All language subtitles for Panhandle.S01E03.WEBRip.x264-ION10

[wildlife chittering, chirping]

I was fluffing the pillow.

It's fine.
We don't need to talk--

I was fluffing.

I was not humping.

That pillow
did not represent Vida.

I was not simulating
intercourse with a pillow,

despite the plausibility issues
of my alternate explanation--

Please stop.

If not for me,
then for your own self-respect.

I was surprised to learn
that you were looking
into Vida's murder.

I heard you moved on.

That certainly would have
been the healthy choice.

I think you'd agree
it's a question that can't
be left unanswered.

It's already been answered.

The official police account
is true.

The two of you fought.

Vida ran to the swamp
to buy drugs

and was killed by a junkie

who valued her diamonds
more than her life.

Well, that is just
the simple answer,
and you know it.

Mira, pendejo,
I know my daughter

certainly better
than you ever did.

No, you do not.

And I resent that.

When she was in pain,
she did drugs,

and she was in pain.

Whatever lies Vida told you,

she spent most of her time
in our Rosemary Beach house
before she died

because she needed
to get away from you.

I don't believe that.

Nobody wishes for their
child's marriage to fall apart,
but I prayed for it...

and was grateful
there was another man

who brought something
other than misery
into her life.

Stop this ridiculous
investigation

and go back
to whatever it is you do.

Get out of my house.

-Her drug use, her death.
-Get out.

The perpetrator
you're hunting is yourself.

You're a child, Bell.

A spoiled, drunk child.

[wistful music playing]

I should've done this
a long time ago.

It would have saved you.

Well, if you're gonna do it,
do it already.

[somber music playing]

[dramatic music playing]

[grunts]

Bellwether, not again!

I tried to shed my mortal coil.

You and I both know
that the roof is plagued
with wood rot.

That would definitely not work.

But why did you even try?

Alejandro stopped by.

-[sighs]
-He called me a spoiled child.

Oh, baby, don't listen to him.

How about
I run you a bath, huh?

I'll make some hot cocoa.
You love hot cocoa.

I'll be right back.

[grunting]

[hip-hop music playing]

Bill Mason of "The Cockpits"?

Yeah, that's me.

You're under arrest
for the murder of Mel Doppler.

Not cool, bro.

Guess you were in such a hurry,
you couldn't even let me
get dressed first, huh?

[laughs]

Enough, The Rock but dumber.

I'm innocent, all right?

Okay, John Cena but dumber.

I have an alibi.

Based on a bogus phone call

that establishes
the wrong time of death.

And I have proof,

Dave Bautista but dumber.

[clears throat]

[cell phone ringing]

Hello.

[softly]
Mel Doppler's murder...

what was that thing
about the pair of futons?

No, periphytons.

Fuck is that?

Uh, freshwater organisms.

They establish
the time of death.

You sound like crap,
by the way.

Hmm.

[phone beeps]

[exhales sharply]

Periphytons, Bill.

Fuck is that?

They establish a time frame

that you don't have
an alibi for.

So we have motive,

we have means, and...

we have that third thing.

Oh, please.

I'll do, like, half the max.
That's five years.

I can do that
standing on my head.

Don't you have
a two-year-old son?

I'll make it up
on the other side.

Oh, right. [scoffs]

So you're just gonna lie around

while some woman
raises your child alone?

Then you'll waltz back in
with a toy barbell set and say,

[in gravelly, deep voice]
"Hey, kid,

let's pick up
where we left off"?

Oh, man, you're a mess.

-[normal voice] I'm a mess?
-Yeah.

-Seriously?
-Yeah.

Have you heard yourself?

What's really bugging you,

murder or the fact
that I'm a piece-of-shit dad?

'Cause only one of those
is illegal.

Murder.

Murder bugs me.

[quirky music playing]

-Well, hello.
-Hey.

Really, Urleen? You like this?

-I like a big man.
-I'm big everywhere.

Yeah, I doubt that,
given the steroids.

Oh, that just affects
the testes.

-Good to know.
-[hissing]

-Whoa, good catch.
-Yeah.

I found it
under the mayor's couch.

If you're wondering
where the office cat is,

I got your answer right here.

Oh, shit. Is the mayor okay?

