04x09 - Wish You Were Here

[bunniefuu]

Gus, is this Mariana?

Yes.

This... This is Mariana.

She's older.

Almost grown up.

[ Inhales sharply ]

I am so sorry, Mariana.

I'm sorry I left you.

[ Sniffles ]

You were such... such a good kid.

Mr. Wallace, I hate to interrupt you during this difficult time, but I need to ask a few questions.

Okay.

You are Mariana Wallace's next-of-kin?

I'm her brother.

It's confirmed by DNA.

Where was Mariana born?

In Washington, D.C., 1999.

But we moved to Baltimore when she was 6.

Is Baltimore where you would like Mariana's body transferred for cremation or burial?

I-I haven't... when... shen do I have to decide that?

Soon, I'm afraid.

May I please be alone with her?

Just... just... Just a few minutes.

I wish I could say yes, but I'm afraid it's not possible.

When you get her to a funeral home, they'll schedule visitation if you want.

[ Inhales deeply ]

[ Sobs ]

[ Cellphone vibrates ]

[ Door opens ]

[ Sighs ]

Yes, Lieutenant.

Ah, good morning, Captain.

Uh, Tao just sent you a link to a video that's gone virus on us.

Viral.

Uh, viral.

A-a viral video, uh, showing some guy dying, and Taylor wants Major Crimes to roll on this.

I guess social media is running us now the way the press used to.

[ Cellphone chimes ]

Hold on. I just received Mike's text.

[ Cellphone beeps ]

[ Woman scream ]

Man: Oh, my God. He's got a g*n.

Sir, drop the w*apon!

[ Engine revs ]

[ Siren chirping, tires screech ]

Drop the g*n now!

I said drop your w*apon now!

[ Breathing heavily ]

My wife.

I love my wife.

Put it down!

Suspect down. Send paramedics.

Sykes, what can you tell me I haven't already seen on the YouTube?

Sykes: Not including the 60,000-plus views the video has received online, we have 20 eyewitnesses, and they all say the same thing.

Our victim just appeared walking south down this street, g*n in hand, in his underwear, bleeding from the neck.

Along with those 60,000 views, lots of comments criticizing the L.A.P.D. for not rushing to his aid.

Not rushing to his...

He was armed and pointing the g*n at officers.

Right, Buzz, right, and that's why it's very important that you get a good, clear sh*t of the w*apon that the victim had with him.

Bluechecking his prints right now.

[ Beep ]

Tao: This is a high-crime area.

Hopefully he was a part of the problem.

Well, how did the problem end?

Kendall: Looks like a g*nsh*t wound at the base of the victim's skull, maybe from the w*apon he was carrying.

It's a .22 auto. [ Beep ]

Got a hit on the victim. Sending it to you now.

Flynn: Underwear screams su1c1de, but sh**ting yourself in the back of the head?

What an awkward way to go.

Also awkward... No exit wound.

Got to wait for Dr. Morales to dig out the b*llet to see if it matches the .22.

[ Cellphone chimes ] Here he is.

One conviction for petty theft, another for defrauding an innkeeper.

Why do we still call them innkeepers?

Why not hotelier or motelier?

What do we call the victim? Does he have a name?

John Price, Beverly Hills address.

[ Cellphone rings ] Yeah, well, he's a long way from home.

Yeah. Go ahead.

Hey, Lieutenant, I think I found the guy's shirt.

It was lying in the middle of the street two blocks north of here, sir.

What about his pants? Where did he pull those off?

Flynn: All right, the Seagull Motel.

It's about three blocks from here.

A uniformed officer said they found some bloody clothes in the parking lot.

Those might be the victim's pants, but the manager didn't recognize Mr. Price as one of her guests.

Well, he could have had someone else check in for him.

She gave us a list of everyone who checked in over the last 48 hours.

Not incredibly helpful.

Yeah, I bet there's a lot of Smiths and Joneses.

Uh, also a Don Juan, a Casanova, two Jack Bauers, and they all paid up-front in cash.

So classy.

This is another reason why I never, ever touch the remote control in a hotel room.

All guests have to write down their license plate number.

I've been checking out the vehicles parked here, and they all match up, sir, except the plumber's truck.

Well, let's see if he was on a service call to Room 110.

Clear!

Looks like someone broke up a party.

Ooh.

