Previously, on Signed, Sealed, Delivered...
She's from the U.S.P.S. in Washington, D.C.
I imagine we have differing notions
on what constitutes "fun."
I have no doubt that we do.
Wait till I tell you about Oliver.
It was very ungentlemanly of me
to remain here where I could
overhear your conversation.
I won't say a word.
I really can't stall them anymore.
Sorry!
I got it!
If something happens...
Nothing's gonna happen.
Promise.
You have to mail this.
Do it for Michael and our little girl.
I need your help here!
Okay. Deep breaths.
Move it! Let's go. Let's go!
Okay! Hang in there, Melissa. Hang in there! Hang in there!
- We're not getting a pulse. - Pressure's dropping.
- More suction. - She's desatting, 70%.
- Come on, Melissa! - We're losing her!
- 65%! - More suction!
Morning.
Would you like to see any magazines today?
You know, all my John Grisham's have been checked out,
but hold on, let me see.
♪ Send me love every day ♪
♪ and send me on my way ♪
♪ deliver me just deliver me ♪
- Synced and corrected by Retrojex - - www.addic7ed.com -
So, when we were talking about Oliver the other day,
he was sitting right behind us?
Mm. But it wasn't his fault.
He wanted to leave,
he just didn't want to stand up and embarrass you.
What did I say?
- All nice things. You know... - Oh...
How he's a nice guy, he goes to church,
he's generous, considerate...
- He needs a sense of humor. - No.
No... no!
I can't go back to the dead letter office now.
Take me back to Washington with you, please?
No! This place is good for you.
Besides, I can't go back either.
Not until I fulfill my special projects quota.
Oh.
Be cool. He's coming over.
- But don't let him know I told you. - What do I do?
Nothing, he would die if he knew
that you knew that he knew that...
Good morning, Ms. McInerney, Ms. Starkwell,
I was hoping to find you here. Again.
Gosh, Oliver. It's so good to see you.
We were just sitting here
talking about... nothing.
Um, trying to find a topic, and...
Oh, forget about it.
What's going on?
Oh, uh, well, we received a rather unusual package this morning.
I'd like to consult with you and... and you, perhaps,
Ms. Starkwell, if you're interested.
Yes, I'm always interested,
but I have a problem I have to fix
in "Parcels" at 9:00.
Apparently, even if it fits, it ain't shipping.
Mm. At least not to Kazakhstan.
But, can you post it?
Aw, I love her.
It must be nice having a friend
visiting from your old stomping grounds.
Yeah. Although I really didn't stomp that much.
I didn't stay there that long.
Oh, I see. So should we expect you to...
Move on at some point?
- "On"? - Are you unhappy at the D.L.O.?
With... us?
- "Us"? - The team. Uh...
Norman, Rita...
Oh! No. No. Not unhappy.
In fact, I'm actually starting to do a little stomping here.
Ah. I'm sure Norman and Rita will be very happy to hear that.
They admire you and your remarkable...
My remarkable...?
Uh... ability to, uh...
Embrace...
A challenge such as this.
Ah.
It arrived, addressed directly to the dead letter office.
- Oh, a Bible? - Mm-hmm.
And, uh...
This was included.
The cover letter reads, uh,
"Dear Post Office...
"after many years of treatment,
"a patient of ours at Long Oaks Lodge for Mental Health
"has recovered enough to leave our facility.
"At the time he left, he confessed to us that the Bible
he had carried so long was, in fact,
stolen by him
approximately 10 years ago."
"Inside that Bible was an unmailed letter,
which our patient decorated and used as a bookmark."
"We are sending you both
"in hopes that you might forward them to their rightful owners."
"Thank you."
"Nancy Gray, Director of Psychiatric Services,
Long Oaks Lodge for Mental Health."
Uh...
It's Michael W-H-E... something,
2234... something, D-e-n-v...
Well, it must be Denver.
Mm-hmm. Uh...
Most of it's not legible.
Return address says
"St. Augusto Hospital Intensive Care Unit."
37-cent 2004 commemorative.
It, uh, lacks postmark, however.
Oh. The stamp suggests intention to mail.
And we must honor that intention.
Very good, Ms. McInerney.
Alright.
Here we are.
Ahem.
Shaky handwriting.
Uh, "May 16, 2004.
"Dear Michael...
"I can explain everything.
"It's not what you think.
"I don't blame you for walking out,
"but I can't let them operate on me
"unless I know, if I die...
at least you have the truth."
"My head hurts
and I can't remember much about yesterday..."
Thank you, Sir. I appreciate your confidence.
Mike, isn't that your wife?
Uh...
- Hey. - Hey!
What... what are you doing here?
