Original subtitles

All units. Be advised. Shooter still at large.

- Oh, no! - We got to get out of here.

Advertise your product or brand here contact www.OpenSubtitles.org today

Sir, first reports of the campus shooting

came in 22 minutes ago.

So far, we only have one victim,

a professor in the Media Arts building,

about 300 yards north of where we're standing.

Lieutenant, every exit was secured within five minutes,

which means the gunman had enough time to get away.

- Or hide. - Luckily, yesterday was the last day of exams,

- so the campus was mostly empty. - Any eyewitnesses?

Well, a young woman on her way to the victim's office

saw the shooter walk past her, sir.

She's on her way downtown.

I've got my people evacuating the grounds

and gathering surveillance video from every camera on campus.

- Why don't you take him in? - You got it.

The crime scene is all yours.

Thank you, Chief.

I hope you find the son of a bitch.

- Did they catch the guy? - Let's go. Let's go.

Keep moving. Keep moving.

Synced by emmasan www.addic7ed.com

I never saw a dead body before.

Listen. We know how upsetting this is.

But we really need your help.

Holly, the information you share with us right now

could keep another student or teacher from being shot.

Okay, now, you knew the victim how?

He was one of my professors.

He was teaching a screenwriting class

called "the Camera and the Story."

What do you got there, Sykes?

Wallet, keys, cellphone.

Well, doesn't seem like robbery is the motive.

Of course, in school shootings, it never is.

I finished editing my short film

early this morning,

and I took it straight to Professor Ashby's office.

You had to bring it to him?

- You couldn't e-mail it? - I was late.

And Professor Ashby said

if we missed the deadline last night,

we had to bring our film on a flash drive in person

- before 10:00 A.M. - Okay, okay. You're up all night,

and you're walking down the hall.

And... and... and I saw this man

leaving the professor's office with his phone up, filming.

Merry Christmas.

He even smiled at me and said, "Merry Christmas."

Holly, this man...

Do you recognize him from class or from campus?

- No. - Was he older or younger?

Older. Maybe 30s?

Two 9-millimeter casings.

And two 9-millimeter bullets...

One here in the chair

and another up here in the ceiling.

- Buzz. - Got it.

And he filmed me.

He knows who I am! What if he comes after me?

Holly, Holly, listen to me.

If he wanted to hurt you,

he would've shot you then and there.

Oh, my god. I don't understand.

Okay. What happened, Mike?

Since the bullet went through

the victim's head and the computer,

I think Professor Ashby and the killer

may have been watching something on the monitor

when the shot was fired.

Like what?

Well, the bullet missed the hard drive,

so let me see if I can pull something up.

Does it seem as if I've made a rash decision here?

I-I-I see that you're upset.

And I-I will do whatever I can to make this right,

but I-I swear, I don't remember you.

- What am I watching here? - Y-you don't...

You know what Godard said.

You don't have to kill me, please.

"A story should have a beginning, a middle,

- and an end." - There must be something I can do. Is it money?

- I-I will... I will give you... - "But not necessarily in that order."

- I will do whatever you ask. - Take a look at the picture.

Please don't do this.

Tell me where you think I am in the narrative.

I'm a mother.

Wow.

And that was with no real direction.

It felt really... raw.

I'm finding it's the best way to work with non-actors.

Just let them do what they do.

Whoa! Keep moving, guys!

I can't believe all these cops!

Free production value everywhere. Awesome!

They think it's a school shooting.

All right. Let me play this back.

Maybe I don't need another take.

Actually, I'm good.

New deal.

Moving on.

Okay, Holly, if you see the guy

who wished you a merry Christmas,

I'll be right out there, okay?

- Thank you, Lieutenant. - Sure thing, kid.

This doesn't sound like

an ordinary school shooting to me.

Well, you may be right, ma'am.

Ballistics matched the casing from the victim's office

to another murder.

Lisa Green, 52-year-old realtor,

shot in a mansion on Hillcrest

she was supposedly

showing to a buyer she'd been working with.

I got the victim's hard drive up and running.

You sure you want to see this?

A wine cellar.

Keeps 300 bottles of wine exactly...

Ashby's computer was playing this video,

copied to a flash drive,

when the killer shot him in the head.

It starts out innocently enough.

Realtor walking her prospect through this high-end property.

We'll analyze this video more carefully later on, but...

Mike, is this headed where I think it's headed?

I'm afraid so, Andy.