We'll get this blood tested to see if it belongs to our victim.

Buzz?

Oy.

Sir, looks like this is where he was att*cked.

Provenza: Yeah.

All right, so Price was lying on the bed when he was sh*t, and then what?

He came to? Went outside?

Got undressed as he was walking down the street?

Meanwhile, where's this, uh, Max the plumber guy?

Maybe he took Price's car to get rid of it, sir.

Yeah, but why leave Price behind?

And the g*n, too?

Well, all right. Let's put a want out on Max the plumber.

And, uh, Sykes, until we find him, why don't you stake out his house? Maybe he'll come home.

Yes, sir.

Uh, Lieutenant?

Over here in the trash.

Packaging for a new sheet set. 120 thread count.

Bargain-basement.

Well, this is not exactly the ritz.

Gentlemen, if you would provide uh, turndown service, please?

It's brand-new sheets, sir. Still creased from the package.

Well, I hate to ask, but underneath?

Yeah.

Wow.

All right, let's get S.I.D. in here.

Um, DNA on, well, everything, especially this...

And that.

Two bloodstains. Pause right there, Buzz.

[ Beep ]

Correct me if I'm wrong, but that stain is in a completely different place than the one on the bedspread.

No, you're right, Captain. Maybe the victim moved around.

I mean, he did walk for blocks with a b*llet in his head.

What about this Max the plumber?

Licensed and bonded. No criminal record, ma'am.

We searched his truck, and all we found were pipes and hand tools, typical stuff.

He was married, lived in Culver City, and hasn't been reported missing yet.

Sykes is watching his house. So far, nothing.

But here's something interesting on our victim.

Considering Mr. Price lived in Beverly Hills, when we did a search on a vehicle registered in his name, there wasn't one.

So, Mr. Price arrived at the motel in the back of Max the plumber's truck?

What is the Seagull Motel?

It's a dive surrounded by hookers, and it looks like there was something of a party going on.

But Price's last words were, "I love my wife."

Well, maybe he wanted her to know that he was sorry that he cheated on her, Buzz, and got sh*t by a prost*tute.

But if Mr. Price was sh*t, how did he end up with the g*n?

[ Door opens ] The doctor will see you now.

To be honest, I thought it would be worse, but this is a standard internal bleed-out caused by a traumatic injury.

And, well, here we are.

So the cause of death is what? Brain swelling?

As a result of the att*ck, yes.

But what about the b*llet?

Is it the same caliber as the w*apon he was carrying?

Uh, no.

You're absolutely positive?

In order to have a b*llet wound, Lieutenant, you need a b*llet, and after I cleaned the wound and measured for its depth, which is 3 1/2 inches, by the way, it became obvious that your victim was stabbed by a Phillips head screwdriver.

Sanchez: There was a plumber's truck parked outside the motel room, ma'am.

Yeah, full of tools.

And probably missing a screwdriver.

[ Sighs ]

But how can Gus be a witness in Al... in, um, Mariana's m*rder?

He wasn't even there.

Oh, Gus is now the first person that Andrea will call to the stand.

Why?

Well, he's the only one that can I.D. his sister.

And after that, Slider's defense will demand to know why Mariana ran away from him in Vegas.

[ Door opens ] And if he does that, will the L.A.P.D. help him find his other sister, Paloma?

[ Knock on door ] Yes, if we can determine she's actually missing from somewhere.

Come in.

The guy says he tried filing a missing-persons report on both sisters in Baltimore, but he didn't have standing, and then again in Vegas, where he didn't have standing.

I'm not quite sure how to file, either, unless we know this young girl went missing in L.A.

Now, I ran Paloma Wallace through MUPS.

[ Door opens ] No hit at all.

So, under normal circumstances, I'd say the D.A.'s investigators should...

I'm not spending a dime hunting down this Paloma girl until Gus answers my questions, which, so far, he's refusing to do.

Sharon: Does he say why?

Well, before he starts explaining everything I need to know, he's demanding that we pay for Alice...

Or Mariana, I guess... that we pay for her funeral.

How much would that cost?

Well, there's a State's victim's fund that will cover the first $2,000 of...

No, no, no.

Then he'll want us to put him up somewhere and find him a job.

Not doing it.

He gets zero support from the State until he gives me some answers.

Why don't I take him home with me?

He lost his family. He feels guilty.

