Original subtitles

Previously on "Crossing Jordan"...

- So, this is a sign-out? - When I say so. If I say so.

You've been giving me time and space to figure out what I want. What do you want, now?

The logical thing for us to do... for our, uh... baby... is to get married.

It's not your job to get justice for everybody.

I don't think it's a good idea for us to get married.

There's no room for us. Not right now.

Call the Attorney General. Go endict me. Go do whatever you damn well please. Just get out of my sight.

- No, really. She doesn't look familiar to you? - Well, is she supposed to? / Yes.

Why? / If I knew that, I wouldn't need you to tell me who she is.

- Hey, Nigel. Come and take a look. - I'm busy. I'm giving a presentation on Thursday.

- I don't care. Get over here. - Why? What is it?

Uh... Hit-and-run. Bike versus car. Bike lost.

- I know her. - Me, too. Who is she?

I don't know.

Okay. Run her prints and put an end to this. Please.

ANOTHER FINE PROJECT BY DONALD GENE CONSTRUCTION

- You're the one that invited me over. - Yes. I invited you over. For dinner.

Yeah. And you served lamb, and you know I don't like lamb.

- How would I know you don't like lamb? - I don't... Why would I like lamb?

Oh, please. Let's not start another therapy session this way.

I didn't bring it up. / No. You brought up "When Harry Met Sally" and a change of clothes.

She said... that she wanted some help around the house.

And I didn't feel like scrubbing the toilet in my suit.

I asked him to change a light bulb that I couldn't reach. And his change of clothing was pajamas.

- Well, I... I... I... - Oh, please! Do not take Jeffrey's side again.

Just because he's been your patient for the last "gazillion" years.

Client. The word is client. And... don't take it out on Del.

Del, at least, is trying to help us stay together.

We are not together. This is co-parenting counseling.

- This is not couples' therapy. - I'm sorry.

Oh, don't roll your eyes at me. If you can't be impartial about...

...this...

Doctor Marlen? Doctor Marlen?

Del.

Del?

Hey, uh...

Hey, Del?

He's dead.

She was knocked twenty-five feet. Car had to have been going at least forty.

- Skid marks? - No. I hate hit-and-runs.

- What? - Oh, you got an I.D. Great.

You know who this is? It's Debbie Baron.

- No. It can't be. - She dyed her hair.

Who's Debbie Baron?

Beautiful young wife. Horribly abusive husband.

You've got to remember the case. The trial lasted for months.

Jordan was living in L.A. at the time.

I was in Wisconsin, and I still remember it.

So, what happened? She finally had enough and she killed her husband?

Not exactly.

He killed her. Six years ago.

Obviously not.

CROSSING JORDAN

JILL HENNESSY

MIGUEL FERRER

RAVI KAPOOR

KATHRYN HAHN

STEVE VALENTINE

AND JERRY O'CONNELL

CREATED BY TIM KRING

So, Debbie left her husband and moved in with her friend, Liz Gibson.

One morning, they did not show up for work.

Cops went in. Found blood all over the place, but no bodies.

The assumption was that her husband killed them

and then, dumped the bodies in either the river or the woods or wherever.

Well, now, we know why they never found this body. She wasn't dead.

- Is that Ivers? - Yeah. He prosecuted the case.

- You found Debbie Baron. - How did you know that? We just I.D.'ed her.

I'm electronically notified whenever anybody searches the state databases for info on these people.

Why? / A hit from the morgue on Debbie Baron means you found her body.

I can finally nail that son of a bitch. Where was she?

- Middle of Tremont Street. - What? That...

- Where... Where are her remains? - Here. Look, she just died a couple of hours ago.

What? No, no... This is... This is not possible.

- And yet... - You sure this is her?

Did you convict her husband? Because if he's in prison, you need to let him out.

Hung jury. The D.A. wouldn't let me re-file the charges. No. This was no accident.

You think her husband tracked her down again and then rammed her with his car.

