Original subtitles

(whistling tune)

What's that, Xavier, Mozart?

It's Tchaikovsky, boss.

Well, do me a favor, maestro, (phone ringing)

and tell requisitions we need a gross of four-inch gauze.

Copy that, boss.

(phone ringing)

(resumes whistling)

This is Dr. Franks.

Well, what do the regulations say?

The execution is going down on Friday.

I need to do my job dead on

with regulations...

MAN: The governor and the attorney general

both get a copy. I told you three times.

Man, big day coming up's even got the warden jumpy.

I'll be happy when it's over.

WOMAN: Tonight convicted murderer

Tim Slattery will be the first man

executed in the state of Connecticut

in the last 30 years.

In a moment, the prison will conduct

its first of two electrical checks tonight.

This is done to ensure enough current is generated

so the execution can be carried out

in the most efficient and humane way possible.

(electrical whirring)

MAN (over P.A.): Stand by for second round of current checks.

Stand by for second round of current checks.

(electrical crackling)

Fire!

(alarm blaring) Fire!

Get me out of here! I'm burning!

Open it up! My arm! Oh, my God, my arm!

OFFICER: What the hell, Price?

The current check-- made the sparks fly everywhere.

It still really feels like it's burning.

I'm going to give you a hit of morphine.

You'll feel warm for a few seconds,

then off to dreamland.

(grunts)

Enjoy dreamland.

(sighs)

CROWD: * Amazing grace *

* How sweet the sound *

* That saved a wretch like me... *

(humming tune)

Hey, I've got the perfect spot for your banner.

We can hang it on my van.

It's the red van right here.

No, really, we could...

Oh, my God.

(muffled cry)

(crowd continues singing)

Pele passes to Buena Vista,

and over to Burrito Grande.

Back to Shakira!

Is good! You know, Chee Hoon,

the irony is that on a real soccer field

you would smash my face into nothingness,

but here at the table

a man of superior intellect can read you

and spot your tells like a poker game.

You talk too much, snowflake. And you let your goalie drift to the left too much.

Is good!

I am the winner!

That's 35 clams.

You are the charter member of the No Joy, No Luck Club.

Round-eyed dick.

Doc. Hmm?

We got to go to our, uh... work release situation.

Oh, they need us again already?

No, no, no, look, not all of us, just you and me.

Philly got dropped like an A-bomb. What do you mean dropped?

Rumor from the women's wing is that she had money stashed away.

Checked her accounts from the prison computer lab.

Seems the Feds didn't seize all of Philly's assets.

Now her sweet ass-ets got sent back to maximum security--

courtesy of Charlie.

That sneaky, sneaky Amazon.

She almost blew this for us, Shea.

Listen, I cannot leave here.

They have games, they have basic cable TV.

This morning, I ate eggs that were only partially powdered.

(handcuffs clicking)

Think they'll replace her?

Uncuff 'em.

Raymond, I would just like to say that I was completely

unaware that Philly was hiding money.

I cannot attest to whether or not Shea knew, though.

What?! You might have.

If we thought you guys knew, you guys would still

be in a max house.

And since we assume that Philly was going to use the money

to fund a run, we doubled her sentence.

And you're lucky she actually didn't make a move,

or you guys would have been doubled up, too.

She's on her way back to Muncie right now.

She blew it.

Who the hell's that?

ZANCANELLI: That's Philly's replacement.

Same deal as the others.

As long as you're helping us catch fugitives

you get to finish your time in Maybelle Minimum Security.

For every convict we catch,

you get a month off your bid.

Xavier Price.

Respected family man, member of his church board,

steady job as a traveling salesman

of industrial machine parts.

Nothing out of the ordinary about him, right?

Till he killed her.

Felicia Webster.

Claims he saw a runaway in need of help.

Picked her up, was taking her to the shelter

when she tried to rob him with a knife at a red light.

In the struggle, she was killed.

A witness half a block away saw enough to call the cops.

But not enough to see what happened.

And his wife stood by his side

while the church paid his legal fees.

And they bought that garbage?

Homeboy was clearly trolling for ass.

Jury bought it, too.

