02x08 - The Hurt Stalker

Liv: Previously on iZombie...

I don't think it's a good idea for us to mix business with whatever it is we were doing.

I know all the reasons it can't work but I don't care, I want us to be together again.


If we're gonna make any real headway with the Super Max recipe, we need the DNA of a coherent functional zombie.


Oh my god, are you okay?

I'm fine.

Hey, you! Didn't know you existed outside the station.

Liv, Major, this is Agent Bozzio from the FBI.

Seems like romance is in the air.

Regina: I find it fascinating that we never talk about your love life.

[Toaster popping]

Morning, stranger.

Hangover cure?

Just a weird craving. [Chuckles]

At least it's not hollandaise sauce, right?

So, where have you been sleeping, young lady?

At my, uh, boyfriend's.


Since when do you have a boyfriend?

I used to be engaged to him. So he kinda had a head start.


So that's happening, huh?

I mean, he's still quality, grade-a boyfriend material.

Barely used.

Of course.

Sorry. I had the worst experience trying to pick things back up with an ex.

What happened?

Oh, after a few glorious weeks, we realized all the things that broke us up hadn't really gone away.

But I'm sure you guys'll be great.

I gotta run.

[Car door locks]


Do I know you?

You brought this on yourself.


Stay away from...

[Regina grunting]

[Regina screams]

Help! Help!




[Both screaming]

Whoever you are, you messed with the wrong woman.




Man: Get in the car. Get in the car!

Regina Sumner. Thirty-three.

She's a wedding planner who rents office space in the building.

No camera in the garage. No witnesses.

Killer left her wallet and her purse.

Ravi: See these bruises?

Uh, looks like the killer punched her before shooting her.

Oh, what did I miss?

Well, well, well. Look who finally bothered to show up.

[Groans] Don't start. I've had the worst morning.

Yeah? Worse than hers?


Are you okay?

I know her.

We used to date.

I'm so sorry, Clive. That's awful.

Found the gun under a car. It's a 9 millimeter Beretta.

Tsk... it's my gun.

[Theme song playing]

Super Max taste test.

Glass A, bubblegum with, [inhales] ooh, hint of mint.

And glass B, yellow.

Yellow isn't a flavor.

And you're not listening to me.

Uh, yes, I am.

Our zombie hunter is sleeping with your zombie roommate.

Looks like you'll be spending little more time at your pied-à-terre.

Come on, sample. Sample.

I value your key demo input.


Ugh. Mystery solved.

Yellow represents its urine flavor.

Can you register some concern with my news?

You had me move in with her, so you wouldn't get blind-sided by this sort of thing.

Stay on task, sweetie.


Go with the urine-flavor.

So the thought of a zombie who works for the police and hates you, finding out we're killing zombies really isn't worth worrying about?

Okay, so you really think she's going to go to all her cop buddies, and say, "Hey, everyone! Zombies exist!"

"Let's go arrest all those guys who rid the city of zombies."



Or maybe she just gets hungry one night and decides to eat you.

Oh, as I know you've already redecorated my office in your mind, you can only hope.

I'll be going with a mid-century vibe.

Desk facing north. Warhol originals.

Your elon musk bobble-head in the trash.


Woman on PA: Vaughn. They're ready for you in the lab.

[Sighs] I got the brains.

We both got the looks. Let's make lots of money.

Look. Major has killed, by my count, eight zombies.

His last three, quote-unquote innocent zombies.

You think that's something you tell the zombie you love?

Besides, I think I know the guy better than you.

You do, huh?

Sure, he's training me four days a week.

He was a bit of a Debbie Downer at first, but he's coming around.

We have some legit man-to-mans on back-and-bi's day.


Anyway, I'm an irresistible force.

[Elevator bell dings]

[Soft growling]

I think you'll be pleased.

The blood sample Rita provided us was the key.

What? Who is this? Where's Dr. Erving?

Oh, lab accident.

Dr. Lockett's getting his big break.

