Since 1970, the Federal Witness Protection Program
has relocated thousands of witnesses,
some criminal, some not,
to neighborhoods all across the country.
Every one of those individuals shares a unique attribute
distinguishing them from the rest of the general population.
And that is, somebody wants them dead.
Me and you and you and me
No matter how we tossed the dice
It had to be
What? Nothing.
Keep your eyes on the road, you.
You two are making me car sick.
Oh, yeah? I can't wait until you have kids
and they think you're a ridiculous old fool.
Sorry to ruin your fun but I'm not having kids.
What? The world's already overpopulated.
You bite your tongue.
You're giving me grandbabies. Or else.
Or else what?
Or else I'll have to have some more babies of my own.
Why are we stopping?
Well, Petey's sick. And I promised Dominick
I'd drop off some stuff for him.
All right.
Try and hurry, because if not, we don't get a good spot, Frank.
Don't worry. I'll just be a minute. Not even.
Tell Petey I hope he feels better.
Will do.
And you. Don't screw with me.
You're going to give me grandchildren, you hear me?
Yes, Mom.
That's right.
Oh, God.
How does that fat bastard get up and down those stairs every day?
Who is it?
It's Captain Kangaroo.
Frankie, is that you?
Yeah, yeah. It's Frankie. Come on. Come on. I'm in a hurry, Petey.
Yo, Frankie!
Hey, Petey. I got a delivery for you from Dominick.
Oh, yeah? Yeah.
Petey?
Where are you?
Are you dead?
Oh, no.
Oh, my...
I have no idea how that happened.
Stand clear! Police. All right, move it back.
All aboard the southwest train service to Los Angeles.
With stops in Dallas, Flagstaff...
Now boarding.
It is so beyond retarded.
First of all, we don't say retarded anymore.
Don't even think about parking there.
U.S. Marshals.
The car better be here when we get back.
And second, it's not retarded. It's marketing.
Then, it's retarded marketing.
Look. Imagery and metaphor...
Oh, thank God.
Hey. What's up?
It seems your sister would prefer someone else pick her up.
What? Put her on.
Mary would like a word.
Hey.
Don't "hey" me. What the hell do you think you're doing?
Nothing. But there's no way in hell I'm taking a ride from some
Rico Suave wannabe I've never even seen before.
BRANDl.: Why can't you pick me up?
Because I'm working. All the way on the other side of town.
But I'm your sister.
Hey. You know what? You can either accept my friend's generous offer
or start walking.
Fine. I'll take the ride.
You do that.
Here.
Problems?
Brandi got in this morning.
For my surprise party, no doubt.
My condolences. Now, as I was saying.
Imagery and metaphor have been used to sell products forever.
Please, Jesus. Take me, now.
Take the Ford Mustang for instance.
Named for a powerful, agile animal.
Qualities we also seek in an automobile. It's called transference.
Yeah. Okay. What about my Probe?
Exactly what image is that supposed to transfer?
Because all I'm getting is paper dress,metal stirrups and legs akimbo.
Exactly what was the thought process behind that marketing coup?
Say, Bob. What's a metaphor for an invasive, somewhat humiliating procedure?
Because we really need something to compete with the Chevy Speculum.
God, why am I eating this crap?
You going to be like this all day?
What? Like...
You know.
I guess it depends how long it's going to be my birthday.
All day. There you go.
Here we go.
It's a common misconception that membership
in the fraternity of good fellas
is a prerequisite for admission into
the Federal Witness Protection Program.
God. If only that were true.
Many witnesses are everyday folk,
who, through no criminal enterprise of their own,
have come to possess damning info about some very dangerous people.
These unlucky losers are trouble magnets, and should be avoided whenever possible.
Thanks.
Uh-huh.
Which, in my line of work is almost never.
A ticket? Are you kidding me?
The car's still there, ain't it?
Ass-wipe.
It's all right. We'll take care of you. You're safe.
So, this is how we're transporting witnesses now?
It's a metaphor.
Oh, yeah? For what? Crap? Let's go. Go on.
You're welcome.
So, welcome to Albuquerque. Is this your first time?
Da. Uh, yes.
How long you been in the States?
Three years. In New York.
Well, this is a far cry from Manhattan. And a universe from Moscow.
I am from Kiev.
You speak Russian.
A little. I learned it in the eighties when you guys were still Commies.
In Ukraine, we speak Ukrainian.
Um...
Shut up.
Hi, Stan.
Hi, Mary. It's Stan.
I know it's you, Stan. That's why I said, "Hi, Stan. "
Oh. Right. So did you pick up the witness?
Yeah, we're on the way to the apartment now.
Listen. I just got a call from Albuquerque PD and, uh...
Oh, boy.
"And, uh, oh, boy" what, Stan?
I know that tone. Something happened.
Yeah. Frankie Santoro's kid might have been shot last night.
What? Where? Is he dead?
I said "might," all right? Might.
They found a body on one of those development sites out the Pan Am Freeway.
I'm on my way.
That's one choice. But bringing a witness to the murder site of another witness
violates at least six codes of conduct.
I know what you're doing. You're holding the phone out the window.
Stan, I can't hear you! You're breaking up!
She's holding the phone out the window. Mary, you listen to me.
Stan?
I absolutely...
Change of plans.
Frankie Santoro's kid may have been hit last night.
I've got to see for myself.
What about...
She's coming with.
Fun.
Hi, Stan.
Marshall...
What? I'm sorry, Stan. You're breaking up.
Frankie Santoro, aka Frankie Nuts,
a nickname not bestowed for his love of filberts,
earned his ticket into witness protection by agreeing to testify
against his former boss, Dominick Mastro,
last of the big-time Dons.
Frankie had the misfortune of whacking Petey Lorusso
while he was under FBI surveillance,
which coincidentally was also Petey's misfortune.
Wow. Just like the motion pictures.
Can I get you something? A bromo?
Tasha, just stay in the car. This will just take a few minutes.
Okay.
Please don't let this be Frankie's kid.
Should I call Jinx now and tell her to cancel your party?
If you were any kind of friend, you would have done that a long time ago.
You the lead on this?
Yeah, unfortunately.
