All language subtitles for In Plain Sight (2008) - S01E01 - Pilot (1080p AMZN WEB-DL x265 MONOLITH)

Since 1970,

the federal
witness protection program

has relocated
thousands of witnesses--

some criminal,
some not--

to neighborhoods
all across the country.

Every one
of those individuals

shares a unique attribute,
distinguishing them

from the rest of
the general population,

and that is:
Somebody wants them dead.

You put on sun block?

I'll put it on
when we get to the beach.

No, no, you gotta
put it on a half hour before.

Babe.
All right.

I'll put
the sunscreen on.

Good.

You two are
making me carsick.

Oh, yeah?

I can't wait till
you have kids and they think

you're a ridiculous
old fool.

Sorry to run your fun,
but I'm not having kids.

Bite your tongue, you.

You're giving me
grandbabies.

Or else...

Why are we stopping?

Well, petey's sick,

and I promised Dominic
i'd, uh,

I'd drop off
some stuff for him.

All ri--

try and hurry,
because if not,

we don't get
a good spot, frank.

Don't worry,
I'll just be a minute.

Not even.

Tell petey
I hope he feels better.

Will do.

And you,
don't screw with me.

You're gonna
give me grandchildren.

You hear me?
Yes, mom.

That's right.

Oh, my god.

How does that fat bastard
get up and down

those stairs
every day?

Who is it?

It's captain kangaroo.

Frankie, is that you?

Yeah, yeah, it's Frankie.

Come on, come on.
I'm in a hurry, petey.

Yo, Frankie.

Hey, petey.

I got a delivery for you
from Dominic.

Oh, yeah?

Yeah.

Petey?

Where are you?

Are you dead?

Oh, no.

Oh...

* I can't see me

* lovin' nobody but you

* for all my life

I have no idea
how that happened.

* the skies will be blue

all right, get back.
Let's go.

God, it's so
beyond retarded.

First of all,

we don't say "retarded"
anymore.

Don't even think
about parking there.

U.S. marshals.

Cars better be here
when we get back.

And second,

it's not retarded--
it's marketing.

Then it's
retarded marketing.

Look, imagery and metaphor
have been used--

oh, thank god.

Hey, what's up?

It seems your sister
would prefer

someone else
to pick her up.

What?
Put her on.

Mary would like a word.

Hey.

Don't "hey" me.

What the hell
do you think you're doing?

Nothing, but there's
no way in hell

I'm taking a ride
from some

rico suave wannabe

I've never even
seen before.

Why can't
you pick me up?

Because I'm working...

All the way
on the other side of town.

But I'm your sister.

Hey, you know what--
you can either

accept my friend's generous
offer or start walking.

Fine, I'll take the ride.

You do that.

Here.

Problems?

Brandi got in
this morning.

For my surprise party,
no doubt.

My condolences.

Now, as I was saying--

imagery and metaphor
have been used

to sell products forever.

Please, Jesus,
take me now.

Take the Ford mustang,
for instance.

Named for a powerful
and agile animal,

qualities we also seek
in an automobile.

It's called
"transference."

Yeah, okay.
What about my probe?

Exactly what image
is that supposed to transfer?

'Cause all I'm getting
is paper dress,

metal stirrups,
and legs akimbo.

Exactly what was
the thought process

behind that
marketing coup?

"Say, Bob,

"what's a metaphor
for an invasive,

"somewhat humiliating
procedure?

"'Cause we really
need something

to compete with
the Chevy speculum."

Ugh, why am I
eating this crap?

You gonna be like this
all day?

What?

Like--
You know.

Guess it depends how long
it's gonna be my birthday.

All day.

There you go.

Here we go.

It's a common misconception

that the membership in the
fraternity of goodfellas

is a prerequisite
for admission

into the federal
witness protection program.

God, if only that were true.

Many witnesses
are everyday folk who,

through no criminal enterprise
of their own,

have come to possess
damning info

about some very
dangerous people.

These unlucky losers
are trouble magnets

and should be avoided
whenever possible.

Thanks.

Uh-huh.

Which, in my line of work,

is almost never.

A ticket?
Are you kidding me?

Car's still there,
ain't it?

Ass-wipe.

It's all right.

We'll take care of you.
You're safe.

So this is how we're
transporting witnesses now?

It's a metaphor.

Oh, yeah?
For what, crap?

Let's go.

Thank you.
You're welcome.

So welcome to Albuquerque.
Is this your first time?

Da.
Uh, yes.

How long you been
in the states?

Three years
in New York.

Well, this is a far cry
from Manhattan.

And a universe
from Moscow.

I am from Kiev.

You speak Russian.

A little.

I learned it in the '80s

when you guys
were still commies.

In Ukraine,
we speak Ukrainian.

Uh...

Shut up.

Hi, Stan.

Hi, Mary.
It's Stan.

I know it's you, Stan.

That's why I said,
"hi, Stan."

Oh, right.

So did you
pick up the witness?

Yeah, we're on the way
to the apartment now.

Listen, I just got a call

from Albuquerque P.D.
and, uh--

oh, boy.

And "oh, boy" what,
Stan?

I know that tone.
Something happened.

Yeah,
Frankie santoro's kid

might have been shot
last night.

What? Where?
Is he dead?

I said "might."

All right, might.

They found a body
on one of those

development sites
out the pan am freeway.

I'm on my way.

That's one choice,
but bringing a witness

to the murder site
of another witness--

that violates at least six
WITSEC codes of conduct.

Stan?
I know what you're doing.

You're holding the phone
out the window.

What's that?
I can't hear you.

You're breaking up.

She's holding the phone
out the window.

Mary, you listen--
Stan?

I absolutely for--

change of plans.

Frankie santoro's kid
may have been hit last night.

