nah, telephone post just decided to fall. it'll take us a while to clear this up so i'm afraid you're gonna have to take the long way home, miranda.
and tell your husband he owes me a phone call.
that a girl. the law never sleeps and all that. you take care now.
mr. howard -- let me simply list the events your client was involved in last night. first she drugs a janitor, steals his car and escapes a mental institution --
mr. howard -- there isn't evidence because the overdosed janitor hasn't woken up, that's why -- and when your client was questioned on the matter she admitted to injecting a full syringe of --
mr. howard, this is not a courtroom. your client was read her rights and she still insisted --
i'm not a drug expert. i'm simply stating the frigging facts. sheriff ryan burns his tongue on the coffee, notices parsons and pete approaching. relief crosses his face.
phil, thank god -- this guy's driving me nuts!
an 'incident' -- for lack of a better frigging word -- involving miss grey and a teenage girl who's been tortured and is in critical condition and chances are slim she'll even utter another word.
a runaway from portland, tracy marie seaver. reported missing a couple weeks ago. we found miss grey in some barn off willows creek with the girl all messed up. i'm just now waiting for the surgeon to give me an update. notice, counselor, how i'm not even mentioning her trespassing or lying to a police officer. teddy waves him off in frustration. goes to talk to turlington.
christ, the woman's got the entire hospital busy -- sheriff ryan notices teddy talking to turlington --
why are you harassing my deputies?
he's not at liberty to answer that. you've had enough goddamn coffee already. the sheriff leaves pete and parsons. they walk over to the water cooler where they can talk more privately.
phil, how well does your wife know the suspect?
because she's at the station right now, demanding to speak with her. parsons frowns at this, concerned. pete studies him.
don't push it, doctor. she's cuffed until your people secure her in a cell.
tomorrow morning first thing my deputies are here.
and my offer still stands if you need added security.
come on, phil, you of all people --
has it occurred to you that maybe she knew what her husband was doing to those girls?
maybe she couldn't stand the guilt and cooked up this far-fetched tale to tug at everybody's heartstrings. the fact remains she hacked her husband to pieces.
calm down. for the record, that girl is on a ventilator. the doctors don't think she'll make it through tonight.
now, you want to stand up in a courtroom and tell a judge that a ghost is behind all this, that's your prerogative -- but i have to abide by the law. and the law says miranda grey faces criminal chargers. so here's what we're going to do. i'm going to leave a cruiser outside to make sure you don't go anywhere tonight and two of my deputies will go guard ms. grey until tomorrow morning. phil? parsons doesn't respond. his eyes far away.
there will be no breakouts, no aiding and abetting, no taking the law into your own hands. it'll take an act of god for miranda grey not to show up in that courtroom tomorrow. are we clear? and now the sheriff can see that parsons is crying. quietly, miserably. and it's a disparaging sight. sheriff ryan exits. two deputies follow, radios
christ almighty. sheriff ryan hits the stairs.
young lady, i don't know how you think you can get out of here, but --
turlington, it's alright. i can -- i'm just going to --
the grownups are -- are talking now. just leave.
what are you talking about? she opens his shirt to reveal the tattoo: a 1950s pinup- style woman surrounded by flames, arms raised, shackled. anima sola. miranda's recurring vision from the night of the slaughter.
you've lost your mind.
and just exactly who would believe you? no proof, no living witness. everybody knows you're crazy. miranda's finger itches on the trigger as they face off. her hand starts to shake. sheriff ryan turns and strides off. getting away. further. further.  but as much as she wants to, she can't bring herself to do it. finally brings the gun down. the armed policemen rush over and disarm her, shove her to the floor and cuff her.
i want that woman in custody. she has a judge to face in the morning.
how did you know?
this isn't one of your word association games, doctor. did douglas tell you that night?
maybe it's your amnesia. maybe you blocked it out.
you think me and doug are monsters. that this was all a carefully laid out plan with those girls. but it wasn't that at all. you do things sometimes and you're not sure why you did them. then you realize you can live with them and so can everyone else. life goes on.
one thing about fear is it makes people say the dumbest things.
my only problem is you.
i hate a bad bluffer. she makes a big effort to hide how much that stung.
go ahead, hit me back. it's what you want.
back to profiling, huh? your thought process is completely transparent. and now miranda briefly takes the reins of the conversation. analyst and patient in session. echoing her opening scene with chloe.
i guess we'll find out.
trust me, prisoners hang themselves with just about anything.
don't worry, you'll scream. take off your shirt. this throws her off. she shoots a quick glance at the door.
take it off. she hesitates. he draws his gun, tired. removes the safety.
but i can smash your teeth out and make it look like you bashed your head against the wall. now shut up, take off your goddamn shirt and pull off your bra.
today, doctor. in a sudden move, miranda shoves the chair at him and bolts out the door. the sheriff doesn't move to stop her.
doug mentioned you were painfully 'modest.' but enough about you, let's discuss rachel.
she was no crippled saint. wasn't the first time she turned up at doug's house all messed up.
sure she was a minor, but she wasn't going to let that get in her way.
those other girls -- make no mistake -- they knew what they were getting into. he appears at the doorway now, peeks inside the room. sensing her in there. miranda holds her breath.
i'm not saying they knew they were going to die, but truth is, doug and i didn't know it was going to end that way. it was just the natural extension of that moment. so yeah, we fucked them and we killed them. and we knew it was wrong. sure we did. he reaches the upturned desk and flips it over with a clanging sound. miranda wasn't underneath that one. she scrambles to the door behind him as he turns --
it wasn't some satanic pact, society didn't make us do it. but i believe given the proper circumstances a person is capable of anything -- certainly in my line of work you see it day in, day out. tell you what, keep the shirt. the bra will do. miranda stares, helpless. the sheriff gestures for her to begin. like he has all the time in the world. miranda slides up the wall and starts to unclasp her bra under her shirt. petrified --
chin up, doctor. you wanted to get to the bottom of this and you did. you followed it all the way through. this is how it ends. his demeanor and voice are eerily calm, as if in a trance. he takes the bra from her hand and hangs it around her neck, as if helping somebody with their tie. she takes a step back and finds herself pinned against the wall --
doug settled down once you two got married. new start and all that. wanted nothing to do with this runaway i'd found, tracy seaver -- he squeezes the bra tightly around her throat, choking her. she stares straight into his eyes -- her whole body simultaneously frozen in place and shaking uncontrollably --
or so he claimed. because the truth, doc -- is people never change. the son of a bitch couldn't resist. i asked him to dump the body and instead he went found some barn to work her out of his system some more. go fucking figure. and now we pan down to see miranda's left hand ever so slowly reach for his holster.
you can't count on anyone, even friends you've had your whole life.
the only soul you can ever count on is yourself -- blam! a gunshot rings out and half his ear explodes in a gush of blood. he stumbles back, still on his feet, dazed. he looks up at miranda with the gun trained on him. struggling to catch her breath. a faint smile forms on his lips, somehow appreciative of this turn of events.
why, doctor. that was unexpected. he steps forward, almost playfully. she slowly shakes her head. wraps her fingers tightly around the trigger --
you sure about this? he stares at her. blood flowing from the side of his head. he's now standing directly in front of miranda's open cell, weighing his options at triple speed --
you need me alive for your story to stick. be logical now. you know you can't kill me. he takes exactly half a step forward when miranda drills a bullet through his forehead. sheriff ryan splays backwards and lands with a crash.