Original subtitles

It's not him. The RRK.

He didn't kill Gretchen.

I wanted it to be.

You saw Detective Serrato with Gretchen McGrath?

- He's mistaken. - It was you and that blue devil.

- Why can't you admit--? - Jake is fine. He's just different.

He's on the spectrum, Mike.

Bet my story beats your story.

How about we keep a little mystery between us?

You don't have to worry.

She's talking to my husband.

He's a guidance counselor at the high school, so he's around pretty young girls all the time.

Can girls be on the wrestling team?

I don't see why not.

Beth was married to a surgeon right here in Canaan.

Only one with a missing ex-wife who fits the profile.

Arlen Doyle?

[BOBBY HEBB'S "SUNNY" PLAYING]

Thanks, Mason!

Ow! Aah!

Goddamn it!

Damn. Oh, God!

This will only take a few minutes.

I appreciate your time, Mr. Doyle.

Dr. Doyle.

Like I said, I'm following up for Rivercrest County

regarding their missing persons case on your ex-wife, Beth.

I told you, she came for the boy.

I refused to let her take him.

She left, end of story.

No, sir, you never told me that.

We've never spoken before.

Well, that's what happened.

Ah.

So you say that Beth came back to Canaan

for custody of your son, Leo, right?

She always popped up unannounced,

claiming one thing or another.

And then she'd just leave again?

Always did.

Wouldn't see her for another year.

Any guesses as to where Beth may have gone?

She was a big fan of communes.

So she was the free spirit type.

If that's what you want to call being irresponsible.

I get the sense that you and Beth weren't...

seeing eye to eye on everything.

Is a failed marriage a crime?

No, sir.

I loved that woman.

And she never loved me back...

which I couldn't forgive.

Must have been very difficult.

Can you tell me what your last memory of Beth is?

Him, trying to save her.

He was always trying to do that.

Your son.

You said "save her."

I have an appointment I need to get to.

Are we done here?

Once again, I appreciate your time, Dr. Doyle.

One more thing.

I understand that Beth had a tattoo.

Who told you that?

Her sister, Karen.

You and Karen have issues?

What I had an issue with is that tattoo.

Not a big fan of tattoos, huh?

Again, that a crime?

Good thing you're not allergic though.

This kid at my old school stepped on a bee and they almost had to amputate his foot.

Whoa.

Yeah, good thing. Hate to have my head amputated.

Kind of need it.

Heh, heh. Yeah, you kind of do, I guess.

You guess?

You okay, Can?

It's just so awful.

Jesus, I can't believe they're digging all that stuff up again.

That's disgusting.

Only interested in selling newspapers, certainly not the truth.

No, but he killed again.

It's not like they're digging up old news from three years ago.

Five years.

- He hasn't killed in more than five years. - Six.

The article says it's the anniversary today of that one girl, Iris Swan.

The last girl before--

Before this-- This recent girl.

Gretchen. Her name was Gretchen.

Girls, I'm leaving!

- Coming! - Okay, Jake. Jake, come on.

It's a school day, like any other.

- I'm sick. - No, you're not. You're perfectly fine.

Foot. Give-- Jake.

- I just wanna hang out with Dad today. - Hey. Oh, hey there, monkey man.

I'm waiting in the car. Hi. Bye.

- Morning. - Okay.

- Good morning. - He's, uh--

He's fighting me. I'll have to cancel my patients.

No, it's fine. Look, I'll take him to school, huh?

Last time he went to school in this mood, he kicked a teacher.

Did you really do that?

No.

It's okay. Look, look, it's fine. I'll work my dad magic on him. Huh?

Hm?

- Morning! - Oh, my God!

Hey, I'm sorry that you, uh-- You don't like school.

You know, when I was your age, I hated it too.

Especially math.

But...

Can you tell me what you don't like about it?

Everything.

Can you be a tad more specific?

All of it.

What do you say I pick you up today after school?

Yeah? Okay, good.

That's what we'll do, if I can.

No, definitely, I'll be here.

What--? What time does--? Does school get out?

Three forty-seven.

Wow, that's precise.

Three forty-seven, I'll be here.

Thank you.

Wait, stage four?

Best estimation, based on the neurological exam and the imaging.

But a blood panel will tell us more.

Is there anything I can clarify for you, Arlen?

- Is anything confusing for you? - I'm not confused or stupid.

Of course not.

- It's just a lot to process. - How many stages are there?

Seven.

I told you I wasn't confused.

So, ahem...

what do we do?

First off, we start your father on donepezil.

For some with Alzheimer's, it can help with the memory loss and the confusion.

And how long, you know, until stage seven?

Are we done here?

I'll write you that prescription, and Liz out front

will give you some literature and a few recommendations...

We should get a second opinion.