The partners took me to lunch.
They're gonna support me in the campaign.
Did... did I mention? He's really gonna run.
I always knew you'd run the world someday.
Some things never change, I guess.
I just, uh...
Hey. Hey-hey-hey-hey-hey...
I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong.
Oh, I'm sorry,
it's just I see my wife and her old boyfriend
together at a hotel.
I don't know what to make of it.
Have you ever noticed,
when things are good, he's your best friend,
but as soon as we're having problems,
he's my "ex-boyfriend"?
Barry and I were having lunch.
That's all that happened. Lunch.
I didn't see you in the restaurant.
Michael,
please, just trust me on this.
I'll tell you all about it
when Abby and I get back from the trip.
Right.
Why don't you come?
No.
Take some mother/daughter time.
We need some husband/wife time.
I gotta go.
"I would have never let you walk away
if I had known what was coming."
She said it all happened so fast.
One second, they were all laughing,
and the next thing they knew, they hit the rocks,
and everyone was in the water...
Mr. Wheeler?
Yes?
We just got the lab work back on your blood.
I'm afraid there's an issue.
Michael...
How's Abby?
They think she's gonna lose a kidney.
Oh, no.
No...
She needed blood.
So...
I gave them mine.
But my blood didn't match.
Michael, wait. Listen to me.
What a fool I am.
I mean, Abby was born, what...?
Nine months and two days after we got married.
Maybe, if you and Barry hadn't been messing around on Friday,
I would've been up there with you guys,
and our little girl
wouldn't be fighting for her life right now!
Listen to me, Mi... Michael.
Correction...
your little girl.
Michael!
Michael...
Michael!
Candy striper.
Can I get you a magazine or anything?
"It's true, Michael.
You're not the father of Abby."
"It's a terrible secret I've kept all this time
"because I love you
"and I only wanted the best for both of you.
"The truth is...
Barry isn't the father, either."
"There hasn't been anything between me and Barry since..."
"college,
"and we were at the Clairemont on Friday
"because we were planning
"a surprise party for your birthday next week.
If you don't believe me, ask the caterer."
Alright.
Well, all we have to do is call the Clairemont Hotel,
ask them to check their records for a birthday party
that was canceled
for a Michael W-H- something in May of 2004.
Who's the father?
You amaze me.
An hour ago, you didn't know these people existed.
Now you can't continue
until you determine the parentage of their child.
I can't explain it, Oliver.
I just... have got an instinct.
An instinct.
You once said, "we don't find the letters,
they find us."
I do.
Well, this morning,
I woke up with a distinct feeling
that today would pose a unique challenge.
Was that a feeling
or a fortune cookie, Ms. McInerney?
Oh. Just... keep reading.
Oliver, please?
Besides...
Everybody knows that hotels
destroy their records after 10 years.
Now you're just making things up.
On the other hand,
I do have a feeling about this, too.
What's your instinct?
Not an instinct.
More of a sign, really.
This page...
The envelope was bookmarking...
"And you will know the truth,
and the truth will make you free."
10 years is a long time
to be a prisoner to a lie, Ms. McInerney.
"You are not Abby's father,
neither is Barry."
"Do you remember
"the night before we got married?"
I can't wait. Marry me now.
Alright, guys. Break it up.
She's yours tomorrow, Michael, but she's ours tonight!
Have fun.
- Bye. - Bye.
"It started as just one last girls' night out."
This one's for when
Michael wins his first election.
Oh!
Uh, wait a minute.
Maybe it'll be me that goes into politics!
We thought of that!
And then...
"Hello, Michael!"
It's the thought that counts.
Absolutely. Cheers.
I'll be right back.
Okay.
It's downstairs, in the back.
"I don't remember everything, Michael,
but I know he said he was gonna kill me."
"Except he didn't.
"But that night...
I wanted to die just the same."
Ms. McInerney, you were right.
As much as I wish that weren't true.
This is the saddest letter I've ever read.
That's what Rebecca said when she read it.
She wants a report on our progress by tomorrow.
Do we have enough to figure it out?
Not yet.
I can't find
any police reports from an O'Hannigan's bar
from that year.
I don't think you will.
It was never reported.
"I decided that I was never going... "
"...going to tell a soul
what happened, so..."
"I made it through the wedding
with lots of makeup and champagne."
"A few days later,
"I saw his face in the Denver City Press.
"He used a gun before,
"to assault a kindergarten teacher
"three days before me.
"They caught him for that,
and he went to prison for life."
"In fact, it was the last case
"that Tommy Boylen prosecuted
"before he was appointed to the bench, remember?
"But even though he's been in jail all this time,
"I can't stop thinking about him...