Gotta see for myself.

What about...

She's coming with.

Fun.

Hi, Stan.

Marshall.

What?

I'm sorry, Stan.
You're breaking up.

Frankie santoro,
a.K.A. Frankie nuts--

a nickname not bestowed
for his love of filberts--

earned his ticket
into witness protection

by agreeing to testify
against his former boss,

Dominic mastro,
last of the big-time dons.

Frankie had the misfortune
of whacking petey lorusso

while he was
under FBI surveillance,

which, coincidentally,
was also petey's misfortune.

Wow, just like
the motion pictures.

Can I get you something?
A bromo?

Tasha, just stay
in the car.

This'll just take
a few minutes.

Okay.

Please don't let this
be Frankie's kid.

Should I call jinx now

and tell her
to cancel your party?

If you were
any kind of friend,

you would have done it
a long time ago.

You the lead on this?

Yeah, unfortunately.

Detective Dershowitz.

Dershowitz.
Really?

Yeah, a long story.

I'll bet.

Everyone
calls me "Bobby."

Or "Bobby d."

Mary Shannon.
U.S. marshals.

So why'd you call
the marshals, detective?

Well, we got
two dead kids.

We have a girl named
Sienna Burke over there.

And a boy with this
in his wallet.

And this.

It was tucked behind
the other one.

Kid with two identities,

occurred to me he might
be in witness protection.

You got all that
from a fake I.D.?

Yeah, I'm intuitive
that way.

All right, thanks.

Uh, that's evidence.

Uh-huh.

Any thoughts
about what happened?

You're asking me, what, out of
professional curiosity?

Sure, let's go with that.

Well, the girl's father
is Cale Burke.

He's the developer
of this land,

a project
that's been contested

in and out of court
for about a decade.

And you think somebody
unhappy about the project

might have done this?

Hell if I know,
but it's a place to start.

Right?

Unless of course you think
I should be looking

someplace else.

Nope, sounds to me

like you're heading
in the right direction.

That's what I thought.

Thanks for the call.
Mm-hmm.

Hey, what's with
the silent sentinels?

Huh?
Guys on the bikes.

Oh, they've been
watching all morning.

You're not
questioning them 'cause...

Because chasing
Indians on dirt bikes

through the desert seems like
a poor use of my talent.

Makes sense.

Hey, how 'bout it?

He one of yours?

Oh, afraid I don't know

what you're talking about.

Thanks again
for the call.

That's right, you're
the branch of law enforcement

that puts criminals
back on the street,

right?

Oh, god.

What a waste.

Hey.

Don't touch that.

Can't you shut his eyes?

Only if you got
a needle and thread.

Any thoughts on why he gets it
in the back of the head

and she gets hers
in the face?

She was running.

Took two in the spine,
taking out her legs.

Then they turned her over.

And finished her off
in the face?

Not quite.

Good god.

Somebody was pissed off.

This goes way beyond
pissed off.

She was alive
for most of this.

So you think
this was a message

to Frankie senior?

I don't know--
that kinda violence,

you gotta believe
she was the target.

Plus, they find junior,
they found senior.

So why not just
take Frankie out?

Why not just
take Frankie out?

Unless they don't
want him dead.

Maybe they just want him
to queer his testimony.

That could hurt a case worse
than him not showing up.

That could hurt a case worse
than him not showing up.

Please stop that.

Then again,
anyone who knows Frankie

knows killing his kid's
not the way to motivate him.

So you think he's not
gonna be happy about this?

Have you noticed
I'm not in a joking mood?

Sorry.

I gotta go find Frankie.

Tasha.

I told you
to wait in the car.

It's okay.
Come on.

Let's get you home.

Aww, that makes me sad.

why are we stopping here?

Just stay in the car
and don't touch anything.

No--
hey, wait!

No.

Hey, amigo.
Que pasa?

Yo, g.
Todo bien.

Hey, what's up?

Just keep an eye
on the ride for me.

Make sure nothing bad happens
to the car or to her.

Mostly to the car.

All right.

Hey, mami.

What's crackin'?

You wanna eff off?

Here you go, padre.

20 tickets
for Wednesday night.

Gracias.

De nada.

"Bleachers"?

So did you take her
to my house?

Not exactly.

Raph, what did you do?

I left her sitting
in my car

in front of
the youth center,

with a couple of

junior cholos
scoping her out.

She's totally
freaking out.

You did that?

Yeah.
Pretty funny, huh?

Oh, yeah.

But not the way you think.

What's that mean?

It means my sister
has a penchant

for boosting cars.

A penchant?

More like a compulsion.

Son of a bitch.

I thought I told you
to watch the car.

We did, ese.

Yeah, g.
There it go.

Mary, you better
come pick me up.

Ahh, I'm sorry,
I can't hear you.

You're breaking up.

Just a second.

Okay.

Phone works.

Phones work.

No.

No, no, no,
I can't.

I wish to go home.

This is your home now.

No, please!

It's not possible.

Tasha, listen to me.

You can't go back.

You can never go back.

You know what
they'll do to you.

I am just bookkeeper.

I know.

I know.
I know.

Shh.

Let it out.

Okay. Okay.

Shh, it's okay.

Let it out.

How this can happen?

My life.

My...family.

Everything gone.

They don't even let me
bring pictures.

I know,
it isn't fair.

But listen to me--

you did a great,
courageous thing, testifying.

Okay, and now it's time
to focus on the future.

Think of it
as a chance

to build
a whole new life.

Even better than the one
you had before.

But you cannot
under any circumstances,

not matter how homesick
or lonely you get,

go back home

or contact anyone
from your past.

In the history of
the witness protection program,

no one who's followed the rules
has ever been harmed.

You can do this.
Okay?

