Okay, shit's getting pretty intense, for real. A lot went down, so let's get started.
Now that Doakes is Dexter's captive, and he knows exactly who Dexter is (and vice versa), most of the pretense has gone out of their relationship. Dexter makes as though he's going to kill Doakes, and even goes so far as to drug him, but before he passes out, Doakes mentions something about Harry that he discovered while investigating our leading man. Dexter can't let it go, so he keeps Doakes alive to find out more (and to get his prints on one of his murderin' knives so he can frame him).
Rita pays Dexter a visit in his heavily guarded apartment to talk things out, and hopes it's cool to "just hang" until things seem appropriate to perhaps get back to their comfort level. Debra and Lundy have a bit of a tiff when he mentions the possibility that after the BHB case is laid to rest, he'll be moving on to the serial killer, wherever he or she may reside. Don't worry, they work it out. Let's not neglect Lila: she's having Angel over on a regular basis to help paint her apartment (and to get intel on Dexter's personal life). By the end of the episode, she's boned Angel and then taken a roofie to make it look like he date-raped her. This should be fun. Actually, no. Also, Debra confronts LaGuerta for not reporting Doakes's call to her last week, but LaGuerta's not hearin' it, because she knows Doakes is innocent (of being the BHB, at least).
You're probably wondering what Dex found out about Doakes's Harry secret. Turns out that heart failure was just what Harry's autopsy said when he died. In fact, Harry was so distraught about steering Dexter to the serial killer route that he committed suicide by ODing on his heart pills. Matthews is the one who reveals this to Dexter when he asks, and is also the guy who suppressed this info this whole time. Nice guy. Psych! He's a dick.
Back at the cabin, Dexter's lured Jimenez's cocaine contact to kill him (he also has a history of murder) in front of Doakes. Doakes goes catatonic on Dexter, telling him to "just stay away," making Dexter realize that he's what made Harry kill himself, as that is the exact same thing Harry said to him three days before he died.
So, yeah. There's a lot to be worked out. What's to become of Doakes? Of Deb and Lundy? Of Lila and Angel? Only time will tell. That, and maybe a few more murders. Suh-weet.
Previously: Dexter apologized (and rightly so) to Rita for his indiscretions with Little Miss Pardon My Tits. Doakes was on the run after Dexter's frame job. Lundy pulled Dexter in to analyze the blood slides they found in Doakes's car. Doakes called LaGuerta to claim his innocence. Lundy placed Dexter under a four-man protective detail. Deb and Lundy started boning. LaGuerta implored Lundy to re-examine evidence in the BHB case, because "Doakes is not your man!" Lila crashed the office to fuck with Dexter's head by getting to Angel. Dexter explained to Angel that Lila was just using him, but Angel didn't care. As Dexter was disposing of Jimenez's body, Doakes caught him in the act, but Dexter put up a struggle and Doakes ended up in the cocaine cage. At least he got to shoot Dexter in the leg.
Out at the cabin, Dexter is tending to his leg, which is looking pretty bloody. "Is it deep?" asks Doakes. "I hope it's fuckin' deep." Heh. I love him. Dexter replies that it's just a graze wound: "Minor tissue abrasion, no hemorrhage along the bullet track. Sorry, I think I'm gonna live." "Am I?" asks Doakes from his cage. "That's a good question." Doakes says that if Dexter isn't going to let him go, he'd rather just die now. As Dexter pours hydrogen peroxide onto his wound, he advises Doakes through gritted teeth to not tempt him. He bandages the wound, and says, "Why couldn't you just leave me to do my work in peace? Why'd you have to go and ruin everything?" "You're a killer. I catch killers." "So do I! I caught you!" "I'm not a killer," says Doakes, approaching the front of the cage. Dude, is this a conversation you really want to have right now? Dexter grins at him and lets out a little laugh. "You are," he says, tauntingly. "That's why you've always known what I am. That's why you have more officer-related shootings than anybody else. Only, I don't fuck with you when you shoot somebody! Why couldn't you pay me the same professional courtesy?" Doakes says there's nothing "professional" about what Dexter does: "I kill when I have to, on the job." "Oh, so it's okay to take a life as long as you get a paycheck for it?" Doakes maintains that the city pays him to "keep the law." Dexter has news for Doakes: "My code requires a higher standard of proof than your city's laws. At zero cost to the taxpayer...you ask me, I'm a bargain!" Taxpayers, Dex? Hmm -- do I detect a slight conservative bent to his rationalizations? "That enough bullshit, Morgan. Let's get this over with. Either kill me, or set me free, what's it gonna be?" "I actually think you'd like it if I killed you just to prove your point." Doakes says again that Dexter has to choose, but Dexter has to go: "I've got FBI guards standing outside my door right now to protect me from you." Dexter limps out of the cabin as Doakes calls after him. "You can't fucking ignore me!" I think he just did, dude. Sorry. Man, this is a tricky situation. How the...? I'll stop asking, sorry.