Don't you have enough egg on your face already?

Will you be treating this just as a hit-and-run, or will you be looking at the bigger picture, here?

Oh, so, now, you're a big picture guy all of a sudden.

You have business here?

Your hit-and-run driver just turned himself in.

Eighty-two year old. Stomped the gas instead of the brake.

- Great. So, you won't be needing me, then. - Or me. Let me know when your report is ready.

- This makes no sense. - You made a mistake.

No. Tony Baron is a monster.

"C.S.U." determined from blood spatter and D.N.A. that two people had been shot.

The blood was Liz and Debbie's.

There was a small chunk taken out of the wall like he had to pry out a bullet.

Two rugs were missing.

What he did to Debbie during their marriage, you wouldn't wish on anybody.

Now. I need to know what happened after he shot them.

If the police or the D.A.'s office ask us to look into it, we will.

But you have no standing anymore.

Goodbye, Mister Ivers.

Man has a hard time admitting an error.

Well, he does have a habit of fitting the facts to the theory instead of the other way around.

Hey. I'll, uh... catalogue her injuries. Could you get somebody to locate next of kin?

Yeah.

Thanks.

Twelve years.

Twelve years we were together. I can't believe this is happening.

There's nothing you could have done. Any heart trouble in a man his size is usually catastrophic.

- You don't think our argument could have... - Look. It obviously didn't help.

Thank you. / Look. It's probably a blockage that's been... been building for years.

- There's nothing you could have done. - Maybe you should sit down. / Yeah.

- Maybe you both should. - I'm sorry. I'm just a little overwhelmed.

I just lost the only buffer I've ever had between me and my mother.

In here, guys. / I'll... I'll call her. I'll tell her we're gonna be a little late.

- There he is. - I've moved the desk for you.

- Do we need gloves? - I think she'll understand if we reschedule.

She just set up a thirty thousand dollar trust fund for our daughter.

As a way of controlling you, me, and a child that hasn't even been born yet.

Why don't you two just knock it off? Show a little respect.

Uh... Take the legs and we'll... ... grab the torso.

Poor old dude. Hey. I need to do anything special?

Yeah. Bend at the knees. On three.

One, two, three.

Then, we add the reagents to the blood sample, measure the "thiol-disulfide" exchange,

which tells us how long the blood has been outside of the body...

giving us a more accurate... time of death than ever before in the history... of forensics.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Thank you. No, no, no. Please. Please. Sit down. Um...

- Are there any questions? - I have one.

Where is the ballistics report on the Anderson case?

Doctor Macy gave me permission to prepare for my "A.A.C." presentation.

- It's the American Academy of Criminology. - Yes. I know what the "A.A.C." is.

Well, assuming that they like what I say...

- you're now looking at their next vice-president. - It's impressive work.

Thanks. You know, I recently got the idea on a case that we worked on...

- It's a little impractical, though. - Not at all.

Well, when you saturate blood with a "sulfhydryl" mixture, you destroy the D.N.A.

I know that. I know that.

But this method is a giant leap forward.

It's perfectly viable in cases where D.N.A. collection isn't a priority.

And... when is D.N.A. not a priority to members of the "A.A.C."?

Well, when the, uh... Uh...

Just get me the ballistics report. Alright?

Oh, my God. Debbie.

I'm so sorry.

Doctor Cavanaugh? Tony Baron is here. The husband.

No. I don't want to see him.

Okay. Could you have him wait for a few minutes?

- It's really her. - Mister Baron, this is inappropriate.

You knew she was alive. You knew I didn't kill her. / I didn't know.

- And what about Liz? Where's she? - Calm down.

- When I get the truth out of her. - Hey! Do you care that your wife is dead?

Oh, this wife? The one who set me up to look like I killed her?

- The one I thought was dead for six years? - Because you shot her.

- When can I have the body? - No. Please.

Legally, I'm next of kin. Not you.