Instead of first-degree murder,

they hit him with reckless homicide.

Five years. A nickel? Wish I had that jury.

You're black. You would have gotten murder.

The point is, we're not buying

this guy's snake oil. He's dangerous.

As evidenced by the doctor he assaulted,

the civilian he carjacked and murdered

during his escape.

Now we put an alarm out on his vehicle.

And it's 11 hours since he ran.

You guys know the stat.

Less than five percent chance

of capture after 72 hours.

So why run at all?

His prison record's clean.

He'd have gotten out in two and a half years.

Dude's stupid.

Actually, he's genius.

170 IQ.

170-- that is adorable. 210, muchachos. Just saying.

But while we're on the topic of how smart I am,

and ipso facto,

the expert psychological analysis I provide,

not to mention Shea's street-level gangsta knowledge

which radically comes in handy,

I need to ask, what is the new girl's super power?

Is it breast vision, you guys? Come on.

Does she have magic boobs? Because the last girl who was

in here almost queered the deal for us. I don't...

Hello. Hey.

JULIANNE: All I could find on Price's church.

All right, grab a file, get caught up.

Ray, let's take a look at this.

Greetings. I'm Lloyd Low...

Hi. Lloyd Lowery. Dr. Lloyd Lowery.

Kind of the brains of the operation.

I'm sorry, I'm trying to read. Okay.

So was I, though.

I was trying to read you.

And I was hoping to do it in somewhat of a congenial manner,

but since you don't seem very chatty

let me just cut to the chase.

You, me

and our Nubian brother over here--

our fates are intertwined. So if any one of us tries

to amscray, every one of us goes back to prison, sentences doubled.

So let's start again.

Tell me who you are,

so I know who I'm working with, please.

Breaking and entering, expert, okay?

Thank you.

That wasn't so hard, was it?

Look... it's really important that we play nice together, okay?

I'm new here.

And I need this to work.

You can understand that, can't you?

CHARLIE: Okay, so Xavier's church is connected throughout the world

through missionary work.

Africa, Nicaragua, El Salvador.

Jules, get me a list of their biggest donors,

if they have any private planes,

resources that they might use to help a man

they think is innocent flee the country.

This guy could have been chillin'

up in Connecticut in two years, but instead he goes to live in Nicaragua?

Nah. I'm telling you,

there's something pressing this guy to run.

Maybe family.

Two years is a long time when you have kids.

Maybe prison sucks ass. Don't over-analyze.

It's the first rule of psychiatry.

We're not going to know why the man did what he did until we

know the man himself. So we go talk to his wife.

Exactly.

I'm pretty sure Charlie was just about to say that,

but thanks for finishing his sentence.

(humming "1812 Overture")

(woman sobbing)

I'm back.

You see how many people have come here to support him?

My husband is a good man.

I've been in the car with him when he's picked up runaways.

Given them money, advice.

How about the protester he killed?

The prison doc?

You lock a peaceful dog

in a cage with vicious animals,

and when he finally gets out,

he snaps at someone

who might put him back in.

And then you blame the dog?

I hope you never find him.

He snapped that woman's head against the ground four times.

Erica, we got this. If you don't mind, those belong to Xavier.

He's been collecting them since he was ten.

He's a simple man, with simple interests.

Just nine months ago,

he took up art.

Would the man you're characterizing make such

serene and beautiful pieces?

Oh, that is certainly motel-worthy.

Lloyd.

(phone rings)

Hey, Jules.

ZANCANELLI: Okay, hold on.

Protester's van was spotted driving away from a clothing drop box

outside a church in Wilmington, Delaware--

a town on his sales route.

Okay, so he's out of his prison jumper.

But if he's trying to get out of the country,

why make a pit stop in Delaware?

There are drop boxes all over the place.

JULIANNE: I had the same question,

so I ran his name for any family

he might have in the area.

There is none.

But I got a hit on an old house

that Price bought for 14 grand

at a county auction just under a year ago.

He paid a tax lien in cash.

Texting you the address. Okay, thanks.

I thought you said Julianne was the best there was.

She should've had that information way sooner.

An all-cash deal registered

in some hick Delaware county 150 miles from here?

