Previously on Instinct...
It seems Sam is leaving because she is... pregnant,
and placing her baby... for adoption.
She said, "I would
like to meet to talk about the possibility of adoption."
But I want you to know that Jules has to take a little time off.
How long for?
Are we talking days, weeks?
Depends on the assignment's difficulty assessment.
He was the bartender.
Served our victim the night she was killed.
You found a witness?
Jay!
Hey, it's Jay. Leave a message.
"It's on."
He changed his signature.
He's starting to enjoy it.
He's toying with us.
Stella?!
Stella!
You're making me mad, Stella.
Oh, it's too hot for this.
Come on, Stella. I have an apartment
to show in Williamsburg.
Oh, my God.
"Within the infant rind of this small flower,
"poison hath residence
and medicine power."
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Romeo and Juliet.
You all sailed through your eighth-grade English classes.
Woo-hoo.
But what do these words actually signify?
Hmm? Not so many hands going up now.
Duality.
This flower can both kill and cure.
In life, we have good and evil, love and hate, passing...
and failing.
Things that seem like polar opposites,
but are, in fact, two sides of the same coin.
Duality.
Take... for instance, uh,
this purely hypothetical example.
Say there was a killer
whose modus operandi involved clubbing his victims to death,
but then took great care to cover their bodies
with a makeshift blanket or a pillow.
This strange blend of, uh,
tenderness and cruelty, this duality...
- what would that tell us? - What if this...
same killer brings
a newly-purchased pillow and blanket to his next killing,
suggesting something more alarming?
Students,
please meet Detective Ryan Stock,
NYPD by way of Nebraska,
who is apparently auditing
our class today.
More alarming how?
What if he no longer feels any remorse?
That he's somehow...
energized by the killing?
Well, that would suggest an escalation,
and we would be witnessing the birth of a serial killer.
The birth of a serial killer. It's catchy.
Well, kids, you can't top "catchy."
Class dismissed. I'll see you on Thursday. Thank you.
So you're like this all the time, huh?
Like what?
Never mind.
You do know it's 100 degrees, right?
And you're wearing 800 layers.
How are you not sweating like the rest of us?
Well, there's your first mistake, Ryan.
I'm not like the rest of you.
What brings you to our hollowed halls?
Jay Mosby.
Dead bartender and... my only
potential witness to the psycho killer
that I've tracked to New York from Nebraska.
"Psycho" is short for "psychotic,"
suffering from psychosis. "Psychopath"
means someone who knows what they're doing and why,
and so, it's rational. Just...
So you are always like this. Check it out.
I found Jay's body.
- What? - Central Park.
Belvedere Castle. These, um...
The gray granite on the stones helped me find it.
A castle is an interesting location
- for the Sleeping Beauty killer... - Mm-hmm.
...to dispose of his latest victim.
You think he knows we call him that?
Not necessarily. The castle's been closed for a long time
for renovations. It could just be
- a good place to dump Jay's body. - But if this killer
is escalating, he may have already planned his next kill.
We need to find this guy... today.
I get you, but cases like this often need both,
"Go, go, go!" and patience.
"'Go, go, go!' and patience"?
Mm-hmm. Duality.
I understand why violent crimes increase
by ten percent during a heat wave.
There's a transformer out in Midtown,
and Con Ed has Broadway down to one lane. One!
Isn't that the point of having a motorcycle in the city?
You weave in and out, so you get to places on time
and don't have to be Mr. Crankypants?
Uh, it's Doctor Crankypants to you.
And I'm a safe rider, thank you very much.
Well, I have a twisted crime scene
that will make you feel better.
Really? How twisted?
Whoa.
Local realtor and his dog found the body this morning.
He's being interviewed now.
Vic's been dead maybe a few days, but who knows,
since bodies decompose faster in the heat.
Oh! Are you sure you want to try to get a print off this floater?
You might have better luck with the tattoo.
