Blue Moon.
That our guy? Red shirt.
That's him. Matt Reid, married but looking.
- He doesn't look like a cheater. - Not what the wife says.
All you gotta do is get him to ask you for your number.
Watch this.
Is it me or is it hot in here?
Well, my phone says it's 68 degrees.
I guess it's just you.
That did not just happen.
Okay, okay, the guy's a little coy.
Just give him a minute... Let him warm up.
Remind me why we take these cases again.
Because they pay better than skip traces,
and there's less running.
I like running.
Try sports. Maybe that'll break the ice.
Hey, so, how about that Capitals game?
I don't know what that is.
Okay, what the hell's wrong with this guy?
Maybe the wife's wrong.
Maybe this guy isn't a cheater, after all.
Or... maybe we have the wrong bait.
What are you talking about?
You're up, cowboy.
Hey.
You work out?
Little bit.
King & Maxwell 01x05 Loved Ones Original Air Date July 8, 2013
==sync, correction by dcdah== for www.addic7ed.com
The mail was delivered.
Thank you, Edgar.
It wasn't me who delivered it.
Hey, look.
The check from our infidelity case arrived.
Ah... Matt.
How is your new BFF?
Go ahead. Make your little jokes.
We closed the case. We made some money.
And we helped that man face a poignant personal truth.
You did Matt a favor.
He called twice yesterday.
Case closed!
Oh, God. I don't think I'm ever gonna get used to that.
That's lunch!
Or that.
Where is your tie?
The back of my chair...
Where it will stay.
Sean, you're going to a funeral.
You're wearing a three-piece suit.
You need a tie.
To be honest, ties remind me of my days in the Service.
Suit, tie, shades.
Uniform of a human shield.
Well, least you never had to chase after a motorcade
in a pantsuit and stilettos.
That you know of.
There.
Much better.
Yeah.
How's Jack holding up?
He lost his only son.
I'm sure he's a wreck.
You sure you don't want the company?
No, thanks. I should do it alone.
Jack and I came up in the Service together, and...
there was a picture, me and the boys back in the day.
but where did I...
put it.
Where does the time go?
Time doesn't go anywhere, Sean.
It just is.
I should slip away.
Probably best.
So I said, "Sure thing, Mrs. Clinton.
"I'll take him for a walk.
Let me grab the leash."
She says, "I'm not talking about the dog."
Cut this man off! I'm calling the owner!
Sean King.
Well, well.
Haven't seen you since Mexico.
How you doin', Donny?
Good.
Terrible thing about Jason.
Oh, my. I can't imagine anything worse.
Yeah.
It's good to see you.
It's a nice place you got. You done good.
Thanks.
Opened up a year ago with my brother, Danny.
Yeah, you always said you were gonna open a place like this.
How's business?
Truth? Sucks.
But it's ours.
Stop by. I'll comp you a meal.
Then I'll get you to pay for it.
I bet you will!
It's good to see you.
Be well. You too.
All right.
Nancy.
Oh, Sean. Thank you for coming.
Hey, it means a lot to both of us.
I wouldn't be anywhere else.
How are you two holding up?
It just doesn't make any sense, Sean.
They said he jumped off the roof of his office building.
You knew Jason as well as anybody.
He had everything to live for.
His job was going well.
He was buying his first house.
The Washington P.D. have rubber-stamped this thing.
They decided it was a suicide and just closed the case.
I still have some friends there. I could make a few calls.
Actually, Sean, we were thinking
that maybe you could look into it.
Me?
Yeah.
There's no one better.
I can get you a copy of the police report,
and maybe you can see if they missed anything.
Okay. Give me a few days.
I'll talk to my partner. We'll see what we can dig up.
So, how well did you know the kid?
I used to go to his T-Ball games.
For a while there, I was Uncle Sean.
Okay, well, maybe we can figure this out.
Police report says this is the launch point.
Body landed in the street.
Severe head trauma,
internal injuries consistent with a fall of that magnitude.
Detectives found no sign of a struggle, huh?
No run-up footprints,
no disturbance in the roof gravel.
Hate to say it, Sean, but this really does read like a suicide.
Edgar?
Who's your friend?
You're my friend, Sean.
This is a test dummy.
I see.
Got five impact sensors and three wireless cameras
all connected to my computer via Bluetooth.
You're not planning to...
Your friend's son, Jason, was pushed.
Sean, isn't that your car?
Yeah.
- A-ask before I act. - Right. Ask, act... that order.
Sean, it was a near-miss.
It sheared my side-view mirror off.
It's not even that nice a car.