Detective Dershowitz.
Dershowitz? Really?
Yeah, long story.
I'll bet.
Everyone calls me Bobby. Or Bobby D.
Mary Shannon, U.S. Marshals.
So, why did you call the Marshals, Detective?
Well, we got two dead kids. We have a girl named Sienna Burke, over there.
And a boy with this in his wallet.
And this.
It was tucked behind the other one.
Kid with two identities. It occurred to me he might be in Witness Protection.
You got all that from a fake ID?
Yeah. I'm intuitive that way.
All right, thanks.
Uh... that's evidence.
Uh-huh. So, any thoughts about what happened?
And you're asking me, what, out of professional curiosity?
Sure, let's go with that.
Well, the girl's father is Cale Burke.
He's the developer of this land,
a project that's been contested in and out of court for about a decade.
By whom?
You name it. Local Indians, business groups, zero growth nuts.
And you think somebody unhappy about the project might have done this?
Aw. Hell if I know. But it's a place to start, right?
Unless, of course, you think I should be looking someplace else.
Nope. Sounds to me like you're heading in the right direction.
Yeah, that's what I thought.
Thanks for the call. Mmm-hmm.
Hey.
What's with the silent sentinels?
Huh?
The guys on the bikes.
Oh, they've been watching all morning.
They make all these tracks?
Yeah, probably.
And you're not questioning them because...
Well, because chasing Indians on dirt bikes
through the desert seems like a poor use of my talent.
Makes sense.
Hey. How about it? He one of yours?
Afraid I don't know what you're talking about.
But thanks again for the call.
That's right. You're the branch of law enforcement
that puts criminals back on the street, right?
It's Santoro's kid.
For sure?
If this is who's lying under that sheet.
Oh, God.
What a waste.
Hey. Don't touch that.
Can't you shut his eyes?
Only if you got a needle and thread.
Any thoughts on why he gets it in the back of the head, and she gets hers in the face?
She was running. Took two in the spine, taking out her legs.
Then, they turned her over.
And finished her off in the face?
Not quite.
Good God.
Somebody was pissed off.
This goes way beyond pissed off.
She was alive for most of this.
So, you think this was a message to Frankie Senior?
I don't know. That kind of violence, you've got to believe she was the target.
Plus, if they find Junior, they found Senior. So, why not just take Frankie out?
Why not just take Frankie out?
Unless they don't want him dead.
Maybe they just want him to queer his testimony.
That could hurt a case worse than him not showing up.
Please stop that.
Then again, anyone who knows Frankie
knows killing his kid is not the way to motivate him.
So, you think he's not going to be happy about this?
Have you noticed I'm not in a joking mood?
Sorry.
I've got to go find Frankie.
Tasha. I told you to wait in the car.
It was so hot in there.
Okay. It's okay. Come on. Let's get you home.
Aw. That makes me sad.
Why are we stopping here?
Just stay in the car, and don't touch anything.
No. Hey! Wait! No.
Hey, amigo. Qué pasa?
Yo, G. Todo bien?
What's up?
Just keep an eye on the ride for me.
Make sure nothing bad happens to the car or to her.
Mostly, to the car.
All right.
Hey, mami! What's cracking?
You want to "F" off?
Here you go, Padre. Twenty tickets for Wednesday night.
Bleachers.
So, did you take her to my house?
Not exactly.
Raph, what did you do?
I left her sitting in my car in front of the youth center
with a couple of junior cholos scoping her out.
She's totally freaking out.
You did that?
Yeah. Pretty funny, huh?
Oh, yeah. But not the way you think.
What's that mean?
It means my sister has a penchant for boosting cars.
A penchant?
More like a compulsion.
Son of a bitch.
I thought I told you to watch the car.
We did, ese.
Yeah, G. There it go.
Mary. You better come pick me up.
Ah, I'm sorry, I can't hear you. You're breaking up.
Brandi.
Oh, Lord.
Just a second.
Okay.
Phone works.
No. No, no, no. I wish to go home.
This is your home, now.
No! No! No!
Please. It's not possible!
Tasha. Tasha. Tasha! Listen to me.
You can't go back. You can never go back.
You know what they'll do to you.
I am just bookkeeper!
I know.
I know. I know.
Let it out.
Okay. Okay. It's okay. Let it out.
How this can happen?
My life. My... family.
Everything gone.
They don't even let me bring pictures.
I know. It isn't fair. But listen to me.
You did a great, courageous thing, testifying. Okay?
And now, it's time to focus on the future.
Think of it as a chance to build a whole new life.
Even better than the one you had before.
But you cannot,
under any circumstances, no matter how homesick or lonely you get,
go back home.
Or contact anyone from your past.
Do you understand?
No one in your new life can ever know your old identity. Okay?
Boyfriends, coworkers, no one.
And if you...
If you think for a minute that someone recognizes you, you have to call me immediately.
Is all this clear?
That girl... on ground. She was witness?
No.
No. No.
She had nothing to do with witness protection.
Sweetie, trust me.
You're going to be okay.
In the history of the Witness Protection Program,
no one who's followed the rules has ever been harmed.
As long as you do as I say, nothing bad will happen to you.
You can do this. Okay? I know you can.
Come on. Come on. Stand up.
How about you rest for a little while, watch some T.V.
Cable's not hooked up, yet.
Yeah, all right. I'll, um... I'll get the cable turned on.
And a little later, I'll come by with some groceries.
Is there anything special you need?
It's okay.
Take your time.
Uh...
They promise me new breasts.
When I can get them?
No. Between one and five isn't good enough, Federico.
Our friend needs her cable on now.
So, get it done or we're switching to satellite.
You think that's funny?
How about we switch to satellite, then I punch you in the face?
She's home now. I'll tell her you're on your way.
So, anyway. If you could start processing info.
Little Frankie, the girl, her father.
Friends and family of everyone Frankie's testifying against.
Whatever else you can think of.
Please.
You know, I'm not your assistant.
I have a couple dozen witnesses of my own to deal with.
Oh, yeah? Any of their kids get murdered last night?
I'll have to check.
Oh, fine. Thank you.
Pissy little girl.