I can relate to some of that.

Maybe what he needs is a good dinner and a decent night's sleep.

Do not volunteer to pay for the funeral or give him any money.

I'll just see what he wants.

Oderno, why don't you tell him to wait until you figure out a way that we can search for his sister?

And, Rusty, maybe you can keep Gus company until I'm done here today.

[ Door closes ]

Thank you, Andy.

Yeah. Uh, thanks, Lieutenant.

So, where are we on the screwdriver m*rder?

Anything I should know?

Follow me.

Max Riley, our a-rated plumber, is still our number-one suspect.

What does Amy have to report?

Tao: The suspect is still not answering his phone and is M.I.A.

But Mrs. Max the plumber's at home if you want to give her a try.

One second.

What else do we know about our victim, Mr. Price?

Whose last words were, "I love my wife"?

Tao: Since Price is officially single, we should assume he meant his ex-wife, Gretchen Tucker.

They were married for three years, divorced for two.

Flynn: According to Mr. Price's driver's license, he still lives with her.

Sanchez: Well, he also uses one of his ex-wife's vehicles.

In the past year alone, he's blown through four red lights in Beverly Hills, driving a 2012 Chevy Tahoe registered in her name, ma'am.

Explains why he doesn't have his own car.

Beverly Hills? Is Gretchen well-off?

Tao: Her father d*ed four years ago, was the head of a hugely successful construction firm.

Left her $30 million plus.

And the g*n our known victim carried, any chance he was the registered owner?

No, and neither was Max.

The actual w*apon is registered to a...

Mr. Eric Schuman.

We have a nationwide want out on him.

I doubt if we'll find him.

Why?

Well, Eric has been officially a missing person for nine months.

[ Sighs ]

[ Door opens ] So, in other words, I should come back when you're further along.

It's a good idea, yes.

Flynn: So, Captain, what's next?

Angela: Max isn't here. He's at work.

Can I ask what this is about?

Oh, we're investigating a case, and we believe your husband was a witness.

Is there any reason why Mr. Riley might have been at a motel this morning, ma'am?

A motel?

Uh, yeah, he's probably just working a job.

Some of those older places have horrible piping.

Hmm. Do you know what time your husband will be home, ma'am?

No, I don't.

And I'd try calling him for you, but he left his cellphone in the... in the bathroom this morning.

So, if he checks in with me, should I tell him anything?

Just ask him to give us a call when he gets a second, please.

We'll be in the office late today.

Thank you for your time, ma'am.

Good day.

No problem.

Ms. Tucker, your ex-husband, John Price, may we ask why he still drives a vehicle registered in your name?

I gave it to him as part of our divorce settlement, so it's his, not mine.

He's so lazy.

He never changed the vehicle registration or the address on his driver's license, apparently.

We can't find his residence. Do you know where he lives?

No idea at all.

He hasn't invited me over, that's for sure.

He seems to be unemployed.

Because he can't find a job worthy of his genius, yes.

Well, we assume that you pay his alimony, so where do you send the checks?

Right into his bank.

But that was all over two months ago, so John can kiss the gravy train goodbye.

Financially, I owe him nothing.

Well, if you dislike Mr. Price so much, why did you marry him in the first place?

I've asked myself that a hundred times.

I was young.

I'm guessing that wasn't your answer.

He was handsome, talked a good game.

I mean, he sold it.

The "I love you" stuff... [ Sighs ]

He sold it really well.

[ Engine turns over ]

Max's wife is on the move.

Tao: Huh. That's even faster than I'd hoped for.

Okay, stay with her. Stay with her.

Hopefully, she's off to see her husband.

We've got your back.

Ms. Tucker, do you know if your ex-husband might be in the habit of visiting prostitutes?

I'd say it was less a habit and more a compulsion.

If he'd been a woman, we'd call him a nympho.

Men are just virile.

You asked me why I'd want to marry him?

I'd say it's more like why did he want to marry me?

Of course, he was deeply attracted to my checking account.

Why are you asking me these questions about John?

Did something happen?

What?

What?

Ms. Tucker, we're sorry to have to inform you that your ex-husband was m*rder*d this morning.

We have reason to believe that this man was involved.

Do you recognize him?

No, I'm... I'm sorry. I...

[ Sighs ]

I-I don't think I've ever seen him before.

Why? How?

I-I mean, what happened?

