How is that even possible? - It's not anymore.

Look, Ravi engineered it with tainted Utopium

that he can't replicate.

And the only 15 doses of the cure

that we had left, were stolen.

Hmm, okay...

So, is doing mercenary work a good idea for you?

There'll be plenty of jobs where you don't get shot.

Not after you're accused of being a serial killer.

There's nowhere else I'd rather be than

at Fillmore-Graves.

Nowhere.

You planning on telling anyone else?

Any of our superiors?

They'd kick me out.

Yeah.

Think you can keep this between us?

Yeah, your secret's safe with me, man.

By the time Piper told me she was falling for Jamie,

I'd been sleeping with him for months.

I didn't have the heart to tell her.

But I wasn't about to end my arrangement with Jamie.

The sex was incredible.

And the pillow talk, well...

No one listened quite like Jamie.

So we've heard.

Listening es muy importante.

You can learn something new every day if you listen.

Like the verb to listen in Spanish. Escuchar.

Jamie's time of death was between

10:00 p.m. and midnight. Where were you?

At home with Will, that's my husband.

So you know, when we confirm your whereabouts

with your husband,

we'll have to let him know

about your relationship with Jamie.

Will's in the waiting room right now,

if you want to talk to him.

My wife and I were at home the night of the murder.

The usual, dinner, put the kids to bed.

I'm afraid I have to break some bad news to you...

Remember, none of this is your fault, buddy.

But you and Macy are persons of interest

in this case because Macy

was having an affair with Jamie.

Of course. I wondered why you wanted to talk to me.

Did Macy not tell you?

My wife and I have an open relationship.

I knew all about her thing with Jamie.

Hell, a lot of the time, I'd watch them

from the closet.

The closet's right next to the bed so, I...

Quiet coyote!

I don't understand.

Ears open, mouth closed, stop, listen and learn.

I think we have all the information we need.

Mr. Weckler, you confessed to the murder of Roxanne Greer.

And you were caught blackmailing

TV personality Johnny Frost.

As long as you retain that memory card,

a key piece of evidence,

the potential for blackmail remains.

Ms. Charles has offered a fair plea deal, James.

I'm urging you to take it.

That memory card is the only thing keeping me alive.

Wait, what do you mean by that?

Harry?

Ms. Charles.

Excuse me a moment while I talk to my client.

Excuse me, Harry.

This is my client.

Mr. Thorne?

You're fired.

Mr. Thorne's my lawyer now.

Ms. Charles, a word?

What's the offer on the table?

Murder two and blackmail.

Thirty years if he pleas out.

When James hands over the memory card,

I'll drop the blackmail charge and knock 10 years off.

We're good with murder two and blackmail.

The memory card in question doesn't exist.

Good doing business with you.

Guard. You can take my client back to County.

I thought Jamie and I were in love.

I thought I was the only one.

To have an affair...

This isn't something I do.

My husband travels for months at a time on a fishing boat.

On a fishing boat?

How exciting?

Can you think of another job where a person would work on a boat?

Stop.

My husband, he works really hard,

he doesn't have time to hear my problems...

But Jamie... I could tell him anything.

Most people just hear, Jamie...

He really listened.

Yeah. Seems like Jamie had listening down to a fine art.

Eleanor.

The night Jamie was murdered,

where were you between 10:00 p.m. and midnight?

Greg just got back from a trip.

We were home watching movies.

Okay. We have to confirm that with your husband.

Meaning, we have to tell him about the affair.

Is that really necessary?

I mean, can't you just confirm that I was with him?

I'm sorry. We need to clear him as a suspect, too.

Don't worry, Eleanor.

Greg will vouch for you!

He loves you!

Ellie was at home with me that night.

All night.

Why do you need to know where Ellie was the night

my kid's teacher was killed?

Mr. McKenna, I'm sorry to have to tell you this,

but Eleanor was having an affair with Jamie.

Me so horny!

Come on, Zack. Your source was messing with you.

