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Stop! Police!

Ah!

Don't move!

Hey! Sir, do not move!

Come off the ladder.
Freeze.

NOPD!
Come towards me!

Okay, okay, I...

♪ NCIS:New Orleans 1x09 ♪
Chasing Ghosts
Original Air Date on November 25, 2014

♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪

♪ Bang, bang, bang, bang ♪

♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪

♪ How, how, how, how ♪

♪ Hey, hey ♪

♪ You gotta come on. ♪

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

So, you heading up north

to spend Thanksgiving
with your folks?

Ah, I think I'm opting out

of the Stepford family dinner
this year.

Parental gin and tonics
at 11:00,

followed by ritualistic
screaming and yelling at 11:30,

and tearful apologies
by halftime.

I think I'm just gonna stay put

and whip up a batch of my chards
for the potluck.

Chards-- as in greens?

Yeah.

Brody clan serves them
as an appetizer.

Well, down here they're part
of the main course.

Thank you.

And I'm the greens guy.

You sound intimidated.

Worried about
a little competition?

King,

tell her about my collards.

Talk of the town.
Well, if they're so special,

why don't you put
a little green on your greens?

Oh, like a greens-off?
Mm-hmm.

Oh, it's on like Donkey Kong.

So what's the number
for dinner this year, six?

No, seven.

Laurel called.

She's bringing home some boy
named Orion.

Orion like the constellation?

Or Metallica song?
Poor Laurel. Hope to God

she doesn't really like
this one.

Work.

Fill them in on our burglar.

We have multiple injuries

due to the height
of the fall,

but the cause of death
is likely cervical fractures.

Got two dislocations
at C1 and C2.

NOPD tried to pull him over
on a random traffic stop.

He led them on
a wild-goose chase,

hoping to get away
with that stolen loot.

Why you looking at us like that?

Waiting for the first question.

Navy or Marines?
Neither.

He murk some seaman
when he robbed him?

Nope, no direct military
connection to our dead man.

Then why are we here?

That stolen gun

is Navy-issued.

So we find the owner
and return it.

NOPD is cross-checking

robbery calls
with the stolen loot

to lock down a location.

Filed off the serial number.

We'll have to get it
to Sebastian,

see what he can give us.

I'm thinking
about shaking things up

this year at the potluck,

maybe move away
from my marshmallow Jell-O mold

and papaya-cantaloupe fruitcake.

So long as you approve,
of course.

I was gonna suggest it

if you didn't make
the change voluntarily.

Really?

I knew there were
a lot of leftovers.

I just thought it was
sort of a gluten, caloric,

too-much-of-a-good-thing
kind of thing.

More of a...

papaya-cantaloupe fruitcake
sort of thing.

So there are several techniques
that can be used

to re-sequence
obliterated serial numbers.

There's chemical etching,
which is the most common,

going back to
metallurgical examinations

in which etching solutions

were applied to
cross sections of metal.

Then there's heating,
which creates

a visible difference
between the damaged

and undamaged regions of the substrate...
Sebastian.

Today?

Sebastian,
here's the powder

I pulled
from the burglar's pants.

I was wondering
if you could do an analysis.

Sure. Now, I, on
the other hand,

decided to magnetize
the gun and bombard it

with fine magnetized
particles.

The particles fill in
the gaps that are left

from indentations when
someone files them off.

Which allowed me to recover
the serial number,

run it through
the Navy's database,

and bing-bang-boom,

your stolen Smith & Wesson

belongs to Chief Petty Officer
Jacob Tarlow.

Can you get me

an address?
Yeah.

Uh...

that's gonna be hard,

since Jacob was murdered
40 years ago.

This case...

was similar to the one
that inspired

the movie Mississippi Burning.

Jacob Tarlow,

Jewish naval officer

who enlisted black recruits.

They lynched him for it.

Wait. Is this one of your...

Yes, my bedside file stack.

This is the original.

I-I'm sorry.