I know you can.

Come on.
Okay, come on.

Stand up.
Come on.

How 'bout you rest
for a little while,

watch some TV--

cable's not hooked up yet.

Yeah, all right.

Um, I'll get the cable
turned on.

And a little later,

I'll come by
with some groceries.

Is there anything special
you need?

They promised me
new breasts.

When I can get them?

No, between 1:00 and 5:00

isn't good enough,
federico.

Our friend
needs her cable on now.

So get it done or we're
switching to satellite.

That's funny?

How about we switch
to satellite,

then I punch you in the face?

She's home now.

I'll tell her
you're on your way.

So anyway, if you could
start processing info--

little Frankie,
the girl, her father,

friends and family
of everyone

Frankie's
testifying against.

Whatever else
you can think of.

You know,

I'm not your assistant.

I have
a couple dozen witnesses

of my own
to deal with.

Oh, yeah?

Any of their kids
get murdered last night?

I'll have to check.

Oh, fine.

Thank you.

Pissy little girl.

I heard that.

I don't give a rat's ass
about your protocol.

I've got two parents
on their way down here

to see their son,
and trust me on this one,

this is not where
you want them to find him.

Then you better
keep them outta here.

Because a Van
full of illegals

plowed into a bridge abutment
this morning.

And I'm under-staffed.

I won't know
which one of these is yours

until I start
processing them.

Well, how long
is that gonna take?

As long as it takes.

Well, work quickly.

Frankie, Felicia.
Look, come on.

Where is he?

Come back inside.

Is my boy
in one of these bags?

Excuse me, sir,
you cannot--

hey, you can't--
okay, okay.

Where's my boy?

Where's my boy?!

Okay, Frankie, please.
Please stop this.

Frankie, stop it!
Stop it!

Get off me.

Felicia.

Felicia.

Felicia.

Oh, my god.
Felicia.

Oh, god.
I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Frankie, wait.

Frankie!

Frankie...

Frankie!

Frankie, wait!

What, what do you want?!

Don't "what" me.

I know you.
I know what you're thinking.

Oh, congratulations.

You're the amazing
freakin' Kreskin.

No idea who that is,
but listen to me.

If you go off gunning
for whoever did this,

you're gonna blow
your whole plea agreement.

Did you just see
my boy in there?

I know, Frankie.
I know.

I'm so sorry.

But Felicia
needs you now.

Okay, please.

Please, go take care
of her.

I swear to you,

you'll get
your justice.

You got 24 hours.

After that, I take matters
into my own hands.

And to hell
with this plea.

Frankie--

as far as justice,

you've got your version,
I've got mine.

What are you doing here?

I work here, Stan.

Why aren't you helping Mary
move Frankie nuts?

She wanted me here
doing this.

And you thought
it was okay

to let her handle that
sick bastard by herself?

Her witness,
her call.

It how we do, g.

If anything happens
to her--

relax.

Mary knows
what she's doing.

So'd you get her
a birthday present?

I'm working her case.

You don't think
that's enough?

You're not that dumb.

I'm smart enough to know

you can't shop for Mary.

What about you?

Oh, well,
I just got her a...

Bottle of really
expensive perfume.

Mary doesn't wear perfume.

Yes, she does.

Nuh-uh.

You sure?

I mean,
she always smells so good.

That's just her.

Huh.

The care and feeding
of career criminals,

like Frankie nuts,
is a dicey proposition at best.

On any given day,
I get to play

mother, father,

best friend, priest,
rabbi, marriage counselor,

and yes, unfortunately,

occasionally
homicide detective.

Which is why
I find myself driving

my misogynist metaphor
across the desert

with a busted
air conditioner

to hunt down
the murderer of the son

of my murderer witness.

No backup.
No plan to speak of.

No alternative.

Also, Frankie junior
got killed on my watch.

That just pisses me off.

nice chaps.

Aw.

Write down
your customers' names.

I've never seen
these people before.

Listen.

Here's the deal--

two kids were killed
about a mile from here,

and at least
a few of these guys

were at the murder site.

So please,

save us both
a lot of trouble

and just write
the damn names

before great white father
back in Washington

goes all little bighorn
on your ass.

You're kidding me,
right?

Was that over the top?

Look, first of all,
it was you guys

that got your asses kicked

at little bighorn.

Really?

And second of all,

today's my first day
of work here.

And I have really never seen
these people before.

Sorry.

Thought you were
being difficult.

Excuse me.

Whew!

Good lord.

What is it
with men's restrooms?

Do you all like the smell
of stale urine?

Is that what it is?

Okay, enough chit-chat.

What's your name?

And did you kill
those two kids?

I'm sorry.

Are you talking
to me?

Aw.

What's so funny?

Well, it's so cute.

It's like one of
those mini-taquitos

they serve at happy hour.

Oh, yeah?
You want some?

Ew.

Manly, yes,
but I like it too.

Now, what do you say
you answer my questions

before I drag you outta here

by your
surprisingly small wee-wee.

Okay. Okay.

My name is George Parker.

And no, I didn't kill
those two kids.

So what were you doing there
this morning, George?

Pulling up
surveyor's stakes,

hassling workers.

What's your beef
with the project?

Same old story.

Indians getting
their land ripped off

for commercial
development.

Huh.

So killing
the developer's daughter

sounds like
pretty good payback.

Maybe.

Except the developer
isn't the one

that screwed us
out of the land.

Huh?

Talk to a dude
named Edwin talltrees.

He's the guy
that ripped us off.

An Indian?

That's right.

Why would he kill two kids
on his own land?

Because it isn't
his land anymore.

After he screwed us,

the dead girl's father
screwed him.

Sounds like a lot
of screwing going on.

Uh-huh.