Well, I'm afraid we can't answer those questions at this time.

Ms. Tucker, before he d*ed, John's last words were, "I love my wife."

He said...

Thought you'd want to know.

Son of a bitch.

He lied about everything.

Sykes: Okay, the only place she could be going from here is the parking lot to the marina.

Tao: Hmm. Do you think Max the plumber owns a yacht?

I don't know.

How far are we from the original crime scene?

About two miles away from the motel where John Price was stabbed, if that's what you mean.

Amy, can you see what she's doing?

She's on her phone, texting, I think.

She's searching for something.

Looks like she found it.

You in there, you assh*le?!

That's John Price's vehicle.

Max! Max!

You said never again!

Son of a bitch.

What? You think I wasn't gonna catch you?!

L.A.P.D.!

If Max isn't in there, he was!

And he left in a hurry! I can tell you that!

That's not your husband's Tahoe, ma'am.

It belongs to a man named John Price.

Oh!

What makes you so sure Max is in this vehicle?

And how did you know how to find it?

It's none of your damn business.

Okay, then. You're under arrest for vandalism.

Uh, step this way, please.

You have the right to remain silent.

Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.

You have the right to an attorney. [ Beeps ]

If you cannot afford one...

Yes, Captain.

Mrs. Riley did lead us to find her husband, Max the plumber.

But circumstances indicate that he's less like a suspect and more like a victim.

Yeah.

Can I ask you a question?

Always.

Um, Gus doesn't have a lot of money, and I know that funerals are expensive, so what happens to Alic... To Mariana if... if Gus can't afford to bury her?

The State will assume the cost.

Meaning she'll be cremated with the rest of the Jane and John Does?

Um, unfortunately.

Look, journalists and police officers have this in common.

We can't force the story to end the way we want.

Yeah, but Mariana deserves a proper burial.

Well, unless Gus will tell us why Mariana ran away from him in Vegas, the State can only do so much.

What about Paloma, though?

Don't the police have some kind of obligation to find her or... or at least check to make sure that she's okay?

M-Mariana could have run off to any place, but she came here.

Doesn't that prove that Paloma must at least be nearby?

No.

Which is partially why Andy took Gus home with him last night.

Look, why don't you come to work with me today and show Gus everything you've collected on Mariana?

Maybe he'll see that we're on his side.

We were supposed to be partners, tied together with vows taken in front of our friends and family.

And then last year, Max had an affair.

Said it was nothing. A mistake.

My mom said, "believe him or leave him."

So I gave him back my trust 100%.

Uh-huh. 100%.

Less than 30 minutes after we talked, you went searching for Max.

Using this locator you had on his key chain.

Did he even know what this was?

That son of a bitch!

When I heard the word "motel,"

I knew exactly what was going on!

I just wanted to catch him in the act!

Okay, ma'am, you need to try and calm down.

Take some deep breaths.

Take a couple of [Inhales] big, deep breaths.

Count to 10.

We need you to try and pull it together.

Using a GPS tracker to follow your husband?

Is no one safe?

It's not GPS.

It's a Bluetooth crowdsourcing locator.

Well, what the hell is a Bluetooth crowd control locator?

Not crowd control. Crowdsourcing.

Bluetooth has a limited range, so it has to hop on to other apps.

Before I go on, do you really care about this answer?

Excellent point. I'm very good at crowd control.

Crowdsourcing.

Whatever.

Okay. Let's get this over with.

Sykes: Had your husband ever introduced you to this man?

No. Why?

Because the vehicle in which we found your husband's body belonged to him.

And we have reason to believe Max may have met up with this man at an area motel.

Wh...

You mean f... for sex?

Is that even a possibility?

I don't think so, no.

Max wasn't gay.

He loved women.

Just not me.

Unless Max's wife is confessing, maybe you should see what else was in the Tahoe.

What'd you find?

In addition to the hockey bag with Max Riley's body, the original bloody sheets from the motel.

John Price was so disorganized that the contents of his Tahoe created a picture of who he was.

Does this picture include an address?

Well, not exactly, but starting over here, we have a collection of used appliance parts, motors, gas connectors.

A pair of coveralls, a tool set, several screwdrivers, ma'am.

Tao, what is this card supposed to be with the eight numbers written on it?

Oh, that was taped to the sun visor on the driver's side of the Tahoe.