I heard that!
I don't give a rat's ass about your protocol.
I've got two parents on their way down here to see their son.
And trust me on this one. This is not where you want them to find him.
Then you better keep them out of here, because a van full of illegals
plowed into a bridge abutment this morning.
And I'm under-staffed. I won't know which one of these is yours
until I start processing them.
Yeah? Well, how long is that going to take?
As long as it takes.
Look. Well, work quickly.
Frankie.
Where is he? Come on. Come on back inside.
Is one of these Frankie?
Please, just come back inside.
Is my boy in one of these bags?
Frankie.
Hey. Excuse me. Sir, you cannot... Hey!
Hey! Frankie! Frankie!
Oh, my God.
Where's my boy? Where's my boy?
Frankie, stop it. Frankie. Frankie.
Frankie stop it! Stop it!
Get off me! Do not put your hands on me!
Felicia. Felicia. Oh, my God.
Felicia.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
Frankie, wait.
Frankie?
Frankie? Frankie!
Frankie, wait!
What? What do you want?
Don't "what" me. I know you. I know what you're thinking.
Oh, congratulations. You're the Amazing freaking Kreskin.
I have no idea who that is. But listen to me.
If you go off gunning for whoever did this,
you're going to blow your whole plea agreement.
Did you just see my boy in there?
I know, Frankie. I know. I'm so sorry.
But Felicia needs you now. Okay?
Please. Please, go take care of her.
I swear to you. You'll get your justice.
You got 24 hours.
After that, I take matters into my own hands and to hell with this plea.
Frankie. As far as justice,
you got your version, I got mine.
What are you doing here?
I work here, Stan.
Why aren't you helping Mary move Frankie Nuts?
She wanted me here doing this.
And you thought it was okay to let her handle that sick bastard by herself?
Her witness. Her call. It how we do, G.
If anything happens to her...
Relax.
Mary knows what she's doing.
So, did you get her a birthday present?
I'm working her case. You don't think that's enough?
Even you're not that dumb.
I'm smart enough to know you can't shop for Mary.
What about you?
Oh. Well, I just got her a, uh...
Bottle of really expensive perfume.
Mary doesn't wear perfume.
Yes, she does.
Uh-uh.
You sure? I mean, she always smells so good.
That's just her.
Huh.
I can't believe you're putting us in this place.
I'm sorry. I wish it were nicer,
but discretionary spending isn't what it used to be.
Why can't we go home?
I need to go home to plan Frankie's funeral.
I promise I'll get you home as soon as I can. Okay?
Whoever did this to little Frankie is still out there.
Until we know otherwise, I have to assume he's coming for you next.
Let him come.
This is on you, Frank.
I've got to ask you, Frankie.
Do you know anything about this?
No.
Of course, you would never lie to me.
All right, then.
Stay in the room with your wife and let me do my job.
Well, you've got about 23 hours.
And then, I assure you, I will do my job.
The care and feeding of career criminals like Frankie Nuts
is a dicey proposition at best, more art than science,
requiring a closet full of hats.
On any given day, I get to play mother, father, best friend,
priest, rabbi, marriage counselor, employment agent, bodyguard.
And, yes, unfortunately, occasionally homicide detective.
Which is why I find myself driving my misogynist metaphor
across the desert in the 110 degree heat with a busted air conditioner
to hunt down the murderer of the son of my murderer witness.
No back-up. No plan to speak of. No alternative.
Also, Frankie Junior got killed on my watch. That just pisses me off.
Nice chaps.
Aw.
Oh, come on, fellows. What do you say we turn those frowns upside down, huh?
Write down your customers' names.
I've never seen these people before.
Listen.
Here's the deal. Two kids were killed about a mile from here.
And at least a few of these guys were at the murder site.
So, please.
Save us both a lot of trouble and just write the damn names
before Great White Father back in Washington goes all Little Bighorn on your ass.
You're kidding me, right?
Was that over the top? Too much?
I kind of suck at that whole bad cop thing.
Look. First of all,
it was you guys that got your asses kicked at Little Bighorn.
Really?
And second of all, today's my first day of work here.
And I have really never seen these people before.
Sorry. I thought you were being difficult.
Excuse me.
Good lord.
What is it with men's restrooms?
Do you all like the smell of stale urine? Is that what it is?
Okay. Enough chit-chat. What's your name and did you kill those two kids?
I'm sorry. Are you talking to me?
Aw.
What's so funny?
It's so cute.
Well, it's like one of those mini taquitos they serve at happy hour.
Oh, yeah? You want some?
Ew.
Manly, yes. But I like it, too.
Now, what do you say you answer my questions before I drag you out of here
by your surprisingly small wee-wee?
Okay. Okay. My name is George Parker.
And no, I didn't kill those two kids.
So, what were you doing there this morning, George?
The usual. Pulling up surveyor's stakes, hassling workers.
And then, one of the guys, they found the dead bodies. We hung around to watch.
What's your beef with the project?
Same old story. Eminent domain.
Come again?
Indians getting their land ripped off for commercial development.
Huh. So, killing the developer's daughter sounds like pretty good payback.
Maybe. Except the developer isn't the one that screwed us out of the land.
Huh?
Talk to a dude named Edwin Talltrees.
He's the guy that ripped us off.
An Indian?
That's right.
Why would he kill two kids on his own land?
Because it isn't his land anymore.
After he screwed us, the dead girl's father screwed him.
Sounds like a lot of screwing going on.
Uh-huh.
All right, then, George. You can zip it up.
Sorry about the small wee-wee crack.
It's been a bitch of a day.
That is one special guy.
God, I hope he calls.
Apparently, ripping off your own people has its upside.
I wish I had people to rip off.
Can I help you?
Hi.
Mary Shannon with the U.S. Marshals. You Edwin Talltrees?
I am. Come on down.
All right.
Must be a bitch getting pizza delivered up here.
Hi.
Have a seat. Thanks.
I suppose you're here about Sienna Burke and that boy.
Why would you suppose that?
It's no secret Cale Burke and I had a dispute about that specific piece of land.
You'd be remiss not to question me.
God knows I hate being remiss.