Can you just let her be buried by people who love her? Please?

Why didn't you people figure this out six years ago?

No, I want the body. I'm throwing a big public funeral.

Show everybody they were wrong about me.

- Lily. - Hey.

- What are you doing here? - I'm hiding.

- From whom? - Jeffrey and his mother.

- Therapy's not working out, huh? - Not when Doctor Marlen drops dead right in front of us.

- What? - Bug's bringing him in.

So, Jeffrey's with his mother, and our therapist's in the morgue.

I think that pretty much sums it up.

Alright. On three. One, two, three.

Thank you.

I was yelling at him when he died. Least I can do is notify his next of kin.

- Uh... uh... You okay? - Baby's got the hiccups.

Isn't he a sign-out? / I want to do a partial autopsy just to confirm heart attack.

It, um... doesn't sound like he was helping you much.

Not sure what he could do, really.

Well, why spend the money?

Because... I don't want to cut Jeffrey out of his daughter's life.

That doesn't mean he has to park himself in yours.

Apparently, it does. With his mother attached to his throat.

You're about to have a baby. This should be the happiest time of your life.

Lily.

Was there anyone else there...

- besides the doctor when you went in? - No. Why?

What are you doing?

He didn't have a heart attack.

He was stabbed.

Check this out.

The husband's talking to every reporter he can find.

I feel vindicated.

I told them six years ago I didn't do a damn thing to Debbie or Liz.

Any idea where Liz Gibson is?

I don't even know where Debbie's been all this time.

The truth? That I'm an innocent man. That I've always been innocent.

That my wife framed me. That I've been wrongly persecuted.

D.A.'s office doesn't want us talking to the media at all.

Fine by me. They're the ones with a whole lot of explaining to do.

- Well, at the time, the evidence seemed clear. - Not to the whole jury. How many hold-outs were there?

Only two. I guess Ivers actually did a good job at trial.

Not good enough. Probably too obsessed with detail. Look at this.

Right arm. Old, healed spiral fractures.

Tony Baron's abuse was proved beyond doubt.

But no matter how you slice it, he didn't kill her.

Garret.

Is that a bullet?

Ivers was right?

Doctor Cavanaugh.

I found this near Debbie Baron's collar bone.

I ran some tests. There's a chance it's been in her body for...

five to eight years.

Twenty-two caliber?

- Yeah. - Come in.

Tony claimed his twenty-two was stolen.

But after the trial, I found it in a pawn shop.

- By chance? - Fourteenth place I went into.

- Why didn't you look before the trial? - I liked his story the way it was. Totally unbelievable.

"Oh. Somebody stole my twenty-two, but I didn't report it till after

my wife was shot with a twenty-two." Plus...

I didn't have the slugs to match to it.

And you still don't. This is way too damaged. I can't believe you kept copies of everything.

I knew this day would come.

You're sure you didn't pass any of his other clients coming down the hall?

Nobody gets past me without a tub of "Crisco" and a couple of cracked ribs.

Okay, we've got a...grocery list. Some... overdue bills.

A half-eaten bag of potato chips. Ants. Some therapist.

- No wonder Brandau is still... - So what?

Mrs. Hoffman. I'm gonna have to ask you to get on the other side of that tape.

I'm sorry. Do I know you?

Detective Hoyt. This is a crime scene,

- so if you would just... - Of course. We met at the wedding.

Just before the mother of my grandchild jilted my son.

- Right. Why... Why are you here? - Woody. Hi. Did you find anything?

We were just trying to figure out if Doctor Marlen had any standing appointments before yours.

His datebook is missing. You ever see anyone?

Uh... no. Clients enter here and they exit there.

Excuse me. Don't treat my son like a suspect.

Good lord. Let the man do his job.

Did I tell you she was wrong for you? Did you listen?

I think I found something.

Blood on a patient's file.

That is some honking file. Who has that many problems?

- Jeffrey Brandau. - I want that stuff. / Stop.

