Original subtitles

Mike left a message with my office,

said it looks like we've got another victim of the RRK.

Why should I back you? Why shouldn't I give this case to anyone but you?

Because right now nobody understands him better than me.

What about John Ainsworth?

Obviously wanted us to believe he was the RRK,

and I let myself get enthralled.

There's gonna be a press conference tomorrow.

So Randy didn't take you off the case after all.

Yeah, he did, but it was Waller's decision.

Some of you might know I have a history with this killer.

He's taken the life of another young woman for his own selfish and sadistic reasons.

Dad.

That he's destroyed another family.

Oh, Jesus.

Edgar Harris.

Did you see someone?

You. And that girl.

When she was alive.

No, you're confused, Edgar, uh...

Hey.

"A few moments after death...

breath gone, body still warm...

that's when I take my blade

and trace it over every inch of her skin,

every... imperfection...

till I find the blemish.

That stain.

Her tattoo.

And with Iris Swan, there were too many imperfections to count.

The freckles on her face.

The wine spill of a birthmark on her hip."

Why'd you write that?

"The wine mess of a birthmark."

If I'm going to be quoted, I'd prefer it to be accurate.

Why'd you write that?

The wine...

mess of a birthmark on her hip?

I guess I was feeling creative.

But you're not the RRK, John.

No matter how many letters you wrote,

no matter how much you wanted us, me,

to believe you were, you aren't him.

You've been cleared.

So how did you know that Iris had a birthmark on her hip?

Lucky guess.

No, it's more than that. And we both know it.

You know something about the killer, about these murders.

I follow the case. What can I say? I'm a fan.

You know.

- You tell me what you know. - Nothing.

Honest.

Open your mouth. Open.

Get back here! Answer the goddamn question!

Screw you, detective!

You wanna blow off Gretchen's vigil, fine.

I'm gonna be doing my job.

I was looking forward to seeing this woman tonight.

She's special. Piercings in all the right places.

And what about this special woman

that you moved from L.A. to be with?

- Love is fleeting. - Mm.

Hey, Mike. They finally located Edgar Harris.

- They're bringing him in now. - Okay.

Edgar Harris? Mike...

Appreciate you coming in, Edgar. Helping us out.

Sorry I startled you last night.

I run by the river sometimes.

Maybe you've seen me, huh?

- You said you saw me, right? - Mm-hm.

With that girl, with Gretchen.

You saw Detective Serrato with Gretchen McGrath?

No, he's mistaken, but he saw someone.

- You. - No.

But I know you saw someone, maybe that girl's killer.

Let's start from the top, Edgar, okay?

- You saw someone in the woods. - Yes.

Detective Serrato here?

Yes.

- With that dead girl? - Definitely.

It was you.

With that girl.

And that blue devil.

He had me a little worried

until that crazy shit about a blue devil.

Wanna keep me in the loop next time, boss?

So I ran into Edgar last night. He was a potential eyewitness.

And what's with you running down by the river?

I run.

By the river.

Big deal.

Here in Canaan, a vigil of family and friends is underway for Gretchen McGrath,

a local teenager whose body was found by the river,

reportedly a victim of the serial killer best known by the initials RRK.

Oh, shit, Amanda, check this out.

- I'm gonna kill Reuben. - No one knows it's you.

Yeah, and you look hot.

I look damn hot.

Who's that?

Oh, shit, that's John Ainsworth, isn't it?

Been a while, detective. How many years?

Of course that temporary restraining order to start things off was, uh, an unfortunate spoiler.

I make sure to see you time to time, John.

You're still interested.

I'm... flattered.

You know, I never thanked you.

So I would have been satisfied with the county's initial offer,

but you know lawyers, they see more opportunity than...

us average folk.

Nice turnout. Nice to know people care.

Heartwarming.

Where was he the night that Gretchen was killed?

John Ainsworth is not the RRK, trust me.

Are you okay?

I'm the picture of calm.

Did you know her?

No. Did you?

No.

- They act like it matters. - What?

One dead girl.

I mean, there's, like, a billion girls in the world. There's, like, eight billion people.

How's one life supposed to matter?

Tori, would you like to say something now? Everybody's here.

It's okay, we're with you.

I'm Tori McGrath.

Gretchen was my daughter.

We didn't always get along.

I used to tell her that she couldn't always do what she wanted,

because that's not the way the world works.

But she did anyway.

If she'd just listened to me...

If she'd just listened to me just one goddamn time, she wouldn't...

Thank you all for being here.

If anyone else would like to say something, I know it would be of great comfort.

