02x03 - Story of a g*n

[bunniefuu]

♪ They say I just got a buck,
uh, get into it, yuh ♪

♪ Pop out with a truck, ha,
get into it, yuh ♪

♪ If you go to church,
I said get into it, yuh ♪

♪ And if she ain't got a butt ♪

♪ Get into it, yuh ♪

♪ And I say I just got a buck... ♪

- (INDISTINCT CHATTER)
- (PHONE DINGS)

♪ Pop out with a truck, get into... ♪

(MUSIC CONTINUING IN DISTANCE)

♪ Get into it, yuh. ♪

- Watch out!
- (ALL SCREAM)

- (MUSIC STOPS)
- (GROANS, COUGHS)

Hey, get out. We have to go check.

(COUGHING)

Damn.

I think she's dead.

Dude, we got to do something.

No, totally, you're right.

No cap, we almost just d*ed.

There's this car here on the side

of the road, there's money everywhere.

I think this chick is dead.

♪ ♪

(MOANS)

Did you lock the door?

- Yes.
- Yes.

Okay.

(PHONE RINGING)

Is it work?

Uh...

It's a guy I grew up with,
but it's probably,

- like, his call from jail or something.
- (LAUGHS) Wait,

did you need to get it?

Uh...

No.

You know, he would understand.

- Yeah. Oh!
- Yeah?

(LAUGHS)

He sounds like a bad influence.

Oh, you go to cut people like that out.

Maybe you should block him.

- Oh, you got a lot of people you block?
- Mm-hmm.

How many people you got on that list?

- (BOTH PHONES RINGING)
- What?

Okay.

All right.

(SIGHS) It's work. You can't block that.

Whatever it is, let's solve it fast.

Here she is.

Detective, you want
to take his statement?

So, uh, you two ride in together?

- Carpooling's good for the planet, boss.
- Carpooling.

That's what they're calling it nowadays?

Mm-hmm.

You know, Catherine
told me that, uh, you two

had to pump the brakes
on that, uh, search?

- For whoever k*lled her friend?
- Yeah.

Yeah.

All right. Well,

while I've got you,
I want you to run this.

Our victim's name is Mindy Downs.

She was found dead in her car
by a group of teens.

They carpooled up here to quote/unquote,

"drink in peace".

Any other witnesses?

That's the thing about
a ghost town... nobody's talking.

And the kids weren't involved?

No, I cleared 'em.
Neither set of tire tracks

matched their vehicle.

- Two sets of tracks.
- Mm.

So that's why highway patrol
called us all the way up here.

That, and our kid driver said
that there was another car

fishtailing out of the scene
when they drove up,

almost hit 'em.

And there's a little case

of all this loose cash

- just floating around.
- Yep.

Lots of it.

Well, whoever hit her left
some of their headlight behind.

And if she was rammed
into the telephone pole,

the back end would be totaled,

but it kind of looks like
she ran into it herself.

Maybe, maybe not.

You know how it is with collisions...

- so much evidence, so many possibilities.
- Mm.

Mindy's registration was
in her glove compartment.

She lives up the way.
Treasure Hill. Ooh.

- Looks like the bag got tossed in the accident.
- Whoa.

Somebody was on their way out of town.

- Or robbed a stagecoach.
- (CHUCKLES)

Yeah, maybe we should
ask the barkeep at the saloon.

Jack.

Introduce us to Ms. Downs.

I've had all of three minutes
with her, but

her liver temp puts her
time of death at : a.m.

Contusions, abrasions, broken nose.

She didn't buckle up for safety.

Well, the front end's not
totaled. She couldn't have

been going more than miles an
hour. And the airbag's deployed.

I know. Her injuries don't
seem like they'd be fatal.

So how'd she die?

I don't think the blood

on her chest came from her nose.

Hey, Jack, can you pull
Mindy back for me, please?

Sure thing.

ROBY: Oh, would you look at that.

Damn. That's an entry wound.

Road rage?

Doesn't look like
it was motivated by money.

They sh*t her and left
it all blowing around.

