Previously on Dexter...
Our primary suspect is Sergeant James Doakes.
Doakes?
He is not your man.
I think the Bay Harbor Butcher is alive
and still in Miami.
Doakes was the Bay Harbor Butcher, end of story.
I found a blood slide at a crime scene
exactly like the ones we found in Doakes' car,
and Doakes never had a boat.
Here is a list of Miami Metro personnel who still do.
Its point of origin--
front center mass burned upward, downward.
Can we close the doors?
This void, it's the same thing
that happened with the first car victim.
"Bobby"?
Maybe the victim was letting us know who did this.
You fucked my girl?
You know, you could learn a thing or two from her.
She takes her job very seriously.
Have you always been this afraid of the water?
Ever since my father thought
that the best way to teach me how to swim
was to march me down to the local pond
and throw me in.
That's horrible.
Six years old, and I already knew
what it felt like to be dying.
Look, I think you have the wrong idea.
Shut up. I know who you are.
I know what you are.
Dexter, you don't have to save her.
You shouldn't even be with her.
It's not even like you will have a fucking future.
All I know is that, when I'm with you, I feel...
safe.
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com
I saw him, and he was coming through the flames.
He was wearing a silver-colored suit.
That's our phantom arsonist.
- He looked like an alien. - Or a monster.
I swear, he was 7 feet tall.
Monsters, aliens, phantoms--
none of them are real.
The thought that an actual person
could do this is too awful,
so our imaginations create a way to make it easier to take.
But even the strongest of imaginations
can't protect us once we know the truth.
I called you last night.
I wanted to go over the facts of the case.
We can go over them now.
Where were you?
Oh. You were with Hannah.
Find anything? DNA? Prints?
Nope, nada, zip.
Same accelerant as the other four fires, though--
kerosene.
And he left another "Bobby" scribbled in the soot.
Fuck, that's five "Bobby"s in two weeks.
I mean, he's gotta be signing his name, right?
I mean, it's the only thing that makes sense.
None of the victims were named Bobby,
but, I mean, fuckload of good that does us.
There are thousands of Bobs and Roberts in Miami.
What do we know about the latest victim?
Mom took her daughter to the bathroom.
They both went up in smoke.
Kid was six years old.
What kind of sick fuck
does that to a six-year-old kid?
Maybe the kind who isn't bothered
by the sight of a dead child.
- Hey. - Hey.
How you feeling? You get your stitches out?
Yeah, I'm going to have a really sexy scar.
How was your day?
It was fine.
You don't sound fine.
The Phantom started another fire today.
It killed a mother and child.
What?
Why do I get the feeling
you want to wrap him up in plastic?
Doesn't matter.
I promised Deb I wouldn't take any cases from the police.
Well, if you always listened to Deb,
you wouldn't be here with me.
I can't kill him, okay?
Okay, fine.
Sorry.
I'm just frustrated.
As much as I want to be here with you,
my Dark Passenger really wants to be somewhere else.
I'm sorry. Your Dark what?
My Dark Passenger.
That's what I call my need to kill.
Why?
Because it's like this thing living inside me,
telling me what to do, saying I have to kill,
not leaving me any choice.
You're not a puppet. Of course you have a choice.
Actually, I don't.
Come on, Dex.
It's just you.
You're the one who wants the arsonist dead.
And I don't blame you. Who wouldn't?
- It's not the same. - Well, what do you mean?
Ignore that.
I-I want to understand this.
How is it different?
'Cause a lot of people feel like they want to kill somebody,
but I have to follow through.
I follow through, and I don't have
a...Dark Passenger.
You don't get it.
I'm trying to.
But, no, I don't get it.
There's a man in the window.
What?
- Hi, Banana! - Oh, my God.
That's my dad.
I'm sorry if I surprised you.
I didn't even know Hannah had a boyfriend.
I don't know why you would.
I haven't spoken to you since--
Go ahead and say it.
Since before I went to prison.
Clint McKay, convicted felon. Nice to meet you.
No need to get nervous.
I was just in for check kiting,
and I got out early on good behavior.
Dad, what are you doing here?
Well, let me just get to the point.
I don't know what Hannah's told you about me.
Uh, not a lot.
Just that you almost let her drown.
Well, the truth is,
I was real, genuine asshole of a father.
