All language subtitles for In Plain Sight s02e10 Miles to Go.eng

Since 1970, the federal witness protection
program has relocated thousands of witnesses...

some criminal, some not... to
neighborhoods all across the country.

Every one of those individuals shares a unique attribute,

distinguishing them from the
rest of the general population.

And that is... somebody wants them dead.

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corrected by chamallow35
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Friday night? You guys still working?

Oh, Eddie!

Yeah, we got a refrigerator car full of
sock eye salmon and a busted compressor.

Honey time.

Yeah, well you know how it is.

Somebody's got to pay for the wife's tanning salon, right?

How's the kid?
Great.

I got a visitation this weekend.

And the quadrantid meteor
shower is at its peak tomorrow.

I'm sure that means something to you.

It's amazing. It's like the fourth
of July fireworks, only it's stars.

Hey, check it out.

Just got Miles a new telescope.

Ed, four grand!

Aw, that's nothing. You can spend ten times that.

Home astronomer nowadays can do things
Palomar couldn't do15 years ago.

That's one lucky kid you've got.

Yeah, my old man wouldn't pay for
a bucket of water if I was on fire.

Well, I better make my rounds. See you guys.

All right. We got 40 minutes.

Yeah, I miss you too, kiddo.

12 hours and counting.

Guess what I got.

That's right! The meade, with the
plossl eyepiece. How did you know?

The millimeter? Uh, I don't know. Let me look.

Oh, damn, the catalogue... I left it on the dock.

I'm gonna have to give you a call back.

What the hell is this?

Damn it, Ed.

What the hell are you doing back here?

Frank.

Sorry, Ed.

You shoot me... and I'll drop a half ton of
frozen fish on that pretty car you have there.

360 spider.

I'm not much of a car guy, but it sounds like
you have a very expensive bulletin that gun.

Come on, Frank. You know me.

I just want to go home to my son in one piece.

I won't tell anyone. I swear.

All right.

Go on, get out of here.
Now, put that gun away.

And both of you, get in the car.

You're out of your mind if you think that...
I'll drop this.

So help me God, I will.
All right.

All right.
Come on! Get in the car!

But you better keep your mouth shut.

Or I swear to almighty God, I will...
I will...

definitely think about it.

So, let's see... the men involved in the car
theft ring you're supposed to testify against

are all in jail awaiting trial, which is good.

That said, they worked for an international
operation that had contacts in Europe, Asia,

and South America. Not so good.

So how long am I going to be in witness protection?

We're kind of like the mafia.

Once you're in, you're in.

Except, we don't kill you if you decide to leave.

The people you testify against however, might.

What about my visitation? Has that all been worked out?

Visitation?
Yeah. For my son, Miles.

My ex and I have a custody arrangement.

The A.U.S.A. said he'd talk to you about it.

Miles? I don't...

Yeah, she has him during the week. I
get him every other Saturday and Sunday.

Maybe we're missing some pages.
Missing pages?

He was supposed to visit this weekend.

Ed, I don't know what the D.O.J. promised, but if your
son's not in the program, he can't come visit you.

And if he is in the program, he can't visit his mother.

That's just Witsec policy.
Wait, no, no, no. Hold on a second. Forget it.

There's no way in hell I'm gonna testify...

Hang on, let's not get excited before
we know what we're dealing with.

We can talk to our boss.

It's possible we could get a special dispensation.

Hey, look, I work in the security business,
I know what words like "dispensation" mean.

I told the FBI already.

I told the assistant U.S.Attorney. Now I'm telling you.

If I don't see my son this weekend, you
can kiss my ass and my testimony goodbye.

Are we clear?

Why weren't we informed the guy has a son?

Well, then where's the paperwork?

Yeah, right, and the dog ate my homework.

Listen, numb nuts, I don't think
you're seeing the big picture here.

Your conviction relies on the testimony of
a witness who lost his home, his friends,

his job, and now, thanks to your ineptitude, his son.

But here's the part you should really be focusing on...

come trial time, this case brings
me ball-punching distance to you.

Yeah, good idea. You look into it.

Idiot. What's this?

While you were verbally spanking
the future ex-governor of Illinois,

I obtained a copy of the paperwork he sent to his wife.