Buzz, fast-forward.

Right there.

- That you want. - Do I look familiar to you at all?

- Um... - That's our other victim.

- I'll be honest, I don't feel like I know you. - Lisa Green.

I'm not very good with faces sometimes.

- I apologize. - You should, yeah.

Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I don't remember.

You sure you don't remember me?

Can you just take a minute to think this through?

Does it look like a minute would make a difference?

Does it seem as if I've made a rash decision here?

Look, if I just knew your name, I could apologize to you.

You never remembered it anyway!

In fact, I am shocked to hear you're a mother

because you were always so bad at follow-through.

Look, just tell me your name.

- Maybe then I could do something... - Sorry. Stop for a second.

If you could just take a little step forward.

We're getting a shadow on your face.

Perfect. Now, if you could say...

"Please, please don't shoot me."

Please.

Please don't shoot me.

He filmed the murder.

Why would someone want to do that?

Have I arrived or what?!

Whoo! Look at that ocean view.

Infinity pool with attached hot tub.

This is exactly the kind of house

I imagined every Hollywood hack lived in.

Look at it.

It's gross.

Lots of greenery.

No evidence of the drought here.

Now let me take you to interior mansion day.

Well, everyone needs a dining table for 12!

Other must-haves include

a faux-stone fireplace for those hot summer nights,

lots of overstuffed pillows everywhere,

and a massive 4K TV.

To the kitchen.

Hmm. Here we have generic art.

How about them apples?

A viking stove designed as a cabinet,

a backup viking fridge, if you have backup-fridge money,

walk-in pantry for the help,

and a... Wolf stove.

Nice.

What a grubby, blood-sucking town.

And... cut!

Remember how expensive we used to think it would be to make a movie?

Now, I can do it all with this.

It barely put a dent in my, uh...

Let's call it inheritance?

Oh, Ryan!

I can't wait for you to see this movie I've been shooting.

And this, I promise,

the part I've designed for you

is gonna make you a star.

The clerk will now read the jury's decision.

We, the people, in the case of

the State of California versus Gregory Rasenick,

having found the defendant

guilty of murder in the first degree,

sentence him...

to death.

The clerk has recorded the jury's verdict.

I thank them for their time, and they are now dismissed.

I'll review this case,

and we'll meet again next Monday to...

Your Honor, we waive the review period.

Oh, no, you don't, Mr. Monroe.

The last time I waived review at your request,

you used it to appeal.

I have a week to decide

whether to void the jury's sentence,

and I'm taking it.

We'll be back next Monday.

Court is adjourned.

Slider won't get a lighter sentence, will he?

Uh, uh, no, no, no, no. Um...

I looked it up.

Uh, Judge Grove never vacates death penalty verdicts.

But this...

Gus, this... this case won't be over next week.

Bobby Monroe will file appeal after appeal.

Well, I can wait it out.

For Mariana.

Well, uh...

See you next week.

Uh, Gus, wait. Wait.

Um, you know, I'm out of class right now

for the holidays.

So, w-would you want to have... lunch?

Wow.

Um, I'm sorry.

I have... I have somewhere else to be this afternoon.

Oh. Yeah.

But, ah, um, also, um...

There's going to be a Christmas party

at my mom's office tomorrow at 7:00.

And, um, if you'd like to come,

I'm sure that...

that everyone would be really glad to see you.

Everyone? Hmm.

Well, I'd hate to disappoint people,

but I'm not feeling that Christmasy.

Holly Riggs confirms that this is the guy

she saw leaving Ashby's office.

Has the facial recognition software

provided a match yet?

Not in the California criminal database,

so I expanded the search to Nevada, Utah, Oregon.

I've put the husband of our dead realtor

in Interview One with Julio.

And I mirandized him because it's...

Always the husband.

I'm not so sure about that this time.

Mm. Let's circulate the photographs of our suspect

to local law enforcement, the families of our victims,

and university faculty.

You know, it doesn't appear that

there's a lot of common ground

between Lisa Green and Jeff Ashby.

What about this house-hunting overlap here?

Ashby's wife told us their house is for sale.

Aha! So the comely realtor and the dweeby professor

get the hots for each other

and end up in more than a property transaction.

Except Lisa Green handled premiere estates...

$5 million and above.

And there's no record that Ashby was dealing with her.

Lots of people don't keep records

of their affairs, Sykes.