The elevators open at the station, and Deb and Lundy break the lip-lock they've got going for fear of being called out on some serious PDA. Deb walks out ahead of him, and Lundy says, "What's wrong? This place is a ghost town this early. Besides, I thought we were 'out' as a couple." "'Out' and 'flaunting it' are two different things." Fair enough. "Don't ask, don't tell?" "Works for the military." Yeah, not really. "Not really." I like you, Lundy. They head into the BHB room, and Deb notices a file on her desk. "Excellent! My subpoena for Doakes's phone records came through. He isn't much of a talker." Lundy suspects that Doakes doesn't have many friends, which is probably true. "Except for one," says Deb. She shows Lundy the file, which has Doakes's phone call to LaGuerta listed. "Doakes called her right after we launched the manhunt," observes Lundy, and Deb mentions that they could have traced the phone call. Lundy disagrees with this, knowing that Doakes wouldn't have stayed on the line long enough to be traced. "But LaGuerta should have given us the chance." Deb gets excited at the prospect of Lundy reaming Maria out, but Lundy gives the honor to Deb. "Me? I can't dress down my own boss!" "It's your subpoena." "Your case!" "Our case, and I need to know if your lieutenant can be counted on. You know her better than I do." Lundy nonchalantly offers Deb some lox. "Gross. Seriously, though, that'll just get me in deeper shit with her. LaGuerta already hates me." Lundy says he won't always "be around to run interference." Deb jokes that he still has at least "another five, ten good years in ya." "I mean I won't be around once this case ends." Uh oh. Dude, Deb's insecurity is not a box you want to open. ...Shit. Too late. Deb's face has already fallen.
Dexter climbs back through his bathroom window, being careful not to hurt his leg. He VOs, "Taking a life is one thing, but the care and feeding of it is another. I can't keep my problem locked away in a cabin forever." Dex collapses into his tub, and sits there for a moment, contemplating. "Harry always said there were plenty of people who deserved to die, but no matter how hard I close my eyes and wish, Doakes isn't one of them." He heads to the bedroom, where he falls on the bed. "Harry. He never prepared me for this one. What do I do? What would you do?" Dexter closes his eyes, clearly preparing himself for a flashback.
A woman lies dead on the pavement, an evidence marker lying by her head. Harry barks commands to someone, telling him to wake up Judge Moorehouse for a warrant. A younger (but still adult) Dexter watches, and his wig looks ridiculous. Deb leans out of the car window behind Dexter, and her wig also looks ridiculous, as do her glasses, which are somehow supposed to imply that she's younger. "She was dumped?" she says absently, clearly anxious to be involved somehow. "Debra," says Harry, "get back inside the car like I told you." She does as she's told, and Harry approaches Dexter. "Blunt trauma to the head?" asks Dex. Harry immediately gives him a look. "I went over there. No one saw." After a pause, Harry explains that a blow to the head killed the woman, "but she took a brutal beating beforehand. The guy who did this is an evil bastard." "You know who it was?" "Oh, yeah. I've been trying to nail him for a while. Pimp named Juan Rainez. She was one of his girls." "She was dumped, right?" asks Deb again, from inside the car. "Get back in the truck!" demands Harry, and again Deb slinks back into her seat, disappointed.
Dexter's awoken by knocking at his front door, and he slowly gets out of bed to answer it. It's A-Fed: "You awake?" "You for real?" asks Dex hazily. "You got a visitor." It's Rita, and she's holding two coffees. She looks cute. I like her dress. "Coffee?" she smiles, and Dex lets her in. "Yeah, why not?" "I heard the news," she says, putting her stuff down. "It's everywhere. Sergeant Doakes is the Bay Harbor Butcher?" "That's what they're saying," says Dex, shaking his head in mock non-belief. Rita tells him she was worried about him, and asks why the FBI is guarding his building. "Oh, you know the federal government. Any excuse to spend money." Word. So, I guess Dexter's a libertarian? Anyway, Dex takes a sip of his coffee, and it's cold. Rita apologizes, but Dex turns it around: "Well, there's nothing better on a muggy Miami morning than an iced coffee, right?" he says, turning to the fridge to grab some ice. As Rita sits down at the breakfast bar, Dexter asks how the kids are. "They asked about you, again. They've been pretty confused since we split up." "Yeah, me too," he replies. "Are you still confused?" she asks guardedly. "I'm generally confused most of the time, but not about us." Rita smiles, happy to hear that. Dexter looks down and realizes his leg has started to bleed through his pants. He says, "No," and covers it up. "It's not good?" asks Rita, misconstruing Dexter's "No." He corrects himself, saying, "No, it's great...to have this clarity." She's really glad he feels that way, obviously, and I have to say, so am I. I mean, look, as much as I hate Lila, I understand why she was important to Dexter and to the show, but come on. Dexter needs Rita, and not just because she's "damaged" or because he needs to keep up appearances. He obviously loves her and the kids, and she's clearly not bat-shit crazy like LMPMT (Little Miss Pardon My Tits). Plus, she's a stone fox! Don't get me wrong: Jaime Murray is certainly fetching, but Lila's character repulses me for so many reasons.
Anyway, Rita continues: "The kids have been through so much lately, you know, with Paul's death and my mom moving out. I don't want them to feel like they've been abandoned by everyone they love." Dexter looks at her intensely, and asks if that means they're dating again. "That would be...kind of fast, wouldn't it? I mean, you're so important to them, and they need you, but I don't know. Maybe we could just...hang?" "Like a sloth. I could do that." A sloth, really? That's the analogy you want? Rita laughs, and asks if Dexter wants to come to the beach with them on Saturday, and he thinks it sounds like a great idea. Rita takes a sip of her coffee, and recoils at its temperature. As Dexter fetches her some ice, he VOs, "I've been selfish, only thinking about what happens to me. But if I were ever revealed as the true Bay Harbor Butcher, Rita and her children would be destroyed." I think we get that, dude. I feel like you say something like that every episode. What, are you trying to catch newcomers up? Relax, bro, we get it: you being a serial killer has ramifications. Get over it, and get on with the killing already!
