Original subtitles

Previously on Vegas...

I still haven't decided

whether I'm gonna be running my investigation

out of Vegas or Washoe County.

If we don't get to the truth, nobody will.

You know, whoever framed Hodges thought of everything.

I think they finally made a mistake.

Neither of us sprayed that luminol.

We think the killer did.

The luminol that we found in Kline's house--

it came from this lab.

I think I know who took the luminol

and killed Kline

and framed Hodges-- all of it.

- It was him. Anson Wix

is the attorney for the class action against the state.

Why go to all the trouble?

- Money. - I don't think

the cause of justice is advanced

by letting 8,000 criminals out of jail

so this bastard can get rich.

You'll find something. Carefully, I hope.

♪ Get it while it's hot

♪ Get it while it's hot

We went all night!

What time is it?

Uh, guys?

Come and see.

Bro.

You're gonna go viral.

Friggin' horse on the Strip.

He came to gamble.

Listen, before we get into it, you may hear a rumor that...

That Anson Wix framed David Hodges?

- Did Chris tell you? - Well, he swore us

to secrecy, but yeah.

Whenever I see Wix on the news,

he always seems so vanilla.

Why's he done this?

Why does anybody do anything in Vegas?

Money. He gave himself a head start,

signed the most plaintiffs, landed the civil case

against Hodges and the state.

He's gonna make a fortune.

I got calls in to the lab at Washoe.

I got Grissom and Sara working on it.

But until they prove that Wix is the guy, mum's the word, okay?

What have we got today, boss? A sign of the apocalypse?

Could be. Animal Control called us out.

Not sure what they're dealing with.

Don't get too close.

- He kicked me. - It's okay.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh.

It's all right. It's all right.

You okay, buddy?

Somebody hurt you?

Since when are you a horse whisperer?

My dad used to drag me to the track.

Got me a job cleaning stables

so I could feed him gambling tips.

I loved it.

Thought it was my future.

You're a bit too tall to be a jockey, aren't you?

Wanted to be a large-animal vet.

This guy seems fine. Blood's not his.

Pretty sure this is why we got called.

Whoa.

♪ A friend of mine

♪ She cries at night

♪ And she calls me on the phone ♪

♪ Sees babies everywhere she goes ♪

♪ And she wants one of her own

♪ She's waited long enough she says ♪

♪ And still he can't decide

♪ Pretty soon she'll have to choose ♪

♪ And it tears her up inside

♪ She is scared

♪ Scared to run out of time...

You know I have a pill organizer.

And you know

I find it meditative.

Weirdest little brother a girl's ever had.

Thank you.

Big day today?

Yeah, they're all big lately.

Anson, what is that?

That is hot sauce.

I guess I am a slob

with the Cholula.

Eat your pancakes.

♪ Those lines are pretty hard to take... ♪

ow.

Anson Wix blew up Marty Kline with a grenade?

And we think he was injured

in the blast as well.

We know 'cause he cleaned up

with luminol that he stole

from a different crime scene.

Where he also left some dandruff.

So you have his DNA at the scene of some other murder?

Yes, but he reps the victim's family

in that case, so his presence at that scene...

I can't raise it at trial. Doesn't help us.

- A-Are you sure about this?

I mean, Anson Wix?

He's not the kind of guy you expect to blow people up.

The attack on Jim Brass which started all this--

the guy he sent to kill him was paid

with ransom cash from a kidnapping in the '90s.

And Wix was

a junior associate at the firm

that defended the kidnapper.

He also repped

Bill Dwyer, the guy

who sent us to the storage unit.

His favorite expert witness, Martin Kline...

...helped frame you.

Wix killed him to keep it quiet.

You know, I thought I was his favorite expert.

You worked for him?

Three or four times. Yeah, after court,

we'd get a bite at the food trucks across the street.

He'd always be interested in what I was doing, my old career.

I thought he was just being nice, but...

he was just planning this.

You know this guy pretty well, David.

What kind of mistakes might he make?

He doesn't make mistakes.

That's why I tried to hire him to defend me.

No offense.

Oh...

Oh, um, I got to get home.

I only get so much time

for these fun little visits.

Emma will be worried if I cut it too close

with the ankle monitor.

