All language subtitles for Episode 04 - Dex Takes a Holiday

Previously on Dexter...

Dexter.

How's my favorite serial killer hunter?

The reason I'm in Miami
is because I'm convinced

that these bathtub murders
are connected

to a series of murders
all over the country.

It's always the same three kills with Trinity.

Young woman in a bathtub...

...followed by a mother
falling to her death.

You're next.

If this is the latest victim
of Lundy's Trinity Killer,

then he's a very different
monster than I am.

- Lundy has this theory...
- You don't work for Lundy.

You're welcome to pursue this, but between
the Vacation Murders and Lisa Bell,

I think you're gonna be very busy.

Yes, I did come to Miami
to follow a case,

but I have to admit I'm glad
the killer chose this city,

knowing I'd find you here.

Hey, good news! The Sandpiper Hotel
wants to book my band for a one-month gig.

Best of all, it means

- no more time away from you.
- Wow, that's great.

I'm not gonna tell you
who to date,

but there's no such thing as "off the record"
with reporters, so watch the pillow talk.

Super Agent Lundy has a hunch

that the dead woman is connected
to this big serial killer case.

Lundy always gets his man.

Well, so do I.

Look, I was a little worried
that people will misinterpret.

Let them misinterpret.
I need this as much as you do.

The past few weeks, you have not been
the most present father and husband.

My dark passenger is like
a trapped coal miner,

always tapping,
always letting me know

it's still in there, still alive.

Everyone needs a vacation.

In my case, it's time off for bad behavior.

But I intend to make the most
of this family trip...

that they're taking without me.

- Shotgun!
- Shotgun!

- I called it first.
- I called it inside.

- It doesn't count if you call it inside.
- Does so! Mom! Dexter!

- How about you switch every hour?
- Want to trade places?

I stay home and...

you can stuff cousin Marlene into
some Spanx on her wedding day.

I wish I could, but things are pretty hectic
at the station.

You're not gonna work
the whole time, are you?

I'll try not to.

You can't let yourself get to that
boiling point again. It's not healthy.

And I'd rather not have to lie
to the neighbor again

if you decide to smash
any more security lights.

I hate that you saw me that way.

I'm your wife. I want to know
what's going on inside you.

I don't think you do.

Just recharge your batteries, all right?
Enjoy your freedom.

Go wild.

Right. Go wild.

Have fun.

- Say "Goodbye, Dexter."
- Goodbye, Dexter!

Goodbye, Dexter!
Bye-bye.

The kids left you a present
in the kitchen.

Just the thing to melt a father's heart.

Let the good times roll.

Whoops!

Three days.

72 precious hours
to recharge my batteries.

'Course Rita doesn't know I'll be recharging
with another woman.

Officer Zoey Kruger.

Pembroke Pines patrol.

Eight months ago,
Officer Kruger's husband and daughter

were killed during a home invasion.

Zoey was shot in the arm and foot.

She survived. Obviously.

But there was one person who thought
it was Zoey herself who killed her family.

The one person who always knows
the truth of a crime...

the blood guy.

Morgan. Good to see a friendly face.

Aren't many around here.

Nice to have an excuse to visit.

Even if I made it up.

With your caseload,
I can't believe you have time to write a paper

on feathering and blood swipes.

Well, I have a small window for...

a side project.

And I remembered at
the spatter conference last spring,

you mentioned something about
a questionable swipe

in a case you were working.

Who was it, Cooper?

Kruger, and, shhh, we don't talk about that.

Zoey's husband.
Shot in the stairway.

Her daughter in her bedroom.

Zoey said she was shot twice
wrestling the shooter's gun from him,

and turned it on him as he fled.

That blood swipe
belongs to Darius Rae,

a drug dealer Zoey roughed up
the day before her family was murdered.

According to her, she winged him
in her front hallway.

The feathering is textbook.
Why'd you say it was questionable?

Because it's the only blood of Rae's
anywhere at the scene.

Interesting...

for my paper.

My theory?

Uh, forget it.
Doesn't matter.

You think she planted
the blood herself?