Guy could've had a swamp in Florida

or a ranch in Texas, for all we know.

Listen, all I'm saying is, Philly was a wash.

I don't want any more problems from the people that you chose.

(indistinct radio transmissions) CHARLIE: Hey!

U.S. Marshals. What happened here?

Someone torched the place.

Enough accelerant to burn half the state.

No one saw anybody

coming or going?

No. Nothing. What's this?

I don't know-- I haven't opened it yet.

Well, don't hurt yourself.

Will you give me that thing?

Melted plastic.

Do you have forensics on this? Yeah.

Look, pal, unless you're paying rent, get out of my space.

Oh, that was... that was clever.

Yeah? Was it? Mm-hmm. I liked it. I liked it a lot.

I like it a lot more than I like you, because you are a liar.

Hm, I'm not a liar. You were lying about breaking-and-entering,

otherwise you would've helped Charlie with that lock right there.

So why don't you just tell me what your deal is, please?

My deal is answering to Charlie, not some mouth-breather.

I have a deviated septum.

So, Price broke out, killed someone,

gone to a place he owns and burnt it to the ground?

What the hell's Xavier up to?

(woman sobbing)

Please...

let me go.

You... can't talk!

You have no voice.

A man should not be put in the position where he has

to waste perfectly good property.

(sobbing): I just want to go home.

You really think I care about what you want?

You always said I belonged to you,

but if you kill me...

Oh, you do.

Oh, you do.

You do belong to me.

And after I stop your last breath,

(sobbing) you'll belong to me forever. Okay?

Okay? (continues sobbing)

Put a rush on it, Nick-- the runner's been out

for 24 hours and we're still nowhere on this thing.

I'm assuming nothing from forensics about the footlocker?

Is the wife still clean?

We're tapping her phone;

we're checking her incoming

and outgoing mail. Xavier's too smart

to get tripped up on something like that.

Nothing on the church accounts. If they're moving money

to help Price flee, it's not showing up.

Julianne, check the property records

in every county and every state

where Xavier's sales route took him.

That's... hundreds of counties. Yes, and we have

a killer on the loose-- so if it's hundreds of counties,

then I suggest you get to work.

Hey, come here.

I requested you for this team because you're great

at what you do.

And you were number one in your class at Glynco

for a reason. Yeah, and they kicked me out for a reason, too.

(sighs)

It's just...

after Philly...

I'm afraid that I'm gonna get kicked out of something again.

That won't happen.

Charlie thinks you're doing a great job.

He told me that today.

And as long as I'm here,

you're not going anywhere.

Well, I better get back to work.

We need to catch this guy.

(cash register beeping, clacking)

(indistinct police radio transmission)

This is what he tried to steal?

Yeah, he switched stickers on me.

Tried to trick me into paying five bucks for a $30 maul.

But I wouldn't let go of it, so he smashed me in the face

with the handle and took off 'cause a customer came in.

Pulling a scam like this, Xavier's desperate, low on cash,

so where do you think he got the little money he already has?

Clothing drop he got his clothes from was

right next to a church; he might even

break into a poor box. I'll bet Erica can't.

You so much look at a screwdriver or nail, anything that you can use as a weapon,

and you get a one-way ticket to Philly.

To Philly? Oh, Philly, like Philly in prison.

Yeah. Yeah, that's cute, Ray. Cute.

All this stuff in here, why'd he

take this? Maybe he wanted

to go down swinging, literally.

What is he, Lizzie Borden?

If he wanted a weapon, he would've taken

a box cutter, a Sheetrock knife, something easy to conceal.

He didn't want a weapon; he wanted a tool... tool.

That's-that's rich. So, when you were a runner,

did you do a lot of home improvements? I was never a fugitive.

Okay, why is she on this team? Mind your business, Lloyd.

This is my business.

She was not a lock-pick; she was not a fugitive.

Is this affirmative action? 'Cause I got to tell you,

statistically, that does not work, Ray.

No offense, Shea.

You are cops, right?

Yes, we are, sir.

CHARLIE: Shut up, Lowery. All right, let's just break down

what we know already-- this guy's basically broke,

but he'd spend his last dollar on a wood splitter.