Physically. He did cry
like a little man-bitch.

[both chuckle]

But I couldn't really
enjoy it today.

Mm?

'Cause of what happened
with Bell last night?

Maybe a little something
in your stomach will help.

Mm, that's a fine idea, Mother.

Welcome to the manic part
of manic depression.

[exhales deeply]

I am fine.

Do you hear me?
I am totally fine!

I am A-okay!

You seem fine.

Yeah, he seems real healthy.

[doorbell buzzing]

I brought him some books on
how to recover from infidelity.

Bell is stapling.

-That's not good.
-Alejandro paid him a visit.

-Oh.
-I was sleeping.

Otherwise I would have...
[sighs] shot him?

What the hell happened?

Attempted hanging
and some staples.

-Staples?
-Yeah.

Where is he?

Let's get up, buddy. [sighs]

[Bell] I can't move.

I'm a paralytic zounderkite.

[quirky somber music playing]

I think you're depressed.

Though to be honest,

I didn't think depression
was stackable with agoraphobia.

I thought it was like
psoriasis and eczema--

your body just
sort of picks one.

That didn't work.

Oh, maybe I could read to you.

It always works with Tyler.

Okay, um...

"Chapter One:
Don't Get Mad, Get the House."

Hmm, catchy.

Draws me in.

"How long should you stay angry
after a profound betrayal?"

Oh, I don't get angry.

I smoke too much weed
and my anger receptors
are shot.

Awesome.

"No matter the size
of the betrayal,

the rule stays constant:

indulge your anger
for one week,

and then move on."

One week?

What the hell is this shit?

It got a bunch
of five-star reviews.

-Mm-mm.
-Oh.

[clears throat]

I'm gonna go
keep Ms. Millie company.

Excuse me.

I know
about cheating partners, okay?

I'm still pissed as hell,

and there's nothing wrong
with that.

You get to be upset.

It's totally okay.

[wistful music playing]

[theme music playing]

He needs professional help.

He's burned through every
therapist in North Florida.

He thinks
he's smarter than everyone.

-He is.
-Mm.

We have to help him...

or commit him, one of the two.

That-- That mirror is gonna
give me nightmares.

I...

This guy Alvarez,

he's a doctor of psychology
at Florida State.

[Millicent] Mm.

Yeah, but he teaches
at Florida State.

Wait.

Harvard, Johns Hopkins...

Oprah,

and he just gave a TED Talk
on suicide prevention.

[chuckles]

[Alvarez] The pain
I want you never to know

is the permanent, agonizing
state of self-inquisition...

[women sobbing]

"Did I do my best
in the collective effort

that might have
saved their lives?"

Okay, fine.

Fine, Alvarez it is. [sniffles]

We just have to find him.

I can find him.

In a way that doesn't
make me have to arrest you?

Let me make a few calls.

-Okay.
-Okay.

-Are you okay?
-I'm okay.

-[glass shatters]
-Oh!

Hungry?

-That's a good sign.
-Mm.

Um, if there's some swelling,

why don't you try
a little ibuprofen, dear?

Mm, it's not for swelling.

I'm feeding myself
to William Moseley.

[quirky music playing]

Eat me, you ignoramus!

This is top sirloin!

You have less than a tablespoon
of brains, and it shows!

Bell, you've got
to stop this, okay?

It's unfair to everyone.

Your mother's in there
suffering!

I think. It's hard to tell.

You told me you understood

the extreme nature
of my personal torment.

Yeah, I said I understood it,

not that it gave you permission
to hang yourself

from a rotten ceiling.

[sobbing] Vida was hiding
at her parents' beach house

and canoodling with her lover.

Beach house?
You never mentioned that.

I didn't know she was there
until last night.

Well, Bell,
there could be clues there.

I don't want clues.

This is my life,
and I want to be done with it!

[grunts in frustration]

You know, killing yourself
isn't the only way
to end suffering.

You ever think
of taking responsibility
for what happened?

[scoffs]

Guilt ends suffering?

What kind of perverted Buddhism
is that?

[sighs] No, no, not guilt.
Truth.

Look, there's a saying:
"The truth will heal"--

No, thanks!

That's almost
the exact same thing

my bastard father-in-law
told me last night.