There's a-a bedside file stack?

The Wade Files.

You haven't told him?
No, I didn't want

to burden young Sebastian

with that particular obsession,

but I have a stack of files,

unsolved cases,

that are my reading material
on the nights I can't sleep.

The many nights she can't sleep.

This case, Jacob Tarlow,

was the first of those files.

I was a powerless

college intern
in the coroner's office.

The coroner
didn't even bother

to look at Jacob's body.

He ruled his death a suicide.

NOPD closed the case.

But wait, if he was hung,

how does a gun figure
into the murder?

He had it on him
before he was executed.

And it's always been speculated

that whoever murdered him...

Stole his gun.

The gun was never recovered.

Case went cold.

Now that it's resurfaced...

...maybe we could finally solve
a 40-year-old murder.

Looking good.

You're a horrible liar.

Liver cancer.

If life's a marathon,

I'm basically
at the finish line.

Still,

it's been a good run.

Hannah and I met at the time
of Jacob's death.

And Miriam was
about a month old.

Mm-hmm. I had two mothers

before it was, uh, all the rage.

Liked this one the moment
I saw her face.

Even with the sadness

of becoming a widow at 19,

I knew Loretta Wade

was a keeper.

Oh, Agent Pride,
this is, uh,

Jacob's brother Esau
and Paul Hare,

close friend of Jacob's
and mine for...

Close to forever.

Here's the medication.

I'll get you some water.

So,

you, um,

you found Jacob's gun.

Recovered as part
of a likely robbery.

You said in the past
that Jacob had his gun

the night he was murdered?

I saw it with him
when he left the house.

He was pretty sure he'd meet up
with resistance.

And he had it with him
at the recruitment site?

We weren't there long

before the Confederate Brigade
jumped us.

It was chaos.

Jacob and I were
fighting off four,

five of those guys each.

Cops did show up,
but they weren't much help.

Somehow, Jacob and
I got separated.

I managed to make it
back to my car.

I just rushed right over here

to make sure
that he got back safely.

But Jacob never made it home.

Later that night, uh,
we got a call from the police,

informing us that Jacob
was dead.

When we went to claim
Jacob's body,

this gun, his gun, was missing

from the holster.

We'd like to
reopen the case.

We would need to reexamine

all of the evidence.

Including...

Jacob's body.

With the advancements
in DNA technology,

we could find evidence

that helps solve the case.

Here, I'll help you.

You find who killed my husband.

Jacob Tarlow's gun.

We know where the burglar
stole it from?

Nope.

We tracked the stolen items
back to the Bywater.

So Brody and I went
knocking on doors.

People laid claim
to most of the stolen loot,

but no takers on Jacob's gun.

You really going with “loot”?

Well, what do you prefer?

Booty? Swag?

Perp prop?

What about Jacob Tarlow's
NOPD case file.

Destroyed in Katrina.

But they did still have this.

That the rope
Jacob was hung with?

Yeah.

We're gonna send it
to Sebastian,

see if he can pull DNA.

All right,

prime suspects,
what do we know about them?

Confederate Brigade

was a bastard offshoot
of the KKK.

Black church
and synagogue bombings,

race riots, you name it.

Loretta sent over
Jacob's Navy journal.

It looks like the Brigade
attacked him several times

prior to his death.
We need to put faces

with this group.

I'll run
the Confederate Brigade

with the FBI database.

See if we can get a pop
on its members.

Lasalle here.

Speak.

1972 seems...

late for a lynching.

“Lynching”"

“Hate crime.”

Different names, same sentiment.

Discrimination didn't end
with the Civil Rights Act.

Even when I became an agent,

opened up shop in the '80s,

some of my partners
on the force

still held
old-school beliefs.

Sebastian has some info
on the powder

that he found
on the burglar's pants.

Want us to head over there?
Yeah.

And I'll head over
to the cemetery with Loretta.

Hey, Laurel.
Hey.