You're not helping.
W-we owe the research facility $786.
For what?
For Clarence.
He has a name.
Perfect.
I used Clarence to conduct trajectory analysis.
The arc tangent of the angle of fall
is the ratio of vertical to horizontal velocity.
Yes, that...
That's right, Sean.
Guess you've been reading more than just romance novels.
Occasionally.
I used Clarence to determine the vector of trajectory
from where the victim fell.
28° is the maximum angle of descent possible
if the victim would've just jumped.
But this says that... Clarence fell at 34°.
To reach 34°, the body would've had to have been propelled.
Pushed.
Bingo.
Jack was right.
Jason was murdered.
This is great work, Edgar.
Does this make up for the car mirror, Sean?
No.
Washington P.D. closed the case.
We're gonna need more evidence if we want them to open it.
I say we talk to Jason's coworkers.
An investment firm might not want us
poking around, asking questions.
Edgar, where did you put
that file of evidence from the, um...
Bank-fraud case that you asked me to file?
Left cabinet, bottom-right drawer.
Way to organize, Edgar.
No chance.
You want to talk to my employees, you get a warrant...
Or open an investment account for $10,000 or more.
Well, that's too bad.
Uh, what are those?
Jason Turner's personal files.
You know, confidential transactions,
bank records... stuff like that.
Michelle, who is that person in your family, again,
works for the S.E.C.?
- My Uncle Lou. - Her Uncle Lou.
Heads up the compliance division.
He's a good guy. He makes his own beer.
And sausage.
Who are you calling?
My Uncle Lou.
Well, hey, there's no need
to go bothering your Uncle.
- Lou. - Right.
Lou or... the S.E.C.
This is a murder investigation.
We want unfettered access to every one of your employees.
This is a complete staff list... by name and position.
And your office surveillance footage.
I'll pull the digital cards for all five cameras.
So helpful.
So nice.
I'm just an associate.
I trained under Jason.
It's all such a shock.
And where were you the day Jason died?
Where I always am.
My little home away from home.
You sure about that?
I am.
Why?
Security cameras tell a little bit of a different story.
Please.
You don't understand what it's like.
Why don't you tell me about that?
No one ever leaves.
They work until they drop.
A-and the pressure's so intense, I-I-I can barely breathe.
Would you like some water?
Yeah, thank you.
Um...
I have a trick... Um...
I leave coffee on my desk and my purse on my chair
and music playing on the computer,
and I sneak out.
Everybody here does it.
Is that what you did the day Jason died?
Yeah, I slipped out the back
to go home and feed my cat, Mr. Friskers,
and, um, take a nap.
My doorman can vouch for me.
I bet that's Mr. Friskers right over there.
Yeah.
Isn't he a big ball of cute?
Oh, look at that... he's in pajamas.
Yeah, I actually made those for him.
Of course you did.
Name's Chad.
They call me...
Chad.
Hello, Chad.
I'm a big producer around here.
Jason and I were competitors.
But it's dog eat dog, man.
It's not my fault he couldn't take the heat.
Where were you the day Jason died, Chad?
I was at my trading desk.
I never punch out.
When the markets close, I hit up the Nikkei.
I write trades 'round the clock.
That your trading log, Chad?
Yeah... from the day Jason died.
Did big volume that day.
These trades were logged exactly 1.7 seconds apart.
Huh.
I'm, uh... consistent?
These transactions were made by a robo-trading program, Chad.
Where were you really?
So, this is where you come when you sneak out of the office?
I-I come up here to blow off some steam
during the trading day.
And by "blow," you mean...
A little boost... pharmaceutical-grade.
Get it from a doctor client.
I was here the day Jason Turner... went alley-oop.
Doing what?
Oh, a few lines.
Little cognac.
Breakfast of champions.
Anyone vouch for you?
Diane.
Who's Diane?
My intern.
Diane help take the edge off, too?
Look, I have a few bad habits,
but I didn't kill Jason Turner.
Did you see anything that could help us in our investigation?
Okay, I was a little busy. I didn't really see much.
I did hear a scuffle, okay?
Then... then I see a guy going down the stairs.
So you heard something and then you saw something,
but you didn't tell the cops
'cause you were too coked out of your mind.
Yeah, pretty much.
What'd this guy look like?
Balding, middle-aged...
Had a limp.
Looked like a janitor.
Chad... Don't leave town.
- Chad. - Chad.
Text from Donny Braddock, another agent in my old detail.
He says he wants to see me at his restaurant
and that it's urgent.
Okay, you go deal with your friend.
