Previously on...
Renee confronted Lynette.
Look, you and Tom tried to make it work, and you couldn't.
Now he's moved on.
Carlos agreed to go into rehab.
I know a great place. I can call tomorrow.
Susan's secret work of art...
No one can see these!
Fueled the detective's suspicions...
All I see is four women that killed a guy
with a candlestick
and dumped his body in the woods.
And drove a wedge between friends.
More secrets?
- What did you think you were doing? - I was protecting you!
Yeah, well, great job.
Whenever Bree Van De Kamp was feeling low...
she found solace in the act of baking.
When her first husband passed away,
she made coffee cake.
When her second husband went to jail,
she made sugar cookies.
And when her teenage daughter got pregnant,
she made crème brûl�e.
So when Bree's best friends stopped speaking to her,
she hoped that her warm cherry scones
might thaw their chilly relationship.
Susan.
Hey, sweetie. Is your mom home?
Uh, no. She's at... church.
On a thursday?
She told you to say that, didn't she?
Only if it was you.
If it was the priest,
I'm supposed to say she's reading to the blind.
Will you stop pounding?
I just put Paige down.
I'm sorry, but no one will talk to me.
Really? I wonder why that is.
Look, I have made a mess of things,
but I want to make it up to you all.
You really think you can bake your way out of this one?
Of course not. It's just a peace offering,
a way to begin the conversation.
I have nothing to discuss with you,
not after the way you and Gaby lied to me.
Lynette, please understand.
I was only trying to protect you, all of you.
No! You were trying to control us
the way you try and control everything.
That's not fair.
You told us that as long as we trusted each other
and stuck together, everything would be fine.
It will be. As long as we have our friendship,
they can't do anything to us.
Don't you get it? There is no us.
There is no friendship. Not anymore.
You're on your own.
We all are.
Yes, Bree had always taken comfort in baking.
But when baking failed her,
she took comfort in something else.
In a place as peaceful as Wisteria lane,
the smallest crime can prompt a call to the police...
When a neighborhood kid makes a reckless mistake...
when children need to be taught a lesson...
when the teenagers next door start a band.
Yes, the women of Wisteria lane
were used to calling the police.
What they weren't used to was having the police... call them.
So... what's going on?
Not sure.
No one's talked to us yet.
Do you think we need a lawyer?
I don't know. Maybe Susan can paint one for us.
Lawyers won't be necessary, ladies.
This is not an official investigation.
It's just a... it's just a casual conversation among friends.
But if you want to bring lawyers into it,
I can open a case file, take your fingerprints.
No. No. We like the friend thing.
Great. So the first friend I'd like to talk to is... Susan.
Try my coffee.
The guys are always complimenting me on it.
Thanks. I'm trying to cut down on caffeine.
Gets you all jittery and nervous?
Yeah. I hate that.
So you feeling jittery and nervous right now?
What?
N-no. Absolutely not.
Uh, yum.
My compliments.
Why'd you paint this?
Uh, why?
It's... hard to say
why artists... paint what they do.
Gosh, that probably sounded so... artsy.
No, not really.
I would imagine it's even possible
that the artist herself doesn't really know why she did it.
Sometimes you say to yourself...
"Where the heck did that come from?"
"Maybe I shouldn't have eaten"
"that pepperoni pizza before bed."
Or maybe you say to yourself,
"I feel so guilty about what I did."
I-I-I don't...
I mean, who... who is that?
The guy in your painting.
The one in the grave.
No.
Uh, uh, no.
That came from my imagination.
Bull. It's him.
Ramon Sanchez.
A missing person from Oklahoma.
I don't know anything about that.
That isn't a painting, Susan.
It's a guilty conscience trying to find peace,
but it never will, ever...
until you tell the truth.
So you've never seen this guy before?
You already asked me that,
and I told you. No.
You know something, Lynette? You'd have made a good cop.
You know how to stay cool, keep your emotions in check.
Listen to me.
You women are good people. I know that.
But you're obviously covering something up.
Now forget about me being a cop, okay?
Let me tell you something as a friend.
A jury will forgive a lot when they understand
why something happened.
But first, you have to stop lying.
I'm not lying.
How much more of a toll
are you gonna let this thing take on you?
What does that mean?
It means that whatever it is you've done,
it's clearly the reason your husband walked out on you.
