- Previously on The Pretender. - Think of Angelo as a sponge.
Someone who can absorb the emotional and intellectual traits of others.
He can help us find Jarod.
You've company now, Mr. Broots. Name's Brigitte.
- I'm going to do my job. - I won't allow you to compromise this situation.
A strange phenomenon has occurred with Jarod.
He awoke this morning with seemingly no knowledge of his own identity.
We must begin, Jarod.
Why do you keep calling me that?
It is your name.
So you say. I don't even know what I look like.
How does that make you feel?
Like I don't exist anymore.
I wanna know who I am.
No doubt the years of pretended simulations...
have brought on this identity disorder.
My concern... is that if he continues to withdraw...
he will lose grasp of his true self... permanently.
- He's gone. - What the hell is this?
I believe thatJarod is taking an interest...
in classical art.
Aphrodite never had a balcony like this, Syd.
Ask me, I think your Mr. Peabody is going through latent puberty.
Why else would he be sculpting women?
Dr. Clay.
They are worth every penny I paid for them.
How did you become such an artist?
Practice makes perfect.
There are Pretenders among us.
I was taken from my family.
Thirty-six hours and he's already demonstrating more talent than any of our others.
How many people died because of what I thought up?
Since I broke out, I've spent every moment searching for my past.
He's a Pretender-
A genius who can become anyone that he wants to be.
- The Centre wants him alive. - Preferably.
He defends the weak and abused.
Life's a gift.
- You a doctor? - I am today.
Touch her face.
Tell me what you feel, Angelo.
Sadness.
Hurt.
Shame.
Whose hurt, Angelo? Whose sadness and shame?
You're telling me he can feel the same emotions...
as when Jarod made these things?
We're still only beginning to understand...
Angelo's gift as an empath.
But he may be telling us whatJarod was pretending.
Or the emotions aroused by the statues in the viewer.
Or the emotions of the worker who packaged the Clay Dough.
Hurt. And, uh-
Sadness. Shame.
A clue about my emotions, Syd. Happiness isn't one of them.
Nice picture, Chuckles. How long did that take you?
My daughter Debbie drew it.
It's a wonder she could draw anything at all with what went on this weekend.
Well, aren't you gonna ask me what I'm talking about?
No. Because if I have to hear one more time about your ex-wife...
and the football team she's dating, I'll toss my toast.
It's not about my ex-wife.
- What then? - How do I know I can trust you?
I'm outta here.
Someone is watching me.
This is the Centre. Somebody's watching everybody.
No, no, no, no. Not in the Centre.
I had Debbie this weekend. Everywhere we went, I felt like we were being spied on.
At the ice-cream parlor, at the zoo, even at home.
Sit.
I'm telling you. Someone's after me.
Broots, do you have any tangible evidence of this stalker?
Oh, no, it's the little things. Footsteps behind us. Rustling in the trees.
When we got home last night, the light was out. Now, I-I always leave it on.
So there's a dim bulb in your house, Broots. We've always known that.
Hurt.
Hurt!
Sadness.
- It's a shame. - A shame?
That mammaplasty you did.
A beautiful young girl like that, and you only give her a 36-inch bust. Metz.
Well, I had to build her to code.
Any more than that, she'd topple in an earthquake.
Topple? That's funny.
You gentlemen serving dessert yet?
Ready to excise the defect.
You're running late. I've got a rhytidectomy scheduled at 10:00.
No offense, Ray, but don't you have a promotion...
to get passed over for or something?
Rhytidectomy. 10:00.
He seems a little irritable.
He lost out running the Santa Barbara clinic. He's been griping ever since.
Do you wanna close?
Uh, actually, I would like to watch your technique.
They say you leave less scarring than any surgeon on the coast.
I leave none.
- What's your secret? - Suture pattern and nerves of steel.
And to think my old man laughed when I joined the macramé club.
Who's laughing now?
Yes, Debbie, Daddy's fine.
I'm just-just busy.
I miss you too.
Listen. Just stay with Mommy a couple more days...
and then you can come back, okay?
Good. And do me a favor, would you?
Draw me another one of these wonderful pictures?
Yeah, I got it right here.
Uh-huh. I love it.
I love you too.
Okay. Be good, Peanut.
Bye.
Perfect alignment. The incision's barely perceptible.
Nice assist.
Where did you say you trained?
Princeton Med. Postgraduate at Harvard. And the Clay Dough Institute.
Clay Dough Institute? That's funny too.
What isn't funny is I haven't received a paycheck yet.
I didn't become a plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills...
just to sit courtside at Laker games.
Don't knock courtside. And trust me, the money will flow.
We're not treating Medicaid patients here.
L.A. is full of rich, vain people under an unrelenting sun.