ZANCANELLI: And he ran on foot,

which means he's smart enough

not to use the protester's van

unless absolutely necessary.

So if he does have property around here, too,

he could get there from here.

Jules, still no real estate hits?

Uh, not under his name.

I've been trying something creative here.

Just give me another minute.

Yeah, sure. Take your time.

* *

See, this is how they do it.

They mesmerize you with the tuchis,

and then before you know it, they are on a team with no discernible skills.

Don't fall for it.

I'm just sneakin' a peek, bro.

Thought you guys liked those big, big booties.

Oh, we do, but lockup got me pent up,

so any narrow-ass port in a storm.

JULIANNE (over phone): I got something.

Been checking county auctions in Camden,

since that was Price's M.O. with his property in Wilmington.

There's a charity, ICR-- Inner City Reimagining--

fixes urban blight.

It bought an abandoned home at auction months ago.

The parent nonprofit for ICR

was Xavier's church,

and since Price was on the church's board,

he could sign all paperwork with nobody even knowing.

How far?

* *

ZANCANELLI: Protester's van.

I'll take the back; you take the front. I'm taking the back.

Nine times out of ten, perp runs out back.

That's why I'm taking the back.

Listen, it's not time to mark your territory.

I've got more field experience.

Good. Then take your field experience to the front.

* *

* *

Psst! It's barred from the inside.

He's barricaded himself in.

Not for long. Watch out.

Ready?

(woman screaming)

WOMAN: Let me go! Let me go!

I'm not gonna hurt you! I got her. He'll come back!

We're not gonna hurt you. We are officers. He'll come back!

He'll come back! We're not gonna hurt you.

He'll come back! You're safe.

He'll come back! We're not gonna hurt you.

He'll come... back.

Get a blanket from the truck immediately!

9 Mott Street in Camden. Do you confirm? Lowery!

Who the hell is that? Lowery! Help her! You're a doctor!

I haven't done hands-on medicine since rotations.

(crying) Can you tell me what happened?

This woman hasn't seen daylight in months.

What the hell is going on?

Jules, there's months of food in there.

The walls are soundproofed.

Give me Xavier's entire history, okay,

not just the criminal one. Thank you.

Sick bastard would go on sales trips,

visit his captive, then leave her in here for weeks.

She used this to barricade the door so he couldn't get in.

Erica was right-- he needed a tool to break in.

So much for the happily-married family man.

You know, the family and the church, they're all just props

to keep people from suspecting anything.

So what? All we've got to do is wait for him to come back here,

jump his crazy ass, and then, boom,

30 days closer to killing my number.

Local PD's already doing cross patrols.

There's roadways, alleyways, main streets.

He gets within three blocks of the light show outside,

he'll turn around and disappear.

I was working Ferry Street a few weeks ago.

He said he was a cop

and told me to get in the car.

He started beating on me.

And I woke up in the basement.

Ms. Duffy, the missing persons report

puts you gone at nine months ago.

Really?

CHARLIE: Did he ever mention

any places that he might go or visit?

No.

He just... hurt me.

Did he talk about any people that he might know

in other countries? No. He just hurt me.

MAN: Look, I said you could have

five minutes and I gave you ten.

I need to catch the man that did this.

And I need to treat this woman.

You do your job; let me do mine.

Please.

Let's go.

(sighs)

I hope you find the others.

Wait, what did you say?

Come on, enough already.

No, no, she just said she hopes...

she hopes we find the others.

Who? Where?

I don't... I don't know.

He said there were three of us.

He'd make us make recordings for each other.

Kept them in a lockbox.

The footlocker from the house in Wilmington.

He had other women, and the first place he went

was Wilmington?

Julianne, get on the phone with Wilmington PD.

Tell them to put a search party and rescue dogs

within a five-mile radius of the house

that he burned down in Wilmington.

He might've had women in there.

* *

Kelly Dezago.

Prostitute; strangled.

Dogs found her in a grave

three miles from the burned barn.

She was malnourished; her back molar was removed,

and not by a dentist-- she was tortured,

just like Jill Duffy. Why risk

taking her from the barn? If he wanted her dead,

why not leave her in the fire to sizzle?

