All language subtitles for 14.15 Love for Sale

(wind blowing)

(dog barks in distance)

(buzzes)

(siren approaching)

STOKES:
Man, do you know how close I was

to being off the clock
when you called?

Yeah, I thought about
waiting ten minutes,

dumping it on the day shift,

but for the victim's sake,

I thought we'd go
with the "A" team.

Oh, boy,
she looks really young.

CRAWFORD:
16. Just got her license.

Name's Debbie Logan.

Nevada plates.

Is she local?

CRAWFORD: Let's see,
the address is in Rowan.

That's, what,
another 30 miles out?

Yeah. Car's registered
to her parents, same address.

No money,

no phone...

Could've started as a robbery.

Yeah, someone whacked her
in the head real good.

But I don't think it happened
in the car.

There's just not enough blood.

She was definitely on
the ground at some point.

Her clothes are dirty.

She's got what looks like
blue tinsel in her hair.

Put a call in to her parents.

Didn't even know
she had left the house.

Thought she was still
in her bed, asleep.

Hmm.

Algebra books,

Bible study books...

I don't think she was a runaway.

Makes you wonder

where she snuck off to
last night, doesn't it?

Yeah, but what
I really want to know

is how the hell
she ended up way out here.

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Who, who, who, who?

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Who, who, who, who?

♪ I really wanna know ♪

♪ Who... are you? ♪

-I Oh-oh-oh I
- Who...!

♪ Come on, tell me who are you,
you, you ♪

I Are you!!

(sighs)

It always takes
a little out of me

when I see them this young.

ROBBINS:
I know what you mean.

And I'm afraid
the story only gets worse.

PHILLIPS: Found skin
under her fingernails.

I went ahead and ordered
an SAE kit.

And...?

Wet mount revealed
the presence of semen.

ROBBINS:
That, along with

vaginal bruising and
the abrasions she sustained...

I'd have to say she was
sexually assaulted.

Is this wound
the cause of death?

Blunt-force trauma

and the attenuating
brain injuries.

Time of death, somewhere between
midnight and 3:00 a.m.

Any thoughts on a weapon?

ROBBINS:
The margins

are irregular and jagged,

so nothing with
a blade or sharp edge.

And this cut on her knee?

Pre-mortem or post?

Well, let's have a look.

There's some sort of
paper fiber stuck to it.

Probably bathroom tissue.

FINLAY:
Maybe somebody

dabbed at it
to stop the bleeding.

In which case,
the cut was certainly

prior to the fatal blow.

Hold on.

There's something else.

It's embedded much deeper.

Huh.

Looks like a piece of glass.

It is.

I'll get this off to Hodges.

ROBBINS:
You-you all right?

Finn?
You all right?

Yeah.
Yeah, just...

Just a...

16-year-old girl

having to face the horror

of being raped and killed...

Just never understand it.

MAN: We didn't even know
she was out.

We thought she was still asleep.

And then the detective called.

Was it like your daughter

-to sneak out of the house?
-No.

Not at all.

Did she say anything last night

before she went to bed?

I... I-I don't know,

I wasn't there.

I was ministering
to some parishioners.

No, she didn't say anything.

It was just a normal night.

She did her homework
and she went upstairs.

I don't understand.

Why would she have
left the house?

Where would she go?

Did she have a boyfriend?

MAN:
No. She never even

talked about boys.
That wasn't her thing.

Well, uh... what was her thing?

I don't know. The usual
for a 16-year-old, I guess.

She hung out with her friends,
she went to school...

RUSSELL:
She didn't call you

to say she was in any kind
of trouble, did she?

Actually... we have her phone.

We took it from her.

WOMAN:
And not because she was bad.

Her grades had slipped.

She was supposed
to earn her phone back.

MAN:
Uh, look, Mr. Russell,

I know what you're thinking.

I minister to families
all the time

whose kids are out of control.

And that is...

That wasn't Debbie.

She worked hard in school,

she helped out around my church,

she taught Bible study
to the preschoolers.

She really was an angel.

♪♪

Seatback to pedal is 44 inches.

Way too far back for
our victim's height.

Whoever dumped the body
probably adjusted the seat.

Someone tall.

Judging from the distance,
around six feet.