So, what can you tell me about the murders?
I'm curious.
Why is the U.S. Marshals Service interested in a local murder?
Hey.
Here's an idea.
Since I'm the one wearing the badge
and you're the murder suspect,
how about we stick to me asking the questions?
All right.
Cale Burke and I attended Stanford together.
I stood up for him at his wedding.
I was at the hospital the day Sienna was born.
She and my son, Kyle, played together every day
until they went off to different private schools.
I would give anything, everything to bring her back.
What else?
Where were you last night?
Here. With Kyle.
Watching the Karate Championships on Pay-Per-View.
We're both students of tae kwan do.
You get much call for that in real estate?
Is there anything else, Marshal?
Is Kyle available?
I'd rather you didn't speak to Kyle. He's very upset about Sienna.
Would you rather I take him in for questioning?
Kyle? Yeah?
Come down here, please.
Just a minute.
Now, please.
Okay.
Yummy.
Kyle.
What is it?
This is Marshal Shannon. She wants to ask you about Sienna.
Okay.
I understand you were good friends.
Were.
Since Dad and Uncle Cale had their disagreement
we weren't allowed to see each other anymore.
Did you know the boy she was with?
Uh-uh.
I just heard he went to her school.
Can you think of anyone who would want to do this to Sienna?
Everybody loved her.
She was like...
Well, you just couldn't help it, you know?
Is that enough?
Sure.
Just one more thing.
Where were you last night?
I was here with my dad, watching the Karate Championship.
That's what I thought.
By the way, who won?
Edgar Sanchez. Edgar Sanchez.
I'm really sorry about your friend.
Yeah, it sucks.
Thanks.
I really wanted to turn around and pop off one of those Columbo questions.
You know, the innocuous afterthought that lets the killer know
that I know he did it.
"Excuse me. Do you always wear white shoes after Labor Day?"
Unfortunately, I had no idea if Talltrees had anything to do with the murders.
And more importantly, he wasn't wearing shoes.
As good as I am at sorting out other people's lives,
you'll just have to take my word for it, I'm really good,
that talent pales compared to my genius for keeping my own life
in a constant state of turmoil.
Please give me the keys.
I'm not going to ask you again. So, just please give me my keys!
What are you going to do? Are you going to hit me?
No. But give me the keys.
Come on. Hit me.
Enough! Enough!
Just give me my keys. Enough!
I've got enough going on without having to deal with this BS!
Mary, thank God you're here. They've been like this for half an hour.
She stole my car.
You left me sitting in the middle of the ghetto.
Mary, please. Would you do something before the neighbors think we're poor white trash?
Oh. Obviously, not you, Raphael.
God, my head is just splitting.
She's lucky I don't call the cops.
Raphael, she was scared.
Go ahead. You know what? Call the cops.
I'll just tell them about that dime bag I found in the center console.
No, no, no. That's not mine.
A dime bag of what? Yeah, okay. You don't get high?
No! No! Is that what you're telling me?
You don't get high? No, I don't get high.
Okay. All right. Both of you, stop it. Stop it!
I don't know whose dope it is. And I don't care.
I want it out of here, now. I'm a U.S. Marshal, for Christ's sake.
Ma, go inside and take some aspirin. Brandi, give him his keys.
You better don't think that stuff is mine.
What kind of stuff?
You better don't? Oh, God. It doesn't matter.
No. The hell it doesn't. You're taking her word over mine?
I'm not taking anybody's word.
What part of "I don't care whose it is" is difficult for you?
Is this how you thank me for taking time out on my day off
to pick up your psychotic sister?
You were supposed to drive her to my house,
not intentionally scare the crap out of her.
I had to stop at the youth center.
The "scaring the crap out of her" part was just a bonus.
It was a juvenile prank that blew up in your face.
Oh. Then, after she steals my car, you don't even come and pick me up.
I was busy. Why can't anyone get it through their heads? I have a job.
Oh, that's right. Everybody has got to make time in their day, but not Mary.
Cry me a river. What did I pull you away from? An extra set of crunches?
Is that all you think I do?
No. Sometimes, I think you work on your lats.
Have a happy birthday. I'm out of here.
See you.
You happy?
What? I already got rid of the stuff. What's the big drama?
Oh, my God. Brandi! When are you going to grow up and stop
making life miserable for everyone around you?
Don't you think that's a little harsh?
I thought you had a headache.
I do. And my two girls fighting isn't helping it any.
You were supposed to pick me up.
I have a job! Okay? I made other arrangements.
Oh, come on. You couldn't take an hour off from serving warrants
or drinking coffee at the courthouse or whatever the hell it is you do
to pick up your sister?
Okay. Ma.
I know you think Brandi's your precious baby. She's not.
She's a virus, infecting everyone around her.
All right. That's enough.
And as long as you keep propping her up and making excuses,
that's all she's ever going to be.
God. Would you stop it? This is your baby sister.
Now she's going to cry and you're going to tell her
everything's okay. And somehow, this is all going to wind up my fault.
So, if you don't mind, I'm going to skip the next part of the program.
I have to get back to whatever the hell it is I do.
Excuse me.
Just give me the damn keys.
You want them?
Yeah.
Go get them.
No. Don't touch me!
Get your hands off of me! Put me down!
You get out when I get the keys.
Up yours!
Classy.
Raphael? After she gets your keys,
would you mind picking up Mary's birthday cake for me?
The Federal Witness Protection Program
is the most secretive organization in all of law enforcement.
We do not talk about what we do. Not to friends, not to family.
Not even to other U.S. Marshals.
Which is why my mother, my sister, even my boyfriend,
who by the way isn't really my boyfriend,
all think I'm a glorified messenger with a gun.
And why Marshall and I work on the roof of the Sunshine Building,
while the rest of the U.S. Marshals reside
in the Pete Domenici Federal Courthouse,
with their mahogany desks, crystal chandeliers, and butlers.
And yes, his name is Marshall and he is a marshal.
Sometimes, that's just how the universe works.
Marshall.
Hey. How's it coming? Drips and drabs.
I tracked down the girl's best friend. She's at work at Elsa Ross.
So, she doesn't know?