Lisa Green's husband may provide us with information

- that we don't see here. - Yeah.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around

why anyone would hurt her,

much less shoot her in the face.

She never cheated anyone.

She never undersold a client or oversold a buyer.

Was your wife popular at work, sir?

Very.

She led the firm in sales.

What she couldn't handle she gave to other agents.

Andy, could you verify that, please?

Do you recognize this man?

No. I don't recognize him.

How about this guy?

Never seen him before, either.

Who is he?

He was murdered by the same man

who shot your wife.

And he was also selling his house.

Ashby.

I don't remember the name.

So is there a chance she offended

- the buyer she was with? - No, no, no, no, no.

She was very used to high-maintenance types...

Venture capitalists, movie stars, agents.

After 15 years in the business, she knew what they expect...

But, sir, didn't you just say

your wife had only been working in real estate

for the past five years?

Yeah, no. I meant "the business,"

as in Hollywood.

Before she sold homes,

Lisa was a literary manager for screenwriters.

Why the career change?

Mike, is it possible that talent reps

might sift through students

- for potential clients? - Absolutely.

A writer's assistant on "Badge"

was hired right out of film school.

"Badge." Now it's just "Badge"?

Writers are a bunch of nervous, high-strung,

self-hating crazies,

calling all hours of the day or night,

wanting to read their stuff over the phone.

But she never mentioned threats of violence.

Could we see your wife's old client list?

- Do you know where it is? - Yeah. Sure. It's...

It's on my phone.

We both synched our contacts to the same computer.

Broken into groups.

The literary clients

are under the heading "My Asylum."

It was her little joke.

Watch this.

And I-I will do whatever I can to make this right,

but I-I swear I don't remember you.

- You took his classes, too, right? - Mm-hmm.

- Before you dropped out. - You don't have to kill me, please.

Do you remember how

he always used to pontificate about composition...

Foreground, midground, background,

the circle of confusion, film versus digital.

He was always so sure of himself.

Well, watch this.

I'm a mother.

Aah!

Yeah, he's no Daniel Day-Lewis, of course,

but you see, I was right and he was wrong.

The writer tells the story, and the picture documents it.

- To mom. - Merry Christmas.

Who always believed in me

even after Ashby gave me an "F"

for contradicting "the language of cinema."

Worst thesis adviser ever.

Free production value everywhere.

Awesome!

Ah!

Mom got me hooked on these last year.

Oh, right, but you wouldn't know that

because I gave up my work to take care of her

and you never even stopped by to see how she was!

I'm not saying that pictures don't have a place...

Oh, forget about that girl in the hallway.

I only held my phone up and said Merry Christmas

so it would be harder for her to see my face.

Maybe she'll be in the deleted scenes.

It's the... It's the racing police cars

that really give you a sense of urgency.

Chopsticks, chopsticks, chopsticks.

What's wrong with you, Ryan?

- Ow! - Do you want to go back in the closet?

No, Brad. No. B-b-b-but listen to me.

I-I-Ican help you get away.

- I can help you with cash and with... - Get away?

Why would I want to... Ryan!

This is gonna be one of the most important films in history.

It's gonna... it's gonna show up all those people

who thought we never had what it took to succeed!

Now, after all that I've done here,

- are you really gonna disappoint me again?! - No, Brad!

No! No! Please!

You better not be lying!

Okay...

This is everyone still alive

from Lisa Green's old client list.

We cross-referenced them against

a roster of undergraduate and MFA candidates

attending the film school since 1995.

Over the years, ma'am, Lisa Green repped five people

affiliated with their program... Three of them men.

I looked up their photo I.D.s

taken at the time of admission.

I found current images of two of them

on social media.

Here they are.

And the third is Brad Powell.

If he had lost a lot of weight, grown a beard...

Let's check his last-known residence.

Brad Powell's mom owns this house, Tao.

She's in her 70s.

Time for a welfare check?

L.A.P.D. Anybody home?

Okay. I'm concerned for her safety.

Hello? L.A.P.D.

Hello?

Quite a film collection.

Replenasure. Therapeutic nutrition.

Tao!

- Yeah? - Check this out.

Duct tape. That's never a good sign.

TV?

Ugh!

Well, she had a couple insurance policies.

I think we're in the right place.

You got me to say things about myself I never told nobody.

I was putting your story on...

Was that because, in your little homo brain,

you thought, when I got out, maybe I'd give you a thrill?

Oh! I like girls.

You're close, but unh-unh. Forget it.