Sorry.
But you said to forget you were a cop.
Huh. Look at that.
What happened to keeping your cool?
Recognize him?
Sorry.
You wanna look at it for two seconds before you answer?
I got nothing.
Can I go?
He's a person, Gaby.
He has two kids,
not much older than yours.
Two girls, who may never see their daddy again.
I don't know him.
Now may I leave? I have a lot of things to do.
Oh, yeah? Like what?
Visiting your husband in rehab?
I heard about his drinking.
I'm sorry.
Yeah. Well, the good news is
it looks like we nipped it in the bud.
Oh, it's a new problem?
Yeah. Why?
Usually there's a trigger
when somebody starts abusing alcohol out of the blue.
Anything come to mind? Anything stressful?
He...
he had an affair.
Carlos?
That's hard to believe.
I know, right? I mean, who would cheat on this?
I meant because he seems like such a good man.
Well, he's not. He's a cad, a philandering S.O.B.,
but I love him.
So if I go there tomorrow
and ask Carlos that same question...
he'd give me the same answer?
You bet.
Great.
I might just do that.
I'll have another, please.
Okay.
You got a friend who can drive you home?
No.
Turns out I'm friendless at the moment.
But don't worry. I'll take a taxi.
You ladies sound like you're having fun!
What's the occasion?
Just, you know, girls' night out.
Left the kids and husbands at home.
Whoo-hoo! I'll drink to that.
Yeah.
Amen to that, sister.
I mean, who needs families when we've got girlfriends?
Am I right?
I'm sorry. Who are you?
Oh, where are my manners?
Bree Van De Kamp.
I heard you all carrying on, and, well,
really, I've been feeling a little disconnected lately,
and I thought, "Bree, a little human contact is"
"just what you need."
Uh, yeah, Kelly just had a baby,
and we haven't seen each other for a while, so we were hoping...
A baby! Oh, that's wonderful. Well, we need to celebrate.
Bottle of champagne!
It's on me.
So how do we all know each other?
Well, these two I know from college,
and you I know from randomly sitting down at our table.
God, I miss this.
And then one day,
you wake up and you realize you've got nothing.
Nothing.
Your children abandon you.
Even the gay one.
I mean, aren't gay men
supposed to be obsessed with their mothers?
As far as relationships go, forget it.
Two of them left me.
Three of them are dead.
And all of this I could bear as long as I had my girlfriends.
But now they've abandoned me, too.
Everything I touch...
everything I love...
Well, on that note, I think I'll call it a night.
Same here.
Wait. It's barely midnight...
Awfully early for four single gals like us.
We're all married.
You don't have to rub it in, Lynette.
Stop calling me Lynette. It's really creeping me out.
Wait. I've got an idea.
Why don't you all come back to my place
and we can have a sleepover?
Good night.
No. No, please... please come home with me.
I-I have a really big house with lots of empty rooms and...
Okay, lady. You want me to call you your cab yet?
No.
I'm just gonna finish Lynette's champagne.
Ben.
Hello.
How you feeling?
Fine. Why do you ask?
You don't remember last night, do you?
Of course I do.
Really? What do you remember?
I went out to dinner with a few girlfriends,
came home, and went to bed.
Uh, close.
You knocked on my door at 2:00 in the morning
to borrow money,
'cause the cab driver wouldn't take
the fried zucchini you had in your purse.
Then you cursed at me for not making you pancakes
before you stumbled back to your house.
How long you been off the wagon?
A few days.
I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't tell anyone.
It's just a temporary relapse.
I'll get it under control.
Look...
isolating yourself is only gonna make matters worse.
You got a great group of friends.
Reach out to them.
I can't.
We're not on speaking terms right now.
Well, I'm sure you can fix that.
I tried.
But they all seem to hate me.
Well, my recommendation?
Start with the one who hates you the least.
Oh. Not ready for that.
It's a beautiful day.
I'd hate for you to waste another one with a hangover.
Thank you, Ben.
See ya.
I know Chuck could tell I was lying.
I always do that thing when I lie.
Wh-what thing?
Oh, like I'm gonna tell you.
You have no idea how terrifying it was.
Look, have a drink. It'll calm you down.
I don't want a drink.
- Really? - Of course I want a drink.
See? I'm a terrible liar.