This is going to upset your mother.

I don't think there's any point in upsetting her.

We need to keep this between you and me, all right? It'll be our secret.

You can stay at home, okay? We can--

We can hire help, as much as you need.

And you do wanna stay at the house, don't you?

You know, you and that cop have no right to question me like this.

What cop? What are you talking about?

That detective who gave the news conference the other week.

Serrato?

I guess.

What about?

Dad.

- Was he asking about me? - No, not you.

Your mother.

Dad.

What did Detective Serrato want to know about Mom?

When I last saw her.

What did you tell him?

The truth.

She came to our door asking for money.

I gave it to her. She left.

Is that what really happened, Dad?

Of course it is.

What do you think happened?

- I just, um-- Mom... - What?

Nothing. Nothing.

Well... if you think you remember something else, spit it out.

Some version of the past you made up in your head.

That Arlen Doyle is a piece of work, let me tell you.

Claims he has no idea where his wife disappeared to.

No.

Although he made it perfectly clear that he's no fan of tattoos, especially on his wife.

- He admitted that? - Yeah, I'll give him this.

If he is guilty of something, he did nothing,

nothing to hide his contempt.

For her, for me. Anything.

Okay.

I heard back from the hospital on my drive in. They released his schedule without a subpoena.

- Good. - But there are two dates that bump us.

He was out of town at a conference during TOD for both Melissa Gallardo in '05

and Lisa Taylor, '08.

Mm. How far out of town?

New York and Tampa.

Still...

Still what, Mike? This guy is clearly not the RRK.

Okay, fine, maybe he's not our guy.

But there's something about Beth Stanley's case...

a connection somehow.

Or maybe you're doing it again.

Lying to yourself, wanting something to be true even when it's not.

Look, in other news,

Gretchen may have been selling drugs to her friends.

- Where did you hear that? - A parent from the high school called.

Her son told her.

Okay, back to school.

As some of you might know, I have a history with this-- This killer.

And I am just as frustrated as you that he has not been caught.

That he has taken the life of another young woman

for his own selfish and sadistic reasons.

And destroyed another family.

And remains walking among us, feeling invincible.

But he is not invincible.

No monster is.

Sorry, coach.

Unh. No, that was good.

That was good, Earl.

That was good!

Again, come on. Harder.

- Yeah? - Harder! Yes.

- You sure? - Yes!

Oh, that's great.

That was great. Thanks, buddy.

Good job.

All right, everybody, gather round.

We got a new teammate today.

Some of you may know Sam Serrato.

What's the problem?

You guys worried?

Afraid a girl's gonna beat your asses?

- Not really. - Then what?

It's because her dad's a cop, and nobody wants him on their ass if she gets hurt.

All right, let's get started. Everybody pair up.

Carter, show Sam the drills.

Just see if you can touch right there.

Go.

We know Gretchen was involved with Phillip Zellman,

whose drug business was no small operation, so it stands to reason that she was selling for him.

But a single pill here and there?

- You believe these kids? - There's no reason to give us the runaround.

Their classmate's dead, and we're not looking to bust anyone for possession.

Okay, then maybe she was getting her low volume product from her mother.

Tori certainly had the stash.

Maybe Gretchen was stealing a handful here and there.

- Or maybe she was selling for her mother. - No. No, I don't believe that.

Let's talk to her, feel her out.

This afternoon.

Serrato.

Wait, what?

- What do you mean, he's missing? - Who's missing?

Jake.

If I find that you haven't combed over every single inch of this school,

I'm holding you personally accountable.

Jake bit Gus Tyson.

We gave Jake a time-out in my office, which he wasn't happy about.

Okay, so...

you were with him the entire time he was in your office, right?

- I walked out for just a moment-- - You left my son upset and alone?

He bit a student. He's kicked a teacher. He is more than we can manage.

I have had multiple conversations with your wife about this.

We're equipped to deal with a certain level of special needs child,

but Jake's requirements stretch our capabilities.

Well, right now, you're required to do your job and find him,

or there will be significant consequences.

Call in all available units from every adjacent county

and find out if any registered sex offenders have missed their check-ins.

Jake!

Jake!

Jake!

We'll find him, Mike. He's gonna be fine.

- You gotta believe that. - Chief.

He's where?

Jake, buddy, you all right?

You okay?

Hey, Dad.

He's all wet.

He fell in. This guy fished him out.

Thank you so much, Edgar.

Okay, yeah.

Why on earth did you leave the school?

I told you I was picking you up, didn't I?

Three forty-seven.

And what possessed you to come down here to the river?

Jake.

You're always talking about the river.

He's fine. Vitals are strong.

Thank you.

You could have drowned.

But I didn't.

Okay, let's go home. Come on.

