03x14 - Truer Lies

[bunniefuu]

Shawn, what are you
doing home from school?

Uh... Uh, well,
at the assembly today

there was a guy and he
hypnotized some students.

And one of them
thought he was a kangaroo

and he punched the guy
and he passed out

before he could put
the kids back to normal.

Uh, but luckily Mr. Detmer, an
ex-Navy SEAL, put everyone back

before six kids
had to go to the hospital.

Let me see the suspension
note from the teacher.

How did you know?

Kid, I got a nickname at work,
it's the Human Lie Detector.

I spend my day analyzing lies
and the people who tell them.

Rule number one, every lie
is built on a kernel of truth.

Take your little fib,
for instance.

If I were to put money on it, I'd say the
only true thing that you just said is that

Mr. Detmer is ex-Navy SEAL.

You're right. That's
amazing. Not really.

The relative specificity of that statement
compared to the others made it obvious.

Look, Shawn, if you
continue to lie like this

nobody's going to believe
you when it counts.

And that could put
your life on the line.

Like maybe when
I might be a cop?

No! Like now.

Shawn Spencer thrives
on clutch moments like this.

It's just him,
the ball and the hole.

He's surrounded by silence.

And a man wearing
a hefty bag on angel dust.

Come on, dude.
I was in the zone.

Now I have to start all over.

Shawn, the floor is flat. I don't know
why you can't just putt in our office.

Because Gus, anyone can hit
a ball into an empty cup.

The true challenge is to guide
the ball almost magically

through the organized
chaos of human bustle

and into the hole
as if no one were there.

Let's just hope it works better than when
you attempted the same thing with the darts.

Pardon me, I nailed that,
30-foot bulls-eye.

No. You hit a guy's eye.

Shh!

Dude.

Stay alive.
What?

Get there.

Oh!

How about
my phone call, huh?

You'll get
your phone call.

I didn't do it.
You have to believe me.

Oh!

Who put a putting
green in here?

He was already dead.

I was trying
to resuscitate him.

Wait, wait, that guy.
The one with the great hair.

He can vouch for me. I think we worked
at Busch Gardens together one summer.

Yeah, we made funnel cakes.

Oh, look at that, Gus, he must have gotten
me confused with another man with great hair.

And the white guy,
I know him, too.

Save it, Ryan.
Hey, remember?

Just shut up!

Uh, Jules...

What's the story there?
Yeah?

That's Ryan Bainsworth, or Lyin'
Ryan, as we call him around here.

He's a compulsive liar who is
notorious for calling in tips

and sending the department
on wild goose chases.

He's pretty much an
embarrassment to all of us.

How can you tell that
someone's a compulsive liar?

I mean, assuming that
their pants aren't on fire.

Trust me, we know.

Oh, come on, Jules. We all tend
to bend the truth just a little.

Not me. Mmm-mmm.
Oh, really?

Does this ring a bell?

"No, Shawn, I have not had
any naughty dreams about you. "

And, "Yes, Shawn, I do wish Gus was never
born, so that I could be your partner. "

What?
True story.

That's messed up.
I never said that, Gus.

Anyway, Ryan usually comes in
claiming to be a witness to a crime,

but this time it looks
like he's committed one.

Oh, Detective O'Hara, this is Dr.
Morey, the DA's psychological expert.

Nice to meet you. Here's
the file on our suspect.

Thank you very much.

Don't mind them.
They're just here to observe.

She's right.
Please carry on.

When you're finished, I'd appreciate
it if you'd evaluate my partner Gus.

For years he's been claiming
to be insane in the membrane.

All right, why don't you just do us all a
favor and write down in neat little letters

all about how you stabbed and
m*rder*d your super in cold blood?

For the last time,
I'm innocent.

I had asked my super
to fix the garbage disposal.

I clogged it with
cinnamon sticks

and lemon wedges
from a marinade.

Afterwards, he was to check my pipes
because the polarity is completely off

and the water drains
counterclockwise,

but by the time I got home,
I found him there.

Dead.

Doctor,
if I can speak for you.

I'd rather you didn't.

Look, all things being equal, I'd
rather be scrapbooking right now,

but that's not important.

Though I have been known
to make a kickass collage.

Then maybe you'd like
to tell me who did k*ll him.

Yes. An assassin.

An assassin?

A hired assassin.
No, two of them, actually.

Yes, you see
that has to be it.