No traffic cams. No witnesses.

- Just ghosts.
- You know,

K*llers always leave a trail, Joshua.

Just have to find it.

♪ ♪

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪

♪ I really wanna know ♪

♪ Who... are you? ♪

- ♪ Oh-oh-oh ♪
- ♪ Who... ♪

♪ Come on, tell me who are you,
you, you ♪

♪ Are you! ♪

JACK: No soot, burns
or stippling around the wound.

Whoever sh*t Ms. Downs
wasn't in the car with her.

I mean, it couldn't have
been that close, right?

- Can we see the slug?
- Sonya's got to pull it at autopsy.

The last time I disturbed evidence

before it got to my sister's morgue,

she shaved off my eyebrows in my sleep.

My little sister scares me, too.

- I got ahold of the husband.
- Mm.

He's gonna come in for an ID.
Thinking we get a GSR test.

Catherine's back at the lab.
Ask her to run a kit.

Your antennae up?

-I didn't love his vibe on the phone. And, you know,
-Mm.

spouses are always worth a look.

Even if the smart money is on road rage.

Wouldn't be the first time somebody

with a hair-trigger temper

had a trigger in their pocket, mm?

That why you don't carry?

Um, no.

I'm not quick to temper.

I just think that

a criminalist's best
w*apon is her brain.

Hey, Al, how we doing?

So...

no b*llet casings in the
car, no b*llet casings

within a -foot radius outside the car.

Maybe the k*ller knew well
enough to clean up their brass.

Only thing I know for sure

is tire tracks point to
Mindy driving south.

Maybe her k*ller intimidates
her from behind, clips her car.

She's distracted by his aggression,

doesn't see the pole.

But that wasn't enough for him.

Boom.

Except...

Mindy was sh*t before she hit the pole.

If she'd been sh*t

after the accident...

there'd be blood spatter
on the right side of the airbag,

but look.

There's no spatter,
and just blots. So...

She was sh*t before the crash.

Boy.

They hit a target moving fast.
We're looking

for a hell of a sh**t.

I thought you just wanted
us to come and identify Mindy.

I appreciate your help, Mr. Downs.

I know this can't be easy.

This is just a standard test
for g*nsh*t residue.

- To rule you out.
- Bighorn season's

just started. Uh, I-I haven't
even gone out yet,

so you're not gonna find anything on me.

Mindy had a bag full of cash and clothes

in the back seat of her car.

Was she going on a trip?

I don't know.

I don't know about the cash. That's...

I'm not sure. I've been so busy

at my garage... I'm a mechanic... and

Mindy's been lonely.

I think she was going her mom's.

She was going to Mom's again?

She didn't tell me that.

Is that out of the ordinary?

She usually tells me.

You were right.

Um, there's nothing here.

We'll be in touch.

Thank you.

Amy.

Call me if anything occurs to you.

Thanks.

. long r*fle stinger. Hollow point.

Not my first. We see those a lot.

Fits both pistols and r*fles.

The wound cavity is more compact
than expected for a . .

Something must have

slowed the b*llet down,
maybe ricocheted off a bone.

I want a radiograph
to be sure. But first,

let me get your angle measurements.

I'll need an extra hand with that...

Trajectory rod?

Hm.

I know Dr. Ramirez did not like you.

I think maybe he was wrong.

Thank you. I guess.

Thirty-six.

Forty-two.

Forty-four.

- FOLSOM: Okay.
- (DOOR OPENS, CLOSES)

Hey, what you got?

Our sh**t was a little behind
and to the right of Mindy,

sh**ting downward. About degrees.

- That's a really steep angle.
- Maybe the sh*t

came from inside a lifted pickup truck?

ROBY: But a pickup truck that large

would have crushed her car
when they hit it, right?

- My next guess was a monster truck.
- This...

- Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!
- (LAUGHS)

Come on, you've never
heard of demolition derby?

Mm-hmm, no.

Okay, well, you know.

Um, found the b*llet, and...

Hold on.

Almost missed this.

There's something on this.

Yeah. Something green.

