( steam hissing )
( car approaching )
( engine stops )
( crickets chirping )
( car door closes )
WOMAN: You okay?
I think it overheated.
That much steam, it's probably a good bet.
I started
to call Triple-A, and then my battery died.
I don't suppose I could use yours.
Sorry. I left it at home.
But if you want a ride to town,
I'd be happy to drop you at the gas station.
No, thanks.
You mind if I...?
Oh, it's fine. My boyfriend smokes, too.
What?
Sorry. It's just, I'm an artist.
There's this project I'm working on
you'd be perfect for.
Is that your dog?
That's Buster.
Shepherd, right?
( phone ringing )
I thought you said you left your cell phone at home.
Hmm. Could have sworn I did.
May I use it?
Please?
Just about a few more miles to the gas station.
Still, I'd like to call my boyfriend.
Tell him where I am.
Tell him where to meet me.
Please?
Not a problem.
-( electrical crackling ) -Oh!
You ever think about those Ancient Greek statues?
( crying )
How hard it must have been back then?
( dog barking )
First, you had to find the perfect piece of stone,
excavate it from wherever it is you found it,
haul it back to your studio, I can't even imagine how.
( whimpering )
And all that...
is before the artist
could begin his work.
( muffled groan )
My process is a lot like that.
The hardest part?
Finding the perfect canvas.
That... would be you.
( crying )
( screaming )
( gasps )
Ugh!
( groans )
You coming to bed soon?
( sighs )
Just nodded off doing my homework.
I don't know how you do it.
I don't know how you look at that grisly stuff every night.
It's been a month now.
This guy's out there hacking up girls.
You're staring at pictures of his victims,
hoping to dream about him.
Me? I would have given up by now.
Yeah. It's my job.
And by the way, it just happened.
What do you mean? What just happened?
You finally had one?
After all this time,
you finally had a dream about this guy?
It was nothing big.
I mean, I saw the victim.
The rest of it didn't make a lot of sense,
but at least I saw the victim.
I guess that's a start.
That's it?
You finally have a big breakthrough,
and all you can say is, "I guess that's a start?"
I would think you'd be more excited.
Yeah, I know.
The thing is, I'm not really myself tonight.
SCANLON: Patricia Gilmartin, age 24.
Works as a hostess at a restaurant downtown.
We're positive this is the work of our guy?
The same brand
of filter-less he left at the other three crime scenes.
Found them outside in the alley.
Five cigarettes.
( sighs )
He must have been waiting out there for over an hour.
He's a patient perv.
( siren blaring in distance )
( sighs )
I get the feeling the anticipation's a big part
of it for this guy.
The way he hangs onto them.
Keeping 'em alive...
cutting them, cutting them, cutting them...
...until finally, they can't bear it any longer,
and they just expire.
I don't want to find this one in a Dumpster, Lee.
I don't want to find this one in a landfill.
If he took her last night, then she's still alive.
If he took her last night, then he's still
-enjoying her. -( phone ringing )
( groans )
Hang on. We need to find her.
-Knock, knock. Sorry I'm late. -Go.
My youngest-- she was having issues with potty training.
It's okay. You didn't miss anything
except your boss's foul mood.
The boys have already been through the bedroom.
There's nobody in there,
if you want to go in, see if you get anything
or whatever.
Sure.
Oh, remind me to tell you
about a very interesting program I saw last night.
It was the first killing, Kathy Summers.
The girl he picked up on the interstate last month.
And?
And it turns out, he has a dog.
Buster. His name is Buster.
I'm sorry. I guess I'm missing the point.
Well, I guess I figured if we could find him...
Are you suggesting that we try and track down his dog?
Well, it's the only clue I got.
He has a German Shepherd.
It's likely he has a license, and if he does,
his owner's address is on it,
which means our killer's address is on it.
Okay. We'll definitely get somebody on that,
but I'm confused.
If you had a dream about the killer,
if you saw the killer...
But I didn't.
It wasn't that kind of dream.
It was more like, I felt what he felt.
It wasn't so much about seeing,
it was... it was more about feeling.
Oh, I'm sorry. I-I...
I'm still not following you.
I don't know... the hacking...