Whatever that quack said about me is nobody's business.

What is it with you? You run in everywhere like you own the universe. There are other people, you know.

- Oh, are there? - Lily. Sit.

Mrs. Hoffman! Find someplace else to be, or I'll get an officer to do it for you. Now.

Excuse me? But, uh... Doctor-client privilege survives death. So...

nobody reads that file.

Shouldn't you be out popping some small child's balloon?

- Here's your ballistics report. - Thanks. How's it going?

Well, if the reagent can be shown to be effective in a smaller sample...

There are dozens of ways to determine time of death.

Nobody's going to risk D.N.A. in any size sample.

Are you incapable of empathy? Could you at least try to be human?

- I called a friend at Tufts. - Are you sure?

- Sure of what? - That you have a friend.

He's developed a zinc-iodide amalgam

that stabilizes D.N.A. in degrading samples.

He thinks it may help. And he is very impressed with what you're doing.

Now. If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go practice being human.

"C.S.U." found trace on Tony Baron's tires.

Limestone, dolomite, dirt... mixed with feldspar and quartz.

So, he was driving on an unpaved road. Probably near a water source?

Plus pollen from elms, ash, and red maple. All of which are ubiquitous to the Boston area.

- Did you memorize the files? - Some cases stay with you.

Okay. So... The slug's no good,

and Debbie Baron's body can't tell us anything.

Uh... We don't have many avenues that haven't already been explored and exhausted.

- Forensic advances? - Maybe.

How about the hold-outs on the jury? Why did they dig their heels in?

- Because there were no bodies? - Yes. That. But mainly,

because I couldn't definitively put Tony Baron at the crime scene.

- He had an alibi? - His mother.

Who said he was with her from the time he got off work that day till noon the next day.

She came across sweet and honest, and I couldn't shake her off the lie.

- I gotta hand it to you for thoroughness. - It's going to be just like before, isn't it?

That bastard's... just laughing at me.

I just... I get, uh...

I need to take a walk.

Could you, um... back off?

I am not gonna open your gigantic file.

It's healthier to explore your issues than bottle them up.

Oh, God.

Look. I'm sorry about my mother. She's just a little... put out about dinner last night.

- Not everything is about her. - I know. But she thinks it is, so...

But she treats me like I am trash, and you just... stand there.

She's my mother. / And I am having your child. Pregnancy trumps menopause.

Is this what your daughter's going to have to put up with? / Sorry.

Did you get a hit on the prints?

Uh... yeah.

Who is it?

Somebody who was arrested thirty years ago.

For what?

Streaking at an anti-nuke rally.

Move. I want to know who touched my file.

Oh, my God.

Uh, yeah. That's me.

Wow.

They didn't even let me fix my hair.

There's really no excuse for that. I mean, what would it have taken? Fifteen seconds?

Why are your fingerprints on Jeffrey's file?

I know how you people operate.

I'm not saying a word until my lawyer gets here.

Hey. Look. We all fail, from time to time.

I promised... Debbie's mother I'd make Tony Baron pay for what he did.

Okay. So, why this case? Why has it stayed with you for so long?

Well, first, it was the challenge of getting a... conviction with no bodies.

And then, Debbie's mother. And... Tony Baron was such an arrogant jerk,

and... And I was engaged at the time.

I... She... She broke it off.

She didn't want to marry an obsessive workaholic.

Oh, I'm sorry. I...

This case cost me two years of my life... and a relationship.

Did you find anything in the files?

No. No. The only way we're ever going to solve this is to find Liz Gibson.

- We searched everywhere. - You were looking for a body.

- What if she's still alive? - You think she survived, too?

The one thing that we have now that you didn't back then is Debbie Baron.

Where's she been for the past six years? If we track her back, it might lead us to her friend.

Dead or alive.

You called Doctor Marlen... twenty-eight times in the last two days.

- So? That's a crime? - Elaine, just tell him why you...