81329084.

Could be a password or an access code to something.

Hmm, either/or.

But what it gives us access to, I'm not sure.

Maybe the garage to his apartment building or office.

Everything that we're looking at here suggests that Price worked in some kind of repair shop, and there are hundreds of those in Los Angeles.

Which brings us over here.

Fast food to-go bags, Tao?

Well, not just to-go bags.

To-go receipts... Approximately 125 of them.

Now, this is where it gets interesting.

Oh. This is the moment I've been waiting for.

The majority of the receipts... 87 of them...

Belonged to Pedro's Panini Truck.

And they're time-stamped from 11:45 A.M. to 12:30 P.M.

John Price ate from the same food truck every day around the same time?

And food trucks drive around.

Well, maybe Mr. Price lived or worked on Pedro's route, ma'am.

Which I have marked on this map here with these tiny, little flags, each one indicating a stop on Pedro's route between 11:15 A.M. and 2:45 P.M.

Mike, Amy, Julio, grab Buzz and a couple of patrol cars and search the area where the food truck stopped, and let's hope that the number on this card corresponds to an access code of something.

[ Sighs ] Doctor, what a surprise.

Isn't it? I was across the street testifying at a trial, and I figured I'd bring the good news to you in person.

Good news? What good news?

As you suspected, your second victim was k*lled like your first...

A Phillips head screwdriver to the base of the skull.

But when the screwdriver entered Max Riley's neck, it severed the segment of his upper spinal cord connecting his brain to the rest of his body, stopped his autonomic nervous system cold.

Do you think the k*ller was aiming for that segment of the spinal cord?

I don't know.

But an inch to the left or right and you'd miss it altogether, which might explain why the first victim was left behind.

k*ller was assuming he couldn't move.

Exactly.

So the k*ller took Max out, planning on returning for the second victim.

But the k*ller didn't return because maybe he saw that victim on the YouTube wandering down the streets of L.A.

Sanchez: Pedro recognized Price, but he serves 1,000 paninis a day.

Doesn't get much past "hello" with anyone.

So, let's go to the next place on Pedro's route, leave patrol behind, and try the access code on apartment buildings because there are no repair shops around here.

Hey, what if instead of a repair shop, Mr. Price was working in a scrap-metal place?

There's one just down the street.

And it has a gate with a keypad.

Hmm.

[ Door buzzes ]

♪

Wait here.

♪

Hey, guys!

Tao.

♪

[ Blows ]

[ Grunts ]

Buzz, here. Film this.

Buzz: Two more hockey bags.

[ Groans ]

I appreciate what you guys did for her, Lieutenant.

But Mariana's dead.

And if no one will help me bury her, I need to move on to finding Paloma with or without you.

Hey, look, all we're asking you to do, really, is tell us why Mariana ran away from you when you went to see her at that shelter in Vegas.

Why?

Why?

Because it's important in helping us put her m*rder*r on death row.

Doesn't that mean anything to you?

I'd trade that any day of the week to find Paloma alive.

I can make a new life for us.

I deserve a chance to do that.

So, you want us to return Paloma to you?

That's what this is all about?

Yeah. What do you think I meant?

Well, I thought you wanted us to find her, not that you wanted custody.

Okay.

Let me try to get the D.A. back in here.

Let's see if we can make you a deal.

[ Chuckles ]

Tao: The only thing of interest on Mr. Price's computer other than a vast Internet p*rn history is this video file of our two chilled bodies.

Yeah, combine that with the fact that he had another hockey bag and three brand-new sets of sheets, uh, 120 thread count, then I'd say that makes Mr. Price our k*ller except for the fact that he was also a victim.

But why would anybody keep two dead bodies in a cooler behind where they live and film them?

How about the guy was a freak?

Captain, I positively identified your two latest victims.

The first, as you know, Eric Schuman, worked as a cement mason.

Went missing about nine months ago, along with his .22 auto that John Price was carrying when he dropped dead in the street.

Your second victim, Paul Donahue, worked as a painter.

Also reported missing in Fullerton three months later.

And guess where both these guys were last seen?

Cheap motels.

Right.

Also, according to Dr. Morales, both these men were k*lled in the same way...

Stabbed in the back of the head with a screwdriver.

All four of our victims, blue-collar workers.

And all of them were k*lled with the same w*apon, unless they didn't all die.