- How is she? - On bed rest

till the due date.

Course, once the baby's born,

I probably won't be coming home at all.

- David, there might be more answers from the mess

we pulled from Kline's house.

We are not giving up.

- No..

Only a partial. Won't be enough to ID the rider.

DNA might, but we don't have that much time.

The rider could still be alive.

Whoever was in the saddle lost at least three pints.

Had to be some kind of wound to the head, neck or chest.

They held on for a while before they slipped off, though.

Not getting any fibers or anything.

And under all this mess, he's actually in great shape.

Somebody's been taking good care of him.

Sure seems to have been eating well.

That trace on his hooves might tell us

something about where he's been.

I can take a sample right now,

but to pull the horseshoe we'll need a farrier.

Well, can't you just ask him nicely?

Since you and Seabiscuit are #BestFriends?

Oh...

- Okay, what's that? - That's called a piaffe.

It's a movement in dressage.

You know those riding exhibitions

- where they prance around? - Yeah.

Big fan. So, uh,

people who train fancy show horses--

they put microchips in them, don't they?

Hmm. Meet Kings Gambit.

Registered with the U.S. Equestrian Sports Association.

He's been M.I.A.

Owner declared him missing in March.

And then after all this time, he shows up covered in blood.

A lot of blood.

We got to find out where you lost your rider.

If the owner of that boot's still alive,

it won't be for long.

♪ Who... are you?

♪ Who, who, who, who?

♪ Who... are you?

♪ Who, who, who, who?

♪ I really wanna know

♪ Who... are you?

♪ Oh-oh-oh ♪ Who...♪

♪ Come on, tell me who are you, you, you ♪

♪ Are you!

That's him. My boy KG.

Can't believe you found him.

It's a lucky, lucky day.

Not for whoever was riding your horse, Mr. Locke.

We think they're off dying somewhere in the desert.

That's why a boss lady like you is on the case.

So, you recognize this boot?

Size nine, guy's probably under six feet.

You see the, uh, worn heel?

Guy probably duckwalks, has flat feet.

You know anybody like that?

- Nope. So, your missing horse

shows up covered in blood, and...

- total mystery to you? - Yeah, well,

KG always did have a wild heart.

Look, I haven't seen him in a year.

Lord knows what he got himself into.

He's a horse.

How'd you manage to lose him in the first place?

I think my first mistake

was training him to jump fences.

Look, horses are intelligent animals.

If they want to run free, they will find a way.

It's one reason I have insurance.

So you got a payout when he went missing.

Or at least, you say he did.

Yeah, I see where you're going.

There was no fraud.

Believe me, I'd have rather had his stud fees.

Where were you last night?

Watched the news, took an Ambien.

Tragically, I was alone.

All right, well,

y'all let me know when you're done

with that naughty boy.

I'd like him back ASAP.

All right,

Mr. Locke.

Any luck, we'll see you again real soon.

So, where's the guy who fell out of that boot?

The dung says his horse grazed on blue grama

and June grass last night.

Huh, that really narrowed things down.

Glad I did that.

It all helps.

- We'll keep whittling. - Okay.

ATLAS says there's gypsum here,

mixed with the dust on the horseshoes.

That must have been what fluoresced under the ALS.

Still too large an area to search.

We're not done yet.

There's also rare earth elements.

Scandium. Gadolinium.

Battery stuff, right?

Thought those were mined in China.

Mm, mostly. But geological surveys

here, here and here

have all recorded rare earths.

Factor in where Kings Gambit turned up,

we might just find our rider out here,

past Sunset Manor.

I'll let LVPD know.

Time to form a posse and find our guy.

If our vic survived,

he probably crawled under something for shade.

Keep trying to picture Dr. Folsom, veterinarian.

When did you decide

CSI was for you?

Hmm.

About two years ago.

What? You've been a criminalist

longer than two years.

We better pick up the pace.

Hmm.

Martin Kline had nice furniture,

before it got blown up.

"D34-6A."

It's another piece of the chair.

Huh. There might be some blood here.

Sounds like a bad day at IKEA.

I'll test it.

It's probably more of Kline's blood,

considering the proximity to the blast.