Say something, Mr. D.

Yeah, hey, I'm, uh... I'm Leo. Uh...

Leo Doyle.

I'm the guidance counselor at the high school.

This is my fault...

what happened to Gretchen.

I'm to blame.

And maybe you feel the same way,

that you could have done more.

She's dead, and none of us saved her.

And Gretchen was special.

And she saw people.

She saw me.

And, um...

maybe that scared the hell out of me.

But, uh...

who doesn't wanna be seen?

Your dad's the guidance counselor, right?

He seems pretty cool.

Are you a lesbian?

You're not supposed to ask people that.

Why not? I...

Uh, because it's rude. Because it's nobody's business.

What if I asked you if you were gay?

Well, I'm not, so what do I care?

Good. Great.

But I'm still not gonna do sex with you, so...

I wasn't asking you to.

"Do sex."

Okay, shut up. You know what I meant.

Hey. Hey, Harley.

- Oh, he likes you. - Yeah, he's our neighbor's dog.

- I walk him sometimes. - Is he allowed to be loose?

Hey, Harley! Harley!

- We should go for help. - No, I don't wanna leave him. He's scared.

We can take him to that vet near Save More. I can call my mom for a ride.

I don't wanna watch him die.

- Okay, I'm calling my mom. - No, no, no.

But he needs help!

What are you doing?

Look, he's never gonna make it. Okay, just close your eyes.

Shit.

Pax. Pax.

What are you doing?

Where'd you go tonight? I turned around, you were gone.

I got bored.

Okay.

Well, um...

why don't we do something fun?

Why don't I show you some of those wrestling moves I promised?

What, now?

- Why not? - Because I don't want to.

- And because wrestling isn't my thing, it's yours. - You said you were up for it the other day.

- I know what you're trying to do. - What am I...?

- I'm not trying to do anything, Pax. - You're trying to bond with me or whatever.

What's wrong with that? Isn't that what we both want?

We don't really know each other.

And I don't know, maybe that's okay.

It's not okay with me, Pax.

I just wanna show you...

some of those wrestling moves I promised.

Get you off your computer, have some fun. What's the harm in that, huh? Come on.

Come on. It'll be fun.

Ow! Ho-ho-ho!

- Yeah. - That was good.

- Did you feel that? - Yeah.

You just had me like, "Oh!" and you were like, "Down!" Yeah.

- All right, let's do it again. - Okay.

Remember, Pax, a wrestler's mode is defensive, okay?

Your opponent's attacking you. You're fighting back.

- Only one can win. - Okay.

- Okay? So same thing. - Okay.

- Hey. - Okay.

Yeah, that's it. That's it. Fight back.

- Dad! - Fight back!

- No, Dad! - What?

That was great! That was it, Pax!

You're a natural, buddy.

Hey, Pax, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?

Look, I'm tired. I...

I just wanna go to bed.

All right.

Serrato.

Tori? Is that you? Talk to me.

Okay, fine, then just listen.

Gretchen's death was not your fault. There was nothing you could have done.

You're a good mother, Tori.

And I know it feels like that grief is gonna kill you right now,

but you're stronger than you think.

Is there anyone who can be with you right now?

Because I'll be there if you need me.

I told you that, that I'd help any way I could.

Tori?

Look, I'm on my way over.

Tori...

Who was that?

Work.

Well, I hope you were able to help her.

So how is the case going?

Waller didn't force me to take the case, I fought for it.

I should have told you the truth from the beginning, I know.

Talk to me.

Say something. Just-- Just yell at me. Throw something.

What good is that gonna do?

- It might make you feel better. - You think it does?

Yelling at you, being the bad guy all the time?

This-- This won't be over for you.

And our family, we won't be free of this until you find him.

- What are you saying? - Catch the fucking bastard!

And you'd better get him this time.

Or I swear to God...

Should we just sleep here?

You know what? I think I'm... I'm gonna go for a run.

Is that okay?

Okay.

We keep making these middle-of-the-night cigarette breaks a habit,

I'll have to stop calling myself an ex-smoker.

So is Eileen, is she back from Chicago yet?

Boston.

Oh, wait, no, she's in Cleveland, actually.

Heh. I think.

I clearly have no idea where my wife is on business.

Sleep deprivation. I remember it well.

It's a form of torture.

Yeah, so is child-rearing,

- I'm beginning to suspect. - Yes.

So, what's with all that crazy running of Mike's?

Well, we all have our vices.

I need to start exercising again.

Eileen calls it sympathy weight.