[Sighs] They're like drummers for spinal tap.

[Beeps] Man: We're ready for the Super Max.

Dr. Lockett: As you can see, the test subject is struggling to keep up at three miles per hour.

But once the Super Max enters the blood stream...

The results are immediate.


We can crank the treadmill up as high as nine miles per hour.

Endurance and strength also sky rocket.


Du Clark: Woah.

I'm impressed.

Considering how little cash your typical member of the undead carries, when will we be seeing these results with a human?

Well, I'm still looking for a volunteer on my team.

Seeing as how we're still not sure.

If we've eliminated the violent side effects.

No need.

I think I've got somebody in mind.

Please don't be a 9 millimeter.

Please don't be a 9 millimeter. [Sighs]

9 millimeter.

Not a good day for Team Babineaux.

It gets worse.

Detective Cavanaugh is on the case.

Detective Cavanaugh?

That weasel-faced kiss-ass?

He'd waterboard his own mom if it meant making lieutenant.

To make lieutenant?

[Ravi groans]

C'mon. I'm not a monster.

Now, for captain's bars?

I'd go full Gitmo on the old biddy. [Tongue clicking]

Give me all the gory details.

The victim suffered blows to the face.

It was the gunshot wound in the back that was fatal.

The bullet matches the weapon found at the scene.

The gun registered to one Clive Babineaux?

You can't possibly think Clive did this.

Well, I'm just dispassionately looking at the facts.

Babineaux was romantically involved with the deceased.

She was killed with his gun.

He has no alibi. And here's the kicker. The vic's phone.

Clive: This stops now, Regina.

Don't call. Don't text.

Don't show up at my place.

If you continue to harass me or anyone I care about, I promise, this won't end well for you.

Now, can anyone in the class tell me what that is?

Huh? Uh, oh. Why, it's motive, Mr. Cavanaugh!

He left the message one hour before Regina was killed.

If this case were any easier, I'd have slept with it in college.

So what do they really have?

Nothing but a murder weapon registered to Clive.

And a recorded threat directed at the victim from Clive.

And so what if he doesn't have an alibi?

I don't have an alibi for her murder, either.


No. Wait. I do have an alibi.

Witnesses, too. Airtight, really.

So we can cross you off the list. That's good.

I'm just gonna eat this brain for fun.

Clive doesn't even need our help.

Might as well plan your wedding to Major.

While you're on this wedding planner brain. Kill two birds.

I just had a thought.


What if you have a vision of having s*x with Clive? [Gasps]

You might see his o-face.

Really? That's where your mind goes?

I bet it's super angry.

[Loud groaning]


Who did it?

[Footsteps approaching]

Agent Bozzio.

Ah, first names, please.

Dale, uh...

This is my boss, Ravi Chakrabarti.

Ravi... Dale.

How's Clive doing?

I only got to talk to him for five minutes.

They've had him in interrogation most of the day.

He wanted me to show you this.

The, uh, dead girl, what's her name?

Regina Sumner.

She left that on my doorstep last night.

It's worse than we thought. Clive was married to the girl.

He does always blame the spouse.

That's a mostly photoshopped history of a mostly fictional relationship.

He only went out with her a few times.

The woman was an obsessive stalker, crazier than an outhouse rat.

Oh, no, Liv.


You okay?

I, uh, just feel something coming on.

Maybe you should try to go throw up or something?

No. I've gotta be strong for Clive.

Wedding announcement. Save the date.

Ravi: Wait. That doesn't look photoshopped.

Dale: Oh, it's not.

Clive plays piano?

Beautifully. He's got one in his living room.

You've never been to his place?


Clive has a strict church and state policy.

With regards to his work and personal life.

Clive cooks?

Cajun cuisine mainly.

His grandmother on his father's side taught him.

No! It can't be...

Oh, yeah. Clive's a huge Game of Thrones fan.

You want to really set him off?

Yes, please.

Ask him what George R.R. Martin is doing right now.