You didn't let me finish.

"The truth will heal you,
but first, it'll fuck you,"

and not in a loving,
consensual way.

I am taking to my bed.

[sighs]

I got a list
of Dr. Alvarez's recent orders.

Digital soil thermometer,

John Coltrane CDs...

-Who still buys CDs?
-Mm.

Florida.

Analog soil thermometer,

sulfuric acidifier,

Coco One-Steps.

-That's a tomato thing.
-Oh.

[gasps happily]

He's a bluehead.

Ah, I got this.

[Alvarez] That color.

-My God, you're an artist.
-[chuckles]

What's the secret?

Eggshells and alligator scat.

I'll text you the proportions.

You'd seriously share that?

To help spread nature's beauty?

Why on Earth not?

I may even consider
sharing a cutting.

Well, if there's ever
anything I can do
to repay you, I--

If we're being honest...

[sighs]

My son
is struggling emotionally,

and there just aren't
many good therapists out here,

certainly not like you,
Dr. Alvarez.

What did you say his name was?

I don't care
if he was on Oprah.

And it was '88.

That was trashy Oprah,
not good Oprah!

And why didn't anyone ask me
if I wanted this?

Because you would've said no.

You have your own
unresolved issues

and compulsive behaviors,

but there's no magical shrink
landing on your roof,

presuming you have one.

What do you mean
by "compulsive behavior"?

Nothing.

-Say it.
-No.

Come on. Come on, say it.

Your appetite for, uh,

casual, meaningless--

Ah, see, if I were a man,

all that'd get me is
an "attaboy," and you know it.

Also, why are you
wearing a tux?

I like this suit,

and I'd only worn it twice.

What should I have done,
business casual?

No, you should have worn
real clothes that don't smell.

Now.

[Bell sighs]

Do it for the tomatoes.

I will.

She's working him.

Yeah, you're probably right.

Definitely bring that up
to your therapist.

Yeah.

All right, go.

Do it.
Prince of Tides this shit.

Standard intake sessions
are 90 minutes,

but with my profile,
you'll take half the day.

Your initial questions
will pertain

to possible cerebral trauma
and other somatic factors.

Then you'll cover the bases
on childhood sexual abuse,

chemical dependence, violence,

arrest,
and/or institutionalization.

How was that?
Was that everything
you hoped for?

[sighs]

Good luck.

[whimsical music playing]

You know, it's probably
not the greatest choice
to have guns in the house.

Indigo, Bell's father,
hated guns.

He knew that I loved them.

He knew I needed
that sense of power. [chuckles]

If you don't mind me asking,
what happened to Bell's dad?

Six years ago,

he got rip-roaring drunk

and he fell off the hayloft.

Broke his neck.

Wow.

That...

sucks.

What sucked harder

is that Bell found him.

That-- that does suck harder.

How did he handle it?

He didn't handle it.

He handled me.

My grief, my suffering.

He didn't have any time
for himself...

And no time for Vida.

That wasn't your fault.

Yes, it was.

No kid should have
to fix their parent.

[gasps]

[sniffles] Oh, God.

I'm sorry.

I don't know what's going on.

You're thinking about Tyler.

You'll have him
for your whole life, you know.

My parents, they, um--

[sniffles] They didn't believe
in the whole lifetime thing.

I won't ever
let anything hurt my Ty.

Not his father, not me.

Nobody's gonna hurt my boy.

[Alvarez] You describe
two people

who barely communicated.

What do you believe
caused this failure?

Me.

I did, 100%.
Asked and answered.

-I win.
-No, you don't.

-That was evasion.
-I'm taking responsibility.

-But for what?
-Everything.

It's very courageous.

I feel like
I'm being an awesome patient

and you're not
recognizing me for it.

Bell, you're holding on
to a secret,

and it's poisoning you.

Tell him, Bell.
About your father--

I don't want
to talk about my father!

[clears throat] Or my mother.

A man finds out
his wife cheated.

The affair was his fault,
and it led to her murder.

Man hangs himself,
then tries to feed himself
to an alligator.

It's a tale as old as time.

It's virtually a cliche
at this point.

The end. [chuckles]

You know what? Screw it.
You're just like
all the other shrinks.