Look, if Chuck had something concrete, we'd know.
I'm sure he's just fishing.
He is not gonna let up.
He is just waiting till I crack.
Honey, you're panicking over nothing. The body's gone.
Chuck doesn't have a case without it.
No, the only way this thing blows up is if somebody talks.
Are you not listening to me?
I talk. Me.
I'm the one who's gonna send us away.
We need to get out of town,
just for a few weeks,
until Chuck finds someone else to focus on.
Not only would that look incredibly suspicious,
we don't have the kind of money to do something like that.
Okay. Money.
We need money.
We can have a garage sale.
Grab some chairs. I'll put up some flyers.
Trust me.
We're gonna stay here,
and everything is gonna be fine.
Wow.
You're an even worse liar than I am.
Oh. Hello.
Excuse me. Hello?
Someone is never gonna finish "The help."
What can I do for you?
I need to speak with my husband, Carlos Solis.
Is it an emergency?
No. I just need to tell him something.
Then I can't allow you.
Mr. Solis is still on restricted access.
What does that mean?
Uh, first week after admission, no visitors,
cell phones, or e-mails. No distractions.
We only want our patients to focus on getting better.
Okay, but I really need to talk to him.
I'm sorry.
Those are the rules.
Well, rules are made to be broken.
I'm sure there's a "No boobs on the counter" rule, too.
Seriously?
Male nurse.
Right.
You can come back on Tuesday.
- It's all my fault! - It wasn't your fault.
- I should've seen the signs. - It was mine. I was never around.
- Kid didn't have a role model. - We're getting you help, Jimmy.
- They're gonna take care of you here. - I don't need this place.
- I told you. I don't have a problem. - Manzani. We called.
Admissions is right through that door.
Thank you. Come on. It's gonna be all right.
We should've seen this coming.
Jimmy, we're only doing this because we love you.
Such a tragedy. So much potential.
All right, gotta go.
Excuse me.
Where are you supposed to be?
Oh, uh, I'm with them... the Manzinis.
If you're with the family,
you need to stay for group counseling.
Oh, I don't think I have much to contribute.
It's vital.
This way.
Come on, Tom.
I know you're there.
Fine. I'll get in another way
and pound on your door until you open up.
Yes?
Hola.
My name is Maria.
I forgot the keys to Mr. Tom's casa.
Could you let me in, por favor?
There's no Mr. Tom here. You have the wrong apartment.
No.
I am doing the cleaning for Mr. Tom.
Wow. Impersonating a maid stereotype.
Pathetic much?
Oh, Chloe, look,
I know your mother and my husband are leaving for Paris.
I just need to talk to Tom for five minutes
before they head to the airport.
They left an hour ago.
Who's there?
I got it, Ms. Schoenfield.
This is Ms. Schoenfield.
Do you know what flight they're taking?
It's really important I talk with Tom.
He's not picking up his phone.
Jeez, stalk much?
Come on. Come on. I'm not a stalker.
Seriously? My mom told me you were hiding under his bed
while they were in it.
So I'm certainly not going to help you
sabotage her trip to Paris.
Listen to me. Something happened yesterday.
And I can't go into it, but Tom needs to be here...
not for me, for the kids.
Please. Please.
Fine.
I've got their flight information upstairs.
Thank you.
It's clear Jimmy feels conflicted
about whether or not he belongs in rehab,
but his loved ones...
all of you in this room...
are here because you care deeply about helping him.
So let's start by sharing with Jimmy
the ways his drinking has impacted your lives.
Mrs. Manzani, go ahead.
Well, actually, can I go first?
I have somewhere I need to be.
Who are you?
I thought you worked here.
No. No. No. I am...
his girlfriend.
Ex-girlfriend, you know, since all the problems started.
Girlfriend?
Another thing you didn't tell us about.
She's not my girlfriend.
I never seen her before.
Yeah. That's the problem right there.
You know, how can you have a relationship
when your boyfriend drinks and doesn't even remember you?
Why are you wearing a wedding ring?
Oh...
'cause I moved on.
That's right, Jimmy. You had to hear it.
I seriously had you for a girlfriend?
You are smoking hot.
Yeah, I am.
Oh, my god. I do have a problem.
I was with someone like you. I don't even remember it.
Mom, pop,
I want to get better.