You manage to

pull any prints off the button
that controls the seat?

No, so far,
everything's been smeared.

I'm guessing either
the killer was wearing gloves,

or he wiped everything down
before he bailed.

It rained yesterday, right?

SANDERS:
Yeah. For a while.

This flyer isn't
weathered or faded.

Might have been put
on the car last night.

"$3.99 breakfast special.

-Patty's Diner."
-Here we go.

Finally.

-You got a print?
-Yeah, big and juicy.

Could be from the last person
who touched the car.

The killer.

(machine humming)

FINLAY:
Hey.

I know what you're going to say.

"I want to be dazzled."

Oh, let's not set
the bar that high.

What do you know about
the glass fragment?

Well, for starters, it's old.

Oh, how old?

HODGES:
At least 100 years.

X-ray fluorescence

revealed a significant
amount of manganese.

And manganese was eliminated
from the glass-making process

prior to the start of
the First World War.

Interesting fact:

manganese glass is actually
clear when it's produced,

but then over time,
sunlight turns it purple.

What else?

Well, the glass
fragment is curved.

And extrapolating
from the curve,

I have determined
that your piece

came from a bottle
with a base radius

of a little over an inch...

something like one of these
apothecary bottles.

-Not bad, Hodges.
-Hey, guys.

I processed the semen from
the sexual assault kit.

Semen DNA matches DNA

from the tissue found under
the victim's fingernails.

-So she fought off her attacker.
-ANDREWS: Yeah, but

the DNA profile
isn't in the system.

Sorry.

Oh... me, too.

SANDERS:
Were the parents any help

figuring out where
their daughter was?

They weren't, actually.
It's kind of strange.

I never got any sense of
connection from them.

I mean, the father's out on
church business all the time,

but-but the mother...

She didn't seem to have a clue

about who her
daughter really was.

Well, we may have something...

I found a print on
the passenger-side door handle

of the victim's car.

It matches a set of prints
on this flyer.

What are you thinking?

Well, someone might've tried

to break into the victim's car
last night.

You know, guy goes around
putting flyers on windshields.

Gives him
the perfect opportunity

to check inside for valuables.

Well, I'm thinking
that he saw something

inside the victim's car,

because he tried the handle.

DEBBIE:
Hey! What're you doing?

Get away from my car!

(grunts)

(Debbie screams)

SANDERS:
Ernesto Pena.

Talked to your boss
at the diner.

She said that she pays you

an extra 50 bucks a week

to distribute flyers
after work each night.

CRAWFORD:
That's not a bad way to make

a little extra scratch, huh?

Every little bit helps,
you know?

But you also found another way

to make some extra scratch,
didn't you?

You lost me, man.

I don't know what you mean.

CRAWFORD: All of these were
in the trunk of your car.

And my guess is,
when we search your apartment,

we're going to find
a whole lot more.

SANDERS:
It's a big step, though,

going from breaking into cars

to rape and murder.

What are you
talking about, man?

I never hurt anybody.

You did more than
just hurt her, Ernesto.

Hell no, man!

You got the wrong guy.

I didn't do that.

SANDERS:
You left your fingerprints

on her car door handle

and the flyer.

That's how we found you.

And when your DNA
comes back a match

to what we found on that girl...

Fine.

Fine, you want to test me?

Test me!

You'll see, you're wrong.

I did not do that.

I didn't even break into
any cars last night.

SANDERS: Then why did we find
your fingerprint

on her car door?

I might've stopped at,
like, one place

on the way home.

All right?

There were maybe a dozen cars,

but nothing in there
worth stealing,

so I tossed the flyers

in a trash can
and went home, man.

Please, man,
I'm telling you the truth.

Okay, where is this place?

Where was the girl's car?

Some building, man,
off the highway, man,

way out in Brime County.

How about you tell us
exactly where?

STOKES:
What is this place?

I don't know.

I don't see any signs.

STOKES: Yeah, and I don't see
any restaurant flyers

on any of these cars, either.

Well...

Ernesto said he left
most of them in the trash.

No, empty.

You know, maybe this guy
is just jerking us around.

Then again,

maybe he's not.

SANDERS:
Well, what do you think?

Should we check it out?

Al right.