And there's always Abby to remind me."
Oh, Dear.
"I thought a thousand times about not going through with it,
but... but I couldn't..."
"Because, in the end,
"it didn't matter who her father was.
"All that mattered
was who her father was going to be."
I'm sorry.
"It's true, Michael,
"you're not Abby's father,
"but you are, and you will always be,
"her daddy.
"Please forgive me.
"And if you can't, I understand.
But I have always loved you..."
"And I've been blessed to be your wife."
"Love, Melissa."
Michael wanted to be in politics.
Melissa calls the prosecutor "Tommy,"
as if they were somehow friendly with the D.A.'s office.
I believe that we are dealing with an officer of the court.
I can run a list of lawyers
from the Colorado Bar Association
whose names start with "W-H-E" and then...
Oh. Wheaton, Wheems, Wheeler, Whelcher.
Well, actually, there's two Whelchers
Rita, you really are amazing.
You know that?
Oliver?
Yes, Norman?
Do you think I could, um, have one of your yoo-hoos?
Of course.
I think we could all use one.
Okay, Michael Wheeler, age 45,
deputy district attorney, Denver, since 2006.
He is the father of one,
and was widowed in 2004.
This is his address.
Oliver...
I'm torn about this.
This is an incredibly difficult letter
to deliver.
Yes. It is.
I wonder what a difference
sending this will make after all this time.
God only knows, Rita.
But that's enough for me.
Rita? How many stores in Pueblo begin with the letter "Z"?
Oh, well, there's Zip's Skateboards,
which is 1456 South Exposition.
Oh, wait! No. It's not. It's, um...
Uh, 5614.
I am so sorry. I can't concentrate.
Neither can I.
Is everybody thinking what I'm thinking?
About Melissa...
And Abby...
And Michael?
To be honest, Ms. McInerney,
I'm trying not to think about it.
I am...
going to go get some coffee.
You know, I could go for a large americano with...
I don't think she's going to get coffee.
Yes. I'm tough on crime,
and I have really good reason to be.
Her name is...
"it's my daughter, her name is... "
it's my daughter.
Her name is Abby.
And I ask you,
what are the names of the ones that you love?
The people that you expect our city to serve and protect?
That's good, but...
Don't look so severe, Dad.
You have to smile when you say that.
You gonna be my doctor or my campaign manager?
May I help you?
Yes! Hello.
I am from the United States postal service.
I am conducting a routine evaluation of...
Mail.
How it's going here?
Well, it still comes in every day.
Excuse me a moment.
Mm-hmm.
Now, I thought you were gonna shave.
Beards make voters think
candidates have something to hide.
I'll take that into consideration.
Spoken like a politician.
Thanks for doing this.
It was nice to be asked.
So... what are you up to?
Not much.
Uh, went in for some tests with Dr. Ackerman
and Simon and I have just been...
Tests?
How are you feeling?
Fine.
Simon and I are studying for medcats.
"Simon"?
Boyfriend?
You met him and you liked him.
Mm-hmm.
Wow.
Look at this letter.
It's 10 years old.
We get lots of old cases.
No, I mean the post office says it's been lost that long.
What? Who's it from?
Um...
Nobody.
Okay.
Well, see ya, Dad.
Bye, Sweetheart. I love you.
- I love you. - Okay.
Now, how can I help you?
Well, as I was saying...
- Sandra? - Yeah?
I'm taking an early lunch.
Okay.
I'm sorry.
Wrong zip code.
Oh, God!
Oh, I'm sorry, Mel.
I will kill him!
I will kill him.
Ms. McInerney.
That certainly was a lot of coffee.
Oliver, I think Michael Wheeler is out for revenge.
He's gonna kill that man?
He said he would.
How do you know this?
It's a long story.
I'll skip the part where I followed him into a cemetery.
- Oh, boy. - Anybody who doesn't...
want to know what I'm about to do
should leave now.
Well, I don't want to know,
and I'm not leaving, and you're gonna tell me anyway.
Let's just say
I am taking my computer skills to a whole new level.
He's searching the kindergarten teacher's story,
just the way I did.
How do you know this?
I broke into the City Hall mainframe.
Oh, wow.
Now you see why Washington hated to lose me.
What's he doing?
Searching the D.A.'s files.
He probably wants to find out as much about Brackner
before he kills him.
Now, what on earth would make you think
Mr. Wheeler would kill a man who's already in jail?
I watched him read the letter.
I saw him stand over Melissa's grave
and swear that he would kill Brackner.
Probably with the Sig Sauer
that he has registered as a concealed weapon.
But I thought Brackner was
supposed to be in jail for life.
