All language subtitles for Panhandle.S01E07.WEBRip.x264-ION10.g

Let us out!

What happened?

Oh, my God.
You scared the hell out of me.

They took our phones
and--and your meds.

I'm so sorry. I messed up.

-I need my pills.
-We'll get through this.

I don't know if you know this,

but I have a panic disorder,

and people
with panic disorders--

Give him his damn pills.

You break into my business
and make demands?

What are you gonna do...

kill us...

on your property,

right after you set fire
to your other property?

I have a simple solution.

Delete the files that
you copied, and I let you go.

Don't, and I don't.

Piss off, Alejandro.

-That's not happening.
-Oh.

Look at him, Bell the Avenger.

I wonder what Tyler
would say about this.

He must miss his mother.

Don't do it.

Cammie, no.

Llévatelo.

Vamos. Vamos!

You said you'd let us go!

I embrace discomfort.

I confront my fears.

I embrace discomfort.

I confront my fears.

-Kind of works.
-It's ironic.

Ten days ago,
I tried to hang myself,

and now that I've decided
to live, I'm going to die.

That attitude
does not work for me.

Ah, it's the curse
of the Prescott men.

They die young,
they die badly--

bull goring in one case--
well, two cases.

Father and son matadors.
It's a funny story.

It involves Hemingway.

You're not gonna be
the latest tragic Prescott.

And I'm not abandoning my son.

Because you were abandoned?

The thing is,
the name Cammie Lorde

only appeared 12 years ago

with an application to replace
a social security number.

I don't want to play this game.

And just as Cammie Lorde
came into the picture,

another identity with the
same birth date--

it's a rookie mistake--
went fallow.

Layla Roberts of--
drumroll, please...

Brooklyn.

We're not doing this.

Life is meant
to be faced, Cammie.

-I learned that from you.
-No.

Roosevelt High's firewall
was no match for Skramstad.

It turns out
all of Layla's paperwork

was signed by her guardian,
Tanika Sway.

Worked for a lawyer who
represented Black activists,

one of them a young couple

implicated in a 1985 bombing
of Brooklyn Detention.

They didn't think
anyone would get hurt.

Tell me what happened.

Tell me your story,
Cammie Lorde,

because death is
around the corner,

and I don't want
to dwell on that.

The guy who planted the bomb...

his name was Milandro Vee.

He wanted blood.

Five people were killed,
two cops.

My parents turned state's
evidence against Vee.

For a while, they...

they thought they were fine.

I was born.

But then Vee tracked them down,

and they had to run, so...

They left me behind.

They killed cops,
and you became one.

Life is complicated, isn't it?

You came to Florida
to find them.

Was that them at the diner?

Vamos.

Afuera!

No!

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah.

Eh, cuidado.

Assata Finay.

My name is--

My name is Assata Finay.

92

I think it's a lovely name.

I like Cammie, but chamomile--

I mean, speaking as a
Bellwether, I try not to judge.

Okay, shut up, shut up.

I-I read how to get loose
from zip ties.

Half the time you can just--
you can shimmy free.

Why?

Let's say it works.

We get loose,
storm the deck, they shoot us.

Better than drowning.

-Is it?
-Yes.

I thought the end
of "Titanic" was beautiful.

The way what's-his-name
let go, drifted down,

it looked soothing.

He froze to death.

It was soothing
because he was dead.

Oh, we'll wash up in Cuba
in about 12 hours.

Vida always wanted to see Cuba.

No.

This is a twist.

Toma.

Vamos. Toma.

Más!

He wants you to OD.

Toxicology will show
I was high.

Tomar más!

It'll look like an accident.

No más.

No más!

Benzodiazepine's
a muscle relaxant.

My heart...

it's just a big old muscle.

It's also a central
nervous system depressant,

so as I take more--confusion.

Stop. Stop that.

Bell.

The endgame...

is coma...

cerebral damage, death.

I wish I'd kissed you, Cammie.

Layla.

Assata.

Bell? Hey, hey!

Uh-huh.

Gran puta.

Wake up.

Hey, hey, listen to me.

I need you.

Vida needs you.

Okay.

Help me find something
to cut me loose.

There, there, there.

There's a corkscrew,
Velcroed to the wall.

Okay. All right, you're okay.
You're okay.

-Get up.
-Oh, this carpet is soft.

Now I see why cats like this.

Oh, I wish I was a cat.

Oh, my God.

Chasing mice and licking things

with my scratchy tongue.

Please. Please just try.

Just--

If it wasn't for my tolerance,

I'd be dead by now.

You see, there is a happy side
to addiction.