So there was paperwork filed?

Would you like me to get him on the phone
so you can apologize? Or just send a card?

No, let's go with the card this time.

Hey, look, no. There's no signature. It never went through.

Well, that happens sometimes. Just have
to track her down, get her to sign it.

So cancel the card?
Yeah, I think so.

And you know what, while you're at it,
track her down, and get a signature on this.

Have to admit, she played that beautifully.

Come on in.

So let me guess... no dispensation?

But you're working on it.

Some guy at the home office is checking with legal,

who's getting into it with human
resources, but she's out sick?

Something like that?
So cynical.

Actually we did get dispensation, smart ass.

I get to see Miles this weekend?

Not exactly.

Here we go.
Well, there's good news and bad news.

The good news is we talked to our boss, and
he said visitation will not be a problem.

We take you to a neutral location,

your son is brought to the same location by marshals
from Illinois for a fun-filled father-son weekend.

No muss, no fuss. Done deal.

And the bad news?

Is this contact info for your ex-wife correct?

Uh, yeah. Why?

We're sorry. The number you
have reached is not in service.

Please check the number or try your call again.

Uh, okay...

so she changed her number and forgot to tell me.

Or couldn't.

I'm not exactly the easiest to reach these days.

The address on Lakeshore Drive is vacant.
What?

Are... are you sure?
Was there any bad blood between you two?

I mean, the usual amount, but...

we always put Miles first.

And we both agreed early on that
he needs a mother and a father.

Well, one of you may have broken that agreement.

Your wife may have used your
entrance into witness protection to...

I don't believe that she would do this.

Ed, we're gonna need to know everything about her.

She's a nurse in oncology.

She works at Cook County Hospital, Caroline Fogerty.

She kept your name?

Well, that's how she's known... professionally.

Ed... you can't have this. Okay?

You were told when you came into
the program no diplomas, no photos.

Nothing from your past.

I have to take it.

Eh, having a photo of your son will
make it easier to find him, okay?

Yeah, go ahead. I'm sorry.

Look, it's probably just a mix-up, but... if it's not...

I don't know what I'd do if I never saw my son again.

Listen to me...

the U.S. Marshal service is the best
in the world at finding people.

We're gonna find Miles.

Office manager in a Chicago hospital just
checked the national nurses registry for me.

Caroline Fogerty isn't listed.

Oh, look at you... scrapbooking.

Ed's residential history, tax status, liens, credit.

And what a fascinating tale of tales, a native chicagoan.

Allergic to celery.

Not relevant, but... okay.

Fico score of 675.
Impressive.

Really?

Eye of the beholder.

Well, there we have it.

Four hours later, we've learned Ed's
normal, and I have crappy credit.

However, I've yet to find any divorce paperwork of any kind.

No custody filing. No dissomasters, no nada.

So I grew skeptical, as is my wont.

Had Eleanor pull vital records.

Why don't you tell Mary what you found, hon?

You called her "hon."

No, I didn't.
Yeah, you did.

So what's the big deal? It's just a
friendly salutation. You know, like...

"hey, hon, can you bring me the forms to be filed?"

Oh, I see!

Like when you call me "snuggles," or Stan
refers to you as his "butter scotch stallion."

Okay, okay. That's enough. Eleanor,
please. Tell Mary what you found.

Or in this case, what you didn't find.

I did not find a marriage license, nor did I
find a birth certificate for the little boy.

No birth certificate?
Not for the little boy.

Miles doesn't have a birth certificate?
Am I not speaking clearly?

So if Miles doesn't have a birth certificate...

it can only mean one thing.

Miles is amish.

Or Miles doesn't exist.

Oh, yeah. No, I see how you could get that too.

Why are there no vital records of
your ex-wife or your kid anywhere?

What? That doesn't make any sense.

Exactly. And I don't like it when my
witnesses tell me things that don't make sense.

No phone, no address. Their social
security numbers don't exist.

Makes me think maybe they don't exist.

Well, somebody's been cashing my alimony checks.

You're serious?
Yes, I'm serious.

So unless someone is intentionally
hiding Miles and Caroline...

maybe Miles is in the program.
- No.