Hey, Chris?

You all right? You seem a little...

Pissed?

This perp took my luminol and used it to get away with murder.

Almost cost me my job.

Plus, he's screwing up about a zillion convictions.

Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how'd you like the play?

Other than that,

I'm great.

Is that the pin from the grenade?

Where was that?

It was stuck to the bottom of this chunk of drywall.

How did I miss that?

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a fiber.

Forget the grenade.

This thread might be what actually blows Wix up.

Hey, Bryan. How you doing?

Well, I am almost finished digitizing everything up to '92.

Then I'd slow down.

'Cause you got, like, what,

20 more hours of community service?

Well, I'm just trying to do a good job.

Come here.

You're not, uh,

angling for a full-time gig, are you?

Well, as a matter of fact... Oh...

I knew you'd figure it out.

Come on, now.

You know where you come from!

Got all them A's in science.

What?

This is good news.

Yeah, Mom, I don't want a job here.

I need your help getting a work card.

I got a job lined up over at Aurora.

Hosting. Can you believe that?

You want to work at a casino?

Well, I want to run one someday.

But what-what happened to, like, art school?

Mom, you didn't care about that a second ago. You know.

I thought graphic design was the thing for me.

There's no excitement.

You just sit there by yourself all day.

You want to hang around at a casino?

Please trust me. Please.

I know this is the right thing for me.

And I need your help.

You ever been on a horse this long?

Previous best was a pony at the fair.

You're a natural.

Thanks. That's... Uh-oh.

What?

Over there.

Look.

We got him.

I'll drop a pin.

I know. I got my hopes up, too.

Gunshot. Through and through.

Some of the blood on Kings Gambit

was probably arterial spray that got covered up

when he fell forward and the wound kept gushing.

Emery Hollis. 50 years old.

I hope he bled out before they started beating him.

A lot more spatter than I would expect from those wounds.

We better document all this.

We need to know where this started.

I'll take the body.

- All right, guys, let's get someone

from the coroner's out here.

Hey. This is where he was shot.

Horse bolted. He fell off at that shed.

He was almost home.

We're close to the victim's address.

Y-You're trespassing!

But your hair's pretty. Looks soft.

Jonas? We have cops.

Hey, everybody.

Come say hi to the cops.

We're not police.

We're from the crime lab.

Are you in charge here, sir?

Jonas, for Pete's sake, will you put that axe away?

I'm Denny Trask. I'm the foreman here.

Sorry about the welcoming committee.

The kids get a little skittish around law enforcement.

We try to get them past it, but...

uh, you can imagine.

Not-not really. Sorry, what is this place?

I suspected you knew.

Rancho Comienzos is a halfway house.

These kids--

they're all, you know,

convicted killers.

I just saw my dad last night.

Cory. Cory.

Those guns--

are those all of the firearms on the property?

My dad inherited them.

He never took them out. I don't really know.

None of these have been fired recently.

Or cleaned, even.

It's hard to tell if any are missing, though.

We're gonna need to speak to everyone

who has access to this safe, Cory.

Is your brother about?

Um, no.

He killed himself when he was 14.

Connor was violent.

Toward others,

then himself.

My dad did everything he could to help him, but...

That's why he started this place.

To save the next Connor.

So this ranch is staffed with juvenile homicide offenders?

Yeah, they get a roof over their head,

an honest day's work, equine therapy.

And where did you get the horses from?

Uh, had Butch forever.

Sundance we found grazing on the edge of the property

about a year ago.

Just lost from a wild herd, we figured.

- Is he all right? So, Cory,

I'm gonna need some information,

some DNA samples from your residents here.

Uh, there's three right now.

We have to maintain files for the state.

Hmm.

Jonas Reeves, pushed a kid in front of a truck.

May Ellen Peyton, dosed her father

with rat poison so he would stop snoring.

Theo LaVelle.

This little devil made national news.

He beat his folks to death with a shovel.

My dad would take a chance on anybody.

He was a hero.

You kids. You get to visit

a real-life murder ranch and you're still

just staring at your screens.

Thought I'd try to figure out what kind of weapon

- we're looking for. - Hmm.

Well, that's a lot of castoff.

It's a strange pattern.