There's no such thing as a zombie speakeasy.

He swore to me. Booze. Ladies.

This is it!

There's no sign.

That's how you know it's cool!

Let's go!

It's locked.

I can hear music.

Eat it.

Dude.

That's a ghost pepper.

A million Scoville heat units.

Ah.

All right, come on. Let's do it.

Here we go.

All right big man. Come on, let's go.

Here. Here.

Yowza! Whoo!

That'll wake you up.

Time to party, Grandmaster Justin.

Tina Major-ino!

Time to clear those sinuses!

Argh.

Major!

You found the place!

Dino, this guy is cool.

We go way back!

Welcome to my club!

I can't believe this place!

Who's down for cerebellum on a half skull.

This establishment serves cruelty-free brains.

I wonder who all these zombies are.

They definitely don't work for Fillmore-Graves.

There you go, boys.

Deep-fried goodness.

Blooming brain!

Eat that brain like nobody's watching you.

We're with our people!

Any zombies in the house tonight?

Whoo!

Zombie compadres!

They have zombie girls here

with whom you can purchase time!

Thank you, Lord!

Who's gonna float me 200 bucks?

Follow me, lads, once more into the breaches.

You don't have to sit here for me.

- Go. - No, man.

It's a point of pride that I don't pay for sex.

- Yeah? - Yeah.

Listen, there's no good way to ask this

so I'm just gonna put it out there.

Okay.

Liv?

Hey, you dead bitches!

Are we having fun yet?

Whooo!

Don E. Runs a zombie bar?

He doesn't exactly give off an upper-management vibe.

I'd say more of a huffed paint at critical developmental stages vibe.

The place is wall-to-wall undead.

Where did all these new zombies come from?

And where's Don E. Getting brains to feed them all?

I'll ask him

when I ask him about those stolen doses of the cure.

You're going down there by yourself?

The place is full of rowdy, boozed-up, horny zombies.

And frankly, you're not at peak bad-ass on preschool teacher brain.

You see the potential in everyone.

You told me I could be an astronaut

if I studied hard enough.

Me, too!

We don't all want to be astronauts, Liv.

The point is, you could be.

Or firemen.

Or the President.

You could take Justin.

He's already been there and he knows how to handle himself.

Also, he asked my permission to court you.

He did?

Maybe you should explain my boyfriend history to him.

It is sort of like being the drummer for Spinal Tap.

We were all thinking it.

I'll be fine on my own.

What's gonna work? Teamwork!

What's gonna work? Teamwork!

You told me we were a team, Jamie.

So, yeah, I got the impression you were my boyfriend.

You seriously won't let me in?

Piper, you have to go home.

I'm sorry I caused a scene.

Okay? Just, please, let's talk about it.

Good stuff?

Okay. Justin can come with me to the Scratching Post.

I need to find Clive.

Why do I feel like I'm in trouble?

Did you tell us everything

the first time we talked to you, Piper?

Because a witness puts you at Jamie's front door

on the night of the murder.

I dropped by Jamie's just for like a minute,

to tell him I wasn't gonna be with him anymore.

- Son of a bitch already had someone there. - Any idea who?

I saw a black Civic parked down the block.

And I'm 99% sure that's what Eleanor drives.

It's my sitter.

Can I?

Come right back. We have more questions.

Hi, there, what's happening?

Piper wasn't telling Jamie off in my vision,

she wanted to continue the relationship.

She's a prideful lady.

Maybe pride got the best of her,

and she came back later,

waited for Eleanor to leave,

then used that nail gun on Jamie's skull.

We should see if Eleanor drives a Civic.

Come in.

Hey, there.

Sorry. No appointment.

I'll be quick, I just want you to consider joining me.

I'm reporting Harry Thorne

to the Office of Disciplinary Counsel.

His hijacking the Weckler case

was unprofessional and detrimental to the client.

You'd agree to a statement like that, wouldn't you?

You're taking it pretty hard, don't you think?

Public Defenders lose clients to high-dollar lawyers all the time.