It's like the b*llet
passed through something

before hitting Mindy.

Or maybe they coated their a*mo with it?

I'm gonna go get Beau to run this.

Sonya gave you a itty bitty gift.

Say thank you, Joshua.

Thank you.

PARK: Tiniest sample of all time.

Well, like my wife always says...

a little goes a long way.

When she's cooking with saffron.

I'll, uh... go to Ballistics.

♪ ♪

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATION)

- That could be the thing slowing it down.
- It could.

- Boss?
- It could... Yeah?

Polypropylene, huh.

Back in the private sector, we
used to put it in everything.

Rope, twine, tape,

carpeting, upholstery,

fast fashion, camping equipment,

- cooking equipment...
- Shrimp cocktail,

shrimp gumbo... It's Beau-ba Gump.

- (LAUGHS) Do I have a sign on my back?
- We only haze

the ones we love,
and I think what Folsom

is referring to that every product

in the world

is not the lead we're looking for.

Maybe the sh**t

used a product made from polypropylene

as a makeshift sil*ncer.

I've been, uh,

thinking about what
you're going through,

and, uh, I know it's got to be tough,

working with Chavez, but

I think if you give her a chance,
you'll really like her.

What do you mean? Wh...

Have I been weir...

- Shut up, dude.
- (LAUGHS)

Chavez is really pretty.

You're just jealous that Folsom
got to her first, so don't

take it out on me, okay?

- Touché.
- (CHUCKLES)

Seriously,

have I been acting weird?

- Do people think I'm being rude?
- (PHONE DINGS)

Let's get this into NIBIN
and see if we can get a match

- on some old crime.
- I would love to stay

and get teased mercilessly,

but I'm needed in Reconstruction.

Huh. Interesting.

I, uh...

Yeah. Folsom didn't text me.

Stop.

- Oh.
- Hey.

So, the b*llet is running through NIBIN.

Oh. (CHUCKLES) What have we here?

- Puzzle.
- Hm.

Headlight glass from the car
that crashed into Mindy.

If we can figure out
the make and model of their car,

might be able to ID the sh**t.

I mean, before I help you, I am

going to need to hear you to say it.

You are the jigsaw puzzle queen.

See? That wasn't so hard,
was it, Joshua?

Didn't like that.

- (GIGGLES)
- (POUNDING)

- Yeah?
- Yo, it's Trey.

Hey, Trey. What's going on, man?

I tried calling, so I came through.

Why are you here?

I need a favor.

I got pranked.

Someone filled my car

with freakin' weasels.
Hundreds of 'em, man.

Weasel... your, uh, your
old nickname, right?

Well, I got to get whoever it is back.

I figure all our friends
are already in the system.

Can you lift the prints,

help me figure out

which of the pricks did it?

I'd love to help to you, man,
but we have a policy against

using work equipment for personal use.

You got it good here, Folsom.

Hi, I'm Trey.

Hey. Allie.

This is Allie?

Oh, I've heard about you.

Yeah...

- I get it.
- Uh, hey,

we-we got, uh... Huh?

- Allie's got some work to do, so...
- Yeah.

Bye, Allie.

- Bye, Trey.
- Oh.

Oh, I, uh, talked to your mom
the other day.

Jeanette... she's out?

Yeah, got her some scratchers,

say welcome home.

Yeah, she was always
like a mom to me, too,

so, you know, yeah, no biggie.

Hey-hey, you know what, man...

I'll see what I can do.

Thanks. Thanks, brother.

All right.

He seems fun.

Huh.

(DOOR ROLLS CLOSED)

Um, is it possible that Mindy's
car was hit by Mindy's car?

So, wh... I-I'm sorry...

The broken headlight
at the scene is the same

make and model of car as Mindy's. Look.

I am the queen of jigsaw
puzzles, aren't I?

(BOTH CHUCKLE)

So, this is your car, right?

Uh-huh. (CLEARS THROAT)

Headlight. Yeah?

And this is Mindy's car.

Same make and model.