It's not personal enough.

Personal? He didn't know these women.

They were from the street.

These crimes, ironically,

have nothing to do with these women.

Now, uh, Julianne

searched for anything on Xavier Price

prior to his criminal record.

It turns out, as a boy he was also

a guest of the state, but not as an inmate, as a ward.

Daddy wasn't around; he was in and out of social services,

'cause his mom liked to use his arm for an ashtray.

So, burns on the arm, he burns his arm

to break out, he burns down houses--

fire is a ritualistic purging for this man.

Now, what is he trying to purge?

Perhaps it is the memory of his mother

taking him to the supermarket

and leaving him there when he was nine.

He never saw her again.

So do you think this guy

has a few issues with women, or what?

JULIANNE: Just pulled a death certificate for his mother.

O.D.'d in a motel room 20 years ago.

She was a prostitute.

Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner.

So he tortures prostitutes 'cause he hates his mom?

No. I hate my mom; do I do these things?

Wouldn't surprise me. (whispers): How dare you.

Come on... All right, Xavier Price,

he was physically

and emotionally abused as a child,

and eventually he was abandoned.

He had no control.

He was at his mother's mercy.

Now, for most men who collect and torture women,

it's all about controlling them, having power over them.

Well... we saw his Hawaiian dolls.

Why not baseball cards?

Because thanks to his mom,

this guy needs the feeling of controlling women.

So I was right-- he did have something

pressing him to break out: his collection.

Yes. And he couldn't just let 'em die when the food

and water runs out, because that's nature

controlling them and not him.

And knowing his infamy ended his ability

to continue with these women, he moved on

to the ultimate form of control: taking someone's life.

And, Shea, that is why he

wouldn't let them burn in the fire--

'cause he needs it up close and personal,

hands around the neck, feeling the fear

so he can take that final act of control

with him forever. Okay, I'm done.

And incidentally, that is what

I bring to the table, miss.

Somebody could be that affected

by not having a mother? The one person

genetically designed to nurse you abandons you?

What do you think?

CHARLIE: Okay, so,

there were three women.

One was found dead,

one was found alive, and one is still out there.

Now, if we know Price, he's tired, he's strapped for cash,

but he's still gonna get to her.

Well, if we find out where she's being held,

he'll walk right into our arms.

If we don't, she'll die, and with nothing left

to keep him in the Northeast he could run anywhere.

Okay, Julianne, get me a breakdown of every single woman

that's gone missing within the last year,

uh, within a 20-mile radius

of Price's sales route. Okay.

That might take a bit. Julianne,

why is it that every single time I ask you

to do something you tell me how hard it is?

I just saw a woman whose nails had been torn out 'cause she

was clawing through a basement door.

She's doing the best she can.

Hey, why don't you mind your business, Ray?

She doesn't run this team; you run

this team. Step in my office.

Don't you ever call me out

in front of them like that again.

Don't you ever yell at Julianne like that.

You yell at your own girl.

Is this about Erica? You're pissed

because I put her on the team

without clearing it with you first?

You should've told me, Charlie.

With Erica's history,

what she's done-- she's a risk.

So what, bring Philly back? So she can run off

with her money and get this whole thing

shut down? This is my chance

to get my badge back-- not to mention,

this task force was my idea,

and I have the right to know if I'm working

with a girl with a spotty past

or some guy with a heart condition.

Yeah, I did my research-- the reason

you huff and puff like this big bad wolf...

is the same reason you've been chained to a desk

for all these years: bad ticker.

That's what killed your dad when he was your age.

Okay.

You know something about me,

I know something about you.

But unless you want the others to find out

that they're answering to a fellow convict,

I suggest you keep your mouth shut, Ray.

And I'll try my best not to let my...

"bad ticker"

interfere with your career advancement.

WOMAN: Oh, yeah, no holding back.

Let it go, let it go. (knocking)

MAN: Oh, shit! The cops!

Out of the car; hands on the roof.

Give me your wallet. Officer, come on.

How much money you go? It's my first time. My wife!

Your wife? Yeah.

Don't want your wife to know? No.