Hello, Laurel.
Hey, Daddy.

Music major.

With honors,
thank you very much.

Where's Orion?
Oh, he's taking the bus in tonight.

I told him I would make sure
it was safe to talk turkey.

Of course it's safe,
though I'm headed out.

Oh, field trip.
I'll ride with.

Persistent.

Wonder where
I got that from.

All right, you
stand back,

be quiet.

Oh...

rules say I can't take you
in the official vehicle.

So we take the family car?

Orion.

That's quite a name.

Yeah, his major is economics,

but after he's done with school,
he's talking about

getting his degree
in La Science de la Pâtisserie.

Pastry chef?

No. Stop right now.

Before you even
get started.

I am bringing him home
on one condition.

What's that?

You cannot befriend
my boyfriend.

You brought Barry
to Jazz Fest,

Andrew and Chris
still call you for advice,

and from what I understand,

you sent Kenneth a check
to cover his rent last month?

Just till his scholarship
came through.

Dad, we went on three dates
two years ago.

He's a good guy.

This can't happen.

You meet them,
you're nice to them,

they like you,
and then it gets all weird.

Are they with me for me,
or are they with me

because of super cool
Agent Dwayne Pride?

Look, what do you
want me to do?

Give them the
Clint Eastwood stare

that your
grandfather gave me

when I started
dating your mother?

Just...

be a dad, you know?

A little aloof,
a little standoffish.

And if you want
to pretend

like you're being
overprotective,

that's fine, too.

Just...
no cooking together.

And... and none
of that bromance stuff.

No bromance.

Thank you.

This case is the reason

I moved back
to New Orleans permanently.

I was thinking
about heading out West

after leaving Harvard,

but I couldn't shake the memory
of being called

to cut Jacob down
from the noose.

Coroner threw
his body in a box,

brushed it off
as a suicide.

Barely bothered
to examine him.

“Southern trees
bear a strange fruit.”

“Blood on the leaves
and blood at the root”"

I said, “Loretta,

“you will never let
another woman's man

just get thrown in a box.”

Agent Pride.

Officer Sullos.
Nice to see you.

Not sure you're going to
feel that way in a second.

You're gonna have to stop
what you're doing here.

Why is that?

Court order--
to stop the exhumation

of Jacob Tarlow's body.

Who did this?

Name is sealed with
the injunction.

Sorry, Pride.
I'm just the messenger.

Wow. What smells so good?

Oh, my Italian kale.

Wait.

More greens?

Yeah. Loretta told me
about the greens-off.

Since I recently
discovered

that my fruitcake
was not well received,

I thought I'd get in
on the action.

Since she's the judge,

I decided to make
an algorithm

based on all of her
favorite spices.

Oh, man. This is
totally out of hand.

Is that for your kale, too?
No, that's, uh...

that's for the
case, actually.

It's extract from the silt

found on the
burglar's pant cuff.

It's lead.

Purest form of lead.

Only found in industrial plants
and toxic waste dumps.

That's not
your logical place

for stolen watches, jewelry and guns.
Uh-uh.

You mind?
No, go ahead.

If that purity of lead

were at a residence,
there'd have to be

some kind of permit or...
There you have it.

Citation belonging to
New Orleans native Brick Myers.

Fined a few
weeks ago.

FBI database
says Brick Myers

was a founding member of
the Confederate Brigade.

Criminal record
as long as a bedsheet.

I'll get an address.

I'm calling Pride.

Brick Myers, NCIS.

Open up.

Looks like this is where
Sticky Fingers made his entrance

to steal Jacob's gun.

Got a lot of buyers
willing to pay top dollar...

What you got?
Well, these

are custom loads,
extra hot...

NCIS! Freeze!

Go!

Get off me, bitch!

Stop resisting.

Stop... resisting.

This has been...

a long time coming.

Gunrunning
across state lines.

Manufacturing
bootleg ammunition.