Either that, or she's got a great work ethic.
All right. I'm on my way.
Tread lightly.
Hey. Give me a little credit.
Oh, God.
I can't believe she's dead.
I'm so sorry.
And I can't believe you tried on clothes before telling me.
Yeah. Again. I'm really sorry.
I thought it would help ease into it.
I can see now that was a mistake.
Who did this?
I don't know.
I was hoping maybe you could help me figure that out.
I don't know anyone who would do anything like this.
All my friends are really nice.
Okay. Okay. You think about it.
I mean, what about Frankie? Did he have any enemies?
I don't know. He was new.
He... He seemed really sweet, kind of sad. Like, lost.
How long had he and Sienna been going out?
They weren't going out. Sienna was just being nice to him.
He was a virgin, so, she was going to...
You know...
That is nice.
Sienna was like that.
Okay. Okay. Okay.
I know this is hard. But please...
Please. Try to think, Nicole.
Is there anyone we should talk to?
Anyone you'd want to talk to if you were me?
She had a boyfriend. I'd want to talk to him.
Okay. Good. What was his name?
I don't know. He was this big secret. And I mean really big.
She wouldn't even tell me what he looked like. And she told me everything.
Did she tell you anything about him? Anything at all?
Mmm-mmm. Just that he made her get this stupid tattoo
and she totally didn't want to.
You mean the one on her chest?
Yeah. Over her heart.
It was supposed to be some symbol of their everlasting love.
So, how come she was with Frankie? I mean, if she had this
secret boyfriend and all?
Because they broke up, like, a month ago.
Did I forget to mention that?
Yeah. You kind of did.
I'm sorry.
It's okay. It's okay. I'm sorry. I'm...
Okay. So, trying on the clothes before I told Nicole about Sienna
probably wasn't the best way to handle things.
What can I say? Sometimes, we get it wrong.
Before you hear it from somebody else,
I smacked an Indian's johnson with a bar of soap today.
Just thought you should know.
Haven't we done enough to those people?
I'm not proud of myself.
You come up with anything?
Not really. Oh, except that two days ago,
a three-second call came into Santoro's house
from a cell registered to Richie Mastro.
Run that by me again?
You heard me.
Richie Mastro, son of Dominick Mastro,
Don of Dons, head of the five families called my Frankie?
Yes, Fredo.
You sure?
You know, it hurts when you doubt me.
All right, let's go.
Now, where?
Frankie Nuts has got some explaining to do.
Do I get to play bad cop?
Like you could.
Oh, damn.
What's the matter?
Hi, Tasha. It's me, Mary. Is your cable on yet?
Good.
No, we can only pay for the basic package.
HBO and Showtime are extra.
Listen, about your groceries, something's come up.
So, what's the book on young Richie?
Well, for starters, you'd have to say he's of questionable character.
Tossed out of Choate, was he?
NYPD has him under investigation for a handful of murders.
Mob stuff.
Nope. Women.
All went missing from a Manhattan club called Cosmos.
An establishment Richie was known to frequent.
And of particular interest, a former girlfriend
got a restraining order against him,
after he broke four of her ribs.
Then, guess what. Two days later, she turns up.
Hacked to bits.
No. Afraid so.
Apparently, our boy's got girl issues, and likes knives.
So, he does Junior, then has his jollies with the girl?
Could be.
And somehow, he got Frankie's number.
So it would seem.
Son of a bitch.
A week before he testifies against Dominick.
I'll bet you anything Frankie was trying to broker a deal.
You know what I think?
What?
I think Frankie might have been trying to broker a deal.
You're an idiot.
Where are the people who are staying here?
Damn it, what language do you speak?
Oh, perfect. She's deaf. You have a pen?
They're gone. She doesn't know where.
What?
Come on.
You calling in a phone trace?
That will take hours. Get a warrant, blah, blah, blah.
I need to find Mastro before he finds Frankie or vice versa.
And since when do you know sign language?
Apparently, I don't.
Hello.
Hello? Is this Richie?
You've got to be kidding.
Yeah, who's this?
This is Nomi.
I don't know if you remember me and my girlfriend, Pia,
met you at Cosmos a few weeks ago.
Maybe. I meet a lot of chicks. What's up?
Well, Pia and I were just talking about how much fun it was
to hang out with you and how much we wanted to party with you that night.
And Pia said we should just call you and see what you was doing.
No way in hell this works.
Yeah. Maybe some other time.
Pia, what are you doing?
Please don't talk dirty.
Oh, Richie, I wish you could see this.
Me, too.
What exactly is Pia doing to you?
Well...
First of all, I'm lying on my tummy
and I'm wearing this real short skirt.
And Pia's taking her tongue
and running it all the way up my...
Oh!
Sweet mother!
She's talking to her mother.
Ooh!
Oh, Richie. I want to do you like Pia just did me.
Tell me where you are and we'll come over in a cab.
That is, if you think you can handle both of us.
Listen. Uh, Romy...
Nomi.
Okay. Listen, Nomi.
Much as I'd love to party with you and Pia,
and trust me, I got more than enough for both of you,
that's going to be an awfully pricey cab ride.
Why's that?
Because I'm in Albuquerque, cupcake.
Albuquerque?
Unbelievable.
How funny. Some guy just invited me out there
for some balloon festival, whatever the hell that is.
No kidding.
Yeah. Some coincidence, right?
Hey. Are there any decent places to stay out there?
Yeah, they got one really nice resort just out of town.
Golf, spa, the whole deal.
That sounds... Uh-oh.
I think my husband just got home.
Honey, I'm home.
Mother Mary and Joseph. What's going on here?
Where are your panties? You bad, bad girl.
I've got to go. I'll call you back.
That's just...
Nomi?
From Showgirls.
Sweet.
I'll take that for you, ma'am.
Keep it close.
Is this guy staying here?
We don't give out information about our guests.
Okay. So, you won't mind if my friend and I start banging on doors,
telling your guests there's a serial killer staying here.
Come on, Marshall.
Excuse me.
That's Mr. Martell in suite 1014.
And he tips very well.
Thank you.
Who is it?
Room service, Mr. Martell.