Deb steels herself, then knocks on LaGuerta's door. When LaGuerta doesn't answer, Deb goes in anyway. "Lieutenant?" she says sheepishly. "Yes, Morgan," Maria replies, already irritated at the sight of her. Deb shuts the door and approaches her desk, putting the file in front of her. "I need you to take a look at these." "I know what they are," she says, without even looking up from her paperwork. "You didn't report the call from Doakes," says Deb, her confidence building. "Your task force doesn't need my help railroading a good cop." Deb looks slapped in the face, but goes on: "Doakes was officially a person of interest. Not reporting that call could be considered aiding and abetting." "None of you wanted to hear what he had to say, so I didn't tell you." "What did he have to say?" "That he's innocent." "And you believe him?" "What do you think?" "And if he calls again?" "He won't." "And you know this --" "Because I know him." "I thought I knew someone, too," says Deb, referring to Rudy/Brian, I think. "I know him," Maria insists, going on to say that it's worth the risk, even if Deb wants to report her. "When you care about someone, you do what you have to do." Deb grabs the file back, and storms out.
In the BHB room, Lundy's projecting slides of Doakes's many different pieces of ID. Here's Freddy Caldwell, film student. And here's Joby Harris from L.A. James Duke is pretty good, because Doakes has hair. William Glass is the best one, though. Nice flat-top, Doakes! Lundy ruins the fun by talking: "Four different aliases, all issued by the DOD during Doakes's stint with the special forces." Lundy mentions that if Doakes uses any of them, they'll know it. "I remember when life was easy," VOs Dexter, "when the only question I worried about was 'Who's ?' Now it's, 'How can I dodge my protective detail?' 'What should I do with my hostage?' These are not easy questions." I should think not. Lundy wakes him out of it, asking for his blood-slide analysis. "Of the forty-six slides, eighteen belonged to previously known butcher victims. We're still running the DNA, but we've matched an additional twelve with felons in the criminal database, all reported missing." "We'll proceed on the assumption that these twelve were Bay Harbor victims." "That's a fair assumption," says Dex. Lundy asks Deb if she has the case files on the new victims, and she tells him coldly that it's not her jurisdiction. Oh, I see. Is somebody still holding a wittle gwudgy-wudge against Wundy-Bundy? Shut up, Deb. Angel steps in, saying he's got the goods. Apparently, each of the twelve new victims had at least one homicide on their records: "And we all know how the butcher loves a killer." As he distributes copies of his files, Lundy looks at Deb intensely, trying to read her. Angel continues to explain that "We're checking into their last-known whereabouts, and any connection that the criminal cases may have had with Sergeant Doakes." "Forensics," says Lundy. "Expect a steady stream of evidence seized from our suspect's apartment over the few hours. You're looking for any trace evidence that could connect him to these victims. Let's bring him in, folks!" Everyone breaks, including Deb. Lundy looks confused, but before he can say something, Dex approaches him. "Special Agent Lundy?" "Dexter. Is your sister all right?" "I wouldn't know," he replies, looking confused for a second. "I wanted to talk to you about my protective detail." Hmm.
Back out in the office, LaGuerta accosts Angel. "I heard you have twelve new Butcher victims." "Potential victims," he corrects. "Got names?" He silently hands her one of his files, and she asks if she can keep it. He leans in and whispers, "We're all working together now. Why, you gonna nail it on Doakes?" Without another word, LaGuerta pats Angel on the shoulder and heads back to her office. What's she up to? I don't like it. Angel also looks suspicious, but lets it go because she's his boss.
At the cabin, Doakes is struggling, trying to find a way to fuck with the integrity of the cage so he can bust out. He finds nothing, but then a phone begins to ring. Doakes spots the phone in a box on the table outside the cage, and I'm assuming it belongs to Jimenez. "Oh, yeah!" he says, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "That's good, that's real good." He loosens his belt, probably thinking he can hook the box and get the phone to call for help.
"This is a waste of time," says Masuka as he and Dexter look over evidence with a black light. "If Doakes is the butcher, we're not going to find trace evidence on his clothes. The guy we're after is way too careful for that." "I'd have to agree with you there," says Dex. "You think it could be Doakes?" asks Masuka. "It's not about what I think, it's all about the evidence." Thank you, Gil Grissom. "All the times he called me 'lab geek,' 'ferry-winkle,' 'donkey-fluffer.' I'm just glad I took it lying down, you know?" Dexter nods in agreement, feeling Masuka's pain. The door opens, and Deb comes in looking pissed. "What the fuck, Dex?" "What which fuck?" he asks. "You told Lundy to pull your protective detail?" Masuka chimes in, "Ooh, she's gonna hit you, isn't she?" "She's gonna hit someone if you don't get the fuck out of here," says Deb, not having any of Vince's shit today. Masuka heads out, telling Dex, "Hair-pulling may not be very manly, but it's effective." Whatever, Masuka, shut up. "Doakes fucking hates you, Dex," says Deb once Masuka's gone. "No doubt about that." "And he's a trained killer." "Which means if he wanted me dead, it would have happened by now." Deb isn't reassured by this, but Dex reinforces that Doakes isn't an idiot: "He won't come out of the shadows because of a grudge." "Right, because serial killers are so practical." "Actually, they are! Deb, I'm safer with Lundy's troops hunting Doakes than baby-sitting me. Lundy agrees." Deb brings her own shit into it, practically screaming that Lundy only cares about solving the case and moving on. "I thought he was a guy you could count on," says Dex, looking perplexed at Deb's outburst. "You are the only one I can count on, jackass," she says, and leaves. "Gotta give Deb credit for one thing: she knows how to express her feelings," Dex VOs.