- Marty. You're here to protect my rights. - If you didn't kill him, why not just answer the question?

If?

Do you really think a petite woman like me could harpoon that "beluga"? Get real.

Why did you call? Your fingerprints are on Jeffrey's file.

And your blood. You were in Doctor Marlen's office.

- My business is none of your concern. - Elaine, just tell him.

Are you serious?

Okay.

Jeffrey had begun to insinuate that I was the source of all his problems.

Which, of course, is ridiculous. So, I stopped by.

- To... straighten things out. - When?

Two days ago. And when I tried to reference his file,

that so-called doctor... he snatched it away from me and I...

- I cut myself. - Reference?

- Of course. He's my son. - Better him than me.

Will you stop it?

- I have to go. Arrest Mrs. Hoffman. - Excuse me?

- You don't have sufficient evidence. - The charge is assaulting a police officer.

And I've got plenty of evidence. Cuff her.

- Did you have to arrest her? - I feel your pain, brother. I do.

But she's in my way. "C.S.U." found the weapon in a dumpster. Do me a favor.

After you bail her out, chain her to something. / Jeffrey!

Mom. I'm sorry.

A dash of "glutathione", a pinch of sodium nitrate,

plus your friend's magic potion...

and... one scientific revolution...

coming right up.

I will not let your pessimism shatter my confidence.

- Did I say anything? - Moment of truth.

- The D.N.A. is not degrading. - Good.

But the sodium channels aren't responding.

- It's not working. - Science is about trial and error.

I wanted magic.

Well... What about an accident?

What?

Hand me that spray bottle.

- Fingerprints? - On a damp sponge.

That's eight hours of lab time...

- in a few squirts of the bottle. - Congratulations.

You've got yourself a little magic.

- Hey, guys. - Hey.

What is wrong with you people? Does personal space mean nothing?

Just looking.

The killer didn't carve his name in the... handle.

There's a little bit of blood, here. All this white powder.

Look. I will determine whether or not it is Doctor Marlen's blood.

I will identify the white powder. After which, I will let you know what I've found.

Pardon me for being interested in the case.

You think Jeffrey's mother could have done this?

- I have no idea. - Their relationship is so toxic.

Maybe this co-parenting thing is a bad idea.

I mean, I just... want what's best for Madeleine, but...

What do you think?

Look. I can't decide for you what you want. Okay?

- You could be a sounding board. - Forever?

Look. In a couple of weeks...

you're gonna be holding a tiny little girl who is gonna depend on you for everything.

You need to jump in one direction or the other.

Hey.

My mother slapped Woody. He arrested her on assault.

Uh... Speaking of... your mother...

Oh, yeah. I know. I know. She's got to leave us alone.

And, uh... I'll, uh... I'll... I'll talk to her.

Jeffrey... / I... I can't let her ruin Madeleine's life, too.

I don't know what I'd do without you. You and Madeleine. I...

You're all I have.

Oh, Jeffrey.

- You don't have me. - No, no. No, I know. I just... I mean...

you know... as co-parents. We'll be raising a child together.

I know she's your daughter, too.

But I want sole custody.

You know this isn't working.

You can't do that.

Jeffrey. It's not like I'm going to cut her out of your life.

We just can't do it this way.

Your mother's discharge papers are ready, Mister Brandau.

You can pick her up at the front desk.

That's...

Mm. Don't think that's gonna get you home.

You offering to give me a lift?

We run the serial number... we find out who sold her the bike.

It's possible she had it serviced at the same shop.

Uh... It's possible she built a relationship with the staff there.

It's possible we might catch a break.

You're kidding.

You see me on T.V.? Talking about what a moron you were?

I did.

- You gonna try again? - Hey. Can I help you?

Yeah. I want to make funeral arrangements. For my wife.

- Who died recently. - Reception can do that for you.

Debbie's bike?

Shame what happened to her.

Read me the serial number.