Oh.

You haven't heard?

James Weckler hanged himself in his cell this morning.

Clive, sometimes we work so hard solving murders

that we forget to pat ourselves on the back.

Wouldn't it be amazing if every time you caught a perp

in a lie or found a clue, you got a reward?

This star is for telling a spouse

his partner was unfaithful.

This smiley face is for your great bedside manner.

Look.

Piper doesn't know her cars.

DMV says Eleanor owns a black Camry.

Not a Civic.

I think that guy in the Civic is following us.

He was parked in front of the restaurant earlier.

Stay here.

What'd you get?

Macy and Jamie out on a date.

Macy thought a Civic was following them.

Jamie tried to check it out, but it sped away.

Liv's second star for a vision.

That's my notepad.

How much of this did you doodle in?

You saw the Civic pull away?

Yes indeed-y.

Any chance this was the license plate?

Oh, my gosh. It was!

Black Civic. Partial plate STD 36.

Bingo.

Interesting. The car's registered

to a business.

Coleman Baker Private Investigations.

Holy frijoles!

No surprise Jamie got himself tailed by a P.I.

as much philandering as he was doing.

Who hired this guy?

Macy seems unlikely, she was freaked out by being followed.

And if it were Piper,

she wouldn't have tipped us off to the Civic.

First thing tomorrow, we'll ask our P.I. friend who hired him.

Who's a superstar?

Damn straight.

Thanks for coming with me.

I'm sure you could've handled yourself.

Not sure what I was imagining a zombie club would look like.

I was hoping for a wooden front door, and we'd just,

you know, punch our way through and...

What's your pleasure?

Whoa. Lady cop. In here.

- Does not compute. - Tanner something.

- Clive's C.I. - Hey!

Ix-nay on the E-say, I-way.

Is there anyone who isn't a zombie now?

Uh, I'm looking for Don E.

He should be here soon.

When he gets back, tell him his friend Liv wants to play.

Also, I'll take a Bloody Mary, spicy.

I'll have the same.

It's okay to get something else.

Everyone's different.

And that's a good thing.

I actually really want a Bloody Mary.

Great. It's fun when you discover you have things in common.

Yeah.

So.

Preschool teacher brain, huh?

Man, I gotta tell you,

my preschool teacher may have scarred me for life.

Oh, no. How'd that happen?

I spent days making this love note for Lizzy Bealer.

Mrs. Pennybaker caught me and confiscated it.

Did Lizzy Bealer ever find out that you loved her?

Oh, hell, yeah.

Mrs. Pennybaker read my love note to the class.

That's traumatic.

Well, I'll tell you one thing.

Mrs. Pennybaker cured me of note-passing.

No!

Note passing is a time-honored means of communication

between young sweethearts.

Not for this kid.

I learned my lesson.

- Sad. - I know.

I'm sorry, I've completely monopolized the conversation.

No.

Yo, white girl!

You like the new digs?

You get a gold star for the digs,

but I'm here to talk to you about something very, very serious.

Yeah?

Do you remember trying to buy a dose of the cure from Ravi?

Hashtag I'm with her.

I vaguely remember the transaction.

Well, the next day, all the doses were stolen.

- But you already know that, don't you? - What?

Did Ravi tell you that... Argh.

You come in here and you... Argh!

Use your words.

If I had a bunch of doses of the cure,

I'd be one rich-ass zombie.

I wouldn't be lugging boxes around.

Boss, we got a phone call, bro.

It's our last holdout.

Seems I have some business I have to attend to.

You ready to come aboard or what, brother?

Candy?

Hey, Curly,

I hope my '91 Le Honte is up to your standards?

Blaine!

Nice shiner, dude.

Being human sure must suck.

What are you doing here?

Didn't want to miss your going-out-of-business sale.

- My what? - Yeah.

Let that sink in.

As of today, all your clients belong to us.

But, as your former employee,

I wanted to extend the courtesy

of buying up the rest of your product.