Oh, Jimmy!
That's the spirit, Jimmy!
Now there's a lot of people in here just like you
who can help you,
like, uh, like Jason Hurwitz
and Peter Morton and Carlos Solis, room 247.
Okay. Good luck.
Gaby, what are you doing here?
Are the kids okay?
Yeah, the kids are fine. I just needed to talk to you.
What's this? You don't lift a finger at home,
but here you vacuum?
This is my group task.
Recovery here is based on two core principles...
responsibility and total honesty.
Okay. Great.
Come in here. I need to talk to you about a lie.
So when Chuck asks what made you start drinking...
and I'm guessing he will...
say you cheated on me.
- With who? - It doesn't matter.
Someone ugly. Don't go overboard.
So...
Chuck saw Susan's paintings, he's questioned each of you,
and you think this one lie is going to throw him off?
He's got nothing else.
Gaby, let me tell you something about cops.
What you think he knows is about one-tenth of what he does know.
We have got to stop this guy.
God, this is a hell of a time for me to be stuck in here.
No, honey. Hey, hey, it's gonna be fine, okay?
You just focus on getting better.
I'll try.
Okay, well, I should get out of here before they find me.
Tell the girls I miss 'em?
They miss you, too.
Mr. Bergman, hi. Uh, remember me?
Remember you? Susan Delfino, you sold five paintings
20 minutes into your first art show.
You are my prodigy.
Are you here to revel in your glory?
Actually, no, uh, see, I'm...
uh, kind of in a rough spot right now.
Oh, dear. You seem a bit agitated.
You're not considering jumping off a bridge, are you?
But if you are, could you please leave behind
a large body of work for me to sell?
No. Uh, it's just, um...
I need the money from my paintings, please.
Oh. I just started on the paperwork.
You should receive a check in uh, four to six weeks.
Oh, no, no, no. I-I need it now.
I, um...
Have to get out of town for a while.
My housewife just got even more interesting.
Are you a junkie?
Gambler?
Are you on the run from the mob?
I can't tell you what it is.
I just really need that money.
Well, here's the thing...
um, I am having a teensy bit of a cash-flow problem.
But I assure you,
eight to ten weeks...
I thought you said four to six.
Okay, not so teensy.
Mr. Bergman, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't really important.
No, I will see what I can do,
but no promises...
my mysterious little housewife.
That's nice.
What's that for?
Oh, you were right. A hug should be for something,
like the one I saw you giving Bree this morning.
What was that for?
Oh, Renee.
That was nothing.
Oh, so you're just going door-to-door giving hugs?
What, is that an australian thing?
Look, there is nothing between me and Bree.
She's just going through something right now.
I was a shoulder to cry on.
Oh, as long as that shoulder isn't a gateway body part.
Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt. I only need a minute.
I just have to ask you
a couple questions about your girlfriend.
So ask me.
I'm standing right here.
Not you. Bree.
Funny.
We were just talking about your girlfriend Bree.
Good-bye.
Renee...
Why the hell would you do that for?
I don't know.
Just trying to make your life miserable.
Oh, and I got more.
I'm tracking down a missing person.
It turns out his last phone signal
came from somewhere on your construction site.
I don't know anything about that.
Doesn't matter. Still a great reason to shut you down.
How long?
Two weeks. Maybe a month. I don't know.
Oh, let me guess...
as long as it takes for me to lose my investment, yeah?
That sounds about right.
You're not getting on that property without a warrant.
Oh, jeez.
Where would a detective get one of those?
See you Monday.
Oh, my god. This tastes so good.
I know. It reminds me of the first time
Lynette and I ever flew first class.
We had been so used to traveling coach...
- Tom? - Yeah?
Please don't take this the wrong way, but...
you're on a romantic trip with your girlfriend.
Do you think it could just stay the two of us?
I'm sorry.
Old habits.
That is the last time you'll hear of Lynette.
To Paris...
ma ch�rie.
Good. Stay close with that mop.
Flight 502 to Paris will be boarding in five minutes.
I'm gonna run to the men's room. It's a long flight,
and airplane bathrooms freak me out.
Well, there goes one fantasy.
Hey, Lynette.
What the hell are you doing here?
I need to talk to you.
I can't believe you.
You think I want to chase you down in an airport men's room?