All right, then, George,

you can zip it up.

Sorry about
the small wee-wee crack.

It's been
a bitch of a day.

That is one special guy.

God, I hope he calls.

Apparently,
ripping off your own people

has its upside.

Wish I had people
to rip off.

Can I help you?
Hi.

Mary Shannon
with the U.S. marshals.

You Edwin talltrees?
I am.

All right.

Must be a bitch getting pizza
delivered up here.

Hi.

Have a seat.

Thanks.

I suppose you're here
about Sienna Burke

and that boy.

Why would you
suppose that?

It's no secret
Cale Burke and I

had a dispute about that
specific piece of land.

You'd be remiss
not to question me.

God knows
I hate being remiss.

What can you tell me
about the murders?

I'm curious.

Why is
the U.S. marshal service

interested
in a local murder?

Hey.

Here's an idea.

Since I'm the one
wearing the badge

and you're
the murder suspect,

how 'bout we stick to me
asking the questions?

All right.

Cale Burke and I
attended Stanford together.

I stood up for him
at his wedding.

I was at the hospital
the day Sienna was born.

She and my son Kyle
played together

every day...

Until they went off
to different private schools.

I would give anything,

everything,

to bring her back.

What else?

Where were you
last night?

Here.

With Kyle.

Watching
the karate championships

on pay-per-view.

We're both students
of tae kwan do.

Get much call for that
in real estate?

Is there anything else,
marshal?

Is Kyle available?

I'd rather you didn't
speak to Kyle.

He's very upset
about Sienna.

Would you rather
I take him in for questioning?

Kyle,

come down here, please.

Okay.

Ahh.

Yummy.

Kyle.

This is marshal Shannon.

She wants to ask you
about Sienna.

Okay.

I understand
you were good friends.

Were.

Since dad and uncle Cale

had their disagreement,

we weren't allowed
to see each other anymore.

Did you know
the boy she was with?

Uh-uh.

I just heard
he went to her school.

Can you think of anyone
who would want

to do this to Sienna?

Everybody loved her.

She was like...

Well, you just
couldn't help it, you know?

Is that enough?

Sure.

Just one more thing.

Where were you
last night?

I was here with my dad

watching
the karate championship.

That's what I thought.

By the way, who won?

Edgar Sanchez.
Edgar Sanchez.

I'm really sorry
about your friend.

Yeah, it sucks.

Thanks.

I really wanted
to turn around

and pop off one of those
Columbo questions.

You know,
the innocuous afterthought

that lets the killer know
that I know he did it.

Excuse me,

do you always wear white shoes
after labor day?

Unfortunately,
I had no idea

if talltrees had anything
to do with the murders.

And, more importantly,
he wasn't wearing shoes.

As good as I am
at sorting out

other people's lives--

you'll just have
to take my word for it,

I'm really good--

that talent pales
compared to my genius

for keeping my own life

in a constant state
of turmoil.

I should have just let you
walk from the airport,

you psycho whack-job.

Just give me--
just give me the keys.

A couple of years from now,
you're just gonna be

another hairnet-wearin'
cholo.

Just please
give me my keys.

Are you gonna hit me?

No, but give me
the keys.

Come on, hit me.

Enough. Enough.

Just give me my keys.
Enough.

I've got enough going on
without having to deal

with this b.S.

Mary,
thank god you're here.

They've been like this
for half an hour.

She stole my car.

You left me sitting
in the middle of the ghetto.

Mary, please,
would you do something

before the neighbors think

we're poor white trash?

Oh, obviously not you,
Raphael.

God, my head
is just splitting.

She's lucky
I don't call the cops.

Raphael, she was scared.

Go ahead, you know what,
call the cops.

I'll just tell them
about that dime bag

I found
in the center console.

It's not mine.

Dime bag of what?

You don't get high?

Is that what
you're telling me?

I don't get high.

Okay, all right.

Both of you,
stop it, stop it.

I don't know whose dope
it is, and I don't care.

I want it out of here now.

I'm a U.S. marshal,
for Christ's sake.

Ma, go inside
and take some aspirin.

Brandi, give him his keys.

You better don't think
that stuff is mine.

What kind of stuff?

"You better don't"?

Oh, god.
It doesn't matter, Raphael.

No, the hell it doesn't.

You're taking her word
over mine.

I'm not taking
anybody's word.

What part of
"I don't care whose it is"

is difficult for you?

Is this how you thank me

for taking time
out of my day off

to pick up
your psychotic sister?

You were supposed
to drive her to my house,

not intentionally
scare the crap outta her.

I had to stop
at the youth center.

The scaring the crap
out of her part

was just a bonus.

It's a juvenile prank
that blew up in your face.

Then after
she steals my car,

you don't even come
and pick me up.

I was busy.

Why can't anyone
get it through their heads?

I have a job.

Oh, that's right--

everybody's gotta make time
in their day, but not Mary.

Cry me a river.

What did I pull you away from,
an extra set of crunches?

Is that all
you think I do?

No, sometimes I think
you work on your lats.

Have a happy birthday.

I'm outta here.
See ya.

You happy?

What, I already
got rid of the stuff.

What's the big drama?

Oh, my god, Brandi,
when are you gonna grow up

and stop
making life miserable

for everyone around you?

Oh, come on.

You couldn't
take an hour off

from serving warrants?

Or drinking coffee
at the courthouse?

Or whatever the hell
it is you do

to pick up your sister?

Okay, ma, I know you think
Brandi's your precious baby.

She's not.

She's a virus,
infecting everyone around her.

All right, that's enough.

As long as you keep propping
her up and making excuses,

that's all
she's ever gonna be.

God, would you stop it?

This is your baby sister--

now she's gonna cry,

and you're gonna tell her
everything's okay.

