So, Dexter's in Narcotics Anonymous, which is fine, but he doesn't stay at his first meeting through to the end, and ends up not getting a "first day chip." Rita's not pleased. So not pleased, in fact, that she tells him to stick with it or take a hike. He tries a second time, and tells everyone a bullshit story about himself, "Bob." A fetching lass named Lilah takes him out for coffee afterwards and calls him on his shit, making him feel nervous, because he thinks addicts will be able to see the lies he has inside. He tells Rita that he doesn't need NA, and can totally recover on his own, and she shoves him out of her place.
Meanwhile, Special Agent Lundy has put together his task force for the BHB, which includes Deb, Masuka, and Angel. He couldn't have chosen a better time, because Pascal made a PR faux pas, telling the press that people should come down to the station and report missing people. At first, Deb has trouble dealing with all the sad people and their sad stories, and she tells Lundy that she wants off his task force. Lundy insists that Deb stay on, and eventually she makes the connection of a couple of missing people being "bad guys," which Lundy finds interesting.
On the killing front, Dexter's found a car salesman who runs credit checks on young women to find out more info on them, then hunts them down and rapes and kills them. Dexter does away with the guy, but not before buying a new minivan from him and having a heart-to-heart with the guy about women. When the guy calls Rita a "cunt," Dexter...well, you know. He stabs him in the heart.
NA eventually turns out to be a decidedly convenient lie, as Dexter's third turn allows him to come clean about his addiction (which I guess isn't really a lie; I mean, he is addicted to killing people) and use his real name, as well as impress the undeniably tasty Lilah. It also gets Rita to take him back, and it gets Doakes off his back when he tracks Dexter to the meeting.
Previously: Dexter's bodies of work were discovered in the ocean. Deb was psyched about the "Bay Harbor Butcher," but Dexter hated the moniker. So did Special Agent Frank Lundy, the FBI guy sent to investigate these wacky murders. Doakes was tailing Dexter relentlessly. Rita finally brought up the whole Paul's shoe thing, and got a false confession from Dexter about him being a heroin addict.
"My name is Caroline. I'm an addict," says...well, Caroline, to the group of Narcotics Anonymous members looking on. After everyone says, "Hey, Caroline," she begins telling her story about pain pills and back surgery, and how after her back stopped hurting, she kept taking the pills, blah blah blah. "I just need them." "And I need duct tape," VOs a very bored-looking Dexter. "About four rolls. Running low on heavy-duty trash bags. When's the last time I sharpened my knives?" Oh, dude. He does not look happy to be there. Caroline's begun to cry, and Dexter rolls his eyes. "Tears, now? It's very hard to concentrate in here. How am I supposed to get any work done." Dexter smells something funny, and turns around to find some nasty bum looking down at him. A fetching young woman watches the brief interaction and smiles as Dexter stands to check out the coffee table offerings. As Caroline continues, Dex VOs, "No self-control, lost everything, trying to stop. Same whiny story over and over for...ten minutes? Seems like ten hours." He picks up a tiny brown donut and knocks it on the table, producing a solid clunk, and the same young woman looks back at him. "I'd kill for a Vicodin," says Caroline. "Lightweight," replies Dexter in his head. Dexter's had enough, and ducks out early.
"So, how was the meeting?" asks a hopeful-sounding Rita. "It was, uh, interesting hearing the same story over and over again," replies Dexter as he unpacks Chinese food. "Knowing you're not alone?" offers Rita. "Exactly." After Astor inquires about the presence of fortune cookies, Rita asks if he shared or if he just listened. "I just wanted to take it all in the first time out." Rita continues to grill him about a sponsor, and Dex says he didn't want to rush into such an important relationship. Rita agrees, and then says, "Okay, so let's see your newcomer's chip!" Dexter's all, "Newcomer's chip, yeeeaaahhh..." Rita looks nonplussed, and asks if he stayed until the end, and Dex says, "Of course I did. Right until the end." Now miffed, Rita tells him what a terrible liar he is and heads into the kitchen to get plates. She says she's too familiar with twelve-step programs to be fooled, and Dexter "admits" that he left early because he had some "important errands to run." "Important? Am I important? Are the kids?" Dex looks lost. "Yeah. Yes, of course." "Well, you're just going to have to figure out how important, because if you don't work the program -- and I mean really work it -- I just...I can't go through this again." She hands him the plate-pile hastily and gets the kids for dinner as Dexter wonders, "How important are they? I'm sure someone with a heart could answer that question." Oh, not this crap again. Come off it, bro. You have a heart. And, yes, I'm talking about the figurative one, jerkwater. Dexter goes to Rita and hugs her from behind: "Tomorrow; I'll go tomorrow. I'll stay." Rita looks happy again, and Dexter looks genuinely relieved, and in just one instant, his face shows how devastated he would be if he lost her. He fuckin' lurves her ass.