(doorbell buzzes)

You must be the Harris brothers?

You're a little early.

Yeah, well,
there was no traffic, so...

I'll take you guys in.

Suzanne will probably be
a couple of minutes,

but you can get started
on your selections.

There was a piece of this
in the victim's hair.

She was here.

(music playing softly)

Now, I can take your drink
order whenever you like.

Just let me know,
but in the meantime...

(bell dings)

...why don't you have
a look at your choices?

(indistinct chatter)

STOKES:
Well,

so much
for our wholesome little girl.

Teenage Bible studies teacher

spent her last night alive
in a brothel.

(giggling, indistinct chatter)

-WOMAN: Hi.
-Sorry, ladies, but, uh,

we're here on business.

You know, we have
a law enforcement discount

every day until 10:00.

That's good to know,

but, uh, not today.

Oh, come on.

You must see something here
that you're interested in.

(door closes)

We don't want to waste
your time, ladies.

This isn't gonna happen.

-(sighs)
-I'm serious.

SUZANNE:
You heard him, girls.

(indistinct chatter)

Gentlemen.

Clearly,
you're not the Harris brothers.

We're CSls;
we're from Las Vegas.

We have reason to believe
that there was a young girl here

last night named Debbie.

16 years old.

This is a legal,
licensed brothel.

Having a minor on the premises
would be against the law.

I would never allow that.

Would you mind taking
a look at her photo?

Sure.

She wasn't here.

Don't suppose there are any,

uh, security cameras
around here?

Footage from last night
that might back up your story?

Cameras are bad for business.

My customers
aren't breaking any laws.

Doesn't mean they're not
breaking any vows,

if you know what I mean.

(Suzanne chuckles)

So, we'll just have
a look around?

Absolutely.

But under one condition.

If you see anything
that excites you...

...you let me know?

Yes, ma'am.

-He's right there.
-Oh, yeah.

It's hard to imagine
our victim in this place.

She seemed so innocent.

Well, I guarantee you,

every one of the girls
that we just met

has a father at home
who'd tell you the same thing.

(laughter)

Oh, we'll wait on that one.

Okay.

We got, uh,

the School Room,

the Red Room...

...\Western Room...

...and, uh...

...Jungle Room.

Which do you prefer?

(door creaking)

Hey, Nick,

come in here.

So, the victim had

antique glass in her knee.

Dust void here.

Bottle's missing.

Mm-hmm.

There's no broken glass
in the trash can.

(glass clinking)

Well, I got some here,
and it's purple.

(sniffs)

Hey, I've got blood.

- (indistinct conversations)
-MAN: Everybody out!

(shutter clicking)

SUZANNE:
This is ridiculous.

I told you,
this is a legal brothel.

All of my girls are certified
and licensed.

Except for the
16-year-olds, right?

(scoffs) Watch your accusations,
Detective.

-I have friends in high places.
-Oh, good.

After we're done, you might want
to give one of them a call.

It won't have to wait that long.

Roger, please!

Do something!

This way.

Officer...

No, no, Rog, Rog,

that's gonna be okay.

Uh, we're not gonna need
your help right now.

I'm Roger Ridley.

I'm Brime County Supervisor.

And I know, Suzanne can come
off a little rough sometimes,

but I'm here to tell you,
this place is 100% above board.

And is that your
official position, Mr. Ridley?

Or are you speaking
as a satisfied customer?

(chuckles)
Both.

I mean, I've known Suzanne
a long time.

I helped her get
this place licensed.

So I'm just asking
that you set aside

some of these prejudices
against prostitution.

It's just a business,

like any other business.

I'm not here because I have
a problem with prostitution.

I'm here
because I have a problem

with 16-year-old girls
being murdered.

DEBBIE: Look what I made
with the Helping Homes Project.

Not bad, right?

You didn't think I could do it,
but this is, like,

the third one of these houses
I've built.

It's a lot of fun being
a Helping Homes volunteer.

I guess if I flunk
out of school,

I could always become
a construction worker.

-(laughs)
-(computer beeps)

What you doing?

I'm torturing myself.

I'm going through the
victim's computer,

looking at her e-mails

and her Friend Agenda page.