Yeah, that's gonna take too long.
Any luck with other witnesses or CCTV?
No, there was a brownout last night. We lost most
of the neighborhood cameras around midnight.
- Ooh! - Mm.
Good luck with the scanner. I-I need to go barf.
How are you not sweating?!
Genetics.
Right.
Scaphism.
Sca... what?
That's how this victim was killed.
So what's "scaphism"?
An ancient form of torturous murder,
also as known as "The Boats."
It comes from the Greek word "skáphe," meaning "scooped out."
It originated during the Achaemenid Empire
around 404 BC.
And somehow you're managing to make this boring.
The victim is stripped, then bolted between two boats
with only their limbs and head exposed.
Then, for a number of days or weeks, they're force-fed
milk and honey until
they contract severe diarrhea, which, in turn, attracts insects
and bugs who then eat and breed
within the victim's exposed flesh.
You're making this up.
No. Though, sometimes,
the insects and bugs just bite them and sting them.
Brutal.
Death by scaphism is more than brutal.
It's protracted and humiliating.
And unfortunately, we can't solve this crime if we can't
get an ID. Here, I'll do it.
Who are you?
And what did you do to make someone hate you this much?
Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com
And now, we wait
for the vic's finger pad to warm up and puff up.
And then, hopefully, we can get a print...
...and you can get an ID.
What's the COD?
Homicide caused by septic shock.
The victim's stomach was chock-full
of milk and honey, as well as...
Maggots. Lots of maggots.
Not even gonna ask how you know that.
Uh, the good news is
that delirium probably set in within a few days.
- How long before...? - He was probably tortured for 12 days,
then died sometime between
day 13 and 17?
And also, there's this.
Oh, he was hit with a blunt object.
- Hard enough to knock him out? - Possibly, yeah.
And...
all I need now...
is to place... the vic's finger pad
onto one of your fingers
to get a proper print.
Who wants to volunteer?
Mm.
So now that we have your fingerprint,
we'll be able to find out who you are.
♪ Getting divorced and want more than your share? ♪
♪ Call the lawyer who will get it ♪
- ♪ Thomas O'Hare ♪ - That's him!
♪ No prenup? No problem. ♪
So our vic is the divorce lawyer guy?
Yup. Thomas "Tom" O'Hare.
I think someone killed him because they hated that jingle.
Hell, it's made me want to kill a few times.
Well, I can't imagine what he did to deserve all that.
CSU is at his house right now.
They found blood on the stairs. Definitely not the kill site,
but it could be where he was taken.
Have the lab
test the strain of pollen in the honey found on the boats.
See if they can source it.
My folks keep bees.
It may be a long shot, but, uh, I could ask the lab.
That's a great idea, Ryan.
Good. It's a good idea.
Thanks, Ryan.
This is so messed up.
Now who the hell would do this kind of thing?
Actually, an ordinary person can become a torturer
with surprising ease.
The hard part is when it's time to be a human again.
A divorce lawyer like this guy is going to have
a lot of people who hate him.
Personal life?
Uh, married 15 years, separated 14 months.
Not divorced yet.
The brutality of a crime like this.
I mean, it goes far beyond a normal spurned-spouse scenario.
But I know we got to start somewhere.
You pulled my husband out of the East River?
Do you have photos?
None that will help.
Well, I appreciate your time,
but whoever you fished out wasn't Tom.
What makes you so sure?
Well, for starters, he's a very strong swimmer.
And he's currently in Sedona on a month-long retreat.
Oh, Plutarch's Parallel Lives.
Yes, I wrote my dissertation on Plutarch.
How is that relevant?
It's not. Dr. O'Hare,
we don't think your husband made it to Sedona.
We ran his fingerprint.
Every lawyer in New York is fing...
Fingerprinted, yes, I know. Well...
run it again. There must be some mistake.
Did your husband have an unusual tattoo on his arm?
Looks like... something from a law review citation?