That is never what I wanted.

Well, maybe you just hustle people.

Drop 'em after you get what you need.

Like you did to Alice's brother.

- I didn't do that to Gus. - You didn't?

Well, you did it to me, you little bitch.

- I think you wanted to get up. - Yeah.

Are you okay?

Uh...

Mostly.

So, don't forget about the Christmas party tonight.

- I won't. - Okay. Right.

I know it feels creepy,

and it looks like something out of a horror show,

but after reviewing the last three years

of this woman's medical records,

I am fairly certain that the cause of death

was metastatic breast cancer.

No possibility of murder?

With this kind of decay, it is tough to determine.

But I can tell you,

she wasn't strangled, beaten, or shot.

That's it?

Sorry.

This is what happens when you put off

seeing your pathologist for a few months.

Brad Powell has a younger brother, Ryan,

who we're trying to locate.

Recently separated from his wife.

Was not at the temporary address she had for him.

- Does he have a phone? - It's offline.

And he drives an older model Jeep,

so there's no remote tracking, like onstar.

Mom's dead for months, both brothers are missing.

- I don't like it. - Me either.

I wonder...

Where is Ryan Powell's wife?

You know, I can't stay long.

I don't know what I could tell you anyway.

What do you think happened to Ryan?

Um, we don't know.

But we're trying very hard to locate both brothers.

You're looking for Ryan and Brad?

Yes. Why is that surprising?

Because they haven't had anything to do with each other

since before Ryan and I met four years ago.

I am pretty sure that's the one thing

Ryan didn't lie about.

The dishonesty I have dealt with...

You have no idea.

When was the last time you saw

or spoke to your husband, Ms. Powell?

We went to divorce mediation together two weeks back.

And we were supposed to meet again three days ago,

but Ryan blew it off.

- You know why? - He hasn't returned my messages,

but I am pretty sure

he's still pissed about the whole car swap.

Car swap?

Ryan's pride and joy is a cherry red 1994 Cherokee.

My car is a 2014 Lexus ES.

And because I haul things for my catering business,

the mediator thought I should get the Jeep,

Ryan should get my almost brand-new car.

Chief Howard, that Lexus has remote-tracking capability.

I'll get airships on it right now.

That's if he's still driving the car.

Or if he's dead in the trunk.

I should go with.

Not according to your doctor.

Okay.

Okay.

Don't.

- Brad, where are you taking me? - Shh!

Thanks for calling back.

3:00 P.M. is perfect.

You know the address, so I'll see you then.

Remember when we used to talk structure?

Back when we were gonna be the Powell brothers?

Now, I'm still a terrible driver,

so better buckle up.

We always said the perfect ending

had to be both surprising and inevitable.

I want you to be both shocked by the horror

but anticipating it, too.

So, to keep you from peeking...

See?

There's duct tape on the inside.

All production problems

boil down to proper preparation.

Especially when you're on a one-take budget, like us.

I found these upstairs...

The same kind that Richard Gere wears.

Take my word for it.

I look awesome.

This is Air 10, Major Crimes.

Be advised. Your Lexus is back online

and heading towards west Hollywood.

Hey, Ray Charles, is that too tight?

I don't want you losing any fingers.

I'm okay.

Actually...

Now that we're back in the process again,

it's kind of making me wish

I could be a part of editing it all together.

Not that I'd want to take any credit,

but, uh... You were right.

This is... it is exactly what we always dreamed of.

And you somehow found the courage to follow through.

Of course, I can see from what you have showed me

how... how it all strings together.

So specific.

I don't know. Maybe I'm useless.

Still, to see the whole thing

and to temp the score! Dude! Oh!

Do you remember how well I would temp our movies?

Do you really mean that, Ryan?

Yeah.

Of course I mean it.

I always meant it.

I just couldn't figure out how we'd get started.

I should have known you'd find a way.

Air 12 has eyes on suspect vehicle

moving westbound on Santa Monica Boulevard.

- Heading west on Olympic, approaching Robertson. - Roger that.

We're on Pico, nearing Fairfax.

Okay.

Okay. You're right.

This is our... our... our one shot

to make something meaningful and... and profound.

Change of plans.

I just have one little errand to run

and then I'm taking you back to the house.

Sit tight, Ryan.

The Powell brothers are back in the game!

Yeah!

Whoo!

Suspect's car has pulled into a gas station

in the 11,000 block of Santa Monica Boulevard.