And I needed to admit that to you in person.
Dad, can we please not do this in front of Dexter?
No, if you two are together,
then I-I want him to hear this.
I spent a lot of time with a prison shrink,
working through my issues.
He said it's important to take responsibility,
so that's what I'm here to do.
Okay.
Now, I don't expect you to forgive me.
I don't see any reason that you should,
not after everything I put you through.
But it's important you know,
no matter what,
I always loved you.
I always will.
I've got something for you in my truck.
Let me give it to you, and I'll be on my way.
Surprise.
It's your dollhouse,
repainted and rebuilt.
It was in your Aunt Cindy's garage.
I figured you loved it so much as a kid,
you might like to have it now.
Uh, Dex, give me a hand?
Well,
I guess I'll be on my way, let you two
get back to your dinner.
There's a diner at the Purple Flamingo,
where I'm staying.
They say they make a pretty decent burger.
Okay.
I guess I'll see you around then.
Nice to meet you, Dexter.
You look good, Banana, happy.
Glad to see you're doing okay.
I'm sure he meant well,
but he could not have given me a worse gift.
Brings up so much shit.
What kind of shit?
When I was eight, he took me to a poker tournament,
lied to my mom and said that we were going to a county fair,
and stashed me in a motel room.
Went to play cards and didn't come back for three days.
That's awful.
When he came back, he brought the dollhouse,
bragging about a big win,
saying that he'd never leave me again,
and making promises that things would get better.
- And did they? - No.
Of course not.
I don't know. I'm--
He's trying, right? Maybe--
maybe this last stint in lockup did him some good.
Yeah, maybe.
Most likely, we're looking
for a male suspect.
Egocentric, manipulative,
possibly in or on the outskirts of law enforcement.
He's methodical.
Fastidious in his appearance, poor social skills--
this list is by no means comprehensive.
But it should give you a pretty good idea
of what we're looking at.
Bosso's profile of the Phantom--
he may as well be describing himself.
An arsonist who works for the fire department.
It's almost too easy.
What else?
Hands-on learner, prone to self-aggrandizement.
Thank you, investigator Bosso.
Where are we on tracking the fireproof suit?
Oh, there's at least 100 sites that sell that on the Internet.
Almost impossible to trace.
Are you guys still interviewing witnesses?
Yeah, but nobody's seen the guy's face.
We got more people coming in today though.
Let me know what you find out.
Simms, Miller, any leads from the tip line?
None so far.
Mostly girlfriends trying to get back at their exes.
All right. Keep at it.
Maybe something will come through.
In the meantime, this fuck has killed
seven people in two weeks.
Let's stop him before he makes it to number eight.
Hannah's wrong.
Of course I have a Dark Passenger.
There's no other way to explain this compulsion.
I hope she knows what she's doing.
Who's sending you hugs and kisses?
No one.
Bullshit. That was a girl.
Was she sexting you? You got pictures?
Come on, I gotta restock my spank bank.
Hey, angel, do you know anything about Dexter's new girlfriend?
- Who, Hannah McKay? - How did you--
Jamie told me.
Ahh, my man.
Hannah McKay!
Yeah, that is so awesome.
Excuse me, but what is so fucking awesome
about my brother dating a killer?
You guys heard Sal Price's recording.
Hannah confessed to murder.
Oh, come on, she was only 15 when she did that.
I mean, when I was 15, my parents still thought
I was retarded.
Hey, hey.
I get it.
Hannah is an attractive girl.
But you should probably be careful.
Yeah, you--you should definitely be careful
of getting burned because she's so freaking hot.
Can I see you in my office, please?
I didn't realize
you and Hannah McKay had gone public.
We hadn't, until a minute ago.
Well, that's kind of dangerous.
Don't you think?
Dating someone so notorious out in the open like that,
when you're trying to stay under the radar.
Deb, I really don't want to talk about Hannah right now.
Can you just leave it?
Fine, yeah. I'll butt out.
I mean, we're all responsible adults, right?
You live your life, I'll live mine,
and Hannah will live Hannah's.
Great. And you'll leave Hannah alone?
I'm saying that I'll stay out of your relationship.
I'm not going to let that woman get away with murder again.
That's not what I meant.
Dexter, I am fucking serious.
I have compromised the shit out of myself for you.
