Help!
Stacey, I'm Detective McNair.
I'm here to take you home.
It's gonna be okay.
I knew you'd come, McNair.
Hands.
Let her go, Vlad.
You have me as a hostage now.
I'm greedy.
I'm gonna take you both.
Now, put the gun down.
Kick it over.
Aah!
I'm greedy, too.
For justice.
Looks like they're kicking me out.
We're all about the tough love.
Here are your papers for the court
saying you completed your rehab,
and the stuff you came in with.
Ah!
The outfit that trended.
Hashtag, no underwear. Hashtag, no dignity.
Hashtag, no memory.
Now that you're leaving,
I have to tell you, I'm a huge fan.
I loved you in "Hot Suspect."
I wish they hadn't cancelled the show.
You know what they say behind that door...
you have to accept the things you cannot change,
without the pills and booze.
We're all rooting for you, Sam.
Let's go.
So, 60 days of sobriety,
how are you feeling?
Naked and afraid.
I need to put all this behind me, Syd.
I need to work.
- Is there any work? - I'm sorry, Sam,
but after everything you did,
no one wants to risk hiring you.
Syd, I got dumped by my fiancé on the red carpet,
the same week my show got cancelled.
So, yeah, I lost it.
Does everyone forget that I showed up for 15-hour days
- every day for eight years? - Yes, they forget.
But, breaking into your ex-fiancé's house
and lighting his bed on fire,
they remember.
Syd, if I can't act, what am I supposed to do?
Reach into my bag.
There's a script
by this hot young writer-director.
He wants you. "A Kiss for Murder."
They want me to play the P.I.?
This is your ticket back.
But you absolutely cannot screw this up, Sam,
or you're done.
I'm done screwing up.
In fact, I'm going to be the best private investigator
to hit the screen in decades,
friggin' Oscar-worthy.
Syd, didn't you used to date a P.I.?
I love the view.
It's like being god looking down from Mt. Olympus.
I prefer the street, myself.
That's why I hired you, Mr. Valetik.
So, have you found my stolen Margatti Supercar?
As a matter of fact, I did.
The thief was keeping it
in a storage space in Long Beach.
He paid cash. Nearly untraceable.
Do you know who took it?
Yeah.
You did.
Me?
Why would I steal my own car?
I asked myself the same thing.
Guy's rich, doesn't need the insurance money.
But then...
then I noticed the damage to the front end.
You reported the car stolen the afternoon of May 9th.
Where were you that morning at 2:19 A.M.?
I was home, asleep.
Oh, I checked flight records.
Your private jet landed at Burbank at 1:57 A.M.
You know what happened 20 minutes later?
An unidentified motorist
struck and killed Dean Copeland.
He was 17 years old,
in a hit and run less than three miles away.
Hey, pal, I don't know what you're thi...
I'm not your pal.
You couldn't get the car fixed
without attracting attention,
so you hid it.
But you had to keep up appearances.
You had to explain why it was missing.
You even hired a detective to complete the picture.
Except you hired the wrong one.
John Killen, you are under arrest
for vehicular manslaughter and felony hit and run.
I swear to God, I will destroy you.
Get in line.
Boys.
You have the right to remain silent.
So, how'd it go?
I don't think Mr. Killen
will be paying the balance of his bill.
You couldn't wait and bust his ass
till after we got the check?
Then maybe we could buy new computers.
What's wrong with the ones we have?
They worked when we got 'em.
Yeah, so,
we got a new missing persons in the conference room,
and there's someone in your office
who says she's an old friend?
Uh-oh.
Nice to see you too, Eddie.
Really? 'Cause the last time you saw me,
you told me to go to hell.
Looks like you took it to heart.
What do you want, Syd? I have a meeting waiting.
Remember that favor you owe me?
I was wondering when you'd call that in.
You know my client, Sam Swift?
The tabloid train wreck?
What's the trouble now? Blackmail? Sex tape?
No. All that's behind her now.
- Then what do you need me for? - There's this role.
Private investigator. Former cop. Noble.
Fights for the underdog, used to be the best.