He did. How...?
How did this happen?
When was the last time you saw him?
We went to dinner and The Met the night before he left.
What did you see?
Tosca, his favorite.
Oh, my God. Poor, sweet Tom.
I thought you two were... separated.
We are, yes.
Our marriage, like a lot of others, is complicated.
But if he died, you stood to inherit his millions.
I would, yes.
So you should know that Tom asked me to move back home.
I said okay if he cut back his hours at work.
Did he agree to that?
Tom's a workaholic,
which is why he went on that retreat...
to examine his life.
Given your husband's profession,
I imagine he had a few enemies.
Hundreds.
He had a 20-year practice. He was a formidable enemy.
But if he was on your side,
there's nothing he wouldn't do for you.
Did any of those enemies
ever make a specific threat against him?
Constantly.
I think he enjoyed it.
Although there was one recently that was so bad
he had to take out a restraining order.
Do you have a name?
Next time, how about we... and by "we," I mean you...
not browse the books.
We were there to investigate a murder,
- not geek out about Plato. - Plutarch.
He could be Plut-o for all I care.
Except Plato wasn't one of the two historical writers
to document scaphism, and Pluto is a cartoon dog.
- So don't knock book browsing. - I wasn't.
And Tosca is full of depictions of torture,
murder and suicide, so don't knock opera, either.
I wasn't.
Margot's dissertation was on Plutarch,
so the whole "poor sweet Tom" thing was an act?
On the one hand, if she divorced O'Hare,
she'd be going up against one of the most
ruthless divorce lawyers in New York City.
She stood to lose a lot of money, hers and his.
On the other hand, this wasn't just a murder,
it was torture. Whoever did this to O'Hare
wanted to be with him to see him suffer.
We should do some digging,
find out where she's been the past few weeks,
look at her financials.
If she knocked him out, she'd have to put one canoe
on top of another with his body in between.
I'm not sure she's capable of that.
Love and hate can make people do crazy things.
As my mom always said, "You want to get to know someone,
divorce them."
You put a lot of thought
into your threats against O'Hare, Sara.
Ever try to act on any of them?
Words were the only ammunition
I had against somebody like him.
You certainly caught his attention.
I know.
A restraining order. Can you believe it?
The big bad wolf afraid of little old me?
You don't seem too broken up about his death.
The fact that I am not doing cartwheels
demonstrates progress.
My life coach helped me realize that
I was letting Tom live rent-free, up here.
It's not healthy.
So it's a slow-moving eviction?
I met my husband on a dating app.
He was Mr. Perfect.
Then, once we get married,
I notice money being drained from my bank account.
He did it to four other women.
Mr. Perfect was a con man.
So why threaten O'Hare?
Why? O'Hare represented him.
He knew my ex was a lying lowlife,
and yet I lost my town house
and the business it took me seven years to build.
For O'Hare, it wasn't a win
unless I walked away with nothing.
Light and love. Light and love.
Thank you for your time, Sara.
Mm-hmm. We have to go.
I'm not done talking to her.
Oh, yes, you are.
Someone just confessed to O'Hare's murder.
His name is Lon Vicars. Claims he killed O'Hare.
O'Hare represented his ex-wife in their divorce.
Did he sign a confession?
Yeah, I couldn't get a coherent sentence
out of the guy... he's hysterical.
I'm hoping that you can calm him down.
Am I supposed to water him?
So, you told Sergeant Harris
that you murdered Thomas O'Hare?
The milk, the h-honey, the...
oh, those smells.
His screams, they won't go away.
Where did you do it?
I... I c...
I can't live with it anymore.
It went too far. It was wrong.
What did you take, Lon?
Get an ambulance over here.
Excessive thirst.
Pink skin. And the smell of bitter almonds.
This man ingested cyanide.
Lon Vicars had a successful jewelry store
until O'Hare made it public during the divorce proceedings
that Vicars had beaten his wife.