And somehow, this is all
gonna wind up my fault.

So if you don't mind,

I'm gonna skip
the next part of the program.

I have to get back to
whatever the hell it is I do.

Ugh!

Excuse me.

Just give me
the damn keys.

You want 'em?

Yeah.

Go get 'em.

No!
Don't touch me!

Get your hands off of me!
Put me down!

You get out
when I get the keys.

Up yours!

Oh, classy.

Marshall.

Hey, how's it coming?

Drips and drabs.

I tracked down
the girl's best friend.

She's at work
at Elsa Ross.

So she doesn't know?

Either that or she's got
a great work ethic.

All right,
I'm on my way.

Tread lightly.

Hey, give me
a little credit.

Oh, god.

I can't believe
she's dead.

I'm so sorry.

And I can't believe
you tried on clothes

before telling me.

Yeah, again,

I'm really sorry.

Thought it would help
ease into it.

I can see now
that was a mistake.

I don't know anyone

who would do anything
like this.

All my friends
are really nice.

What about Frankie?

Did he have
any enemies?

I don't know.

He was new.

How long had he and Sienna
been going out?

They weren't going out.

Sienna was just
being nice to him.

He was a virgin.

So she was gonna...

You know.

That is nice.

Sienna was like that.

Okay. Okay.

Is there anyone
we should talk to?

Anyone you'd want to talk to
if you were me?

She had a boyfriend.

I'd want to talk to him.

Okay, good.

He was this big secret.

And I mean, really big.

She wouldn't even tell me
what he looked like,

and she told me
everything.

Did she tell you
anything about him?

Anything at all?

Just that he made her get
this stupid tattoo.

You mean the one
on her chest?

Over her heart.

So how come
she was with Frankie?

I mean, if she had

this secret boyfriend
and all?

'Cause they broke up,
like, a month ago.

Did I forget
to mention that?

Yeah.

You kinda did.

I'm sorry.

It's okay.
I'm sorry.

Before you hear it
from somebody else,

I smacked an Indian's Johnson
with a bar of soap today.

Just thought
you should know.

Haven't we done enough
to those people?

I'm not proud
of myself.

Did you come up
with anything?

Not really.

Oh, except
that two days ago

a three-second call
came into santoro's house

from a cell
registered to Richie mastro.

Richie mastro,
son of Dominic mastro.

Don of dons,
head of the five families,

called my Frankie?

Yes, Fredo.

You sure?

You know,
it hurts when you doubt me.

All right, let's go.

Now where?

Frankie nuts has got
some 'splaining to do.

Do I get to play bad cop?

Like you could.

Oh, damn.

What's the matter?

Hi, Tasha.
It's me, Mary.

Is your cable
on yet?

Good.

No, we can only pay
for the basic package.

Hbo and showtime
are extra.

Listen,
about your groceries,

something's come up.

So what's the book
on young Richie?

Well, for starters,
you'd have to say

he's of questionable
character.

Tossed out of choate,
was he?

NYPD has him
under investigation

for a handful
of murders.

And of particular interest,

a former girlfriend got
a restraining order against him

after he broke
four of her ribs.

Then, guess what,
two days later

she turns up
hacked to bits.

No.

Afraid so.

Apparently,
our boy's got girl issues.

And likes knives.

So he does junior,

then has his jollies
with the girl?

Could be.

Somehow he got
Frankie's number.

So it would seem.

Son of a bitch.

A week before he testifies
against Dominic.

I bet you anything Frankie
was trying to broker a deal.

You know what I think?
What?

I think Frankie might have
been trying to broker a deal.

You're an idiot.

Where are the people
who were staying here?

La gente,
a donde estan?

Damn it,
what language do you speak?

Oh, perfect,
she's deaf.

You have a pen?

They're gone.

She doesn't know where.

What?

Come on.

You calling in
a phone trace?

That'll take hours.

Get a warrant,
blah, blah, blah.

I need to find mastro
before he finds Frankie,

or vice versa.

Since when do you
know sign language?

Apparently I don't.

Hello?

Hello, is this Richie?

You gotta be kidding.

Yeah, who's this?

This is nomi.

I don't know if you remember,

me and my girlfriend pia
met you

at cosmo's
a few weeks ago.

Maybe,
I meet a lot of chicks.

What's up?

Well, pia and I
were just talking

about how much fun it was
to hang out with you,

and how much we wanted
to party with you that night.

And pia said
we should just call you

and see
what you was doing.

No way in hell this works.

Yeah,
maybe some other time.

Oh. Oh!

Oh!

Pia.

What are you doing?

Please don't talk dirty.

Oh, Richie,
I wish you could see this.

Me too.

What exactly is, uh,
pia doing to you?

Well, first of all,
I'm lying on my tummy,

and I'm wearing

this real short skirt.

And pia's
taking her tongue

and running it
all the way up my--

oy.

Oh!

Sweet mother.

Oh!

Oh!

Oh!

Ahh!

Ah!

Ahhhh.

She's talking
to her mother.

Ohh.

Ahh.

Oh, Richie.

I want to do you
like pia just did me.

Tell me where you are.

We'll come over
in a cab.

That is, if you think
you can handle both of us.

Listen, uh, romy--

nomi.

Okay, listen, nomi,

as much as I'd love
to party with you and pia--

and trust me,

I got more than enough
for both of you--

that's gonna be
an awfully pricey cab ride.

Why's that?

'Cause I'm in Albuquerque,
cupcake.

Albuquerque?!

Unbelievable.

How funny.

Some guy
just invited me out there

to some balloon festival,

whatever the hell that is.

No kidding?

Some coincidence, right?

Hey, are there
any decent places

to stay out there?

Yeah, they got
one really nice resort

just outta town.