At the station, Dexter jams his hand in the closing elevator just in time, and finds Doakes's smarmy face upon entering. Dexter thanks him sarcastically for not holding the elevator, and Doakes says, "Nice dodge last night, flooring it through that yellow light." "Oh, were you behind me?" asks Dex, mockingly. "See you tonight," says Doakes as he exits the elevator. Dexter follows him into the office, where there are tons of civilians lined up outside. LaGuerta is trying to deal with the crowd, saying, "We will get to all of you." She instructs a uniformed cop to take names and get people organized. Some dude off camera says, "Sue MacMillan, she disappeared four years ago!" Once inside the office, Dexter asks Angel who all these people are. "Every family member of every missing person for the last decade." "Including some sad, lonely, and presumably single women, courtesy of Lt. Pascal," adds Masuka. LaGuerta chimes in, "It's not her fault; that reporter's an asshole." She makes a call and tells some Sergeant to hold the rest of the people downstairs, and then asks Angel if he's seen Pascal. "She's just caught in a cycle of reaction." Oh, God. When's he going to come off this shit? "She's not co-creating her own reality." "You know those words don't actually mean anything, right?" says Dexter. "Look around you, bro. She's manifesting negativity." Okay, that I'll agree with. Masuka brings everyone's attention to the TV screen, saying, "It's on again." What's on is a guerilla interview with Lt. Pascal, and the reporter is asking about the BHB case. "We've heard reports there were dozens of bodies discovered." "Not dozens," she replies nervously. Masuka comments on Pascal's boobs, and LaGuerta tells him to show some respect. Hmm, I guess she and Pascal are in the same corner. The report continues with the reporter asking if the families of the victims have been notified, and Pascal replies, "We're still trying to identify them." "So, if our viewers have any information, they should contact you?" "Yes, fine." Hmm, so she's responsible for the clusterfuck? Nice. "Pascal's definitely off her game," says Angel. Masuka comments that the rumor is "her fiancé's catching some strange on the sly." "That'll do it," says Angel. LaGuerta, annoyed, turns off the TV.
Dexter looks over the gathered crowd out the hall, and VOs, "Most of these people won't find answers here. Chances are their loved ones weren't among my chosen few. Mathstor walks in with Lundy and asks for everyone's attention. First, he congratulates everyone for their hard work so far. "And, with the best manhunter in the FBI, we should have answers soon. In the meantime, the daily work of this precinct must continue to serve the public, so we'll be dividing up our resources." He then begins to read off Lundy's list for his task force members, as Masuka apologizes to Dex for taking Lead Forensics Investigator on the case: "Sorry you got bumped, but hey, no blood spatter." "Sucks to be me." Then he VOs, "Actually, it keeps me off Lundy's radar." Apparently, Angel and Deb have been added to the task force as well, and Batista is amped. Deb looks confused. Mathstor finishes by saying, "The Ice Truck Killer was an amateur compared to this guy," and Dex smiles a little bit. Lundy turns to Mathstor and tells him he wants the Lieutenant to consult with him before she blabs to the press. "I'll rip her a new one, if I can find her."
"Prints, fiber, trace evidence," VOs Dex. "No, they won't find anything. I followed all of Harry's painstaking preventative measures. He knew that nothing stays buried forever. His code will protect me. Still, I wish my own sister weren't hunting me; it makes for an awkward family dynamic." Yeah, but she doesn't need to know that.
"So, I'm a Fed. My suit proves it," says Lundy to a room filled with his task force. "The other suits here are Feds. But, suit or...[looking at Angel] ugly Hawaiian shirt -- no offense -- we're a team, and our first play is identifying those bodies." He continues to say that once they know who the bodies belong to, they can fill in all the details of their lives, "from their huevos rancheros to their creme brulée." Um, okay. He mentions that Masuka and his team are going through prints and dental records, while this team right here is going to work on cold cases, missing person files, and interviewing the massive crowd outside, despite the fact that most of them will be a total waste of time. "Negative thinking," says Angel to Deb, who rolls her eyes with me.