Six, "J", four, seven,

"M"... no, "N"... "P", three.

Purchased. Nine, twelve, "oh" two.

Rodney's Bike Shop. Sudbury.

I choose to believe that Rodney will have the information we're looking for.

I choose to believe he knows where Debbie was living.

Thanks.

I should choose to be on your side more often.

- Spartan. Just like you. - Clutter leads to chaos.

- Well, she liked ancient history. - It's a good way to forget the present.

The lease on this place? It's dated two weeks after she disappeared.

Cash receipts.

She seems to have paid cash for everything.

- Oh. Where did she get it? - I don't know.

Hey.

Take a look at this.

These were just taken a few months ago.

Her mother knew.

You begged me... to put Tony away for killing Debbie.

And all along, you knew she was alive. Didn't you? Didn't you?

I worked night and day for two years on this.

I came here and kept you informed, every step of the way.

I wrote you a six page apology after the trial because I felt I'd betrayed you!

If Tony knew she was alive, he would have killed her!

I wanted him to go to prison.

You do whatever you have to do to protect your child.

- What happened that night? - And where's Liz Gibson? Is she alive, too?

We need you to help us.

- Did Lily take off? - Yeah.

- She coming back? - Didn't say.

You going for a record? Fewest words in a sentence?

I get tired of talking.

Okay. What's going on, Bug?

I'm just sick of hearing about Jeffrey and his troll of a mother.

Why does Lily think that I can fix it all?

She's going through a rough patch. Maybe she's just looking for a little support.

Doctor Marlen's daughter is on her way in from Portland.

Might not get here till tomorrow. Now, if Lily's not here, you're gonna have to take it.

- Okay. - Is there any movement on the case?

Well, the blood on the murder weapon is the doctor's.

And... the mysterious white powder is a mixture of

calcium sulphate, wood pulp, perlite... and boric acid.

Drywall dust.

From really cheap drywall.

Not many contractors in Boston used wallboard that crappy in the last six months.

You were the only one who was also on Doctor Marlen's patient list.

D.G. Tolchuck. As in "Donald Gene Tolchuck".

As in "Another Fine Project by Donald Gene Construction".

You guys have a deal? You fix his building... he fixes your head?

He wouldn't stop harping. The door jambs, the molding...

Everything I did was wrong.

He sounded just like my father.

So, you killed him?

He knew that I was fragile.

This the guy? That him? The contractor?

He got upset Doctor Marlen took issue with his shoddy craftsmanship.

Somebody doesn't like something you do... you do it over. You don't...

You don't go around stabbing people, for God's sake!

- He was a great man. - Come on.

- I'm very sorry, Jeffrey. - Yeah.

Hey, Bug!

Can I ask you something?

Sure.

What's been going on between you and Lily since, uh...

for the past few months?

Nothing. / Oh. You went with her to pick out the color for the nursery.

- You were out of town. - And then, you helped her paint it.

- Lily and I are friends. - Oh. Friends?

She walked out of our wedding... and she went to you.

I need you to step out. Out of her life.

For Madeleine.

You know... We don't get to make decisions for Lily.

- I love her, Bug. - So do I!

The night Debbie got shot...

the night Tony did what he did...

she came here.

With Liz?

No.

Liz was dead.

Debbie told me that when... she showed up.

You know... Four in the morning.

Wounded. In shock.

She'd walked from God knows where.

She didn't know where she'd been. She only remembered pieces.

Gunshots.

Liz's dead eyes.

She must have staggered away from wherever Tony dumped them.

I guess adrenaline took over. Will to live.

But somehow, she managed to find her way back here.

She was crying. She was terrified.

She begged me not to call the police.

What about a hospital?

She seemed okay physically. She wasn't bleeding.

- No... blood? - What's wrong?

Well, the bullet nicked an artery. She should have been bleeding.

- But she wasn't. - What would account for that?

- Freezing temperatures. - It was July.