I am sure as fuck not going to do it for Hannah McKay.
Fine. I get it.
Why are you standing here?
We have a Phantom to catch.
She did say "we."
Philip Bosso.
In his last 27 arson investigations,
he found the fire's origin point.
Either he's great at his job,
or all he had to do was look in the mirror.
Okay, it says here
that you work as a janitor at the Y in Brickell Bay
where the, uh, Phantom set the first fire.
Mm-hmm.
Did you see anything suspicious
when you were making your rounds that night?
No, I didn't even know it happened
until I saw the fire truck.
It was horrible.
Right. Right, right, right.
And did you see anyone in a fireproof suit?
Don't you think I would've told you if I had?
Bosso's S.U.V.
But where did he go?
Is he about to strike again?
Electric fuses and camping fuel.
What are you doing here?
That's not a fireproof suit.
Dexter, you a Civil War reenactor too?
You here for the battle?
Uh--
Yeah.
Which side you fighting for?
The North.
You blue belly.
I should buck and gag you right here.
Were you there last weekend
at the sixth Maine battery cannon firings?
No, damn. I guess I missed that one.
It's a whole weekend affair.
I was in charge of special effects--
ground, air bursts, artillery fire.
Which explains what's in his car
and gives him an alibi for Saturday's fire.
- Want to see some pictures? - You bet.
Wow.
Bosso's not the Phantom. He's just strange.
But if he didn't set those fires, then who did?
Oh.
Hang on just one sec.
I guess coffee went better than expected.
After coffee, Hannah wanted to show me the flower mart.
So we're walking around,
and I catch a whiff of this flower.
It smells just like licorice.
So I ask Hannah what it is--
And I tell him it's anise.
So I tell the lady in the booth
that her anise smells delicious.
Except you didn't quite pronounce it right.
I don't know exactly what I said,
but she did not react well.
Well, do you blame her?
Sounds like you had quite a day.
Yeah, uh-- we, uh, we really did.
So, Clint, how long are you going to be in town?
Oh, just another day or so.
And then I'm off to Louisiana.
Oh, uh, what's in Louisiana?
A poker tournament?
No. I am all done with that.
I am looking for an honest way to make a living.
And I think I found the perfect thing.
You ready?
- Crawfish. - Crawfish?
Yeah, a crawfish farm.
I got a line on one near Lafayette.
I'm going to call it "Big Clint's Crawdaddies,"
and I will ship 'em to you fresh
anywhere in the country.
There's a market for that?
You bet your balls there is.
Ain't nothing like a crawfish boil--
weddings, bachelor parties, Fourth of July.
Everybody likes crawdads.
Well, I am excited for you, dad.
And I'm proud of you.
Well, thank you, honey. Means a lot.
Well, I'll tell you what.
Why don't you check out of that motel
and come and stay with me while you’re here?
You're starting a new business.
You're going to need to save your money now.
No, no, no, no. I couldn't do that.
I-I wouldn't want to intrude.
- Oh, you're not. - Yeah, don't worry.
I was going home tonight anyway.
Why don't I bring you guys breakfast in the morning?
Best doughnuts you ever tasted.
Okay.
Aah! Aah! Oh!
Aah!
What the hell are you doing, man?
Get out of here.
Mmm. Mmm.
Man, it's like I died and went to heaven.
I think if I had one more of those,
I probably will.
I'd like to make an orange juice toast
to the cutest damn couple I have ever seen--
outside of me and Bubba in prison.
That's just a little joke.
Right.
Well, to you, dad,
the king of crawfish.
There's no stopping me.
I just gotta get the money together.
So where are you at with that?
Well, actually,
that's something I wanted to talk to you about.
I figured you might like to get in on the ground floor.
- What do you mean? - Well, you know, invest.
I only need about 20 grand more.
Oh, wow.
No, it's a great opportunity.
I mean, there's a guaranteed 10% a year back
on your investment.
I'm sorry, dad. I-I can't.
All my money's tied up in the business.
Aw, come on, now. Not all your money.
I mean, there's got to be a little wiggle room
in there somewhere.
I'm sure you could remortgage your place.
I don't think so.
No, this place has got to be worth a pretty penny.
Dad, it's not going to happen.
Well, fine. Whatever.
Forget it.
I'm sorry. I just don't have the funds.