Bell. Bell!

I see someone...

familiar.

Hey, we've got a problem
with our fuel tank.

And our radio's out.

Hey, that's Sheriff Grant.

You mind if we come aboard
and use yours?

No comprendo, amigo.

The answer is no.

Hotsy-totsy, there's gunfire!

Now I see why people
leave the house.

It's exciting out here!

Ahora.

Cover me.

Bellwether Prescott, get me
that goddamn corkscrew now!

Go.

Yes! Yes, yes, yes. Okay.

Please, carefully, just...

Drop it.

Suéltala.

Terminada.

Looked like you
needed some help.

Yeah, my wingman's
a little nearsighted.

I don't know how you
found us, but thank you.

You might want to cuff him.

Yeah, and you might want
to fish that other one

out of the water.

Sheriff Grant.

Hola, amigo.

188

♪ Just a dream and
the wind to carry me ♪

♪ Soon I will be free ♪

♪ Fantasy... ♪

How many pills you say he took?

Enough to kill a normal man.

Enough to kill him
in 30 minutes.

Hmm.

-You got a bilge pump?
-Sure.

Both of you are damn lucky
I had eyes on El Calvero.

I appreciate what you did,
out of jurisdiction and all.

Which is why those two cubanos

are gonna float
their asses home

instead of going to prison.

Look, I know you told me to
lay off the Vida Prescott case.

I'm sorry.

It's okay.

We all have cases
that, uh, eat at us,

tell us to keep digging
when no one else sees it.

It just means
you're a good cop...

mm, ex-cop.

Just, uh...

tell me that you found evidence
to nail the Perezes

for drug trafficking.

It's not drugs.

It's sugar.

Is that some kind
of slang for--

Actual sugar.

Don't worry. We'll get them.

Trust me on that.

You guys okay?

Your mother was so worried
about you,

I had to give her a sedative.

You're welcome.

Watch yourself, Cammie.

I mean it.

Hey, what happened
to the beater car?

Uh, Bell's gonna
buy you a new one.

Go dig up
some coffee cans, okay?

All right, cool.

Oh, uh, you guys still have
that sex doll lying around?

-I could take it off your hands.
-No, we don't.

-Sorry.
-It's fine.

I was worried about you.

Oh...

I'm fine.

I mean, I didn't
down a bottle of benzos.

Really.

It was crazy, but...

it was good.

Good 'cause of, like,
the adventure or...?

Are you trying to ask
if Bell and I hooked up?

You putting words in my mouth.

Mm-hmm.

But did you?

Just second base.

We made out.
He touched my boobs.

Over the shirt, though.

Really?

No, not really.

I nearly got killed.

What the hell is
wrong with you?

Tough day?

We lost, Vida.

It was all for nothing.

Can't breathe. Too tight.

Sorry, baby.

I just really missed you.

-You good?
-I'm good.

Yeah?

Give me two minutes
on the computer,

and then we'll do Legos, okay?

Okay.

Stay right there.

Don't move that face,
all right?

I need to see
that cute little face.

Come on, Marcus,
you haven't changed

your password in years.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

Come in.

I had a feeling
you might stop by.

You got something for me?

Have a seat. We can discuss.

Be like old times.

Old times sucked, Marcus.
Give me the files.

I needed an emergency backup.
You were it.

What do you want?

Well, Perez Sugar burns down.

You're stealing files.

So I want to know
what the hell's going on,

since now
I'm an accessory and all.

I hid the files
in your Dropbox.

In case something happened,
the story would come out.

Just give me the files and
a little time, and it's yours.

Not good enough.

You get the story.

I want Tyler
every other weekend.

Oh, absolutely not.

I was hoping we could make
this a win-win, but if not,

I do have evidence of my son's
mother engaging

in a pattern
of dangerous behavior.

What the hell?

You broke the law.

You have our son cleaning guns

and walking around with animals
that could swallow him whole.

Okay, in Florida,
all that's normal.

You can have your files.

But this isn't a negotiation.

297

-Fancy a tipple, Cammie?
-No.

We're still using
the nom de guerre, correct?

You doing okay?

Well, while I appreciate
the check-in,

I don't particularly
want to see you right now.

What's this?

Open it.

You deleted these.

I watched you.

I had a backup plan.

I sent them to Marcus--

the tox reports,
um, the employee records,

everything.

Still want me to leave?

We did it.

Yeah, we fucking did it.

-I'm gonna call Sheriff Grant.
-Oh, no, no, no, no.

-Grant?
-Yeah.

I mean, he saved our lives.

No, we need something
more satisfying

than the county hall monitor.