Sound familiar?
A ride along with an actress?
She wants her performance to be authentic.
Mnh-mnh. I'd rather swallow razor blades.
- Eddie. - Nope.
Eddie! This is my ask.
Full access to your process for Sam for a week.
The producers will even pay you.
And from what I hear, you could probably use the money.
Not that much.
Syd, I take what I do seriously.
All right? The people that come here,
they put their trust in me.
I'm not about to risk what is left of my business
to babysit a spoiled, overprivileged,
out-of-control ego!
- She's behind me, isn't she? - Yep.
And I haven't needed a babysitter
since I was 10.
Oh, right. I'm sorry.
At your age, they call them sponsors.
Syd, you didn't tell me he was hilarious.
Sam, Eddie. Eddie, Sam.
Why don't you two get to know each other?
Mm.
You're doing this. Come on, Syd.
And then, we're even.
Oh, and Eddie, try not to sleep with her, too.
So, I take it you don't like actors.
No, no. I like actors.
Actors are hard-working, they're talented,
they're under-appreciated and underpaid.
What I don't like are stars.
Oh, come on, Eddie.
Everyone likes stars.
That's why they're stars.
Not me. I've worked for them.
They think because they are rich and good-looking
that the rules don't apply.
See? That's the genuine screw-you attitude
that I wanna study.
Hey, she looks just like you.
Uh, missing person in the conference room's
- still waiting. - Well, tell him I'll be right there.
- We have a case?! - No.
I have a potential client.
You can just wait here.
Wait, are you kidding?
I came here to learn, not wait.
This is perfect!
I can be in on an investigation from the beginning...
get to know how you think, you know,
how you... how you work, crawl under your skin.
My skin is already crawling.
Wait.
I could've sworn Syd said full access.
Okay, fine.
Here's the rule... no talking.
You want to act? Act invisible. You're a ghost.
A fly on the wall. You got it?
Invisible ghost fly. Got it.
Uh, boss? Something I should know?
Yeah, I'm gonna need more antacids.
What's the client's name? Karl Rainey.
Please, God. Let this one be simple.
Mm.
What's the rule? Don't talk. Be invisible.
Mr. Rainey, I'm Eddie Valetik.
- Thanks for coming in. - Thank you.
I'm sorry, aren't you...
Sam Swift.
I'm observing Mr. Valetik for a new role.
But I... I assure you, Mr. Rainey,
everything you say here will be confidential.
Now, how can I help you?
It's my daughter.
I think she may have been murdered.
Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com
This is Lynette.
She's a junior at the University of Louisville.
She's a great kid, straight-A student, everything.
Well, what was she doing in L.A.?
She had some interviews
for internships, media companies.
I don't know the names.
She called us when she got to the rental room
just to let us know she was okay.
She was due back in Kentucky two days ago.
And we waited at the airport, but...
Well, so, what makes you think she's been murdered?
We haven't heard a word from her in days.
She knows how we worry.
You contacted the person she was renting a room from?
The guy said she went out one day
and just never came back.
Left all her stuff.
Have you spoken to the police?
They took a statement.
Said they'd be in touch
when they assigned a detective.
I don't want to wait.
That's smart.
The first 48 hours are the most important.
Mr. Rainey, does Lynette know anyone in L.A.?
Maybe friends, relatives?
No.
Oh, and when I went to the rental,
I found this.
She never goes anywhere without that thing.
I thought maybe there was a clue in there
about where she went, but...
It's locked.
Yeah, and I don't have the passcode.
Something's happened to her. Something bad.
Can you please help us find out what it is?
Mr. Rainey...
Don't worry, Mr. Rainey. We're on the case.
If your daughter's out there, we'll find her.
I promise.
We'll be in touch.
What part of invisible do you not understand?!
You got to admit, those were some pretty good questions.
But then, you know, I've done
hundreds of those interview scenes on the show.
Except this wasn't a scene!
He's not an actor.
He's a real father,
whose real daughter is missing!
Yeah, my point exactly. He was hurting.
He needed someone to tell him that it'll all be okay.
Except we don't know it'll be okay, do we?