Dexter's at a Ford car lot, VOing, "When the manhunt is on, the hunted go shopping. Not for a new car, for my project. I won't act on it...yet. I'm still laying low; Harry would insist on that. Just getting the research out of the way." Dexter's investigating a minivan, and it gets 33 miles per gallon, which is pretty amazing for a big ride like that. Flashing on a crime scene, he continues, "Someone talked his way into the homes of two women and didn't leave until they were dead. Ann Cohen, and a month before her, Lynn Hall. A certain car dealership ran credit checks on both women. Both bought cars elsewhere so nobody thought about it twice. But who requested those credit checks? Roger Hicks." A guy who I'm assuming is Hicks is slicking his way around with some potential customer, smiling in that way only car salesman do. As he takes a slow-motion sip of coffee, Dex VOs that all he needs is some DNA proof. "Cup of coffee should do the trick." Dexter begins exploring another minivan, and it gets Hicks's attention, as I imagine he planned. "How many kids you got?" "Heh. Enough," replies Dex. "I hear ya! When my two came along, it was 'bye-bye, convertible,'" says Hicks as he places his coffee cup on the roof. "Of course, they're worth it," he says, and shows Dex a picture of them on his phone. "Must take after their mom," says Dex, knowing full well this guy doesn't actually have kids. "That they do, thank God!" laughs Hicks, before going into the hard sell, with the DVD headrests. He even goes so far as to say that, since he owns the same model (my ass), he thinks the ride is even smoother than his old convertible. Whatever, dude. How do we know your old convertible wasn't some clunker with the roof hacked off? "My wife loves the nav system and all the safety features, and when they're happy..." "You're happy." "Except the kids don't exist," Dex VOs as he checks out the van. "Neither does the wife. And he owns a Beamer, not a minivan. Still, he's seamless." Hicks quickly takes his coffee cup and chucks it in the trash bag of one of his maintenance guys, making it pretty awkward for Dexter to grab his DNA that way. Luckily, Dex notices Hicks's comb in his jacket pocket, which is sitting on a seat in the van, and snags it as Roger pulls the car's specs for him. Dexter says he thinks he has all the info he needs to make a decision, and I guess Ford and Showtime have some kind of deal, because Roger brings up the "stow-and-go seating system," which he demonstrates. "I have had everything in here from a soccer team to a deer carcass. It was an accident, of course, but I sure was glad for the ample cargo space, not to mention the tinted windows." Dexter looks enamored. "I can see how that might come in handy." "I'll just grab the keys!" says Hicks, excited, and he runs inside, totally sweaty, and nerdily high-fives another salesman on the way. Hilarious.
Dexter pulls into the station in his new ride, VOing, "I go to stalk a killer, and I end up with a new car? How'd that happen?" "New car?" asks LaGuerta, who's parked right him. "Yeah." "You gettin' married?" "Not that I know of." "Huh. So, what's with the mommy-mobile?" "I'm, uh...not sure." Yeah, you are, dude. You're psyched about being a dad for Cody and Astor, while also being able to fit bodies into your convenient stow-and-go seating system.
Inside, Dexter checks out one of Roger's hairs from his comb under the microscope, and says, "Synthetic." "Even Roger's hair is a lie. I could learn a thing or two from this guy." Masuka comes in and says, "Who's your daddy?" "Uh, Harry Morgan." "Dude, the lead forensics investigator on the joint task force, that's who. You want in on this bitch or not?" "What bitch?" "The only bitch in town, baby! The Bay Harbor Butcher." Masuka proudly announces that he got Dexter temporarily assigned, and Dexter looks terrified. "Vince, you didn't have to do that." Masuka doesn't care, and tells Dex that he'll just be working bone marrow stuff, but it'll get him access to the tent, which is apparently "amazing. Say it." "You're my daddy?" "It sounds weird when you say it."
Deb is interviewing a crying woman as she talks about her missing boyfriend. She shows Deb a picture, and Deb says, "He looks nice." "Not according to my mother, or the police. He was in and out of jail, but my heart raced whenever I saw him." The lady also has a toothbrush, and hopes they can pull some DNA off of it. She starts crying again, and Deb looks like she's going to puke her pants, so she hunts down Lundy, who's in the break room, and tells him she'd appreciate him finding someone else. "You want off?" he asks, confused. "Just as soon as you can replace me, sir." "This is a chance to solve a pretty important case. Most people get into this line of work to do just that." "Well, I've got cases of my own backing up, and the precinct is short-handed with all this shit, so if you don't mind..." Lundy says he'll see what he can do, but he looks disappointed. He then tells her to continue with the interviews, and leaves her looking disappointed in herself, which she should be, the little quitter.