What are you talking about?

I'm feeling...

vindictive.

-Hello?
-Alejandro.

You'll never believe
where I'm not calling from--

a morgue!

What the fuck?

Glad to hear
you sounding well.

Is there something specific
you called to say?

As a matter of fact, yes.

I'd like to say cadmium.

Also, phosphorous,
chromium, sulfur.

We have the file, Alejandro.

The one you thought
Cammie deleted.

What do you want?

Money, land,
the sugar plant, what?

Dinner.

You and the whole family,
tonight, my place.

Let's say cocktails at 6:00.

What was that?

We had it in the bag.

And then you took the bag
and shit in it

and put it on the counter
and lit it on fire.

Now my house is on fire,
and it smells like shit!

No.
We're drawing them into a trap.

"Drawing them into a trap"?

This isn't "Clue."

You're not Sherlock Holmes.

That's ridiculous.

Those are two
totally different universes.

This was my investigation.

You remember that Alejandro
just tried to kill us, right?

Or did you just leave that
out of your memory palace?

Oh, you're angry with me

because you're afraid
of intimacy.

-Oh, my God.
-And you haven't been

-this close to a man in years.
-No! No!

I'm angry because this
was supposed to get me

-my job back.
-And it will.

I have a plan.

Can I tell you my plan?

All of it.

I will weave the facts
into an undeniable order

and trap them
into telling the truth.

But it will require
everyone's help.

Why are you so sad?

Wow.

You really dug into
those feeling words, huh, Bug?

Come here.

Getting heavy.

All right, the thing is, Ty,

I came here looking
for something, all right?

But I got you instead.

That's way more important than
anything I was looking for.

So...

maybe it's time
that we moved on,

try something new,
new adventures, hmm?

Don't you like it here?

You like Bell.

Sort of.

But maybe it's time
that we leave Florida, okay?

Hey. Hey, hey, hey.

We'll talk about this more

when I get back
from the Prescotts', all right?

A very long time ago,

you told me
that the truth would heal.

Now we are going to test
that hypothesis.

Welcome, everyone.

Thank you for coming.

Roasting a whole pig--
how very Cuban.

Since you forbade it
at the wedding,

I figured, "If not now, when?"

Wait till you taste dessert.

Officer Lorde,
nice to see you again.

Yeah, I bet it is.

Oysters?

I'll pass.

You look familiar.

Oh.

Yeah, you tried
to have sex with me

when I worked
at the Show-N-Tail.

Yeah. Did we...?

No.

You wanted me to put
on five-inch heels

and step on your balls?

-Did you...?
-I did not.

I don't get what you're
up to here, but I love it.

My friend, in the words

of the immortal
Bachman-Turner Overdrive,

baby, you ain't seen
nothing yet.

Cordials are served.

I would like to thank
you all for coming.

My desire isn't
to escalate a conflict.

It is to end one,

which is why we start
with cordials--

a word derived from the Latin

"of or pertaining
to the heart."

You pretentious prick.

Just tell us what you want.

Always to the point, Alicia.

As you know,
we have files pertaining

to certain
El Calvero activities.

The information is undeniable
and damning.

Someone in a vengeful mood
would use them to destroy you.

What do you want, Bell?

I don't know
who killed my wife,

but I believe one of you does.

Tell me, and I make
those files disappear.

Dinner is served.

I thought that
went well, don't you?

No, I don't.

What was that?

That was not
a part of the plan.

The plan was to force them
to confess

and then secretly record them

and not get sucked
into a Vida vortex.

That's a very negative spin
to put on a moment

of unadulterated glory.

No. No.

I will not be a part
of covering up a major crime.

I have planned this night
in excruciating detail.

The Perezes are going down.

If you want to call
Sheriff Grant,

go ahead, be my guest.

I can't stop you.

Or you can trust me.

We will get to the truth.

447

Before we begin...

a toast.

To this fine
aged El Calvero rum,

with bewitching notes of maple,

pineapple, and, uh...

mmm, one last thing.

Were some of my employees
doing cocaine?

What a scandal
that would make in Florida

That's not cocaine.

That's sugar...

that we found on your truck,

put there by your son

right after your husband
tried to kill us.

Your rum that claims
to be smoothed with age

is instead smoothed with sugar

straight from the vat
to the shelves--

pure fraud.

Clearly, Bell's delusional.

He's agoraphobic--
totally different issue.

I didn't know anything.
I didn't.

Look, we were in the hole
after Hurricane Irma.

That rum was a symbol
of integrity.

Come on, Alicia. "Integrity"?

How many of Quique's lovers did
we have to silence with cash?