His daughter may in fact be dead.
It's very possible we may never find her.
In this business, you never promise anyone anything.
Well, no wonder business sucks.
Why would anyone want to hire you?
Because I tell them the truth,
that we will do our best.
But you? You promised we'd find his girl.
So, now, I have to deliver.
Well, I'm the one who made the promise.
So we have to deliver.
Come on, it'll be great. It'll be like we're a team.
We're not a team.
- Berto. - Yo, what's up?
Here.
Subject's phone is locked.
See if you can crack it.
And this is what we know about her.
I want you to do a full social media workup.
I want to know who she was talking with,
who her followers are, any recent unusual activity.
- Got it? - Okay, uh...
but it looks like we got
a lot of unusual activity right here.
Eddie, where are you going? To Lynette's rental room?
Will you hold up?!
I gotta ask you, why are you here?
After playing a cop for eight years,
I'd think you'd have this down.
Cop, yes.
P.I., no.
You work outside the system.
You're like the modern-day cowboys of the law.
And as an actor, the more real I can be,
the more the audience
understands and relates to my character.
It's all about finding authenticity.
Like on your show, "Hot Suspect"?
- Exactly. - Really?
Because none of the cops I know
wear designer clothes and five-inch heels.
What are you? Invisible.
And if you say anything? You'll shoot me.
Like I told her father,
she booked a room for a week.
And after about three days,
she took off and never came back.
- Sorry, do I know you? - No.
Now did she, uh, tell you why she was in town?
Um, I try to leave people alone.
They pay for the room,
- not for my company. - Yeah.
Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?
Any recent visitors, unusual activity,
- nervous behavior? - No.
She seemed like an ordinary...
college girl.
- Can you, uh, excuse me for one second? - Mm-hmm.
- What the hell are you doing? - You told me not to talk.
So instead you thought we should play charades?
I know you don't respect me,
but I'm actually good at what I do.
- Annoying me? - Acting.
I've studied thousands
of subtle physical shifts...
...that convey a character's emotional state.
Look. See how his shoulders are around his ears?
He's protecting his jugular.
People do that when they're hiding something.
And if his eyes indicate anything,
it has to do with that room over there.
Eddie, no joke.
Sorry about that.
Um, so, which room... which room was Lynette's?
- The guest bed, down the hall. - Hmm.
You mind if we take a look?
Nothing!
I could've sworn...
That's a cute bear.
What's his name?
Pervy?
Where is she?
What'd you do to her? Nothing!
I just... I just watched her!
That's all I ever do. I just make videos and I watch.
I don't know what happened to her,
but I swear to God I had nothing to do with it!
I want the files.
All of them.
There she is.
I told you he was hiding something.
- Admit it, you're impressed. - You are aware
I would've searched her room anyway, right?
Wow. You kick puppies, too?
What are we looking for, anyway?
What all detectives look for...
something out of the ordinary, something unusual.
Like that.
She's looking at the back of a local weekly,
a classified section.
So, who'd she call?
Well, we need to enhance it.
You can't enhance video resolution.
It's scientifically impossible.
Our show did it all the time.
And each time, it is moronic.
Would you like to know how we do it in the real world?
Watch her hand move, all right?
See that? Now you just follow the pattern
on the face of the phone. I see it.
2-1-3-5-5-5.
0-1-5-2.
An escort service?
Wait, Lynette was a good girl just out of farm country.
She was a straight-A student.
What would she be doing calling an escort service?
Maybe her dad didn't know her as well as he thought.
But now...
we know where to find her.
Wait, no we don't. There was no an address.
Oh, wait. You know this place? You seem shocked.
I mean, I figured, you know, a guy like you...
good-looking, employed... wouldn't need to...
What? Pay for it?
It's sad, right?
But, you know, sometimes, being a modern-day cowboy,
I get so lonely.
And I just need a little warmth,
the comforting touch of a woman.
Yeah.
That, or maybe I know it because I'm a P.I.,
and it's not the first time a girl's run away to there.
Oh...
Right.
Seriously? Here? It's an expensive neighborhood.