No, no. Maybe he's in the program and he's trying to find me.

No, Ed, it doesn't work like that.

You just said that you can't find my ex-wife and child?

You said you were really good at finding people.

Oh, God.

Miles. You have to find him. You have to find my son.

Oh, God.

Sir, are you okay?

Sir, do you need help?

What's your name?

Is there anybody that I can
call for you? A relative maybe?

How'd it go?

Even if his kid's not real, his reaction sure was.

He believes he has a son.

Which begs the question... can one
reality be more valid than another?

Beyond that which we perceive, of course.
Oh, no.

But that which we know to be true.

Or are there transcendent realities?

Universal states of truth.

There has to be something you can take for that.

There isn't.
Oh, come on.

If Miles is a figment of Ed's imagination, this
kid belongs to someone, and I want to know who.

I agree.

But I think this is now a mental-health
issue, and you're not a qualified expert.

You've met my family.

Mary, I'm serious. From here on in, we proceed delicately.

Stan, who did you call?

Come on in.

Mary.
Shelly.

Frankenstein! Jinx.

She's just jealous 'cause she didn't think of it.

So what are we looking at here?

Ed Fogerty, head of security for Great Lakes and
Ocean Cargo, 38 years old, and perfectly healthy.

Except for the hamster in a wheel he calls a brain.

What's different about you?

Absolutely nothing.

Duly noted.

Gross, dude.

You said an ambulance was gonna
be here a while ago. Where is it?

Jesus.

Okay.

Come on, let's get up.

Really? You're okay? You want me to go now?

What does that mean?

Oh, thank you so much.

Um, I'm just gonna go grab my friend, okay? Thanks.

What do you got?

I see nothing out of the ordinary in Ed's
medical history... going back to childhood.

No behavioral abnormalities, outbursts,
schizophrenia, psychosis, nothing.

So he's healthy?

High functioning.
Yeah, other than the imaginary child.

I'm not a doctor, but given this pervasive
delusion in the absence of any other symptoms,

I strongly recommend we consult a neurologist.
For what?

To find his tumor.

What makes you so sure it's a tumor?

False beliefs of this magnitude do
not occur in otherwise ordinary men.

You've never actually dated a man, have you?

This is different from thinking you
sing like Robert Plantin the shower.

Or thinking this is eight inches.

There is something different about you.

If you really want to know, I just ended a
six-year relationship with a depressed man.

It took you six years to figure out it wasn't working?

One of the pit falls of my profession.
What is?

Conflating the belief that you're
needed with the sensation of actual love.

Believe it or not, I used to be fun.

Thank you for setting this up so quickly.

He does not have a tumor.

Oh, don't look so disappointed. Now what?

Now we try an experimental procedure.

We talk to him.
Great.

Before we talk to him, I can't stress
enough how delicate Ed's situation is.

Since we've ruled out a tumor, we're most
likely dealing with severe trauma here.

This imaginary child could be someone he's lost...

a younger sibling, maybe even a younger,
severely abused version of himself.

Whatever the cause, his whole life
revolves around a child named Miles.

And this is the only reason he's still functioning.

If someone were to take that away...

I promised I'd help find his son. That's what I'm gonna do.

And if Miles only exists in Ed's
mind, still have to look, right?

So lead the way.

Really?
Yeah.

Just don't know how to explain
that you're here to shrink his head.

Ed, this is Shelly Finkel, from the marshal service.

She's gonna help you find your wife and son.

Okay, great. Nice to meet you.
And you.

I have a few questions. I hope that's okay.

Yeah. Anything to expedite this mess.

What is your ex-wife's maiden name?

Uh, Dent.

What are her parents' names?

Ann-Marie and Paul... Dent.

Their address?

Uh, something or other West Cicero, Chicago.

I'm not sure of the number anymore.

How old is Miles?

Six. He was born March 4, 2003.

How'd you come up with that name, Miles?

You a jazz fan?
No.

He had this look when he was born...

this... sweet, perpetual smile.

Smile would be a weird name for a kid.

So you move the "s" to the back, and you get Miles.

Either of you guys have kids?

No.

Well... it makes you a better man.