Now listen to me.
I can only breathe through my mouth for a few minutes.
Well, you can save your breath,
'cause I am going...
I am going to Paris with Jane,
and I'm sorry if you're having a hard time with it.
This isn't about you and Jane. Look. See? Good with it. Okay?
Okay, good. Then-then why are you here?
Because you can't go to Paris, not now.
Okay, I'm confused.
You don't care if I go to Paris with Jane,
but you're telling me I can't go to Paris with Jane.
I'm sorry. I have to tell you something,
but it's just really hard to say...
I'm sorry, but my plane is boarding. I have to go.
I'm an accessory to murder.
Here. Let me help you with this.
I think you've helped enough.
Gaby, please. I can't stand this anymore.
Can't we talk for a minute?
To be honest,
after what Chuck put me through, I'm kind of talked out.
Wait. What do you mean?
He interrogated us... me, Lynette, and Susan.
He called us down to the station and grilled us one by one.
Why didn't he call me down there?
Good question, given this whole thing is about you.
What are you talking about?
Bree, he wants revenge. He wants to bring you down,
and we're all gonna go down with you.
Gaby, please.
I will figure out a way to make things better.
No, you won't.
This isn't gonna stop until Chuck is stopped.
Say something.
Why didn't you tell me this?
I wanted to, a hundred times, but we weren't together anymore,
and it seemed wrong to drag you into it.
Tom?
Plane's boarding.
You've got to be kidding me.
Jane, I'm sorry. I know what this must look like.
Really?
You know what it looks like to walk into a men's room
and find your boyfriend's ex chatting him up
before your flight to Paris?
It's not like that.
Of course not. I'm the crazy one.
You two rendez-vous-ing in an airport toilet?
I'm the nut job. She's hiding under your bed?
Jane's the one who needs to be sedated.
Tom, I really can't deal with this right now. Can we just go?
You are not doing this to me right now.
We will go at the end of this month.
I promise.
Jane. Jane, it's really not Tom's fault.
Tom...
honey...
you know what she's doing, right?
You give in here, now,
it'll never stop.
I am so sorry.
It... but...
- there are extenuating circumstances. - Okay.
Then tell me.
Tell me what they are.
I think I at least deserve that.
Okay.
I'm going to Paris,
and if you want, you can meet me there.
I'm so sorry.
Lynette, don't.
Just...
don't talk.
Oh, my god! You brought it.
Now before I give it to you... oh, well, that never works.
What I was going to say...
I have a little proposition for you.
Oh, calm down. It's not sex.
Dang it.
I believe you have that certain something
that makes a great artist.
Maybe it's talent.
Maybe it's mental illness.
All I heard was "Great artist." Keep going.
Fairview is not the fertile ground required for you to grow.
I think we need to move your skinny little tush to New York City.
Move? Uh, no.
I just need to get away for a few weeks.
I'll set you up in an apartment.
You paint.
I'll take 50% of whatever I sell,
but let's not get bogged down in how the sausage gets made.
What about my family?
My son is in the middle of third grade.
New York has the best private schools in the world.
He can wear a little blazer to school.
Heck, if he can fit into a child's medium,
I can loan him one of mine.
I never really thought about moving before.
Well, what is keeping you here?
Yeah, not much.
Okay. Think it over.
But if you turn me down, then I'll know...
it's mental illness.
I want to offer you a deal.
A deal?
Really?
Terms?
Whatever I've done...
or whatever it is you think I've done...
you... write it up, and I'll sign a confession.
In exchange for...
you leave my friends out of it.
Oh, darn.
I was actually interested there for a minute.
What do you hope to gain by harassing my friends?
What do you want?
This.
You in pain.
You see,
I could never figure out a way to hurt you the way you hurt me.
If you had any idea how much I'm hurting already...
It's not enough. You know why?
Because you're too resilient.
Husbands die, kids leave, businesses collapse,
and Bree always bounces back.
But threaten her friends?
Please.
You're talking about the people I love.
They're my whole world. I have nothing else.
You have nothing else?
That's a bad position to make a deal from.
Sorry.
Hey, you remember that deal I wanted to make with you?
You marry me and I take care of you the rest of your life?
Maybe you should've taken it.
Hey. You're old and pretty much housebound.
Have you noticed if Ben's been "Entertaining" a lot lately?