I have a fruit basket, compliments of the hotel.
Leave it by the door.
And a bottle of Dom Perignon.
I'm not allowed to leave it outside.
All right, hold on.
Pain in the ass.
Freeze!
Don't even fart.
My wallet's on the bar. Take whatever you want.
We're not here to rob you, you stupid hump. We're U.S. Marshals.
I didn't do nothing.
Oh, yeah? Isn't that cute?
That ain't mine.
Where's Frankie?
Frankie who?
Santoro. Where is he?
Frankie Nuts? How the hell should I know?
What are you, a nun?
Quit screwing with me.
I know your father sent you to kill him.
Now, tell me where he is or so help me,
I will feed this ear to my mother's poodles.
I thought they were Shih Tzus.
Focus, Marshall.
Where the hell are you?
I thought I told you to stay put.
No, it isn't all right. Stay there. I'm coming over.
Something's come up. Be a dear and take him in.
Yes, honey. Shall I pick up your dry cleaning while I'm at it?
Take me in? What for?
For ending an interrogatory with a preposition.
Hey, that's a six-dollar candy bar.
Put these on and shut up.
Easy.
Idiots. Can't even stick where I tell them.
They're like children.
Children with ADD.
Damn it. Tasha's groceries.
Hey.
Let me explain something to you.
When I tell you to stay someplace, you stay there.
You can't just change locations without telling me.
I don't have time to go chasing
all over hell and high water looking for you.
This goes for you, too, Felicia.
I needed to light a candle.
Listen. I know you two are hurting. But this...
This is not how the program works.
We checked into the Marriott.
The other place was too depressing.
The bedspread had stains.
How does Richie Mastro have your phone number?
What?
You heard me. He called your house two days ago and hung up.
Like he was checking the number.
I know I didn't give it to him. So, who did?
It wasn't me. I haven't contacted anybody.
Oh, God.
What?
Oh, God. Did I get Frankie killed?
What? Tell us what you did, Felicia. You stupid...
What happened? Have you been talking to someone?
No. No. No. I swear.
Not on the phone. On the Internet.
Me and Cathy, we've been e - mailing each other.
But I never told her where we were
and I didn't give her our number. I swear on my life.
Who's Cathy?
It's Mastro's wife.
They been friends since grade school.
What did I do?
He probably found out and he tapped our ISP.
Felicia, listen to me. We don't know that Mastro had anything to do with this.
Where is he?
Hey. Don't do this to yourself.
Until we know for sure what happened,
you can't assume this has any connection to you.
Look.
You tell me where that son of a bitch, Mastro, is right now.
Do we have anything to hold him on?
Tampering with a witness.
Maybe hampering a prosecution.
What about the murder?
Unless something turns up, he walks in 48 hours.
Yeah, yeah. That's what I figured.
So, I returned the perfume.
Smart move.
And...
I got her these.
Wow. Yeah.
I bet these set you back.
Oh, sure.
Pretty. Yeah.
Very pretty.
So, you think she'll like them?
Have you ever met Mary?
What? What? They're shoes.
All women love shoes. Mary's a woman.
Ipso facto, Mary loves shoes.
So sad. No, no, no. Okay.
This time, you're wrong. Mary... Mary's going to love these.
Hey. Oh, my God.
Oh, God.
That's just evidence. Evidence from a case. Another case.
Can you believe women actually wear these?
"Oh, my God. Look at me.
"I'm a cosmo-drinking, Manhattan whore. "
Imagine that.
Not a word.
Anyone talk to him yet?
Yeah. The FBI's sending somebody down.
I need to talk to him first.
Just hang on a second, Mary. All right?
Your witness is safe. You did your job.
How about we just let the FBI do theirs?
How about we screw the FBI. I need to know if Mastro killed Frankie Junior.
And you know as soon as the Feds get here, we're out of the loop.
Am I right, Stan?
All right, all right. Do what you've got to do.
If the Feds show up, I'll deal with them.
All right, then.
What are you going to do?
Beat them off with your strappy little pumps?
Wake up, douche bag.
Wish I had a nickel for every time I heard that.
Why are you in Albuquerque?
Why are you busting my balls?
Because I can. Now, answer my question.
I bet you're a tight little ride.
Ooh. That was a mistake.
You little bitch.
Did you kill Frankie Junior?
I assume that's a rhetorical question.
Rhetorical. That's a pretty big word for a moron.
Interesting interrogation technique.
Does the name-calling thing usually get guys to confess?
Because frankly, I find it a little off-putting.
Come on. Just tell me. No one else has to know.
Are those real?
Go ahead. Take a good long look.
Because it's the last pair you're ever going to see.
And why is that, pussy cat?
Because Richie, baby, me and my friend, Pia,
would double-team Dick Cheney if that's what it takes to put you away.
Did he do it?
Don't know.
So, who's Pia?
And what does Dick Cheney have to do with this?
And why is it I never know what's going on?
You're a big picture guy, Stan.
So, this is where the real police work, huh?
Hey, Marshal.
And may I add, happy birthday.
Yeah. So far, it's been a real pisser.
So, you come up with anything interesting?
Oh, it's all interesting.
Maybe not helpful, but interesting.
I spoke with the girl's parents, friends,
checked the cell phone records.
According to Sienna's best friend,
she had a secret boyfriend.
But nobody's ever seen him
and he doesn't even get a mention in her diary.
So, if there was a boyfriend, the guy's a ghost.
Maybe it was someone older, that needed protection.
Like a teacher or maybe an ex-business associate of her father?
Hey, you think just like a cop.
Go figure.
What about forensics? Anything come in yet?
No. We won't see anything until tomorrow.
I was just about to pack it in for the day.
That's probably a good idea.
Did you check out Talltrees and his son?
Oh, yeah. The guy's a real piece of work.
Unfortunately, there's nothing to connect him or his son to any of this.
That's kind of what I got, too.
So, how about you?
What can you tell me about the boy with two names?
I was supposed to interview his parents,
but guess what, they're suddenly nowhere to be found.
Huh. Maybe they're on vacation.
Look, Marshal. I get it.
You operate under the cloak of darkness.
Only the Boy Wonder knows your true identity. But guess what.