Get in the car and drive away.

Yes. Yes.

Where you going?!

Give me my money! This is some bullshit!

My man's been paying y'all to back off this block!

(spits) Hey, I'm talkin' to you!

Did you spit on me, bitch?

You're not a cop.

Give me my money.

(grunts)

Dirty...

whore.

Filthy... whore.

You're lucky I don't have time right now

to add you to my collection.

(vehicle approaching)

(gasping weakly)

What sets a guy like this off anyway?

I mean, he's had it out for his mom since he was a kid.

Why snap now? Well, could be a memory trigger,

an anniversary, anything.

It doesn't matter-- once the floodgates are open

you can't put the water back.

Employment record says he went

on six sales trips a year.

That means these women were locked up alone

two months at a time.

Two months, that's too long.

No shit, it's cruel.

No, I mean, it's too long for Xavier.

Somebody with his compulsion can't go that long

without exercising control over his collection.

Is there anything in there about, um, unscheduled visits,

excuses to visit clients?

Nope.

JULIANNE: Charlie.

Missing women for the past six months.

I know you said a year; I just wanted

to get you something to hold you over until I'm done.

Thanks, Julianne.

That's it, Julianne.

That is how he keeps his compulsion satisfied in between

trips to the women-- he needs something to hold him over.

Like a photo, a...

a driver's license, something personal

he keeps until he sees the women again.

We find that, we maybe find the third girl.

We need a search warrant.

MRS. PRICE: You-you can't just come in here.

Mrs. Price, we have a warrant.

Xavier isn't here. I have no idea

where my husband is, thanks to you people.

What are you doing?

My children are sleeping.

Whatever he kept, it won't be

so hard to get to he can't access it,

but it will be... will be hidden.

Ma'am, when did you say your husband

began making this horrendous art?

Nine months ago-- and go to hell.

Charlie, when did Jill Duffy go missing?

Nine months ago.

(yells) Those belong to me!

This belongs to Kelly Dezago.

What... what is that?

It's a woman's molar.

A little something to hold your husband over.

(gasps) Oh, please...

Jill Duffy's fingernails-- and she didn't lose 'em

trying to claw through that basement door.

What's going on?

Mrs. Price, your husband that you defend so much

has been kidnapping and keeping women.

And because he can't bear to be apart from them,

he's keeping little forget-me-nots

in your home. No.

N-No, you're wrong.

Human hair.

It's gotta belong to whoever

the third woman is.

If we run a DNA we might be able

to find out who she is, and we

use that to find out where she went missing.

And because he doesn't keep women

very far from wherever he takes them from,

that's exactly where he's headed next.

Lloyd, grab those. Let's go.

So, this many went missing

in just a few cities in only a year?

Prostitutes are easy targets.

There's probably more we don't know about.

Okay, so, I just got the DNA reports e-mailed to me,

but because there are no databases for solicitation,

then we got to narrow it down.

Says here that it belonged to a black woman.

(mumbles)

Not her.

Hold on, you're not gonna take that one down,

are you, chief?

She's Mexican.

Last name: Gonzalez.

She's got... physical characteristics

that indicate African heritage-- so just...

Really? Like what?

(whispers): You gonna make me say it? Shea.

Big lips?

See, I don't like working with this racist, Ray.

I already said, I am not a racist, I am a fact-ist.

Your hair is curlier than mine.

Your lips are fuller than mine.

I don't even want to get into what's in our pants.

All right, shut up.

What else you got?

Said that she was at least 30.

So that takes out the majority of them.

Most girls don't make it past 30 in that life.

That leaves ten, covering almost every city

in Price's sales route-- doesn't really help us,

now, does it?

Could be her.

Every collector likes

the unique piece, you know.

Buffalo nickel, so to speak.

If a black prostitute

with bright green peepers crossed Xavier's path

when he was on the prowl, he'd totally pick her.

Or I could be totally wrong, and we are now

wasting our time focusing on a geographic location

based on someone's eye color. Damn it. (beeping)

E-mail from forensics.

They sent a file.

They were able to salvage

a bit of video from Xavier's footlocker.

(woman sobbing quietly)

XAVIER: You scared?