What kind of daughter
won't even help out her own fucking father?
Jesus, dad.
Look, I need some air. I'm going to go for a drive.
Dad, you don't have to go.
You think I was wrong,
telling him I couldn't give him the money?
Of course not.
But I feel like I should help him out.
Why?
Because he's my dad.
The same dad who almost let you drown?
Who left you alone in a hotel for three days?
He's trying to change.
I doubt it.
Look, I know he's done some bad things,
but there's good inside of him, as well.
Oh, right, you've known him for, what,
24 hours, and you think you understand him?
Well, I have a sense for this sort of thing.
Oh, yeah, you and your Dark--
whatever-- part of you.
That you don't think exists.
Because it doesn't.
I gotta go to work. It's the arsonist again.
Look, I'm just trying to help here.
I know. I know.
I appreciate it. I'm sorry.
I'll be fine. Go.
Okay.
Another "Bobby."
"It's Bobby." He added an "It's."
Like we didn't know it was Bobby.
Make sure you get this.
Did you see Bosso?
He was sniffing the body.
Probably for accelerant.
Still, it was kind of creepy, right?
I mean, I know it would be the biggest cliche in the world,
the arson investigator turned out to be the arsonist,
but does he--
does he set off anything in your lizard brain?
I don't think Bosso's the Phantom.
- He has an alibi. - You vetted him?
I looked into him.
You said you weren't going to take
any more cases from the police.
- I didn't take it. - Fuck, Dexter.
Why would you put yourself in that situation?
Good question. Why did I?
Hey, L.T.
We got the security camera.
I'm going to take the hard drive back down to the station
and see if we can get eyes on the Phantom.
Good. We could use a break.
Hey, Hannah.
Wait, hold on. Slow down.
What happened?
I'll be right there.
What happened?
I-I came back from the flower mart,
and it was like this.
Oops.
Well, I had a couple of drinks to take the edge off,
but I guess I might have overdone it a little.
You did this to get back at me
for not giving you the money that you wanted.
Oh, talk about paranoid.
But then, maybe you've got reason to be.
Must be a whole lot of folks hate you
for all the pain you've caused.
How can you even say that to me?
Playing mother nature in here
with your stupid, little flowers,
won't even help out your own fucking father!
Because I don't want to help you!
You got any idea what it's like
to be the father of the infamous Hannah McKay?
You're a goddamn curse, you ungrateful little shit!
That's enough, Clint.
You stay out of this. This is family business.
You know you killed your mother, don't you?
She died of a broken heart
after your spree with Wayne Randall.
I'm sorry.
Everybody would have been a lot better off
if I'd let you drown
that day at the pond.
Get out of here.
Now.
Fine.
I said what I had to say.
Well, it looks like Hannah's found herself another winner.
You two deserve each other.
I can cut a body up into pieces,
but how do I help Hannah put herself back together?
Could you have picked more of a dump?
Come on, Maria.
It's perfect for all this cloak and dagger bullshit.
It's the kind of place you take hookers and ugly broads.
And also, nobody sees you.
You should know, I followed up
on all the names you identified on my list.
Yes, the list of suspicious police employees
who own boats.
Yes. They were all dead ends.
All except for Dexter Morgan,
who conveniently moved his boat
right when we were closing in on his marina
during the official Bay Harbor Butcher investigation.
You really think Dexter is the Bay Harbor Butcher?
It's worth looking into.
No, it's a waste of time.
Now, look, you have to start thinking logically.
If Doakes really wasn't the Bay Harbor Butcher,
then that means that somebody probably framed him.
Right.
Which means that same person probably killed him,
most likely the real Bay Harbor Butcher.
So the best thing to do is to look
into Doakes' final days.
We should start with the cabin in the Everglades.
Where Doakes died.
Makes sense. First let's eat.
- Okay. - Waiter.
Oh, wow.
You went all out.
Well, you had a rough night.
I figured you could use a pick-me-up.
Sit.
You were right about my dad.
I'm sorry I was.
I just-- I feel like such a sucker.
You know, I don't fall for anybody's bullshit,
but when it comes to him, I--
I get it. Fathers can be complicated.
I just don't understand why I keep holding on to this idea
that, underneath it all, he's a good person.
Maybe because the idea that he's not
is just too hard to take.