You're looking
at 20 years minimum.

My people run Angola.

Going back will be a homecoming.

Chief Petty Officer
Jacob Tarlow.

Some of your handiwork.

Eyewitnesses said

you beat him to a pulp
hours before his death.

He started it.

I went to talk to him at
the recruiting station.

A friendly
“Hello. How are you?”

He spit in my face.

He called me names.

I was defending myself.

A few punches were thrown,
then we went our separate ways.

If that's the case,

then why was Jacob's gun,
taken off his dead body,

stolen from your house
two days ago?

Whoa, that was the Jew's gun?

Yes.
Damn, small world.

Look, if I would
have killed Tarlow,

I'd have taken
full credit for it.

The gun was simply

a souvenir of the time.

I bought it off some cop

a couple months
after Tarlow's...

suicide.

And who would that cop be?

The brothers in the Brigade
called him T-Bone.

Man, you would be surprised

some of the friends
we used to have

in very high places.

Brick is lying scum.

Yes on the scum.

Don't be so sure of the lying.

Cozy relationships
between police and hate groups

was not uncommon back then.

If a police officer did
sell Jacob's gun to Brick,

it might explain
why there wasn't

an investigation
into his murder.

Police cover-up suggested

by a very unreliable source.

Got to run
everything down.

All right, Christopher...

got the injunction hearing
switched over to Judge McCruter.

Take Brody with you.

Show her how you use your...

'Bama charm
to sway the judicial process.

Where you going, King?

Apparently, I got
a hot date with a dummy.

Unfortunately, deterioration
from environmental conditions

prevented me from pulling
any kind of DNA, but...

I matched the gauge
of the rope

and the height
of the tree branch

to reenact the murder

using my trusty assistant
LASMAN here.

First, the, uh, torque

that caused
rope fraying on both

the front and the back
of the tree branch

indicates that Jacob's hangman
was hoisting him alone.

You add to that
the height

at which the rope was tied off,

which I deduced
from the photograph here,

and I was able to calculate

the size of Jacob's killer,
given the average height

and wingspan of adult males
living at the time.

What do we got?

Murderer stood between

five-foot-six
and five-foot-eight in height.

Brick's six-two at least.

So it's not
Brick Myers.

And we're back where
I've been for 40 years?

Nowhere.

Loretta...

I need access to
Jacob Tarlow's body, Dwayne.

We're trying to get
the injunction lifted.

It takes time.

Something Hannah
hasn't got much of.

I spoke to
her family today.

Hannah's taken
a turn for the worse.

The stress of the case
taking its toll.

I made her a promise, Dwayne.

I've gone over this case...

I know.

Okay, I've read
Jacob's journals.

I've searched my brain
to see if there's

anything I could
have missed.

I was 20.

I wore skirts that scarcely
covered my thighs,

and bikini tops-- if I
wore any tops at all.

Jacob Tarlow's
blood sacrifice

was during a time when
there were protests.

Average citizens were being
monitored by the FBI.

I bet there are photos.

If there were,
I wouldn't show you any of them.

Not photos of you.

“Average citizens

being monitored
by the FBI.”

COINTELPRO?

FBI followed a lot of
different groups back then.

Maybe even...

The Confederate Brigade.

You've pulled me out of the
abyss 1,000 times, Loretta.

My turn now.

Fennel seeds.

I can't believe
you don't know

anything about cooking.

It's pretty
depressing.

I'm just... real bad.

Daddy!

Uh, this is Orion.

Nice to meet you, Mr. Pride.

Nice to meet
you as well.

Uh, thanks for opening
your kitchen...

letting me

brine the turkey.
Yeah.

Yeah, uh, whatever.

Laurel tells me
you love to cook,

so I knew you'd
appreciate these.

Cumin, fennel seed

and cinnamon.

Why cinnamon?
Daddy...

It's for the
fungiform papillae.

The fungiform papillae?
Mm-hmm.