How's a hundo a brain sound?

I know that's a considerably under-market value.

But you know what they say...

About beggars not being choosy.

Damn. There it is!

That's the look I wanted to see, the mad Blaine!

Priceless.

Didn't I tell you?

Ain't personal.

It's capitalism, dude.

We built a better mousetrap.

Let's grab our bargain brains and bounce, y'all.

Oh.

Et tu, Candy?

You care now?

What now?

Your dad wanted me to deliver a message.

My dad?

Ow!

Sorry about the gut shot.

He wanted you to suffer a bit first.

Oh! Whoa!

I've got money, okay? Lots of it.

Coleman Baker?

Clive Babineaux,

I'm a homicide detective with the SPD.

This is Liv Moore from the M.E.'s office.

We're investigating the murder of Jamie Brennan.

I wondered when you guys were gonna show up.

C'mon.

Please. Sit.

We were curious

why you were parked on Jamie's street the night he died,

and why he had your license plate

jotted down on a notepad.

You likely know what I was doing.

I was working on behalf of a client.

You want a coffee? Tea?

No.

No, what, Clive?

No, thank you.

And who would this client be, Mr. Baker?

You know I can't tell you that, Detective.

Are you really going to make me find a judge to...

Clive, look.

I'll be damned.

You still think you need to go see a judge?

No. I think we're good.

You are in big trouble, young lady.

You're not in an open relationship.

You're so not in an open relationship

that your husband hired a private investigator

to find out what you were up to.

Remember that Civic you saw

following you on a date with Jamie?

That was him.

And it gets worse.

Turns out your husband's P.I.

was following you the night of the murder.

That's who called your husband and told him where you were.

That's how Will found you.

He probably sits out there seething.

He works himself up to a fever pitch.

He finds a weapon at the

construction site across the street.

He heads to the front door.

Rings the bell.

And that's the last thing your lover ever did.

You became an accomplice when you helped Will

cover up the crime.

You got rid of the incriminating sheets.

You keep lying for him,

you're just adding years to your sentence.

Will killed Jamie.

I saw it all.

Hey, there.

Uh, uh, Liv's out gallivanting with Clive somewhere.

I'm actually here to see you.

Oh.

Have you done the autopsy on James Weckler?

Right, the dominatrix killer.

Died of asphyxiation.

Pretty standard hanging.

Is it possible there was foul play?

It's possible.

But there'd be no way to know for sure.

Not with the evidence I collected from the body.

What about Liv?

Maybe some visions could fill in the gaps.

Weckler's still here. You could ask her really nice.

Wait. How pressing is this?

Not very. I don't even know what I'm looking for.

Why?

Now, Weckler's brain soaks in the blue juice for 10 days.

The juice supercharges the visions.

Liv's gonna hate me.

Weckler had some mental health issues.

She could always refuse.

So?

So?

How'd it go last night with Liv?

I thought it was going good.

It was weird, I really opened up to her.

But when I took her home, she just bolted for the door.

I think she may be a racist.

Or worse, frigid.

Actually she wanted me to pass along this note.

You mind returning this to her?

Sure.

But this is officially

the last note I pass between you two.

Yes, sir?

Understood.

Yes, sir.

The tracker they planted in that gun nut's truck

shows him heading for our 20.

- I'll get eyes on Baracus. You go throw down the spike strip. - Got it.

I can't see nothing.

What the hell?

Our front tires are blown.

Gentlemen, this is a private road.

What's your business here?

Uh...

We heard there was a party out here.

Duct tape.

Blood pressure cuff.

What kind of party y'all headed to?

Uh...

What the hell was that?

Oh, God.

You ran over that fella!

Let's get out of here!

Gun it! Go! Go! Go!

- Go, go! - I'm going, I'm going!

Faster!

I can't go any faster!

Oh, my God, oh, my God...

Did you see that?

We got it.

We totally got it!

Go, go, go.

Yes!

They're sure as hell gonna believe us now.

- Yeah! - Yes!