Well, I just hope he's gone for good.
You sure scared the shit out of him.
That voice--
I hadn't seen that look on your face
since you took me to see the snow.
Is that what you were talking about?
Your Dark...Rider?
Dark Passenger.
Okay, fine.
It sounds a little silly when you say it out loud.
No, I-I get what you mean, you know.
You do seem like a different person,
so it makes sense that you would name that part of yourself.
Does it just take over?
Where do you go?
Does Dexter Morgan just disappear?
No, I'm still there.
Do you hear a voice, or--
Not exactly.
It's more like a need.
So it's just like a feeling.
Well, I should get to work.
Unless you need me to--
No, I'm good. I got pancakes.
Okay, the good news is that we have
the Phantom entering the bus.
The bad news is that he never shows his face.
My promise to Deb is getting harder and harder to keep.
This is more than just a feeling.
There's no way to I.D. him?
I didn't say that.
Right there.
He grabs a rail bare-handed. We might have a print.
Halle-fucking-lujah.
Pull the fucking print off the rail,
and we might get lucky and get a match.
All right. Let's go, bro.
Hey, baby. What's up?
What? Whoa, whoa.
Motherfuck. I'll be right there.
What's wrong?
Fucking Novikov's sending Nadia
to work at a sex club in Dubai.
He's holding her at the Fox Hole.
I gotta get her out of there.
- You're going alone? - I got no choice.
He's putting her on a flight tonight.
You're going to need backup. Let's go.
Where do you think you're going?
I'm here to see George.
Why don't you stay here?
Hmm?
Well, well, if it isn't Sir Lancelot.
- Where's Nadia? - Nadia?
Let me go get her for you.
She's got something to tell you.
Get over here.
All right, tell your boyfriend who you belong to.
Let her go.
- Tell him. - Fuck you.
You touch her a-fucking-gain, you're dead.
Oh, what are you going to do, Mr. Policeman?
You're going to shoot me in my own club?
Fuck.
Don't move.
Nadia, get behind George's body.
I want you to take this gun, Nadia--
I want you to shoot me in the arm.
Okay, sweetie?
It's okay.
Shoot me in the arm.
What the hell-- Are you okay?
I'm fine. He pulled a gun and shot me.
I had no fucking choice. He just grazed me.
- Christ. - Go to the safe.
Get your passport and the money and go.
What? She's a witness.
I'm not going to let her take that money.
She's earned it. She can't be a witness.
The Koshkas will kill her.
And she's here illegally.
I'm sorry.
It's okay. Go, go, now.
So did you find a match?
We'll see.
I'm running the Phantom's prints through A.F.I.S. now.
- Nothing. - Fuck me.
So what now?
You hand the whole thing over to me
and let me take care of it my way?
I can't stop thinking about this "Bobby" thing.
You know, that somehow, that's the key.
It's a kid's name. Nobody calls an adult Bobby.
He wrote "It's Bobby" on the bus.
Sounds like Astor and Cody, blaming each other.
"It's Astor." "It's Cody."
You think the fires have something to do
with his childhood?
Could be.
Maybe his urges started back then.
I wish we could run that print against the juvie records,
but that shit's sealed.
Back to square one.
Not for me.
Government workers never miss a break.
There's your Phantom.
Arrested for burning down his school's gym at age 12.
Spent some time in detention, set his roommate's bunk on fire.
Got sent to a psychiatric facility in 2006.
That explains why the fires only just started now.
You going to turn that over to Deb?
Call it in on the tip line?
I'm not sure I can.
Deb was right.
Now that I have proof, my urges are beyond my control.
Your Dark Passenger.
Where did you come up with that, anyway?
I thought I got it from you.
I gave you the code.
The Dark Passenger was all yours.
You said it got into me too early,
in that shipping container.
Like you thought I was possessed.
I meant you were traumatized, Dexter.
Not possessed.
I remember the first time you said it.
You must have been about 12.
I just let it go.
I couldn't let you blame yourself for feelings
that were too complicated for a young boy to understand.
But you're not a boy anymore.
- You sound like Hannah. - Maybe she's right.
Maybe the Dark Passenger is just a feeling.
- It can't be. - Why?
Because if there's no Dark Passenger,
then I'm responsible for everything I've done.
It sure is a whole lot simpler to just pin all the blame
on something else, isn't it, Dexter?