WOMAN: Yes.

XAVIER: Say hello to the others.

(woman sniffles)

WOMAN: Hello.

It's too dark; I can't see her face.

WOMAN: Wh-Why are you doing this?

ERICA: Okay, we've seen enough.

(audio rewinding)

Really don't need to see this again.

Listen, in the background, after he talks.

(Xavier chuckles, woman sobbing)

(whistle blowing in distance) Hear that?

ZANCANELLI: Listen again.

(whistle blowing) That right there,

that's a train whistle.

But there were no trains

near the house that burned down

or the basement where we found Jill Duffy. Then this is

the third woman-- this woman right here,

this is where he's going.

Outside of cities, federal regulations

don't allow trains to run that close to residential areas.

Thank you.

You know, there's a manhunt

going on right now, and we're all trying

to get some time off our sentences. Get lost.

I don't understand.

You... you're taking a break from catching a killer

to stare out the window...

Carlton Hicks motion.

Dr. Hicks studied women who lost children from either death

or separation and found that when around other children

they instinctively reached for their stomachs.

Give it a rest, okay? More specifically, the uterus.

And you just did that, staring at that woman

with her baby across the street.

You don't know what you're talking about.

That is why you were asking about the absentee mothers.

Oh, my God, now you make sense to me.

The emotional dissemblance,

the guarded behavior, general bitchiness...

I am warning you. You miss your kid.

(grunts)

Oh! Hey!

What the hell's wrong with you!

What's the problem! He kept riding me!

I want her prosecuted! He's a pain in the ass

to everyone, but you don't attack the guy!

Cool off! And, Lloyd, I know

you provoked it! I have a deviated septum!

JULIANNE: I-I think I found something.

Okay, two years ago,

a commuter line was given a zoning ordinance

to run tracks just 30 yards from the backs of homes

on a... a rundown street in Airdale, New York,

just off of Price's sales route.

30 yards is more than close enough

to hear a train through soundproof walls.

Yeah, I searched the property records.

There's eight homes on the street, all bank-owned.

That's where he's got to be.

Shea, get Lloyd.

Tell Ray I'll be outside in a minute, all right?

(sighs)

Charlie, are you serious?

Not a step out of line, I told you.

Let's go!

Thanks.

I really messed this up, didn't I?

Do you know what it's like to have something inside of you

that you just can't control?

At times.

(humming quietly)

(sighs)

I know-- I'm sad, too.

* *

U.S. Marshals!

U.S. Marshals!

We checked every house, Jules; he's not here.

Where the hell is he?

I'm telling you, Ray, that is the only street

that is close to the tracks.

I mean, I can hear the whistle

moving past you right now.

Julianne, they're in the wrong town.

What? Why? What's going on?

Erica thinks

that you're in the wrong town.

No, I-I know he is. Just... just check to see

if there's any power plants, a factory,

something like that along Price's sales route.

What's she talking about? No... okay, just do it!

Jules, what the hell are you doing?

We don't have time to screw around.

I-I-I don't know.

I'm looking for...

What am I looking for? Um...

Okay, there is

a refinery in Sloan, New Jersey, that, um...

That was on Price's route.

Let me talk to Ray.

Ray, you're in the wrong town.

I heard the theory; tell me why.

Okay, Julianne said she could hear the train

going "past you"-- train whistles, car horns,

they're loud when they're close, and then they fade

as they go past.

That whistle in the video, it-it was steady,

it didn't change-- it's not a train.

Then what the hell was it? There's a refinery

in Sloan, New Jersey. It's about 30 minutes from where you are right now.

I've been near there, and there's an industrial whistle.

JULIANNE: Okay, Ray, I've got an article here.

It says, due to health concerns,

six homes on the block right behind the facility

were bought by the refinery three years ago.

They're all vacant.

Were any of the missing women left on that wall

last seen in Sloan?

Lloyd was right.

It's her.

(sobbing)

Mmm, look at you.

Almost worth keeping you around.

(crying): No...

Stop! U.S. Marshal!

Let her go, Price!

Help!

Come near and I'll kill you!

You see a weapon? I couldn't tell.