Golf, spa,
the whole deal.

That sounds--

uh-oh, I think my husband
just got home.

Honey, I'm home.

Mother Mary and Joseph,

what's going on here?

Where are your panties?

You bad, bad girl.

I gotta go.

I'll call you back.

That's just...

Nomi?

From showgirls.

Sweet.

Who is it?

Room service,
Mr. Martell.

I have a fruit basket

compliments
of the hotel.

Leave it by the door.

And a bottle
of dom perignon.

I'm not allowed
to leave it outside.

All right,
hold on.

Pain in the ass.

Freeze!

Don't even fart.

My wallet's on the bar.

Take whatever you want.

We're not here to Rob you,
you stupid hump.

We're U.S. marshals.

I didn't do nothing.

Oh, yeah?

Isn't that cute?

That ain't mine.

Where's Frankie?

Frankie who?

Santoro,
where is he?

Frankie nuts,
how the hell should I know?

Ahh, what are you,
a nun?

Quit screwing with me.

I know your father
sent you to kill him.

Now tell me where he is,
or so help me

I will feed this ear
to my mother's poodles.

I thought
they were shih tzus.

Focus, Marshall.

Where the hell
are you?

I thought I told you
to stay put.

No, it isn't all right.
Stay there.

I'm coming over.

Something's come up.

Be a dear
and take him in.

Yes, honey.

Shall I pick up
your dry cleaning

while I'm at it?

Take me in?

What for?

For ending an interrogatory
with a preposition.

Hey,
that's a $6 candy bar.

Put these on,
and shut up.

Easy.

Hey.

Let me explain
something to you.

When I tell you
to stay someplace,

you stay there.

You can't just
change locations

without telling me.

I don't have time
to go chasing

all over hell and high water
looking for you.

This goes for you, too,
Felicia.

I needed
to light a candle.

Listen, I know
you two are hurting,

but this--

this is not
how the program works.

We checked into
the marriott.

The other place
was too depressing.

The bedspreads had stains.

How does Richie mastro
have your phone number?

What?

You heard me.

He called your house
two days ago and hung up

like he was
checking the number.

I know I didn't
give it to him.

So who did?

Well,
it certainly wasn't me.

I haven't contacted
anybody.

Oh, god.

What?

Oh, god,
did I get Frankie killed?

What? Tell us
what you did, Felicia.

You stupid--

Shh!

What happened?

Have you been talking
to someone?

No, no.
No, I swear.

Not on the phone.

On the Internet.

Me and Cathy,
we been emailing each other.

But I never told her
where we were.

And I didn't give
our number.

I swear on my life.

Who's Cathy?

It's mastro's wife.

They've been friends
since grade school.

He must have found out,

and he tapped our isp.

Listen, Felicia,
we don't know

that mastro had anything
to do with this.

I killed my son.

Hey, don't do this
to yourself.

You tell me where

that son of a bitch mastro
is right now.

Oh.

Do we have anything
to hold him on?

Tampering
with a witness.

Maybe hampering
a prosecution.

Yeah.
What about the murder?

Unless something turns up,
he walks in 48 hours.

Yeah, yeah,
that's what I figured.

So, I, uh...

Returned the perfume.

Smart move.

And...

I got her these.

Wow.

I'll bet
these set you back.

Oh, sure.

Very pretty.

So you think
she'll like 'em?

Have you ever met Mary?

What? What?
They're shoes.

All women love shoes.
Mary's a woman.

Ipso facto,
Mary loves shoes.

So sad.

No, no, okay,
this time you're wrong.

Mary's gonna lo--
hey, guys.

Oh, my god.

That's just evidence--
evidence

from a case--
another case.

Can you believe women
actually wear these?

"Oh, my god,
look at me.

I'm a cosmo-drinking
Manhattan whore."

Imagine that.

Not a word.

Anyone talk to him yet?

Yeah, the FBI's
sending somebody down.

I need to talk
to him first.

Just hang on a second, Mary.

All right,
your witness is safe.

You did your job.

How 'bout we just let
the FBI do theirs?

How 'bout
we screw the FBI?

I need to know if mastro
killed Frankie junior.

And you know
as soon as the feds get here

we're out of the loop.

Am I right, Stan?

All right,
do what you gotta do.

The feds show up,
I'll deal with 'em.

All right then.

What are you gonna do,

beat them off
with your strappy little pumps?

Wake up,
douchebag.

Wish I had a nickel

for every time
I heard that.

Why are you in Albuquerque?

Why are you
busting my balls?

'Cause I can.

Now answer my question.

I bet you're
a tight little ride.

Ooh, that was a mistake.

You little bitch.

Did you kill
Frankie junior?

I assume that's
a rhetorical question.

"Rhetorical."

That's a pretty big word
for a moron.

Interesting
interrogation technique.

Does the name calling thing
usually get guys to confess?

'Cause frankly, I find it
a little off-putting.

Oh, come on.
Just tell me.

No one else
has to know.

Are those real?

Go ahead,
take a good long look.

'Cause it's the last pair
you're ever gonna see.

And why's that,
pussycat?

'Cause, Richie baby,

me and my friend pia
would double-team dick Cheney,

if that's what it takes
to put you away.

Did he do it?

Don't know.

So who's pia?

And what does dick Cheney
have to do with this?

Hmm?

And why is it I never know
what's going on?

You're a big picture guy,
Stan.

Mm-hmm.

So this is where
the real police work, huh?

Hey, marshal.

And may I add,
happy birthday.

Yeah.

So far it's been
a real pisser.

So you come up
with anything interesting?

Oh, it's all interesting.

Spoke with the girl's
parents, friends.

Checked
the cell phone records.

According to
Sienna's best friend,

she had a secret boyfriend.