Taste buds at the
front of your tongue.

Uh-huh.

You get the savory right away,

as long as you
don't, uh...

Don't dry it out.

Yeah. Of course not.

The juices
stimulate

the fungiform papillae...
Mm-hmm.

...which are then
awakened to the cinnamon,

and you
get this...

Sweet aftertaste.

Exactly.
Yeah.

Yeah.

There's a whole science to it,

but when I talk food shop
with Laurel,

she just kind of stares at me.

Like that?

Exactly.

- Mmm.
- Pride?

We got a hold of the classified
COINTELPRO files on the Brigade.

We're set up in SCIF.

Guess I should, uh,

go take a look.

Why don't you do that?

FBI's surveillance pictures
of the Confederate Brigade,

collected from the
Counterintelligence Office.

Three cheers
for domestic spying.

They managed to capture
quite a few Hallmark moments

outside their primary hangout.

The Dixie Bootleg.

Rural juke joint
I helped shut down

for running moonshine
back in '81.

We uploaded several photos
onto our system,

and so far, this is what
we got from the analysis.

I found three members
of law enforcement who hung out

with the Brigade
on a regular basis.

One of them could be T-Bone.

Sebastian said

that Jacob's killer

was between five-six
and five-eight.

That rules out these two.

Height analysis on this officer

is five foot, seven inches.

Sweet spot for Jacob's murderer.

Run an age progression,
Christopher.

Age progression...

coming up.

40 years later.

You recognize him?

Why, yes, I do.

Tom Hamilton,
Councilman Hamilton's father.

And the apple doesn't fall
far from the tree.

Dwayne Pride,

as I live and breathe.

Need to talk, Tom.

Well, it's probably as good
a time as any, I suppose.

Don't you think, Dougie?

What, you-you here to
ruin my fishing trip?

Huh?
I'm here...

to speak to
your father

about his involvement

in the murder of Jacob Tarlow.

I'll tell you...

I mean, you... you're just
so desperate to get to me,

that you'll make up
some cockamamie story

about my father
and some old murder.

Name Brick Myers sound familiar?

Can't say that it does.

He I.D.'d you as selling him
a dead man's gun...

T-Bone.

T-Bone...

No, no, isn't that
a-a cut of meat?

It's also, apparently,
your father's nickname.

All right, Daddy,
you do not

have to answer to
this Keystone Cop.

Stand down, Dougie.

Chief Petty Officer
Jacob Tarlow.

Remember him?

I tuned up

a lot of criminals in my day.

He wasn't a criminal.
He was a highly decorated

Navy Chief Petty Officer

that you took
an extra liking to.

Eight unlawful arrests

in six months.

Establishing a pattern
of-of harassment is good,

but what you need
is for me to admit

that he got tired of my harassing him
and he fought back.

And I lost control,
and I strung him up.

Sounds like a confession to me.

Maybe a... tall tale

from a feeble, senile old man.

I gotta go to the restroom.

Uh...

Well, that was
a pathetic ploy,

even for you, Dwayne.

What's pathetic

is you filing for an injunction

to stop the
exhumation

of Jacob Tarlow
to protect your father.

First:

Keep coming
after my father,

and I will make things
very uncomfortable

for you in this city.
And second:

You don't know that
that injunction is me.

I don't have to know.
Judge will.

And if your
name is on it,

I will suggest
you be charged

with accessory to
murder after the fact.

Judge is expecting
your call.

Checked with Tom
Hamilton's old precinct

to see if he was on duty
the night of Jacob's murder.

The logs were lost in a fire.

So, how about this?

Go to the family,

see if anyone can put
Tom Hamilton at the fight

on the night of
Jacob Tarlow's death.

You got it, King.

Now I can really get to work.

After all these years,

I wasn't sure there'd
be something to go on.

But when the dead
have something to say,

not even time will shut them up.

Normally,
in a hanging,

one would expect
broken bones in the neck.

It's due
to asphyxial resistance.

