All language subtitles for Csi.ny.S04E16.LOL.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

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♪It 's a song...
it's just a song... ♪

♪ It's just a song...
it's just a song ♪

♪ It's just a song
about Ping-Pong! ♪

♪ Money order money,
hear it today ♪

♪ I got another 15 seconds
and I'm ready to play ♪

♪ I say money order money,
hear it today ♪

♪ I got another 15 seconds
and I'm ready to play ♪

♪ I got my, got my, got my,
got my racket in hand ♪

♪ Not leaving till I play,
don't think you understand ♪

♪ With that dirty dirty dirty
dirty look on your face ♪

♪ I bet you know beef jerky
has an aftertaste-- go! ♪

Tonight's top story:

a child abduction in Brooklyn.

The parents of Bailey O'Dell

plead with kidnappers for their child's safe return.

If the person who took Bailey
is listening...

...we just want our child back.

We love Bailey so much.

N-- oh, no!

Our vic is Miranda Bauer...

...23,
Columbia graduate student,

also a part-time receptionist
at a financial investment firm.

Her cell's been
ringing nonstop.

She's all dressed up.

Somebody's calling,
wondering where she is.

I don't have the heart to answer it
and tell whoever it is the bad news

that she's not going to make it.

There's several lacerations

and pieces of glass
in the palms of her hands.

She tried to get up.

Means she was alive when the frame fell
and busted her collarbone.

I imagine she tried
to break the fall.

This sharp edge shattered the glass

and she
went right through the window.

I'm coming up short
on any witnesses.

A couple people heard the crash,
but nobody saw what happened.

You two finding anything
that says this is murder?

No defensive wounds.

No evidence
of a struggle.

No indication
that she was pushed.

Looks like Miranda Bauer simply stumbled out
of her high-heeled shoes.

Stella, it's three nights
in a row you've worked overtime.

You're running on
fumes. Go home.

I'm fine, Mac.

Clearly, this is an accident.
There's no need for both of us to be here.

Which means I'm going to wind up
doing all the work anyway.

20 minutes from now,
he's going to be on the train home as well.

Get out of here.

All right.

I don't want to go to bed!

I want to go home!

Sweetie, Jason's
got ice cream, okay?

I don't want ice cream!
Hey, Bonnie.

I just want to go home!
Sounds like you have your hands full.

Oh, Stella.

Sorry.

My niece.

I volunteered to
help my sister out,

and what we thought would be
a fun little slumber party is basically a nightmare.

I apologize ahead of time
if we keep you up.

Good night.

Good luck.

Why don't you go
play with your doll?

Everybody out of the building!

It's a fire!Get out of the building!

Come on, people!Get out of the building!

Fire!

Go, go, go!

Get out! Go!

Hey, have you seen Bonnie?
No.

She lives over
here, uh,

blonde, she has a son
that's 11.

Everybody out of the building!

Bonnie!

Bonnie!

Bonnie?!

Bonnie!

Anybody in here?!

Jason, come here.
Jason, come on.

Where's your mother
and your cousin?

I don't know.
All right, just hold on and don't let go.

Come on.

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♪ Out here in the fields ♪

♪ I fight for my meals ♪

♪ I get my back into my living ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. ♪

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You'll be okay.

Bonnie?!

Jason!

Are you all right?

How could you just leave him
up there, Bonnie?

I thought you were right behind me on the fire escape.
What happened?

I couldn't see you.

I'm so sorry,
baby.

I didn't realize you weren't
there until I got down here.

They wouldn't let me go
back inside.

Where's your niece?

With the paramedics.

My sister's on her way.
Are you okay?

Are you sure
you're okay?

Yeah...
Are you sure?

Come on.

Hey.

The sprinkler systems
didn't work.

Here.

That's perfect.

So I got an extra room.

Thank you, Mac.

I think I'm better off
staying at a hotel.

I snore.

Looks like it's arson.

