Hey! Hey, Rob.
Rob McCann?
Yes?
Victim's Robert McCann.
He took one to the heart at 10:34.
Pretty specific time of death.
Yeah.
Two citizens heard sh*ts fired
and called 911.
We don't usually get called
to the party for a sh**ting.
This isn't just a sh**ting.
It's way bigger than that.
Black victim and...
"vermin."
Written in the guy's blood.
We're thinking maybe
we have a hate crime here.
Yeah, you were right to call
and loop us in.
Any witnesses?
We're canvassing, but none so far.
What about physical evidence?
It's early days, but we found
a dark blue fiber
transferred from the k*ller's shirt.
That pin.
Units gave these to
embedded journalists in Iraq.
He was a reporter.
That could explain "vermin."
Puts a new spin on this, doesn't it?
Yeah, it does.
Maggie?
- Hey, Paul.
- It's been a while.
- Since Jason's...
- Yeah.
My husband used to write
freelance pieces for Paul.
Special Agent Zidan.
So Rob McCann.
We're all in a state of shock.
It's such a terrible tragedy.
How well did you know him?
Well, I worked with Rob
every day for seven years.
I watched him grow
into one of our star reporters.
You know if he had any enemies?
Well, that's an understatement.
He wrote exposés for us.
Mostly about public corruption.
He upset a great many people.
Powerful people.
- What about threats?
- We all get 'em.
It's part of the job these days.
You know, angry calls.
Reader comments, but some
of Rob's were truly vile.
Any of them more than just words?
As a matter of fact, yes.
Two days ago, a man tried
to force his way in here,
demanding to talk to Rob.
Rob McCann. sh*t dead.
Possibly because he was a journalist.
These are troubled times
for the Fourth Estate, folks.
Exhibit A.
This guy who crashed "Ledger"
offices to confront McCann.
He bolted before
security could grab him,
but he is described as tall.
40, salt-and-pepper beard.
See if McCann's
coworkers know who he is,
and have your team start
looking into McCann's articles.
Who'd he call out?
Whose toes did he step on?
I want names, people.
JT, where are we on the wife?
Linda McCann... she was at
a medical conference in L.A.
Flight lands at JFK in two hours.
- Jubal?
- Yeah?
I was checking posts
on the "Ledger" website.
I think I found something.
- Besides vitriol?
- I don't know what's wrong
with these people...
especially this guy.
Crusader86 here.
He posted 30 comments
on Rob McCann's articles
in the last two months,
and here is what he posted yesterday.
"McCann is vermin,
and he deserves to die."
He used that same word
in two other posts.
Can you get me his name?
I'm assuming it's not crusader86.
It looks like the account is tied
to an email registered
to an Edgar Santos.
Edgar Santos. That sounds familiar,
because... where is it? Yes.
Santos was a building inspector
who took bribes to look
the other way on code violations.
Two months ago McCann wrote that story.
Now Santos is facing major prison time.
He certainly matches the description:
tall, 40, salt-and-pepper beard.
How about that?
Hi, I'm here with FBI
Special Agent Maggie Bell.
She's radiant with lustrous hair
and brown eyes that gleam
with sensual promise.
She's clad in a low-cut blouse which,
in this reporter's view,
is not quite low cut enough.
Oh, boy. Hot and cut.
- What are you watching?
- Nothing.
- Let's go.
- What? We have a lead?
Better yet. We have a suspect.
Edgar Santos? We need to talk.
- What about?
- We want to talk to you about
where you were last night.
Hey, hey, I didn't give you
permission to do...
I don't need your permission.
Check this out.
The address for the New York "Ledger"
and Rob McCann's apartment.
And he got a ticket,
at 10:00 last night,
two blocks from Central Park.
You know what? I'm not going
anywhere with you people.
It's voluntary questioning,
and I can say no.
Not anymore. You're under arrest.
That look familiar?
Some comments I posted. So what?
- Calling Rob McCann vermin.
- Hey. Freedom of speech.
Not when you thr*aten his life.
What about my life, huh?
Look what he did to me
with that article of his.
I lost my job, my wife,
my reputation, my freedom.
I lost everything, because of him.
Yeah.
Did he make you take those bribes too?
It's not like I was the only one.
Right. This is all his fault
which is why you drove down
to the New York Ledger.
Give him a piece of your mind, right?
But when that didn't work,
you took it to the next level.
Not sure what you mean.
Rob McCann was m*rder*d last night.