It's gold.
I just bought a brand-new Boxster- cash.
And as far as the perks, do you remember the bikini girl in Hellraiser II?
I'm dating her.
In fact, I designed her butt.
Well, she must be twice as good as the Hellraiser I girl.
You're not still bragging about the bimbo construction business, are you?
- Dr. Brant. - Wade.
You must be Dr. Clay. Christine Brant, chief of staff.
It's nice to finally meet you.
You've trained in maxillae facial trauma and endoscopic fracture repair.
- Of course. - Great.
We've got an M.V.A. victim coming in with massive facial injuries. He's yours.
- I'm on my way. And it was very nice- - Time is money, Doctor.
Right.
Lose something, love?
I'm sure it'll turn up. Somewhere.
Relax, Mr. Broots.
I'm here to help.
With your Peeping Tom problem.
- How did you know? - Not important.
What is, is that I believe you.
The question is...
why your friends Parker and Sydney don't.
Well, it's not that they don't believe me. It's just that-
They couldn't possibly think a man of your intelligence a fool?
Or is it that they have something to hide?
We know how to treat a man of your caliber.
We can protect you.
Who's we?
The people you can trust.
I hope you find what you're looking for.
Afraid.
Daddy afraid.
That's one big ear, Jarod. You weren't kidding, were you?
It's a remarkable substance, this Clay Dough.
Now, the name would imply that it was for cooking.
But I find it useful in training for blepharoplasty, otoplasty and orthognathic surgery.
You, my friend, are in need of some serious nooky.
Nooky? Is that another Clay Dough product?
Not exactly.
Any complications with your M.V.A. case?
Uh, no, but I'll keep my eye on him during follow-up.
He's a county case. There is no follow-up.
County cases are pro bono. They should be happy to get surgery at all.
Pro bono? I didn't spend seven years in medical school to operate for free.
Once a week. Brant's rule.
You know, I'm beginning to wonder about this place.
Money, movie stars. So far I haven't seen one single starlet.
For now you won't. Brant does most of the surgery herself.
And we get stuck with the freebies?
This whole "help the poor" bit is Brant's big thing.
And yours, Dr. Eubanks, if you want to stay at Surgicare.
- Dr. Brant. - Get something straight, Doctor.
Surgicare is not just about getting actors a part in their next movie.
We're L.A. County's top provider of free reconstructive surgery.
And if you want your share of the former...
you'll do your share of the latter.
Nice ear.
I should sew a bell to her neck.
Dr. Macy, please come to the front desk.
Dr. Macy to the front desk, please.
Hey, bus is here.
Why are you doing that, Jarod?
Why do you keep calling me that? I'm nobody.
You can't hide from yourself forever.
Jarod's resistance continues.
He refuses to participate in any simulation, to interact, even to eat.
This self-imposed isolation is a new Pretender phenomenon.
I am worried about his future.
Can I help you?
Uh, hello. Uh, I'm Dr. Clay from Surgicare.
I'm here to do a follow-up on Tricia.
- Nobody's ever checked on that child before. - That's why I'm here.
Her friend who was driving the car...
God rest her soul, went straight through the windshield.
I tell Tricia every day she's lucky to be alive.
Of course, she can't see it that way.
'Cause of her face, she won't leave the house, won't see her friends.
That child has a voice sent down from heaven. Mm.
'Cause of it, she had a full music scholarship.
She's never gonna use it now.
Never's a long time.
- I see you like music too. - Oh, no, that's Tricia's.
One ofher mystery gifts.
Well, they started coming in the mail about a month after the accident.
No cards, no return address.
God bless 'em, 'cause it's about the only thing that makes that baby girl happy.
Can I see her?
Tricia? You have a visitor.
Hi.
Huh. I see you like the blues.
It's my favorite too.
I'm Dr. Clay.
Jarod.
Can you fix my face?
I don't know.
It's going to be very difficult to see through that.
I don't wanna do this.
- Tricia. - It's okay.
You know, when I was your age...
I never left the house either.
I stayed in for about 30 years.
It's a long story.
When I got out, I realized what I was missing-
trees, fresh air...
sunlight.
Life's a gift.
Nothing is worth missing out on it.
It was nice to meet you.
Wait.
You have beautiful eyes.
What color are they? Blue?
Violet.
My new favorite color.
Hello?
Hello.
Who's there?
Hello?
A- Angelo?
Daddy afraid.
I need your expert advice.
- Medicine or women? - Both actually.
These belong to a supermodel.
Model or supermodel?
Super. The four-two fracture of the mandible.
Do you think you could do the procedure without causing any permanent paralysis?
Is the pope Catholic?
I believe that's mandatory.