30-second ETA.

Suspect is speeding westbound on Santa Monica.

Go. Go.

Lexus, L.A.P.D.

Move over to the right!

I repeat, over to the right now!

Driver, out with your hands up!

I repeat... out of the vehicle with your hands up now!

Please don't shoot!

Don't shoot!

Please!

What the hell?

Liar.

Always a liar.

Please, please.

Hey, that's my car! That's my car!

Okay, this is the moment when Brad Powell stepped away

and Ryan Powell commandeered the car.

Then he goes back, grabs the gas can he filled,

and steals a vehicle.

Brad Powell escaped with a gas can?

We alerted the Los Angeles Fire Department

to direct any arson calls to us.

And we put a want out on the car that he stole,

a Mazda S.U.V., ma'am.

Captain, we've shown Ryan

all of Lisa Green's listings

within 10 miles of the gas station.

- No dice. - What about the clients

who don't want their house on the market publicly?

Mm. Pocket listings.

- She probably had a few of those. - Right.

Ryan, I never asked

what caused the split with your brother.

Brad had talent, and he wanted to be a director.

But if anyone criticized him, he could lose it.

By the time I got into film school,

everyone hated him so much

that the idea that we were going to be

the next great team of director brothers

just seemed...

It was impossible.

And I dropped out, I got married...

Too fast, maybe...

And, uh... Brad never forgave me.

So this killing spree that your brother's been on

is part of his "great filmmaker dream?"

He kept calling it "our breakout project."

But really it was just his way

of getting even with everyone

he felt had ruined his life.

His literary manager,

who stopped returning his calls,

his thesis advisor, me.

I-I tried talking him down, and it just got crazier.

Is there anyone else who disappointed him?

Not anyone.Everyone.

If you're looking for one person in particular,

I wouldn't know.

Excuse me.

Lisa Green's office had one property,

owned by some Sheikh in Dubai,

that wasn't put into the system.

This is a picture of the living room.

Oh, my god.

That's it.

I-I-I recognize the fireplace.

That's the house.

I thought I'd be more nervous.

The big scene!

The climax!

3:00 P.M. Just a second!

I love it when actors

pay attention to their call times.

It sucks Ryan's not here.

I mean, I don't care, really,

but now I am doing him a favor, which was not my intention.

Okay.

And...

Action!

Sara?

- Yes. Are you Jack? - I am.

Thank you for coming on such short notice.

Um...

I promised my wife I'd film our consult.

It's really her party, and she has to know everything.

You don't mind?

Sure. Go ahead.

All right, there's no sign of the Mazda,

but, Sykes, Sykes, see that Jeep down there?

Captain, Powell has a guest.

- His brother's soon-to-be ex-wife. - Sara?

She said she's never met him.

Well, maybe he's intending to make up for lost time.

- Is she helping him? - No.

Brad is killing people

who stood in the way of his dream.

He's loony-tunes enough to think his brother's wife

- broke up the band? - That has to be it.

Lieutenant Provenza,

I'm sending S.W.A.T. to you,

but we can't wait for them.

Already vested, ready to go.

Are we sure that Jeep

belongs to the brother's soon-to-be ex-wife?

We have to proceed under that assumption, yes.

All our body-cams are up and running...

- Now. - Good. Thank you, Buzz.

- Lieutenant Provenza, are you ready to move? - Yes, Captain.

Okay, Sykes, there's only one door up here. I've got it covered.

Go to the back

and give Julio and Mike a hand, please.

I need to risk calling Sara.

Think she still has access to her cellphone?

I'm about to find out.

I'd probably set up a second banquet table

inside the entryway.

And do you really think you can make this all happen

- for New Year's? - Piece of cake.

I've put together much bigger parties in less time.

And I shine under pressure.

Yeah.

Do you need to get that?

Huh? No, I'll let it go to voicemail.

Hi. You've reached parties by Sara. Leave a...

Guys, S.W.A.T. and rescue teams

are about six minutes out.

Come on, Sara, answer me.

A sit-down dinner is impressive,

but I'd recommend a more relaxed, buffet presentation

- for New Year's Eve. - Ah, sorry. Uh, I had to cut.

- And I want to change the frame here. - Okay.

So would you mind taking it back a little

to the, um, head count part?

Oh. Yeah. Not at all.

Um...

So, as I was saying,

100 guests would def...

Sorry.

I can't shut it off entirely.

So many holiday parties.