Outside, his VO continues: "If I was convicted as the Butcher, she'd probably explode. It'd be a waste of a perfectly good cop. And sister. This isn't just about me anymore. It's about Deb. And Rita. And the kids." Well, fucking duh, dude. "I have only one choice for Doakes." Dexter gets in his car and takes off.
At the cabin, Doakes is using his belt to try to latch onto the box holding Jimenez's phone. After a few tries (and "muthafucka"s), he's able to spill the contents of the box towards him, a small victory. As he tries to grab the phone with the belt, he hears a car pulling up outside, and he quickly tosses his shirt on top of the phone, as if Dexter wouldn't notice what he's been up to right away. Dexter comes in quietly, and hands Doakes a water bottle through the cage's hole. "No reason for you to suffer." Doakes sucks down half the bottle immediately as Dexter gets out his killin' bag. "You come to a decision?" asks Doakes. "Yes, but I don't think you're going to like it." He opens up his bag to display his knives and instruments of death. Doakes's face looks as serious as a heart attack, and he says, "So, this is the way it ends." "Regardless of how we got here, one of the two killers in this cabin has to go away." "I am not a killer." "Right. In terms of who goes, it boiled down to a philosophical question: which one of us has more inherent worth?" "Ha, I know you're fucking kiddin' me," says Doakes, taking another large swig from the bottle. "First, I considered our value to the community, and that was a wash. We're both loyal civil servants. We work hard to keep the city clean." "You cut people up into little pieces --" "Then, I looked into our personal lives, and, well, that's where the differences became clearer. Strange as it may seem, I have people who depend on me. They would be devastated if they found out what I do. You, Sergeant, you're more of a lone wolf, easier to put down, no one in the pack to miss you." "Fuck you." There he is. "Fuck you, Morgan. I have a family, my mother and my sisters." "Who you never visit. It puts a pit in my stomach that I can only interpret as...sadness. If you had a personal life, you might not have made me your obsession, and we wouldn't be here right now."
Suddenly, Jimenez's phone beeps, and Dexter looks down at the shirt on the table. He gives Doakes a look, then moves the shirt to reveal the phone, which apparently has a new text message. "Jimenez, U missed our meet. What the fuck?" it reads. "Sergeant, why would you hide a dead drug dealer's cell phone from me?" asks Dex. "You workin' on an exit strategy? I'm afraid that's not gonna happen." After a pause, Doakes looks at Dexter and says, "If you want to bring me down, Morgan, you're gonna have to open this goddamn cage first. So come on, bring it!" "I already did," Dex replies. "You just didn't know it." Understanding dawns on Doakes's face as he looks at the water bottle in his hand. "Muthafucka," he whispers, the drugs instantly showing signs of taking effect. "The sedative works fast. It's probably best just to go with it." "You think you're a fuckin' hero, don't you? Cleanin' up the fuckin' streets. Your old man would be proud." "My old man was proud," says Dex. "He knew? He really was a fuckin' whackjob." This upsets Dexter, and he yells at Doakes for name-calling: "What's the point? Besides, my father was a legend on the force." "Is that what you think?" laughs Doakes, having already fallen to the ground. "They never told you." "Told me? Told me what?" Too late: Doakes has already passed out. Guess Dex'll have to hold off on killing Doakes if he wants to know the big secret. Hmm, I guess there really is something about Harry. ...Sorry.
Angel is losing about ten respect points per second, because he's over at Lila's loft, helping her paint (red, of course). His phone beeps, and he mentions he missed a call. "If it's Dextah, tell him to come ovah," says Lila. Angel checks his message, and smiles. Apparently, he has his daughter for the weekend, a luxury he's not used to, but something came up with his ex. "Delightful," says Lila, obviously not really caring. "But tonight, you belong to me!" Angel comes up behind her, trying to get intimate, but she shoves a paint roller in his face, and says, "And my walls!" He looks at her in a way that says, "I know you just cock-blocked me, but I don't care because you're hot, and I haven't had any in a while." Poor guy. She's totally gonna fuck with him somehow. I just hope she doesn't burn him to death.