Do the hallucinations
soothe you or disturb you?

What hallucinations?

The ones projecting right here.

Are you in control of them,
or are they in control of you?

Bell, you're not up
for a journey

to the core of your soul,

fine, but find a way to live.

Broadly, we're looking
at panic disorder

manifesting in agoraphobia,

narcissistic
personality traits,

and somehow, oddly,

both elements
of bipolar I and bipolar II.

What's the fix?

Well, honestly,
I told him to get a hobby.

Bell mentioned
a project he was doing.

From what I can piece together,
he stopped,

then soon after,
the suicide attempt.

He was trying
to find his wife's killer.

-He should get back to that.
-Hmm.

Because he needs closure.

No, he could knit a sweater,
for all I care.

He just needs to do something.

Well, I was helping him,
but we sort of--

sort of hit a dead end, so...

Well-- Well, what if someone

broke through that dead end?

Oh, you.

You have an exceptional ability

to overcome obstacles.

I've seen it.

Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no.

No, no,
I will not be manipulated.

-Oh, no.
-No. Can you hear me?

I'm out. Count me out.

Damn it.

[women giggling]

Oh, hey, Cammie.

Hey, Bitty.
Just here to pick up Ty.

[chuckles]

Hey, bug, what's going on

besides this thing
that you have on your head?

We're talking
about our feelings.

Trish is mad.

Odell didn't even
notice my hair.

Maybe now that
you're all detective and shit,

you can find out
who he's looking at,

'cause it sure as shit
ain't me.

Ty...

did you tell Trish
that Mommy's a detective?

When I was his age,

I told everyone
Mama did Beyonce's hair.

Ooh, that head.

I could've made the queen
an empress.

[chuckles]

Baby, we don't say things
that aren't true.

You caught two bad guys.

Huh, I thought all you did
was annoy the crap

out of everybody
with those dang tickets.

[laughter]

Actually,
I arrested two murderers.

-Wait, you did what?
-What?

-Mm-hmm.
-Yeah!

Yeah, I may not be
an official detective,

but in case
y'all were wondering,
I am good at this.

-Oh, okay, queen.
-Okay.

As a matter of fact, Bianca,
can you keep watching Ty?

Gotta go to the beach
and look for some clues.

[Tyler] I wanna go!

Ms. Millicent gave me a book
about the beach.

If I was doing Beyonce's hair,
I'd take Bianca.

She would.

Just saying.

[Cammie] Okay,
so I'm gonna look for clues,
and you're gonna look for...

-Sand dollars?
-Nice!

Oh, bet
there's a bunch over there

at the end of the beach, huh?

-'Cause of the tides.
-What?

How'd you get so smart?

[chuckles]

I'm gonna get some
for Ms. Millicent.

Hey.

Hey.

Gonna tell you something
about your grandparents.

You do have a grandma
and a grandpa.

They're somewhere, but, um...

a long time ago,

when I was your age,

they decided they had to leave.

Why?

It's complicated.

Did they love you?

I don't know.

And I don't know
where they are, so I can't ask.

I didn't tell you,
and that was wrong.

It's not good for families

when people keep secrets
from each other.

So let's promise, you and I,
never to do that, okay?

Hey. Hey, you know what?

Ms. Millicent
loves whale bones.

[both giggle]

She likes to use them
to stir cocktails,

so why don't you go
look for them over there

and I'll look over here, okay?

Okay.

[suspenseful music playing]

[Spanish hip-hop music playing]

[imperceptible]

[tense music playing]

The hell is that?

[Tyler] Mom,
there's no whale bones.

I'm coming to your spot.

No, sweetie.

We need dune grass.
Pick some of that.

[Spanish hip-hop continues]

-[paper rips]
-[grunts]

You can have one next
if you want.

[grunts]

Oh, shit.

Oye.

How can you two be so stupid?

You have no self-control.
Transporting off-book product
to Tampa?

Oh, relax, we send
a dozen trucks every week.

One little box off one truck
is not a problem, okay?

No one will know.

I know.

And if I do, anyone can.

You both are only part
of El Calvero Spirits
as long as I allow it.

It was all Yasiel.

I had nothing
to do with it, okay?

-[paper rips]
-Ow! What are you doing?

Whatever.