I actually know three producers
that live up the street.
Oh, hey. Maybe you'll see one of them inside.
That'd be awkward.
Yeah, she came here last week.
Not about a job.
Well, what then?
Listen, Eddie,
our friendship only goes so far.
Yeah, well, what can you tell me, Mads?
She was looking for someone.
Ricky Jenson.
Local muscle we sometimes use to protect the girls.
He's street, knows how to hurt people.
Not someone your gal should know.
- What'd she want from him? - Wouldn't say,
so I chose to be unhelpful.
Well, maybe you can be helpful to me.
You know where I can find this Ricky guy?
I need him, I call my people,
he shows up.
But, uh, try the Crown Ridge Hotel downtown.
So, what I don't understand is
why is a straight-A student from the Midwest
trying to track down some L.A. street thug?
I don't know, but whatever happened to Lynette,
this Ricky guy's involved.
I just got off with Lynette's father.
He's never heard of Ricky Jensen.
So I ran a search on all her social media.
There's no mention of a Ricky Jensen in any of it.
It's all about school activity.
Nothing about a media internship
- or why she was in L.A. - How about her phone?
With a million combinations, that can take a couple days.
But I was able to pull up a mugshot of Ricky Jensen
from public records.
Texting that to you now.
Maybe he's out.
Lucky us.
You're actually gonna pick the lock?
I never got to do that.
We always had to wait for a warrant.
You do know you weren't a real cop?
And yet, I was voted Most Trusted Cop in America
by People magazine two years running.
What are we looking for?
Anything that could give us a bead on Lynette.
Got it.
Metaphorical bread crumbs.
Looking for a trail of... blood!
Oh, my God. That's a lot of blood!
Ricky Jensen.
Guess he was home.
I'm guessing this is your first real dead body?
Yeah, the ones I'm used to seeing
usually get up and go to lunch
when the director yells, "Cut."
Valetik!
Which dubious event do you wanna explain first?
How you just happened to stumble on to a dead guy,
or what Ms. Clickbait is doing at my crime scene?
Actually, I'm trying to get away
from the whole, you know, drunk, no underwear thing.
That's why I'm following Eddie.
It's for a new role. I'm Sam Swift.
Yeah, I know who you are.
You wanna tell me about the dead guy?
His name came up on a job,
so I came by to ask a few questions.
- Never got the chance. - What's the job?
- Missing person... check. - Simple background check.
Really? Background check. That's what you're going with?
Yeah, for now.
Oh, my God.
You're Sam Swift.
I am a huge, huge fan.
I love, love, love your show.
"I'm greedy too. For justice."
I'm sorry. Sorry.
Sam, this is Mick English.
He's an M.E. with the L.A. Coroner's office.
Ah, the true unsung heroes of justice.
That's brilliant.
You know, back when you were doing all the...
I just thought the only way I'd meet you
was on my table.
But here you are, alive!
Yay!
So what the hell are you doing with this moody stiff here?
She's following him for a new role.
Hey, Mick, it's her first dead body.
Why don't you show her how a real crime-scene examination's done?
- Really? - Are you kidding?
I'd be honored.
So?
Long, long story, Chris.
I'll tell you about it later.
Tomorrow night? My date cancelled.
Happy to sub in.
Well, until then, whatever you're working,
you should move her off this case.
- Why? - Your dead guy?
He's got a rap sheet a mile long.
Word is he worked for Deacon.
Last thing you need
is some fake cop getting you real killed.
All right, Detective McNair.
From the looks of these wounds,
where do you suppose the shooter was standing?
Trick question.
There's powder marks on his shirt.
He was shot point blank.
And he probably knew the person who shot him
to let him get that close.
Well, uh...
Um, very good, yes.
Well, you can't make 200 episodes
without picking up a thing or two along the way.
Well...
let's see what secrets these wounds have to offer.
Hey, Mick, can you tell how old a tattoo is
by looking at it?
- You mean that one? - Yeah.
Yeah, it's much more faded than the others.
I'd say it's at least five years older
than all of these.
Huh.
We gotta go. Ooh!