[Gasps] We don't know this man at all.

Maybe he is a murderer.

We should check his basement for human remains.


Oh, this one's clearly photoshopped.

Clive's hands aren't white.

At this point, anything is possible.

Clive asked me to bring this by, he thought it might spark one of your, uh...



Can you leave it with me? They don't happen on command.

I've gotta hand it over to Detective Cavanaugh, or it might be viewed as obstruction.

Worth a shot.

So, fatal attraction brain. That's gonna be fun.

I don't feel anything at all.

Hey, would it be weird if I got minor a tiny Seahawks jersey.

And on the back it said, "Ruff L. Wilson"?

Who's the bitch using your shower?


Or did you suddenly switch to Sinful Diva shampoo?

"For the shine that gets him to notice you"?

Oh. That's Ravi's. Smell it.


It does smell like Ravi.

Are you okay?

I'm going to plead temporary insanity.

Hey, a little jealousy makes a guy feel wanted.

[Cell phone chimes]

Little late for a text, isn't it?

But let's not overplay it.

Liv: This isn't you, Liv. It's the brain.

You know this.

Put the phone down and get back in bed.

You don't know his pass code, anyway.


Or maybe this is a sign.



Who's Rita?

You went through my phone?

"Yesterday was so hot."

"Hope there were no security cameras in that elevator."

I can't believe that you...

Here's another good one.

"Three rounds in one night. That's my kind of triathlon."

Give me back my phone.

"You up?" She sent that one the night that you showed up at my place begging for help.

I'm so glad I could be there for you when your booty call fell through.

Or did you come to my place after?

That's not what happened.

Oh, or should we give Rita a call?

Put her on speaker, maybe get some confirmation.

Don't, don't do that.

Answer the question! Who's Rita?

She was meaningless.

All right, she, she threw herself at me during a real low point.

And it ended the moment that we got back together.

Wait, [Stuttering] I don't deserve this.


It's this brain I'm on.

Apparently the woman was an unhinged stalker. I didn't know when I ate it.

Going through my phone was not okay.

It won't happen again.

I can fight this.

[Inhales deeply] I'm already late for work.



You have a safe in your closet?

You're back.

I didn't like how we left things, so I came back to apologize.

When did you get the safe?

I got it when a giant zombie broke into my place last year.

Open it, please.


Why not?

Because you just promised you'd fight the brain.

Prove you meant it.

[Sighs] I meant it. I'm sorry.


His nostrils are flaring.

Tell me if fire actually comes out of them.

Can you read lips?

I don't have to.

When a cop makes the front page of the newspaper as a murder suspect, that cop's getting suspended.

Don't worry your pretty little head.

Ravi and I? We've got this.

We do?

You got what?

This. You! You're in good hands.

Vision here. Vision there.

Some good old-fashioned police work.

Bibbity bobbity boo. You're cleared of all charges.

No. Not happening.

If you happen to have a vision that solves the case, take it to Cavanaugh.

If they find you're out there on your own poking around, we'll all go down.

Like Robb Stark.

We're gonna help.

You want us flying blind, or maybe you wanna open up, this once?

Just give us some basic details.


How'd you and Regina meet?

At a wedding a few months ago. She was the wedding planner.

We hit it off. Went out a few times.

She fell for you, but you, big man, couldn't be tied down.

You broke her heart.

Why? The intimacy?


I'm not talking about what went on between the sheets.

I'm talking about emotional intimacy.

Two people connecting. Falling in...

She was a badge bunny.

A what?

A badge bunny.

A woman who sleeps with cops.

Something about the badge turns them on.

I have a badge.

All she wanted to talk about was my job.

She wanted details on the cases.

She wanted me wearing my holster when we were, uh, intimate.

She wanted to hold my gun.


That's when I ended things.

And that's when things got really crazy.

Uh, phone calls in the middle of the night.

Emails. Texts.

She wanted closure.

Why is that so hard for men to understand?

How'd she get your gun?