Mr. Price didn't die so fast.

Only because whoever tried to k*ll him missed, Tao.

Or maybe he saw it coming.

Guys, I just found a copy of a field report from five years ago... A victim, Douglas Alan Martin, att*cked in a motel parking lot with a screwdriver.

Claimed it was a homeless guy he couldn't I.D.

Uh, no charges filed.

Doug Martin, age 30, ma'am.

Linkedln says he's a surveyor at Caltrans and he's listed as married.

Sharon: Hmm. And he's another construction worker.

I would like to ask Mr. Martin if we can have a good look at his resume.

Provenza: This homeless guy that att*cked you with a screwdriver, it seems like you didn't get a very good look at him.

No, he, uh... he came up from behind out of nowhere.

And at that time, you lived where?

My wife and I had a studio apartment over by Burbank.

Why?

I was just wondering what you were doing in the motel parking lot that night.

Oh.

Um, my wife's mom and dad came in from out of town just visiting.

By the hour, I assume.

So, if we called up your in-laws and asked them if they stayed at the Sleepy Fox Motel on Victory Boulevard, they'd recall the amazing breakfast buffet?

[ Chuckles ]

Well, I don't know if they would recall the Sleepy Fox specifically.

I mean, they've stayed at a lot of places since then.

Oh. Let's talk about your work history.

You're a surveyor?

Yeah.

You ever work for C.J. Tucker Construction building apartment buildings downtown?

Sure. Sure.

And, um, they gave me an excellent reference.

By "they," do you mean her?

Uh...

Am I in trouble here?

No.

Not nearly as much trouble as these guys.

Four hardworking men all k*lled with a screwdriver to the back of the head.

Does that sound familiar?

Look, I'm married, okay?

My wife and I, we were going through a rough period.

We're good now.

You can't tell her about this, please.

You... you can't. If she finds out...

Everything you say stays strictly in this room.

You have my word.

Okay, I'll tell you.

Um, I had an affair with Gretchen.

And I'm not making excuses, but...

Here come the excuses.

I was young, I was immature, and Gretchen was...

Available?

More than available.

I was working for her dad.

She'd come by a couple times a week just to have lunch with me, and she was... she was really hot, you know?

Then we started renting motel rooms now and then...

Until Ms. Tucker tried to k*ll you.

She asked if I loved her.

I thought she was kidding.

She was married. I was married.

She made it clear, you know, several times.

I mean, it was just fun and games, so when she asked if I loved her...

You said no.

Apparently.

I couldn't see her face 'cause she was rubbing my back, and then I don't even know where the screwdriver came from.

And it wasn't just the fact that she tried to s*ab me in the head.

It was the screaming, that I lied to her, I used her.

I had to punch her in the face just to get out of there and drive myself to the hospital.

So you made up the story about the homeless guy.

Look, I didn't want my wife to find out.

But more than that, Gretchen...

She was Tucker's daughter.

They made it very clear I could either be arrested for as*ault and r*pe or I could quit with a good recommendation.

What would you have done?

I don't know why we couldn't have just done this yesterday.

We apologize, Ms. Tucker, but before the L.A.P.D. can release a body, it's standard procedure to record the identification process by a friend or a family member.

Well, I'm neither, but okay.

And you can release the body to whomever you want.

Just not to me.

Oh, almost forgot.

Because this is a criminal investigation, we need you to sign this document.

This looks like a Miranda warning.

We require everyone to sign that before looking at a m*rder victim.

We wish we could make an exception.

Okay, initial here, "right to remain silent."

Mm-hmm.

And then here, "right to an attorney."

And if you would please sign right there.

[ Groans ]

[ Chuckles ] My tax dollars hard at work.

Okay. Fine.

Thank you. Great.

Want to stand here?

Mm-hmm.

[ Clears throat ]

[ Sighs deeply ]

You ready?

As I'll ever be.

Okay.

N... that's not my husband.

Oh, this is the wrong man. I'm so sorry.

Lieutenant!

Forgive us, Ms. Tucker.

There's been a little, uh... little mixup.

Here we go.

Oh, sorry, ma'am. Is this your ex-husband?

Oh!

No, no. This is John Price.

But if you could help us identify these other men, that would be very helpful.

Sharon: They all worked on construction sites owned by your father's company.