Back at the cabin, Dexter moves an unconscious Doakes, and VOs, "Doakes said I have two choices: kill him or let him go." He holds up his big cleaver as though he's about to start chopping, but then pops the knife in Doakes's hand. "But he neglected to look behind door number three: hand him over to the FBI, gift-wrapped. I don't need Doakes dead, I just need his fingerprints to complete my frame-job." Dexter gets Doakes's prints on all of his utensils, then puts him back in the cage with some water and some protein bars. How thoughtful! "I almost forgot..." he says to nobody, and grabs a bucket for Doakes to...well, you know, shit and piss in. "One needs small comforts." Yeah, that thing doesn't look too comfortable to me, bro.
morning, Dexter walks down a long dock holding the same utensils he get Doakes's prints on. "Every Saturday, beginning dive classes practice underwater skills beside this dock. Tomorrow they'll find a morbid little surprise. When the Feds receive these kill tools, with their suspect's prints on them, the only threat to me will be the inane rants of a murderous madman." Dexter drops the tools into the water right beside the dock, looking around to make sure nobody's around. He turns around and takes off his sunglasses, closing his eyes and basking in the sun. "So close I can feel it. This tragic tale might still end in Doakes's demise, but not by my hands. Harry's legacy will remain intact." Dexter starts walking back to his car. "Harry. Why in the hell did Doakes have to bring up Harry?" Yeah, really. What does he know?
I'm assuming this flashback might shed some light on that. It's Deb's birthday, and she blows out the candles on her cake. She and Dexter are still wearing their awful wigs, so I'm assuming this is around the same time as the flashback. Everyone's smiling and laughing, and there's a knock at the door. Harry answers, and it's Matthews, who's still a lieutenant. Harry offers him a slice of cake, but Matthews demurs, because he needs to talk to Harry in private. They head to the kitchen, and Deb cuts a huge slice and hands it to Dexter. Her smile is wiped away when we hear Harry scream, "Dammit!" He smashes a beer bottle on the kitchen cabinet, and says, "Rainez is gonna walk because of a goddamn typo?" I hate to say it, but I feel like they could have used another couple of takes there. Remar's delivery on that line was pretty feeble. Matthews explains that there was faulty warrant, and that there's nothing they can do. Deb and Dex share a look. "This is bullshit!" "Harry, don't worry. Rainez will make another mistake!" "Yeah, right. We'll just wait for him to kill another girl!" Matthews makes his way out, wishing Deb a happy birthday as he exits. Deb heads to the kitchen to clean up the broken bottle as Harry sits down. Dex walks over to him. "You okay, Dad?" "I did the right thing in training you," he says intensely. "This just proves it. I did the right thing." Hmm...wonder if Harry wants Dex to do something for him?
Deb has arrived at the station, and is walking inside when Lundy stops her. "What's going on here?" "Nothing, according to you." "So, I said something?" he asks, not sure what he did wrong. "Only that this relationship has an expiration date." He looks hurt. "Hey, if you want to write it off before it even begins, you go ahead." "When did I say that?" "Yesterday morning, you said when the case ends, we end. I'm paraphrasing." Lundy explains that he thought she understood that he tracks killers for a living, and that they tend to move around: "I'm not sure what you thought would happen when the case ended." Deb says she hadn't thought about it, "but it looks like you have, so now I know. Consider me informed." Oh, Jesus. Always with the dramatics, this one! She brushes past him and heads inside. He looks like he has no idea what just happened.
Over at the snack stand, Dexter orders a hot dog, and sees Angel standing there, reading the paper. "How come there's never a circus when you need one," he asks Dex. "I don't know. I'm not sure I've ever felt that particular need." Heh. "What does a seven-year-old girl like?" "Astor likes CNN." Angel says that probably won't do it for his daughter, and explains that he has her all day Saturday, and is looking for something fun to do with her. Dex mentions that he and Rita and the kids are headed to the beach on Saturday, and Angel asks if he can tag along. Dexter looks unsure at first, but says, "Sure, I guess. We'll be there all afternoon." Then Dex notices something about Angel: "Sorry, but what's with the highlights?" Angel explains that he was helping Lila paint her place. "Red. The color of the pasión." "Yeah, about Lila. It's probably better for everyone if she doesn't come along on Saturday." "Bro, I'm not stupid. Look, Lila's like my after-hours project. Besides, she should stay off the beach, skin like that." Word; she is pretty pasty. Angel heads inside as Jimenez's phone, which Dexter is now carrying, beeps. He opens it up, and the new message reads, "Paid 4 my lift ticket. Where's my snow? Don't make me come after U." "Sounds like Mr. Harlow is not only master of metaphor, but also inclined toward violent confrontation. Better find out who he is in case I have to deal with him." Sounds like a plan, Dex.
Inside, Dexter does some research on this Harlow character. "Armed with a phone number, obtaining the mysterious text messager's ID wasn't too hard. But is he a threat?" Dexter finds that the guy, whose real name is Jose Garza, has been arrested for narcotics possession and armed robbery, and is "currently a fugitive from justice for murder. Approach with caution." Dex picks up the phone and texts, "Can you meet me at the cabin?" VO adds, "This guy could be trouble if he has knowledge of a certain cabin in the Everglades." Yes, he could. Harlow texts back, "What cabin? Where the fuck R U?" "I'm safe," Dex VOs. "Happy trails, Harlow."