As if she needs any sympathy. She looks amazing.

Yeah, well, I guess post-baby fat is a real turn-off for the boyfriend.

Mr. Chicago.

Or is it Boston?

Are you sure?

I'm not sure of anything these days.

Funny thing is, I guess I should care more.

It happens.

Infidelity.

Even in the best marriages.

Has Mike ever...?

I'm sorry, that's none of my business.

Have you?

Duty calls.

This really wasn't necessary.

As you can see, I'm fine.

- Is your boyfriend here? - He's gone out for the night.

What about your son?

He's staying at a friend's. I needed to be alone.

I'm not sure that's the best thing for you right now.

I'd like to stay, keep you company.

It's none of your business.

Is it loaded?

Wouldn't be much good to me if it weren't.

Why don't you just give me the gun, Tori?

Blowing your brains out makes perfect sense.

I would have probably done it by now.

But I would have missed out.

Yeah.

I would have missed out seeing the sick fuck who killed my daughter

pay for what he did.

He should know that her life meant something to somebody.

It's okay.

Hey, how'd everything go with Sheriff Waller?

She really expects me to give her daily updates on the case.

Wasn't that the Faustian deal you made with her?

One fuck-up with John Ainsworth and I'm stuck with a babysitter.

How's that help me do my job?

You check with the IT guys on Gretchen's cell?

- Any deleted texts? - Just typical teenage drama.

Although one potential tidbit.

Gretchen was involved with a fellow student, hot and heavy.

Ended badly a few weeks ago.

Okay. Well, let's talk to him.

Her.

It's my fault she's dead because I didn't return one stupid text?

No, we're not saying that at all.

We're simply tracking Gretchen's last 24 hours, trying to get a better picture of things.

We weren't friends anymore.

We talked a few times after she came back, after she went missing.

I was glad she was okay, but...

Sorry to get personal,

but we understand that things between the two of you were intimate for a while.

We were both curious.

We kept at it for a while, all fun and everything, but...

If a situation wasn't breaking some rule or messing with her mother's sanity,

it wasn't interesting to Gretchen.

Like running off with some guy and not telling anyone.

- Did you know the guy? - She called him a shaman.

That was Gretchen's code.

You know, shaman, as in medicine man.

As in drug dealer.

Do you know where we can find this drug dealer?

Nice pad for a dealer.

Once you start selling to CEOs and housewives,

you better polish up their shopping experience.

Police!

Jesus! I'll call for backup.

Police! We're entering!

We should wait for backup, Mike! We should wait for fucking Animal Control!

Hey, get away!

Go on, get out of here! Go!

Go on! Get out of here!

ME puts estimated time of death before Gretchen was murdered.

Yeah. And we're talking OD, yeah?

Track marks on the arms certainly say as much.

Let's pass this whole thing off to Canaan PD.

If anything further develops, I'm sure they'll keep us in the loop.

I'll call it in to Sosa.

Look out.

It's all right. It's a bit cold now.

- Hey. - Hey.

Hey!

Guys, I think I'm gonna go.

- Really? - Yeah.

Later.

Lacey.

Hi.

Oh, I'm sensing you're still mad at me. Let me try and make it up to you.

Are you headed home? I'll give you a ride. Hop in.

I thought you were different, Mr. D.

I am.

One lapse in character does not make the man.

Did you know your truck smells like weed, Mr. D?

That's really strange, because I don't smoke weed.

- Mmm. Heh. - Come on.

So I see those, uh, detectives

were bothering you as well.

- Gretchen and I were close for a while. - Yeah? They ask about me?

No.

Why?

Do something naughty, Mr. D?

Well, sometimes I can be pretty friendly with my students.

That can get misinterpreted.

Like smoking a joint with one of them in your truck?

This... This guy has, like...

This guy has no idea.

- Who? - Detective Serrato.

- I'll bet he gave you his card, didn't he? - Mm.

Told you to call him if you had more information?

My advice, for what it's worth,

watch yourself around that guy.

What, are you jealous?

I should probably be getting home.

He didn't do it, you know?

Kill Gretchen.

RRK.

How do you know?

Because he's dead.

I mean, you know...

that's what I heard.

Maybe he's like that guy from the Halloween movies.

You know, he never really dies.

I mean, he cut out her tattoo, which is what he always does.

Clearly, the guy's a real sicko.

- I really gotta go. - Yeah, go! Go.

Damn it!

Come on, Lacey. Get in. I'll take you home.

What, are you gonna walk all the way?

There's a killer out there, a real sicko.

Get in the fucking truck, Lacey.