I'm just trying to figure out:
How does a girl like her

end up in a brothel
and then dead

in a car on the side
of the road?

Everything about her is
so positive and wholesome.

You know, Detective Crawford is

about to bring
the brothel owner in.

Maybe you want to be there.

Okay.

(door opens)

Mmm, brought a woman
with you, huh, Detective?

Is that so us gals

can... relate?

Oh, I doubt we have much
in common.

Sex business
make you uncomfortable?

No, trafficking in young girls

does do something bad
to my stomach.

(chuckles)

What kind of person
do you think I am?

CRAWFORD: We have DNA
proof that Debbie Logan

was in your brothel.

Then she turns up dead,
having been sexually assaulted.

You want us to believe
there's no connection?

I run a legal business.

Yes, you do run a business.

You like to make money, right?

So let's say a client comes in

and offers you
a whole lot of money,

but he likes them young,

and you're someone
who always delivers,

so you deliver Debbie Logan.

CRAWFORD:
We already have enough

to shut you down.

If you know who killed
that girl,

it's a good time to talk.

Unless you want us to hang
a murder charge on you as well.

I don't know who killed her.

She was dead the first time
I laid eyes on her.

My bartender, Rex, he found her.

Suzanne, there's a girl outside.

- Think she's dead.
-What? Where?

She was outside
in the parking lot.

I don't know anything about her
being inside the brothel.

That is the one and only time
I saw her.

So, um, this is the spot.

She was right here
next to her car.

I-I didn't see her

until after I threw
the trash in the Dumpster

and was headed back inside.

Why didn't you call it in, man?

What the hell is wrong with you?

I went and told Madam Suzanne.

-I thought she'd call it in.
-But she didn't.

No, she told me to get rid
of the body, just get it

anywhere away from here.

So that's what I did.

I found her keys in her purse

and I put her in the car.

I did what I could
to cover up the blood,

SO no one would know,

and then I got her
the hell out of here,

away from the brothel.

I drove her up the highway,
parked the car

and... and hitched back.

You're an idiot.

You know that?

Come on, I...

I didn't try to hide her.

I... I put her where I knew
she'd be found.

(sirens wailing)

HODGES:
Blood, yours.

Cigarette butt, mine.

Oh.

A 1926 penny.

That's got to be
worth something by now.

I'm sure it's probably doubled

or even tripled in value
since then.

Hey, you know, there's a rumor
going around the office

that you visited a brothel once.

Is that true?

Many, many years ago.

It's a long story,
and not one with a happy ending.

No pun intended.

Aha.

I will see your two
cigarette butts,

rusty pull tab and penny,

and raise you one
piece of turquoise.

Don't say I never
gave you anything.

SANDERS:
So I talked to the girls.

Several of them said
that the bartender

was only outside for a minute--

long enough to dump out
the trash--

Then he came running back in,
looking for Madam Suzanne.

So if we believe the girls,
Rex isn't the killer.

Well, we still need
to find the murder weapon.

STOKES:
Hey, check this out.

Shoe impression.

Looks fairly fresh.

Pointed, like the toe of a boot.

Or a high-heel.
Plenty of those in there.

Ah,

Or...

the killer left it behind when
they were getting rid of this.

Consistent with the
victim's head wound.

♪♪

Only thing harder than
getting blood from a stone

is getting fingerprints.

Nothing there?

Nothing usable.

Too smudged.

Killer probably was
wearing gloves.

You still running the prints
from the brothel?

Yep. I already processed
about a hundred lifts.

Probably have at least
that many still to go.

Brothel turns out to be
quite the popular place.

What a surprise.

Yeah, interesting clientele,
too.

I've already had
two city councilmen,

a former child actor

and an over-the-hill
rock star.

(computer beeping)

That's interesting. One of
the prints from the brothel,

the Western Room-- it's a match

to one of the exemplar prints
we collected

before processing
the victim's car.

You got a name?

Let's see.

RUSSELL:
That's the girl's father.

His prints are all over
the brothel.

He was there.

RUSSELL: It's almost
a cliché at this point--

A revered man of the cloth
indulging in carnal escapades.

I checked with
your secretary, Mr. Logan.

You clear your schedule

for "personal reasons"
every Tuesday night.