Thank you again.

- Hey, good work today, guys. - Thanks, coach.

Amanda!

Hardly recognized you out of your Sunday best.

- Hi, Mr. Doyle. - Leo, please. You're not one of my students.

Leo.

- Picking up Sam? - Aren't I a good sister?

You got your own wheels?

- My mom's. - Ah! Ha-ha-ha.

Her errand girl.

- More like slave. - Heh.

So, uh...

I think Sam is gonna be a good wrestler.

I think she's certifiable.

Well, I think, um-- I think it challenges her, which is a good thing.

She also said it was something no one expected her to do.

And she liked that.

Sounds like Sam, doing something just because no one else does.

We all want to surprise people, don't we?

Keep them guessing as to who we are.

And what's surprising about you?

- Heh. - Leo?

Me? Oh, God. Not so much, I'm afraid.

Sorry to disappoint.

And why don't I believe that?

Are you flirting with me?

- You wish. - Heh, heh.

- The boyfriend. - Uh...

He was being a total douchey dickwad last night.

Now he wants to take me to Sleepy Pines tonight.

Mm.

- Buy me dinner. Says he's sorry. - Whoo.

Sleepy Pines, huh?

- Fancy. - Ha, ha.

At least they let me order drinks with my fake ID.

Mm.

Well, it was nice to see you, Amanda.

And be good.

Good practice, Sam.

Oh, thank God.

You okay? Yeah? Oh...

You can never do that again, do you hear me?

Love you.

Come on, it's okay.

- You all right? Come on. - It's okay.

What about a bath, yeah?

He was down at the river?

You were right about what you said the other night.

You've always been right.

About him needing to change schools.

Getting him the help that he needs.

You understand that means he lives away from us five days a week.

If it's what's best for him.

Pax is studying. A big chemistry test tomorrow.

- I said I'd bring him up a plate. - Mm-hm.

- Did you get bad news from the doctor? - Yeah.

He's got, um--

He's got Alzheimer's, stage four.

Oh, no.

I'm so sorry, honey.

That must be...

- troubling. - Yeah. What's troubling is...

a police detective...

showing up on my father's doorstep at the ass crack of dawn

asking questions about my mom.

Your mother? What about her?

I don't wanna talk about my mom, Candace.

I know.

You never do, and I try to respect that.

I have respected it, but maybe if you did talk about her--

I never talk about her for good reason, Candace.

Secrets only have a power over us for as long as we keep them--

Candace, that sounds like some kind of... self-help therapy--

It isn't. It's your wife who loves you and she's trying to help you--

But you-- You can't, all right? Nobody can.

How do you know? You haven't let me try.

- Where are you going? - I-- I'm sorry, I just-- I gotta go out for a sec, okay?

Difficult night?

Oh, not now, John.

How can I help?

What--? What do--? What do you have in mind?

My Uncle Bob killed himself.

Okay, I'm-- I'm-- I'm sorry about that, John, but-- But--

- But I-- I really gotta-- - Good old Uncle Bob.

Rip-roaring drunk, always the life of the party, almost never sober.

One day, out of the blue, he decides he's gonna quit drinking.

- Went cold turkey. - Mm.

Dumps every drop he's got down the sink,

and he sweats through a week of withdrawals.

Then, sure enough, Bob is officially on the wagon.

- Oh. - Well, what he soon discovered

was that sober Bob was a surly prick.

- His wife leaves him. His kids write him off. - Mm-hm. Mm-hm. Right.

He can't keep his job at the factory.

After...

Bob...

shot himself.

That's some story.

Yeah.

Poor Uncle Bob, he should have stayed drunk.

John.

- Good night, okay? - Okay.

My daughter's name is Iris.

I know most of you know that, but I like saying her name out loud.

Today is the sixth anniversary of her murder.

She was killed by...

I'm not gonna say his name.

You all know who he is.

I was there when she drew her first breath.

I was there...

when she opened her tiny eyes for the first time.

But I wasn't there when she drew her last breath.

When her big sparkly eyes closed for the last time.

What that monster did to my daughter

hollowed me out and just made me nothing.

I have hated him

and I have done such dark and violent things to him in my mind.

And I'm not sorry.

But today...

Today, I forgive him.

What?

What?

I forgive him.

- No. - Yes.

Because I'm tired of hating.

- I need to find some other place-- - But he fucking killed your daughter.

Leo, that language, that sort of comment, is not appropriate here.

I-- I'm sorry, but my pain and grief is not for you.

You come here and you sit there and you're saying nothing

and sharing nothing about who you are.

And what you've lost.

Just getting off on everyone else's pain and suffering.

Do you think that's really fair?

I mean, maybe there's someone you need to forgive, Leo.

You're too good.

Why did you stop?