The night before,
I went to this restaurant

to get a basket
of these things called

fries cuatro quesos,
dos fritos.

You know, the ones where they inject
potatoes with a four cheese mixture,

fry them three quarters of the way, pull
them out, batter them, fry them again

and then serve them with bacon
and an ancho chili sour cream.

Anyway,
as I was sitting there,

a car speeds right through the
storefront across the street.

It makes such a loud noise,
I had to turn my head and look

and that is when I overheard the
guy with the curly Q's on his face

tell the other guy at the corner
table about the assassination plot.

Can that be true?
No way.

I mean, is it even possible?

I couldn't imagine it.

There's no way you can
prepare a fry like that.

That'd be way too much for
the human palate to manage.

It would be a flavor seizure.

Gentlemen, please,
don't be ridiculous.

She's right.

Let's just take a minute here,
think things through.

They must be parboiling
the potato first.

An assassination plot? Seriously,
how gullible do you think we are?

You have to believe me.
I'm 100% sure on this.

I clearly heard
one of them say

that they were going to k*ll
someone with his belt buckle.

Ryan, come on.

They must have known
that I overheard them.

That's why they were
trying to k*ll me.

But they surprised the super in
my apartment, got him instead.

And he tried to stop them.
They k*lled him.

How did they know
where to find you, huh?

Because I was
looking for them.

I was asking around,
putting up flyers.

Oh, flyers. Oh, well, that makes
sense then. You advertised for K*llers.

You have to believe me. These
are the guys that you want.

If you don't catch them, someone
else is going to die, I swear to you.

I have a question.
No.

It's not a yes
or no question.

What is the name
of the restaurant

that serves these
alleged fries?

And might I substitute
a garlic, lemon aioli?

Spencer, out.

Officer, if it helps any, I
think substitutions are allowed.

So what do you think,
Dr. Morey?

Well, he shows all the classic
signs of an underlying pathology.

People like this lie in order
to make themselves valuable.

Over time, when people
stop believing their lies,

they're forced to escalate their behavior
in order to reclaim the attention.

Could he escalate it
to the point of m*rder?

My professional opinion?

Please.

His police history and the circumstantial
evidence of his fingerprints

on the m*rder w*apon and the
victim's blood on his hands...

Hmm, yes, I think that should
be enough to prosecute him.

Well that's too bad.
Why?

Because Lyin' Ryan is telling
the truth this time.

Oh.

In between the lines
there's a lot of obscurity

I'm not inclined
to resign to maturity

If it's all right
then you're all wrong

But why bounce around
to the same damn song?

You'd rather run
when you can't crawl

I know, you know
That I'm not telling the truth

I know, you know
They just don't have any proof

Embrace the deception
Learn how to bend

Your worst inhibitions tend
to psych you out in the end

And you're sure you want
to take on the SBPD,

an expert in forensic
psychology

and the DA's office? Because
they all believe he's guilty.

I certainly want
to investigate further.

Every good liar's lies are
rooted in a kernel of truth.

This isn't even our case. Are you
trying to show up the police department?

Is this about pride?

Gus, I got these
jeans at a garage.

Not a garage sale, a garage.

Clearly, pride
is not an issue for me.

This is about me not wanting a
man to be wrongfully convicted

because he has a sickness
that he cannot control.

Plus, he appreciated my hair.

No, he appreciated my hair.

He was lying. He's a compulsive
liar, that's what they do.

Come on, try to play Catch Up.

Uh, why don't you play,
Investigate This on Your Own?

Fine. Stay here, wash the dishes
in those ridiculous gloves.

I'm going to the restaurant that he said
had cheese infused twice battered fries.

I'll drive.

Enjoy!

The fries exist, Shawn.

He was telling
the truth in a big way.

They're like a pyramid
of savory goodness.

Let's just sit here
and look at them for a while.

Dude, this feels like a family
establishment, doesn't it?

I'm not sure two ruthless hired
gunmen would frequent a place like...

A car speeds right through the
storefront window across the street,

that made me turn my head.

...this.

Uh, excuse us.
Uh-huh.

Do you remember if there were
two threatening looking guys

sitting at the table
in the corner yesterday?

Oh, my gosh. Yes!
How did you know that?

He's psychic.

Oh, oh! Do you do parties?

Private ones, yes.

Were you thinking of throwing a
little something together for yourself?

Uh, no. My niece,
she's turning six.

Not available for that.

Uh, do you by chance remember
overhearing anything they said?