Was it true?
Yes. But from Vicars' perspective,
he felt his life had been ruined
because O'Hare had tarnished his reputation.
Vicars blamed O'Hare for losing everything.
Except access to potassium cyanide,
which jewelers use to clean gold.
Well, I get the torture. Why the suicide?
Mm, torturers can often be overcome
by a profound sense of shame.
Getting revenge can often make people feel worse than better.
It's probably why he felt he had to confess before he died.
So that's that.
The dream team gets a gimme. Congrats.
What?
- This was too easy. - No.
Sometimes cases solve themselves.
But why would Vicars say it had gone too far
if he was in control?
Vicars was big, he had motive, a violent past.
And I think you're overanalyzing because you were hoping
to wade through ancient torture rituals.
Since when were you qualified to analyze my overanalyzing?
Go home. Have your meeting with Sam. I'll handle the paperwork.
Thank you, Auntie Lizzie.
Hey. You okay?
When was the last time you slept?
Sleep is for... closers.
This is, uh, the blanket
the Sleeping Beauty killer used to cover Jay Moseby's body.
I-I tracked the sale down to a vintage website.
That's a big lead.
Mm-hmm. The website only took credit cards.
And guess whose he used?
Nancy Lee... his first New York victim.
- Where was the blanket delivered? - Some vacant apartment.
CCTV footage of the area came up with nothing.
That's the bad news.
The worse news? A week ago someone...
purchased 12 more of them.
So he's planning a lot more kills.
Yeah. And all my leads go nowhere now,
and I just can't...
I just can't think straight.
Yeah, I'm right there with you.
I thought you closed your case.
Yeah, so did I.
Everything says it's solved except Dylan.
I got to admit, something doesn't feel right.
You know, I got a pillow in my office
I was planning to scream into.
Care to join me?
I've got a better idea.
Ooh!
See? Isn't this better than brooding over blankets?
Well, no better way to unwind than getting kicked in the face.
Aw, come on, you're loving this.
And you're actually not terrible at it.
I bet you say that to all the cops.
They won't get in here with me.
Sergeant Harris was
out of work for a week.
Figures.
How about Dylan, huh?
Can he hold his own?
Careful. Your guy crush is showing.
Oh!
Water break?
Whatever you need.
How are you adjusting to New York?
It's okay.
It's $14 a beer...
that doesn't come with 11 more.
Ah. You miss home.
Oh, not really.
Doesn't feel like home anymore.
You know, the...
factory closing was a major blow,
but that murder was the final nail in the coffin.
Yeah, that's gotta suck.
I'm sorry.
Yeah, I loved that place.
I thought I'd grow old and die there.
I never wanted to live anywhere else.
I was born here and never left.
Don't even have a passport.
Wow. Planting roots.
Being part of a community.
So much more fulfilling than taking selfies
all over the world.
Round two?
Let's do it.
Okay.
Oof! Oh, you got a good left.
I'm a righty. That's why I work twice as hard on my left.
- You okay? - Great.
Rain check?
Yeah.
Well, now who's gonna punch me in the face?
He was a med student,
studying abroad from Germany.
We used protection, so I guess I'm one
of the lucky two percenters it didn't work for.
Maybe I should play the lottery.
But he was really smart,
and tall,
so hopefully the baby will inherit that.
I told him about it, and lo and behold,
he had to go back to Stuttgart.
Sorry. Pregnancy brain. What was your question?
Do you like lemon in your ice tea?
Oh, right. Love it.
But it makes me hurl ever since I got pregnant.
TMI?
- No. - Oh.
The articles I read said we should stick to light subjects.
I think we probably read the same ones.
So how about this heat wave, huh?
I know I work in a bar... your bar...
but...
I hate small talk.
Can we just be real?
Andy told me I'd like you.
Are you...
still thinking of moving back to Sacramento?
I made that decision in a moment of panic.
And then I got real.