You mean when someone struggles
as they're being choked?

Exactly.

Jacob lacked fractures
along the vertebrae,

which means his
body was relaxed.

It's like a-a drunk
driver avoids injury

after passing out at the wheel.
Jacob wasn't conscious?

I believe he was dead
before he was hung,

and my supposition
is reinforced by...

...a depressed fracture,
like this one.

Caused by an extreme blunt force

at the point
of impact.

And the tool of attack
often causes an indentation

in the shape of the object used.

I'll give you three guesses--

first two don't count.

His gun.

Tom Hamilton
encounters Tarlow,

there's some sort
of an incident,

Hamilton gets a hold
of Tarlow's gun...

And uses the blunt weapon
to kill Jacob.

Hangs him to cover up
what he's done.

And then, maybe as insurance,

sells the gun to Brick,

so that, should it
ever be found...

All signs point towards
the Brigade and the lynching.

Have I ever told you

how high I get
from tracking down the truth?

Thank you, Dwayne.

Thank me when I tie
Tom Hamilton to the gun.

Because of Loretta's discovery,

I stopped looking at
the gun ballistically

and examined
it materially,

from a blunt-force
trauma perspective.

So, to raise this
serological Titanic,

I had to use a
technique I perfected,

called the
“Jellyfish Effect”"

Some jellyfish are incandescent
under black lights,

kind of like
nature's glow sticks.

And this here...

Spices for my
greens. No touchy.

So I placed
Jacob's gun

inside this sterile fish tank

with a luminol vaporizer
attached to the side.

Is that blood,
glowing in the dark?

It is.

I cross-checked it
with Jacob's DNA.

It's not a match, so most likely

the killer cut himself
on the trigger

when he hit Jacob over the head.

Leaving blood spatter

inside Jacob's gun.

Tom Hamilton's DNA...

Is not on file anywhere.

I'll need a sample
to get a conclusive result.

Coast Guard's
on standby.

They'll confirm Tom
Hamilton's whereabouts

as soon as he returns to port.

I don't want to lose him.

Make sure he's not fleeing.

Hey.

Where's Orion?
I sent him home.

I told you I wasn't sure
how I felt about him

and I didn't want this
to become a big deal.

And all of a sudden,
it's “your dad” this

and “your dad” that.

What was I supposed to do?

You were supposed to stay away.

You invited him.
It's Thanksgiving.

Well, clearly,
that was a mistake.

Hey, King.

We got a 20 on
Tom Hamilton.

We'll talk later?

Blood or urine?

Just a simple swab
from your cheek,

and I'm on my way.

You don't have a warrant.
Innocent men

don't need warrants
to clear their name.

No one calls me “innocent,”
but I'm innocent of this.

Then why fight it?

'Cause that's what my family

has always done when it concerns
you and your family.

You should
respect that.

After all,

if your father Cassius

had fought a little harder,

he wouldn't be sharing
an 11-by-seven-foot cell.

So, go get your warrant,
and when you come back,

I'll give you a specimen

and tell you some stories
about old man Pride

that'll make your head spin.

Make sure this boat
doesn't leave the city,

headed for international waters.

We all know how you Hamiltons
like to evade arrest.

Look, Dwayne.

My father is a violent, drunk,
racist son of a bitch.

But I do not believe
that he's capable of murder.

Why risk letting a woman die
without knowing the truth

about what happened
to her husband?

Because sons protect
their fathers.

That's what they do.

Not all sons.

I didn't choose
to live with the doubt

of who my father really was.

You got an opportunity
to learn the truth.

So I'm running the hair
from the brush

Councilman Hamilton
took from his father

against the blood that we
found inside of Jacob's gun.

The results should
be coming up here

in three, two, one...

It's not a match.

So, Tom Hamilton's
not the killer?

It seems that having
hateful views

doesn't necessarily
make you a liar.

All these years,
I've been looking at this case

from the same point of view.