I take this murder-solving business pretty seriously.
So, either share what you've got or quit wasting my time.
Oh, and by the way, it took me all of two minutes
to get on the phone with the NYPD Captain,
and get the whole 411 on Frankie Nuts.
So, what's it going to be?
Sorry.
I've got nothing.
That's what I figured.
It's Mary's world. The rest of us are just here for housekeeping.
Hey. You don't know me.
Really? Let's see.
Typical relationship has a shelf life of,
oh, I'd say about a month, tops. No real friends.
Can't quite figure out why you're always on the outside looking in.
No one "gets" you. But, hey, that's their problem.
How am I doing?
That's real mature.
And she stole my damn pen.
Okay, it's been said I don't always play well with others.
And maybe even, at times, I project a prickly exterior.
But, in response to that, and in my defense...
I have something to say.
Come in.
No, I still have work to do.
And we both know what will happen if I come in.
All right. But it's like 112 out there.
This will just take a minute.
Earlier, at my house, I may have given
the impression that I didn't believe you,
or that I wasn't appreciative of you picking up Brandi.
Is this an apology?
Please don't put words in my mouth. I just want to clarify.
That is...
Explain... My God, it's hot out here.
Would you please come inside?
You're letting all the cool air out.
Okay, but just so I can explain.
Yeah.
Your explanations have a... Have a certain
"je ne sais quoi. "
Is that what I just did?
Yeah. I mean, I knew it was French.
I just didn't know they had a name for it.
Oh, they have a name for everything.
Oh, man.
I'm sorry about before.
I know.
Happy birthday.
Hey. Would you be upset if
I skip your surprise party?
I don't know.
I guess not. Why?
Well, truth, I kind of had my fill of your family for one day.
And besides,
you and me kind of
already did our thing. You know?
Okay.
Do you want me to come?
No. I don't. You should do what you want.
You don't care, huh?
No, I don't. Like you said, we already did our thing.
When it comes right down to it,
I don't have a reasonable right to care.
Well, you're going to have to explain that one.
This is what we do, Raphael. This is our thing.
We have sex, then we say good-bye. Which is fine.
We're both smart enough to know we're never...
I don't have a reasonable right to care what you do beyond this
because this is as far as we go.
How can someone that burns so hot be so cold?
I don't know. That's a great question.
Give me a call if you figure it out.
You got the cool water
When the fever runs high
We all live in hiding.
In one way or another, each of us conceals
pieces of ourselves from the rest of the world.
Some people hide because their lives depend on it,
others because they don't like being seen.
And then, there are those special cases.
The ones who hide because... Because...
Because they just want someone to care enough to look for them.
When something goes right
Oh, it's likely to lose me It's out to confuse me
It's such an unusual sight
Oh, I can't...
We send these offerings to you, Grandfather,
for these young spirits who are entering your spirit world.
Use these quilts to keep them warm.
These plates of food to nourish them.
This sacred water to quench their thirst.
These spirits have suffered great harm
and need your healing powers.
We give thanks to you, Grandfather,
for listening to our prayer.
Ajo.
Did you tell that homicide detective today's my birthday?
What homicide? Who?
Forget it.
Why aren't you at my party?
I could ask the same of you. But I won't.
Maybe I should talk to Mastro again.
I don't know.
You think the FBI will let me take another crack at him?
If I can't ID the killer, I need to at least start eliminating suspects.
You're going to have a tough time eliminating Mastro.
What does that mean?
Twenty minutes after you left,
the FBI showed up with DNA on his dead girlfriend.
Well, that's something. At least he's off the street.
Yeah. Not so much.
And I'm sure you'll appreciate the irony here.
He agreed to flip on his family and they cut him a deal.
He's in the program.
Please tell me this is one of your unfunny jokes.
That's not the worst of it.
What?
A half hour ago, Mastro walked out
the back door of the Fed's safe house. He's in the wind.
Oh, crap.
I told Frankie they could spend one last night at home.
Frankie? Open up. It's me, Mary.
I'll be right there.
What are you doing?
Hey. Open up. We need to talk.
Well, does it have to be now?
Felicia's not exactly decent.
Is everything all right in there?
Yeah. We're just getting ready to go to bed.
I thought I heard voices.
Me and Felicia was talking. We actually do that sometimes.
Now, please. If you don't mind, we, uh...
You sure everything's okay?
Goodnight, Marshal.
That was weird.
It seems like he'd want to know why we're here.
Yes, it do.
What are you doing?
Calling Mastro.
Frankie!
I forgot to tell you something.
Okay.
What?
Okay.
Is this what you were expecting?
Because I, for one, am flabbergasted.
Okay.
Felicia, what are you doing?
What's going on, Felicia?
Richie found out I was e-mailing Cathy,
and he came here to kill us all. But I shot him.
Okay.
I can see that. And why are you pointing the gun at Frankie?
Because this bastard ruined my whole life.
And now, I'm going to shoot him, too!
Okay. Okay. Well...
You could do that. But let's... Let's just think this through.
If you kill Frankie, I'm going to have to kill you.
I don't want to, but I will.
Is that what you want?
I don't care.
I have nothing to live for anymore.
Sure you do.
I know. I know things seem pretty bleak right now.
Okay, look.
Here's the thing.
Men lie. They cheat. They start wars.
They're slobs unless they're gay
and there's precious few of them walking the planet
worth putting on lipstick for, let alone throwing your life away.
Which is what you'll be doing
if you shoot your festering crap-bag of a husband.
Is that really necessary?
Shut up or I'll shoot you.
I can't live with him anymore.
Then, don't. You don't have to, okay.
Felicia, as hard as it is to imagine,
you have days ahead of you
where you will smile and laugh and look forward to things.
Maybe even fall in love again.
If you don't throw it all away.
I promise.
Oh, God.
Cathy's going to be really pissed at me.
I'll catch up with you later.
So, what's going to happen to her?
Well, since she shot Mastro in self-defense,
she'll probably get a new identity
and be moved someplace you can't find her.
He said he killed little Frankie.
Do you believe him?
He's a lying scumbag. There's no way.