Maybe she even provoked
that confrontation with Darius Rae.

That's where she got his blood.

Also gives her the perfect narrative
for the crime.

Rae breaks in looking
for retribution,

cop's family becomes collateral damage.

Was Darius Rae ever arrested?

Darius Rae was gunned down in
a supposedly gang-related incident.

But that's another theory, another day.

I try not to think about it.

Because if I'm right,

there's a monster
walking around free.

With a badge and a gun.

Zoey said she aimed at Darius Rae
but only winged him.

But Zoey always hits her targets.

Just ask her husband and daughter.

I'm feeling recharged already.

Monsters come in all shapes and sizes.

Sometimes it's the very people
who are supposed to be protecting us:

a cop, a parent,

the spatter guy.

Oh, God. Close the door, will you?

Here's a bludgeoning from July.

The one we're looking for
will be five days after the suicide.

Right. Here's a middle-aged guy
from October.

- Sorry, I thought this was my lab.
- We're hiding from LaGuerta.

Quinn's reporter fuck-buddy has now
officially fucked all three of us.

"Catching the Vacation Murderer may not
be the department's top priority.

"Detectives spent last Thursday
indulging the pursuits of

"retired FBI manhunter, Frank Lundy."
It's a good picture.

I'm guessing that Lieutenant LaGuerta's
open-door policy with me...

is about to close.

We've got to narrow down
Trinity's next move.

Bludgeoning.
Final kill in his cycle?

And he's repeating his pattern
from 30 years ago,

so if we can find where
he bludgeoned back then...

Then maybe we can keep the next Trinity
victim from becoming the next Trinity victim.

Where's Masuka?

On vacation?

He's probably in Mexico
taking a donkey show tour.

There's a briefing in five minutes.

Agent Lundy...

My visitor's badge has expired?

Sorry.

Crap. Fuck.

I guess we'll have to stake out potential
bludgeoning sites on my off hours.

Hey.

I don't want this theory of mine
to jeopardize your job.

I want in on this.

- Well, OK, then.
- OK, then.

You ever feel like you're this close
to nabbing somebody?

Sometime in the next 67 hours.

It's a good feeling.

Oh, my God!
I can't believe he posted that.

- You are so busted.
- I'm busted?

OK, it's totally Photoshopped.
The point is it looks real, so...

You're busted!

Shh!

I know, I know, my dick's been making
some bad decisions.

So according to Quinn's girlfriend,

these Vacation Murders are costing the city
900,000 tourist dollars a day.

Well, at least the article
got the tip line ringing.

Those assholes can't hide with
all those eyes on them.

Well, those eyes are on us too.

Uh-oh.

What "Oh"?

That sigh thing
you do when, you know,

- there's something I'm not gonna like.
- I don't do a sigh thing.

OK, you don't.

What was it that you were gonna say?

I think we should inform the brass
about our relationship.

Look, it's just a formality.

Paperwork.
Entirely confidential.

- It's none of their business.
- It's department policy for good reason.

We will catch these killers,

and the defense attorney
could use the details

of an off-the-books romance between us
to sensationalize the case,

- distract the jury...
- If they find out.

On a death penalty case?

OK, they will find out.

But not for a while.

And what would we even
report to the brass?

- Well, that we're seeing each other.
- What does that mean?

- What do you think it means?
- It means it's new.

We're still figuring it out.

- So this could just be a passing thing.
- No, it's not a passing thing.

Then what is it?

- I don't know.
- Well, I don't know either.

- I'm confused.
- Yeah. I can see that.

Can we just... wait?

Fine.

As a cop, Zoey has been
to plenty of crime scenes.

She knows what should be there
and what shouldn't.

No prints in the blood on the door,
which means she wore gloves.

She was still wearing gloves
when she shot herself,

but they were gone
when the EMTs arrived.

Where'd you leave
those gloves, Zoey?

Easier to think here, isn't it?

Only 52 hours of freedom left.

You sure chose an interesting person
to spend it on.

Don't read anything into it.
Zoey was a challenge, that's all.