I'm thinking maybe a sledge.

Flings off those tendrils as it spins?

Maybe.

Go and find out what made that mess.

Tell Allie what we're looking for.

She'll turn this place upside down.

You headed off to the autopsy?

- Yeah. - Bet Hugo finds

- a big heart in there. - Mm-hmm.

Opening his home to this crew.

Wonder if, uh, Hollis knew

about the recidivism rates of violent sociopaths.

I don't want to argue with a geneticist

about DNA and destiny, but...

Something on your mind?

- Bryan called me. - Yeah?

He asked me if I'd be his reference to get a work card.

He got a job offer at a casino.

As a host. He'd be great.

Bryan's granddad

is addicted to gambling.

Now, I don't think Bryan is wired that way,

but statistically, the genes...

If we were all just a collection of genes,

I would've robbed you blind by now,

all the crooks in my family tree.

But you're an exception, Joshua, and I want to provide

the right nurture for Bryan's nature.

I don't want him in the wrong environment, and he shouldn't

have talked to you about this anyway.

I told him I'd think about it.

Maybe he knows the stats on how often you change your mind.

What happened-- someone kill a unicorn?

No, it's not

rainbow blood.

Just rough drafts until I can...

reproduce this pattern.

Were you, uh... were you looking for someone?

No, no.

I've always enjoyed spatter analysis.

Soothing.

Type testing suggests it's all from the victim.

Hugo says he got hit by something heavy and sharp

four times.

Ooh.

Did you try a post hole shovel?

Closest I've come. Still not it.

Half-moon, flat, worn, rusted.

And none of 'em... quite get there.

Maybe you're looking at a combo platter.

You know, like one swing

from the yellow one, three swings from the red one.

Maybe?

He used two tools, didn't he?

Still doesn't explain your volume problem, though.

No, I can never quite produce enough castoff.

- Well, there's a killer's signature

in there somewhere, Monet.

Just keep painting.

You'llfind it.

Okay, just one more question.

An air conditioner running full blast--

could that, like, preserve a body?

Mm. No.

But environmental factors can affect decomp.

It would slow it a little.

So if I had cranked the AC,

it would have looked like Daddy died, like...

two hours later.

Okay. Um, well,

there's no obvious murder weapons here.

Theo, right?

I'm Allie.

From the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Just...

just here to, um... You're gonna dig

through all my stuff.

Just like juvie.

No privacy.

Do you know where I might find a shovel?

Sorry.

Do you like it here, Theo?

Was Emery good to you?

I get it.

It's hard when someone you care about dies.

Everybody dies.

We should all just try to get used to it.

Ah. Are you knitting me a Christmas sweater?

We IDed the thread in that grenade pin. It's a hybrid.

Orlon wool and cellulose.

It's a bamboo-blend yarn.

That doesn't sound like the kind of thing used

- in commercial fabrics, does it? - No, but it's not

that rare, either. We're trying to find local craft stores

that sell yarn from the same lot by isolating the dye and...

Oh, here we go.

- Did you find another seller? - Even better.

This store, Knit To Be Tied, has our thread,

and you'll never believe who follows them.

- Not Wix. - A Wix.

Anson's sister. Anna.

She looks like one of this little store's best customers.

She has Huntington's disease.

Looks like he takes care of her.

If they live together

and there's more of that yarn there...

There is not a judge out there

that would issue the search warrant that we need

based on who she follows.

I'm gonna learn more about this Anna Wix.

Maybe she's on Instagram.

- You got the prescription filled.

You okay? Is the land sickness getting worse?

I just need to lower my cortisol levels.

I'd prefer to do it by solving something.

Less side effects. But this is option "B,"

just in case.

Hi, Emma.

W...

Slow down. I-- Is everything all right?

What do you mean David is missing?

- David?

What are you doing here?

H-How did you know I was...

Pretrial motions in your case today.

You said Wix comes here after court.

You know you're being monitored.

The hell are you doing?

Why?

Why me?

I want Wix to tell me to my face exactly what I did

to deserve having my life torn apart.

Do you think that he's gonna tell you?

We need to keep him in the dark. We need him cocky,

carefree, making mistakes.

Confronting him is only gonna hurt the case.