Yeah. Yeah, I fix Saabs,

and, uh, we both love them, so, I...

I bought got her one.

You are a hunter.

Do you own any . caliber weapons?

I don't.

I prefer a heavier gauge.

- One sh*t, one k*ll.
- CHAVEZ: You got any

hunting buddies with a .

willing to let you borrow theirs?

- I did not hurt my wife.
- CHAVEZ: Well, I think

Mindy finally worked up
the nerve to pack a bag,

grab some cash and leave you.

- But you wouldn't let her.
- No, she wasn't leaving me.

Your sister-in-law Amy
seems to think she was.

- This is ridiculous.
- How did your

broken headlight end up at the scene?

Mindy called me, okay?

But it went straight to voice mail.

And when I finally got the message...

... she sounded hurt.

So I raced down the road.

I was so freaked out

that I missed the brake
and I slid into her.

But she, uh...

she was already dead.

CHAVEZ: You expect us to believe that?

You left when you saw Mindy was dead.

Why didn't you call ?

I got scared.

- I d...
- You didn't want to be a suspect.

My marriage... it wasn't perfect.

But I loved Mindy.

And I had nothing

to do with this.

You have to believe me.

Hell, take Mindy's word for it.

(GRUNTS)

(GRUNTS) I'm sorry.

I... I'm hurt, I need your help.

- (TIRES SCREECH)
- (ENGINE REVS)

I think the husband's telling the truth.

It sounds like she was sh*t
well before she wrecked.

Makes sense.

I think we can work backwards
from where she crashed.

Use her voice mail as a reference

and find the exact location

- she was sh*t.
- You hear that screech

just before it ended?

I'm hurt, I need your help.

- (TIRES SCREECH)
- (METAL SCRATCHING)

She scraped something.

Well, the sh*t had
to happen before that.

♪ ♪

Hey. This could be the spot.

Looks like she jerked the wheel
without braking.

I mean, that would cause
these centrifugal skid marks.

I call them yaw marks.

Right. I bet getting sh*t in the neck

would explain the suddenness...

Centrifugal skid marks.

You think this is where Mindy was sh*t?

That's the theory.

So, where was the sh**t
when they took their sh*t?

There's no shoulder on the road here.

It would be impossible for
someone to drive alongside her.

Or even stand to take a sh*t
at a speeding motorist.

And even if she was
in the oncoming lane,

the sh**t would be too
close. The wound cavity

would be larger. Plus, it's-it's
not even the right angle.

RAJAN: . LR cartridges

can also used by r*fles.

Well, that would explain
the compact permanent cavity.

I can't believe I'm about to say this,

but we might be looking for

a long-range marksman

who knows how
to lead a target in motion.

You think Mindy was sh*t
from up in the hills...

by, like, a sn*per?

- Yes.
- Yes.

Well.

The Wonder Twins are in agreement.

So...

our search area just got
a hell of a lot bigger.

RAJAN: That looks about centimeters.

Now I really don't know
where the sh**t was standing.

I think % load is still way too high.

k*ller had to be over yards away.

You're right.

The b*llet would've
punctured Mindy's lungs

at this depth.

Okay, well, maybe % load capacity

is enough to slow our b*llet down.

Have you talked to Trey?

No.

Why?

(GRUNTS SOFTLY)

Yeah, Trey's a nice guy.

When he wants something.

I'd probably be smart
to block his number.

f*ring one at %.

f*ring one at %.

Are you at least going
to run the prints for him?

I don't know.

centimeters.

feet per second

- at % load capacity.
- Wow,

we're gonna have a broad search
radius no matter the result.

We'll be canvassing for days.

I can go ahead and start the canvassing

if you want to hang back.

What?

Run those prints for Trey.

- Allie...
- My childhood friends are just like you guys.

We've grown up and we've grown apart.

But those old friends... there's...

there's roots under the wall.

I don't see them and we're
in different places, but...

I thrive today

because of them.

(COMPUTER TRILLS)

Is this right?

So, somebody sh*t Mindy
from almost a mile away?