I can't be a single mom.
This baby deserves a good, happy life,
and that is something I know I won't be able to give.
Well, we would give this baby all the love and care
and attention we have.
Thank you.
That means a lot.
Is there anything you want to know about us?
Test our knowledge of... Triple Paste,
rice formula, car seats?
Actually, since you mentioned car seats,
I couldn't help but notice that helmet.
Oh, yeah. That's mine. I-I ride a motorcycle.
But not every day.
My uncle died in a motorcycle accident.
Oh, I'm a very safe rider. I've never had an accident.
I'd be happy to share my driver record with you.
So you prefer I lie to her?
Did you hear what she was saying?
I've been riding a motorcycle longer than she has been alive.
I know the risks and I avoid them.
Dylan, all Sam sees when she looks at that motorcycle helmet
is her dead uncle, who didn't drive
- as safe as you. - I know there are
certain sacrifices that have to be made
when we bring a child into our home.
But you know what that bike means to me.
Where do we draw the line, Andy?
Do we let someone else dictate our entire lives?
Dylan, this is not a lecture hall, okay?
This is about us, about our family.
What if Sam's uncle had died of alcohol poisoning
and she wanted you to give up the bar?
Come on, you're being ridiculous.
Why? Because it's your thing and not my thing?
Hey. Uh...
Oh. Bad time?
Yeah, we're kind of in the middle...
Okay, I'll wait in your office.
Uh, no rush, but it's urgent.
Julian. What the hell are you doing here?
I mean, did you even leave,
or have you just... been here for two weeks?
Of course I left. I wouldn't lie to you.
Oh, no, that's right. You just never say anything.
I landed a few hours ago. I knew you were working,
and I wanted to surprise you later tonight.
Why? Why does everything always have to be a surprise?
It's romantic.
No, it's convenient for you.
I'm not even available tonight.
Okay.
Sorry.
I missed you.
Going to work has never been so burdensome.
I forget.
I forget how beautiful you are.
Stop it.
Don't be charming when I'm mad at you.
What's wrong?
It's nothing.
What happened?
I can't talk about it.
Then we have nothing left to say.
Good night.
I don't want to talk about it. How was your meeting with Sam?
I don't want to talk about it.
Oh.
Well, good thing we have a murder to solve.
So...
I was in the ring with Ryan.
What?
You were sparring with Ryan?
Please don't be jealous.
Anyway, he hit me with a hard left,
which made me rethink the bruise on O'Hare's head.
So I went to the morgue to look at it again.
It's a pretty serious dent.
And it's on the right-hand side of his head.
Yes, and now Doug thinks that he was hit from the front,
which means odds are strong that whoever did it
- was a lefty. - Which rules out Lon Vicars
because he only drank with his right hand.
Maybe Vicars had a partner he didn't tell us about.
Maybe he was protecting his partner. But who?
The wife. Goddess of Plutarch.
She had motive and knowledge of scaphism.
But nothing on Vicars' phone suggests that he knew her.
Lon Vicars was a victim of O'Hare's lawyering.
Maybe someone with a similar motive?
Like chirpy little Sara?
Well, she's one of thousands who hate O'Hare.
And I know where we can find the rest.
Becca, when was the last time you saw Mr. O'Hare?
And why do you look so familiar?
The day he left for Sedona.
- I don't know why I look so fa... - Oh, yes.
I know! You're that girl. Uh...
♪ No prenup, no problem. ♪
Wow, seems like your boss was quite popular.
No one had more loyal and appreciative clients
than Mr. O'Hare.
I'm sure his clients' ex-spouses
didn't share the same affection.
It's true. He was tough.
He could be abrasive and abusive.
I guess as his paralegal, I just got used to it.
Do you know if Tom's wife, Margot,
had any connection with a man named Lon Vicars?
Lon Vicars. The wife beater?
The only thing I know for sure about Margot
is that she was a nightmare.