Oh!
- Where are we going? - I'm taking you home.
You can follow me on another case, just not this one.
That what your cop girlfriend told you to say?
- Who? Detective Rollins? - Yeah.
- You two got a thing going on. - No.
Look, my sex-vibe radar is infallible.
Remember? Body language.
Well, it's wrong this time.
Okay, it's wrong this time.
Sam, stop. This is serious.
You ever hear of a guy called Deacon?
Wait, cops on my show used to whisper about him.
Said he controlled half of L.A.
But no one knows who he is.
That's who Ricky Jensen was working for...
the most dangerous guy in the city.
This isn't just a missing persons anymore.
This is organized crime, murder.
And I don't want to see you...
get hurt.
Or worse.
That's sweet, Eddie.
But I'm pretty sure that Deacon isn't our killer.
I know why Lynette was looking for Ricky Jensen.
Childhood sweethearts. So, how'd you know?
A tattoo with both of their initials
over Ricky's heart.
It's classic, a tragic love story.
"Romeo and Juliet," "West Side Story,"
where... where the good girl falls for the bad boy
and hides it from her parents.
It's a total Lifetime movie!
Ricky was in Tinsel Town surrounded by temptation.
Lynette finds out he's fallen for someone new.
She comes out here to end it by killing him.
Wait, can I see Lynette's phone?
- What are you doing? - Being an actor,
putting myself in the character's shoes.
I'm a lovesick girl, hiding my true feelings.
I'd want something to remind me of my secret love
every day.
Like making my phone password...
Your boyfriend's birthday.
How did you know his birthdate?
Mick's M.E. report.
Hey, I'm kinda good at this!
- She kinda is. - Yeah, yeah.
Except there's one giant flaw in your theory.
Lynette didn't kill Ricky.
The hotel clerk told the cops
Lynette was there two days ago.
I've been around a lot of bodies,
and Ricky's been dead longer than that.
He was already gone when she got there,
which means there's something else going on here.
Someone reset the phone.
It's been totally wiped... no photos, no e-mails.
Why would Lynette reset her phone?
Maybe she had something on there
- she didn't want anyone to see. - Hang on.
It looks like some texts came in
after the phone was reset.
"I got what you asked, but it's gonna cost.
You have the money?"
"Yes. Where do we meet?"
"Pier. One hour."
Look at the timestamp.
It's right after she saw Ricky, the day she disappeared.
"I got what you asked."
What do you think she meant?
There's only one way to find out.
_
That's our guy.
Stay here.
Are you kidding? This is why I'm following you.
To fully immerse myself in moments like this.
It's too dangerous.
You're gonna have to "immerse" from afar.
Here.
Watch through the binoculars.
But above all, you stay.
What the...
Did you just take my picture?
Oh, yeah, yeah.
On Lynette Rainey's phone,
Which makes you a prime suspect in her disappearance.
If the cops get ahold of this...
Whoa.
Don't make this worse, kid.
You got the wrong idea.
I don't even know her.
You met with her a few days back.
That was strictly a business transaction.
- What'd she want? - First...
who's your friend?
Next time, I'm just cuffing you to the steering wheel.
Eddie, I didn't know you were kinky.
What did Lynette want from that guy, anyway?
So Lynette finds Ricky dead,
and the first thing she does is she texts this thug
for a burner phone and a gun.
She's planning on going after
her boyfriend's murderer.
She's gonna get herself killed! We have to find her!
Well, we don't have a lot to go on.
Well, what about the burner phone he sold her?
You got the number. We can trace it, right?
Another TV fantasy trope. No, it's not.
Cops can triangulate
- cellphone calls to cell towers. - Yeah, well, I'm not a cop.
And even a cop would need a warrant,
which in real life, it takes a helluva lot longer
than a commercial break.
I can get it traced.
You? Ha. No, you can't.
Oh, yes I can.
I have a friend.
Oh, really? You have a friend.
What kind of friend do you have?
Uh, he was a consultant on my show,
who works in Homeland Security.
We became close.
Very, very, very close.
He can track it easily.