A woman who wiped out her own family
in order to be free.

She should have shot herself
instead of her husband and child.

Yeah. Except that doesn't get her free.

Just dead.

Well, she had other options.

Alimony. Visitation.

Trading off holidays,
there go your weekends.

Fine. She could have moved away.

And forfeit her job?
Her home?

Her only option
was to make her vacation

from her family
as permanent as possible.

There are always alternatives.

Why do you think
Trinity's been so successful?

He travels a lot.

Stays on the move.

He doesn't have a family.

Well, I do.

Miss them yet?

All right, Trinity used a hammer
in Portland and in Fresno,

but wasn't it a tire iron
in Albuquerque?

OK, all right. We'll go with the dude
that was pulverized by the hammer.

Where was that?

OK, what time tomorrow?
Great.

- Pad Thai, my favorite.
- Mmm.

- How's Frank Lundy?
- I didn't say that was Lundy.

Oh, your voice did.

It goes up a notch every time
you talk to him,

which you're doing a lot of lately.

Your point?

I get a gig in town
to spend more time with you.

You spend all your time with your ex.

Our relationship
is strictly professional.

You twist your hair
when you talk to him.

You have nothing to be jealous of
when it comes to Frank Lundy.

All right?

Poker night at home.

Zoey's police family surrounds her
on and off the job.

Between her buddy system
and her security system,

her house will be difficult
to break in tonight.

But not tomorrow.

Cunt.

What the hell did you just say?

You're a cunt!

Fuck off, old man.

Fucking pussy!

You looking to get
the shit kicked out of you?

Faggot!

You gonna shut up now?

Faggot.

Faggot.

It's your fault.

The fuck is wrong with you?

All your fault.

The living room is here to the left,
kitchen in the back,

and way out back is the hot tub.

Ah, welcome, welcome, welcome.

Oh, you're gonna love this house.

Newer construction,
only one previous owner,

all sorts of upgrades.

Come on, let me show you
its special wonders.

Uh, would it be all right if I discovered
those special wonders on my own?

Any questions, just holler.

I do have one question:

where did Zoey stash her gloves?

I'm sure they're long gone,
but they could have left trace evidence.

She swiped the door
with blood here.

Shoots herself, collapses.

Crawls toward the kitchen to call 911.

Did she burn them?

If the gloves melted, there would be residue
on the underside of the grate.

It's just for show.

Who needs a fire in this climate?

- I'm Zoey. I live here.
- Hey.

I just thought I'd stop by,
see how the open house was going.

Oh. It's a nice place.

Thanks.

Family friendly.

Mm.

I'll be glad to give you a tour
if you're interested.

Very interested.

OK, follow me.

Wow, my daughter would
go crazy over this room.

It's a little girl's dream.

May I ask why you're selling?

My husband and I are separated.

Now our daughter's with him.

So you're single.

I am.

You've been married long?

Uh, yes, about six months.

Uh... That came out wrong.

I understand.

Believe me.

Zoey, there's a couple here
who have a question about the hot tub.

OK, I'll be right down.

- To be continued.
- Sure.

A little girl's dream.

Follow the blood.

Follow the blood...

Zoey crawled into the kitchen,

grabbed the counter to pull herself up,

then reached for the phone,

giving her a perfect opportunity...
to use the garbage disposal.

How we doing in here?

Uh, there seems to be
a problem with the disposal.

Oh. Oh.

Oh, no, no, no.

It's probably just something jammed
in there. It's an easy fix.

Let me take a look.

- You'd do that?
- Sure.

Blue nitrile. The same material
found in police protective gloves.

If the glove fits...

Isn't he a doll? Fixing the disposal.

Huh. Wasn't broken this morning.

Give it a try.

All right.

Yay!

If I was your wife,

I'd hang on to you.

You're so... handy.

So it's either the cannery bludgeoning
or the bar beating.

The cannery body was a dump.

Trinity's not a dumper.

He picks a location,
takes his victims there.

So it's the bar.

Hmm.

Fuckin' A.

We've found Trinity's
30-year-old kill site.