Oh, careful, Alicia.

Perez woman who try to uphold
the family's integrity

tend to die.

You will not put that on us.

You're responsible
for Vida's death.

Am I?

You're the one who drove her
into the swamp.

Actually,
she died on the beach,

just down from
your beach house.

That doesn't make any sense.
Vida was found in the swamp.

Well, the tidal surges
carried her body

up the estuary to the swamp,

where she was found,
not where she was killed.

Vida had been carrying
two terrible burdens--

me and the secret she learned
from her subpar lover,

Jeremiah Cedar.

That's who told her
the ugly truth

about her whole family--

that the sugarcane operation,

which my father
entrusted to you,

had poisoned its workers
from neglect and greed.

Stolen files prove nothing.

No, but this does.

Time for the appetiser--

locally sourced
and freshly harvested.

What is this? Shit?

Oh, it's worse.

It's mill mud.

But you knew all about it,
didn't you?

You thought you could bury it
with money.

I have no idea what you mean.

A check you signed
to Jeremiah Cedar,

because you knew if he talked,

this would all come out.

Do you know
how many employees we have?

I don't know each person.

But you knew Jeremiah,

because he was sleeping
with your daughter,

which is why Vida
called the family meeting--

to confront you.

When did she tell you that?

The other morning when
you were humping the pillow?

I'm glad you asked.

I call to the stand
Olav Skramstad,

king of the hundertrout,

kind enough to join us
from Norway.

Mr. Skramstad, tell us,

were you able to discern
Vida's movements

the day prior to her murder?

I-I don't understand
the point of this.

Indeed. Track with me.

Vida drove Interstate 10
from Boggsville to Tampa.

Her trip terminates here,
at El Calvero.

You serious?
It's not a courtroom.

Shut up.

The phones of Alejandro
and Yasiel Perez

in direct proximity to Vida
for 42 minutes.

She couldn't tell me
because I was too drunk

and too self-obsessed
to listen.

Instead, she confronted you,
and it led to her death.

Your Norwegian day player
is bluffing,

unless he's with the NSA,
which seems highly unlikely.

You're right.

I'm not a spy, madame.

I am a curtain salesman.

At least that's what I told

a certain
search engine company.

When I told them I wanted to
buy geolocation-specific ads,

they were so excited,
they sent me data

on every phone in Florida.

God bless
American free enterprise.

Get some sleep, Skramstad.

Oh, and rook to queen four,
mate in two.

Ah.

Time for the main course.

So...

Vida left
the meeting devastated.

She came home.

She wanted to tell me,

but it was the anniversary
of my father's death,

so I had drunk a lot
and passed out.

I didn't wake up
until the next morning.

Vida had come and gone
to Jeremiah's place.

He gave her what I couldn't.

To be clear, he was not
nearly as proficient

at making love as I am.

But he listened,

and they decided
she should talk to a lawyer.

We knew she was there
from the parking ticket

she got
outside the lawyer's office,

where she explored the idea

of going public
with what she knew.

Only problem was,

Harold Joffee, Esquire,
was a man that could be bought.

How much did it cost
to buy him?

A lot.

Because two weeks later,
Harold closed his practice

and moved to the Caymans.

Vida came home, tried again
to tell me what was going on.

We fought, and she ran
to the beach house...

to meet one of you.

-You don't know that.
-Actually, we do.

We know the killing happened
at your beach house

because that's where
the murder weapon came from.

The murder weapon
was never found.

A real cop would know that.

Oh, ouch.

Oh, now you're hurting
my feelings.

The weapon was found.

It's an antique machete

with a 12-inch blade.

Hand-forged.

But you know that already,
don't you, Alejandro?

Because you planted
the weapon here,

at this house...

the night that you came and
talked to Bell two weeks ago.

This is getting exciting.

So you found the weapon
that killed my daughter here,

and you haven't arrested
this monster?

Let's go.

Oh, whoa, wait.

Oh, oh, oh, perfect timing.

I call my next witness.

Checotah...

Can you please tell us
where you got these machetes?

From the Rosemary Beach place,

not 30 minutes ago.

Holy shit.

-You broke into our home?
-No.

You signed up for hands-free,
no-signature deliveries.

I have the access code.

I got you a little
something nice.

It's a Britney Spears megamix.

You're gonna like it.

Let's see.

Yep, I confirm

that the murder weapon
used to kill Vida Prescott

matches these.

They're part of the same set.

One of you killed Vida...

and killed an innocent man
to cover it up.

Well, not that innocent.
He was sleeping with my wife.

So which one of you was it?