Outside, on the way to the amazing tent, Masuka's telling Dexter how the coldness of the ocean floor combined with the tight packaging of the bags has kept the bodies pretty well-preserved. "A little gelatinous, sure, but..." "I'd rather remember my old playmates as they were," VOs Dexter. "Neat, clean little packages." "You know Vince, I appreciate you doing me this favor, but --" "Actually, you're doing me the favor. I need your help, buddy. The pressure's fucking ridonkulous." That's the first time I've heard "ridonkulous" used on a TV show. It's a proud moment, it really is. Finally, they reach the gigantic structure, and Masuka says, "Field morgue, for the overflow, but it's state-of-the-art. Fuckin' FBI, eh?" Dexter looks cautious, but curious, and he follows him in. Masuka starts putting on rubber gloves and says, "A good percentage are just bones. Must have fed the fish when the bags tore. Humpty fuckin' Dumpty, right?" "Exactly," Dex VOs. "They weren't meant to be put back together again." Dexter walks in and takes it all in. "They were meant to remain in the silent shadows, keeping their secrets. Now they're exposed to the glare, reflecting my darkness like some grotesque carnival mirror." Man, there's a lot of trays in there. "Harry was right; nothing stays buried, perhaps not even me." Fadeout. That must be a serious trip, man. Of course, I don't know. I never killed anyone.
Later, Dex leaves in his new minivan and passes Doakes, who's looking around confusedly. "Looking for my Taurus, Sergeant? Keep looking. You don't need to know where I'm going tonight." Ooh, I hope you're going to kill that Roger guy, slick fish that he is.
Alas, no; he's going to another NA meeting, where some dude is talking about how he screwed himself using smack as Dexter sits down. He meets eyes with the dark-haired hottie from the session, and she looks away first. The dude at the podium says he's twenty days sober, "again, hoping to make it twenty-one." Everyone claps, and he shakes hands with his group leader, who begins speaking about the newcomer's chips, and Dexter raises his hand to receive one. Everyone claps again as Dex makes his way to the podium. The group leader tells him he has about three minutes to talk, if he wants, so Dexter stands there and clears his throat, not sure what to say. Hottie McGee asks what his name is, and I'm surprised to find that she's British. After a long pause, Dexter says, "Bob." "Hi, Bob," says everyone. "Hi...and, I'm an...addict. I use heroin. Shoot it. It's affecting my job. My boss found my works, and fired my ass. I showed him by spending every last penny of my final paycheck on junk." This elicits a knowing laugh from the motley audience. "Doctor said I..." he trails off, noticing Hottie's unbelieving glare from where she's sitting. "Uh...I almost died," he finishes earnestly.
A bit later, as everyone's folding chairs and talking, Dexter's pouring himself some coffee, and Hottie walks up and tells him it sucks. "As bad as the donuts. It's better door. Come on." She leaves without him, leaving him no choice but to follow.
In the diner door, Dexter says the coffee is much better. "So, tell me, exactly how full of shit are you?" the young woman says. "I'm not full of anything." "It was a nice performance, in there. Where did you download it from? Addict.com?" "I have no reason to lie," covers Dexter. "Sure you do. We all do." "You thought I was lying?" repeats Dexter, digging himself deeper. "I don't know, Bob." Ooh, she's good. "Well, it is anonymous." Heh. "Everyone in that room has heard or lived far worse than anything you've ever done." See, that's where you're totally wrong, beyotch. "I doubt it," says Dex. Hottie calls Dexter "super-junkie" mockingly, and Dexter says he didn't mean to imply her life hasn't been difficult. "There's no way I could know what you've experience, right?" she says. "I couldn't possibly feel that need, like a thousand hiding voices whispering, 'this is who you are.' And you fight the pressure, the growing need rising like a wave, prickling and teasing and prodding to be fed." Whoa, whoa. Are we talking about the same thing here? Because I kind of feel like you're speaking on something much more sinister, now. Dexter looks like his mind is being blown. "But the whispering gets louder, until it's screaming, 'Now!' And it's the only voice you hear, the only voice you want to hear. And you belong to it, to this shadow self, to this --" "Dark passenger?" "Yes, the dark passenger." Dude, you guys should totally hang out more. You have so much in common! Plus, it seems like she's getting really turned on by this conversation, but maybe that's just her vampiric thirst for junk or whatever her drug is. Dexter, feeling exposed, pays his portion of the bill and leaves abruptly. The woman, whose name we still don't know, looks incredulous.
"She knows," Dex VOs on the way to his car. "She recognizes demons, dark passengers. Maybe the others can, too. This program is too risky, especially now. Rita will have to understand." Yeah, don't bank it, bro.