So did Michael.
Wait! It looks like he's onto something.
I don't understand.
Brackner may be released?
It's true. Brackner's on his last appeal,
but this time, defense says
they've got enough for a reversal,
based on new forensics
suggesting a compromise in the chain of evidence.
There's an old Illinois precedent from 1898
on material evidence.
I'll email it to you.
Great. Thanks.
Uh...
You know, I thought you'd be, uh,
too busy campaigning
to pay attention to this little stuff.
Putting trash like this away
is worth whatever it takes.
Hey, you mind if I drop by and watch?
You're the boss.
But that's just not fair!
I'm betting that's where Michael's gonna do it...
in court, at the appeal.
Because if Brackner gets released,
he'll disappear.
I don't like the idea of that guy walking around.
But, hey! What if he couldn't walk?
You know, I have a cousin...
Norman, enough regulations have been broken already.
We don't know any more than Mr. Wheeler.
Probably far less.
Besides, what if... what if we're wrong?
What if we are right?
His daughter has lost enough already.
She has. I just...
Wait a minute.
Ms. Mclnerney,
what was the name of her doctor again?
Ackerman!
We've got the name.
I'll just look up the records.
Whoa... okay.
This is a game-changer.
I can't believe you found it.
You're right. Someone has to stop him.
Yeah, but we can't prove it. At least not in time.
Oliver, you always say
that we have to be responsible
for what little truth that we have.
We have it now, and Michael doesn't.
We have a moral obligation to stop him.
We'll do everything in our power,
but our powers are somewhat limited.
How limited?
Well, we have to stay
within some pretty strict guidelines around here.
And, you know, every once in a while,
when no ones's looking,
we push the envelope if it's important.
Well, I think this is one of those times
and I'm certainly not looking.
There you go. You heard it direct from the Head of Special Projects
in Washington, D.C.
It is a tempting proposition,
but we are talking about saving a life here.
Two, actually.
We're gonna need a lot more than someone looking the other way.
We're gonna need full authority to pull this off.
At least temporarily.
Why should it be temporary?
Ms. McInerney...
Take a letter.
"Memo for General Distribution
"from the United States post office, Washington D.C.
"Effective immediately,
"the Division of Special Projects
"announces the reorganization
of the Denver branch of the D.L.O. into..."
Uh... into a...
A Special Task Force?
Ah! That's good.
Good, good, good, good.
"...into a Special Task Force,
"dedicated to the delivery of sensitive letters,
"packages, and related material
deemed "undeliverable" and needing special handling."
Rebecca, that's great,
but I can't help but think
that we might need a little more latitude.
An expense account, flexible hours... travel.
Okay. Got it. Got it.
"Said Task Force shall be given wide powers of discretion,
"fiscal independence,
"and...
shall report directly and solely to this division."
Love it!
I'm sorry.
What just happened?
I just found my special project.
And you guys just got promoted.
Norman is going to love this.
So...
We're a secret branch of the post office now?
Not secret.
Just a very, very Special Task Force.
But, I mean... Wow, wow! Wow!
This is so exciting!
We are like, uh, like secret agents or superheroes.
We're gonna need a name, like, uh,
like a real name, like "the A-Team".
Or the "Impossible Missions Force,"
or, uh, "Seal Team Six"...
"The Incredibles"?
A moniker, some sort of unique designation.
Wait! I've got it!
"The Postables."
Huh.
The Postables.
Right? The Postables! Oh, my gosh.
We could even have jackets!
- Or patches. - "Postable" patches!
I think you should draw the line at capes.
Will do.
Well, I'm proud to be a Postable.
Of course. Yeah.
She's from, uh,
Three Hills, Wyoming, if you can believe that.
It's a very small town.
Yeah. Her name's Eartha Lewis.
I don't have the spelling...
if he had a gun,
he wouldn't take it through security.
I scanned his bank records.
He closed all of his accounts
and put a power of attorney into his daughter's name
in case anything happens.
Mm. He did have an awfully big breakfast.
I'm telling you,
he's not expecting to get out of here.
At least, not as a free man.
Oh, Mr. Wheeler.
Forgot your briefcase.
Thanks, Anthony.
And he just got his briefcase
through security without inspection.
Did I miss anything?
All rise.
In the matter of the State of Colorado vs. Carl Brackner,
I am prepared to deliver my decision
after I have conferred with counsel.
Please approach the bench.
Would you mind putting your briefcase on the floor,
under here?
It's just that I'm... I'm allergic to, um, leather.
No, I'm sorry. I need it with me right now.
Oh. Sure.
Achoo.
Defense filed a motion
to deny the 1898 ruling on material evidence.