I'll see what I can dig up on our hairless, limping janitor.
Hey. You find anything?
Spoke with building maintenance.
They outsource janitorial to a firm out of Bethesda.
Let me guess... no middle-aged balding guys with a limp.
Entire staff are South Americans...
Young, lot of hair.
That means Chad was lying.
Or... he just gave us our first description of a killer.
How soon can you get back?
I'll try to make this quick.
I'll meet you back at the boathouse.
Sean?
Sean?!
Sean!
I'm okay. I was lucky.
I was far enough away from the blast point.
There was a bomb?
Improvised explosive.
Apparently, the police found a crude device inside.
Donald Braddock?
He's g-gone.
What?
I-I don't think the bomb was meant for him.
Why do you say that?
His brother, Danny...
He opens this place every morning.
Now, Donny switched with his brother this morning,
but he did it at the last minute.
I'm thinking the... the bomber couldn't have known that.
So Donald Braddock's brother was the target,
like Jack Turner's son.
What if someone is targeting family members
of former Service Agents?
You talk to our friend. I'll see what the bomb techs missed.
Michelle.
It's good to see you.
Well, I must've really pissed somebody off very high up.
Why is that, Rigby?
Whenever you two turn up where you don't belong,
I get a call.
I don't like getting those calls.
You mind telling me what you were doing here?
A friend of mine was killed in that restaurant.
I was on my way to meet him.
That puts me in the middle of this case.
Bombing puts it under Federal Jurisdiction.
It makes it my case. Stay out of it.
Are we really gonna have a pissing contest over this, Rigby?
We're the FBI.
We don't do pissing contests.
Hey, Sean, I think you're gonna want to see this.
Fresh burnout marks.
Somebody pulled away in a hurry.
And there's this.
These footprints are irregular.
One's deeper... more pronounced than the other.
Consistent...
with a limp.
These murders are connected.
Hate to interrupt... Not your case.
We've been retained by the family of another victim.
What victim?
Jason Turner. He was murdered six days ago.
We think we're looking at the same killer.
We'll call.
Stay out of this. You hear me?
They're not staying out of this.
Jack, we know your son was murdered.
Well, I knew if anyone could get to the truth, Sean,
it'd be you.
Thank you. Thank you so much.
Well, we're not at the truth yet.
There was a bombing yesterday... at Donny's restaurant.
Donny was killed.
What are you talking about? We just saw him.
We think there's a connection
between that bombing and what happened with Jason.
Wait... a bombing?
I don't understand.
The intended victim was Donald's brother.
Jack.
Somebody's targeting family members
of our detail in Mexico.
- That includes you, Sean. - Yeah, I know.
How many agents were down there in Mexico?
Well, there was me and Jack and Donny,
Bob Scott and Bradley Martin.
No one has heard from Bob
since he retired from the Service.
Sean, it's like he went off the grid.
We can try and track down Bob Scott.
Who do you think might have a grudge against us?
Well, one name pops to my mind.
- Miguel Salcedo. - Exactly.
- Who's Miguel Salcedo? - He was a meth smuggler.
His brother died in a shootout with us.
Miguel's in prison.
No. No, he got an early release.
He's back on the street.
I think I know where I might be able
to track down an address on him.
You do that. I'll try and find Bob Scott.
Well. I guess they'll let anyone in here.
Carl. Good to see you.
Tight group.
Impressive.
Just trying to keep it sharp.
You know the drill.
What do you want, Maxwell?
What makes you think I want something?
Haven't seen you in over a year.
You know the rule... "There are no coincidences".
Okay.
How about we play word association?
I say "Bob Scott," you say...
Retired.
When?
Last year... June.
You have his 20?
For a price.
Dinner.
The two of us.
Somewhere quiet.
Some music, some dancing.
A little wine.
Little more wine.
And then a whole bunch more wine.
We'll see what happens.
How about we shoot for it?
Okay.
I'm here to see Benny.
What business you got with Benny?
It's personal.
You got business with Benny, you got business with us.
Look, I am obligated by law
to tell you that I am trained in Krav Maga.
You try and intimidate me, be warned that...
Oof!
That's not fair.
I wasn't ready.
Oh.
Let me guess... you were ready.
That's enough.
Good timing, Benny.
I was just about to ram my ribs into their fists again.
It took you long enough to come out here.
Oh, I was just inside, reminiscing about you...
And your testimony against me in court.
Isn't that water under the bridge?
For you, perhaps.
Look, Benny...
I need your help.
You're lucky I find you so charming.
Come on. Let me help you up.
Benny.