He's dead?
You have his home address.
You were stalking him.
- No. I mean I wouldn't say...
- And then you caught up
with him in the park, and you sh*t him.
What? No. No, it wasn't me.
I swear to you I did not k*ll him.
He was a great reporter.
Happily married.
He had his whole life ahead of him,
and then just like that...
snatched away.
What has she told you about Jason?
That he was a reporter
who d*ed in a car crash.
That's why this case strikes
such a chord in her.
Why she identifies so strongly
with the victim.
It won't affect her
objectivity as an investigator.
Well, I trust you'll
keep me in the loop,
if you see that changing.
This puts you in the area
when Rob McCann d*ed,
so explain that.
Okay.
I saw McCann catch a cab,
and I followed him,
but I ran a red light trying to keep up.
That's how I got the ticket.
After that, I drove around
looking for him.
I was about to give up when
I saw him walk into the park.
- And you walked in right after him.
- No.
I drove around to Central Park West
and waited for him
to come out the other side.
I just wanted to talk to him, all right?
But he never showed.
Okay. Then give me a witness
that saw you sitting
in your car, in Central Park West.
I can't. There was no witness.
First degree m*rder. Lying in wait.
Do you have any idea
what's about to happen to you?
Wait. Wait.
- There was somebody.
- Who?
A jogger. He came out of the park,
off the path
that I figured McCann was on.
- When was that?
- A little after 10:30 maybe.
- What did he look like?
- Like a jogger.
I don't know. He was wearing a hoodie.
What color?
Dark blue.
There's your jogger.
No CCTV footage, but I did manage
to find a restaurant
with security cameras
pointed towards the right
stretch of Central Park West.
The blue fiber came back
as a cotton-poly blend
which is consistent with
the sweatshirt he's wearing,
and there's Santos, from 10:25 to 10:42.
He never left his car.
Which alibis him out.
I'm starting to wonder.
I mean you would expect
a m*rder like this
to be more rage-filled.
You know, with signs of a b*ating
or g*nsh*t wounds to the face.
We have none of that.
Maybe the k*ller saw Santos's post
and left that message to throw us off?
I was thinking the same thing.
In fact, aspects of this
remind me of a case
I was consulting on last year.
What case?
The death of a Michigan state
senator, in Lansing.
I read that. A mugging gone wrong?
Well, those were the official findings,
but this guy had
some really shady dealings,
and I always thought that
the m*rder was more planned.
Do you think we're dealing
with the same k*ller?
I don't know, but the senator d*ed
from a single sh*t to the heart,
and a jogger was caught
on video fleeing the scene.
Here's the jogger from
the Michigan case.
I mean it could be the same guy.
Yeah, but he's wearing a hoodie too.
You can't tell.
Unless we compare the gaits.
We have a software that can analyze
the biomechanics of how he moves.
Your gait can be as unique
as your fingerprint.
91% match.
The Michigan jogger and
the Central Park West jogger...
they're the same person.
Looks to me like Rob McCann's
m*rder was a professional hit.
People, please turn your hymnals
to section 1958 of the federal code
with the snappy title "m*rder for Hire."
We now believe McCann's k*ller is a pro
who also took out a state
senator in Lansing last year.
Quantico's video analysis
indicates that the suspect
is a white male, 30 to 40's, 6" tall.
Let's call Lansing area hotels.
Get the names of the guests
that checked out
right after the senator's m*rder.
Our guy may be on that list.
I was doing my residency at St. Luke's
when Rob was embedded
with the Marines in Fallujah.
That's when I was
terrified I'd lose him.
Not now. Not here.
I don't know what I'm gonna do.
We're very sorry for your loss.
So someone hired this man to...
Why? Over something Rob wrote?
We're not sure yet.
Did he have any issues
with dr*gs? Gambling?
No. Nothing like that.
Has he been worried lately or concerned?
If anything, he was excited
about a new story he was working on.
What story?
He wasn't ready to talk about it yet.
He said it was the sort of thing
that could win a Pulitzer.
Most reporters keep notebooks.
Did your husband have one?
- Yes.
- Is it here?
- He carried it with him.
- It wasn't found on his body.
Are you sure?
Rob never went anywhere
without his notebook.
That's significant, isn't it?
It might be.
Do you have any idea why he was
in the park last night?
I don't know exactly.
When we talked on the phone, he did say
he was planning to meet with a source.
A source on this news story?
Yes, I think so.