No the only thing they said
to me was when they ordered.

A beer and a cup
of hot water

with cinnamon sticks
and lemon wedges.

I clogged it with
cinnamon sticks

and lemon wedges
from a marinade.

But they were totally creepy.

Scared the heck
out of the hostess.

Yeah, I saw those guys.

Definitely, very creepy. The one
with the weird handlebar mustache.

And that is when I overheard the
guy with the curly Q's on his face.

Handlebar mustache?

Like the Hamburglar?

No, no, no. That was Mayor
McCheese. He had the 'stache.

Burglar had the mask.

Right, right.
Then there was Grimace.

That brother was funny.
What?

No, no, no, no, no.
Excuse us.

I gave you Vin Diesel.
Gave me?

You're not claiming
Grimace as a brother.

Grimace is a brother.

He's an amorphous mass.
He's like a big amoeba.

He's a black amoeba, Shawn.

Purple.
Anyway...

When I seated them,

I saw a bulge under
his suit jacket.

Like from a g*n on his belt.

They were going to k*ll
someone with his belt buckle.

I think I'm starting
to understand how Ryan works.

When people stop believing their lies,
they're forced to escalate their behavior

in order to reclaim
the attention.

I'm sorry. Anything else?

No, but you guys should
talk to Carl, the valet.

He had a really weird story.

Thank you.
What color was Grimace?

What?
Black.

Yeah, those creepy dudes. They were
talking a lot about money or something.

Then one of them slips
the other one a bag of cash,

but then they give
me a 50 cent tip.

You know, it really pisses me
off when folks are too cheap

to even shell out
for a dollar.

I hear that.

Take care of yourself.

Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster.

What are you doing here?

Well, Chief, if you must know. I must.

We are going to speak with
Ryan because the psychic bone

in this finger is telling me that
he is not lying about the hit men,

which means he may also be telling
the truth about the assassination plot.

And if we don't
follow up on it,

even though it seems pretty
thin, someone could die.

What? No, I will. I will tell
her that because it's spot on.

Chief, that is a very
smart pantsuit.

I'm not having a
conversation with your pinkie.

Okay, one last question.
Loehmann's or Talbots?

Even if I did believe you,
which I don't,

I have been down this road
with Ryan too many times.

Now, unless you have some
concrete proof of something,

you and your pinkie are banned from
wasting any department resources

on any information coming
from Ryan Bainsworth.

Fair enough! We will find
you something concrete.

Thank you.

Good news,
we have an ingenious plan.

Ingenious.

Huh.

So, maybe you'd like to turn
and face another direction.

Preferably away
from Ryan's holding cell.

You're not speaking to him.
This is not a case for you.

Go home.

Oh!
Oh, us.

We should... We go home.

Thank you.

No, no. You didn't do anything
wrong. It's not your fault.

His name was
Grimace Jackson, Shawn.

Grimace T. Jackson.

You're ridiculous.
Whatever.

How are we going to get into
Ryan's apartment to check it out?

Follow my lead.

Hiya.

Hello.

May I help you?

Perhaps.

My name is Shawn Spencer, I'm with
the Big Uncles of America program.

This is my underprivileged
mentee, holl*back Atcha.

He's selling magazine subscriptions
as a way to learn business skills.

Otherwise, he'd be forced to join a
g*ng if he was still on the streets.

If I were still out
on the street, I'd be an OG.

You wish.

Okay, just don't tell
anyone I let you in.

Oh, thank you very much.

Now what exactly
are we looking for?

Evidence. Evidence
to corroborate the story.

Check it out. Look at the way
the blood sprayed along the wall.

Just look.
What?

The aortic spatter? Sure.

It means that the super's aortic
artery was punctured during the m*rder.

The built up blood pressure
causes different kinds of...

Wow.

Some of us like
to be prepared, Shawn.

No, no.

When Ryan came
into the station,

he only had blood
on his hands.

If he had k*lled the super, wouldn't it
have sprayed all over his clothes, too?

Oh, no!
Oh, my gosh. Oh, oh!

That means that the super was in the wrong
place at the really, really wrong time.

The assassins took him out
thinking he was Ryan.

How did they know
where to find you, huh?

Because I was
looking for them.

I was asking around,
putting up flyers.

That means Ryan's
telling the truth.

Which also means that there's someone
else out there with a target on their back.

Gus, look!

Ryan really did work
at Busch Gardens.

Is that what he thinks
good hair looks like?