Now, going by what Doug Martin said, you m*rder*d these gentlemen when they wouldn't say they loved you.

No, her ex-husband loved her very much.

No, he didn't!

He's framed me somehow for the... whatever these are!

John hated me!

But his dying words were, "I love my wife," and he stuck by you.

No.

After you m*rder*d these three men, your ex-husband disposed of their bodies and the evidence.

He loved you enough to do all that, and you k*lled him anyway... Why?

I'm gonna guess that it's because your ex-husband kept all your former boyfriends on ice so he could blackmail you with their bodies.

Is that what he tried to do, Ms. Tucker?

When you cut off the alimony you "didn't have to pay him"?

Lies! They are all lies!

Could you turn toward the camera, please?

Stop filming me! Stop filming me right now!

Do you know who I am?! Do you?!

Get off of me!

[ Breathing heavily ]

These men...

Were rapists.

They took advantage of me.

It's not m*rder if you k*ll the person raping you!

Not her best angle, Captain, but I have it.

Ms. Tucker, you are under arrest on four counts of m*rder in the first degree with special circumstances of lying in wait.

[ Handcuffs clicking ]

[ Sighs ]

It was self-defense.

I was defending myself.

I look forward to hearing all of you apologize in court.

Ms. Tucker has been booked, and I expect we'll find enough DNA evidence to go with our statement.

Probably thinks she can get someone to clean up after this mess, too.

Speaking of which... [ Scoffs ]

How are we supposed to notify the wives of our other victims?

I mean, what are we supposed to say?

Sanchez: "Sorry, ma'am, your husband d*ed from a hole in his head because he wouldn't tell another woman that he loved her"?

Not a great conversation starter.

I've asked Robby Oderno to do the notification.

Well, that sounds reasonable, Captain.

I mean, after all, we did all the hard work by finding his missing persons.

No deal for Gretchen Tucker.

But, Lieutenant, you think you found a way to broker cooperation from Gus?

Little bit of leverage, yeah.

Sharon?

Good luck.

Buzz, Buzz, do I have to get a computer to watch the YouTube?

Buzz: Your phone's a computer, sir.

Here. Let me show you.

[ Chuckles ] The YouTube.

It's amazing how fast the world changes.

Well, sir, YouTube's been around for about a decade.

Well, so I should wrap my mind around it while it's still new.

[ Laughs ] Meow, meow, meow.

[ Chuckles ]

[ Laughs ]

Look, I know you've already done a lot for Mariana, but no funeral is bad.

Not hunting for Paloma is worse.

An official search for my baby sister...

Look, Gus, it's the word "official" that has us all tripped up.

Your sister is only 12.

So?

So that makes Paloma a critical missing, which means we have to use every resource available to us to find her...

And return her to your parents.

No. No.

B-but that's why Mariana d*ed!

I-it's why she ran away from me, because she thought I-I wanted to take her home!

What do you mean by that?

When I found my mother, I was sure that I could pull my family together and make it work.

But when I told Mariana that, she freaked out.

I backed off it, but... But she didn't believe me.

And because she thought I was gonna drag her home...

Look what happened.

Look what happened!

But if we find Paloma officially, then everything you just told us gets investigated.

And if your mother and stepfather prove unsuitable, Paloma enters foster care in Nevada.

Wait. Foster care?

That's just how it works.

[ Sighs ] Which is why I'm asking you to let me hunt for your little sister off the books.

Um, Gus, look, I found you unofficially, man, and I-I didn't even know what I was doing.

They... they have a whole law-enforcement community to draw on.

Hey, hey, listen to me.

Last time you tried to do things your way, it didn't turn out so well.

So why not let the professionals have a go at it?

And you promise me you'll do everything you can to find Paloma?

I can trust you to do that?

On my honor as an L.A.P.D. detective, I swear.

Deal?

What about Mariana? Will you help me bury her?

One thing at a time.

First you cooperate.

Then we'll see about Mariana, okay?

Okay.

What do you want to know?

Lieutenant.

If you are going to be around my life more often, then that promise you just made to Gus had better be real and not just something you said to make a witness cooperate.

Oh?

Well, finding Paloma might not be everything Gus hopes for.

But I intend to do it.

Just don't hold me responsible for the outcome.

By the time I got back, I didn't even know my family moved.

I went back to the house, and everyone was gone.

There was another family living there.