What a waste.
That he's sick?

No, that he's the best dad in the
world, and he doesn't have a kid.

I'm gonna head back in there, see
what I can dig up around less stimulus.

I'm stimulus?
Thanks. No hits on the kid.

Not even with missing persons?

Nothing. Maybe the photo came with the frame.

No, the original's worn, wrinkled, like
somebody loved it, carried it in their pocket.

Could've been Ed who carried it in his pocket.
Maybe.

I've spent hours looking at that kid. It looks nothing like Ed.

Well, Ed's not completely deluded.

There is an Ann-Marie and Paul Dent on West Cicero in Chicago.

All that proves is Ed's peppering his delusion with truth.

Well, I asked them if they have a daughter.

They do. Her name's Caroline.

She's a nurse, not in oncology, but
critical care. Lives in Seattle.

Probably sat next to her in geometry class.

20 years later, he pulls it out of his ass.

More pepper.
I knew you'd say that, so I prodded.

Her parents said Caroline used to be
married to a guy named Ed Fogerty.

I'm sorry, what? I don't understand you.

I really want to help you, but I don't speak indian.

Can you show me where it hurts?

Mr. Hernandez.

Okay, this is ridiculous.

Sorry.

Uh, excuse me, nurse.

I've told you three times, ma'am.

We'll get to him when we can.
I know, but he's suffering.

He's going to have to wait his turn like everyone else.

Even if he's having chest pains?

He's having chest pains?

I know you keep saying that, but
I have no idea what that means.

You have to wait there, miss.

So, uh, what's his story? I mean, are you two...

In love? No.

Are you?
No. I'm just...

Well, if you're so curious, ask him
to a chess tournament or something.

Just spoke to Caroline Dent.

She and Ed met on a freighter.

It seems crews will sometimes
take on nursing students for free.

Not a lot of medical professionals on the high seas.

After school, she caught the travel bug.

I went to Italy after college.

Ah, I spent six months in the Azores myself.

Jersey shore.

One day this big brick of a long shoreman comes in for an aspirin.

That sounds like the Ed we know.

They get married going through the Panama canal.

The ship's captain conducts the ceremony.

The marriage lasts six months.

Caroline gets off in Hong Kong and never looks back.

There were some calls, but...
What about Miles?

She never heard the name.

No miscarriages, no adoptions.

Dead end, though we did get on the topic of eye color.

What about it?

Ed's are blue, Caroline's too.

The kid in your photo, brown.

Please don't drag this out.

It's biologically impossible for him to
be the son of Ed Fogerty and Caroline Dent,

because blue eyes are...

caused by the presence of two recessive alleles.

You'll have to excuse me.

I've decided two nerds rutting is a little much for me to bear.

Gonna head back to the motel, find
out who the kid in that photo is.

I found your ex-wife.

You did?
Yes.

Does she have Miles?

Come on, Ed. You're gonna have to do better than that.

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about the kid in this photo.

We're worried about him.
Yeah, so am I.

What the hell is this all about?

Ed, it seems you haven't been totally honest with us.

You want to talk about honesty?

You're not a marshal. I know what you are.

I was the head of security for
an international shipping company,

and you didn't think I knew how to google?

You lied to me.

What's worse, you've wasted precious time,
time that we could have spent finding my boy.

Ed, I'm sorry, but...

You people have been treating me like I'm crazy.

Ed, calm down.
Don't tell me to calm down!

Ever since I came in this program,
everything has been turned upside down...

my job, my home, my freedom, my name.

And I'm not gonna lose my son because of your inaction!

Where you going?

Out.

Can't let you do that, big guy.

Am I under arrest?

Am I being charged with anything?

I need to think.

Or are you gonna take that away from me too?

He's telling you he needs to think.

This may not look like progress, but it is.

He's progressing out of the parking lot at a dead sprint.

Does he really run like that?
Afraid so.

I can't believe you lost him.

I had a blowout, screwed up my gallop. It happens.

Maybe something's got you distracted.

So this is my fault.

"Let him go. He needs to think.
This is progress." Ring a bell?

Albuquerque 911 dispatch just got a call
from a guy saying his name was Ed Fogerty.