That marriage was killing Mr. O'Hare.
He couldn't wait for it to be over.
They weren't gonna reconcile?
That's why he went on the retreat.
Reconcile? He left town to get away from her.
He was resting up before they went to war.
If Margot is the mind behind the crime,
Lon could be the muscle.
We need more evidence before we bring her in and she lawyers up.
Everything okay with you and Julian?
I'm worried about him. About his injury.
Well, your no job's no walk in the park.
But he knows what I do, where I go on a daily basis.
If something happened and...
he was killed,
would I even have found out?
At some point, yes, but you may never have known how.
All this uncertainty, the secrecy, the bandages...
I don't know if I can accept them.
I mean, should I?
How much change does a relationship require?
I hate change.
What are you talking about? You did change.
- For Andy. - Wasn't easy.
Yeah, but you did it, and you're happy.
And you seem happy with Julian.
I am.
But I'm also unhappy. Does that make any sense?
Oh, yes.
Duality.
Oh. Hey.
Good news. Just heard back from the lab that sourced the honey
from your boat victim.
Oh, I knew that was a great idea, Ryan.
Not just a good one.
They traced it back
to the only place within a 500-mile radius.
It's a small town in Greene County called Cairo.
Uh, apparently, there was
a local honey stand there.
Well, it stands to reason that our killer
either bought the honey there or made the honey there.
- Honey. - Do you have an address?
I'm sorry. The stand just closed.
Sadly, we're not here to shop.
I'm Detective Elizabeth Needham.
This is my partner, Dr. Dylan Reinhart.
Uh, we're looking for the owner.
Well, that would be me.
I guess you finally found the heart
of my illegal and very dangerous honey smuggling operation.
You could say we're on a sting.
Bea, uh, do you recognize
any of these people?
Not her.
But he's been one of my best customers the last couple of weeks.
Did he come here alone?
Well, usually he was with Sara.
And to be honest,
I couldn't have been happier to see her with someone new.
Would that be Sara Summers?
Yeah. Her parents have a cabin near the lake
- on the other side of the road. - Thank you.
Hey, is everything okay?
I'm sorry about Sam. That was supposed to be so easy.
I know. What did she think I was gonna do,
put the baby on the handlebars
and jump over Snake River Canyon?
You can still ride a bike and be a responsible dad.
Well, motorcycles, like divorce attorneys,
- can be polarizing. - Yeah.
I just really thought that was supposed to be our baby.
Yeah, and I was supposed to be her aunt.
I feel like we're in a horror movie.
I know. Me, too.
Which one of us do you think would die first?
- Definitely you. - Me? Why me?
Seriously? Uh, one: you're a guy.
Two: you're older than me.
Three: I can't die until I run screaming through the woods
and trip in front of a masked killer.
Well, I think you would die first
because one: you're blonde.
Two: blondes always die before brunettes.
And three: though I may not be brunette anymore,
I am definitely not a blonde,
so you...
die... first.
Police! Open up.
Ready?
Oof.
- Oh, God. - Oh, oh.
Well, we found the kill site.
Sweet Sara's
weaponized words have got nothing on this.
Good thing she likes to talk.
I have nothing to say.
- Any luck? - He spilled his guts,
but without a lawyer, Sara won't say a word.
Keep me posted.
Any luck?
Yes, Sara uses an encrypted chat client.
What's that?
It's a way of sharing anonymous messages
without being tracked or identified.
So, let's see what Sara doesn't want anyone else to know.
This is interesting.
Here's a thread between three different users
that might be helpful.
There was a third person involved?
Seems that way, yes.
So they're not just partners.
A conspiracy.
"Next week he leaves for his retreat. We'll subdue him
at his house and take him to your cabin."
A second user replied, "Okay,
all materials will be ready there?"
To which the third user answers,
"Are you sure there are no cameras around his place?"
And that's when the first user responded again.