Velocity was our missing quotient,

and the numbers don't lie.

We're talking about
army sn*per accuracy.

Someone with a world-class skill set...

targeting a paralegal?

Or it's random. Like a roadside sn*per,

like Malvo in Virginia.

Mm, I don't think it's either.

Look, this is the search radius.

This is Mindy's home in
Treasure Hill, up in the hills

above the road from where she was sh*t.

Mindy's husband is an avid hunter.

This sh*t could have come
from her own backyard.

If it did, somebody had to hear it.

Nobody heard anything. And
we have talked to everyone.

We haven't talked to him yet.

Hey, boys.

Any of you hear a g*nsh*t
two nights ago?

I heard a g*nsh*t the other night.

CASH: No, no, those were fireworks.

Uh, Reggie, those jackholes,
they were letting 'em off.

Nah, they ran out of fireworks
on Thursday.

When Reggie pushed you.

How old are you, dude? Don't you know

what a g*nsh*t sounds like?

Yeah, those were fireworks, you idiot.

-Hey, hey,
-WOMAN: Hey, Cash,

- knock it off. not in...
- uh, Cash, Cash, Cash, Cash.

Don't you got any sense,
fighting in front of cops?

FINADO (ON RADIO):
Hey, guys, found something.

You go, I got this.

Hey, trailer park front office
put these out a few days ago.

Advertising for the new lots.
First expansion in years.

Looks like

the b*llet hit this.

Just grazed the balloon.

Guess we can add balloons
to that long list of things

made from polypropylene, huh?

All right, I want us to spiral search

from this point out. The guy must have

left some casings here. I want it.

Entering grid six.

MAN: Copy that.

I found shell casings in the field

behind the trailer park.

CHAVEZ: Copy. Headed to you.

Come here.

That was quick.

(GRUNTS)

CHAVEZ: Max?

Max. Look at me.
Open your eyes. Come on.

- Why would someone do this?
- (HELICOPTER WHIRRING)

Everyone get back. Give her some air.

Johnson, Rubio, set the perimeter.

We find this bastard now.

Ambulance is here.

Over here!

Help's here.

Hand me a glove.

She saved us a shell casing.

Unreal.

Ms. Roby. Can you hear me?

We've got to get her to the hospital.

- Folsom.
- Hey.

- How bad is it?
- Found her unconscious.

There may be some swelling on her brain.

They've sedated her
out of an abundance of caution

to let her rest,
but she's stable for now.

FOLSOM: Okay.

Catherine, I messed up.
I was at the lab,

helping my idiot friend. I...

She made me point on this.

- I should have been there.
- Don't.

I've been where you're going.

Guilty when it's not my fault. Hell,

it's that way with my daughter
right now. All you can do

is to focus your energy

on this case.

That's all you can do for her.

Okay, so we got to assume that
the person who att*cked Max

is the sh**t, right? If she
was collecting evidence...

- Agreed.
- Whoever they are

heard the CSIs were canvassing

and they came back
to clean up after themself.

This is your case.
How do you want to proceed?

All right, guys, listen up. We run it.

All of it, all at once.

Let's go.

Allie, Chris, I want to know everything

about that casing Max recovered.

PARK: The . long r*fle
casing Max found

matches the b*llet found in Mindy.

The, uh, casing should help NIBIN

narrow down our matches faster.

It's, uh, not done processing, but I've

obviated some of the
possibilities. Take a look.

There's only r*fles left on this list.

So we were right about a sn*per.

Huh.

The f*ring pin impression
on our casing...

it's, uh... Something's off about it.

(COMPUTER TRILLS)

We have a match.

- (SCOFFS SOFTLY)
- Okay, so,

the k*ller's w*apon was a Ruger / .

Manufactured over years ago. And...

Wow. Look at that history.

Armed robberies, home invasion,
and sold at a police auction.

If the g*n was a person
it'd be behind bars.

Check out the most recent owner.

- Do you recognize this?
- (SIGHS)

So hot. Can't hear myself think.

Damn kids threw a rock through
my window and air ain't free.