I think that's Koko B. Ware.
Shawn, come on.

Look, he's letting Ryan
shoulder the parrot.

Where are we going to find
these so-called assassins?

Mmm-mmm-mmm. But Ryan's the only
one that can help us find them.

Even if they did exist, the
Chief was emphatic when she said,

she does not want us talking to
Ryan while he's in police custody.

Bingo.
Don't say bingo.

Cranium.
Now, I'll play some Cranium.

How much do we have in the
Psych savings account?

I really hate it when
you ask that question.

Thank you very much.

What are you doing here?
Dapper Dan!

Just going to pay a visit
to our old buddy Ryan.

You were given direct
orders to stay away from him.

Yeah, we don't take orders well. No.

Unless they're to get
on the dance floor.

Or raise the roof.

Make some noise
with a "Z."

You know what?
Just forget I asked, okay?

Sorry.

What is it, the first day
with the new feet?

He spent all day in court
waiting to testify on a case

and the defense attorney
didn't show up again.

But he's right,

you guys can't communicate
with Ryan while he's in custody.

I guess it's a good thing
he's no longer in custody.

Seeing as how
we just posted his bail.

Looks like paper.

Actually our life savings.

Bye, bye.

Hey, you guys want lunch?

You know I own
a restaurant downtown.

Actually, it's not all mine.
I co-own it with Mike Ditka.

You guys eat wild game,
don't you?

Once we find the real K*llers,
the police will believe us.

Us? What us?

I'm not convinced
you didn't k*ll that dude.

Blood splatter
is a subjective science.

It was the assassins,
I'm telling you.

And if we don't stop them,
they're going to k*ll again.

I think Ryan has a point.

Is there a Kinko's nearby? We
should make some new flyers.

What information
do you actually have?

I don't know if it's enough, but I did
overhear a time, a place, and a name.

Come again.

I know who, what and where.

Ryan, that... That's
everything we need to know.

That's all of it. Why didn't you
just say that in the first place?

Because no one
would let me.

That's true, Gus,
that's very true.

Yeah, I got that, Shawn.
Just go ahead, Ryan.

The time was 10:00.
10:00.

To 4:30.
10:00 to 4:30.

Yeah.
A six hour window?

What, do your K*llers work
at the cable company?

It's okay. What's the place?

Four twenty...

Four twenty-something. I didn't get
a street name or an apartment number,

but the address definitely
has a 420 in it.

Hmm.

But the name I have.
Perfect. What is it?

Tom.
Tom?

You wouldn't happen to have
a last name, would you?

Come on, guys!
I can't do everything for you.

Oh, I'm teaching a water
aerobics class in 20 minutes.

I've got to go.

Go? We just bailed
you out of jail.

Ryan, it's okay.
I trust you.

Do your thing. We'll let you
know when we have something.

Perfect. I will have one of my
assistants track me down wherever I am.

Count on it!

Okay...

Don't worry, Gus. We'll
travel faster without him.

All right, fine.
Every liar has a tell.

So, why... Sure he's good,
but if you listen, it's there.

All right, would you...
Let's head back to the office.

Will you stop... Of course, we're
going to stop for tacos on the way.

Thank you.

I'm sorry.
What time do you close?

Well, if you're closed already,
why are you answering the phone?

Dude, the clock is ticking on some guy's
life and you're out getting a milkshake?

Gus, don't be
this crevice in my arm.

This isn't a milkshake, it's a
smoothie. There's a huge difference.

And I was going around the
neighborhood checking all the places

that are open from 10:00
to 4:30 and by blind luck

one of them just happened to be
the only juice bar in Santa Barbara

that offers blueberries in the
mist with a?a? and goji berries.

I didn't order that. This is the
normal blueberries in the mist.

How did you do?

I've got a list
of all the addresses

in Santa Barbara
that begin with 420.

There are over 700
possibilities, Shawn.

Four twenty, first street, 420,
second street, you get the drift.

Wow.

I guess next we'll have to comb
through apartments and suites, too.

What are you doing?

I'm sorry, Shawn, but I never fully
believed Ryan in the first place.

I was going along
with your gut as usual.

And I have a non-negotiable
distance limit on those trips.

I have a real job.

Are you telling me you would
rather sell pharmaceuticals

than foil an assassination plot and clear an
innocent man that's been accused of m*rder?

Innocent man? We just took on the
world's most unreliable client.

I get the feeling I'm going to
need all the commissions I can get.