What am I supposed to do, sit at home

while everybody else handles this?

It's my case.

It's my life.

You are our family.

And I told you that we are gonna handle it.

But we can't if you tip Wix--

all bets are off.

Sara.

Let me do the talking.

Does trash duty make you wish

you'd stuck with veterinary school?

Doesn't smell great there, either.

Is that why you quit?

My mom got sick.

Medical bills were piling up.

And, uh, CSI pays you when you get accepted to the academy.

And I always thought it was cool how they put my Uncle Tim away,

so...

So this was never your passion?

It is now.

Fell in love with it.

If you embrace change, things have a way of...

working out.

I'm with Emery Hollis on... that.

That looks like a straw.

Not really.

Straw's a tube of horse ejaculate. Used in breeding.

It's weird that it's here with this office trash.

Hmm.

I'd say this is a little more expected.

Guess whose trash can this came out of.

Why am I here?

Because someone didn't just shoot Emery Hollis.

They beat him to death.

Couldn't stop, actually.

We know you have anger issues, Theo.

You killed your parents with a shovel.

You don't know what they were like.

Emery Hollis

was a good man.

What's your excuse this time?

We found that in your trash.

The DNA from the bloodstains

matches Emery Hollis.

The DNA inside the shirt is yours.

It's not from...

Listen.

Three weeks ago, I was in the stables.

Some dude T-boned Emery's truck.

Emery. I ran out,

saw the guy drive off.

He was

really banged up.

I knew we would all be suspects.

- That's why I trashed the shirt. - You didn't wash

a bloody shirt for three weeks?

I don't do my laundry every day!

Theo. Theo.

Theo.

Emery...

was a good man.

I'd never hurt him.

You-you have to believe me.

No, I don't.

I can put your story to the test.

Hey.

Heard I missed a humdinger of an interrogation

- last night. - Yeah, I'm only standing here

'cause Theo LaVelle didn't have a shovel handy.

Did he deny that that's the victim's blood on his shirt?

No, he said it was from three weeks before the murder.

Just kept a bloody shirt in the hamper for a month.

Wish I had a-a shovel for that one.

Allie said his room was a Cat 5 disaster zone.

Raman spectrometer can only give

a range on that - bloodstain, right? - Yeah,

which is why we don't use it often.

The MO and victimology fit, so odds are...

I'm not, uh, arguing statistics with you again,

but maybe he was just upset.

Different people grieve different ways,

and he's...

a different one.

Spectral analysis says...

...blood's approximately three weeks old.

It's not from the murder.

A wise man once said,

"Never tell me the odds."

You got him sent back home with just a warning?

The responding officer's partner is out on maternity leave.

So I told him that Hodges' wife is having pregnancy craving...

- Badass. - It was lucky.

You dodged - a bullet there. - Yeah.

Yeah, but just one.

Monitoring violations get reported

to all parties.

Wix is probably gonna assume

that Hodges was there to confront him.

They've been there together several times.

It's one of Wix's haunts.

So now there's no reason

not to talk to Anna Wix about the thread

her brother tangled up in his grenade.

You really think she knows anything?

She's probably just guilty of knitting green cardigans.

It's not easy keeping secrets when you're living

under the same roof.

- I don't even try anymore. - So,

without a warrant,

you're thinking about a friendly visit?

Max can't pry anything out of the Washoe lab.

We need some answers.

Anna might have them.

Someone's got to talk to her one-on-one,

so as not to make her feel like we're ganging up on her.

I won the coin flip, so I'm gonna go.

After you tell me everything you found on Anna Wix.

Al, I need you to head back to the ranch

to run down - Theo's hit-and-run story. - Sure.

Oh, but, while I've got you,

I just ran the straw that we found.

Folsom was right. It's equine ejaculate.

A genetic match to Kings Gambit.

Do I want to know how you get horse sperm in a tube like that?

There's purpose-built devices,

but we didn't find any at the ranch.

Someone took matters into their own hands.

I keep telling you all, people in this town

will do anything for a buck.

Oh, I looked up foals sired by Kings Gambit.

Busy boy.

See, that gap there corresponds

to when he went missing from Locke Stables.