The hack marks in their skin.
He considers that art.
He considers himself an artist.
He thinks what he does to them is beautiful.
And how do you know that?
Because I was in his head; I was him.
And that's what I felt when I looked at her.
But it's my turn.
There are no turns.
It's not about turns-- it's mine,
and you're not getting it.
But you've had the top bunk forever.
That's because it's mine.
Just like the bottom bunk is yours.
-Forever. -Mom!
Bridge, Ariel got here first,
and if she doesn't want to switch,
I'm not gonna make her switch.
But that's not fair!
It's totally fair. It's mine.
And you're not getting it.
( cell phone chiming )
Not until I go to college anyways.
BRIDGETTE: Oh, and when's that gonna be?
In, like, a catrillion years?!
Two catrillion.
Sit down, babe. Hello?
Care to hazard a guess
as to how many Shepherds named Buster have been registered
in Phoenix over the past 15 years?
Uh, ten?
Try 34.
I myself have visited 12 of them this afternoon,
and have yet to come across a single owner
with a mutilated girl on the premises.
Sorry I couldn't give you something more specific.
Uh, it's okay. We all knew it was sort of a Hail Mary.
That said, if you have any new dreams,
anything that might narrow down the search a little...
I know where to find you.
Looking at Busters. Wish me luck.
Luck.
( dog barking in distance )
( crickets chirping )
( dog barking )
SCANLON: Here's what I got.
Guy's got a Shepherd named Buster
who's barking his head off, a pack of filterless smokes
sitting on the front seat of his car
with what looks to me like blood on the wrapper.
Nobody's answering the door.
Am I waiting for a warrant,
or am I convinced, based on the blood I see in the car,
that the owner of the house is bleeding to death
and may need police assistance?
If you have a reasonable fear
that a homeowner may be in dire need
of police assistance, than you have no choice,
Detective Scanlon.
Be sure and call for backup.
( barking continues )
( barking )
( music playing loudly in distance )
( music blaring from record player )
*
( phone ringing )
Hello?
SCANLON ( over phone ): Three guesses where I'm calling from.
Uh... it sounds like a party.
Well, I guess you could call it that.
I'm at Buster's house.
You're kidding.
Nope.
We found the Gilmartin girl-- alive, by the way.
Turns out old Buster shares this place
with a sick twist by the name of Albert Marcotto.
Is he there? Did you catch him?
Caught isn't exactly the right word.
The M.E. is giving him the once-over as we speak.
She thinks he had a coronary sometime last night.
He's dead?
The girl said he went into the bathroom at 11:45,
she heard a crash, he never came out.
You still there?
Yeah, I'm here.
11:45, you're sure about that?
There's a clock over the door.
She could see it from where he was keeping her.
Why?
It's nothing, it's just...
that's around the time that I had the dream.
Well, you can sleep easy tonight.
So can the rest of Phoenix.
Albert Marcotto is a threat no more.
( rock music plays )
Can I get you anything else?
One more whiskey.
I know it's rude to count,
but that'll be your fifth.
You're right, it's rude.
Rough day?
No, it was a good one, actually.
I found someone I was looking for.
Friend or family?
Neither.
And yet it's cause for celebration?
Absolutely.
So are you going to tell me who you found,
or do I have to guess?
If you don't mind me saying,
you have the loveliest skin.
Five shots of whiskey
and I start looking good to a lot of folks.
No, I mean it.
You're going to be beautiful when you're 80.
You know that?
That one's on me.
( cigarette lighter clicks )
Okay, are you sure I can't call you a cab?
Just get me to my car, I'll be fine.
I swear to God.
Okay. This you?
Yeah.
Let's get you there.
Okay.
Okay, that tears it.
Anyone who can't even open their car door
-is officially too drunk to be driving. -( keys clatter )
So, all right,
I'm just going to take these keys,
and we're going to find you another way to get home, okay?
( zapping )
( gasps )
I know I shouldn't take it personally
when you leave our bed in the middle of the night.
I'm sorry.
I just had to look at this.
Of course you did...
it's 3:00 in the morning.
I had a dream about the second killing--
well, the second snatching, really.