Right about the same time,
your bank records show

you withdrawing $500 cash--
week in and week out.

Kind of brothel regular,
aren't you?

There's nothing illegal
about my going there.

A bit hypocritical, though,
don't you think?

What happens there
is between me and God.

You're missing the point,
Mr. Logan.

We don't really care what
goes on between you and God.

Or you and your favorite hooker,
for that matter.

Our problem is: you frequent
the very same brothel

where your daughter was killed
two nights ago.

That's our problem.

Wait a minute.

Debbie was at the brothel?

CRAWFORD:
Don't act surprised.

We don't buy it.

You can't think I had

something to do with
Debbie's death?

No, I'll tell you what I think.

I think Debbie figured out

what your Tuesday nights
are all about.

She caught you in the act.

Daddy, how could you?

We have to talk.

-You are a hypocrite!
-Listen to me!

-Everything you are is a lie!
-This has to only be our secret!

No, no, listen to me!

(grunts)

Fight started
in the Western Room.

That's where Debbie
cut her knee.

At some point, she ran outside.

I'm guessing
you followed her out there

'cause you knew
you had to stop her.

Debbie, if you tell,
I'll lose the church.

I'll lose everything.

And your mother-- you really
want to hurt her like that?!

Don't even talk to me!
You should've thought of that.

Don't you walk away from me!

I don't know what sick,
twisted world you live in.

But I could never, ever
lay a hand on my daughter.

You don't have to take
my word for it.

I wasn't at the brothel
Tuesday night.

There was an emergency.

One of my parishioners died,

and I was ministering
to that family all night.

This is their number.

You call and check
if you don't believe me.

Okay, so we're only testing
shoes and boots

with pointed toes.

Okay, so sneakers, anything with
a round toe, we don't need.

This is such a waste of time.

Can't Prince Charming here
just test the shoes on his own?

Why do we have to be here?

Because the impression
will be different

with the weight of your foot

inside of the shoe
pressing down.

Okay.

Uh...

Actually, I only need
the right one.

You can have a seat.

Okay, stand up.

Try to stand still.

All right, now lift up.

Great. Take your shoes off
and just leave them right there.

Hey, Finn.

Yeah?

Take a look at this.

There's glass stuck in the sole.

FINLAY:
That looks a lot like the glass

we found in the victim's knee.

You know, when I interviewed
the girls earlier,

Kirsten said that she had never
been in the Western Room.

You lied to me.

You told me that you had never
been in the Western Room.

That's not true, is it?

Wow, a hooker
who can't be trusted.

Shocking, right?

I don't think this is
something to joke about.

Who's joking?

I know about
your two drug busts.

It'd be really easy for me
to make a call right now

and have your
prostitution license revoked.

Unless you have
some other job skills

that I don't know about...

Fine, all right?

I saw her.

She showed up at the back
door, and I let her in.

I put her in the Western Room

so that Madam Suzanne
wouldn't see her.

She'd blow a boob if she
saw a kid in this place.

Why was she here?

I don't know.

We get girls like her sometimes.

Runaways, usually.

They think the glamorous
life of prostitution

is gonna be the answer.

Well, she wasn't a runaway.

Whatever.

Told her she didn't belong here.

And when she broke that bottle,
I showed her to the door.

That was the last time
I saw her.

Wow, that's the lamest lie
I've ever heard.

Do you know that girl
was only 16 years old?

Someone raped and assaulted her,

and then beat her
over the head with a rock.

So, I don't know
what your life was like

or what was done to you,

but nobody deserves
to have that happen to them.

(door opens)

MAN:
Kirsten!

Don't say another word.

FINLAY:
What are you doing here?

I called an attorney.

She doesn't have to talk to you.

I guess we're done here.

Kirsten.

Saved her from a confession.

Not even a thank-you.

You ever wonder
why you even bother?

I mean, are you gonna pay
for her attorney, too?

If I have to.

SANDERS:
Why would you do that?

Well, because
he's in love with her.

She's Miss Tuesday Night,
isn't she?

She's my daughter.

But we thought that Debbie
was an only child.

No. She had a sister.

Kirsten was 17
when she ran away.

We've been estranged ever since.

So you coming here
every Tuesday night...