Then Kings Gambit offspring

start showing up again last month.

So somebody at the ranch was doing unauthorized breeding.

And if Sawyer Locke found out...

He'd have motive.

Good job.

Are you trying to figure out

who crashed into Mr. Hollis' truck?

- You didn't see it, did you? - No.

I just had more questions.

About the case and...

just forensics, I guess?

Do you have a minute?

May Ellen,

are you trying to solve this murder?

Mr. Hollis did a lot for me.

He was actually trying to get me to go back to school.

Biology.

You should.

I don't know.

I don't really fit in with people.

Mm, neither do most lab techs.

Trust me.

That's a cute look.

Uh, I am going cross-eyed

staring at blood spatter for the second straight day.

And there's never enough blood.

Was hoping you were doing better in here.

I am.

I found something that looks like that

on Emery Hollis' truck.

Color match plus bumper height pegs it as a Dodge pickup.

Model year '95 to '97.

Mm. There's got to be dozens of those in Clark County.

83, actually.

I'm just pulling the owners' names off the DMV.

Thought I'd start making some calls.

Think we might want to start with that one.

Fine. I was at his damn ranch.

Last month,

a breeder friend of mine asked when I got him back.

I checked online, and, sure enough,

somebody was pimping him.

How'd you figure out it was Hollis?

The idiot shipped the straws

with his return address on there.

Rancho Comienzos.

If he'd've been straight with me,

we could've worked something out.

Instead, you rammed his truck.

Don't bother denying it.

Well, he played dumb,

and I lost my temper.

Then what happened? You went back and finished him off?

Easy enough to take a horse from a dead guy.

Unless the horse bolts.

You're not listening,

and you're fixin' to piss me off.

You rammed his truck,

and now you're expecting us to believe that you never hurt him?

Look, you want to turn me over to the traffic cops

for the accident, fine.

But I sure as hell never killed anybody.

You see?

I didn't.

You still think he did it.

I do.

And I think I'm gonna need some more paint to prove it.

- Would you like something to drink?

I would, but, uh, you might be about to throw me out.

You said you were with CSI.

I assume this is about Anson's class action?

Ms. Wix, we think your brother engaged some of his clients

in a criminal conspiracy.

We're trying to prevent one innocent man

from going to jail and thousands

of guilty ones from getting out.

Anything you know that could help us...

I know my little brother hates you people.

There should be so many more articles on that fridge.

But you CSI types were always getting in his way,

telling your stories in court.

His name should've been famous.

And it will be one day.

I'm glad about that.

So you think what he's doing is justified

because he's been... It's tragic

to be overlooked.

It's our family curse.

When you came here, did you assume

I'd be some clueless invalid?

- You know everything, don't you? - I like

to watch Anson's trials.

He's used lots of expert witnesses.

I don't think any were as smug as David Hodges.

"We just follow the evidence.

The evidence never lies."

Mm.

I told Anson,

out of everyone in that lab,

it's David Hodges who's easiest to picture faking evidence.

Did you believe it, Dr. Grissom?

Maybe just for a little while?

It doesn't matter what people believe to be true.

It matters what is true.

Oh.

No, it doesn't.

Where have you been?

Look at the world.

The best story wins.

It's all that matters.

Thanks for stopping by.

You should come back with your wife

and your friend, Dr. Roby.

You could search this house if you want.

You won't find anything.

I'll see you in court.

I'm looking forward to it.

All that castoff's from Emery Hollis.

None's from the killer.

There's so much blood and such an abnormal pattern,

but I can't replicate it in under 15 strikes.

Mm, but there were four wounds.

No, there were four visible wounds.

But when Locke was pounding the table, it made me think.

So...

That...

would leave a bruise.

Once the shovel got involved...

Those strikes would cover other contusions.

You think the killer beat him first?

Emery Hollis was already bleeding profusely

from the gunshot that knocked him off the horse.

Well, the killer's hand would've been coated.

And tired.

His fist loosened.

Started to open up on the backswing.

Whap. Whap.

Now you hit him with the shovel,

give him a whack.

Okay, so the shovel castoff

accounts for the larger drops.

Put it all together,

you get that tangle at the scene.

Great. First there was

too much blood.