I talked to Rob's editor
and his colleagues.
He didn't tell them
about the story either.
Well, whatever it is,
I think it's the key to this.
What does his browser history show?
Mostly stuff for articles
he had in the pipeline,
except for some searches
on pediatric oncology.
Does Rob have a kid
in his circle who has cancer?
Not that we can find.
Okay. What about this source?
Any phone calls that point
to who that might be?
Rob did get some calls
from a burner phone,
but we're still trying to trace
who it belongs to.
And Rob McCann's autopsy
report just dropped.
Looks like he had
a 0.07 blood alcohol level.
Okay, so he met his source for drinks.
That is my takeaway.
Could you put any
of those drinks on a card?
No. It looks like he paid cash.
He withdrew $100 from an ATM
on 67th and Columbus.
Can you sh**t us over a list
of all the bars
and restaurants in the area?
Hold on. I might not need to.
Checking past credit card charges.
I see two visits to a bar
a block away from that ATM.
Yeah, I remember him.
He sat right over there.
Ordered two glasses of pinot.
Hey, my shift just ended.
Is this gonna take long?
It will with that attitude.
- Who was he with?
- He was alone.
It seemed like he was waiting
for someone, but nobody showed,
so he paid up and split.
Anybody come in after he left?
- Maybe looking for him?
- Nope.
There was a guy.
- What guy?
- He was at the bar.
When pinot left,
he left right after him.
Do you have security cameras?
Just the one pointed
at the till to keep us honest.
The guy at the bar.
Have you seen him before?
Maybe a regular?
Definitely not a regular.
Why are you so sure?
He tried to play a song on the jukebox.
The regulars know
it hasn't worked in months.
The bad news is there's
no cameras outside the bar,
so we couldn't get eyes
on whoever followed McCann,
but here's the good news:
ERT lifted a primo print
off the jukebox's coin return button
belonging to one William Patterson.
- Patterson has a record?
- No.
His prints popped because
he signed up for global entry.
- Could he be our jogger?
- Same age and height.
On the other hand,
he's a math professor at NYU,
so there's that. He lives in Scarsdale.
I just sent his address and photo.
Okay. Thanks.
Not a lot of hit men out there
who are math professors.
Which makes it a pretty great cover.
Isn't it more likely
that Patterson was the source
that Rob was meeting?
Then why didn't they actually meet?
Why didn't he show his face at the bar?
Why did he follow Rob out?
So our k*ller, whoever it is,
just goes up to Rob,
has no idea who he is, and sh**t him.
Cold blood.
Do you think he even thinks about
the pain he's left behind?
All the dominoes that fall?
The wife he made a widow?
A thing like that must be hard.
It is.
Really wish you could have met Jason.
Me too.
You guys would have hit it off.
I would say
one of my favorite
things about Jason is that...
In some small way, he believed
that, being a reporter,
he could change the world.
I think he did.
Jubal. What you got?
Hey, there's a flag on the play.
Forget Patterson's house.
We got a hit on his vehicle.
Thirty yards, east southeast there.
Backed up.
The turnoff says a mile down the road.
Are you okay?
Fine.
Back about another 60 paces.
It's Patterson.
Looks like Patterson was going about 80
when the driver's side front
tire blew, and he lost control.
Which is in keeping with the
man's abysmal driving record.
Five wrecks in two years.
Doesn't exactly fit the profile
for your methodical hit man.
Well, that's because he isn't one.
Apparently, Patterson tore his
Achilles tendon six weeks ago.
So he couldn't be our jogger.
What else do we know about him?
Not enough. He's not married.
No kids. No family we can find.
But we do know he spoke to Rob McCann.
Those burner calls that Rob got?
We traced 'em to a phone
Patterson purchased last week.
Okay. Thanks.
So Patterson is definitely Rob's source,
but what's the story?
Something sensitive enough
that he bought a burner phone.
He took some major precautions here.
That's why he tailed Rob out of the bar,
so they could talk in private.
Yeah, he was afraid someone might
find out he met with a reporter.
So now he's dead in a car crash?
I know. The timing's weird.
Agent Bell, Agent Zidan.
It's part of a radio-controlled receiver
used to detonate a small IED
that blew the tire.
This was no accident.
I bet whoever k*lled Rob
also k*lled Patterson.
The hit man had to be tailing
him to detonate the IED.
Yeah. Make sure the target was dead.
Country road. No traffic.
It's the perfect place to pull this off.