Stolen from my place the night before her murder.

She wanted to have something you touched against her skin.

Whose side are you on?

Chief Price: Babineaux.

Let's see if taking your badge away cheers me up.

Come on.

Regina was suing a client.

She made it sound like it was pretty ugly.

I'd start there.

If Cavanaugh hears anyone else from the Seattle pd is questioning witnesses, we'll all be collecting unemployment together.

Che dothras, che* drivos.

What does that mean?

He knows.

Karma Cleaners & Alterations. This is the place.

Regina planned the owner's wedding, and then sued for unpaid fees.

But remember, we don't know that.

All right, what's the plan?

We'll wing it. You ready to do this?

Yes, and...

And what?

"Yes, and... " It's the first rule of improv?

It's what keeps the scene moving forward.

Try not to talk. You willing to hold my hand?

Yes. And...

Hey there. How can I help you?

I'm Julie Walker and this tall drink of water is my fiance.

Shawarma Parachanchetabarka.

We've just started wedding planning.

We're thinking of hiring Regina Sumner, her assistant gave us a list of references.

Uma and Matthew Voss, owners of Karma Cleaners, were on it.

Well, I'm Uma.

They listed me as a reference?

I guess nothing should surprise me about that woman.

Anyway, you're in luck. She was murdered.


That's terrible.

My husband and I spent our life savings on that wedding, and Regina was totally incompetent.

We fired her before the actual event, but she still showed up in the middle of the reception, drunk off her ass.

Made a pass at my husband and puked on my dress.

Then she had the nerve to sue us for unpaid services.

That's awful.

Hey, honey.


This is my husband, Matthew.

This is Julie and her fiancé...

Can you remind me your name again?

Yes, and...

Everyone just calls him Brando.

Brando, I'm Matthew Voss.

Matthew. Or Mr. Voss. Not baby.

Not sugar. Not lover.

Regina: Baby...

You're sending this to my wife?

I told you, we're over. We're done.



How'd you get away with not buying your girl a rock?


I just... I'm picky.

I want something unique, memorable.

Ooh, like your ring!

Thank you.

It was my grandmother's. It's one of a kind.

Liv: Aw.

Uma: You be safe out there, baby.

Regina was having an affair with Matthew.

I knew it! That badge bunny!

In my vision, Matthew was holding.

A scrapbook that looked just like olive's, and he said he couldn't believe she'd send it to Uma.

We know Clive didn't kill his stalker, but maybe Matthew did.

Exactly. He was yelling at Regina and then, he tossed the scrapbook.

Over a railing covered in padlocks.

That's love locks bridge! Couples put up locks.

As a symbol of their everlasting love.

We should go find that scrapbook.

Can I have my hand back now?

Die with the con, Liv.

Liv: No, it's Voss. V-O-S-S.

He's a beat cop at the 12th.

All morning?

You're sure? Okay, thanks.


It was down there!

Nicely done.

Just the same as olive's, but with Matthew's face.

Photoshopped into the pictures.

See? Another fake save the date.


The same wedding photo.

Most importantly, no water damage.

It was raining a few days ago, so your vision must have been recent.

I think Matthew could be our guy.

No. He can't.

What? Why?

I already called the dispatcher from the 12th precinct.

Matthew was on a call at the time of the murder.

You could have led with that.

Look, this photo again.

Matthew's face photoshopped onto the same body as Clive's.

So who is our original guy?

I don't know. But I'll bet his initials are W.P.

You had a vision?


Etched on this padlock with a heart. RS plus CB.

Regina Sumner plus Clive Babineaux.

RS plus MV?

Regina Sumner and Matthew Voss.

RS plus WP.

So, it seems Regina took N.W.A's biggest hit literally.

I ran the plates to the SUV.

And it belongs to someone in the Seattle PD.

It's an official police vehicle.

The badge bunny strikes again.

Who's our mystery cop?

No clue.