She says I can't cite a case that old
unless I can prove relevance.
You got any ideas?
Well, you could...
she's questioning relevance
because it's a hundred years old?
That's exactly why it's relevant!
Judges wrote decisions a hundred years ago
so we could hear their voices today.
If we don't listen to their past,
then who will listen
to this judge's decision a hundred years from now?
Yeah! Not to mention
the State of Illinois vs. Preston
cited the same case in 1989 and prevailed,
upholding the previous verdict
of 1977.
Your honor?
May I approach?
Who are you people?
Mr. Wheeler.
We know what's in that letter in your pocket.
We know what's in your briefcase.
And I believe we know what's on your mind.
Believe me, I wouldn't blame you
if you stuffed Carl Brackner into a blender and hit "frappe."
But we have information
about your daughter
that will convince you
of the terrible mistake you're about to make.
You must believe me.
There is only one course of action
you can take today.
You must trade us your briefcase and the...
Sig Sauer P229.
That's concealed inside.
Read the information, decide for yourself.
You must trust us.
This is a matter of life and death.
Please, Mr. Wheeler.
Well done, Sir. Thank you.
Sir, if we don't act now,
you won't be able to save your daughter.
Mr. Morgan,
I have been convinced that the relevance of the ruling
on material evidence from 1898
and I am going to allow it.
Motion denied.
I am now prepared to deliver my ruling on your appeal.
And after reading the transcripts from your trial,
I am inclined to agree
with the jury's original verdict of "guilty."
Visitor for Brackner.
My name is Michael Wheeler.
My wife, um...
My wife...
She died in a river-rafting accident
10 years ago.
I found a letter that she wrote, and in it she says that you...
That you were the, uh...
I don't remember.
People's relatives, they show up every now and then,
asking questions.
Mostly "why?"
I didn't come here to ask why.
You've seen the monster.
So go ahead
and tell me to burn in hell, or you forgive me,
or you do whatever you've got to do to get closure,
'cause I got lunch coming up, and it's pizza day.
You have a daughter.
Her name's Abby.
When she was 12, she was in the same accident,
and now she...
She needs a kidney transplant.
You can't make me do that.
Of course not...
You can't even prove that's my kid!
The test can.
A really simple test.
Yeah, well, it don't matter.
She's 22 now.
She's beautiful, she's smart and funny.
She has blue eyes,
and she's tall...
like you.
Nobody makes me do nothing I don't wanna do.
That's true.
That is true.
You have a chance here...
to do something good, something that matters.
How many other guys in here get that?
It's a simple test.
They just scrape cells from the inside of your cheek.
She looks like my mother.
Is that good?
Dad! You shaved.
Yeah. It was time.
- Hey, honey. - I got your message.
But why here?
Uh...
Well, we need to talk.
And, uh...
I wanted us all to be together.
Okay.
Oliver, what does it take
to get you to let your hair down
and let yourself have a little fun?
I will consider having fun, Ms. McInerney,
once my entire team is assembled
and accounted for.
That includes Norman.
He's not here?
- They're about to start. - Mm.
Oh, my!
Uh, barkeep.
May I have an Arnold Palmer?
Shaken... Not stirred.
Norman, we were growing concerned.
Ahh. Thank you.
I see you dressed for the occasion.
Ah, yes.
Uh, I often dress
for occasions.
Rita? May I buy you an Arnold Palmer?
Why, y-yes.
Please. With an umbrella, please.
I owe you an apology.
I can't imagine what for.
Well, do you remember the morning
that you brought the letter to me and Shane?
- I do. - Okay, well, ahem,
before you walked in, I let it slip that...
no, I flat-out told her
that you'd overheard
our conversation about you the other week,
but I made her promise not to tell you that she knew...
I knew.
I know. Apology accepted.
Thank you.
"And the truth shall set you free."
Oh, yeah?
In the three happy weeks
that I have spent at the Denver branch
of the U.S. post office,
I have learned
not only what it means to be a better postal worker...
But I have learned from these honorees
what it means to be a proud postal worker.
It may be true that electronic thought has taken over our world...
I mean, we tweet and text faster than we can think.
"O.M.G."
But a year ago, or perhaps a hundred years ago,
someone wrote a letter with real words
and more than two seconds of thought put behind them,
and we are living their future.
There are thousands of letters,
each one a voice from the past, just waiting to be heard.
It'll take the kind of sacrifice
and devotion given by you,
the honorees who have each received
not only the distinguished service award
from this branch,
but I am happy to announce
that the postmaster general of the United States...
has instructed me to confer upon you
the highest honor for any U.S. postal worker...
"The Dark of Night award."
Now, this is fun.