Fire investigators determined
the point of origin is down the hall.

And we got a victim.

Most significant burns
are to the front of the body.

Stell, it'd be hard to tell
who it is.

How many people lived
in this apartment?

Uh... just one,
I think.

A Sean...

I-I don't know his last name.

I met him in the elevator,

and then I think I saw him
again twice after that.

According to the building's
tenant manifest,

his last name's Nolan.

Lives alone; we're running
the name with the DMV.

Maybe he has a car.

We can see what's inside,
complete his story.

Nothing left in here
gives us any help.

Excuse me.

Yeah.

He was so close
to the door.

I can't imagine why he couldn't get out.

Flack said the fire started
in this apartment.

Everything is
pretty badly burned.

There's evidence
of heavy and low burns.

A flashover.

Most of the furniture looks like it
was incinerated in seconds.

And these burns
on the hardwood floor--

they look
like accelerant pour patterns.

You're thinking
Sean started the fire?

But if he did, it doesn't
add up;

he had plenty of time to make it
out of the building.

Which is why I'm thinking
someone else was here.

Maybe they had an
argument, it got physical.

Sean Nolan goes down,

the attacker starts
the fire and escapes.

Okay, but the fire
investigator said the door was bolted.

We found the vic's keys
on the table.

Can't bolt the door from the outside
without the keys.

So maybe our "somebody else"
didn't use the door.

The investigator said
that this window was open.

That's a long jump.

Not impossible to survive,

but somebody's walking around
with a broken tibia.

Our vic may be
the fire starter.

Sean Nolan was convicted
and served time

five years ago for arson.

Well, that might explain
our malfunctioning sprinkler system.

Maybe he tampered with it.

I see doubt.

Doesn't fit
the profile, Flack.

A guy starts a fire
and then sticks around?

Most arsonists like
to watch their work from across the street,down the block,

on the news.

Maybe this was Sean's idea
of the perfect suicide.

Messer.

Hey, it's me.

Hey.

How's Stella doing?
Is she okay?

Yeah, she's gonna be all right.

Well, you tell her if she needs
anything-- all right?--

I mean anything-- I'm there.

I'll tell her.

So, listen, I was thinking before your shift
maybe we could have lunch?

My turn to buy.

Actually,
I got to run to the bank,

I got to run
to the dry cleaners,

I got to...
bring my bike to the shop.

I've been meaning
to get it fixed.

Is everything okay?

What's wrong?

What are you talking about,
"What's wrong?"

Nothing's wrong.

I just, I just got
some stuff to do,

and, uh, I'll see you at work.All right?

Bye.

Maybe I should take a rain check
on Messer's famous omelet.

It sounds like you have a busy day.

No, no, no, this is something you don't
want to pass up.

This omelet is a masterpiece.

I'm making one for myself;

making two is like nothing.

Danny...

It's just a breakfast.Just breakfast, Rikki.

And last night was just sex.

Before my son died,

you were just a guy
that I smiled at in the hallway

and joked
with at the mailboxes.

What are we doing?

We're making each other
feel better, all right?

Because Ruben's gone.

There's nothing wrong
with that.

Danny...

One day, you're gonna
wake up and realize

that Ruben's death
wasn't your fault.

Yes, he was with you
when he was shot,

but it was an accident.

And me...

Can't you see that I'm
just taking advantage of the guilt you feel,

so that I don't have
to be alone?

I don't care.

I don't care 'cause I just
want this hurt to go away.

Don't you?

I really should go.
Okay, okay.

But this is my shirt,
all right?

I'm gonna need
my shirt back, okay?

Before you go...

I must tell you, I don't,
at this moment, have a C.O.D.

He didn't die
of smoke inhalation?

No, because your victim
didn't die in the fire.

The trachea was free
of any soot deposits.

That means he wasn't breathing,

which means he definitely
died before the fire.

And I ran DNA to confirm
that this was our arsonist--

no match in our database.