The Seattle PD own a thousand SUVs, and there's no online record as to which cop drives which vehicle.

Then it's another dead end.

For the time being. But then I asked myself...

[Keyboard clacking]

What if this car was parked outside Major's all night, and I wanted to find out who the nasty ho was who owned it.

Ravi: "Friends at seattlecyclers.com."

"Last week during the Chilly Hilly Bike race, the driver of a black SUV, pissed because he had to slow down for cyclists, plowed through our group, running us off the road.

Later, when we stopped for lunch, the SUV doubled back and ran over our bikes.

Below is his plate number. If you see the vehicle, tweet me its location.

He needs to be taught a lesson.

I'm impressed, and frightened.

You don't mess with Seattle cyclers.

Hmm, or Liv Moore on stalker brain.

[Keyboard clacking]

Oh, you like Major's post about the state cutting funding for homeless shelters.

I see right through you, lady.

[Keyboard clacking]

[Door opens]

Liv: Hey.

Well, look who's home for once.

Liv: You slut!


What are you doing?

Making a list of all the women who comment or post on Major's Facebook entries.

This is bad, huh?

It isn't good. Why?

I started out just looking for one name.

But once I started poking around, I started noticing all these chicks throwing themselves at my man.

Oh, "so true, Major. Violence is bad."

"Keep fighting the good fight."

Classic whore line.

"A bunch of us are going out for karaoke. You should come with."

Toss your panties at him, Jezebel.

Wow! [Snorts]

Who were you originally looking for?

Some slut named Rita. She sent him all these desperate texts.

"Come do me, Major."

He showed these to you?

I found them on his phone.

Bold move.

Did you confront him?

He said this desperate Rita chick threw herself at him.

When he was at a real low point.

What am I doing?

This isn't me. I'm not this girl.

[Whispering] Major doesn't deserve this.

I don't know.

Sounds to me like he deserves to be punished.

All the responses to my cycling post.

Are just people sharing their own horror stories about drivers.

It hasn't even been 24 hours.

Clive: [Chuckles] Finally. Some friendly faces.

I just met with my union rep.

Good news, if I'm convicted of murder, I won't have to pay dues.

I brought dinner, po' boys if anyone's interested.

Yes! Don't leave town, yeah.

Po' boys? Are those from that Cajun place near your house?

Yeah. You two love that place, right?

We do! We should all go there some time.

It's really more of a takeout joint.


What's it called? You never told us.

Uh... Grandma's.


I'm pleased to see the two of you still work here.

It means you haven't gotten yourselves suspended for doing anything silly.

Define silly.

Mouth on fire!

Oh, sorry. That one was for Liv.


Hmm. Mine's a little uninspiring. How's yours?

I'm neither overwhelmed, or underwhelmed. I guess I'm whelmed.

Liv: Hmm.

Grandma must have lost her touch.

All right. I hope the two of you have enjoyed yourselves.

And the last two Grandma's po' boys you'll ever consume.


Why did you keep it a secret?

You figured shaft never cooked for his friends, so neither could you?

It's adorable.

And there it is. Need I say more?

Yeah, I figured I'd find you down here.

So. Who took it?

Took what?

The evidence from my desk.

I didn't take anything from your desk, Cavanaugh.

Neither did we.

Oh, bummer.

I was hoping we could have an open and honest discussion and then maybe, hug it out.

Exactly what sort of evidence do you believe we've stolen?

Nice try.


It's your careers. Enjoy civilian life.

Or jail.

What did I tell you about making this worse for me?

I have no idea what he was talking about.

Everything we've done so far has been completely by the book.

[Cell phone vibrates]

[Mumbles incoherently]

Ah! Jackpot! We've got a hit.

I'm gonna need a slim jim, a black hoodie and a head lamp.

What exactly...

The less you know, the better.



What's George R.R. Martin up to right now?

Not writing.

[Indistinct talking]

Liv: Bingo!

Come on. Come on. Who are you?