Look. In the hands of the master...
she will come out looking better than she did before.
The seventh cranial nerve is near the site of the fracture.
You're absolutely positive that you can avoid it?
The most difficult part will be getting those incompetents in the lab...
to come up with the A-negative blood that she'll need.
Hmm.
This supermodel, is she- is she seeing anyone?
I don't believe she is. As a matter of fact, I would be glad to introduce you.
Dr. Eubanks, this is Tricia Holmes.
Hi.
I remember you.
The four-two fracture of the mandible.
Just like the supermodel.
And I'm sure you remember the result?
The posterior ramus ofher mandible's damaged...
and the right facial nerve has been severed.
- What happened? - Why don't you tell me?
Were you late for a movie premiere? Did you have a hot date?
Or maybe with charity cases, you just don't give a damn.
I might not beJoe P.C., but I give my patients 100%.
Right. Except during follow-up.
Guilty. But only of following Surgicare's pro bono policy.
Look.
I am a damn good surgeon, and I sure as hell never would have done that.
- Did you stabilize her fracture? - Completely.
And when you closed her, the nerve was intact?
Yes. The lacerations that she sustained weren't that deep.
Jarod, I didn't do that to her.
I swear to you.
Well, if you didn't do it...
who did?
And this closes it.
It certainly does.
Broots, one last question.
Have you considered counseling?
I'm telling you. If it wasn't for Angelo, I'd be dead right now.
He saved my life. He's a hero.
So, Monkey Boy got out of the zoo.
The question is how.
Oh, I found this top security access card in his pocket.
Who knows how he got it?
At least he saved you from whoever's after you.
What, you still don't believe me? Then what about these pictures?
Mm.
Use them for your Christmas cards.
It's past his bedtime. Put him back in his space.
Sydney, you still don't believe me either?
I'm not sure what to believe, Broots.
I found these by the tree near your house- shell casings.
It's a nine-millimeter. This is standard Centre issue.
Uh-huh.
And these...
were with them.
Miss Parker is after me.
We'll protect you, love. But nothing comes for free.
Okay.
What do you want?
Miss Parker?
I want to know every move she makes. Everyone she speaks to.
You'll need this.
Oh, no, I, uh- I don't know about that.
Survival of the fittest.
You know. Choice is yours.
God bless you.
Bless me.
Angelo.
Wait. How the hell did you get out?
Gimme those. Gimme that. That's mine. This is my stuff.
It wasn't Miss Parker. It was Brigitte.
What about Sneezy? I just passed her in the hall.
What are you doing with that?
Miss Parker.
Do you want me to hurt you?
No. No. These were found outside my house.
Your shell casings and your cigarette butts...
all planted by Brigitte.
She's the one that's been following me.
Angelo.
Whose access card, Angelo?
Amateurs.
Jarod. Jarod, where are you?
Jarod.
My God.
What are you doing?
Searching, Sydney, for me.
Your name... is Jarod.
And you have a tremendous gift to offer the world.
A gift that can help people.
You just need to believe in yourself... again.
I wanna know what I look like.
I wanna know who I am.
Ancient history.
That's me in the drama club.
I got the lead in the spring musical, Grease.
I don't think they wore leather jackets in ancient Greece.
- Oh, that's me in the choir. - Let me guess.
- Soprano soloist. - Mm-hmm.
Was there anything you didn't do?
Mm, never made the football team.
I bet you can't wait to get back to school to start all your activities.
Who's gonna wanna see a performer who looks like this?
Unless you can fix me, I'm through with school.
Tricia.
I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do.
The nerve damage is irreparable.
What did I do?
What did I do to deserve this?
You don't know what it's like...
being laughed at.
Having people point at you like you're a freak.
I know what it's like to be on the outside.
And I know that I'm stronger because of it.
I don't wanna be stronger. I just wanna be who I am.
I just wanna be her again.
She's gone...
forever.
Her gift isn't.
I look around your room, and I see all the things that you're passionate about...
and I know that your face is just a small part of who you are.
Only you hold the key to your future.
I know that life is a weird journey.
But to live it, you have to be out there.
Hello, Doctor.
- How's my baby? - Making progress.
I hope. This arrived.
Oh, could you open that, please?
My arthritis is just knocking me down today.
More gifts from the mystery friend.
Tess, do all the gifts have the same postmark?
All from Santa Barbara.
- Mr. Hawthorne. - Dr. Clay?
I am sorry about the urgency of this meeting...
but Dr. Brant was adamant this be dealt with immediately.
Well, y-your phone call was a little vague.
Is there a problem?
Someone has leaked information about Tricia Holmes.
I'm not here to pass blame or to play games.
Dr. Brant wants it clear that if you don't cooperate, all of this can go away.