It's much scarier to think
that the Dark Passenger is no more real than I am.
This is where the cabin used to be.
Yeah, before it got blown to smithereens.
Juan Alonso?
I'm captain Maria LaGuerta from Miami Metro Homicide.
This is Thomas Matthews.
What do you want?
Were you the owner of this property back in 2007?
And did you rent it, at that time,
to a James Doakes?
The Bay Harbor Butcher.
No, no, no, no, no.
I told the cops back then, I had nothing to do with that.
Then how did Mr. Doakes come to be staying here?
I was renting the place to Santos Jimenez.
Jimenez?
Some kind of Colombian drug guy.
Not that I knew it at the time.
I would never rent to a criminal.
Of course not.
Now, why does that sound so familiar?
Now I know why the name Santos Jimenez rang a bell.
He wasn't just a drug runner.
He was one of the three men responsible
for killing Dexter Morgan's biological mother, Laura Moser.
- Moser? - Yeah.
Some drug lord put a hit out on her
because he found out that she was Harry Morgan's C.I.
She was butchered by Jimenez with a chain saw
right in front of Dexter and his brother Brian.
Brian Moser?
The Ice Truck Killer, that was Dexter's brother?
Yeah.
So that means that Dexter
watched his mother get chopped up,
just like the Bay Harbor Butcher chopped up his victims?
So what are you saying?
Where's Jimenez now?
He disappeared.
Murdered by the Bay Harbor Butcher?
Maybe.
So who was more likely to want Jimenez dead,
Doakes or Dexter?
- Oh, come on, Maria. - No, Tom.
We can't ignore the facts.
The Bay Harbor Butcher took blood slides from his victims.
Dexter is a blood spatter analyst.
And Doakes always thought
there was something off about Dexter.
What if Doakes was on to him?
Jesus.
What if Dexter is the real Bay Harbor Butcher?
What if he isn't?
I am going to go question him.
No, no, no. You're not going to do that.
Now, I don't think you're right about this.
Trust me, I hope I'm not.
If somebody's got to talk to Dexter,
it's going to be me.
I've known him since he was a kid.
He trusts me.
What's more, I'm a lot less likely to fuck it up.
The only thing that stands between me
and killing the Phantom
is a slightly deflated water wing.
You sure we can't talk you into coming for a swim?
Yeah, I'd love to,
but I got something I gotta take care of.
Here, put your hand through there.
Boom.
Do this one too.
There you go.
Well, well. Who's this big fella?
That's my son, Harrison.
Harrison. Isn't that fancy?
And who are you?
I'm Jamie, Harrison's nanny.
Boy.
They didn't have nannies like you back in my day.
We're going to go swimming now.
You ready? Ready, little man?
Mm-hmm. Yeah.
Whoo.
Boy, the way they coddle kids today.
You know, they're all going to be expecting a helping hand.
The world isn't like that.
It's sink or swim, sonny boy.
Have fun.
What do you want?
Well, Dexter, I can tell that you care about my daughter.
I'm just here to find out how much.
Get to the point.
I have some information
that could be very damaging to Hannah.
Now, I could give
this information to the police,
or you could pay me a nice, tidy sum
to keep it to myself.
What are you talking about?
When Hannah got out of juvie,
she killed a counselor at a halfway house.
She fed him rat poison.
Her roommate, little gal named Arlene Shram,
saw her do it with her own two eyes.
I figured the cops could get her to spill her guts.
You're lying.
I read Sal Price's book on Hannah.
He mentioned the counselor but nothing about the roommate.
Because I hadn't told him about it yet.
What?
Where do you think he was getting
all those juicy, little plums?
Price was paying me to dish dirt on my daughter.
But I was saving the good stuff for a bigger payday.
Then the son of a bitch went belly-up,
and...pfft. There went my meal ticket.
You'd sell your own daughter out
for a crawfish farm?
Fuck crawfish, man.
I'm up to my ears in gambling debt.
But you do what you gotta do.
So you going to give me my money,
or do I send Hannah to jail?
Get out of here before you see my bad side.
You might want to ask Hannah about Arlene
before you come to a final decision.
Then we'll talk numbers.
What exactly were you doing here?
It was a personal matter.
My girlfriend works at the club.
Jesus, Quinn.