Apparently tried to file a missing persons report with them.

Things got a little wonky from there.

"He's gone. Please help. You don't understand.
I can't find him. He's not anywhere."

That's the saddest thing I've ever heard.

He's trying to find the little boy that lives in his head.

Yeah?

Yeah, yeah, I know exactly which
road you're talking about.

We'll be there in 20.

You're never gonna guess where
Ed's spending his Friday afternoon.

Can you get my neck?

Oh, uh, sure.

Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm out of
practices praying other people.

It's okay.

Caught him hopping the fence there.

Told him to get off the property.

He looked upset.

So took him in for 20 minutes, offered him hot cocoa.

Took it with him when he went over that ridge.

I want that mug back.

How big is your ranch?

8,000 acres.

You mind if I borrow that?
Sure.

Mary, Mary, hang on a minute, now.

She better get back before night.
Why? What happens at night?

It gets dark.

You drove away rather quickly back there.

Yeah, so what's your point?

Okay, I get it. Shelly screwed up.
I lost the guy. Where are you?

How the hell should I know? Near a bush of some kind.

Toy on Berry or Mesquite?

You're joking, right?

He can't be very far. Stay where you are...

Hello?
Hello?

Damn it.

Well, we're at a fork in the proverbial road. Which way?

That one's a game trail... rough terrain, ascending.

The altitude here is over 5,000 feet.

A guy from Chicago has got to experience a degree of hypoxia.

He'll take the path well-traveled.

So, uh, I don't know what your situation is.

My... situation?

Well, would you be interested in maybe some time

getting together f... for some coffee some time?

Well, I'm... flattered.

But I'm kind of in the middle of a... manhunt.

Yeah?

I may have found something, but
I need to know what I'm looking at.

It looks like disturbed rocks
or something, and I see gouges.

It could be from an animal.

Direction of travel would be in line with those gouges.

It's gonna be dark soon.

I'm gonna leave the atv at the top
of this ridge with the headlights on.

If you don't hear from me in ten, get a helicopter.

The lights should be easy to spot from the sky.
Copy that.

Mary? Mary?

Ed! Ed! Ed!

Ed. Ed.

Okay, Ed. Okay. Are you hurt?

Yeah, my ankle.
Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Okay.

T this on. There you go.

I'm all out of cocoa.

Yeah, okay.

The rancher wants that mug back, by the way.

Marshall.
Yeah.

Marshall, where are you?

I'm in a stand of juniper.

I think it's tasmanian blue juniper.

I found Ed.

She found him.

He's hurt, though. He hurt his ankle.
There's no way I can move him by myself.

What's your 20?

In a ravine, about 100 yards or so south of the atv.

Just look for the headlights.

I got nothing. Mary?

He's out there somewhere. You have to find him.

Yeah, we will.

But first we got to get you out of this ravine.

I looked for him everywhere.

I ran, and I ran, and I thought I saw him at
one point, but then I fell, and I hurt my ankle.

Really? You saw him. What was he wearing?

I'll arrange a search party.

Uh, he was wearing a blue jacket and a... uh, a tie.

Just like in the photo.

Yeah.

Yeah.
Okay.

Okay.

What's going on?
The temp is dropping with the sun.

We need a chopper out here now.

Miles loved the stars.

Loves.

Loves the stars.

I can see a lot more here than in Chicago.

Does Miles have a favorite constellation?

Yeah, Hercules.

Which one's that?

I've never been able to see those things.

Hercules is right there. See it?

All I see is a random arrangement of dots light-years apart.

I tend to see things as they
really are, no magic, no shine.

Do you like being that way?

I don't know. Sometimes it's good, sometimes...

it's not so good.

My dad used to tell me,"we don't need
magic, just as long as we've got..."

anyway...

sometimes I wish there was justa little magic.

Miles is lucky to have such a great dad.

I don't know about that.

It's all my fault.

What is?

You think we're gonna find him?

Yeah, I do.

I think we're getting really close to him.

What's all your fault?

What happened to that child in the picture.

What happened, Ed?

I think if you tell me, we might be able to finally find him.

Ed, what color are Caroline's eyes?
They're blue.

Yours are blue too.
Yeah.