This is important.
I'm looking for Miguel Salcedo.
What do you want with Miguel?
Somebody's targeting family members of ex-agents.
His name came up.
Miguel saw the light.
God?
- Solar. - Excuse me?
He's selling alternative energy in Florida.
You're barking up the wrong tree, Sean.
Look, Benny...
The son of an ex-agent was thrown off a roof.
Another retired agent was killed in a bombing.
The restaurant on Southwest Waterfront?
What do you know about it?
Bomb was C-4 inside a gas can.
That's what the prelim says. How'd you know that?
I hear things, Sean.
My source says
can had a Virginia P.D. bar code on it.
Meaning what?
Your killer is law enforcement.
You okay, Sean?
I'm fine.
I hit pay dirt.
You get an address on Bob Scott?
Better than an address. I got motive.
"How The Secret Service Destroyed My Life...
By Robert Q. Scott."
Where'd you get this?
A friend.
It was e-mailed to the Service's Personnel Office.
"I gave 22 years to this miserable agency.
"Everything I had.
"I got older, I injured my hip, I had surgery.
"When I came back, I was done.
"They took my gun, my badge. They threw me out.
"They're a soulless agency,
and they need to pay, like I did."
Not a happy camper.
My source said the bomb parts connect back to Virginia P.D.
Bob Scott was a volunteer cop in Virginia.
I hate to tell you, Sean...
We're looking for one of our own.
Edgar, I need your help.
I need you to find the man who wrote that..
It was sent over the Internet.
Can you track down where it came from?
People hide, Sean. I always find them.
Is this a bad man, Sean?
He could be.
I wouldn't ask you to do this if I didn't believe it was right.
And, Edgar...
this stays between us.
He used a proxy server.
Proxy...
led me to a ghost I.P.
Which led me to his real I.P.
You got him?
The address is in Virginia.
Edgar.
Yes, Sean?
This makes up for the car.
Hot damn!
Mexico.
Yeah?
Talk to me.
This is not a good time.
You're hiding something.
Michelle.
Someone is killing people
close to agents from your old detail.
Now it turns out the killer could be from that same detail.
I don't know that yet.
Come on, Sean. What happened down in Mexico?
This is my detail.
Funny.
Last time I checked, we were King and Maxwell.
I want to ask you
about Jack's trip to Mexico 10 years ago.
I just have this feeling that whatever happened down there
may have something to do with Jason's death.
All I know is, they went down there
to protect the Secretary of Homeland Security.
Anything unusual happen?
Aside from the young agent's tragic death, you mean?
An agent died?
I'm sorry. I thought you knew.
First I've heard of it, actually.
Who was he?
Bradley Martin.
What happened to him?
Died in the line.
That was the official story.
I always felt there was more to it.
Well, what did Jack tell you?
He never wanted to talk about it.
You know... The Old Boys Club.
Indeed I do.
Tell me more about the agent who died.
If I remember, I think Jack sent a card to the parents.
Ah.
Jack's old address book.
Here it is.
Ray Martin... Middleburg, Virginia.
The family moved down there to be near their son
on his job with the Service.
Is Jack here? Maybe he can fill in some of the blanks.
He was working in the garage. Let me check.
Hello?
Hey, Carl. It's Michelle.
I'm thinking maybe we can have dinner later on after all.
Great. What time should I pick you up?
Carl, I need a favor... I need a file
on an agent who was killed in the line of duty.
Bradley Martin.
Sure. No problem.
Thank you, Carl. I'll... I'll talk to you later.
Nancy? Everything okay?
Jack's gone.
Bob?
It's Sean King.
You in there?
Bob?
Someone there?
Show yourself.
Hello, Sean.
So, what took you so long?
What the hell is this place?
Sometimes, a man just needs a place to hide.
Bob Scott.
It's been a long time.
Jack. What are you doing here?
Did you follow me?
Well, I couldn't have found him without you.
You killed my son.
And now you're gonna pay.
You think I killed your son?
I read your manifesto.
You were pissed off at the Service.
And you killed Jason to get even.
I got my issues with the Service,
but I would never hurt anyone over it.
Jack.
Put down your gun.
Sean, it's me.
I got my hands on
Bradley Martin's classified service file.
His father, Ray Martin...
He's the one with the grudge against the Service.
He's been on a security watch list for months.
Two weeks ago, his wife died, and he unraveled.
He slipped surveillance.
I think he's our guy.
Call me.
Edgar, you gave Sean the location
of Bob Scott's property.
Yes.
Can you please give me the same address?
Edgar?