Well, he'd have to be in there--
he's a convicted felon.

Yes, but there's
a very good explanation.

Take a look
at the FastSCAN.

Brow ridge and
sinus cavity are small.

Your he is a she.

So this isn't the body
of Sean Nolan.

Exactly.

Then who is she,

♪♪♪

The body we found
in the apartment is a woman.

She was dead before the fire;
'cause of death, unknown.

Time of death?

The fire compromised all
physiological indicators establishing T.O.D.

Flack is checking Missing Persons
for a lead on the victim's identity.

He's also got an alarm
out on NYSPIN

and a wanted card
out on Sean Nolan.

Okay, so we're back to the evidence
we collected from the scene.

Sid's preliminary autopsy report
suggests our victim's age is

somewhere
between 30 and 40.

I wouldn't guess she died
of natural causes,

so our focus shifts
to foul play.

How you doing?
What'd I miss?

Perfect timing.

There's a lot of work to do.

Lindsay, catch Danny up.

Priority is the identity
of our female victim.

I want to know
who she is

and what's her connection
to our arsonist Sean Nolan.

It may help us
find him.

That fire may have been
a cover-up for murder.

Why don't you catch up
by reading this.

Yeah...

Is this real?

You think's someone's
in trouble?

I don't know, Adam.

You know, I found these in
my apartment after the fire.

The edges are singed
and the paper is burned,

so, clearly, they were were in the apartment
before the fire started.

And you don't recognize
the writing?

No.

Maybe it's from a friend?

Oh, and this "friend" wrote me
a note that said "Help me"?

Maybe you're a bad cook.

I'm-I'm just saying...

Uh, actually, Adam,

since I shot my boyfriend
two years ago,

I don't exactly have
people over.

Um... Well, maybe it's
from like, uh...

a maid, building maintenance,
gas company, doorman.

Nah, it doesn't
make any sense.

I mean, I-I found these
on the floor,

behind a piece of furniture.

If it hadn't fallen
apart when I moved it,

I would've never
have seen them.

If these notes
were intended for me,

then why were
they hidden?

"Please help me. Help my na..."

"my name," maybe?

Why don't you get a chemical
fingerprint of the ink,

see if you can find
a pen manufacturer.

Oh, and age the ink solvent.

Maybe that will tell me how
long ago these were written.

I'll let you know
what I find.

Oh, and, Stella?
Um...

I'm, uh...

I'm-I'm glad you're okay.

Thanks, Adam.

What do you see?

Goldfish?

They were in
Sean Nolan's apartment,

and these two little guys
are going to help us establish our vic's time of death.

If goldfish are
left in the dark

for an extended period of time,
their color starts to fade.

They're made up of cells called
chromatophores

that produce pigments
which reflect light

and give coloration.

These pigments are stimulated
by sunlight,

much the way a humans
tan in the sun.

Pale pink is the result of roughly
three to five days of darkness--

possibly
our vic's time of death.

So you're saying our vic was
dead in that apartment

at least two
days prior to the fire?

And Sean Nolan wasn't there
either?

The fish are faded.

Means no lights were turned on,
the blinds were closed.

Basically no signs of life.

We normally determine
time of death based on lividity,

but the fire compromised
the body.

So what are we thinking here?

Our arsonist killed our vic,
panics

takes off for a few days,
but knowing he has a dead body in his apartment,

he comes back and sets a fire?

It's murder--
it doesn't have to make sense.

Hawkes.

Okay, okay.
Let us know.

That's Flack.

He's got our arsonist,
Sean Nolan, in custody.

Boom!
A woman burned to death, Sean.

Her name is Marla Bronson.

She was taking care of my fish.

And killing her is
your way of saying thanks?

I'll say it again:
I have been in Boston

for the past week attending
an insurance convention.

It takes a second
to strike a match,

and less than an hour to get
back to Boston by plane.

Is that the story?
Did I figure it out?

You look a little nervous.