[Car door unlocks]

[Car door opens and closes]

[Engine starting]

[Cell phone rings]

Chief Walt Price speaking.

It's Detective Cavanaugh here. I'm afraid I've got some bad news.

That evidence I told you about? The scrapbook?

It's gone missing. Babineaux must've gotten to it.

Damn it, Cavanaugh! How the hell did you let that happen?

It was in my desk, someone could've...

You're killing me, Cavanaugh.

If that scrapbook gets out, it will end my marriage.

Call me when you've found it.

[Cell phone chimes]

[Tires screeching]

You're in a world of trouble, young lady.

Get comfortable.

Chief of police says, uh, you're gonna be with us a while.

Female prisoner: Fresh meat!

Um... I have some dietary requirements.

Can a doctor bring me my meals?


When would you like your masseuse to swing by?

Yo, guard. Where's my masseuse?

I'm guessing a private cell is out of the question?

It's a safety thing.

You'll be fine.

I know I'll be fine.

Female prisoner: Hey! You talk to my pd about my case, yet?

I've got rights. Cops busted me for weed, but I've been arrested for that before.

That's double jeopardy!

You can't charge me for the same crime twice! This is America!


How are you feeling?


I hadn't eaten since my first helping.

Channeling a crazy stalker hasn't exactly been good for my love life.

They won't let me bring you any...

... sustenance.

I know.

You're not getting out until Monday morning.

Chief W.P. is making sure of that.

They've made it pretty clear to me.

Major is down in Ellensburg at a basketball tournament with his team.

He hasn't returned my call yet.

Don't tell him I'm in here.


There's nothing Major can do. He'll be back tomorrow night.

He won't be happy with us.



Hmm, got some interesting news back from the lab.

Turns out there were two different blood types at the crime scene.

One of them belonged to Regina.

They're going to take blood from Clive to see if it's a match.

It won't be.


But it won't necessarily exonerate him.

We get eight more minutes.

What do you want to talk about?

Oh, what's the best American album of all time?

I say, it's Pet Sounds, by the Beach Boys.

Can we just sit here?

Eight minutes of silence is just what the doctor ordered.


Female prisoner: Weed's legal in this state.

In case you ain't heard, I'm a law-abiding citizen.

It's a war on the poor. I bet if I had a real lawyer, instead of one of those, "one will be be appointed to you" public defenders, ya'll all be singing a different tune.

[Whispering] Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Six ounces! Six ounces! And my doctor prescribed it.

[Chanting] Ferguson! Ferguson!

Female prisoner 2: Go girl, you tell 'em.

Oh, baby. We need to get you out of there.

12 more hours. I can make it.

I worry about you.

Well, I'm likely unemployed now, so...

Silver lining, my inner stalker has left the building.

You can invite some girls over tonight.

Play some Twister. See if I care.

These girls I'm inviting over? I'm warning you, they're basically adult film stars.

And not even the under contract ones.

I'm talking the anything goes kind.

I'll be here when they let you out.

I can't wait.

[Heavy snoring]


Female guard: Olivia Moore?

You've been released.


[Gate opening]

There she is!


Yeah, that smoothie is for you.

They let you out a few hours earlier than expected.

Major's all the way across town, so I offered to pick you up.

Plus, I knew you'd be, uh, peckish.

So much better. Thank you.

Oh, who am I...

Oh, all we had on hand was leftover Regina.

I figured it was better than starting the apocalypse.

To you and me, maybe.

Not sure Major will feel the same.

I tore this out of the scrapbook I found in the back of Price's car.

I only had a few seconds so I just went for the back page.

See? It's Price in the original shot.

Hold on.

Regina's ring. Is that...


Unique? Memorable?

One of a kind.

Let's go solve this case.

Major: Come on, bossman. Two more.


[Du Clark panting]


[Man grunting]

Yeah we get it, we get it, big boy. You're working hard.

Hate to break it to you, you being the owner of the company and all, but, all that sugar and caffeine in energy drinks just makes you crash.