- Oh! Oh, no, oh!
- Here, here, here.

- Fuck me.
- Take the file, take the file.

No harm.

Um... Mind if I...?

Yeah, sure, why don't you?

So, uh, 30 years ago,

a father of two
was bludgeoned to death

between the hours
of 7 and 10 p.m.

in the bathroom of Murphy's Tavern.

Which is where I'll be today.

Me too.

Won't that be a problem with Ashton?

Anton.

And, no, he's cool.

Sort of.

Sort of?

He gets jealous for no reason.

He's a smart man.

Look...

don't make me come up
with thought bubbles

to put over those silent looks of yours.

Just say what you're thinking.

All right.

I, uh...

I thought I could keep my feelings for you

as background noise
to this investigation.

But, in working with you...

that noise has gotten...

Loud?

Deafening.

But they're my feelings.

Yup.

They're your feelings.

You're in a committed relationship.

I am.

And I would hate to...

I'd hate that too.

Jesus.

I've gotta go.

Will I see you tonight?

I don't...

Fuck!

Is there a break
in the Vacation Murders case?

I'm having intimate relations with LaGuerta.

Congratulations?

I need some advice.

Huh, lot of wise people out there.

I don't trust anyone else
with this secret.

That's too bad.

Maria has awakened...

mi pasión.

Right.

When I'm with her,
I feel like a man.

Like my heart is blossoming.

- That's a problem?
- No.

The problem is she wants to disclose
our relationship to the higher-ups,

which I-I understand is a formality.

I just hate the thought
of them knowing.

- Because you're embarrassed.
- No.

Because once you define it, it's defined.

It's-it's-it's officially official.

- You're her boyfriend.
- Exactly.

Next thing you know,
you're moving in, your life is gone,

and it's just kids
and neighbors and painted mugs.

- Painted mugs?
- It's a metaphor.

For what?

Look, if you want out, get out.

Before you have to do
something drastic.

I don't want out. I don't.

I just want to protect it

by keeping it private.

Yeah.

Who knew it would matter
so much to me?

Thanks, socio.

I'll keep you posted on the details.

Great.

I am a stickler for details.

You still dating
that she-bag reporter?

- Is it that hard for you to get laid?
- I'm not...

After she put Lundy's name in the paper
and ruined everything?

I'm not seeing her.

Maybe you should have told her that.

Newsflash, Quinn:
you're an idiot.

Yeah, I got your messages.

But you didn't call me back.

Tell me, is this conversation
gonna end up in the paper too?

You have no idea the shitstorm
you've got me into.

I'm sorry.

Really, but...

we can work this out.

I'm not interested in working it out.

Don't say that.

Come on, it's not like
this was a big deal.

Don't you dare tell me
there's nothing here.

You're right, I won't.

But it's way too complicated.

- I don't want to lose you.
- Christine.

You never had me.

Find yourself another source.

On vacation,
we buy snow globes,

send postcards to preserve
the good times,

remind us where we've been.

Zoey's crime scene
had its own memento...

a glove whose rolled cuff preserved
the gunshot residue after she shot herself.

And blood.

Odds are it belongs
to the late Darius Rae.

Ah, Zoey, wish you were here.

But since you're not...

I'll come to you.

I should get to Pembroke Pines
just in time to follow Officer Kruger home.

Original structure
was a single-story tavern.

Current building:

12 floors, mostly vacant.

I'm found.

Lobby's open 24 hours, guard on duty,
too much foot traffic.

Trinity would have to choose another floor.

Ooh! Uh, I'm so sorry.
I wasn't watching where I was going.

No damage done.

Excuse me.

You dropped these.

Thanks.

Bus number 432.

White male, maybe 6'4",

200, 220 pounds,

age around 60,

hair gray, eyes blue...

something in them.

Maybe I do miss Rita and the kids...

Hello?

Hi, it's me.

Oh, uh, hey, guys, keep it down.

I was just checking in.

Oh, we have the rehearsal dinner
in 20 minutes and...

Astor, your dress
is getting wrinkled.