It's the only chance
I get to talk to her.

I have to pay for her time,
just like anyone else.

At $500 a week?

$500 is nothing for the chance

to sit down and talk
to my daughter.

I have never given up on her.

And I'm never gonna
give up on her.

Mr. Logan,

we have reason to believe
that Kirsten may have been

involved with Debbie's murder.

Then you better
get the evidence.

'Cause I'm gonna make sure she
has the best defense available.

So our preacher
has two daughters, right?

One a hooker, the other,

as far as we can tell,
practically an angel.

Okay? All right?

So let's say that
Kirsten is our killer.

What's her motive?

Jealousy, right?

Yeah.

Kirsten's stuck being a hooker,

paying the bills on her back,
while her little sister is

at home being treated
like a princess.

Mom has written her off
completely.

Dad still pays a weekly visit,

but he probably just
preaches at her,

tells her she should be more
like her little sister, right?

-Yeah, that could make her snap.
-Right.

Cracks a rock
over Debbie's head.

ANDREWS:
Hey, D.B.?

Well, I've been
working on an I.D.

for the guy who sexually
assaulted our victim.

I don't have a name yet,
but I was processing

DNA samples brought in from the
brothel, and I found a match.

Specifically,
to DNA on bedsheets

that came from the Asian Room.

So the last customer
in the Asian Room...

Same person
who raped Debbie Logan.

So I met this bozo
at the brothel;

he's a friend of the madam's.

(people chattering urgently)

MAN: Close the door!
Close the door!

Run! Call the cops!

WOMAN:
Help!

Somebody call 911!
He's got a gun!

Who's got a gun? Ridley?

No, no. The reverend.
He's gonna kill him!

MAN: Move! Let's go!
Everybody clear out!

Hurry up!
Come on, you guys!

REVEREND:
Bastard.

How could you do that

to a little girl?

To my baby?!

Mr. Logan, drop the gun.

He has to die.

I have to kill him
for what he did to Debbie!

Come on, now, Jim.
You can't do this.

He raped and killed
my little girl.

For God's sake,
I did nothing of the sort.

Stop lying!
Look, there's the proof.

-She fought for her life.
-STOKES: Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Listen to me, now.

-Now, you know this is wrong.
-How is this wrong?

-He deserves it!
-CRAWFORD: No doubt he does,

but let us deal with it, okay?

Not you.

-No...
-(cocks gun)

I have to do this.

Hey! Hey! Listen...

Now, I can't quote
any scripture...

yeah, I don't have any
godly words for you...

but I do know this:
If you shoot him,

Detective Crawford,
right behind you,

is gonna pop you right
in the back of the head.

Man, nobody wants that.

So how about...

...I reach up and I take
that gun from you...

(shudders)

All right?

Nice and easy.

Okay.

Good man.

For God's sake,
you should've shot him.

Shut up, fool.
Come on.

(siren approaching)

Don't you even move.

He did those things I said.

He's the one responsible.

We know.

But how'd you find out?

Kirsten told me.

Debbie explained everything
to her the other night.

Is that why Debbie
went to the brothel?

She was looking for her sister?

No, no, no,
she was there to see me.

She thought I was there
with Kirsten.

She was upset
and she wanted to...

tell me what that piece of crap
had done-- how he raped her.

OFFICER: Excuse me.
Out of the way, please.

You can put those away.

We're all Code Four here.

It's okay, Jim.

Give this man
a set of bracelets,

and walk him out
to the car for me.

But sit on him for
a few minutes, okay?

He's gonna be riding
back with me.

RIDLEY: Boy, I hope you guys
are smart enough

to realize he's delusional.

It must be, uh,
just the grief or something.

I tell you what: we'll take
a look at the evidence.

We'll draw our own conclusions.

Eh, that's the ladies
at the brothel--

They don't hold back.

-Yeah.
-You know what I mean.

Sure.

Open up.

Pardon me?

Your mouth. Open it.

- (scoffs)
-CRAWFORD: You know what

this is gonna reveal, right?

That you raped a 16-year-old.

Rape?!

There wasn't any rape!

If anything happened,
it was consensual.

And, for the record,
I thought she was 18.

You knew she wasn't.

That's why you killed her--
to keep her quiet.

