All language subtitles for CSI.Vegas.S01E07.WEBRip.x265-ION265e

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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