Dex goes to visit Deb, who is looking through pictures of Erik King as a youngster. He creeps up behind her and says her name, startling her. "Fuck! Sneak much?" Dex apologizes, and then comments on a picture of Doakes sporting a huge 'fro. "That is some big hair." "Hard to believe he's our guy. Amazing how easy it is to hide who you are from people, huh?" "Not that easy," Dex says, pretty much to himself. "I was thinking about your birthday." "You've got, like, three months," says Deb, not knowing what he means. "Just get me a gift certificate at Amazon." "Good to know, but the birthday I was thinking about was when Dad threw the beer bottle." Deb looks at him, remembering, and says, "Jesus. Out of the blue, Dex. What brought that up?" He explains that Harry's been on his mind lately. "Matthews came over that night, right?" "Yeah, he and Dad got in a fight. I ended up wiping beer off the walls, happy birthday to me." Dexter recalls that a killer went free, and that would upset any cop: "Nothing weird about that, right?" "No, it was just another example of Dad's priorities: kid vs. case, case always won." Dex asks her if Harry ever said anything else about it to her, and she says, "Right, Dad sitting down with me to have a heart-to-heart. Not that I didn't want to." "Maybe you should have told him that." "Yeah, maybe." "Deb had it rough," Dex VOs. "Harry had his hands full, teaching me a trade." Dex leaves the room. "But was there something else going on with him, or was Doakes just trying to shake me up? I need to know if there's more to the story."
Oh, great. LMPMT is at the station. Dexter spots her, and immediately turns around before she spots him. "There's a complication I don't need." I guarantee she's gonna fuck some shit up before this season's done. Man oh man. Angel spots Lila, and walks up behind her, saying, "Hey, baby. What brings you back?" "I have two more walls at home, waiting for your expertise as a painter," she says absently, looking around for any sign of Dexter. Dude, what's she up to? What is she going to do to poor Angel? She gives me the willies. Angel explains that there's nothing he'd like to do more, but he's picking up his daughter in an hour: "We're meeting Dexter and Rita at the beach." Dammit, Angel. Don't tell her that! "You know, I have a friend at Miami Art Museum who teaches an incredible children's class," she says. "You can bring the whole gang, if you like!" "You mind if I take a rain check?" he says. "You know, with your history with Dexter, it might be a little awkward. He's trying to work things out with Rita." "Oh, is he, now?" she says with an empty smile, and quickly, she's on her way out, telling Angel to have a great day and to "watch out for those sand fleas." Nutbar! Just sayin'! Don't do it, Angel. Fucking settle that! "Damn, she'd better be worth it," he says to himself once she's gone. Angel, no! Bad Angel! She's totally not. Oh, boy.
Dexter's back at the cabin, again. I'm sorry, but isn't the drive from Miami to the Everglades, like, two hours? This is getting silly. Just kill him, Dexter! ...Actually, no, don't. I like Doakes's character, and I hope he doesn't die. But I wouldn't mind seeing him taken down a peg. Anyway, Dexter enters the cabin, and Doakes is on the floor, drinking one of his bottles of water. "What was that shit last night? Some kind of fuckin' scare tactic?" "You said something, before you passed out, about my father. What was it?" "I don't know, what was it? I was kind of drugged at the time." Heh, true. Dexter leans down and says, "Don't test me, Sergeant." I think it's interesting that Dexter's still calling him "Sergeant." Maybe he needs to maintain the structure of the workplace so that he can look at Doakes more as a superior than as a human. Or maybe he's just used to calling him that. Anyway, Dex continues, "I could have killed you. I didn't." "You didn't because you can't. I've had time to think about this, Morgan. I don't fit that code you were talkin' about, do I? At first, I thought The Butcher only went after criminals, because nobody gives a goddamn what happens to 'em, but now...now, I think you've got a conscience." Dexter begins to lose his patience: "Of course I have a conscience! I left you a place to shit, didn't I?" Dexter begins to pace around the cabin, and Doakes observes that Dex is "actually angry. I've never seen you angry, Morgan. This is good." "What did you say about Harry?" asks Dex, completely ignoring Doakes. "I believe the words 'whack job' were involved." "Oh, yeah," says Doakes with a laugh. "Is that what you're worried about, man? I guess it would bother me, too, if it were my old man." "Sergeant?" "Okay, what the fuck. You know how I've been looking into your past, right?" Dexter mentions that that's why Doakes is in his current predicament. "Well, I found something I wasn't supposed to see. It's about your father's death." "Heart disease, big mystery," says Dex. "No, the mystery's bigger than that, and someone up high didn't want it solved." Dexter studies his face for a long moment, then says, "You're lying." "It was buried deep, but it was there." "What was there?" Doakes stands up in the cage and stretches out, then says, "Why don't we go outside and talk about this, man, I could use some fresh air." He and Dexter actually share a laugh at the total absurdity of the situation, but Dex sobers up rather quickly and tells Doakes that ain't happening. "Well, then, the mystery remains," says Doakes, knowing that this is one of the few bargaining chips he has left. "I'm sure special ops taught you to rattle your captor, but I should warn you, Sergeant, you can't play on my feelings. I don't have any." Bullshit! Doakes calls him out: "Oh, really? Who's lyin' now?" Yeah, Dexter, who's lyin' now?