You're a good kid.

You're a good dad.

Okay.

Yeah.

Monster's really biting tonight, huh?

You got a kindred spirit here, my brother.

- Can I give you some advice? - We're not kindred anything, okay?

We're-- I'm nothing like you, trust me. Just give me the stuff.

It's my stuff.

Until I sell it to you, if I sell it to you.

Come on, Rooster.

- Come on. What's--? What's the problem here? - I don't have a problem.

Can't say the same for you.

Let me give you my money. You give me the stuff, like always.

Let me give you that piece of advice, since I know you're dying to hear it.

Whether our predilections are the same or not, I don't know and I don't need to know,

but a monster is a monster,

- and they all know how to sink their teeth in us. - That's not advice. That's a statement.

- It's complete bullshit. - Yeah, chemical castration.

What the hell, Rooster? I told you, I-- I-- I'm-- I'm--

I'm nothing like you.

My stuff is good, potent for sure,

for all sorts of urges and itches.

But if you wanna kill something mightier...

or at least put it in a manageable stupor,

chemical castration.

- I'm losing my patience, Rooster. - Antiandrogens.

I'm gonna lose my shit in a minute, I swear to God!

- Now go home and give that a good think! - Give me my goddamn stuff!

My house, my shit.

Forgive me, Father...

for I have sinned.

Yes, my son.

I am a murderer.

Who have you murdered?

Eight women.

I've killed eight women.

I'm the Russian River Killer.

I know you are, Leo.

And it's only a matter of time until you kill again.

Ramos, what's up?

Everything okay with Jake?

Yeah.

Everything okay with you?

You called, Ramos, for a reason?

I was thinking of having that chat with Tori McGrath tonight.

Oh, I-- I can't do tonight. Um...

- Listen, I can join you in the morning. - She works mornings.

And I figured given your history with her...

Okay. Um...

Look, you learn anything significant, call me back.

- Great. - Yeah?

Yeah.

Okay, bye.

- Anybody home? - Hold it right there.

What's this about, detective?

Just a few follow-up questions.

Where's your partner?

Family commitment.

Is there somewhere we can speak in private?

Say what you gotta say.

We think there's a possibility Gretchen

may have been involved with prescription pills at school.

Involved how?

Selling.

Do you think it's possible Gretchen may have gotten prescription pills from you?

Where did Gretchen get the pills she was selling, huh?

How should I know? You're the one with all the pills.

That I counted when Gretchen was around because I didn't trust her.

- So you're saying she got them from me? - Let's slow down a minute. Turn the TV off.

You all get your horses and ride on out--

Was Gretchen getting the pills she was selling from you?

Jesus Christ.

She was, wasn't she?

Fine, one or two, here or there. Big deal.

- What the hell, Emilio? - And what kind of arrangement did you have?

Did you cut her in 50-50?

Of course. We split it.

I wasn't some scumbag drug dealer just trying to take advantage of her.

Phillip Zellman?

Is that who you're talking about?

Was Gretchen gonna start selling for him,

leave you and your one or two pill operation behind?

She wasn't leaving me behind, trust me.

Gretchen wouldn't do that.

You asshole.

- You swore to me you weren't! - Wait.

- Were you and Gretchen sleeping together? - You piece of shit!

Hey, don't call me that!

I'm out of here.

Emilio, put your hands where I can see them and turn around.

Tori, I need you to take your son and leave the room.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa! - Oliver, come here. My God!

Let Tori and the boy leave the room, Emilio.

- This is between you and me. - What the hell are you doing?

Gretchen ran away for eight days with that asshole.

You killed her.

Oh...

- I loved her. - You piece of--

Freeze! Police!

Shit!

Shots fired. 1800 block of Caldwell.

We have a 187 suspect, 30-year-old male on foot, heading north.

Hi!

Amanda.

Waiting for someone?

No, no. I'm headed home.

You?

Meeting my boyfriend.

- Don't you remember? Although he's late. - Mm. Huh.

I guess douchey dickwad is really in the dog house now, huh?

Yeah. I think maybe I need to put a collar and leash on him.

Oh, be careful. Some guys like that kind of thing.

Well...

I'm sure he'll be here any minute, huh?

- Question is, will I be? - Ah!

Now, that--

That is a question only you can answer.

Maybe I should catch a ride with you and call it a night.

Happy to give you a lift home if you want.

- Okay. - Yeah.

- Thanks. - Yeah.

Glad I could be here to help out.

Let's get you home safe and sound.

Oh, that's him.

- Finally. - Oh...

Don't tell me you're gonna forgive him that easy.

I'll make him beg, don't worry.

Thanks again for saving me.

You're trapped. Heh.

Sorry.

- Are you? Ha-ha-ha. - Yeah.