Forest? Hi. It's Sam.
Oh, I know. I miss you, too.
Listen, I have a small favor to ask.
Can you track a phone signal for me?
This is it.
Forest says that the burner signal's
coming from inside.
Does your friend know he broke
about 11 federal
- and state privacy laws? - Oh, please.
You're just mad that I have
- better sources than you. - No.
I'm mad, because you think the rules don't apply to you.
Not all rules.
I just ignore the stupid ones.
Otherwise, I wouldn't have gotten to where I am.
Where are you going? Stay here.
Have you met me?
Eddie. Come here.
Take a look at this.
Drop the gun if you wanna live.
Maybe I should've stayed in the car.
Easy. Easy, Lynette.
We're on your side.
Wait.
Are you Samantha Swift?
From TV?
Oddly enough, yes.
And I swear, we're the good guys.
When his dad abandoned him, Ricky was 16.
He did what he had to do to survive.
A few months ago,
we decided we were gonna run away,
start over together.
- That man he was working for... - Deacon?
You don't leave his organization alive.
But Ricky figured out Deacon's real identity.
He thought that unmasking him was the only way out.
But he knew he needed evidence.
What evidence?
Financial records
covering all Deacon's illegal deals,
kept in a cabinet safe
in his basement wine cellar.
Ricky found the combination.
All he had to do was get those books,
and we'd be free.
Only, Deacon found him first.
- Did Ricky tell you who Deacon is? - No.
He thought it would put me in too much danger.
But they know about me now.
They're gonna come after me.
We need to go to the police.
You don't get it.
He owns the police.
There's only one thing I can do.
Find him and kill him myself.
Lynette, if you go after him, they'll kill you.
I'm gonna end up dead anyway.
At least this way,
that man pays for what he did to Ricky!
What about your family?
They're worried about you.
What are you talking about?
Your dad. He hired us to find you.
That's not possible.
My dad's dead.
Oh, God. We led them here!
That way, that way!
You trapped us!
Get down. Get over there. Get over there.
Stop. It's him!
- Who? - The fake dad!
Okay, listen. Shh.
What the hell?
- Turn that thing off! - I'm trying!
The man's an agent. Come on.
- What? - Get up. Get up. Let's go.
Oh, my God! Oh, my God!
Go, go, go!
All right. I think we're good.
You think we're good?
You almost got me killed.
Hey, Lynette. Wait!
Lynette, wait!
Hey, hey. Don't do this alone.
Let us help you. I've seen how you help.
I'm gonna finish this on my own.
Well, at least we found her.
Yeah.
I should've seen it.
You know why I didn't?
Because I was keeping an eye on you
instead of the client.
And what the hell were you thinking,
answering your phone in the middle of a gunfight?
I was trying to silence it so we didn't get shot.
It was Syd, by the way.
When I didn't answer, she texted.
The financiers backed out on my movie.
Great, great.
So all this time with you on my heels,
and I don't even get paid?
I knew this was a lousy idea.
Seriously?
After everything, that's what you care about?
You know, Eddie, you really put the dick
in detective.
Hey.
I liked it better when I was a hero.
- I'm sorry about the movie. - The movie?
I'm more upset about Lynette.
- Who? - The missing girl.
Only she wasn't missing.
She was planning to hunt down the man
who killed her fiancé.
But now his people are after her,
and she's gonna get herself killed!
Seriously? That's a movie.
Except it's not.
It's real.
And you know, for the first time
in a long, long time,
I felt something real, you know?
Like... like I was actually helping someone.
Like what I was doing mattered.
And I was good at it.
I'm confused.
Are you saying that you want to quit acting
and become a P.I. now?
No. No, I just...
The City Clerk's office.
Syd, I gotta go.
I gotta go. I just solved the case.
Eddie? If you're in there, I need to talk to you!
What?
Is that Detective Rollins?
I knew it. See, my radar is never wrong.
Is that what you came over here to tell me?
No. I had a revelation... about the case.
There is no case, remember?
It's a police matter now.
What about Lynette? We can't let her get herself killed.
I'll be going now.