Um, what are we talking about?

Okay, Theresa,

let's just knock it off with the sudoku.

People usually pay attention

when they're being
questioned about m*rder.

I've seen a r*fle before, yeah.

RAJAN: A r*fle like this one was
used to k*ll one of your neighbors.

We think the sh**t
also att*cked our boss.

- Yeah, I heard about the sh**ting.
- Our records

show that a r*fle like
this one in the picture

was registered to your address.

- Can we take a look at your r*fle?
- Sure.

If you can find it.

That r*fle was stolen some time ago.

I had a barbecue for my neighbors

out of the kindness of my heart,
and somebody janked it.

And you didn't think to report it, no?

Mm. No, ma'am, it was a piece of crap.

Was Robbie Downs invited to your party?

That wino? Of course not.

But he sure enough crashed it.

Hey.

Drink this.

Hey.

Heard anything about Max?

Not since you asked the last time.

What's this?

Well,

given the placement of Max's head wound

and this sneaker print found under Max,

we think Max was hit by someone

swinging with their left hand, so

ten percent of all people
on Earth are a suspect.

Other than that, we got
nothing. Like, we got rocks,

we got dirt, that's it.

You know what?

Uh, I-I will take that water now.

What's going on, there, bud?

(SIGHS) I kept asking myself

what in this field doesn't belong.

But that wasn't working,
so then I asked myself

what does belong.

What's the difference?

I don't know.

But I missed it

because it was covered
in dust, dirt and debris.

Look at this.

Concrete.

Smell the ammonia.

They use it as an admixture

to reduce the water in the concrete.

The-the smell won't dissipate for days.

So it's fresh.

You know, I saw construction over there.

This concrete was poured yesterday?

It only takes a few hours
to harden, about a month

to fully cure. It could be worse.

(GRUNTS) Keep digging.

If we don't find anything,
that would be worse.

Look, I got to say,

if the k*ller made their way
to Max from this angle...

plenty of weapons lying around
to take a swing at her head.

Yeah.

Hey. I think I got it!

It's a Ruger / .

- That's our r*fle.
- It's what we've been looking for.

- What's wrong?
- I don't understand how that r*fle

could have been used
to k*ll Mindy Downs.

No scope. No rail to even add one.

So, who could make that
miracle sh*t without a scope?

Who has that kind of aim?

Nobody.

That's as clean as this r*fle's getting.

Looks like it was junk before
it got tossed into cement.

You people want some good news?

Heard from the hospital.
Max's swelling is down.

Grade concussion.
Broken clavicle got set.

She's gonna be okay.

- Thank God.
- Should be up and ready for visitors tomorrow.

Folsom?

I'll, um...

I'll go when I can show her a mug sh*t.

And I might be

getting close.

I couldn't

wrap my mind around how
that -year-old r*fle

without a scope made
that incredible sh*t.

Check out the pin impression
on the casing that Max found.

Well, Chris did mention it was odd.

These are also casings from our r*fle

found at old crime scenes,
unrelated sh**t.

You notice the difference?

Our f*ring pin impression looks deeper?

It is.

The casing on the right
came from a r*fle

sh**ting straight on,
according the case report.

Its impression isn't as deep.

The casing on the left came from a r*fle

that was pointed down.

- Pretty shallow.
- So our case being the deepest

means that our r*fle was
sh*t pointing upwards?

Exactly. I didn't always
love physics as a kid,

but today I want to buy
Isaac Newton a beer.

More pressure is needed

to fight gravity when
a r*fle's pointed up,

so it makes the f*ring pin
strike harder,

leaving behind a deep pin impression.

sn*pers don't point up to sh**t.

No, they don't.

Nobody took aim at Mindy Downs.

- Her death was an accident.
- So,

if this was random...

if there's no connection
between Mindy and her k*ller...

whoever att*cked Max is our last sh*t.

No.

- No?
- There's a missing piece.

I mean literally.

There's a piece missing
where the r*fle's cracked.

Stock looks pretty dried out.

Old r*fles can snap on the kickback.

Hm.