Nobody's ever seen him.

Doesn't even get a mention
in her diary.

So if there was
a boyfriend,

the guy's a ghost.

Maybe it's someone older.

Needed protection?

Like a teacher,
or maybe

an ex-business associate
of her father.

Hey, you think
just like a cop.

Go figure.

What about forensics?

Anything come in yet?

No, won't see anything
until tomorrow.

I was just about
to pack it in for the day.

That's probably
a good idea.

Did you check out
talltrees and his son?

Yeah, guy's a real
piece of work.

Unfortunately,
there's nothing to connect

him or his son
to any of this.

Kinda what I got too.

So, uh, how 'bout you?

What can you tell me
about the boy with two names?

I was supposed
to interview his parents,

but guess what--
they're suddenly

nowhere to be found.

Huh, maybe they're
on vacation.

Look, marshal,

I get it.

You operate under
the cloak of darkness.

Only boy wonder
knows your true identity.

But guess what,

I take this
murder-solving business

pretty seriously.

So either share
what you've got

or quit wasting my time.

Oh, and by the way,

took me all of two minutes
to get on the phone

with an NYPD captain,

get the whole 411
on Frankie nuts.

So what's it gonna be?

Sorry.

I got nothing.

That's what I figured.

It's Mary's world.

The rest of us are just here
for housekeeping.

Hey, you don't know me.

Really?

Let's see.

Typical relationship
has a shelf life

of, oh, I'd say
about a month tops.

No real friends.

Can't quite figure out
why you're always

on the outside
looking in.

No one "gets you."

But hey,
that's their problem.

How am I doing?

That's real mature.

And she stole
my damn pen.

Okay, it's been said
I don't always

play well with others.

Maybe even at times

I project
a prickly exterior.

But in response to that,
and in my defense...

I have something to say.

Come in.

No, I still
have work to do.

And we both know
what'll happen if I come in.

Well, but it's,
like, 112 out there.

This'll just
take a minute.

Earlier at my house,

I may have given

the impression
that I didn't believe you,

or that I wasn't appreciative
of you picking up Brandi.

Is this an apology?

Please don't put words
in my mouth.

I just want to clarify.

That is, um,

explain--

my god,
it's hot out here.

Would you please
come inside?

You're letting
all the cool air out.

Okay, but just
so I can explain.

Yeah.

Your explanations have--

have a certain
je ne sais quoi.

Is that what I just did?
Yeah.

I mean,
I knew it was French.

I just didn't know
they had a name for it.

Oh, they have a name
for everything.

Oh, man.

I'm sorry about before.

I know.

Happy birthday.

Happy birthday.

Hey, would you be upset

if I skip
your surprise party?

Uh, I don't know.

I guess not.

Why?

Well, truth,
I kinda had my fill

of your family
for one day.

And besides,
you and me kinda

already did our thing.

You know?

Okay.

You want me to come?

No, I don't.

You should do what you want.

You don't care, huh?

No, I don't.

Like you said,
we already did our thing.

When it comes
right down to it,

I don't have
a reasonable right to care.

Well, you're gonna have
to explain that one.

This is what we do.

Raphael,
this is our thing.

We have sex,

then we say good-bye,
which is fine.

We're both smart enough
to know we're never--

I don't have
a reasonable right to care

what you do beyond this,

because this is as far
as we go.

How can someone
that burns so hot

be so cold?

I don't know,
it's a great question.

Give me a call
if you figure it out.

* you got the look

* and I was in crazy motion

We all live in hiding.

In one way or another,

each of us
conceals pieces of ourselves

from the rest of the world.

Some people hide

because their lives
depend on it.

Others because they
don't like being seen.

And then there
are those special cases--

the ones who hide because...

Because...

Because they just want
someone to care enough

to look for them.

* when something goes right

* it's apt to confuse me

* oh, I can't

* something so right

Did you tell
that homicide detective

today's my birthday?

What homicide--
who?

Forget it.

Maybe I should
talk to mastro again.

I don't know.

You think the FBI

will let me
take another crack at him?

If I can't
I.D. the killer,

I need to at least start
eliminating suspects.

You're gonna have a tough time
eliminating mastro.

What's that mean?

20 minutes after you left,

the FBI showed up
with DNA

on his dead girlfriend.

He agreed to flip
on his family.

And they cut him a deal.

He's in the program.

Please tell me this
is one of your unfunny jokes.

That's not
the worst of it.

What?

Half hour ago,
mastro walked out

the back door
of the fed's safe house.

He's in the wind.

Oh, crap.

I told Frankie
they could spend

one last night at home.

Come on, Frankie.
Answer your damn phone.

Frankie?

Open up.
It's me, Mary.

What are you doing?

Calling mastro.

Frankie,

open up!

All right.
All right.

What?

Felicia,
what are you doing?

Is this what
you were expecting?

Because I, for one,
am flabbergasted.

What's going on,
Felicia?

Richie found out
I was emailing Cathy,

and he came here
to kill us all.

But I shot him.

I can see that.

Why are you
pointing the gun at Frankie?

Because this bastard

ruined my whole life.

And now I'm gonna
shoot him, too.

Okay, okay.

Well, you could do that.

But let's just
think this through.

If you kill Frankie,
I'm gonna have to kill you.

I don't care.

I have nothing
to live for anymore.

Okay, look.

Here's the thing--

men lie, they cheat,
they start wars.

They're slobs
unless they're gay,

and there's precious few
of them walking the planet

worth putting on
lipstick for,

let alone
throwing your life away.

Which is what
you'll be doing

if you shoot your festering
crap-bag of a husband.

Is that really necessary?

Shut up or I'll shoot you.

I can't live
with him anymore.

Then don't.
You don't have to.

Okay.