I'll be spending the next six weeks
praying he doesn't skip out on his hearing,

so we can get
our bail money back.

You can get bail money back?

Well, what am I
supposed to do?

I don't know.
Call the Human Lie Detector.

Okay, Ryan. Just tell him
exactly what you told the police.

Oh, I k*lled the super
of my building.

What?

That's not...
That's not true at all.

Well, the Santa Barbara Police
Department seems to think it's true.

Otherwise,
why did they arrest me?

Shawn, if this guy says that he's
guilty, what the hell am I doing here?

He's lying.

Wait, he's lying about lying?

Yes. No. I...

Ryan! Ryan, tell him
about the assassins.

The creepy assassins with the
handlebar mustache and the plot

and the counterclockwise
water, please.

Assassins?

Counterclockwise water? Really, Shawn,
if I said that, I would sound crazy.

Dude, you are crazy.

You're way off
the reservation,

that's why I'm trying
to keep you out of jail.

When you lie, does that
make you feel important?

Because if you keep lying the way you do,
no one will believe you when it counts.

I will slap you in the face.

Oh, v*olence
is not the answer.

I would say that you are the second
most sane person in this room.

Ryan, would you excuse
us for just a minute?

Oh, yeah.

Don't wander off.

All right, Shawn.

Why are you working
so hard on this one?

I work hard on all my cases.

I know you do. You work hard
to have fun, to show off.

Look, I'm not an idiot. I know
this guy's got a screw loose.

He's lying out his ass.

What I don't understand is why
you're taking this one so seriously.

I guess because nobody, including
the police, believes him.

I know what's going on here.
Oh, really?

Yes, I do.
Shawn, listen to me.

You are not Ryan.

Yeah, you stretch the truth
a little bit sometimes,

but at least you know
where the line is.

Of course, I know
where the line is.

But only because
of two things.

One, you always
had somebody around

who knew when you were lying

and bothered
to call you on it.

What's the second thing?

Well, I'd like to say that you always
had enough natural talent to fall back on.

But I'd be lying.

Listen to me, kid. If you
ever drag my ass down here

again to do Guster's job, I'm going
to hit you up with a consulting fee.

Okay, good night, Captain.

What was that?

That was me
saving your life.

From my dad?

We don't know
who we can trust.

We've got to
stay low. Low.

I have a face guy who can disguise us,
get us out of the country if need be.

He's... Yeah, he's probably
going to have to break your nose,

but remember, this is
what you signed up for.

Stop it!
What?

This is real.
Your life is in danger.

Okay? Even Batman takes off
the cape and the cowl

when he's in the Batcave
with Alfred,

so just pretend like
I'm Alfred and you be Ryan

Wayne.

It's them!
It's them! Don't get it!

Hold on.
Don't!

Hello?

Shawn, I can't believe I'm making
this call, but I figured it out.

I'm standing
at 420 Main Street.

And guess what it is?
A hospital.

Spencer, what the hell?

Are you all right?

Yeah, of course I am. Why?

Well, we got the message
that you were at the hospital,

something about
life and death?

Oh, right, that. Well, we are
in a hospital and, as it happens,

it's filled with
both life and death.

I knew, I should
have left that message.

What's going on, Spencer?

Ryan and I spent some quality
time in a psychic sweat lodge.

Toweled.
Fully.

And I have had a clear vision
of the absolute truth.

The target of the assassination
is right down the hall.

His name is Tom.
Tom Lieber.

And he needs
police protection.

Is this more of your
bullcrap, Bainsworth?

Because in addition
to your m*rder charge,

I'm pretty sure we have
enough to charge you

with reckless disregard
of police resources.

You two, as well.
More than enough grounds.

Wait, no,
you have to believe us!

Ah! You're k*lling me!
You're k*lling me!

Freeze!

Perfect timing.
I'm dead. Thanks a lot.

You. Out.

No, no, no, no! I don't
want to hear it anymore.

Get out.

Spencer, thank you once again
for completely wasting my time.

Once again, just last week
I gave you the tip about

the twice yearly
sale at T.J. Maxx.

Racks and racks
of $7 ties.

Wasting your time?
I don't think so.

What's going on?
Is this about the accident?

Because I still
don't remember it.

What accident?

I hit a car.

You mean
you were hit by a car?

No, I hit one. Or at least
that's what they told me.

I don't remember any of it.

Why would I even
want to hit a Buick?

I don't have anything
against Buicks.