Super Max is no energy drink, my friend.

It's a revolution in liquid form.



Max it out.

Why? You were burnt out on a half stack.

I got Super Max coursing through my veins, my friend.

I'm TNT. I'm dynomite.

Major: All right.

[Clears throat]

As your trainer, I can't recommend that...

[Du Clark groans continuously]

[Laughs and groans]

Look in my bag.

Those are for you. In case you need a leg up during your night job.

I'll give it a try.

Whoo! Ah!

If you take nothing else away from our time together, let it be this...

[Man grunting]

Grunt again! Grunt again!

Grunt again, you big baby!

Hi. Is the owner around?

I'm the co-owner. Something I can help you with?

Uh, we're looking for Uma Voss.

Oh yeah, that's my sister. She's in the back. I'm Karl.

Karma Cleaners. Karl, Uma.

Karl: You get it?

Hey there, more wedding questions?

The devil's in the details.

What happened to your neck?

I, uh, got in an accident.

What kind of accident?

Who wants to know?

Senior medical examiner, Ravi Chakrabarti.

We're investigating the murder of Regina Sumner.

Any idea why we have several photographs of your murdered wedding planner.

Wearing your engagement ring?

It seems the killer was wounded during the attack.

We'd love to get some blood samples from the two of you.

You know, just to cross you off the list of suspects.

Your brother seems to have some place he needs to be.

[Radio starts playing]

Come on. Come on.

[Karma Chameleon playing on radio]

Here's what I don't understand.

You found out about your husband's affair a week before the wedding.

And that's why you fired her.

But you married him anyway.

So what happened?

You get the scrapbook in the mail.

All these photos of Regina cavorting with your husband, and you decide, that bitch has got to die?

Why not kill your husband?

He's the one who promised in front of friends and family to be faithful.

He was faithful. That scrapbook was fiction.

We know they had an affair.

They slept together a couple times.

But it was before the wedding. Matthew confessed to it.

He's been faithful ever since.

So why'd you kill her?

The why is easy.

Regina slept with her husband, stole her grandmother's wedding ring, filed a lawsuit against her, then sent her a scrapbook rubbing her nose in it.

I didn't kill her.

Fair enough.

Why did you have your brother kill her?

It's his blood at the crime scene.

He's not talking, though.

That's a loyal brother.

You gonna let him spend the rest of his life in prison?

I didn't know Regina was the one who stole my engagement ring.

I only found out after she sent me that scrapbook.

The plan was never to kill her.

Uma: I just wanted to scare her, get her to stop harassing me and get my ring back.

[Karl screaming]

Karl was going to slap her around, put the fear of god in her.

But then, she pulls out a knife.

Regina: Whoever you are, you messed with the wrong woman.

[Gun shot]


Uma: She was going to kill my brother.

Liv: But you returned to her body.

Long enough to pull your ring off Regina's dead body.

Clive: You sure you want her badge?

That's a lot of police work for an assistant M.E.

All's well that ends well, right?


No police involvement. No one needs to know about that third scrapbook.

Hmm. [Snickers]

Yeah, well, you know what they say, happy wife, happy life.

Get it all down.

The length of your brother's sentence probably depends on it.

That guy you came in with, is he really your fiancé?


Every man cheats.

They can't help themselves.

[Uma scribbling]

[Chuckles] Wait till you see the pictures of the kids with their trophies.


[Sighs] What're you doing, Liv?

There's something in there that's going to break my heart. I can feel it.

I thought this brain was wearing off.

I was starving when I got out of jail, and stalker brain was all we had on hand.

I know you're in there. Somewhere.

How do we fix this?

You open the safe.

You promised you'd fight it.

I tried and I lost.

I'm begging you. Open the safe.



Liv: My engagement ring.

I thought for sure you'd sold that when I gave it back to you.

I couldn't stand the idea of anyone else ever wearing it.

Besides, I never gave up hope that you'd want it back.

[Cell phone vibrating]