Felicia, as hard
as it is to imagine,

you have days
ahead of you

where you will
smile and laugh

and look forward
to things.

And maybe even
fall in love again.

If you don't
throw it all away.

I promise.

Oh, god.

It's okay.

Shh.

I'll catch up
with you later.

So what's
gonna happen to her?

Well, since she shot mastro
in self-defense,

she'll probably
get a new identity

and be moved someplace
you can't find her.

You know,
it's a hell of a thing--

losing your wife
and your son

all in the same day.

Do you ever think about
all the people, the families,

had days like this
'cause of you?

The clock's still ticking.

Either you get me a name
by this time Tom--

actually, Frankie,
name or no name,

this time tomorrow

you're on your way
to a new city,

and out of my hair.

I'm sorry for your loss,

but screw you
and your clock.

I just wanna wash
the stench of this day off

and go to bed.

I know, but there are
about 60 people in there

hiding behind furniture

just waiting for you
to open the door

so they can jump up
and yell "surprise."

Yuck.

Come on,
it's your birthday.

This isn't about you.

Now get ready
to act surprised.

All right,
all right.

Let's get it over with.

That's my girl.

Surprise.

Oh, happy birthday,
sweet pea.

Thanks, mom.
Aww, you're welcome.

Whoop, okay.

How'd you keep this
a secret?

Pfft.

You knew that I knew.

I knew that you knew.

At least
that was a surprise.

I knew
it would be.

Hey, Mary,

a little something
for you.

Oh, Stan.
I know, I got it.

Open it. Open it.
Okay.

It's...

You gave her money?

It's just what
I always wanted.

Thank you.

See?
See that?

Is, um--

is Raph here?

No, I'm sorry.

That's okay.
I told him not to.

What about Brandi?

She thinks you don't
want her at your party.

I see.

You're gonna keep looking at me
with those sad eyes

until I go talk to her,
aren't you?

Mm.

I know you mean well.

But you're not
a very good mother.

Oh.

I can't believe
you gave her cash.

Huh...

This is a good party,
huh?

Hey, squish,

what's going on?

Nothing.

You okay?

Yeah.

Okay, come here.

It's okay.

Come on.

Come on.

I'm so sorry I make your life
so miserable.

Oh, god.

Listen to me.

You don't make
my life miserable, okay?

I get frustrated
sometimes.

You know, I want you
to be happy.

And I want you

to stop doing stuff
that hurts yourself

and makes you miserable.

That's all.

Come on.

Shh.

Stop.

Stop.

Come on.

Shh.

There's
my pretty baby sister.

I got you something
for your birthday.

Really?

Yeah.

You didn't have to.

I know, I know.
I just wanted to.

Aww.

Wow.

It's an Indian talisman.

Or totem?

Maybe.

I forget which,
but, um,

I got it
from this Indian stand

after I took off
with chico's car.

Raphael.

Right.

It's from
the los lobos tribe.

Sweetie,

los lobos is a band.

A band of Indians?

No, just a band.

Oh, well, anyway,
it means:

May you always sleep
under the tall trees, so...

That's nice, right?

That's really nice.

So you like it?

I like it.

I like it a lot.

Thank you.
Thank you so much.

Listen, I have
to go do something,

but when I come back,

I want to talk, okay?

Okay.

Okay.

Okay, here's how
I think we should proceed.

Open up, talltrees!

I think I'll just stand here
with my thumb up my ass

while you start shouting
like a crazy person.

After a while
it becomes charming.

What is all this?

What happened?

Sienna get tired of sleeping
under the tall trees?

You think I was having
an affair with Sienna?

Not only
is that disgusting,

it's slander.

And you had better be
very careful with your--

excuse me.
Do you mind?

Go ahead.

Edwin talltrees,

I have a warrant
to search this property

for any and all evidence
relating to the murder

of Francis amato junior
and Sienna Burke.

Please step outside.

Wait.

What?

Look.

At what?

Oh.

Stop right there.

Don't come any closer.
I swear I'll--

what?

Kick the stool out?

Please.

Let me.

Hey, what are you doing?

So after spending

almost their entire lives
together,

Sienna Burke
broke up with Kyle

because she couldn't
tell her friends

she was with an Indian.

She broke his heart.

So he cut out hers.

It almost seems fair.

Thanks for the call.

It's your case.

U.S. marshals
have a long history

of cooperating
with local law enforcement.

Uh-huh.

After all I've done
to get us off the reservation,

to give my son the same
opportunities as the whites,

they still treat him
like a redskin.

But he won't
be tried like one.

Whatever.

I've got white man's money,

a white man's lawyer,

and I promise you--

my son won't spend
a day in prison.

Hey, chuckles.

Your son's a monster.

He gutted Sienna Burke

while she was
still alive,

and he needs
to be put down.

But guess what,

he's not the only monster
on the block.

Not by a long shot.

Prison or no prison,

tomorrow morning the very
worst of those monsters

is coming for him.

So good luck
with your white man's defense.

Let me know
how that works out for you.

Oh, and you might want
to think about

adding a little security
for yourself.

Hey, hey, hey.

She seeing anyone?

Oh, crud.

Hi.

You're awake.

Da.

I didn't want
to miss my groceries.

Sorry.

I got hung up.

Is this what you mean
when you say,

"I be back
a little later"?

I wish to know
for future.

No, I'm usually
very prompt.

I--i--

something happened.

Anyway, it's late.
And here's your groceries.

You bring me porno.

To help you pick out
your new breasts.

See, all different
shapes and sizes.

My name is Mary.

Today's my birthday.

And if I ever

run into the son of a bitch
that promised me

a life of excitement
and unlimited opportunity

as a U.S. marshal,

I'll shoot off
both his kneecaps.