I think I know who sh*t Mindy.

Just hold still for me.

Ooh.

You're lucky.

A splinter like this could
get badly infected.

Then again, maybe you're not so lucky.

I...

I didn't sh**t that woman.

- I...
- Cash, shush.

So my grandson sh*t my r*fle. Big whoop.

It is a big whoop, actually,
Theresa, 'cause you lied to me.

You told me the r*fle was stolen.

Cash,

your friend... he pointed us

to the kids down the street.

They said that they broke your window.

They were bullying you, right Cash?

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATION, LAUGHING)

Hey trash, you got our present?

The hell?

You're not gonna sh**t
that thing, are you?

Leave me alone!

(g*nsh*t)

My grandson didn't k*ll that woman

or hurt your boss

or whatever else. This is harassment!

(DOOR OPENS)

Nothing in the kid's room.

You don't have any proof,
not one bit of proof

that he raised a hand to your boss.

None.

The kid didn't att*ck Max.

Mindy's sh**t was right-handed,

as evidenced by the splinter

in Cash's right cheek.

But Max's attacker was left-handed.

You sudoku with your left hand, Theresa.

Are you out of your mind?

These are women's jeans

- with cement all over them.
- FOLSOM: You knew

we were searching the park
for evidence, and you knew

that Cash sh*t Mindy
after Allie and Catherine

showed up at your house.

So you got rid of the r*fle.

But then you saw my boss,
Max, out in the field.

And Cash hadn't picked up
his casings, so you had to.

I fought so hard

to get custody from Cash's mother.

All I wanted was a better
life for him. Please.

Please, don't do this to us.

Stand up for me, please.

♪ Now I'll show you my dark... ♪

Hands behind your back.

Granny?

I'm...

I'm so sorry.

(HANDCUFFS CLICKING)

♪ You can't hide from
what it lies underneath ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Nothing is real. ♪

We heard you found the sh**t.

AMY: It was an accident?

That doesn't make any sense.

She's gone, and that part
will never make sense.

But we're sure.

I am so sorry.

So, what...

you're not gonna apologize?

I'm innocent.

I lost my wife.

And you made me feel like a criminal.

CHAVEZ: You're right.

You didn't sh**t Mindy.

But you also didn't call
when you saw she was dead.

'Cause you'd be a suspect.

And you know why.
She was going to leave you.

You put Mindy
in the path of that b*llet.

And you'll have to live with
that for the rest of your life.

- (ENGINE STOPS)
- (DOOR OPENS)

TREY: So?

Who was it?

It was Shank, right?

Got to be Shank.

Why'd you want me
to ID those prints, Trey?

What, for real?

(SCOFFS SOFTLY) Man, you're such a cop.

(CHUCKLES)

I told you why. The... guys

played a prank on me,
I want to get 'em back.

You ghosted us.

Ghosted us, you left us behind
'cause you thought

you were better than us. Better than me.

No, no, no, you stayed.

I tried to help you get out.

You called me for help, man.

And I screwed up letting you

take that car, man.
I shouldn't have asked.

Well, you already know, Fols,
no favor comes free.

You know, Trey,
you should really stop trying

to track down meth distributors

and maybe you should just

stick to repo'ing cars and TVs.

You ran the prints.

All I need's a name.

Hey, I'll take it from there.

(SCOFFS SOFTLY)

That's how it's gonna be?

I'll see you around, Fols.

(ENGINE STARTS)

(SOFT KNOCKING)

Yeah, come in.

(DOOR OPENS)

Hey.

There she is.

How you feeling?

Never been better. (CHUCKLES)

- Hey.
- Hmm?

We got the sh**t.

We also got, uh, your...

attacker.

I'm sorry.

For not being there.

I got caught up

fixing things that weren't mine to fix.

If I had carried...

No, that wouldn't have helped.

Not this time.

(SCOFFS SOFTLY)

I'm sorry.

What's in the bag?

Got you a Double-Double.

I know you were looking forward to that

cafeteria chicken piccata, but...

Come on, Double-Double.