Carlton, look at this.

Sir, are you suffering
from amnesia?

Yeah. Maybe. I think.
Or something like that.

Great.

Leave it to Lyin' Ryan to find
the only amnesiac in Santa Barbara.

Although, I won't be the only amnesia person
much longer, I'm getting my memory back.

A little bit each day.
Look, Lieber.

Tom. I never forgot that.

How wonderful for you.

We think you may
be in grave danger.

No, we don't.

Yes, we do. This side of
the room, the cool side...

Sorry, Jules.
... think that...

How... How do we...

Someone may be
trying to k*ll you.

Are you blackmailing anyone?

Are you having
a torrid affair?

Are you part of Treadstone?

Wait, don't answer
the last question.

Oh, wow, no. No.
I work from home,

receiving and processing complaints
for a mattress manufacturer.

On Tuesdays,
I go out and get new games,

maybe throw in a trip to
7-Eleven for a grape Slurpee,

which must have been
where I was going...

Oh, just after 6:00.

Anapamu Street.

I would have been there
right after the...

What?
My games.

All over the street.

How great would those have
been during my convalescence?

Okay, this is fascinating.

Spencer,
make-believe time's over.

We got real police work to do.

By the way,
you're still a long ways off

from connecting anyone other than
Ryan to the m*rder of that super.

Hey, Chief,
what do you got?

Shawn, what are we doing?
Ryan lied to us again.

He made us look
like fools again.

And now we're standing in the room
with a guy who literally knows nothing.

No offense, Tom.

No, none taken.

Visiting hours
ended hours ago.

You gentlemen need
to finish your business now.

Oh, our business is
definitely finished. Trust me.

Tom, I do hope
you remember stuff.

Yeah. No, no, no, you got
it. We'll be there in ten.

I certainly hope you didn't make
dinner reservations at Souplantation.

Gus and I have already eaten.

I suppose we could go around the
corner and watch you eat, if you'd like.

They just found a body
in a vacant office suite

on the corner of Gardner and Carrillo.

Really? Any ID?

You're not going
to believe this,

it is the defense
attorney on the case

we've been trying to give
testimony on all week.

Huh.

What about Ryan's assassins?

You should call either
the Loch Ness monster

or Bigfoot
if you get in trouble.

I'm sure they'd
be happy to help.

First of all Bigfoot and I
haven't spoken in five years.

Six if you don't count
his cousin's wedding,

which was literally
like, "Hey, B."

Come on, Jules,
you know me and I know people.

I can read them.
You know that.

I have spent enough time with
Ryan to know when he's lying

and when he's
telling the truth.

And there is a kernel of truth in every one
of his stories so they cannot be dismissed.

Neither can he. He's a person.

A person is more than
the tales that they tell.

Yeah, well, right now he's more
than just a person. He's a doctor.

You know they say we
doctors have a God complex.

But after seven years
of neurosurgery,

I say we have a complex God.

Look on the bright side, Spencer,
you keep up this losing streak,

you'll become completely
useless to the department.

I know, we haven't eaten.

Shawn, we are treading
on thin ice right now.

Yes, but I'm about to do a
double axle into a Salchow

and finish with
a sweet little camel toe.

You mean camel spin.
I've heard it both ways.

I'm right about
the Ryan thing.

No, you are obsessed
with this Ryan thing.

And, dude, if your
psychic powers disappear,

Vick won't need
to hire us anymore.

There's no way we can subsist
on the private jobs we get.

How many times must
we go through this?

I am this close to getting
on the Pro Bowlers Tour.

I am not doing this.

Okay. I get it.

We have to make nice
with the Chief.

Why do you think I brought
along this peace offering?

You really think
that one container of

fries cuatro quesos,
dos fritos

is going to fix everything?
Yes, I do.

The lawyer had two
slugs in his chest.

Ballistics is checking
the system for matches.

Any trace?
Nothing yet.

The lab's going to call
the second they find anything.

Oh, not now, gentlemen. We are in the
middle of a homicide investigation.

And don't think I don't know that
you've been wasting my detectives' time

chasing leads, once again
supplied by Ryan Bainsworth.

Chief. Chief Vick.

Hmm.

Chief Karen Charles Vick.

Here. Ooh!

It's a fries cuatro quesos, dos fritos
and apparently doesn't travel well.

The point is we are sorry
for making Lassiter and Juliet

run around town
on wild goose chases.