Now there's missing spatter.

It's not spatter that's missing.

It's a finger.

I asked Denny Trask, the ranch foreman,

- to send this over. Mm.

I thought I remembered this.

Is that Cory Hollis?

With his younger brother Connor who "killed himself."

- You don't think Cory did it. - That tragedy's

why Emery Hollis started his rehab ranch.

Ten years later, he still kept his son close.

In an environment designed to keep killers

on the straight and narrow.

Yeah. How'd that work out?

Stop! Get off him!

Stop it!

Stop. Get off.

He killed Emery.

He killed him. You're a liar.

I heard cops asking for a picture of you.

- They think you did it. - Shut up.

Don't talk about my father like that.

All you ever cared about was the money.

He's right, isn't he?

We found the straw, Cory.

You've been breeding Kings Gambit.

So what if I was? - What's it matter? - It matters

because your dad found out.

The horse's owner

came out here and accused him.

Your dad covered for you.

But he wouldn't let it lie, right?

He caught you

taking that horse to stud.

He didn't like that you were a horse thief and a liar.

It got heated, and you shot your father.

You can deny it all you want.

We have blood evidence that says

you followed him to that shed.

Your missing finger signed your name.

'Course, that was hard to see,

because you covered your signature

with Theo's.

See, you knew people would think

that a killer kid did this, right?

But you're one, aren't you?

Did you kill your brother Connor?

I got it.

You're not as good at covering your crimes

as your dad was.

Get him out.

They're gonna take me away, aren't they?

Not unless Cory thinks to press charges.

But, Theo...

Emery was the one person who ever...

...trusted me.

You know what that meant?

He saw me.

Not just what I did.

Almost done. Just one more minute and we'll go.

Actually, I got to stay late.

I was gonna give you the car and...

catch a cab home.

You take the car, I'll take the cab.

You work too much.

Can't help it. It's in our blood.

I think you're a lot like me.

When you finally find what you want to do, you...

do it all the way.

So it really matters what you choose.

Yeah, I got it, Mom.

If you really want to be a host,

work in hospitality...

I trust you.

Can I trust you?

Of course you can.

I'll get you that work card.

Yes.

I come to that casino,

I better get a free umbrella drink

with some wings or something.

You come to my casino, you a VIP.

I love you.

Heard this boy's breaking out of the pound today.

You here to pick him up for Locke Stables?

No. About that...

All right.

Breaking news from the Las Vegas criminalistics case

as final motions have been made for the upcoming trial.

Adam Tyner, David Hodges' lawyer,

has been angling to eliminate certain pieces

of evidence... We're gonna stop him.

...that could potentially connect Hodges to the warehou...

The world's gone nuts, Sara.

People don't even believe the truth

in front of their faces anymore.

Facts, evidently,

up for debate.

Empirical science, eh,

just someone's opinion.

You know, if Wix's sister was so confident

that we wouldn't find anything in their home,

maybe he ran the whole frame-up from someplace else.

Well...

if that's the rabbit hole you want to go down, darling,

I'll jump in with you.

Oh.

Someone found what they were looking for.

Sometimes it works backwards, right?

Find the perp, leads you to the murder weapon.

I heard it was - the victim's son. - He cleaned it

pretty good before he tossed it in the dumpster

behind his apartment, but DNA on the handle's gonna help

- put him away. - What about the horse?

I hope he's not gonna go back

- to the owner. - Well...

Wiped out my savings and had to pull some strings,

but he's mine now.

Figure it'll be fun on weekends.

Why not? Every hero deserves a white horse.

Undersheriff, hey.

To what do I owe the pleasure?

I'm sorry about this, Max.

I need you to stand up.

What?

You know exactly why I'm here.

You contacted the head of the Washoe Crime Lab.

You were digging for information

about how they were handling the Hodges case.

Sending this case over there

was supposed to avoid conflicts of interest.

You blew that all to hell.

Effective immediately,

you're no longer head of criminalistics.

You'll be demoted and suspended with pay until...

You can't do this to me.

This came from on high,

Max.

I wish it wasn't this way,

but I need you to step away from your desk

and vacate the premises.

Will you tell me who's behind it?

Ask him.

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