Sounds like you got your hands...

Cody, put your shoes on.
I'm sorry, what were you saying?

I was just saying
you probably have your hands...

- Mom, Cody pulled my barrettes out.
- It was an accident.

You took them
right off my head.

I'm sorry, I didn't hear
what you were saying.

It was nothing.

Uh, we gotta go. Love you.

Me...

...too.

Shit.

Going the speed limit,
hands-free dialing,

no violations.

This is bad.

What a coincidence.

Out of the vehicle, please.

Hands on the hood, please.

My wife and I changed our mind
about buying a house.

Dexter Morgan.

You didn't mention that
you were a, uh, spatter analyst,

Miami Metro.

Didn't seem relevant
to house hunting.

Hmm.

Well, the file clerk at my station,

he's a friend.

He told me that Sam
had pulled my case file,

and Sam told me
he'd loaned it to a colleague.

You can imagine my surprise when I looked
up that colleague and saw your face.

I am writing a paper
on blood swipes.

- Are you getting off on this?
- Am I supposed to be?

Are you the kind of sicko
who likes watching a woman in pain?

Not that kind of sicko, no.

I lost my husband.

I watched my child die
in front of me.

Do you have any idea
how agonizing that was?

Agony would be
the normal reaction.

I will not let that wound be reopened.

Do you understand?

Traffic's heavy on Brickell.

Might want to avoid it
on your way home.

Was, uh...

3319 Meadow Lane, right?

I'm letting you off with a warning.

Drive carefully.

I'm calling it off.

You can't.

She knows who you are.

She knows who Dexter Morgan,
lab geek, is.

She knows where you live,

where your wife and children will be
when they get home in 48 hours.

If I back off, she backs off.

Still leaves you
on the radar of a killer cop

who has no qualms
about shooting her family,

much less a lab rat.

She's stalking me. Taking her by surprise
will be out of the question.

You're the one
who wanted a challenge.

And now you've batted the beehive.

Dexter, Frank Lundy here.

Sorry to bother you at home.

Just trying to reach your sister.

Thought she was maybe with you.

I had an interesting encounter today.

Me too.

Gotta admit, she is impressive.

Makes you wonder why someone like her

ever got married and had kids
in the first place.

Someone like her?

Someone like her
needs to be in control.

And if she thinks she is...

She won't see me coming.

Pembroke Pines
Police Department.

Records, please?

Transferring.

Records, Langsbury speaking.

Uh, yeah, this is Miami Metro Forensics.

I wanted to request copies
of a suspect's file.

Suspect's name?

Uh, Darius Rae.

That's Rae with an "e".

Drug dealer and alleged killer
of Zoey Kruger's family.

What is this in regard to?

Uh... It involves the Vacation Murders case.

I'll send the file over.

To whose attention?

Just, uh, Forensics.

Batting the beehive.

Dexter.

I know everything.

I'm gonna choose
not to misinterpret that.

When Angel said
he told you about us, I was...

angry, to say the least.

I really didn't want to know.

- But now you do.
- Yeah.

Actually, I'm glad because I could really use
a man's opinion on how to handle...

our relationship.

Or fling, or whatever it is
that he and I are doing naked.

Well, I was just going to lunch.

That's great.

Beth's café sound good?

Oh, actually, we should... just talk here.

- It's more private.
- Yeah.

Angel's a great cop.
The best I know.

But he doesn't understand
the politics in this building.

And we have to manage
how this thing becomes public.

And if it's handled wrong,
our jobs could be at risk.

And we can't take that chance.

I...

Never leave anything to chance.

Thank you.

You're getting good
at this relationship stuff.

Mm, marriage agrees with you.

Thank you.

Lundy called last night.
He was trying to reach you.

That is just so...

fucking great.

OK.

Looks like the beehive is buzzing.

And here comes the sting.

You're out of your jurisdiction,
Officer Kruger.

Wait for it.

W-w-what are you doing?

You want info on Darius Rae?

Ask me anything.

That file was for a case I'm working.

I asked you nicely

to leave me alone.

You threatened me.