It could explain
why Patterson was speeding.
The hit man was chasing him.
Suspect might have touched this vehicle.
I want to get it checked for prints.
Driver's side door. All around the body.
- Got it.
- Wait.
Where are the keys?
There's no key in the ignition.
Maybe the hit man took 'em.
I bet he's headed to Patterson's house.
- Clear.
- Clear.
Clearly our hit man b*at us here.
First, he takes Rob's notebook.
Then he tears this place apart.
This guy's tying up loose ends.
- But what's he looking for?
- I don't know,
but whatever it is might still be here.
I'm gonna call T
and have him run a search.
Hey, check this out.
It's Patterson's ER paperwork
for when he tore his Achilles.
- So?
- So we need to find people
who knew him, right?
Lists his emergency contact.
Russell Donovan.
I can't even begin to process this.
Mr. Donovan, what was your
relationship to Mr. Patterson?
William and I met at Yale.
He was my first love.
It didn't last, but we stayed close.
I think I was one of
the few friends he had.
When was the last time you two spoke?
Three or four days
ago it must have been.
It was a strange call.
- Strange how?
- He was being paranoid.
Saying that he thought people
were following him.
- What people?
- I don't know.
He was eccentric.
I thought he was just being
William, so I humored him.
He was trying to tell me
something, and I didn't listen.
What else was he involved in,
besides teaching math?
Statistical analysis.
William was sought after for his ability
to parse huge sets of data.
It was all a bit over my head.
"Sought after"? By whom?
I know that he was working on
at least one research project.
Do you know what the project was?
No, he didn't tell me.
He was very tight-lipped.
Okay. Thank you for your time.
You'll be hearing from us.
That was the head
of NYU's math department.
Patterson's project was funded
by a grant from the Defense Department.
- Which project?
- It's classified.
A hit man? Classified projects?
What the hell is going on here?
I don't know, but we're
gonna need a warrant
to check out that research.
We just got a lead on his m*rder.
Hey, watch and learn, kids.
This is yeoman's work
by young Kristen here.
Or yeo-woman's.
Drone? Car crash?
The k*ller used a drone
to k*ll Patterson?
Yes, but not in the way
that you're thinking.
Remember that remote-controlled
receiver that blew the tire out?
- Yeah.
- Our k*ller repurposed it
from a Bluehawk 2 quad copter,
so our techs traced the serial number
and tracked the purchase to him.
He paid cash, so no digital trail.
Damn. Still can't see his face.
'Cause he's staying
turned away from the camera.
This guy's good.
Wait, what's on his neck?
Is that a scar?
AFIS logs scars and tattoos.
Did you run it through the system?
Nice, but she found a better way,
by going back to the senator's m*rder.
These are all the people
who checked out of
Lansing hotels the day
after the senator's death.
I filtered through
for white males 30 to 40,
6" tall, staying alone,
which narrowed it down to 200 people,
but only one of them booked
a ticket to New York
in the past week.
Frank Cutler.
That's him. Same scar on the neck.
Good work, Kristen.
Let's put out a wide BOLO
for Frank Cutler.
It's a little too early
for a victory lap,
but at least now we have a face.
What?
Maggie, you recognize him?
No. Excuse me.
This is Jason Bell reporting live.
You're the biggest nerd.
Hot and cut.
Hey. What's going on?
Is that a picture of Frank Cutler?
- No. It's nothing.
- Maggie?
Maggie, what's up?
Look.
The day that I lost Jason,
we were having lunch together,
and I took this video of him.
I don't know how many times
I've watched this, but...
Is that Frank Cutler?
I mean the hat's similar,
but there's no scar on his neck.
Yeah, but that's
just because of the angle.
- OA, it's him.
- I'm not so sure.
Besides, your husband d*ed
in a car crash.
So? We thought Patterson did too.
You said that he was broadsided.
That the other driver
went through a light,
so what are you saying?
Okay. I'm saying that
that's the day Jason d*ed,
and Frank Cutler
is right there staring at him.
If that's even him. Let me ask you this.
Was there any sign
of foul play with Jason?
Any indication
that someone was after him?
One time, I got detained by TSA,
because some guy on the terror list
had my name and looked enough
like me to be my brother.
This stuff happens all the time.
Yeah, no, I get that,
but what if this really is Cutler?
I mean he's just
walking down the street.
Look, Maggie, I can't imagine
what you've been through.