"Yes. Stop worrying about that. Get your head straight."
Okay, so, we know
that one of these people is probably Sara
because her cabin is referenced.
Vicars could be the anxious one asking questions.
So the two of them are merely minions taking orders
from an autocratic leader.
Three strangers brought together
by their mutual and intense hatred
of one common enemy: Thomas O'Hare.
But how did these three strangers
initially find one another?
Well, the first user is very aware
of O'Hare's intimate details,
like his home address and alarm codes.
- Sounds like it could be his wife. - Speaking of his wife,
her department head finally called back.
Turns out Margot took a last-minute personal absence leave
- three weeks ago. - How long for?
Two weeks. And when she returned, she refused
to tell anyone where she went, why, what she was doing.
That's about the same window of time it took Tom to be kidnapped,
- tortured and killed. - Time to bring her in.
Scaphism?
That's how Tom died?
So you're familiar with the practice?
It's unimaginable. Then and now.
You would know.
So knowledge equals guilt?
Among other things.
You had motive, and shortly after Tom left for his trip,
you were a no-show at work for two weeks.
You also made a sizable withdrawal from your bank account.
Did you pay Vicars to help you?
No.
I paid Dr. Corinne Naylor
to do my face-lift.
And tummy tuck.
I was getting ready for what I thought
would be my second honeymoon.
I loved Tom.
So you keep telling us.
But you're also a teacher.
Maybe you taught Vicars about scaphism.
I mention it a few times a year in my lectures.
I am no expert.
You're welcome to read them.
How soon can you get them to us?
I'd have to ask Becca.
Becca Horner?
Tom's paralegal, she transcribes them for me for extra cash.
Oh, my God.
She had all of his alarm codes.
She knew his schedule.
Turns out Becca Horner wasn't born Becca Horner.
Her given name was Rebecca Johnson.
Horner was her mother's maiden name.
She changed it after her parents divorced a few years ago.
Let me guess, O'Hare represented her father in that divorce?
Indeed. Despite a string of DWIs
and a history of alcohol abuse, O'Hare made sure
that dear old dad got custody of her younger sister.
That's a story that probably doesn't end well.
It ends with Becca's kid sister
being fatally injured in a boating accident.
Dad blew twice the legal limit on the Breathalyzer.
And that may be why she used the boats as a murder method.
Becca was studying abroad when all of this happened,
the custody decision, the accident...
Her sister suffered for 12 days in extreme pain
before succumbing to her injuries.
The same amount of time the ME estimated
that O'Hare was tortured.
Good story.
Very circumstantial, though.
We need a confession.
We think we know how to get one.
What'd you have in mind?
We put Sara in the conference room with Detective Clark.
He'll be undercover as another suspect;
that way, she'll trust him more.
Officer Clark will encourage her to play a game with him.
Something that requires putting pen to paper.
And then, after we pick up Becca,
we'll parade her past Sara.
Oh, looks like Sara hasn't finished writing out
her confession for Detective Clark yet.
Hmm. She must have a lot to say.
That's when we turn up the heat. Literally.
We put her in the stuffy, unventilated box
and let her stew in her own thoughts.
After an hour or two,
when her anger reaches a boiling point,
we bring in our secret ingredient.
Do you think that'll work? That Becca will turn on Sara?
When push comes to shove,
Becca's survival instinct will kick in.
Untrustworthy people have difficulty trusting others.
Even when they're telling the truth.
Did you have a nice talk with the detective?
What are you talking about? I didn't say anything to anyone.
I saw you in the conference room, writing your confession.
Confession?
I was playing word search with another suspect.
You must think I'm a special kind of stupid.
It crossed my mind when the body turned up.
You said no one would ever find it.
That Lon weighed it down with stones.
Would you keep your mouth shut!?
Oh, God. Get your hands off me.
- Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. - She attacked me.
Whatever she told you, don't believe her, she's a liar.
Not my impression.
I didn't say anything.