Dexter arrives at Rita's just after she's put the kids to bed, and he shows her his chip. She looks proud of him, and gives him a hug. "It made me realize something important." "Really, what's that?" "Those meetings are not a good place for me." Pissed. Dexter continues: "I know how this sounds, but I can do this on my own." "Dexter, you need a program!" "I've read studies! People are ten times as likely to change on their own as they are with the help of doctors or programs." "So you're quoting studies?" She's not having this shit, because she saw Paul fail so many times in his attempts at sobriety. "I'm not Paul!" He tries to convince her that the meeting will do more harm than good: "I'm better off alone." Rita kisses him, says, "I pray you change your mind," and puts him outside like a puppy that just shat on the new rug. "What just happened?" You know, dude. You're going to have to go to these meetings if you want to keep this relationship alive.
Deb's got some Cheesy Poofs, and...Mmm, Cheesy Poofs. You know what? I just...just give me, like, two minutes.
Okay, back. And, now I'm getting chemical cheese dust all over my keyboard. That's just great. Thanks a lot, Deb. Anyway, Deb's eating Cheesy Poofs and is all spaced out on the couch, watching some TV. Dexter opens the front door, which is dead-bolted as usual, and Deb goes to let him in. "Thought you were staying at Rita's," she says. "Takin' the night off. I thought you'd be on the treadmill." "Takin' the night off." Well, all right, then. They both veg out for a moment, and a car commercial comes on the TV. "A night off is good," Dex VOs. Yeah, I guess, if you make good use of it, which Dexter doesn't, because...
The day (what the hell was all that "night off" talk?) he's back at the Ford Dealership, VOing, "Two women are dead, the killer is selling minivans, and I have an opportunity to prove it, even if I am laying low. Having a victim prepped and ready will take the edge off the wait...I hope." Hicks sees Dexter approaching and runs up and shakes his hand. "What's going on, Dex?" He tells Dexter that if he's having any problems with the van, the service center is around the corner, and Dexter tells him the van is fine, he was just thinking about the extended warranty and a couple extras. Hicks tells him he's with a customer, but the girl inside can help. "I'd rather deal with you, I'll just wait for you in your office," says Dex, and heads in to the office, which is on a boat. That's right.
Inside, Dexter grabs a couple of cigarette butts with a sandwich bag, VOing, "DNA, DNA, come out and play." A young and attractive woman comes up, and says she's just dropping off a thank you note for Roger. Dexter says he was just leaving, and gets up, and the woman says, "He sent you across the street, didn't he?" "Across the street?" "It's okay. He told me not to tell anyone either. I don't know how he makes all his commissions sending people to other dealers." Dexter posits that perhaps Roger has ulterior motives, but the woman says that maybe he just knows she can't afford his price. "After he ran a credit check?" asks Dexter, now interested. "TRW doesn't lie," she says. "So you're single?" says Dexter, and the woman looks taken aback before replying affirmatively. "Makes it tougher to afford those big ticket items, like cars and houses. You rent an apartment?" "A house. I hate sharing walls 'cause you can hear everything." "Tell me about it. No pets, though, right?" "Is this a come-on? 'Cause it's a little weird." Hastily, Dexter says, "It must be why I'm still single," and books out of there. "Another brunette," he VOs. "Single, neighbors at a distance, no guard dog." He's watching the young woman give Roger a kiss on the cheek. "The credit check gives Roger all the details he needs. She's , and I can't do anything about it. Not until this manhunt ends. Harry would insist on it." Roger creepily watches the woman walk away, a murderous lust twinkling in his eye.
"What? No, I'll take care of it," says LaGuerta into her phone as she looks into Pascal's office. Pascal is also on the phone, saying, "I know the card is in his name, I just want to check the charges." Oh, for fuck's sake. This again? Whatever, I'll keep it brief. LaGuerta comes in and basically tells Pascal to get her shit together, because things aren't getting done. "I know things are rough with your fiancé right now, but we need to keep clearing that board out there." Pascal says she feels like her heads been up her ass recently, and they get to cop talk. I don't really care because they're talking about cops we don't know. Pascal's fiancé walks into the office, and once again, Pascal blows LaGuerta off to shut her blinds. LaGuerta tells Pascal that she'll handle the work stuff, and goes out to do just that. I don't know why she's being so nice to Pascal, because she's really fucking up big time. The fiancé goes in and starts railing to Pascal as Maria leaves. Don't care! God, I really want them to drop that stupid story line, or at least make it relevant. This is getting tiresome.