-Read the room!
-Sorry.

Oh, shit.

[dramatic music playing]

Come on, we gotta go.
Come on. Come on.

Okay.

Wait. Mom, look.

Cool. More water.

No, it's a "essotery."

I think
you mean estuary, honey.

Wait, I wanna look!

Maybe some other time, Ty,
but we gotta go home,
all right? Come on.

Please? I love estuaries.

Yeah? What's your favorite
thing about estuaries, huh?

They have two kinds of water.

Whoa, two kinds of water?

That does sound cool.
How does that work?

Sometimes
the swamp water goes down.

Other times,
the ocean water goes up.

Whoa, that is neat. Buckle up.

We'll come back real soon
and take a look, okay?

Wait, did you say
that the water can flow
in either direction?

Huh, okay.

Excuse me, Officer.
Do you have a moment?

My name is Alejandro Perez.

Yes. How can I help you?

For one, can you explain
what a police officer
from Boggsville

is doing here
on Rosemary Beach?

Oh, just taking my boy
to the beach.

I think that's what we Cubans
call "un tremendo paquete,"

which translates
to "big package,"
but means "big lie."

Like I always told my children,

don't wander too far
from your own beach.

It dirties the sand and...

confuses the lifeguards.

And like
I've always told my child,

all Florida shoreline
is public,

so go to whatever beach
you want.

You say that to your child?

Yes, I do.

Early interest
in, um, property rights.

Have a blessed day.

[tense music playing]

[liquid gurgling]

-[electricity crackling]
-[gasping]

[grunts]

You Tasered me!

I can name six worse things
you've done to your body today.

[screams]

I might have a lead.

I went to Rosemary Beach.

-The Perez house?
-Mm-hmm.

What did you observe?

Well, for starters,
I saw a man get his anus waxed

by what I suspect to be
adult film entertainers.

Mm, that'd be
Vida's brother Yasiel.

And I met the dad.

He threatened me.
Those people have
some serious shit to hide.

All families
have things to hide,
but how does that help us?

I need specifics.

I don't have specifics.

-Well, what do you have?
-Doubt.

I now doubt
the official police accounts,

so you can either
get your ass off the couch,
help me figure this out,

or I can get back
to my fucking life.

Which one is it?

I am humoring you,

reluctantly.

The Perez house would be there.

Yeah, yeah,
that's the estuary I saw.

Can you bring up
the weather system

for the day Vida was killed?

Yes, although
to what end escapes me.

I need to look at water levels.

What? It's a thing.
I looked it up, okay?

[typing]

Okay, now, can you shift
through the time

between when you last saw Vida
and when her body was found?

[chimes]

Yeah. Yes, a storm surge.

See, that's the thing
that I looked up.

See that? So usually,

water from the estuary
flows from the swamp,

but tidal surges cause the
estuaries to flow backwards.

So that night,

water flowed
from the gulf to the swamp.

The cops assumed that Vida
was killed at the swamp,

but really, she could have
been killed at the beach

and then washed into the swamp.

[sighs]

The investigation
was predicated

on a false assumption.

This is the most important
breakthrough in five years.

-Mm-hmm.
-How did you even think
of this ecological minutia?

Because I'm smart. [chuckles]

What, you think
I cheated or something?

No, of course not. Apologies.

Look, the point is,
no more wallowing
or drugging yourself

or feeding yourself
to the alligator, okay?

If we don't figure this out,
no one will.

There's no way around it.

We have to get her body.

Wait, what?

We need to dig up Vida.

No. No, no, no, no.

That was not
what I was saying here.

We need her body to see if
there's evidence of seawater.

You can't just dig somebody up.

There are rules against that.

Oh, please, it's Florida.

Nobody's protecting
dead bodies.

Dead bodies
don't vote. [chuckles]

Sometimes they do vote.

Okay, with the understanding
that no one can
predict the future,

what do you think?

Is there any chance,
if we solve this thing,

that you might, um,
move on and become
a semi-functioning guy?

You are a fascinating woman.

[quirky music playing]

Yes, I am.

Just so you know, I like Bell,

but when you start digging up
decomposed bodies for someone,

you gotta ask yourself,

"What's my line
for saying no to this guy?"