You just told me that someone
I cared about is dead.

And you're accusing me of taking her life,
which I did not do!

And I did not burn down
my own home!

This wasn't an amateur job,
Sean.

Somebody definitely knew
what he was doing.

What kind of accelerant
did you use?

Same as
the last fire?

Lighter fluid?

Your neighbors don't have
anywhere to live, Sean.

Some of them lost
everything they owned.

Did you watch
from across the street?

Did the fire excite you?

Maybe you were down the block,
in the high-rise,

watching the plumes
of black smoke.

I made a mistake in my past...

and I served my time!

I did not kill Marla,
and I did not start that fire,

and I am done talking to you.

One of your neighbors is
someone I care a lot about.

She no longer has a place
to live,

and she risked her life pulling a boy
out of that building

And when I prove
you did this,

you will answer to me.

Marla Bronson's death
is the result of a car accident.

I noticed small hairline
fractures

on both
her right and left thumbs,

roughly in the same place.

Fractures commonly caused
by the release of an airbag.

Right. The driver holds
onto the steering wheel,

airbag releases,
and the impact fractures

the proximal phalanx
of both hands.

But, Sid, nobody dies
from broken thumbs.

Official C.O.D. is massive
internal hemorrhaging.

This is Marla's
ruptured spleen.

The damage to her body
by the fire delayed my discovery.

Now, this, uh, tear
in the tissue suggests

that the impact was
pretty significant.

Despite that,
her death wasn't immediate.

Because someone can
suffer a ruptured spleen

and walk around for a couple days
and not even know it.

Which would explain
why she wasn't in a hospital.

So Marla had a car accident.

Days later, she collapsed
because she was hemorrhaging.

She was dead on the ground
in Nolan's apartment when the fire started.

And if we go
with my goldfish theory,

time of death was
roughly three days ago.

With that said, we can
confidently draw the conclusion

that not only didn't she die
in the fire,

but this is not a homicide.

But, Sid, if Sean Nolan didn't
start the fire

to cover up her murder,
what are we looking at here?

The fire didn't start
in Sean Nolan's apartment.

But there were accelerant
pour patterns, a flashover.

He's a suspect who's been
convicted of arson.

You're gonna have to have a pretty good defense
to counter that.

Exhibit A.

I took a sample of the floor

to determine the exact type
of accelerant used.

I found traces
of gasoline.

Now, I know there's no better
fuel to start a fire, right?

I also found

varnish on the wood,
so I took a surface sample--

no gasoline.

So the accelerant was
beneath the varnish?

Or... mixed in.

Sometimes gas is used
as a thinner for paints and varnishes,

and if burned, can be mistaken
for pour patterns.

And suddenly, we have
no evidence of accelerant.

What about the flashover
and the evidence

of heavy and low burns?

Exhibit B.

Most of the furniture
in Sean Nolan's apartment

was comprised
of polyurethane foam.

Which is highly flammable;
goes up in seconds.

It turned the apartment
into an incinerator.

And explains the flashover.

So if the fire didn't start
in Sean Nolan's apartment,

where'd it start?

I don't know.

Well, let's find out.

Nolan's apartment
sustained the most damage,

as well as the apartment
on the upper floor.

The adjacent apartment,
here, is vacant.

That's Bonnie
Dillard's apartment and mine.

And they both
sustained

significant damage.

Doesn't give us a lot

to work with and we still
don't have a motive.

So, what if a fire
started in the vacant apartment?

Okay,
let's try to prove that.

The exterior wall is brick.

It slows the fire.

And there's no furniture
or flammables

in this room to fuel the blaze.

Right, but wouldn't that explain

why the fire traveled
left and right?

Something's got to pull it
in some direction, Lindsay.

The vacant apartment was
the least damaged.

It's as if the flames just
skipped right over it.

You eliminated Sean Nolan's apartment,

Stella didn't start
the blaze.

That leaves
one option.

Bonnie Dillard's apartment.