When you lose a loved one,
it's human nature to look for answers.
For a reason why. But sometimes...
All right, listen.
I just asked you if you thought
it was Frank Cutler.
Okay? That's all I wanted to know.
Agent Bell. We searched
the Patterson house.
Nothing much stood out, except for this.
Thank you.
He rented a safe deposit box.
The First Central Savings Bank.
That was a week ago.
Maybe whatever he put in there
the k*ller was searching for.
All right. Let's go check it out.
Maggie, may I have a moment?
I'm a profiler. I read people.
Is there anything I need to know?
No, ma'am.
I ask because a personal bias
can affect one's instincts.
Make an investigator
move forward too soon
or move away too late.
I'm right where I need
to be on this one.
You should know that Frank Cutler
is a fake identity,
but the trail of bodies
he's left is very real.
- He's k*lled other people?
- So far we've found
nine suspected
contract killings in six states
where Cutler just happened
to be in the area.
We're taking a fresh look
at all those cases,
including the k*lling
of that state senator.
I know you want to take
this man down, Maggie,
but he is lethally dangerous.
If you find out where he is,
I need you to call in SWAT.
Okay.
Thank you.
All that's missing is a drum roll.
I don't know what I was
expecting, but it wasn't that.
There's no imprint on them,
so not pharmaceutical.
Street dr*gs?
Why rent a box to stash those?
Well, maybe it'll make more
sense once the lab IDs them.
I'm sorry, but I have a situation.
Mr. Patterson's here.
- What?
- He wants access to his box.
He has proper ID, so...
Can I see that?
What should I tell him?
You're not gonna tell him anything.
How many customers
are in the bank right now?
We were closing. Mr. Patterson
and the two of you.
What about employees?
Six, including me,
plus the security guard.
What's going on?
I know Dana said to call in SWAT,
but it's gonna take 'em
forever to get here.
- Did you say SWAT?
- If she's gone too long,
he's gonna start getting suspicious.
You're gonna stay here. Do not leave.
We're gonna go up there.
Try not to look like feds.
Excuse me.
We're not gonna ask
your mother for money now.
Frank Cutler, freeze.
FBI. Don't move.
Get down. Take cover!
You too. Down!
Take cover!
Slowly put your hands in the air.
Put your hands in the air,
and get down on your knees,
on the ground. Now.
Don't turn around.
Do not turn around! Get on your knees.
Get down on your knees, on the ground,
or I will sh**t you.
Someone call 911.
Get an ambulance here immediately.
If Cutler dies,
the truth about the case...
everything he's done... dies with him.
Maybe not.
Look what I found in his jacket pocket.
Right now, the car's
the best lead we got.
Yeah, and hopefully those pills.
In spite of the rather rushed timeframe,
I was able to identify
the pill's active ingredient
as a variant of cytarabine
which is an anti-metabolite.
Very impressive.
- Care to translate it for me?
- Yeah.
It's a hot new cancer drug.
Just came out.
If the pills are a cancer drug,
so then why no name or brand imprint?
FDA requires that.
Hmm, well, that's only once
it's been made available to the public.
Okay, so maybe these ones
are for testing or drug trials?
Yeah, could be.
- Whoa.
- What? What is it?
The results on the pill's
inactive ingredients.
Something is way off.
Hey, OA. I got something.
Found it under the seat.
Rob McCann. The missing notebook.
Yeah, well, there's a problem.
Looks like some kind of code.
A lot of reporters use
their own shorthand.
Jason did the same thing.
- You can't read it?
- There's no way.
Hey, Kristen. What's up?
So the pills you guys found?
It's Lucasil.
It's a recently approved drug
for treating
childhood leukemia.
Why would Patterson have those?
I don't know, but it explains
why Rob was researching
pediatric oncology.
Yeah, especially if there
were problems with the drug.
The pills?
They show impurities.
Like, serious ones.
- Who makes Lucasil?
- Morrowick Medical.
In fact, the drug put them on the map.
They just went public with a huge IPO.
Okay. Look into Morrowick.
Let us know what you find out.
On it.
You thinking what I'm thinking?
Morrowick had issues with Lucasil.
Rob was gonna tell the world.
And bring down the company, so somebody
hired Cutler to stop him,
and the evidence might be
in this notebook.
We just can't read it.
Maybe Rob's wife can.
It's been a while, but some
of this is coming back now.
- What does it say?
- These are Rob's notes
from an interview with someone.
No name. Just an initial: Q.