I am still waiting for my lawyer.
Yeah, right. Did she tell you that I never touched Tom?
That she and Lon did all the torturing?
She killed him.
You ran the whole operation.
She spent months looking
for people who hated O'Hare as much as she did.
She's the one who got us all together.
What they did to Tom was sick.
I was joking about all that scaphism stuff!
Oh, please. She was at the cabin, too.
I recorded all our phone calls. You can hear for yourself.
I can't believe you sold me out.
Actually, you sold her out first.
What about her written confession?
No, Sara was telling the truth.
They were just doing a word search.
Detective Clark. Nice to meet you.
Just stick to the facts.
The Chief of D's does not need
an entire dissertation on the nature of revenge.
Oh, then I guess I'm done.
And since I am, could you call Margot?
Tom did want her back.
Julian checked his computer and found out that his retreat
was actually a rehab for workaholics.
Huh.
New Yorkers are messed up.
It's called a boat and a fishing rod.
How did Julian sound?
Why don't you call him?
Well, thanks for your help today.
Glad I could make progress on somebody's case.
Hmm. Go, go, go, and patience.
- Duality. - Mm-hmm.
Thanks for the ride.
Hey, what happened to your bike?
Oh, I just thought I might enjoy
driving something else for the moment.
Hmm.
Has he killed again?
Or are you next?
Seeing you hurt... that's hard.
I know.
Not knowing where you were...
when or if I'd ever hear from you again.
It's the nature of my work.
I know and I respect what you do for a living.
But...
But I've been through that in the past.
And... before this gets any more serious,
maybe we should just cut our losses
before one of us really gets hurt.
Well, it's too late for me.
I've already fallen in love with you.
But I do understand.
My job isn't something I can walk away from.
It doesn't mean they can't coexist.
Maybe they... can.
But... n-not for me.
I can't live like this, Julian.
It's why I need to walk away from us.
Hey.
Okay, so the heatwave broke,
the AC is fixed and now you're sweating?
Mm. Hyperhidrosis.
Emotional sweating.
Okay. And why is this happening?
- Because... - You know what?
Before you even say anything, I...
I would like to apologize.
You were right. You-you shouldn't have to...
give up something you love just so that we can start a family.
- I've decided to sell my motorcycle. - Oh, thank God.
Nothing is or should be more important
than us starting a family.
What made you change your mind?
Well, I've been reflecting a lot, recently,
- on the nature of duality... - You know what?
Never mind. It doesn't matter.
I am gonna call Sam and let her know.
Oh, I-I already did.
I-I thought we could tell her together.
Absolutely. Yes, uh, great.
W-When?
How about now?
Is-is now good?
Sam, come on in.
Thanks-thanks so much for coming over.
It sounded important.
Uh, it is.
Can I get you anything?
Uh, without any lemons, of course.
No, I'm good. Hey, Andy.
Hey, Sam.
What did you need to talk about?
I got my first motorcycle when I was 16.
Back then, it was the only thing
that made me feel free.
It came to feel like a part of me.
But, I realized, not nearly as much as our child will be.
I understand your concerns and I'm-I'm-I'm gonna sell my bike.
Wow.
I definitely wasn't expecting to hear that.
No pressure.
Actually, I've been doing a lot of thinking, too.
When I left, I realized I've been through almost
a dozen birth parent applications.
Everybody has pluses and minuses.
I know I do.
It was between you guys and one other couple.
Until you, uh... found out I ride a motorcycle.
Yes.
And what I want for my child more than anything
is that he or she is loved.
When I think about how Andy lights up
every time he talks to you or about you,
or when you two held hands the other day,
I realized...
this child will be loved.
Because with you two, it's already baked in.
Are... Are you saying...?
I'm asking...
Will you be this baby's parents?
Yes. Yes.
Yes, yes. A thousand times yes.
Thank you. Thank you so much.
W-We're gonna have a baby.