CHARLIE: He lit the house!

I assume you want the back.

CHARLIE: Hey!

Andrea!

CHARLIE: Ray, I got the girl! You go get Price.

I think he went upstairs. Get her out of here, Charlie.

You don't have long.

Lloyd, I need a hand!

Don't move, scumbag.

Let me see your hands. CHARLIE: Get out, Ray!

CHARLIE: We got the girl! We got to go!

Come on, Ray, let's go! Come on!

ZANCANELLI: Walk towards me, slowly.

(loud clattering, glass shattering)

No way out, officer, the staircase is gone.

Mother used fire to punish me,

now I'm gonna use it to not get punished.

I die here.

No prison, no confinement.

It just ends.

You ain't getting off that easy.

Yeah, I am.

'Cause now there's no way out.

I wouldn't be so sure.

(grunts)

(grunts)

Yo, Ray!

Ray!

(coughing)

Shea! Move out of the way!

I'm gonna use that jerk-off

to break my fall!

Andrea, he can't hurt you anymore, all right?

You're gonna be just fine.

Can I talk to him for a minute?

When I leave here, I'm calling the D.O.C. and make sure

that they have a psych eval awaiting your arrival.

Within five minutes, they'll mark you J-Cat,

which means you'll spend the rest of your life

in solitary confinement.

No rec time, no visitation.

Just 23 and a half hours a day spent in a dark room

with no light coming in

except from a six-inch slot in your door.

The hours will seem like days; the days will feel like years.

You'll lose all concept of time, and eventually,

you're gonna lose your mind.

You're gonna feel what you did to those women,

Xavier...

only you're gonna experience it for the rest of your life.

So you better enjoy

the sunlight on your way back to prison.

* *

...and my neck's sore and my shoulder hurts.

Because, Mother, she is deceptively strong

and... wiry.

(quietly): Look, I-I can't talk about this right now.

I love... I love you, okay? Bye.

Ride's waiting downstairs, ladies.

Speaking of ladies--

and I use the term so, so loosely--

I'm not riding back with the animal that attacked me.

SHEA: Normally, I would side

with anybody who kicks this dude's ass,

but I'm trying to get time shaved off my bid,

not work with somebody who can't control their business.

Hells, yeah. CHARLIE: Guys, let's just

settle down, all right?

I'm settled, Charlie.

I'm settled on the fact that the people

we're running after are gonna attack us,

but not one of our own; I'm not gonna do that.

Ray, talk to you for a second? Yeah.

Close that door.

All right, what do you want to do

about Erica? Wouldn't have

caught Price without her, but Lloyd

brings up a good point-- she's got issues.

That's what I been saying. What about if

she lost it like that out in the field?

She's a suspect in five murders, Charlie.

That's not a joke. Look, Ray,

the whole story isn't in her file, okay?

Erica was raised by her father,

who was a bounty hunter, and a damn good one.

By the time this girl was 12,

she could track better than most U.S. Marshals can.

The file said her dad's deceased.

He was killed by some thugs

that worked for the gangbanger skip

her father caught.

They tortured him for days

and then they dumped him in some weeds.

And the guys she killed?

Five of the six guys

that murdered her father.

She was barely 20.

She tracked these guys down

for years with every law enforcement

agency on her back, and when

they finally caught her, all they could

pin on her were weapons charges.

She didn't leave a clue.

Except the five slash marks on her arm.

Why didn't you tell me this before?

Because you are not my partner, Ray.

But I do respect your opinion and your experience.

So what do you want to do?

I know all about you.

Your mom was a drunk

and a half a whore.

Your dad got popped, 'cause he wasn't smart enough

to avoid who wanted him dead.

And now, because of your crimes,

you lost your daughter, and thank God for that!

She'll be better off raised by wolves.

You want to smash my face?

There are rules here.

You want to be part of this team?!

Huh?

This is the control

you have to show.

You want to be with your daughter before she grows up,

you keep your powder dry.

You can't,

you're out.

I never had a real mother.

My father was murdered, and my daughter was taken from me.

I am angry.

But I can do this.

I need this.

Van to Maybelle's waiting.

Go ahead.

(barks)