In the lab, Dexter's matched Hicks's DNA to the semen at the crime scenes. "If I do nothing, another woman dies. Is that my long-dormant conscience talking, or the dark passenger whispering?" Dexter dials his cellphone, and after a pause, says, "Hi, it's me." "Hi, Dexter," says Rita solemnly. He asks if the kids are home yet, and Rita tells him Colleen (who we've never met) is picking them up. "I'm a little...confused." "I'm sorry you're confused, Dexter." "It's pizza night, should I pick up the usual?" "Did you go back?" "To a meeting? Thinkin' about it." "The kids and I will order in, then," she says coldly as she lights a cigarette. What's with the smoking, Rita? Jesus. "So, is this it?" says Dexter, worry lines creasing his forehead. "It's up to you, Dexter." Dex hangs up, looking dejected.
Deb is interviewing another woman on the brink of tears. Apparently, this woman is looking for her seven-year-old daughter, and that's just fucking sad. The woman starts losing it and speaking in Spanish, and Deb tells her, "Don't cry," obviously trying not to get emotionally involved. The woman continues to ramble in Spanish, and Deb calls Angel over because she can't deal. After speaking with the woman, Angel tells Deb, "She thinks you can find her daughter." "There are no kids down there. Tell her I can't help her. I can't help you!" The woman reaches out to grab Deb's hands, and Deb starts crying, stands up, and leaves to go find Lundy. She finds him in his special office, and barges right in. "It's been twenty-four hours since I asked to be replaced." "Has it?" "What's taking so long? Every cop on the damn force wants on this case, just take your pick." Lundy grills her about why she wants off so bad, and she says, "Because I'm the last person in the world who should be on it. You want me to find a serial killer? I was engaged to one, for Christ's sake." Yeah, for about a day. "That's why I chose you, you know," says Lundy. "Because of what you went through. You survived. I don't know how. I can't begin to imagine the strength it took, continues to take. More than that, you've had a first-hand look into the mind and heart of a killer, and you're still here. If you can accept that, really accept it, you could use it. Mix that with some of your strength, and you could catch someone even worse than the Ice Truck Killer. But you have to stop running." Deb looks gobsmacked, and Lundy tells her to finish the interviews for the day, and if she still wants off, he won't stop her. Deb leaves without another word.
"Lead fucking investigator," bitches Masuka, whose carrying a stack of files. "Translation: everyone's bitch! I do have a life, you know." "You do?" asks Dexter, messing with him. Masuka's in no mood, and asks Dexter for his marrow results, which he hands over. "No matches," says Dex. "Big surprise," says Masuka, yet something tells me it's not, really. On his way out, he tells Dexter to drop some dental x-rays off at the field morgue. "Fucking Bay Harbor Butcher is butchering my online social life." "Sorry," whispers Dexter when he's gone. Heh.
In the office, Deb is ready to see the person on line, and leads her in past LaGuerta's desk. "I figured you'd still be here," says Mathstor to LaGuerta in what I think is their first interaction all season. "You're a pain in the ass, but always a damn hard worker. And of course, you knew how to handle the press," he says with a smile. He summons her out to the hallway, where he tells her, "The public needs to believe we can protect them when all hell breaks loose, so I need all my people operating at their very highest levels." LaGuerta agrees, and Mathstor asks her if he should be worried about Pascal. "Why?" she asks. "You can cut the crap, Maria. I know she's been AWOL on personal matters. The press fuck-up is huge. And now I'm beginning to hear rumors about erratic behavior." LaGuerta wants to know what he getting at, and he tells her that since she's "done the job, if she's out, that means you're back in. That makes you her harshest critic, and I want it straight." LaGuerta throws it back in his face, telling him her perception that "erratic" is a weak code for "female," and he can basically shove his sexism up his ass. "I won't dignify rumors, Captain. Pascal's fine." But she's not, is she? Nope. Mathstor looks mildly amused. Those pesky females and their emotions!
Dexter's walking out to the parking lot, and Doakes reminds him that his minivan's in the other direction. "Field morgue is this way," Dex covers. "I'll wait." "You should take the night off, Sergeant." "On pizza night? No way." Dexter gives him a whatever face, and starts walking again. "What does that girlfriend of yours see in a freakshow like you, anyway?" "You have to ask her." "Maybe I will." Dexter stops and turns around again. "What exactly is it you think I've done?" "I know you're connected to the Ice Truck Killer." Dexter wonders if he could be more vague. "I know you're too careful. You keep your assets in cash. You don't belong to any organizations or alumni groups. You were top of your class in med school, but you traded it for fucking blood spatter." I didn't know he went to med school, but I guess it makes sense. "I know you studied martial arts in college, but I don't know what a lab geek needs with advanced jujitsu." "You know what an easy credit is?" says Dexter. "I know you're a good liar, too." Dexter turns away, and says to himself, "Not good enough."