Mac.

Found this cigarette lighter
under the bed.

I've got partial prints.

Bonnie's a smoker.

I can't believe she'd do
something like this.

Isn't this her son's room?

If the fire started in here,

why did it do the most damage

to Nolan's apartment,
which is further away?

A fire feeds on oxygen.
It searches for it.

The window in Nolan's apartment
must've been open.

The flames traveled through this air duct.

Lindsay, collect anything we can lift prints from
and get it back to the lab.

We should be able
to generate our own secondary reference sample

from items belonging
to Bonnie or Jason.

We'll compare them
to the partials on the lighter.

Someone in this apartment
started that fire.

Flack just called.

Bonnie Dillard didn't leave
a forwarding address with your super,

so he's going to
check all hotels,

bus and train
stations.

Linds, are you two seeing this?

You happen to have
a picture of Jason or Bonnie?

I didn't know them that well.

You know, maybe I could give a
description to a sketch artist.

Are you sure
this is right?

I ran it twice,
got the same result.

Doesn't make sense that this
print would match the partial

we found on the lighter.

It's completely unrelated.

You guys want to let us in
on this?

So far, none of the prints
we've lifted off the Dillards' personal items

have been a match to those we found
on the lighter.

So it wasn't Bonnie Dillard or
her son that started the fire.

So, we're back to our arsonist Sean Nolan?

No.

Partials on the lighter
are small.

They belong to a child.

To Bailey O'Dell.

The little girl
who's been missing?

How's that possible?

Her parents registered
her thumbprint

on our Safe Child database.
I don't want to go to bed.

I want to go home!
There's no question. It's a match.

£¿£¿
You want some ice cream?
I want to go home!

It was her.

Bonnie Dillard has her.

She said it was her niece.

You saw Bailey O'Dell?
No.

I heard her.

She was in Bonnie's apartment.

She was right next door.

I didn't see her.
I heard her.

She was saying
she wanted to go home.

How can we be
sure that

that was Bailey O'Dell?

Because that's the only
explanation

of how that little girl's prints
were on the lighter.

She was within my reach, Mac.
Right there.

I'll track down
the other tenants

in the building, see if they can give us anything.

I want a subpoena on Bonnie Dillard's entire life;
check with DMV on a vehicle.

I know she had a van-- silver.

Where does Bonnie work?

She's a... a florist.

Specialty place.

Does arrangements for hotels
and high-end parties.

I-I don't know the name
of the business.

What about Jason's school?

Any clubs,
after-school activities?

I moved in
two years ago.

I didn't make an effort
to get to know anyone.

Hallway relationships.

Bonnie ever talk
about her family?

She never mentioned a sister
until last night,

and clearly that was a lie.

To tell you the truth,

I don't even know if Bonnie
Dillard's her real name.

Right here.

There we go.

Let's try this.

Blonde woman, uh, five-eight.

She has a son.

He's 11 years old.

His name is Jason.

Jason Dillard.

Well, let me make it simpler:

Is there any male child,

11 years old, who's absent
from school today?

We have a sketch
that we can fax over.

No, I get it.

Thank you.

There, that's her van coming
out of the building's garage.

That's definitely Bonnie.

Let's see if we can get
the plate.

We got it; we'll set up
an Amber Alert.

Thanks, Hawkes.

Thank you.

I'm going to get
some coffee.

You want some coffee?

No.

Thanks.

How long are you going to
stay mad at me, Linds?

Oh, is that what this is?

Me mad at you?

Is this still about missing
your birthday?

Look, I didn't want to go
to lunch yesterday.

Why do you got to make
such a big deal out of it?

Do me a favor, Danny--

don't reduce me to some shallow,
clingy girlfriend

that's starting
to suffocate you,okay?

That's not what this is about.

Ever since
Ruben Sandoval died...

...I feel like
I've lost my best friend.

And don't mistake this
for jealousy, okay?