Q. Who the hell's Q?
In Jason's notes, he used
to manipulate the alphabet.
What if we shift the letters
back by one character?
Okay, so Q is really P, for Patterson?
Okay.
Looks like this Patterson
is talking about a drug.
Initial M.
L? Lucasil.
He's telling Rob
about a factory in China,
I think, that made
a batch of tainted pills.
They found the mistake,
but the pills had already
been distributed
to patients in drug trials.
Does Patterson say
how he knew about this?
Here it is.
A major shareholder hired him,
secretly, to run data
to see if patients had been affected.
Were they?
He found a 29% rise in mortality.
Wow.
And the company kept it quiet.
Yep.
He wanted to go public,
to make sure no one else
took the tainted dr*gs,
but the shareholder refused
and threatened him,
so he reached out to Rob.
Rob was gonna expose this, wasn't he?
This was his story.
In his way, he was gonna
change the world.
Does it mention anything about
who the shareholder was?
It's just initials again. S.E.
Which is really R.D.
We know who that is. Patterson's friend.
Russell Donovan of Donovan Partners.
The VC firm that invested
big in Morrowick Medical.
We hit his home and office,
but he's in the wind.
Now, a little context here.
Not only did Donovan hire Cutler,
but he also gave meds to cancer patients
without bothering to mention
they were contaminated.
Let's lean on his
family, his colleagues.
Let's issue another round of BOLOs.
Let's find this dirt bag.
Hey.
Tell me you have a 20 on Donovan.
I might: I just found
a satellite office in Brooklyn
where Donovan parks his chopper.
Pilot just filed a flight plan
for Montreal.
He's making a run for the border.
Russell Donovan, we need a few words.
- I've done nothing wrong.
- Really?
What about the tainted pills
in the cancer trials?
There's no proof of that.
We have Rob McCann's notebook.
That has the whole story.
And we have two payments of
100 grand to Frank Cutler
that we tracked back to you.
You can direct any further
questions to my attorney.
Russell Donovan, you're under arrest.
Good work out there today.
I'm sorry. I know you said
to call in SWAT,
but I was worried that
we would have lost Cutler.
Well, we might lose him anyway.
He's out of surgery,
but it's touch-and-go.
You faced down a monster today, Maggie.
A case a little too close to home.
How are you?
I'm fine.
I used to think that things
would never catch up to me.
I don't want to see you
make the same mistake.
This woman helped me through things.
She can help you too.
Thanks.
- Hey.
- Hey.
Um, listen, so I've been
looking into Cutler.
That's definitely him in your video.
He was in New York.
Maybe it's what you said.
He was just walking by.
Yeah. That's what I thought too.
But then I looked into his financials
and a wire transfer for 100 grand
hit his account the day Jason d*ed.
You were right. Maggie, he was involved.
I'm sorry. You can't be in here.
This man is critically ill.
I need the room. Get out.
Cutler, wake up.
You remember me?
Not just from the bank though, right?
Last year. I was sitting
at a café on Amsterdam.
I was with my husband.
Jason. I was sitting there with Jason.
That's you. Isn't it?
You k*lled my husband.
Why did you do it?
Look at me.
Why did you k*ll my husband?
Do you even understand
what you took from me?
The life that we were going to have?
Who hired you?
Do one decent thing right now,
and tell me who hired you.
Please. Please tell me.
Tell me.
Cutler.
- I'm sorry. You need to leave.
- What's happening?
His BP's cratering.
Vessel may have opened up.
Let's run a CT angio, and prep the OR.
- Where are you going?
- Back into surgery.
If we're lucky, we can save his life.
Where's the OR doctor on call?
- Dr. Denton!
- I'm right here.
Page Denton.
I keep thinking about
how Jason wanted to have kids.
I was the one that wanted to wait.
I was worried about my career
or whatever.
I just wish I'd have taken
that leap, you know?
Then maybe part of him
would still be with me.
Or if I was at home pregnant,
he wouldn't have been
on the road that night.
What happened to him is not on you.
How did I not see
that it wasn't an accident?
How could you? No one else did.
I'm an FBI agent.
I should have seen the signs.
Not if there weren't any.
OA, I think I've been
too afraid to look.
To really face that he's gone.
Did you know that I still have
all of his clothes in his closet?
I just don't open the door.
Wherever this goes...
I'm with you.
Agent Bell?
I'm sorry,
but Mr. Cutler didn't make it.