At the field morgue, Dexter walks in and takes a long look at the bodies. "Sergeant Doakes thinks he knows my secrets, but he only needs to look at this, my body of work, to know the real me." "Suit up, if you're gonna touch!" says Lundy, who's sitting on the other side of the morgue, doing literally nothing. Dexter, caught off-guard, stumbles, and explains that he's just dropping off some x-rays. "I'm Dexter Morgan." "I know who you are." Dexter drops the x-rays over at the desk, and asks Lundy, "Are you hoping they'll talk to ya?" "The ones with heads, anyway. They always speak, eventually. Just gotta ask the right question." Dexter looks uncomfortable: "Which is?" "Why were they chosen?" Dexter asks if he's looking for a pattern. "One doesn't kill this many people in this careful, methodical way without a reason, some twisted set of principles." "They would have to be twisted, wouldn't they?" He looks terrified. Lundy explains that the worst killers in history were the one who thought their killing was just or deserved. "Leaders have slaughtered whole populations for the same warped reason." Dexter says there's never a justification for killing, but Lundy doesn't agree: "Well, one, of course. To save an innocent life." Hmm, interesting. "To save an innocent life," Dexter repeats.
Outside, Dexter VOs, "How many more bodies would there be had I not stopped those killers?" As he slashes one of Doakes's tires, he continues, "I didn't do it to save lives, but save lives I did. Motivation aside, I think Harry and Lundy would agree on this one."
Down at the Ford lot, Roger Hicks is packing up for the night. When he gets to his Beamer, Dexter startles him: "Roger the artful dodger. We have some unfinished business." "Oh, right the warranty and stuff. Listen, I can' right now, I got the wife waiting for me." "You're not married." "Ex-wife, I gotta take the kids." "You don't have kids." "Stepkids, they're hers!" "Nope." Why isn't this guy all, "Dude, what the fuck? Why do you know so much about me?" Instead, he says, "How about this: I don't give a shit!" He laughs a little and turns back to his car, and Dexter's on him right away with a piece of rope, cutting off Roger's blood to his brain. Naturally, he uses the stow-and-go seating to fit Roger into the back of the van. Nice. "You were right about the ample cargo space." Heh.
"Where am I?" says Roger upon waking up, wrapped in plastic. His hairpiece is on a model head on a desk. "Looks different under plastic," says Dexter. "But you spent an evening here...Ann Cohen? You took her last breath from her right over there, you remember?" "No, you're wrong. I wouldn't." "No, you would, and you did, and you were about to do it again. That's why we're here." "No, this is crazy. You got the wrong guy, I sell cars for God's sake! I never hurt anyone in my life, definitely not a woman." He's good, this guy. That sounded genuine. "Why can't I do that?" says Dex. "Do what?" "Lie like that! I thought I was good, but you...mwah!" Pleading, Roger tells Dexter to take any car on the lot in exchange for his life. "I'll call it in right now!" "Lot's closed." "I'll have 'em open it up, I'm the manager." "The manager's name is Rick Buxton. It's like watching someone ski moguls. You just hop from one lie to the , no shame, no embarrassment. You just don't give a shit. That's the key, right? Not to care about anyone or anything." "I care. I care a lot." "No, it was a compliment!" says Dex. "I don't care either." Hicks says, "Yes you do. Think about your wife." "Not married." "Your girlfriend, then. Saw it the minute you walked on the lot." He explains that he saw Dexter go right for the minivans, when most guys go straight to the horsepower. "It was like you could see her in the passenger seat, the kids in the back --" "Leave the kids out." "See? You're lying to yourself if you think you don't care." Thank you, Roger! That's what I've been trying to say! Awesome, man. Awesome. Dexter mentions that he does care, but "she shut me out." Relieved because he thinks he can befriend Dexter, Roger says, "That's what this is about? She shut you out? Man, okay, I get it. I've been there. But you can't let her get to you like this, 'cause they're all the same. Fuckin' bitches. You do everything for 'em, and then they fuck you!" Whoa, he's getting pretty worked up. "She's not worth it! You're better off without that cunt!" Dexter, displeased with Roger's use of the "C" word, stabs him in the heart and kills him rather quickly. "Don't talk that way about my girlfriend." Sheesh.