Matthews tees off, and tells the ball to sit down. Somewhat satisfied with his shot, he turns around to see Dexter approaching. "Well, hello, Dexter." Dexter addresses him as Captain, but Matthews insists on being called Tom. "You start your round yet?" he asks Dex. "I'm afraid Bay Shore is a little outside my pay scale." Matthews gives a chuckle and asks Dexter what brings him out. Dex comes right out with it: "I want to know if there was anything unusual about my father's death." Matthews tells his golf buddies to go ahead without him, and he and Dexter take a walk. At first, he works the "his heart gave out" line, but Dexter says he heard there was more to it than that. "From whom?" "Does it matter?" "I guess it was inevitable you'd find out, one of these days. You know, Harry was a good friend. He was a great cop. But, it's a tough job, and it can wear on even the best of us." "My father was always firmly in control," says Dexter, probably trying to convince himself. Matthews agrees, to an extent: "But towards the end...look Dexter, they system doesn't always work. Sometimes, they get away, you know that. That just got harder and harder for Harry to deal with. That's what did him in in the end." "What did? What am I missing, here?" Matthews waits for a second, thinking of how best to put it, then finally just says it: "He killed himself, Dexter." Whoa. Dexter asks how, and Matthews reveals that Harry's autopsy showed an OD on his ticker meds. Dexter tries to rationalize, saying that people accidentally overdose all the time, but Matthews tells him that Harry called him the day before, asking him to keep an eye on Deb and Dex. "I didn't realize what that call meant, until he was gone, so I made sure that autopsy never saw the light of day. I was looking out for the two of you." Dexter looks pretty devastated, and Matthews tells him earnestly how sorry he is. He offers to take Dexter into the clubhouse for a drink, so they can talk some more, but Dexter says no and walks away. "The legendary Harry Morgan, force for justice, architect of all that I am. Suicide. It doesn't make sense."
Lundy's sitting on a bench outside the station, looking over Doakes's files, when LaGuerta approaches. "I have good news," she says. "I could use it," he replies. "Whaddya got?" "Proof," she says, "that James Doakes can't possibly be the Bay Harbor Butcher." She hands him a notebook, which he takes with a weary look. He opens the notebook as LaGuerta explains that it contains her fastidious notes from a stakeout that she and Doakes worked together. "Very detailed," Lundy comments. "We were doing surveillance when one of your new victims went missing. James and I were holed up in a motel room twenty-four seven for two weeks. He didn't have time to piss, let alone abduct and murder a man." Lundy tells her that he respects her compassion for her friend, "but I'm afraid this proves nothing." He hands her the notebook. "No, it proves that he was with me!" Lundy stops her, and explains that despite the thoroughness of her notes, he can't use them. "You can't just ignore legitimate evidence!" she shouts. "I can, and I will ignore it, because you gave me no choice, lady! Those are your personal logs, and your credibility was compromised the second you failed to report a phone call from the subject of a goddamned FBI manhunt!" He goes on to tell her she breached protocol and ethics, and she's lucky he doesn't charge her with anything. She looks ashamed. "What really pisses me off? You might be right, but in trying to protect your friend, you blew the best shot we had at bringing him in from the cold. Come back to me if you find evidence I can use." Yeah, tell her, Lundy! LaGuerta really screwed the pooch on this one.
It's beach day, and Angel is chasing the kids around, pretending to be a monster of some kind. They pass Dex and Rita, who are sitting, and the winded Angel tags Dexter to take his place. Dexter doesn't get up. "I tagged you!" says Angel, hoping for some relief. "So?" "So you're a monster now!" "Really?" says Dexter listlessly. Dexter apologizes, using his "tight leg" as an excuse while the kids taunt Angel in the background. Angel, resigned, continues to give chase, leaving Rita and Dex to talk. "It's too soon, isn't it?" she asks. "For this? Us." "No, Rita, that's not it at all." Knowing something isn't right, she asks, "Then what is it?" He looks her in the eyes and looks very vulnerable. "I always thought my father died of heart disease," he says. "I just found out that's not true. He committed suicide." "Oh, God," she says, putting a comforting hand on his neck. Dexter says he doesn't understand why Harry would do that to himself, "or me." Rita presses her forehead against Dexter's, and they sit like that for a little while. God, she's tasty. Hey, Lila hasn't shown up! She must be up to something...
Dexter's driving alone, and he VOs, "Whatever Harry did, and why, I can't let it distract me from my mission. Not when freedom is so close." He gets another text from Harlow that reads, "Found out where your cabin is. On my way. I want my fucking snow!" "Shit." Dexter pulls over the car. "No one appreciates uninvited house guests. Unless I can make the problem part of my solution." Dexter pulls out the phone and texts Harlow back: "Got your snow. Meet me behind my bar in one hour. Alone." Uh oh! I got a feelin' there's some doings a-transpirin'!
I knew Lila was up to something. Down at some local basketball courts, she meets up with a guy who's very obviously a drug dealer. "Are you Chad?" she asks. He gives her the standard "depends on what you're looking for" response. She says her friend told her to come to him to get rohypnol. "Roofies? You?" he says, astounded. Can't say I blame him. "Just not my normal kind of customer, you know what I mean?" "Oh, do stop talking!" she says, exasperated. He gives her the pills, and she leaves. "Good luck with that!" he calls after her. What a douche. Yes, both of them.