I came here to talk to Novikov about Nadia.
The conversation got heated.
He pulled out a gun and shot me.
I returned fire. Self-defense.
Plain and simple.
Well, write up a report.
I want it on my desk in the morning.
There's a little problem with your story.
There was a time lag between the first shot and the second.
I want the truth.
I told you the truth.
I went down when George shot me.
He started to beat the shit out of Nadia.
I reached for my gun.
He wheeled around, ready to blow my head off,
and I took him out.
That's what happened.
Okay. Then we'll go with that.
Minus Nadia.
Hey. Where's Dexter?
I don't know.
But I'd like to point out the fact
that I am here, doing my duty.
- What? - Nothing.
I feel like I'm going to be sick.
How can that be my own father?
I'm sorry to have to tell you all this,
but I needed to know that he was telling the truth.
Arlene Shram is the only person
who can put me in jail.
She saw me put poison in that counselor's food.
I'm going to have to pay him.
That's not going to solve anything.
He's just going to come back.
Well, I don't see any other option.
When other people have threatened you,
you've found other options.
I can't. He's my father.
I'm going to call my bank.
I know what you're thinking.
I'm not thinking anything.
Clint McKay doesn't meet the code.
But Joseph Jensen does.
It's not as much fun
when you're not wearing your suit, is it?
Who-who are you? I can't see you.
Maybe I'm a phantom.
Then again, maybe not.
A phantom can't hurt you.
Oh, God. Please don't.
- Who's Bobby? - Let me go.
Stop whining.
Who's Bobby?
Bobby Hamilton, my best friend when I was 12.
That's when you set your first fire.
I didn't set it. Bobby did.
It was all his idea.
But then he died, and I got caught.
They sent me to the nuthouse, like I was crazy.
It's all because of Bobby. Fucking asshole.
So does he still talk to you?
Is Bobby the one telling you to set these fires?
No, that would make me crazy,
and I'm not fucking crazy!
But I only hurt people because of Bobby.
No, you're the one who's setting those fires.
You're the one who's burning people alive.
You can't blame it on something
that happened to you when you were a kid.
You're not a kid anymore.
It's time for you to take responsibility.
Fuck.
The caller said they smelled kerosene.
Looks like we have the right place.
Holy shit.
That's Joe Jensen. I interviewed this guy.
Dumb fuck must have passed out from the fumes.
He's still alive.
I guess we found our phantom.
Who'd have thought it would be so easy?
Yeah.
Guys, come on down.
Got your call.
Glad you came to your senses.
You got my money?
Yeah. It's right back here.
What's with all the plastic?
You'll find out soon.
What the hell?
I realize this isn't the best way
to make a good impression on your girlfriend's father.
But I can't allow you to hurt Hannah.
Oh, please.
I won't talk to the cops. I'll leave town.
I promise, I'll never come near Hannah again.
I wish I could believe you.
Actually, I don't, 'cause then, I couldn't kill you.
Oh, please, you don't have to do this.
That's what I'm realizing.
I don't have to.
But I want to.
Even though you don't meet my code,
I really, really want to.
Because, unlike you, I care about Hannah.
You got the devil inside you, boy.
No, I think it's just me.
Sink or swim, daddy.
Hey, Deb.
We arrested the Phantom, thanks to you.
Now I know why you weren't at the Fox Hole.
Consider it a gift.
Bullshit. You want something in return.
And I'm guessing it's for me to lay off your girlfriend.
Well, now that you mention it.
Forget it.
I always give in to you.
But not anymore.
I understand.
I got the money for my dad.
I left him a message.
He should be here soon.
- He won't be coming. - How do you know?
I had a talk with him.
I made it clear
that I wouldn't allow him to hurt you anymore.
And I think he understood.
So he's gone?
He won't be bothering you again.
Thank you.
The Dark Passenger has been with me
ever since I can remember,
pulling the strings, running the show.
But as it turns out, I'm no puppet.
And you should know, you were right.
About what?
The Dark...Rider.
He doesn't exist.
Turns out, maybe you understand me
a little better than I understand myself.
I love you.
I think I love you too.
Hey. I need your help.
We need to find a woman named Arlene Shram.
Sure. Who's that?
According to a message I got last night
from Hannah McKay's father,
she's a witness to a murder.
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com