- You think that was a threat?
- What, are you gonna murder me too?

Like you murdered your family?

Your own daughter?

- You're sick.
- I know what you did.

I have proof.

Not possible.

From the garbage disposal,
the gloves you wore that night.

There was gun residue on them.

I have a meeting with
my superiors tomorrow morning

to tell them everything.

There's no chain of custody.

Still, it'll raise questions.

And if you left this much behind,
we'll find something else.

You're trying to rape me.

I'm not touching you.

That's why you came to my house.

And the real estate agent will testify
that you were flirting with me.

And then you stalked me here
and tried to assault me.

- And I had to defend myself.
- Except...

the blowback of my blood
into the muzzle of your gun

will show a flat contact shot
that's highly unlikely during a struggle.

Mm.

You could shoot me center mass,

but the low directionality will show
I was in a defensive position.

You'd have to calculate
the exact distance

to create a spatter pattern
that supports self-defense.

Go ahead.

Tell them.

No one is going to believe you

over me.

So please...

tell them...

everything.

You won't give me the chance.

I'm counting on it.

Debra.

You're here.

- I called because, Trinity, I think...
- Shut up.

This time she won't come in a squad car.

This time it won't be about
threats and intimidation.

This time, it's for real.

They're all props,

the camouflage of a family man.

She'll believe them.

She has no idea who I am,

but I know exactly who she is.

Marco...

...Polo.

She's going to make it look like
I walked in on a home robbery,

got myself killed.

She's good at creating
the narrative of a crime.

That hand's the first thing I cut off.

Surprise.

Help. Help!

Help!

Sorry, sorry, I was just
buying your tickets.

You're taking a boat out of the country.

Eventually you'll land
in the Philippines.

You're smart.
There's no extradition treaty there.

I'm not going anywhere.

I know something about
creating a narrative too.

Suitcases packed,
your car will be left at the port,

and the blue glove
is back in your disposal.

You'll flee the country.

Pshoo!

Never be caught.

You're that good.

Or that dead.

You're gonna rape and kill me?

What is it with you and rape?
No one's raping anyone.

Mm, killing on the other hand...

Why are you doing this to me?

Why did you do this to them?

It was Darius Rae.

No, you wanted out.

You wanted your freedom

from the constant demands.

They took it all,

and they wanted more.

I couldn't breathe.

You did it to survive.

You understand.

I understand, all right.

Look at you.

What kind of father does this?

What kind of husband?

Not the kind who kills his family.

You're going to have to choose.

Not what you chose.

You can't hide what you are.

Oh, I can.

I'm better at it than you.

You will choose
your life over theirs.

I won't.

I'd rather risk them knowing the truth...

than lose them.

Wow, wow.

Oh.

I don't want to lose them.

I don't.

That's the difference between us.

Nice souvenir.

Sure you don't want to stay here?

You didn't raise a loner, Dad.

Maybe I should have.

I'll survive.

You sure?

Better see to that drip, son.

You don't want this place
going to hell.

You need it too much.

My own little vacation spot.

Hey, how you guys
doing up there?

We're on our way.
We left right after the wedding.

We should be home soon.

Good, I'm glad.

The house!

Don't hurry. Drive safe.

You're home!

Yeah, we made it.

The wedding was exhausting.

The kids were a nightmare.

I wanted to strangle them.

Oh, no.

Yeah, it just slipped out of my hand.

Sorry.

Oh, the kids will be excited
to make you a new one.

Mmm.

I missed you so much.

I missed you too.

I'm a fuckwad.

You're not a fuckwad.

I knew.

From the second I saw you at the station,
I knew how I felt.

It's how I've always felt.

I just wouldn't admit it.

Because I'm a fuckwad.

You're human.

And now I've cheated on a guy

who doesn't deserve
to be treated that way.

I should have broken up with him first.

- But I'm a fuckwad.
- No. Don't.

You're not.

You're beautiful.

And you were confused.

And now you're not.

So...

we'll set this right, together.

All right?

Don't go disappearing on me again.

Not a...

Stay with me.