Shawn's psychic powers
have been a tad on the fritz.

The good news is they're
back to 100% working order

and we are fully available to help
on this m*rder case you are now on.

Even more good news, those
taste better than they look.

Yes, they do.

Fine.

Apology accepted. And my
middle name is not Charles.

I took a sh*t.
I knew it was a C.

Now about this defense
attorney's m*rder case,

any victim of an
assassination plot?

Wow, really?

As odd as it sounds,
it actually did cross my mind.

So I checked it out and I can
say with certainty that he is

not the victim of Mr.
Bainsworth's assassination plot.

The coroner puts time of death at four
days ago and a recently discovered witness

who heard sh*ts at 6:00
that evening confirms it.

Which means the lawyer
was k*lled before

Ryan allegedly overheard
these men planning a hit.

Our victim would have already been dead
at that point. No need to k*ll him again.

Unless he was a zombie.

Chief?
Yes.

The surveillance video from
the backdoor of the garage

near the scene of the crime came in,
it's corrupted. There's not much of it.

Hey, are those
the fries cuatro quesos?

Yes, they are.

They don't travel well.

O'Hara, set it up.

Let's take a look.

Wait, dude, she said the
lawyer d*ed four days ago.

Yes. It's over, Shawn.

Four days ago was Tuesday.

That means the lawyer got k*lled
in a building on Gardner Street

on the same day that Lieber
got hit by a car on Anapamu.

Not just the same day, the
same time, around 6:00 p. m.

And those streets
are only two blocks away.

Ryan, the lawyer, Lieber,
they're all connected somehow.

Come on.

Fries.

Sorry to interrupt.

I just got a very strong vibe that
you're about to apologize to us.

In what world would we
ever apologize to you?

Wayne's, maybe Dave's,
it's a small...

Spencer.

I believe this DVD will prove that
Ryan and I have been right all along.

No, who's that?

O'Hara, rewind that.

No way!
That's Tom Lieber.

That's the kid that Bainsworth
led us to at the hospital,

Chief, and he's running away
from where the body was found.

Well, I guess you were right,
Mr. Spencer,

Lieber must have
k*lled the lawyer

and then got hit by the car
as he fled the scene.

Ooh, I don't know, the spirits are
a little cloudy on that part, Chief.

I'm sorry for the spirits, but
we don't have time for gray areas.

Detectives, I want you to get
to that hospital right now.

From what I understand
Lieber is regaining his memory

and the second he remembers
what he did, he could run.

Come on, let's go.
Got it.

She knows she's not
going to eat that.

What? I don't think Lieber's the k*ller.

I saw something
on the tape. Hold on.

There. Right there.

He stops and looks back
over his shoulder. Why?

Because someone
is chasing him.

Two creepy someones,
to be exact.

Lieber didn't k*ll the lawyer,
but he saw who did.

Ryan's assassins.

They chased him into traffic and
they thought that was the end of it.

But then the newspaper reports
that he survived, goes into a coma,

wakes up with amnesia, the K*llers
think they still have a window.

But today's paper said
he's regaining his memory.

So Ryan overheard the real K*llers
plotting to take out Lieber.

We have got to get back to the
hospital and tell Lassy and Jules that

these guys are coming back
to clean up their own mess.

Come on!

What was his condition,
now, did he seem...

Yeah, Dawson, I need an
APB out on a Thomas Lieber.

He's wanted for questioning in a m*rder.

Get his picture
from the DMV.

Where's Lieber? Gone.
Looks like he's on the lamb.

If he's on a lamb,
he won't get far.

Alpaca, different story.
Those things really fly.

You two don't
need to be here.

It's not true, Lassy.
Lieber didn't k*ll the lawyer.

He witnessed Ryan's assassins do the deed
and now they've clearly come back to get him.

And I promise I will ask all
about your insane little theories

once I put them both in jail.

Come on, Gus. Let's find Tom.

I should have been
onto this way earlier.

I can't believe
I didn't make the connection.

We don't know that
Lieber's dead, Shawn.

Maybe he remembered and left
before the K*llers could find him.

Hey, guys! They're right behind
us! They're going to k*ll us!

Drive! Drive!

Okay, enough with the
seat belts! Just drive!

They're right behind us!

Where did
you learn to drive?

All right, now you want
to keep this upright.

I'm sorry. I had to take
matters into my own hands.

I snuck Lieber
out the ambulance bay

and when I saw you guys pull up
I knew we could hide in the car.