"I'm Dexter, and I'm...not sure what I am." Yup, you guessed it. Another NA meeting. "Hi, Dexter," says everyone. "I just know there's something dark in me. I hide it. I certainly don't talk about it. But, it's there, always, this dark passenger. And when he's driving, I feel...alive. Half-sick with the thrill, the complete wrongness. I don't fight him. I don't want to. He's all I've got." Dude, he's such a good fucking actor. Sorry, I'm just sayin'. "Nothin' else could love me, not even...especially not me. Or is that just a lie the dark passenger tells me? Because lately, there are these moments when I feel...connected...to something else. Someone. It's like the mask is slipping, and things...people...who've never mattered before are suddenly starting to matter. Scares the hell out of me." The group leader guy is totally crying, and I can't blame him. What a great speech. I love how he's truly being honest, but it's still completely applicable to an addiction scenario. I mean, he is dealing with an addiction of sorts. Hottie McGee starts doing the slow clap of victory, and everyone else joins her. Dexter smiles sheepishly as the group leader enthusiastically shakes his hand. As he returns to his seat, people pat him on the back and give him high fives and shit. Hottie says, "Hello...Dexter," and then offers to lead the serenity prayer. Dexter stands up with everyone, and looks around to see Doakes standing at the back of the room. He walks up with a menacing look on his face, and says, "I knew there was something wrong with you. The secrets, the sneaking around. Now it all makes sense." Everyone else has already grabbed hands and started the prayer, sans Dexter. "A lot of cops have been where you are," Doakes continues. "The booze, the drugs. Makes the job go down easier. Stay clean and stay out of my way, we won't have a problem." Well, that was a pretty simple solution. Except, what about the shit Doakes was rambling about before, like Dexter's jujitsu and shit? Does being in NA really throw Doakes that far off his scent? Or maybe Doakes is trying to throw Dexter off his scent, so that he can observe him acting naturally, and not as if someone's tailing him. Hmm. "Oh, and you owe a new Michelin, muthafucka!" Ha! Okay, that's awesome. Doakes leaves, and Dexter looks totally blown away. The group behind him claps as they finish the prayer, and Dexter joins in, celebrating his own personal victory.
At the station, Deb is finishing up with one last guy, telling him, "We'll do what we can to bring your dad home." "I'm sorry, you don't understand," says the young man. "I don't want him home. Just tell me he's dead, we need to know he's gone." "Right, you want closure," offers Deb. "I want peace," the guy corrects her. "He made our lives a living Hell. When he'd go to prison, it was a blessing, but you kept letting him out. I need to tell my mother and my sister that they're safe, and that he's rotting in Hell. Call me when you can tell me that." The guy takes off, and something dawns on Deb. She opens up a file from earlier, and sees Lundy walking towards the elevators. "Lundy, wait!" She runs out to meet him. "I think, I mean, it could be a coincidence, but there are two of them." "Two..." "Missing people, with records. Prison records." "Interesting," he says. "And who typically has a prison record?" "I dunno. Bad guys?" "Bad guys," Lundy repeats. "Do you think it could be --" "A pattern? Maybe," he says. He tells her to check all the victims DNA against the criminal database. Go, Deb! Just not too far! This show would suck with Dexter in jail.
Dexter's at Rita's house, knocking on the front door. Rita finally steps outside, annoyed, and says, "Dexter, what?" "You were right. I'm sorry to wake you up, but I had to let you know that you were right." "About what?" Really? Really? "The program," he replies. "It's good. It's really good. I'm always so in my own head. It's already really helped me a lot. Thank you." They embrace, and Rita's clearly happy with Dexter again, so crisis averted.
The day, they pull up to the meeting in the new minivan, and Rita comments on how much she likes the new ride. "So, I will pick you up in an hour," she says to him when he gets out. He says he wants to go someplace nice for lunch, and then he points and says, "Oh, there's my sponsor." Of course, she's obscured by some fat dude smoking a ciggy, and that's who Rita thinks he's talking about. "No, to him. Lilah." Oh, okay. That's her name. He goes and meets up with Lilah, and as soon as she puts her hand on his back, the camera zooms quickly on Rita's face, and for some reason I'm reminded of Tracy Flick when she loses it and rips down all those posters.
Right, so good stuff. The Doakes thing is at bay for now. Things with Rita are on the mend, but I wonder what direction they're planning to take this Lilah thing. I still couldn't really give less of a shit about Pascal or her stupid fiancé. It's also fun that Deb realized that the BHB might only be hunting "bad guys." Woohoo!