That the racists
must be hiding something.

Now we know

Brick Myers-- too tall.

Tom Hamilton's
blood doesn't match.

So...

what if they are
telling the truth

and it's the journal

that's been lying all along?

What's this?

Jacob Tarlow's last entry

after the fight
with the Brigade.

Everything in it suggests
that Jacob's death is related

to what happened that day.

But maybe the journal
is a cover.

And the people
he should've been afraid of

were much closer.

Who had access to the journal

between the time Jacob died

and when the coroner's office
first saw it?

His brother Esau.

And his best friend Paul.

Sometimes

hate has nothing
to do with color.

Tell me things.

The medical company that
ships Hannah's medication

faxed over their signature logs.

Paul and Esau have signed

for Hannah's prescription
in the last six months.

Do you have...?
Jacob's journal?

Yes. Thank you.

We will scan it
and compare

Jacob's last entry

to Esau and Paul's handwriting
from the signature logs.

Where are Paul and Esau now?

Headed to Hannah's.

We told them to gather everyone
to give them an update.

It's okay.

I'll get it.

Hi.

Hi. Come on in.

Hey, Paul.
Come over here for a second.

You know who Jacob's killer is?

We think we do.

Paul?

Why?

High-stakes gamble.

Relying on the cesspool of hate

to cover up the murder
of your best friend.

Jacob's Navy journal.

And the writing
is an exact match

to when you signed
for Hannah's medication.

Like your DNA

will match the blood found
on the inside of Jacob's gun.

Must have been hard.

With Hannah leaning
on you all these years

but never accepting
your hand in marriage.

Miriam told us...
that you proposed

to Hannah several times
after Jacob's death.

But she never did say yes.

Leaving you to live
in the shadows.

Yeah, we-we had
one night together.

Right before they were engaged.

And I told Hannah
that she had

to choose between
me and Jacob.

But she said we were a mistake.

She made me swear
never to say a thing.

But after what happened
with the Brigade...

after...

escaping with our lives...

I had to tell Jacob.

I told him that Hannah and I
were meant to be together.

Not him and her.

And then things just, uh,
got out of hand.

It was an accident.

Swear.

Accident or not...
still murder.

Now we know the truth.

How you gonna sleep tonight?

Like a baby.

My father was trying
to get home to my mother.

Oh, and to you, too.

And to me.

The Secretary of the
Navy is ordering Paul

back to active duty to face

murder charges
at court martial.

Thank you.

But I'd rather not ever
think of Paul Hare again.

I made... one mistake,

and it deprived me of so much.

I miss Jacob's laugh.

I look forward to being
with him again.

Sometimes you don't want it
to be a big deal.

But it is.

And sometimes...

...you say you're
not sure how you feel

when you know exactly.

It's so intense
it terrifies you.

I really like him.

I know.

And I sent him away.

You did.

And I screwed up.

Big-time.

And sometimes

it's not such a terrible thing

when your father has a bromance
with your boyfriend.

Oh, hang on.
A little eyelash.

Mm-hmm.

Hey.

Hey.

Pie's ready.

Pie's here.

Hi.
Hey, Loretta!

You ready to give
the greens championship trophy

to yours truly?
Oh!

Now is not the time
for competition.

It's the season of thankfulness.

Okay, y'all.

Listen, listen, everyone.

Let me just say, you know,

it has been an interesting
last few days.

A 40-year-old murder

reminds me how much
the world has changed.

With work still to be done.

But tonight...

we're here to break
bread together

and remember

that love done right

can change the world.

Amen.

Amen.

Cheers.

Cheers, guys.
Cheers to that.

Yeah!

Orion?

Yes, sir?

Would you care to do the honors?

Big man on campus now.

Wow. Thank you.
That's right.

You got this.
Oh, my word.

I remember what you did
to the bird last year.

Oh!

All right, somebody
pass me the greens!

Oh, here you go.
Here's the winner.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

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