Well, maybe
I'm enjoying myself too.

Do you have a crush on him?

Seriously,
Mr. Doctor Fancy Shoes?

You think
I'm a teenager or something?

No, I'm a single mom.
Single moms don't get crushes.

-That wasn't a no.
-[scoffs]

Officer Lorde.

What an unpleasant surprise.

[Cammie] Yeah, yeah.

Who knew a hearse could do 80?

Surprised me too.

I was late to a funeral.

I didn't know
it was possible for a body
to be late to a funeral.

Yeah, well,
we're not here about tickets.

We need to, uh,
relocate a decedent.

Her husband wants
his beloved wife's remains

to be transferred
to their family burial plot.

I'm sorry,

but for a disinterment
and relocation,

the next of kin
needs to appear in person.

I understand that.

This is Mr. Prescott's
personal physician,

Dr. Otis Wright.

Mr. Prescott's
designated me as his proxy.

He suffers
from acute agoraphobia.

If I can rely
on your discretion,

I'll confide in you
the truth about his condition.

He has a rare strain of
antibiotic-resistant syphilis.

If he appeared in person,

he could create a disturbance.

He spits, occasionally bites,

soils himself,

and sometimes even,

I'm sad to say,

eats the contents.

Yeah, we think
arm's length is better.

[Otis] Mm.

[whimsical music playing]

You know,
there's a version of this where
you don't have to be here.

I'll survive.

I took a smidge of ketamine.

Just a taste.

I am coping wonderfully.

[sighs] Okay.

[sinister music playing]

[Cammie] Whoa.

Hi, honey. I'm home.

All those hours of Pilates
for this.

Oh, but my hair held up.

[Darby] Poor Vida.

-She didn't deserve this.
-No, I did not.

I mean,
she could be a grade-A bitch.

[both] Darby.

So what are we looking for?

Anything that
puts her at the beach
the night of the murder.

We can look,

but I'm guessing not much
survived the embalming process.

You know, I considered
extreme embalming.

In Puerto Rico,
they call it "el muerto parao."

That's "dead man standing."

It's a combination
of pipes and formaldehyde.

I was gonna have her posed
with a credit card in one hand
and a daiquiri in the other.

[giggling]

You sure you're okay?

No, but I can do this.

Vida never wore nail polish.

Girlfriends notice everything.

Husbands... do not.

Otis, take the polish off,
and don't let the acetone
leach under.

I'm a doctor.

I'm less arrogant
than most of them,

but to be in a barn
with a corpse

getting manicure instructions
from an exterminator...

Mm, see,
one of my former girls,

she got
into the funeral business

on account of it's easier
dealing with dead men
than live ones.

[chuckles]

Morticians don't do anything
unless they have to.

If the nails look good,
they leave them.

If there's dirt,
they paint them.

Otis... please.

[inquisitive music playing]

Huh. Can I borrow
your microscope?

Do you have any idea
how hard this is for me?

It's a distraction
to avoid the truth.

It is not.

I need closure.

You need absolution.

Hey.

Look, I'm sorry.
It was too much,
seeing her in there.

It's not that. It's--

This is all my fault.

I did all this.
I'm a terrible husband.

Even if I do find
the person who killed her,

it doesn't solve
the fundamental issue.

Which is?

I pushed her away.

She died because of me.

She didn't, Bell.

She died
because she died, okay?

You're just-- you're
just trying to stay alive.

I don't know if that's fair.

No, I saw her body in there.

She had two legs and a brain.

Wherever she was killed,
she got there using them.

Guys, get in here.

-That's an insect wing.
-Oh.

What's that get us?

See those fine hairs
along the edge?

That's a sandfly.

They don't burrow
under fingernails.

I don't know
how you get a sandfly wing

lodged deep in a nail
unless you're
building sandcastles.

Or trying to escape from
your attacker at the beach.

You were right.

She wasn't killed at the swamp.

She was killed
at Rosemary Beach.

Yeah.

So she fought with you
and ran off to meet her lover
at the beach.

Consistent
with what Alejandro said.

Consistent with what we know.

Look, again,
if this is too much,

I can pass this off
to Sheriff Grant.

I am perfectly okay.

[staple thudding]

Okay.