Deb meets Lundy at an outside restaurant, and being the chivalrous gentleman that he is, Lundy pulls out her chair and seats her. "Thanks for coming," he says. Her demeanor is frosty, and she doesn't say anything. "I thought we should talk," he says. "No, I should talk," she replies. "I mean, I yell a lot. I bitch and complain, and I keep expecting people to just guess what I want, but I never really say it." "I'd like to hear it." Deb explains that when he asked her what she thought would happen when the case ended, she had no idea. "That was...exciting, you know? The not knowing. What could happen, what could be. It was all...possibility. And when you just assumed that we ended when the case ended, you crushed that." Lundy looks down at his place setting. "I want it back." He asks her if she knows what he thought. "What?" "I thought the novelty of my AARP discount would wear off and you'd get tired of me." "Oh my God. That's the sweetest thing you've ever said!" They share a chuckle, and look each other in the eyes, smiling. Lundy's phone rings, and he has no option but to answer it. After a moment, he says, "We're on our way," and hangs up. "What do we got?" "A hit on one of Doakes's IDs at a car rental agency." They head out. Good thing they didn't get their appetizers.
Angel is doing some more painting at Lila's place, and she comes down from the loft carrying a bottle of wine and a couple glasses. "My hero," she says. "This place looks like brand new!" "It's my pleasure," he tells her, "though I feel a little loopy from the fumes." Lila hands him a glass of wine, and asks him how the beach was. Angel says the kids wore him out: "You ever try running in the sand?" "I never run. You're a better man than me." "I'm glad you think so," he says, taking a sip. "Mmm, and how are Dexter and Rita?" "Things are good for them. I mean, I think they're going to work things out." Lila takes a large swig straight from the bottle, and laughs a manic laugh. She grabs Angel by the arm and drags him up to the loft flirtatiously, and I'm really worried, because I have no idea what she's got planned with those roofies. "You know, I've been trying to hold off, but I don't want to anymore." She removes her dress, exposing her boobs. "I think it's time. I need you." Oh, boy. They start making out, and Angel says, "You can have me!" "Thing is, I like it rough." Oh, no! Dude, if she stages a rape, that is just too fucking far. I mean, she's already gone too far, but that? Ugh. And to do it to Angel? Man, I really hope that's not what she's doing.
The door of the cabin swings open with a bang, and Dexter comes in carrying Harlow's limp body. "Who the fuck is that?" asks Doakes, startled. "Some guy I picked up in a bar," answers Dexter. "He's a known murderer, and your final victim!" Dexter starts prepping his equipment. "You're not doing what I think you are!" "There's no point in hiding it now, Sergeant. Your life is going to rest in the hands of the criminal justice system that you've put all your faith in. I wish you the best of luck." "Come on, Morgan! We were just gettin' somewhere, you and me! You ain't gotta do this!" Dexter explains that this is the only way for him to go, and excuses himself to go get more supplies.
Angel finishes up, and he and Lila lie back together for a moment. "You are a very bad girl," he says. "I'm only just getting started, baby," she says, getting dressed. She heads to the bathroom, telling him she'll be right back. Once in the bathroom, she busts out the roofies and slams them down, chasing them with wine. Outside, Angel gets a beer from the fridge when he hears a crash. He runs to the bathroom and sees her passed out. "Jesus!" He makes a call to get an ambulance. That crazy bitch. She's totally going to frame him! And the "rough sex" is going to read on a rape kit like an assault. Great. Just fucking great. What an asshole!
Dexter's taping up the plastic wrap around Doakes's cage. "There's no way people are going to believe I did this," says Doakes, pissed. "You were U.S. Special Forces. I'm sure you have done this." Doakes says wartime circumstances are much different than cold-blooded killing. "I'm sure that made things easier for you," says Dex. As Dex is about to close off the cage with plastic, Doakes pleads with him. "Morgan, this is some sick fuck ritual, you need help!" "Don't worry, Sergeant, I won't make you watch. I'm not uncivilized." He covers the cage, over Doakes's protests. "You don't have to kill this man!" "This man is a felon with a body count! He brought it on himself!" Doakes implores Dexter to turn the guy in to the law, but Dex responds that he lives by Harry's law, and starts cutting. Blood pools at the base of the cage, and Doakes looks distraught.
A while later, Dexter is stacking the garbage bags filled with Harlow's remains. He takes the plastic off of Doakes's cage. Doakes is sitting with his back to the room, looking vacant. "Sorry it had to go down like this, Sergeant, but there really was no other way." He gets no response. "Sergeant?" "Stay away. Just stay away from me." "I've heard those words before," Dex VOs, "three days before my father's death." Flashback?
Yes! Mop-topped Dex is cutting up a victim, and Harry walks in. He looks like he just walked in on Dexter masturbating. "Oh, hey Dad," says Dexter hopefully. "Look what I did!" he says, walking around the body. "It's Juan Rainez, the pimp who killed that girl. I finally got him for you." Harry looks broken, like something in him has snapped. He looks at the body for a minute, then at Dexter. He turns around and pukes orange chunks, which is gross. "Dad?" says Dexter, coming to Harry's side. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" "Just stay away, please. Stay away." Dexter looks back at the body, a confused look on his face.
"It was me," VOs Dexter, slowly backing away from the cage. "The idea of a code was one thing. A grand idea. A noble cause. But the reality of it...Harry walked in on what he created, and he couldn't live with himself." Dexter stands there, staring into space, as Doakes turns around in his cage. "What, Morgan? What now?" "I killed my father."