I know what it's like to lose
someone you care about.

To see them one day
and then not see them the next,

and to know you're never going
to see them again.

I would never expect you
not to grieve.

But clearly, you know,

you've just decided to do it
all on your own.

Okay.

I get it.

My mistake for thinking that you
might need somebody to lean on.

And you know, for the record,
I'm not mad at you.

I'm mad at myself.

Because I've fallen in love
with you

and I have to figure out
how to let that go.

We found Bonnie's van.

It appears
to be abandoned.

Now, Flack posted
unis at the scene,

just in case
she comes back.

I sent a crew
to process it.

Hopefully,
they'll find something

that'll lead us back
to Bailey O'Dell.

What about Jason Dillard?
Where is he?

There was a tenant
in the building

who actually knew
what school he went to.

He hasn't been there
in over a week.

Even before the fire.

I think Bonnie
has him with her.

But he's already
a troubled kid.

I can't imagine
what he's thinking now.

He's troubled
in what way?

When I first moved
into my apartment,

he made a hole in the grout of an adjacent
brick wall.

What the...?

What the heck?

Hey.

Where is it, Jason?

I don't know.

Boy stuff, right?

He could see right through
to my bedroom.

He's just 11 years old.

So much of this case
doesn't make any sense.

How does the fire play
into all of this?

And why does a six year-old
little girl

even know how
to use a lighter?

What?

For the last two days, I've
been trying to figure out

how to gingerly tell you
to sit this one out--

go deal with the loss
of your home,

take care of yourself--
but I realize now

what a total waste of my breath that
would have been.

Hey, guys.

Bonnie Dillard called
her insurance company

about issuing a check
for the damage to her apartment.

She give an address?

She requested they call her
when the check was ready

and she'd pick it up.

It's an ongoing arson investigation;

they won't process claims
for at least another two weeks.

Or maybe with a little
encouragement from us,

they can do it sooner.

Mm! My man's getting sneaky.

Have the insurance
company call Bonnie Dillard,

tell her to pick
her check up in an hour.

It's always the greed
that gets them.

Danny, there she is.

Print green shirt,
brown pants, sunglasses,

heading towards
the insurance building.

You approach her.
I'll cut her off.

Bonnie?

Hey, how you doing?
Do I know you?

Uh, no. Not yet.

Don't move!

Where is she, Bonnie?

Where's Bailey O'Dell?

Come on, Bonnie--
you abandoned your own son in that fire

because you knew you had
to hide that little girl before the police arrived.

Her face was all
over the news.

You knew we'd know who she was.

Where is she?

I believe I have the right
to remain silent.

Come on.

Where are you keeping
Bailey O'Dell?

You know, I don't
understand this.

My home just burned down,

my son was almost killed
in the fire,

my niece is sick from the smoke.

She's not your
niece, Bonnie.

You took this little girl
from her family

and they want her back!

Well, they can't have her back.

Why not?

Because she's much happier
where she is now.

And where is that, Bonnie?

Someplace beautiful
and peaceful.

Better than with them.

They're divorced,
you know.

Her mother's a single parent.

She works part-time
at my floral shop.

Brings the kid in when she can't
get a babysitter.

It was so easy to take her

'cause she knew me already.

When I was pregnant,
they told me

I shouldn't be a single mother.

They said a child
should have two parents.

When you were pregnant with Jason?

No.

This was before Jason.

And you gave the baby up for adoption?

They took her from me.

Bonnie, don't take this
little girl from her family.

It's done!

They're not getting her back.

Just tell me where she is.

Is Jason with her?

Shouldn't I have a lawyer?

I mean, I'm not sure
I should say anything more.

Stella?

Is Bonnie Dillard capable
of murder?

If you'd asked me a week ago,

if I thought she could abduct
a child I'd have said no.

And now?

I think she's capable
of anything.

I think I might
have a possible lead

on where Bonnie Dillard is
holding Bailey O'Dell;

it's just a lead, though.
We'll take whatever we can get.