Sean said it was "between us."
Right.
When Sean said "us," he meant... us... All of us.
We're a team.
"Us" and "team" are not the same.
They mean different things.
Okay, this time, they mean the same thing.
When Sean said "us," he meant you, Sean, and I.
"Me."
You, Sean, and me.
Thank you.
"Thank you."
Jack, you're way off on this one.
I don't think so.
My witness says the killer was balding
and had a limp.
Well, your witness was wrong.
Jack... put down your gun.
If he's telling the truth and he didn't kill Jason,
then who the hell did?
I don't know yet, but I promise you...
we will find out.
Bob...
Someone is targeting our old detail.
Somebody broke into my trailer last week.
What?
I was asleep. I heard a noise.
I pulled my .45. The guy took off running.
- Did you get a look at him? - No, it was too dark.
Tried climbing over my back fence, and he fell.
Barbed wire took a hunk of flesh and a scrap of clothing.
You wouldn't... still have that?
Come on, Sean! Pick up!
What the hell?!
No!
No, no, no, no, no, no. You got to be kidding me.
Stupid...
Looks like you could use a hand.
I think I may have run out of gas.
Well, the station's 4 Miles from here.
I can run you down there, if you like.
Thank you. You're a real lifesaver.
Come on out.
Filled her up right before I left.
Don't know how that happened.
Oh, road's bumpy out here,
Might've jarred something loose.
Happens all the time.
Unit 7. Come in, 7. State your location.
Aren't you gonna answer that?
I'll go off the clock till we get you back on the road.
Middleburg.
You're a long way from home.
Lucky for you.
Give me your weapon, please, Miss Maxwell.
They left that on the barbed wire.
Part of a pant leg.
Look at the piping. It's from some kind of uniform.
A Virginia State Trooper uniform.
Benny was right.
Oh, no.
What is it?
Text from my partner. She's in trouble.
Jack!
Bob, watch your back. I'll call you.
Why are you doing this, Martin?
Secret Service took my son.
Showing them what it feels like to lose someone they love.
Why me?
So Sean King can feel what I felt.
Aaaaaaah!
Got it. Thank you. Middleburg State Police Dispatch
says they got a car out of radio contact.
Michelle's GPS should still be activated. Where is she?
This puts her at mile marker 44, Rustic Highway.
We're about a quarter of a mile from there and closing.
Michelle!
Jack, cover the road.
Martin! Drop the gun!
King!
You want to do it this way, that's fine. Take you both out.
She had nothing to do with it. Ray, I was there.
I know what happened to your son.
It was a drug overdose.
You're lying! You all didn't have his back!
We did, Ray. We had his back. We all had his back.
But Bradley died of a drug overdose.
We all thought he was acting erratic.
We went down to Mexico. He slipped away from the detail.
He scored some bad dope.
Not Bradley! No way!
Listen to me. No way!!
Listen to me, Ray. Listen to me.
We found your boy on the floor
with a needle in his arm.
And we covered it up.
We did that.
We did that. That's why it never smelled right, Ray.
But we did it because we wanted Bradley
to be remembered as a hero.
As a hero, not...
You son of a bitch!
You son of a...
Do you ever answer your phone?
Well, I was a little busy.
Oh.
See you at the car?
Got another call.
And another collar.
Double murder... not bad on the résumé.
Still tired of getting these calls.
Get used to it, Rigby. We're not going anywhere.
My patience is wearing thin.
You hearing me?
Nah. They're not hearing me.
So, about our team dynamic...
King and Maxwell.
Good answer.
I always say that.
Kind of sad that I was your only loved one.
Really? You have no one else?
'Course I do.
Who? Give me a name.
My Aunt Maureen, in Texas.
Kansas.
She might've moved to Florida.
Oh, God. This is sad.
- I had an Aunt Rose. Aunt Rose?
This is depressing. Now I'm gonna cry, Sean.
You have no family.
It's like he's looking through me.
It's because he is.
Oh, and, by the way...
National Zoo.
What? Where?
Panda house.
You did it in front of the pandas?
Somebody had to.
It's hotter when they're endangered.
How does it work, Sean?
How does what work?
Protecting people.
Ritter.
It's all about the security matrix, Edgar.
The security matrix at an event like Ritter's
is like a ballet.
Every agent plays their part.
The room is broken up into a grid.
Each agent is assigned their position.
That position is their world.
They don't exist outside of that world.
That one.
Bob Scott... he was on the detail.
His eyes are wrong, Sean.
Thank you very much.
==sync, correction by dcdah== for www.addic7ed.com