Lydia Kyne.
Three days after she disappeared
a homeless man found her body in a Dumpster.
Her face was cut up so badly
they had to use her dental records
to identify her.
Wait a second, I'm confused.
Didn't you say before we went to bed
that they caught the guy who did this?
That he was dead?
So what are you dreaming about?
It's weird.
It's the killings.
Well, two of the three, anyway.
Except, when I see them...
I am him.
I see what he sees.
I feel what he feels.
But now he's gone...
...and it's all over.
Joe, I don't know why I'm being shown these things.
I can't figure out why I'm being made to feel these things.
You know what you need?
( sighs )
Sleep.
Dr. Joe says it's time
to put these gruesome pictures to bed
and get some sleep.
Really, Dr. Joe? That's the answer?
I don't know if you've noticed, honey,
but you've managed to amass here
quite a collection of gruesome ginsu flesh pictures.
You'll see, you'll like it.
You lay down, close your eyes--
you do nothing.
Mark my words--
it's going to be all the rage.
You excited?
No, scared.
You will teach me?
Don't worry, I'm the master.
ALLISON: Who wants salsa with their eggs?
-Me! -Me! -Me!
Do my senses deceive me,
or is my wife actually cooking breakfast?
What, you expect these girls to live on cereal alone?
Yeah, do you?
You get back to sleep last night?
Or did you feel compelled
to dive back into your box of horrors?
The truth?
I laid there for about an hour,
then I watched TV till it was time to wake the girls.
Well, I suppose that's a start.
Thank you for your encouragement, Dr. Joe.
Oh, I was hoping to get my hair done today,
but the only time Elaine can get me is 3:00.
Is there any way you could pick up the girls?
What?
Starting a little early, aren't we?
And since when do you drink whiskey?
I don't.
I thought I was pouring myself some orange juice.
Al...
"Geronimo frozen pizza."
Damn!
( gasps )
Can I help you find something?
Ma'am, are you okay?
I'm fine; I was just looking for Geronimo pizza.
Sure.
We have plenty of those,
right over here.
Thanks.
Thanks, Mindy.
( knocking )
You've been sitting out here for a while.
I thought you were maybe waiting to look at the open apartment.
I'm the manager,
I can show it to you if you want.
No, I'm not here to see an apartment.
You lost or something?
You need directions?
I just...
I lost track of time.
I sorry, no...
I have to go now.
I'm home!
I could use some help with the groceries!
Hey!
( sighs )
Car's full of groceries...
It's 20 past 7:00.
Well, it's getting dark so early,
I guess I lost track of...
BRIDGETTE: Mommy,
the bottom of the bag's all wet.
Must have sat in the car longer than I realized.
You know, I've been calling your cell phone
for almost four hours.
I don't know why I wouldn't have heard it.
I must have shut it off without realizing.
Ariel, can you get the rest of the bags out of the car,
put some stuff away.
Bridgette, watch Marie for a minute.
Mommy and I need to have a talk in the bedroom.
All right, first, tell me you're okay.
I'm okay.
You know, we've had these conversations before
-about consideration, about calling. -I know.
I can't find you, I don't hear from you,
I call the hair salon-- Elaine said that you
never even showed up for your appointment.
No, I know.
No, I don't think you do know.
For all your empathy, for all your sensitivity,
I don't think you know what it's like to sit here
with the girls from 3:00 on and not be able
to answer the question "Where's Mommy?"
No, I do, and I am sorry.
( sniffing )
Have you been smoking?
Allison, what the hell is going on?
I don't know.
I-I went to the supermarket.
I saw this girl.
-What?! -She was perfect.
Just the sort of girl that Marcotto would go for.
Marcotto?!
What does this have to do with Marcotto?
These girls, to him, they're like canvases.
These blank spaces just waiting
to be turned into these beautiful works of art.
He, he likes their fresh skin,
the way that they're kind of innocent-looking,
not a lot of makeup.
I noticed that her name was Mindy,
that she worked there.
When I looked at her, when I was close to her,
I felt like I had found exactly what I was looking for.
And I couldn't let her get away.
Sorry, Allison, why do you keep saying "I"?
You weren't looking for anybody.
