By Daniel
Savino's Tumbleweed plans are continuing apace, working with the Mormon banker who's less than a stickler for the moral character of his business partner. But the Mormons do want to see that Vincent is a good family man, which means Mrs. Savino is on her way. They have what appears to be an arm's-length marriage, in the sense that Laura doesn't want to know anything about the dirty business he does. He tries to sell her on the legitimacy of his new project and of the opportunities that abound in the desert. She mostly falls for it, too, at least until she notices the bullet holes in the upholstery of her husband's car. Still, she dutifully plays the good wife for Savino at the country club, sealing the deal; given what a focus that was of the episode, I found it more than strange that we didn't actually get to see that scene, but I imagine Chiklis and Quaid in a producer's war every week, ensuring they each get equal amounts of screentime.
Much like Skyler White on Breaking Bad, she demands he keep no more secrets from her, a promise I'm not sure he's actually willing to keep. He's dealing with the Milwaukee fallout of whacking Davey Cornaro. The Happy Days mob sends an enforcer named Jones to come look for him, a bespectacled, formally mannered and affected thug that seems like a lite (in more ways than one) version of The Wire's Brother Mouzone. Savino orders his crew to make it appear that Cornaro skipped town so as not to touch off a gang war between Chicago and Laverne and Shirley. They plant Cornaro's car at the airport (after having the poor honest chop-shop owner put it back together), successfully fooling him and putting the police off the trail of Cornaro's disappearance too. Well, except for Ralph, of course. The discovery of corn in the car's axle or fuel tank or spark plug or whatever makes him decide Cornaro is buried in a cornfield, which is great, because there has to be a couple Savino-Lamb glare-offs in every episode.
But the centre of the episode is the kidnapping of the son of a member of the gaming commission. It's handled a little melodramatically -- the slow motion revolution of the boy's hula hoop, dropped by his mother when she sees a rogue pool-cleaner make off with her -- but is mostly compelling, apart from the problem that you're never convinced Ralph and his men aren't going to rescue the kid. There's a shootout at a motel, and then Ralph poses as the boy's uncle -- who turns out to have orchestrated the kidnapping for cash to convince his brother-in-law to grant a gaming license to a casino that can't get it honestly -- to exchange the money for the boy. That would have gone south -- the kidnappers intended to kill both the uncle and the boy -- if not for Jack's sharpshooting. Not along for the gunplay: Dixon. Despite his growing aptitude for police work -- and in Vegas, that can put you in the path of the mob -- Ralph is more and more reluctant to let him out in the field. “I'm his father, you're his uncle. It's different,” Ralph tells Jack when Jack sticks up for Dixon.
The kidnapped boy's father -- played by serial-drama stalwart and fan favorite Greg Grunberg -- is naturally effusive in his gratitude, perhaps convincing Ralph that this town does, in fact, need him, as the mayor tells him at the outset. Hizzoner wants Ralph to put his name up to take over the job permanent-like (not to mention lend his support to the mayor) but Ralph's not committing just yet, fearing that the thing the mayor says makes him a good sheriff -- the way crimes eat at him, keeping him up at night -- will change him into a different person. Vegas, writ small.
Daniel is a writer in Newfoundland with a wife and a daughter. His general rule is that if you save his life by shooting someone in the back, you get to accompany him everywhere. Follow him on Twitter (@DanMacEachern) or email him at danieljdaniel@gmail.com.