Incoming!

So, wait, you just took him
out of the hospital?

Well, I had to act quickly.

Tom started
to remember everything.

Well, not everything,
really. Yet.

And the K*llers, the K*llers
were already in the building.

It was like a game of cat and mouse
trying to get out of there unseen.

Didn't we just
use the elevator?

Would you please let
me tell the story?

He's parking, he's parking,
he's parking!

Very nice, partner.

Just weaved your way through those obstacles
like a ferret on roller skates or...

Hey, what are you doing?

Why are we slowing down?

No, no, no.

Gus.

What are you doing?

Dude, the K*llers
are right behind us!

Nobody's following us, Shawn.
And there never was.

The only thing I know for sure right now
is that we are harboring two fugitives.

Okay, Gus, look, I believe Ryan,
but I understand why you don't.

I maxed you out
in the blind faith department

and that's fair so you
don't have to believe him.

Just keep believing in me.
Come on, buddy.

That's them! That's them!
That's them!

That's the guys
from the restaurant!

It's coming back to me.
They sh*t that man!

Drive! Drive!

Hey, Gus, drive!

I'm gonna
k*ll you, Shawn!

Get down!

We got to get out
of here! We're sitting ducks!

Everybody run!
Run, run, run! Go, run!

Serpentine!
Serpentine! Zigzag!

Hide in here!

What are you doing?

We're never
going to make it!

Not at a complete stop,
we won't!

Doctor, this bag is empty.
Is that important?

I'll hold them off. Get
him back to the hospital.

Hopefully Lassy and Jules
are still there.

Hold them off, how?

I don't know. I'll think of
something, I always do! So do I.

Shawn. Just get him out of here.

He's the one
that has to make it.

Then I'm going
to k*ll you, Shawn.

I'll give you every
opportunity to do that, buddy.

We accept the terms
of your surrender.

Uh, you mean
you're surrendering.

Yeah. We're the ones
holding the g*ns here.

Well...

You and the 20 or so cops that are
waiting in lie around that corner.

Plus, hasn't there been
enough bloodshed already?

I mean first the lawyer,
then Ryan's poor super.

You guys are terrible at
cleaning up after yourselves.

Yeah, and you're lying
about the backup.

Look into my eyes
and tell me if I'm lying.

There's no backup.

They were telling the truth.

Apparently so.

That's a good
looking handlebar.

I wonder who his
mustache guy is.

Down on the ground, cowboy.

That's better.

Oh, good, you're both here.

Whoa, let me guess,
there's a b*mb on a bus

and if it goes below 50 miles per hour
the whole thing's going to explode!

No, no, no more lies.

I am quitting cold turkey,
turning over a new leaf.

Really?

No more Lyin' Ryan.
No.

Just like you said,
I am going to be just Ryan.

If you hadn't believed me an innocent
person would have ended up dead.

And all because I became a guy
who couldn't be taken at his word.

So I just wanted to come here
to thank you before I took off.

Well, if it's any consolation, I
believed you from the very beginning.

Especially since you
recognized I have great hair.

I was talking about him.

You were lying.
It's okay. I forgive you.

I'm coming around.
So where are you off to?

This is unbelievable. I got
tapped to captain a hot air balloon

in a multi-state regatta.
I take off tomorrow.

Hot air balloons
have captains?

Oh, yeah.
Of course they have captains.

Captains, first mates, deck
hands, I got really lucky.

It was a friend of a friend
of mine, kind of thing.

If you guys ever want a ride,
I mean come on, I owe you.

I'll even let you steer the thing,
just don't tell anyone, okay?

Take care of yourselves.

Man, I am glad
he is out of our life.

That's ridiculous.

Hot air balloon?

That's crazy though, right?

Yeah. It's not possible.

Do you think he would
really let us steer?

There's only one
way to find out.

You said you weren't going to
fall for any more of his stories.

No, I didn't. Whatever!
I knew you were lying.

You're a liar. Shotgun.
How am I a liar?

You can't call shotgun
on a hot air balloon, Shawn!

In between the lines
there's a lot of obscurity

I'm not inclined
to resign to maturity

If it's all right
then you're all wrong

But why bounce around
to the same damn song?

You'd rather run
when you can't crawl

I know, you know
That I'm not telling the truth

I know, you know
They just don't have any proof

Embrace the deception
Learn how to bend

Your worst inhibitions tend
to psych you out in the end

I know, you know

I know, you know