But it's like I was.
So... I hung around.
I waited for her to shift to end and I followed her.
I followed her home.
I sat there, my car full of groceries,
and I lit up Marcotto's
favorite brand of cigarettes, and I... I watched her.
I watched her for hours.
You stalked her?
( sighs )
You didn't hurt her, you didn't touch her,
you didn't confront her in any way, right?
Allison, I'm baffled. Why?
I mean, why would you do something like that?
I'm not sure.
These dreams that I've been having lately,
I just assumed they were coming from some victim,
Someone who wanted me to catch him,
put an end to what he was doing.
But now... I'm pretty sure they're coming from him.
I think he's trying to tell me something.
I-I just don't know what it is.
Maybe he's not trying to tell you anything.
Maybe he's trying to get you to do something.
No!
Uh-uh, that's not what it felt like.
I suddenly became very interested in that girl,
and it was overwhelming, and it was creepy,
but I was me the whole time.
I knew it was wrong.
I knew I was late.
I knew I should call.
I'm not channeling this guy,
and I'm sure as hell not gonna start killing for him.
Yeah, but you started smoking for him.
No, I smoked in college.
It's in my history.
It's something that I would do.
Cutting people up, killing people-- no.
Well, I'm glad you're so certain.
I'll have Ariel call, see if she can stay over at Hannah's.
Maybe Alan and Kendall can take Bridgette and Marie.
We can drive them there, then I'll pick them up,
take them to school in the morning.
What? Why?
Why?
Allison... did you hear yourself?
You just confessed to me you spent the last several hours
driving around the city, looking for innocent flesh to carve up.
There's no way in hell I'm letting our girls
stay in this house while you've got this guy in your head.
But, Joe.
But nothing.
I love you, but, frankly,
you're scaring the crap out of me.
I'm sorry.
Just let me make some calls, get them started packing.
I'll send them in there to say good-bye.
Meantime, maybe you can wash that smell off.
( sighs )
Kids are all fine.
I know you have no control over what's going on.
I don't blame you.
Are you coming to bed?
*
I want to discuss something important with you.
I want to discuss your legacy.
( woman whimpers )
( whimpering )
The first line of your obituary.
( grunts )
The summation of your life.
That's really what we're doing here.
We're giving your life some kind of lasting meaning.
( grunts )
I can tell from your expression you're skeptical.
But you shouldn't be.
It's been several hundred years, but everyone still remembers
The Girl with the Pearl Earrings,
Christina from Christina's World...
( grunts )
...Lisa from the Mona Lisa.
( grunting )
Great art is like that; it lives forever.
And its subjects... live forever.
( sobbing )
This will only hurt for a minute.
( sobbing continues )
( screaming )
( scream echoes )
You've got to stop this.
I had another dream.
I skipped over the third victim.
What?!
For God's sake, Allison, it's the middle of the night!
The killer is dead, the crime spree is over.
Don't you see? He skipped over the third victim.
The third victim, Julie Paxon.
He skipped right over her.
And had showed me the fourth girl, Patricia Gilmartin,
the one we saved.
-( sighs ) -I think I know why
he showed me that girl in the supermarket.
He wants me to understand what he likes,
what he looks for when he chooses them,
so that when I saw a counterfeit, I would know.
A what? A counterfeit?
I don't understand.
Julie Paxon.
Her complexion's too dark.
She wears too much makeup-- she looks cheap.
He would never choose her, never in a million years.
That's why I skipped over her,
That's why I didn't dream about her murder.
Marcotto couldn't send it to me, 'cause he didn't do it.
That's the message, Joe.
That's what he's been trying to tell me.
He didn't kill this woman.
Someone else did.
He's offended?
I believe so, yes.
Albert Marcotto took his "art" very seriously.
When we attributed Julie Paxon's murder to him,
I think he took offense.
I think he finds it insulting,
which is why he's been sending me these dreams,
so we could help restore his "reputation."
Well, you'll forgive me if I don't lose a lot of sleep
worrying about the feelings of a dead sociopath.
That's not the point.
Then what is?
Allison, the inclusion of Julie Paxon
in Albert Marcotto's body count was hardly done arbitrarily.