- Eddie. Sam.
Aw, Chris.
Oh, it's okay.
We were pretty much done.
This better be great.
The combination Ricky wrote down...
look what he wrote it on.
It's not just a scrap of paper.
It's a file request form from the City Clerk's office.
Yeah, I saw that.
Okay. So what's at the Clerk's office?
Public files. Police reports. Arrest records.
What if no one's been able to find out who he is
because Deacon is a cop himself?
What if Ricky was combing through these files
trying to find some kind of pattern to reveal him?
Don't you think I thought of that?
Well, then what are we waiting for?
We know Ricky found him.
- We just have to follow his trail. - For what?
We have no client. There's no case.
What about Lynette?
We can't just abandon her.
We can't help her either if she won't let us.
Trust me, Sam.
"No good deed goes unpunished"
is a universal truth.
Is it?
Or is this about you,
what happened three years ago?
Marnie Stahr.
Like I said, I do my research.
I read the reports.
They all said it wasn't your fault.
Well, that doesn't matter.
I was hired to protect her, and I didn't.
And to punish yourself, you started saying no.
You went from the top P.I. in town
to only taking small jobs.
You are just like me, Eddie.
You need a shot at redemption.
Except in the real world,
there are no fairy tale endings.
Trust me.
I know, and so do you,
that whatever we try to do here,
chances are, it is not gonna end well.
We know it won't end well if we do nothing.
Is it a risk? Yeah.
But I would rather risk everything
for a shot at justice
than risk nothing and be nothing.
So what's it gonna be? Give up,
or are you gonna listen to your better angels
and make a difference in the world?
Wow.
That's a powerful speech.
Of course, I liked it better
when you gave it to your suicidal partner.
Was it at end of season three?
You know, when you were hunting down that murderous clown.
Fine. It's the same speech.
But it doesn't mean that it's not true.
Wait, hold... hold on a second!
The only way that you would know that speech
is if you watched the show.
You're a fan!
Hold on. You are a big fan!
No. Stop. Oh, my God, Eddie!
- Come on. - That's so cute!
- Shut up. - You're a fan!
Oh, my God. Is it exciting that you know me?
Berto, I need you to do some research.
Berto, he's a fan!
These are copies of all the files
Ricky Jenson requested. Not just police records,
but warrants and court cases.
I ran a few of the subjects' names...
drug dealers, prostitutes, drug runners.
All have some link to Deacon's criminal organization.
And other commonalities in the files?
How 'bout same detectives working the case?
All the cops were different, but there was something the same.
Look at who signed the warrants?
Superior Court Judge Noah. B. Chambers.
Now look at who tried the cases.
Chambers.
Half the trials ended in reduced-sentence plea deals
for giving up information on Deacon...
Information that never paid off.
Because he was controlling it.
He's Deacon!
He's not just above the law.
He is the law.
And he's always one step ahead
because he's the one who issues the warrants.
His people know exactly when the cops are coming.
That's not all.
I found this on his website.
Check who's in this photo.
Lynette's fake dad!
We got him! Right?
What we have is conjecture.
We know it's true.
But with all the people in his pocket,
we'll be signing our death warrants
if we decide to point fingers without proof.
Well, then, we need to do what Ricky was going to do.
Get proof.
We need to get in and get the ledgers from the safe.
Breaking into his house would be a major operation.
- It'd take at least a week to plan. - Yeah.
With a bullet waiting for us if we get it wrong... no.
Or we could just walk in.
Chambers is running for re-election.
He's having a fundraiser at his house
tomorrow night.
Oh, you wanna crash?
We'll never get close.
You're a TV star.
They'll see you coming a mile away.
Will they?
This is crazy. It'll never work.
Trust me. It'll work.
- Ready? - Oh, as we'll ever be.
How you like me now?
Oh, this is a bad idea.
Maybe, but it's the best bad idea we've got.
You know, I used to be scared of getting older,
but damn, I'm a serious cougar.
I can do this, Eddie.
Worst case, I get caught, you know.
And it becomes - one more public humiliation
in a long list of Samantha Swift scandals.