Sandplain gerardia.

It's a pollen grain that
fell off Bonnie's clothing.

She's a florist.

It makes sense to find
that kind of trace.

Right, but this
particular pollen

comes from the only federally protected
endangered plant species in all of New York state.

In fact, six of the 12

natural populations
in the world are in Long Island.

So we go to Long Island.

No, because I don't think that's where
this pollen originated.

I found traces
of a chemical toxin.

Now, the plants in Long Island,

they're not only endangered, they're
federally protected.

There's no way
they would let a toxin

interfere with the growth of the plant.

So it means this plant is growing
somewhere else in New York.

Illegally.

So it's illegal to grow this plant?

Well, somebody had to steal a protected plant

to grow it outside
of Long Island.

They could be
federally prosecuted,

which is why I'm having
trouble locating it.

Anybody who would know
anything isn't talking.

So I made a few scientific,
educated assumptions.

Now, wherever these plants are,
they're near a factory.

That makes sense--

the toxins are carried by
the wind,

deposited over the plants.

I've cross-referenced all the factories emitting
that same toxin

with any vacant lots,

empty buildings,
greenhouses in the city.

I can't promise anything,

but I'm keeping
my fingers crossed.

What do you want to do?

Well, let's hope Lindsay
gets us something.

In the meantime, we go with
the only thing we've got:

Bonnie Dillard in custody.

We got to get her to tell us

where she's holding
that little girl.

Lindsay...

I'm sorry.

We should-- we should talk.

We have a rooftop address.

Get Stella.

Stella!We've got a lead on the little
girl that was missing.

Adam, can I catch up
with you later?

No. No, look, okay.You need to know this.
I'm not playing around.

All right, you got 15 seconds.

The notes you gave me
were written approximately

two years ago by an ordinary,
everyday ink pen.

Oh, there better be more.

I decided to look a little closer
and I found

traces of quartz,
clay, limestone and gypsum.

Brick mortar.

The mortar acted
as a developer

of several latent prints that otherwise would have evaporated.

Okay, so now I got
a bunch of prints,

and what am I supposed to do but
run them through the database.

Got no hits on any
criminal activity,

but they were a match to
the prints that Lindsay

and Hawkes lifted from the items
in Bonnie Dillard's apartment.

Which items?

Football, basketball, iPod.

These prints belong
to Jason Dillard.

He wrote those notes, Stella.
He wrote "Help me."

She took him, too.

Hey, Mac.

Hold your fire!

Did you write these?

I am so sorry, Jason.

I just found them yesterday.

And now I realize

what a terrible, terrible
mistake I made.

I accused you of something
that wasn't true, and...

you were just pushing
these notes through the wall

because you needed my help.

Oh, I'm so sorry
I never got them.

I really am.
That's okay.

I found out my first mom
didn't want me anyway.

Who told you that? Bonnie?

Am I going to jail?

For what?

That dead body.

You and Bailey started the fire.

She was scared and wanted
to go home.

I thought the fire
would be a good idea

because the police would come.

I didn't want
to burn anybody.

Of course you didn't.

No, Jason, you're not
going to jail, okay?

Is Jason your real name?

No, just pretend.

What'd your first mom call you?

Austin Tanner.

I like that name.

Me, too.

You're going to be okay, Austin.

Austin will be
a bit confused.

He's been told that
you don't want him.

And he believes that woman
who took him rescued him.

She used words to gain
his trust and love.

He never ran away because

she convinced him there was
no place to run to.

It'll probably take awhile
for him to show affection

and he'll want to know why
you never came to get him.

Children believe their parents
can do anything.

So, saying you
couldn't find him

or you tried everything,

just may not be enough.

Just be patient, Ms. Tanner.

I will.

He's coming home.

Austin Tanner was reunited
with his family today,

after four years
as a kidnap victim.

Let me look at you.

Let me look at you.Oh, my God!

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