He was blamed for her death because she was murdered
in precisely the same horrific manner as his other two victims.
Nevertheless, I think we made a mistake.
You saw the bodies.
You saw how they were violated.
It takes a unique capacity for cruelty
to do that to another human being.
Wouldn't you agree?
Unique, yes.
Impossible to duplicate, no.
What are you saying? You think we got
some sort of copycat killer on the loose?
Well, maybe, or maybe it was someone
who only intended to commit one murder: Julie Paxon's;
someone who carved her up to look like Marcotto's handiwork,
so we wouldn't even consider another suspect.
Someone's mimicking our serial killer so precisely
they even include the little details
that we deliberately withheld from the press?
The geometric wound patterns?
The red twine in the ligature marks?
Cops talk to their spouses.
Spouses talk to their friends.
The wrong person could've gotten these details
any number of ways.
All I know is I've been in this guy's head
for a few days, or he's been in mine.
I've come to know his preferences.
I know his taste.
Julie Paxon isn't it.
She's not his type.
She's too done.
It would be like painting on a used canvas.
Allison, look at this from my side.
The case is closed, the crime spree is over.
What possible incentive...
SCANLON: For argument's sake...
on the off-chance there might actually be
another killer out there,
what would it take to get you to open
a new investigation into Julie Paxon's murder?
Short of having another body show up?
Bring me something more than a bad dream.
Bring me proof-- then maybe I'll consider it.
ALLISON: So, in your professional opinion,
there was nothing different about Julie Paxon,
nothing that made her stand out from the first two victims?
She was young, female, pretty.
I guess what I'm asking is was there anything
forensically different about her?
Maybe she was cut by something other than a scalpel,
or maybe there's some way to tell if the cuts
were made by a left-handed person
instead of a right-handed one.
All of the incisions on all three women were identical.
They were done with a cutting instrument
that featured a blade no longer than six centimeters--
I'm guessing some kind of scalpel.
And as far as I can tell,
they were all made by a right-handed cutter.
So you're certain this was all the work of the same man.
Why? Was there ever any question?
We're just trying to be thorough.
Well... then today's your lucky day.
This just came in from the DNA lab.
It confirms that a piece of skin
we found under one of Ms. Paxon's fingernails
belonged to Albert Marcotto.
She scratched him.
Apparently.
Hello, I'm home.
-Hey. -Hey.
They're not here?
They're not back?
They were, but...
But what?
I want my kids back!
Now!
No.
Not just yet.
What is this?
It's yours.
Or at least you wrote it.
I found it with all the other evidence in this box.
I thought maybe I could help.
I figured I'd take a look in here, see if I could get
a better handle on what it is that you're going through.
But then I saw that,
and I figured out I was in way over my head.
And frankly, so are you.
I don't understand.
What is this?
I don't know. You tell me.
That's the pad you were writing in last night.
I didn't write this.
I was writing notes, theories about this case.
Well, it goes on for nine pages, Al, all in your handwriting.
No notes, no theories, just "It was me"
over and over and over again.
Doesn't... make any sense.
I don't remember.
That's all the more reason to
keep the girls away for one more night.
It's just one more night.
I'm sorry.
I know it's hard.
I know you don't choose to have this guy in your head.
He's a bastard.
He's scaring you, he's scaring me.
I feel like an ass.
I spent the whole day defending him.
Now even he said he did it.
The medical examiner found
his DNA under her fingernails-- Julie Paxon's.
( sighs )
You've given this animal enough of your nights.
It's time you took one for yourself.
( cheering, whooping )
Ladies and gentlemen, place your bets.
500 on the pass.
25 on the yellow, three, four hopping.
Same shooter.
Lucky shooter.
Seven winner!
( cheering )
Well, looks like it's my walking-away time.
Feel like you're cooling off?
Nope, I'm just getting started.
I'm gonna put it all on my Arizona boys to take UCLA.
You better hurry up.
They tip off in about 15 minutes.
There you go...
$10,000 right there.
And 25.
Think I'll keep this one for luck.
( laughs )
( gasps )
( clears throat )
JOE: You all right?
No, I'm better than all right.
I'm great.