Was it you, Yasiel,

who, according
to numerous sources,

is one of the most depraved
spatchcocks

from a depraved clan?

Or was it you...

Alicia?

You gave me
the photo of Jeremiah

to flush him out.

Or was it you, Ramon,

the one she trusted,

the one she never
would have seen coming?

It wasn't me.

I know it wasn't you.

It just felt weird
leaving you out.

I bet...

it was you,

the man torn between

two charismatic women--

a wife driven
by prestige and profit

and a daughter repulsed
by her family's amorality

and determined to make amends.

Enough.

You're weak and drunk
like your father.

He was not weak!

-Bell.
-You broke him!

He sold you the company

when he found out workers
were getting sick.

-You told him you would fix it.
-Bell--

When he found out you lied,

he did the only honorable thing
he could think of!

He hanged himself
from the rafters of our barn!

And that is on your head.

648

Bell li--lied to me.

He wanted me to think
it was an accident.

I know it was wrong, but he...

he was probably
just trying to protect you.

At least you know
the truth now.

The truth?

The truth?

Tell the truth.

If you killed my daughter,

I will cut you right here,
right now.

Make her stop.

Listen to me,
cariño, I'm no angel.

There's people
that I would kill,

but never our daughter.

You lied about everything else.

I'm done with this.

You lost me a daughter.
You won't lose me a wife.

What the fuck
are you talking about?

Take Bell's deal.
Just--just tell the damn truth!

Alicia...

put down the knife.

Vida did come
and see us that day.

She left angry.

I wanted to go after her.

But Yasiel said,
"I'll handle it."

I thought she would listen
to her brother.

But after he left,
I started to wonder,

"What the hell did he mean
by he'd handle it?"

I tried to call him,
and I got no response.

I called, and I called.

And after the next day, when
I didn't hear from him still,

I went to the beach house.

A storm had knocked out
the power.

But it was brutally clear
what he meant.

One of the machetes was gone.

And there was blood.

No.

No! No.

Vida. Mi Vida!

You always thought
the worst of me,

both of you.

-I didn't murder my sister!
-Stop.

Okay?

I'm not a criminal,
which is a fucking miracle,

given who my parents are.

Evening, folks.

Yasiel Perez, I'm placing you
under arrest

for the murder of Vida Perez.

Based on what?

I've been monitoring
via phone connection

with Officer Lorde here.

What? You told me to either
trust you or call him.

I did both.

Okay, party's over.

No.

No, this is bullshit!

Yasiel.

Yasiel!

Request backup,
Prescott compound.

Cálmate.

The gator's fine, but this
one got a little chewed up.

A fucking gator
tried to eat me!

Darn. I forgot to feed Moseley.

What kind of lunatic
keeps a gator for a pet?

A Prescott lunatic.

That's actually the first
time he's come in handy.

Yasiel didn't do it,
and I can prove it.

Yasiel called me

halfway between Tampa
and Rosemary Beach.

Whatever he was gonna do
after Vida walked out,

he got shitfaced and wrapped
his car around a pole.

I arranged for a tow before
the cops could find him...

or my dad could.

Yasiel wasn't even
in Rosemary Beach

the night Vida was killed.

He was in Tampa, with me.

Then what the hell did
you mean by "I'll handle it"?

I meant that I knew
Vida was cheating.

I was gonna tell her if she
didn't lay off

the Perez Sugar bullshit,
I'd tell Bell.

Okay, I'm an asshole!
I'm not a killer.

Why have you kept this secret?

Because I thought
Dad killed her!

-You thought it was me?
-You thought it was me!

Don't you love how
this family talks things out?

I think it's kind of touching.

You're all liars.

You lied to me about the death
of the only decent child I had.

Alicia.

Bell.

You were right.

Leaving this up to me
was a disaster.

No, you got nearly
everything right.

They're destroyed.

And I still have no idea
who killed my wife.

All right, you two
need to come with me.

Our lawyers will have us out
in an hour.

-Everything I've got on them.
-Wow.

Those, uh, cases,
the ones I told you about,

the ones that eat at you,

most times,
we don't get them solved,

but you did good.

I'm impressed.

You're not even
a police officer anymore.

This is Florida.

No one gives a shit.

Tell me...

what kind of a mother lets
her son hang out with a lunatic

like Bellwether Prescott?

Oh, you got some parenting
tips to share with me?

Really?

They're free to go.

I told you
it would end this way.

Nothing just ends, Alicia.

We lost a daughter.
That's enough.

So crawl back to your swamp.

You know,
I met your father once.

You're a lot like him.

You think you're invincible.

Ahh.