Computerized map of US. Blip at New Orleans, Louisiana. Camera pans from kids playing innocently in the park to Kimble hunched over furtively at a payphone. Oh, the -- yawn -- irony. He's talking to Chuck/Krakow. Kimble mutters, "Is it safe to talk?" Krakow says, "I'm on a digital phone, just to be sure." Kimble tells him they can't be too careful. Krakow spouts out some mumbo-jumbo about switching ISPs blah blah blah I-read-PC Computing-cakes.
Kimble does the Exposition Dance and tells Chuck/Krakow he needs his help, that he's tracked down One-Arm (the artist formerly known as Ben Charnquist) and his widow to New Orleans. C/K expresses surprise at One-Arm having a wife. Kimble tells C/K Renee's address, and tells C/K he's been following her but hasn't "made contact yet." His dialogue is interspersed with shots of Glenne Headley getting her mail (all bills marked Overdue), going to work, et cetera. Apparently, she works a 9-to-5 job in the file room of some oil company, since applying her Kabuki-white, three-inch-thick mask of makeup obviously requires a lot of money for upkeep.
Apparently, all the writers for The Fugitive were ex-4H members, because Kimble is forced to stumble from the Exposition Dance into the Local Color dance. He tells us he saw Renee go to Charnquist's grave on All Saints' Day, which is a Louisiana tradition where everyone honors their dead. C/K points out that it sounds like Renee believes One-Arm is dead; otherwise she would've changed her name and been harder to find. Kimble says he has to be sure. He asks C/K to hack into her phone records and make sure she's clean. C/K gets his own Exposition Dance solo and says, "You mean to see if she's gotten any calls from Chicago, or Miami, or Maine -- anywhere we know the one-armed man has been." C/K pauses and asks what Kimble will do if she's not in cahoots with him. Kimble says, "She can give me his past."
It's nighttime now, and Renee exits her office. She starts walking home. A co-worker offers to escort her through the quarter, but she says, "Ah'll be fahne!" There's enough wilting magnolia in her accent to choke Vivien Leigh. Of course, she gets followed by Kimble. The crowds thin out, and the requisite local thugs start looking for work on the C.S.I. soundstage. Kimble's really inept job of trailing her is interrupted by a ponytailed guy who jumps in front of him. He starts walking after Renee very rapidly. She notices she's being followed. She runs. Ponytailed guy grabs her arm/purse. Kimble fights him off, and they run away. What is this, the fucking Hardy Boys?
Renee says, "Thank you. I'm so lucky you were there." Kimble says solemnly, "It wasn't luck, Renee." Renee, instead of kneeing him in the sack and running like hell, says, "You know my name? Who are you?"