Miles' eyes are brown.

M... m... my mother's eyes are brown.

H... he takes after her.

No. That's not possible, Ed.

You see, my partner's full of all sorts of useless information,

and he told methat two brown-eyed
people can have a blue-eyed child,

but two blue-eyed people, Ed... two blue-eyed
people can never have a brown-eyed child.

The boy in the picture was fathered
by someone, Ed, just not by you.

And I'm worried that his real dad wants to know where he is.

What happened to him?

Who's the child in the photo, Ed?

Ed?

I don't know who he is.

But I can show you where he's buried.

Two hours and not even a sniff.

Maybe he made this up too.

No, you weren't in that ditch. This wasn't a delusion.

It was real pain, real guilt.

Even if it's real, we might not be
within 100 miles of where he's buried.

Come on, Ed. Help us out.

You said you'd show me where Miles is buried.

I think we're closer than 100 miles.

What about the kid?

Still digging.

I hope he has some explanation for
those two bodies, 'cause right now...

I don't see anyone else who looks good for this crime.

You hear that, Ed?

Either you tell us how you knew where to find these bodies,

or they're going to blame you for killing them.

Ed. Ed! I don't get it.

I don't get it. I must've pushed him over the edge.

The guy's had a complete psychotic break.

No, I think you took him to the edge... closer
to reality than he's been in a long time,

and it's scaring the hell out of him.

So what do we do?

We've got to convince him that
it's okay to take that final leap.

Get him the rest of the way there.

Okay, ed.

It's pretty obvious you don't want
to tell me anymore about Miles.

And honestly, I don't know if that's because
you're afraid of what... what'll happen

when I found out the truth

or because you're afraid of what'll happen
when you admit the truth to yourself.

Either way, both of us know this fantasy
you've been living for the last few years

is unraveling in a big-ass hurry.

You can't go back, Ed.

There's nothing there.

Miles isn't there.

Okay, I'll tell you what...

tell me how it started.

Take me back to where it began,
and we'll walk out together.

Can you do that?

I was working in the truck yard.

After a shipment came in,

I started hearing these noises coming from this container.

I'm not supposed to open the containers.

And the noise stopped.

I got worried.

So I went against protocol.

When I looked inside, I found him.

Miles.

And two others.

One of them must've been his mother, 'cause...

she had that picture that I gave you in her coat.

The next night I...

I followed some yardmen to this field.

These guys weren't just smuggling cars out.

They're smuggling people in.

If I'd done something sooner...
Ed.

He'd still be alive.
No. We're all wired differently.

You did what you could.

I couldn't unsee their faces.

In my sleep, when I woke up, they
were with me everywhere I went.

Couldn't leave my apartment for two weeks.

I stopped eating.

I would've died if...

Miles hadn't come along.

He helped you cope.

Now you're gonna help him.

They found a blood clot. He's resting now.

Like "rest in peace" resting?

No, he's going to beall right.

You saved his life.
Really?

I don't even know who he is.

We had a translator come in. He's navajo.

Their tribal councilis sending someone.

Oh, okay. Okay.

Well, good, then.

Are you okay?

Me?

Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you.

By the way... means healing spirit.

That's me.

Interpol made several arrests this morning.

The men who worked the Bucharest side are in custody.

Apparently, the boy and his mother paid to
come to America, looking for a better life.

Instead they were lost in transit and all but forgotten.

What about Don and Frank and those guys?

The A.U.S.A. is filing human
trafficking charges and murder.

I really appreciate you pulling
strings to get me in this place.

Sure.

Yeah, but you didn't need to get me a two bedroom.

It was the only place I could find
with a decent view of the sky.

My doofus partner's got nine of these things.

I thought you'd appreciate the
loaner till your stuff got shipped out.

It's amazing what you can see when you open your eyes.

Howdy.

You're still here?
Yep.

I thought you'd be knee-deepin your
third session with Dr. Finkel by now.

Nope.

Come on, man. Don't make me fish.

We were knee-deepin a double latte.

She, regaling me with stories from her last year

of growth and liberation.

And then?

And then what's his name called.

The ex.
Don.

From what I could as certain, he was crying.

Well... you still got me, Ringo.

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