Hey, did Vida have
any neck surgery?

Maybe sleep issues?

No, she slept like a baby.

[Otis] Metal fragment.

In her hyoid bone.

From the murder weapon?

If they had such a thing as
a postmortem MRI around here,

they'd have found it.

Panhandle.

If it wasn't a hatchet
lodged in a skull,
they would never find it.

-Thank you, Otis.
-Mm.

Thank you, all of you.

I will rebury Vida's remains
in the morning.

I hope you can join me.

Nothing fancy.

Perhaps some
Hemingway daiquiris
for old times' sake.

[wistful music playing]

[line ringing]

[Cammie] Hello?

What are you doing awake
at this hour?

Fans of the obvious would say
it's 'cause I used my badge
under fraudulent pretense

to dig up a murder victim.

I analyzed the metal fragment
that Otis found in Vida's neck.

It's steel,

but it predates
the Bessemer process.

The Bessemer what?

It's 4:30.

Means the murder weapon
was antique.

-From the 18th century.
-18th?

Like George Washington? Mozart?

This person a time traveler?

Just, just kidding.

Um, that was a joke.

Who the hell has
an 18th-century machete?

I have no idea,

but if you'll forgive the
class-based presumptuousness,

I'm guessing not
a swamp-dwelling meth addict.

[suspenseful music playing]

In the frenzy
that accompanies
a sudden and tragic loss,

to recognize the deceased
in an eloquent and measured way
is nearly impossible.

A funeral is...

less about the deceased

than the raw grief
of the survivors.

It's been five years
since Vida died.

And I have struggled,

as you all know.

[sad music playing]

But today is a new day.

This is her moment.

Vida was a powerful presence.

She still is
a powerful presence.

To speak plainly,
she is a mystery,

and I'm...

still getting to know
the woman I love.

You done now?

Yes, I am done.

♪♪ Been traveling
These wide roads ♪♪

♪♪ For so long ♪♪

♪♪ My heart's been far ♪♪

♪♪ From you ♪♪

♪♪ Ten thousand miles gone ♪♪

♪♪ Take me to your river ♪♪

♪♪ I-- ♪♪

[thudding]

All right, um...

she's in there.

[serene banjo music playing]

[Otis] Bell's gonna live.

At least another day.

That's you.

You did it.

No, we all did it.

Say he's only staying
on the top of dirt
for one person.

Who is it?

His mom?

It's you.

Dr. Wright, is this--

is this you letting me
off the hook for those tickets?

-I'm considering letting you
off the hook, Officer Lorde.
-Uh-huh.

Well, can we seal the deal

if you let me
buy you a drink sometime?

Realm of possibility.

Well, in the meantime,
I'm gonna go freshen up

and practice on one
of their Hemingway daiquiris.

[contemplative music playing]

[Vida sighs]
This is where I belong.

Well, a lot of people say

I need to face the truth.

[clears throat] Maybe
for the sake of my own...

maturation,

we should take a break.

Just a small one.

[suspenseful music playing]

[Bell] Looking for something?

Yes, I am. [clears throat]

Daiquiris?

I just got back from Miami.

How did things go
in Boggsville last night?

It's controlled.
Bell's no threat.

A patrol officer from
Boggsville was nosing around,

but I straightened that out.

We're good.

Are we?

Si, mi amor.

You're not as cute
as you think.

I disagree.

I'm even cuter.

[tense banjo music playing]

["Florida Sand" playing]

♪♪ Wherever I wander ♪♪

♪♪ In summer or winter ♪♪

♪♪ The ocean
Is calling me back ♪♪

♪♪ To Florida sand, sand, sand ♪♪

♪♪ To Florida sand, sand, sand ♪♪

♪♪ The wind and the ocean ♪♪

♪♪ Are calling me back ♪♪

♪♪ To the sand, sand, sand ♪♪

♪♪ The waves softly sparkle ♪♪

♪♪ Beneath a bright moon ♪♪

♪♪ Night birds are crying ♪♪

♪♪ Return to me soon ♪♪

♪♪ Oh, Florida, Florida ♪♪

♪♪ My heart, you ever ♪♪

♪♪ For always
The love of this man ♪♪

♪♪ Is Florida sand, sand, sand ♪♪