Salt water. Mud covering the wound. But once out of the water,

or the mud cleaned off... bleeding.

- Something must have stopped it. - Leeches! Leeches!

What? / I... I... I picked... ten or twelve of them off of her.

She can't have come that far, then. Uh, and leeches don't survive long out of water.

Are there any lakes or swamps nearby?

Over there.

- I've got a good feeling about this. - You said that about the last place.

- So did you. - Over here!

That's one of the rugs from Liz Gibson's living room.

Looks like we hit the jackpot.

It's damaged. Will you be able to match it?

I don't know. But you want to hang around here talking about it,

or you want to go give it a try?

You seriously going to put yourself through this again?

We found what's left of Liz Gibson's body.

Yeah. Great hiding place. And thanks for wrapping her up.

That bullet you fired was still in there. The slug you killed her with.

And one from your gun.

- Good luck. - That gun was stolen.

I've got a pawn shop owner that says otherwise.

Oh, and the D.A.'s re-filing the case.

Sorry I won't get to try it, but I'll be there. Every day. Right behind you.

When I was at the morgue... before, you know?

Oh. Back when we all wanted to strangle you.

Yes.

Sorry.

I didn't get what you do there.

No problem. Anymore.

- Thanks. - We did good.

And so, simply by combining... one, two, three, four...

common chemicals, we can instantly illuminate fingerprints on porous surfaces.

Ladies and gentlemen of the "A.A.C.", that concludes my presentation. Thank you.

Not bad. / It's, uh... It's not what it was supposed to be.

Well, few things ever are.

Glad I could help.

- Why did you? - What?

I mean, you... never raise a finger to help anyone around here.

You're welcome.

You know... Did I just go out of my way to help save you from public humiliation?

And so you know, I have friends.

Friends who thank me when I do them a favor.

And don't demand that I change my nature to fit in with the cool kids.

They also have more in their lives than work.

And they try their damnedest to be grownups.

They are... in short... human.

So.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

It means so much to hear that.

My father must have thought the world of you.

He was an incredible therapist.

He helped a lot of people.

Guess I've got to get back to my other life.

Stockpiling diapers. Reading baby books.

I, um... I ran into Jeffrey.

He invited me out of your life.

But I told him that I...

Lily?

You okay?

The baby.

What? Now?

Okay. Alright. Then, we... we... we need to get you to a hospital.

- I don't think there's time. - Okay. Then, we need a doctor.

- You are a doctor. - I am a doctor. But we...No,

we need another doctor. Doctor Macy!

Oh. Okay. Sit. No, no, no. No, no. Walk.

Walk. And breathe.

We... We can lay you down in...

Bug, I am not giving birth in Autopsy!

- What's wrong? - Baby.

- Now? - I think so.

- Oh, my God. We have to get you to a doctor. - You're all doctors!

- What is it? What's going on? - Get Doctor Macy. / Take it easy.

- Oh, you're having the baby? - I think so. / Now?

Okay. Just breathe. Just breathe. That's great. You're doing great.

- You're about to be a mom. - h, just get it out of me!

- Hold on, now. Hold on. - No problem.

That's great. You're doing great. Okay. We're gonna push again. Okay.

- One more push. - Okay.

Breathe. Breathe.

Head's coming out.

Push.

- Here it is. - That's it! That's it!

You're almost there! Come on!

Here she comes.

- We need a towel. We need a towel. - See? That wasn't so difficult, was it?

- Oh, it's easy for you to say. - Okay. I'm gonna go see about the ambulance.

- Nigel. Call the hospital, too. - Okay.

Hi.

Hi, baby.

- She's perfect. - Of course she is.

Look at her.

Hey, pretty.

- You are so pretty. - She looks just like you.

Good job.

Thank you.

You did a great job.

Oh, she's beautiful.

Hi!

Hi, sweetheart.

I will never back away from you again.

Hey, pretty. Hey, sweetie. You're here.

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