This is what I get for not having a pit bull.
I think he's cheating on me.
Ben? No, he-he seems like a great guy.
My ex was a great guy, too. Ask any stripper in New York City.
Oh, my god! I cannot go through that again.
I-I just can't.
Renee, I may not be your biggest fan or... even like you,
but there's one thing no one can argue with...
you are hot.
Pardon? Look at you.
You're a knockout...
those gams, those curves, that killer smile.
Basically you're me 35 years ago.
So this is my future?
The point is,
whoever this woman is, she can't hold a candle to you.
Oh, thank you, Karen.
Now go out there and fight for your man.
You're right. Tonight I will throw on a little nothing
and make a house call.
Thatta girl.
You know what?
I wish I had known you 35 years ago.
We would've made a hell of a team.
Hey, we still can if the aussie's into it.
Stop packing. We're not moving.
Don't you see how great this is?
Living in New York, getting paid to paint...
it's an amazing opportunity.
To uproot our family
and move somewhere we've never lived before?
So we'll go for a few weeks and see how we like it.
Susan, you do know that if Chuck wants to take you down,
moving to New York's not gonna stop him.
I know that.
Well, then why would you want to give up the life we have here,
after all this time?
Because it's different.
Before, all I had to do was look out that window
and I'd see a true friend...
someone who would do anything for me or my family, but now...
it's all gone.
You think you're gonna find that somewhere else?
You're just running.
Okay. So I'm running.
Mike, if I get caught, I could go away for a lot of years.
So in the meantime,
why not try to live the life I've dreamed of?
It's not my dream.
And if this is something that you need to do,
you're on your own.
- Hello, Gaby. - Celia, get back here!
- Is this a bad time? - Give me that now! Celia!
Chuck, I have 2 daughters under 13.
It's always a bad time.
Yeah, why don't you just step outside here for a second?
So did you talk to Carlos?
He's obviously ashamed of his affair. The whoremonger.
But at least he's honest about it.
No. I wound up taking a different angle on the investigation.
Actually, you were the reason for that.
Me? What do you mean?
Do you remember when we were talking about this guy?
Vaguely.
I remember it vividly,
'cause it was the oddest thing...
You see, when Susan saw this picture, she nearly passed out.
And when Lynette saw it,
she willed herself into not reacting.
But you...
you smirked.
That's crazy. Why would I do that?
Same question I asked myself.
So I started doing some digging into your background.
Turns out,
Ramon Sanchez, formerly of Oklahoma,
is actually...
Alejandro Perez...
your stepfather.
And you never mentioned that.
Oh, come on, Chuck. You can't even see who...
at this point, I don't think you should say anything
without a lawyer present.
Wait. Am I under arrest?
Not yet.
But based on this, I have to start an official case file.
I'm gonna need you to come down to headquarters
for an interview. Be there tomorrow at 10:00.
And, Gaby, if you don't...
I'll send a squad car to get you.
Hi. I need to speak with Carlos Solis immediately.
- I'm sorry, but Mr. Solis... - Yeah, I know.
I know you have that anoying no-contact policy,
but this is an emergency.
Mr. Solis isn't here. He checked himself out two hours ago.
What? Why didn't you stop him?
He was not in a mood to be stopped.
Ben, are you in there?
I'm wearing leather and I'm getting cold.
Ben?
Bree, no need to call me back.
Just wanted to let you know that
my unofficial investigation's about to go official.
Be at the station tomorrow morning at 10:00.
Bring a lawyer.
Just when my friends needed each other most,
they found themselves utterly alone...
One with the frantic need to find her husband...
One with the consequences of revealing a painful secret...
And one with the feeling that she simply no longer belonged.
But for one of my friends,
the sense of isolation was so complete...
Here you go.
There might be no escaping it.
Continental breakfast runs till 10:30,
but the good stuff's gone by 8:00.
Oh, I don't think I'll be having breakfast. Thank you.
Suit yourself.
Do you remember how wonderful things used to be on the lane?
I had the perfect life.
Doctor husband...
two beautiful children...
oh, and such dear friends.
What happened?
How did I lose it all?
Things change, Bree.
I'm so unhappy.
Are you happy now?
I'm not unhappy.
Sync by YYeTs Corrected by MystEre www.addic7ed.com