Before you answer it, if you don't mind,

if you could you stand here with your back to the door?

- I'm having a composition issue. - Parties by Sara. Hello.

Sara, this is captain Sharon Raydor of the L.A.P.D.

I don't have time to explain,

so I need you to listen very carefully

and answer my questions

as simply as possible.

Do you understand?

- Yes. - Good.

- Are you alone? - No. Sorry.

The man who is with you,

does he appear to be carrying a gun?

I couldn't say.

Why?

Is everything okay?

It's my sous-chef,

wanting to know when I'll be back at the kitchen.

Good, Sara.

Tell him that your reception is bad

and you need to take the call outside.

Hello?

Hello? Hello?

I'm losing her.

Uh, hold on. I'll be right back.

Go, Provenza.

Who the hell?

Sara.

- We've got Sara. She's unharmed. - Oh, good.

Well, there's a plot twist.

Okay, well...

Sometimes the best plan is the one you burn down.

Captain, Sara says Brad

is definitely in the house, filming everything,

and she didn't see another hostage.

Stay away from the windows and doors.

Do not engage unless he tries to escape.

Sorry, ma'am. Here he comes.

Suspect has moved onto the patio,

- and he's soaking wet. - I smell gasoline.

Holy god.

- Is he armed? - He's got something in his other hand.

- Take it easy, bud! - Keep talking! This is all great stuff.

Come on, pal. Let's have a seat.

I have places to go.

Hey! I work in film, too.

He's carrying a lighter. Be careful.

No one dies taking this guy down.

So you probably know how important it is

to keep everyone safe during a stunt.

Stand back!

Seriously!

Because this is my big finish.

I am about to demonstrate

what commitment to your vision really looks like!

Aah!

My phone!

You idiot!

My phone! My phone!

You've ruined it!

No! My phone!

Fire's out.

You had to stop him.

So now the State has to spend millions of dollars

to do what the jerk was ready to do himself.

You're just mad you didn't get to

push him in the pool yourself, Sykes.

A little.

So, did you ask me to this party

as your date or not?

Look, Gus.

I've thought this out and we just...

There's too many hurdles.

Like?

Like, I live in L.A.

You live in Vegas.

I'm moving here.

I got a job starting next week.

That's why I couldn't have lunch with you today.

Wait. You're moving here?

- Not because of me. - No. No, because of Paloma.

In case her foster family ever decides I can visit her.

Okay, well, also... Also, you know, right now,

I have to focus on college.

I got benefits.

Maybe I'll go to college, too, one day.

What, you got something against working people?

I have no idea how to date anyone.

No one likes dating.

That's the best thing about this whole situation.

We already know each other.

It gives us a big edge.

And what if it doesn't work out?

We'll live.

Look. I-I-I came here to spend time with you.

If that's not why you invited me, then I'll go.

W-wait, Gus.

What happens if...

Once you get to know me better,

you stop liking me?

Why on earth would you think that?

One little cup of nog, sweetheart,

and I'll be home.

Thank you.

Patrice, I...

Uh, yeah, this is Lieutenant Provenza.

- Merry Christmas. - Oh! Oh, let me help.

Uh, good work.

- Good work, Sharon. - Thanks, Chief.

Hey, Gus.

How are you?

Thanks.

Gus, Merry Christmas.

Well, you brought Gus.

- I'm so surprised. - Yeah, me too.

And just to, um... put myself all in,

can I ask him to spend Christmas day with us?

Because he'll be in L.A. with no place to go.

Oh, Rusty, that's fine with me.

Andy, do you think your daughter

can find another place at her table?

I don't see why not.

I think it's extremely kind of you

to consider Gus so closely.

He's been through some difficult times.

Yeah. Well, um...

Maybe something good is about to happen, you know?

Uh...

Excuse me. I need to go...

- Yeah. - Save him.

Oh, excuse me.

Um... What's up?

Parole was responding to one of our flags.

- Mm. Which one? - Sharon Beck.

She's just changed her address

from the Tower's Rehab & Halfway House

to an apartment building right over here in Eagle Rock.

Her probation officer just faxed over a report.

She's been testing clean every week for the past three months,

and she's back on the street

with a cellphone, a job, and an address.

And she hasn't contacted her son?

She probably wants to be sure of her recovery first.

With that, I can agree.

You know what?

I am done interfering in Sharon Beck's life.

Let's give her the space she needs

and see what the new year brings.

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