If we manage to pull it off,
we actually save a life.
Whatever you say, I'll hear.
We'll be in constant communication.
Now... do you remember your name?
The name's Dixie Burnside.
Really? A Southern accent?
I'm just getting into character.
Once you're inside, you mingle, you fit in.
Be inconspicuous.
Oh!
I am so...
sorry!
Paul Seaborn.
Have we, uh... have we met?
I don't believe we have.
Dixie Burnside.
Look, I'm sure you get this all the time,
but, you have the most incredible eyes.
Well, aren't you a charmer, Mr. Seaborn.
Please. Paul.
Would you excuse me?
- Duty calls. - Oh, of course.
Sounds like you made a friend.
Close call with fake Dad.
He was happy to see me,
but that was definitely a gun in his pocket.
In the back of the basement is a door to the outside.
Problem is, it's steel reinforced,
sliding dead bolts. Making it un-pickable.
So what you need to do is just open up that door for me
and just return to the party.
At some point, Chambers will make a speech.
Thank you.
I want to thank you all for coming.
When all eyes are on him,
that'll be your best shot at slipping out unnoticed.
According to the floor plans,
there's an entrance through the kitchen
and down this stairway.
I'm sorry, ma'am. You can't be down here.
If that's security, get out now.
Oh, I just need to grab a bottle of vino
and then I'll be out of your hair.
I can't let anyone back here.
Sam, go back. It's too risky.
You see, it's for the judge.
And Paul told me to tell you it was okay.
Mr. Seaborn?
If you don't believe me, we can go see him.
But I hate to keep the judge waiting.
You know how he gets.
All right. Come on.
Sam, talk to me.
I need to get rid of this guard.
What the hell are you doing?
You need to get out, now!
Okay, you got it? Come on. Let's go.
I'm sorry.
All right, we gotta move.
- Keep an eye out. The safe? - Uh, middle cabinet.
Ricky was right, this is everything.
Eddie!
Lynette, are you okay?
Damn it. That's why they had a guard down here.
Hands.
Step where I can see you.
I knew we'd met before. Gun, please.
On the ground.
Well, it's been quite a day.
First, Ms. Rainey there shows up with the catering crew,
and then you two.
Makes it easy for me, though, all of you in one place.
You're not gonna shoot us.
Your boss won't like the press.
What, because some has-been actress
just out of rehab killed herself
after accidentally shooting the P.I.
she was shadowing?
People will love that.
Now, the ledgers.
You won't get away with this.
Oh, yes we will. You know why?
Because we always get away with it.
Not today.
Do you know why?
Because I'm greedy...
for justice.
Greedy for justice?
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
It means...
that you should watch more TV.
Whoa! Did you see that?!
That was awesome!
I was awesome. I mean, you too.
But you know, you do this all the time. But me, who knew?!
Eddie Valetik, right?
You just made my Christmas list.
Think he'll knit me a sweater?
I think your life just got a lot more complicated.
At least there's enough in those ledgers
to put him away for a couple of lifetimes.
But I gotta say,
that was the stupidest thing you've ever done.
How did she talk you into it?
I'm still trying to figure that out.
- Good luck. - Yeah.
If it weren't for you guys, I'd be dead.
Thank you, Sam.
Oh, come on. Ricky was the real hero.
Standing up and putting his life on the line
so he could be with you.
But getting him justice...
you're a hero, too.
Bye.
Whoa, whoa. Whoa, whoa. Wait a second.
No, no, no. This...
Are those real tears?
I... just got a little makeup in my eye.
- Uh-huh. - Uh-huh.
Well, I guess this is it.
I guess so.
You know, for what it's worth...
...you didn't suck.
Come on, Eddie. Let's not get all sappy.
Mm.
Thanks for giving me a shot.
Good luck, Sam.
Hey, wait! You're my ride!
_
They were all waiting when I got here this morning.
It's gotta be all the publicity.
- Hmm.
- Okay.
Gimme me a minute, and then send the first one in.
Eddie, there's something you should know.
They don't want just you.
Hello?
Sam. It's Eddie.