You know, it's a hell of a thing,
losing your wife and your son all in the same day.
Do you ever think about all the people, the families
had days like this because of you?
The clock's still ticking.
Either you get me a name by this time tomorrow...
Actually, Frankie, name or no name,
this time tomorrow, you're on your way
to a new city and out of my hair.
I'm sorry for your loss, but screw you and your clock.
I just want to wash the stench of this day off and go to bed.
I know. But there are about 60 people in there, hiding behind furniture,
just waiting for you to open the door
so they can jump up and yell, "Surprise. "
Yuck.
Come on. It's your birthday. This isn't about you.
Now, get ready to act surprised.
All right, all right.
That's my girl.
This is a surprise.
Huh.
Well, come on. I'll buy you a drink.
Okay. But I'm not putting out.
I have no idea who these people are.
Ed. Jeannie.
Surprise!
She's my beautiful birthday girl.
Okay.
Oh, happy birthday, sweet pea.
Thanks, Ma. Oh, you're welcome...
Okay.
How did you keep this a secret?
You knew that I knew.
I knew that you knew.
Well, at least that was a surprise.
I knew it would be.
Here, Mary. It's a little... Little something.
Oh, Stan.
I know. Go ahead. Open it. Open it.
Okay.
It's...
A fifty.
You gave her money?
You like it?
It... It's just what I always wanted. Thank you.
See? Thank you.
Yeah?
Is... Is Raph here?
No, I'm sorry.
It's okay. I told him not to.
What about Brandi?
She thinks you don't want her at your party.
I see.
You're going to keep looking at me with those sad eyes
until I go talk to her, aren't you?
I know you mean well.
But you're not a very good mother.
You're right next to her. I get it.
I can't believe you gave her cash.
Huh? I know.
Good party, huh?
Hey, Squish. What's going on?
Nothing.
You okay?
Yeah.
No.
Listen.
Can you do something for me?
What?
It's just... I've... I've spent my whole day watching people cry.
Making people cry.
Wanting to cry.
Anyway...
I know it would make me feel a whole lot better
if for my birthday maybe you could just hold off on crying.
Just until tomorrow. Could you do that for me?
Yeah.
Okay. Come here.
It's okay.
Come on. Come on.
Whatever it is, we'll make it better.
I'm so sorry I make your life so miserable.
Oh, God. Listen to me. Listen to me.
You don't make my life miserable. Okay?
I just... I get frustrated sometimes.
You know, I want you to be happy.
And I want you to stop doing stuff that hurts yourself.
That makes you miserable. That's all.
Come on.
Okay.
Stop. Stop.
Come on.
There's my pretty baby sister.
I got you something for your birthday.
Really?
Yeah.
You didn't have to.
I know. I know. I just wanted to.
Wow.
It's an Indian talisman.
Or totem.
Maybe. I don't... I forget which, but...
I got it from this Indian stand after I took off with Chico's car.
Raphael.
Right.
It's from the Los Lobos Tribe.
Sweetie.
Los Lobos is a band.
A band of Indians?
No. Just a band.
Oh. Well, anyway, it means,
"May you always sleep under the tall trees. "
So, that's nice, right?
That's really nice.
So, you like it?
I like it. I like it a lot.
Thank you. Thank you so much.
Listen. I have to go do something.
But when I come back I want to talk. Okay?
Okay.
Come on. We've got work to do.
Oh. Can't it wait until tomorrow?
Move your ass, Marshall.
What? What?
What's that about?
I don't know. They don't tell me anything.
Huh? They don't tell me anything.
But you're the boss. They have to tell you.
I know.
I mean, you should know.
Let's set it up right here.
Let's go, Paul, Joe, with me.
Okay. Here's how I think we should proceed.
Open up, Talltrees!
I think I'll just stand here with my thumb up my ass
while you start shouting like a crazy person.
After a while, it becomes charming.
What is all this?
What happened?
Did Sienna get tired of sleeping under the tall trees?
You think I was having an affair with Sienna?
Not only is that disgusting. It's slander.
And you had better be very careful with your accusations.
Excuse me. Do you mind?
Go ahead.
Edwin Talltrees.
I have a warrant to search this property for any and all evidence
relating to the murder of Francis Amato Junior and Sienna Burke.
Please step outside.
Wait.
What?
Look.
At what? Oh.
Stop right there.
Don't come any closer or I swear I'll...
What? Kick the stool out?
Please. Let me.
Hey, what are you doing?
So, after spending almost their entire lives together,
Sienna Burke broke up with Kyle
because she couldn't tell her friends she was with an Indian.
She broke his heart, so he cut out hers.
That almost seems fair.
Thanks for the call.
It's your case.
The U.S. Marshals have a long history
of cooperating with local law enforcement.
Uh-huh.
After all I've done to get us off the reservation,
to give my son the same opportunities as the whites,
they still treat him like a redskin.
But he won't be tried like one.
Whatever.
I've got white man's money. A white man's lawyer.
And I promise you, my son won't spend a day in prison.
Hey. Chuckles.
Your son's a monster. He gutted Sienna Burke while she was still alive
and he needs to be put down.
But guess what. He's not the only monster on the block.
Not by a long shot. And prison or no prison,
tomorrow morning, the very worst of those monsters is coming for him.
So, good luck with your white man's defense.
Let me know how that works out for you.
Oh.
And you might want to think about adding a little security for yourself.
Hey, hey, hey. Is she seeing anyone?
Oh, crud.
Hi. You're awake.
Duh.
I didn't want to miss my groceries.
Sorry. I got hung up.
Is this what you mean when you say,
"I be back a little later"?
I wish to know. For future.
No. I'm usually very prompt.
I... Something happened.
More dead people?
No.
Well, yes, but...
Tasha, I meant what I said.
As long as you follow the rules of the program,
you're as safe as anyone living in this city.
Anyway...
It's late.
And here's your groceries.
You bring me porno.
To help you pick out your new breasts.
See? All different shapes and sizes.
My name is Mary. Today's my birthday.
And if I ever run into the son of a bitch that promised me
a life of excitement and unlimited opportunity as a U.S. Marshal,
I'll shoot off both his kneecaps.