So you're saying that this guy might have killed Gretchen before he OD'd?

We don't think so. We're just curious if Gretchen ever mentioned him.

No.

I wanna see it.

Her tattoo.

She doesn't know, does she?

What kind of fucked-up partner you are.

He tattoos himself.

All those missing tattoos taken by a killer, they're his now.

A reminder.

- My daughter was more than a tattoo. - Of course she was.

Show it to me.

I don't have it.

What, you don't care about my daughter? You don't care about me?

That's not how things were last night. That's not how things were at all.

And that's certainly not the way she explained it to me.

- Who? - Linda Swan.

She knocked on my door this morning. Introduced herself.

Nice lady. Bit talkative.

But I like a woman with an opinion, because I sure as hell have one.

Maybe I should let you two have a moment.

Can I use your bathroom?

To the right.

- Tori, I understand... - You fucking lay a hand on me and I'll file charges.

I don't need your comfort or your pity,

and I certainly don't need some goddamn fuck!

What I need is my gun back. I know my rights.

Give it to me!

It's my gun, and you had no right to take it.

And you have no right to come into my house and pretend you care!

You tattoo yourself with every dead girl you can.

Jesus, get-- Get out of my house.

Her daughter's dead. She's grieving.

And you think you can save her from that?

Is there a problem here, Ramos?

I'm on your side, Mike. But come on, work with me here.

If we're gonna make it as partners, we'd better start trusting each other.

I slept with Linda Swan. Not Tori, not women. One.

I made a mistake.

I won't make it again.

So Tori's got quite the stash of overprescribed pain meds.

One doctor for every day of the week.

- Split them with you. - Jesus Christ! What the hell, Ramos?

What? A Vicodin, a few margaritas on a Saturday night every now and then,

you have an issue with that?

I don't know how you guys do things down there in L.A.,

but up here, we don't go around stealing other people's meds,

overprescribed or not.

Fair enough.

Oh, and just so I'm clear,

what's the policy on throwing someone out a window?

Like I said, on your side, Mike.

So, what do you say we start acting like legit partners?

Or do I have to seriously consider shellacking your ass?

Okay, are we done with all this-- All this sharing?

You'll never catch him.

That's what you're wearing.

Dad's not staying home. He's got work to do.

While I'm forced to participate in an institution that's a complete sham,

not to mention misogynistic.

I could be home doing homework.

One hour, that's all.

You and Dad are always saying we're a family.

Why can't it be a family decision?

Fine. Who's in favor of church this morning?

Thank you, Jake. That's a tie.

- Mom beats a tie. Get in the car. - That's not fair. Dad gets a vote.

- Dad, church or homework? - Both.

Morning.

Hey, Brad, look at you, out for a run.

First day. I hate it.

I'm sorry. Too many stolen cigarettes. Serves me right.

- It's a bad habit. - Absolutely true. It's my guilty pleasure.

See you.

What are we to understand of God's relationship with Paul?

God chose Paul to be an apostle,

and yet he allows him to become a murderer,

only to save him on the road to Damascus.

Perhaps God is encouraging us.

Perhaps he's telling us that no one, no matter who you are,

is beyond redemption.

- Thank you, Father. - You're welcome, Paige.

- See? Wasn't so bad. - Bye, guys. See you.

- Good morning. - Good morning.

I see you all the time. I'm Candace.

- Ah. I'm Paige. - I'm glad we finally met.

I like your dress.

- Oh, really? - Mm.

I don't know.

- You don't have to worry. - Sorry?

- That's your daughter, right? - Yeah.

She's talking to my husband.

He's a guidance counselor at the high school.

He's around pretty young girls all the time.

It's his job, so you don't have to worry.

Bet my story beats your story.

I wouldn't count on it.

How about we keep a little mystery between us?

Speaking of mysteries...

I saw you the other day,

leaving Emerald Beach with that girl.

- Again, really nice to meet you. - Yes, you too.

All right, who's hungry?

- Me, please. - Yes, always.

She's probably just being polite. I mean, it's a boring dress.

- No. - Especially compared

to what she's always wearing.

She has perfect style.

- I bet she's a doctor or a lawyer. - Yeah?

- Something important. Heh. - Okay.

- She's a therapist. I told you. - Oh.

- That's a doctor, right? - Yeah.

Howdy, neighbor.

Hi.

Terrible news, huh?

About that Gretchen McGrath girl.

I bet she was one of yours, wasn't she?

- One of mine? - Yeah.

You know, one of your students.

Later, John.

Mm-hm.