I had a dream... starring me, and I didn't kill anybody.
Mm... Hallelujah.
I won a bunch of money playing craps.
I bet $500 on the pass line and it paid off.
Wait a second.
You laid $500 on the pass line?
Mm-hmm.
Since when do you know how to play craps?
Since last night, I guess.
It was fun.
We should go to Las Vegas.
What?
You told me to dream about anything other than Marcotto.
It's not my fault my brain picked Sin City.
Al, in the 13 years we've been married,
the only time I've ever seen you roll dice is when
we're playing Chutes and Ladders with the girls.
And now, suddenly, you're an expert?
Which sort of begs the question:
Was it your vacation you dreamt about
or was it someone else's?
Remind me again what we're doing here.
ALLISON: It's a crazy long shot,
but I think Marcotto wants me
to help him establish an alibi.
I had another dream last night.
Took me awhile to figure it out, but I think I was playing
his part again.
I was in Las Vegas, and I was putting a bet down
on a basketball game between UCLA and Arizona.
Hope you bet on the Bruins.
That game was a blowout.
Come to Mama.
I checked the dates.
The only time those two teams played was November 24,
which is the day that Julie Paxon
was kidnapped and murdered.
So if my hunch is correct,
Marcotto was in Las Vegas the night that she was killed.
Jackpot.
Uh... bad time?
Good time.
Thank you.
Okay, well, long story short:
We have reason to believe that Albert Marcotto was in a casino
in Las Vegas the night that Julie Paxon was murdered.
So the District Attorney's office was wondering
about the possibility of you retesting the DNA
that you found under her fingernails.
I'm sorry, to what end?
Well, clearly, Marcotto couldn't have been in two places at once.
So if we can verify that he was in Nevada
the night that Julie Paxon was killed, then we have to assume
that the DNA results were a function of some kind of...
-error. -Error?
I don't know.
Maybe someone accidentally mislabeled the samples.
Or maybe it was contaminated
by a sample from one of the other victims.
No.
That's simply not possible.
I'm the only one who had access to Ms. Paxon's remains.
And I can assure you, they were handled with the utmost regard
for limiting the possibility
of molecular degradation or cellular contamination.
But if the District Attorney wants us to run them again,
I'll run them again.
SCANLON: The M.E.'s giving him the once-over as we speak.
She thinks he had a coronary sometime last night.
M.E. is another way of saying medical examiner, right?
Right you are.
The thing is, we don't want to retest the old DNA.
We want to get a new sample from under Julie's fingernails.
Okay.
And we're gonna request that someone else do it.
Are you married?
Yes.
Yes, I am.
Me, too.
19 years, if you can believe it.
Has your husband ever been unfaithful?
No.
They say the death of a loved one...
is the most painful loss
any of us will ever know.
But they would be wrong.
Knowing they're gone because they chose to be gone,
knowing they're alive and well and much happier
with someone else...
...that's what hurts the most.
He was gonna leave me for...
Julie Paxon.
After 19 years.
I went to see her at her house...
to ask her to respect what my husband and I had together;
to remind her... that we were a family.
She thought that was a very funny...
a very old-fashioned idea.
You'd be surprised how hard it was cutting her that way...
...even for someone in my line of work.
So what do we do now?
DEVALOS: She didn't even ask for an attorney.
Just walked right into his office
and said she wanted to confess everything.
Guess she figured it was just a matter of time
before we could prove that she tampered with the DNA evidence.
No, I don't think that's it.
I think it was killing her, not just knowing that she'd done it,
but knowing that she'd gotten away with it.
I think she feels relieved.
Do you think Marcotto comprehends
that he might have done a good thing;
that he helped us catch a killer?
I don't think Marcotto cares, not about that.
This was about him, his ego, some sick sort of pride.
Well, tell him thanks, just the same.
You can tell him yourself, 'cause I'm done giving out
visitor passes to my head.
I really just want to go home
and spend some time with my family, spend some time with me.
JOE: This is nice.
This is good.
ARIEL: Yeah, Mommy, this is good.
I'm glad we're all together.
Yeah, Mommy, we don't like it when we're not all together.
Mom? Mom?!