Come on!
You guys are way off base here.

For starters,
let's not paint this girl

like some kind of angel.

She wasn't no virgin.

You know that's a lie.

She got paid for it.

If you don't believe me,

why don't you go ask
the woman who pimped her out?

CRAWFORD:
Who are you talking about?

It's Madam Suzanne?

Not Suzanne; I told you--

Suzanne's on the up and up.

Okay, then who the hell
are you talking about?

Can somebody please tell me
what I am doing here?

I'm supposed to be
at a memorial service

for my daughter right now.

This is... unconscionable.

Mrs. Logan,
we've been talking with a...

an acquaintance of yours--

Brime County Supervisor
Roger Ridley.

He's downstairs in a holding
cell, as a matter of fact.

FINLAY:
He signed a sworn statement

saying that he paid you
$1,200 and, in return,

you arranged for him to have sex
with your daughter Debbie.

That's disgusting.

That is a horrible thing to say!

Why do you think
he said it, then?

I have no idea.

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

I... my husband and I
were pretty vocal

opposing Mr. Ridley's
election last year.

I-I-I can only think
that he's trying

to get back at us somehow?

I mean, you're not gonna
take the word of a...

of a dirty, horny
pedophile over...

...mine, a preacher's wife.

Well, you weren't always
a preacher's wife, were you?

These are LVPD arrest reports,

one from 1989 and two from 1990.

Solicitation for prostitution.

Okay.

So what?

I was a prostitute.

It was a long time ago.

RUSSELL:
You were young.

You were really young.

But then your husband came along
and rescued you.

(mocking laughter)

"Rescued me."

That's funny, actually.

You ever know
one of those people--

Someone who rescues
lots of animals?

Then you see them with their
pets later, and you realize

they don't give a damn
about the animals.

They just want the whole world

to think
they're someone special.

That's Jim.

All his charity,
all of his missionary work,

the hours and hours he spends
helping out his parishioners...

So you don't think
that was genuine.

He just wants everyone
to think he's a great guy.

Gets off on
the pats on his back.

FINLAY:
Well, he obviously helped you

turn your life around.

You sound just like
all the rest of them.

I should be so lucky
to have him.

My life before Jim
was just fine.

Being a prostitute, you mean.

Good enough for you, good enough
for your daughters, right?

FINLAY:
How old was Kirsten

when you first started
pimping her out?

Fifteen?

Yeah, how old was she?

When I was 15, I was working.

Mm-hmm. I guess Kirsten was
too scared to run to her dad.

Kept her mouth shut.

Too bad Debbie
couldn't do the same.

After she was raped
by Supervisor Ridley,

she ran to the brothel to tell
her father what had happened,

and to tell him
what you had been doing.

RUSSELL: Yeah, lucky for you,
he wasn't there.

But you were.

You were waiting outside...

Mom?
-Oh, you bitch!

You think you're
better than Kirsten!

You think you're better than me!

This is all a lie.

You can't prove any of this.

FINLAY:
Oh, yes, we can.

We have a pair of shoes
that we found in the trash

behind your house,
with blood on them,

and I am sure that,
when we test them,

they are going to match
the shoe impression

that you left
at the murder scene.

RUSSELL:
Also found a turquoise stone,

in the gravel
outside the brothel.

Matches perfectly to a bracelet

that you had in your
dresser drawer, so...

yeah, yeah,
we can prove this, Mrs. Logan.

They're not my girls;
you know that.

They were adopted.

Jim's idea.

Two more rescues.

I never wanted 'em.

Mr. Logan...

your wife will
remain in custody.

She's gonna be
charged with murder.

I'm sorry.

So it's true?

She killed Debbie?

Yes, sir.

And then...

what Ridley said, too?

She was selling the girls?

Kirsten, for years,
until she ran away, yeah.

And she was just
starting with Debbie.

All this time, Kirsten...
never told me.

Or maybe she tried
and I didn't see it.

I don't know how
I could've been so blind.

It's, you know, it's...

been overwhelming.

All these people in my parish
are in need and-and...

...and I neglected the ones
who needed me the most.

And now I've lost them.

Well... maybe not all of them.

You could still
save your daughter.

I think she'll be saving me.

♪♪