- I don't remember every patient, so- - That's a good answer...
for the medical board.
- Medical board? - Mm-hmm.
They're starting an investigation.
I didn't tell anyone. I swear.
We need a statement that you saw nothing unusual that night.
That will get the board off of our backs.
Then Tricia Holmes...
she can go back and hide her disfigured face in the shadows...
while you and Dr. Brant enjoy all of... this.
Do we have a deal?
No.
No?
No, I won't lie for her anymore.
It was 2.00 a. m. when Tricia Holmes was brought back into post-op.
Dr. Eubanks, putz that he is, did an excellent job on her.
She was resting calmly. Everything was calm.
- And then Dr. Brant came in? - She was freaked.
She was in the middle of a chin implant on some movie star...
and the bone grafts needed for the procedure had been damaged.
Brant needed a donor. She needed one quick.
She checked out Tricia's chart.
Without even blinking, she grabbed a scalpel.
My God, she didn't even bring that poor girl back into surgery.
She reopened Tricia's face, and she harvested bone...
to put into her movie star client.
And in her haste, she severed Tricia's facial nerve.
Brant gave me the promotion to keep quiet.
I've been trapped ever since.
Ask Tricia Holmes about feeling trapped.
Long day, Brigitte.
You know what they say- A woman's work and all that.
You look tired.
But then I guess stalking can be tough on a young thing.
The late nights, the long hours.
You know, you Americans have a whole other English.
Sorry, love, don't follow.
Now that my father is back...
you'd never get approval.
So it must have been an independent move.
You shot at Broots, didn't you?
If I shot Broots...
he'd be dead.
Not if scaring him was the intention.
- So, who ordered it? - Your guess is as good as mine.
Raines. It's just his style.
It only makes sense to go after the weakest link.
It was a very tough call.
Get something straight.
Broots may be an idiot, but he's my idiot.
The only one who terrorizes him is me.
You pull a gun on me? No big deal...
'cause I know you don't have the rocks to pull the trigger.
But the next time you mess with one of my team...
I'll put a bullet right in your blonde bonnet.
And they said you weren't a bitch.
- They were being kind. - Hmm.
For what it's worth, I did shoot at Mr. Broots.
However, I took no pictures.
What's the occasion, Jarod?
Oh, let's just say it's my little way of saying thank you...
for giving me the best job that money can buy.
Well, you're the best hire I ever made.
No offense.
You've been rolling those charity cases at a record pace.
Gives the rest of us an opportunity to focus on other priorities.
Like weekends to Cabo. Rodeo Drive shopping binges.
- Beach house renovations. - Guilty.
Are you okay, Christine?
Uh, it's just, um-
I haven't, uh- I haven't eaten.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Oh, I think you've had one too many.
If Wade would be so kind as to lend me his car, I will give you a ride home.
A chauffeur too.
I really did hire the right guy.
What kind of champagne was that?
A very special year.
You keep revving the engine like that, you're gonna ruin it.
Eubanks says this car can do 140.
Let's see if he's telling the truth.
Jarod. Jarod. Jarod.!
Dr. Brant?
Can you hear me?
There's been a terrible accident.
- Am I okay? - There's just a little blood.
- Oh, God. - No, no, no, no, no.
Never mind that. There's no deep trauma. It's only cosmetic.
- My face, is it bad? - Don't worry.
The damage isn't severe. I can repair you.
Thank God.
There has been one slight complication however.
Complication? Wh-What?
We have a high-profile client in the next operating room.
A supermodel. She had a terrible reaction to a chemical peel.
She needs massive skin grafts.
But luckily, we have the perfect donor.
- You. - Me?
I'm not donating grafts. It'll ruin my face.
I'm sorry, but there's no other way.
What are you, insane? You can't do that to me.
Sure I can. Just like you did to Tricia Holmes.
But look on the bright side, at least I'm gonna tell you...
that I am going to harvest part of your body for someone else.
That is what you did to her, isn't it?
- Jarod, please! - You cut out a piece ofherjaw...
to save your important client's little chin implant.
And then you severed her facial nerve in your haste, didn't you?
Yes, I did that! Now, please, let me go!
Sorry.
Can't do that.
But I promise, I'll try to be more careful with you...
than you were with her.
No. No! No.
Jarod, please. Don't. Don't.
Oh, try not to panic.
Your face is still anesthetized.
- What's left of it. - You're insane.
Now, I resent that, Doctor.
I did the very best I could...
considering I'm not really a plastic surgeon.
Voilà!
No.
- No! - Whoops.
No.
I don't think she's coming.
You need to have more faith.
Oh, baby.
- You look beautiful. - Thanks.
Can I give you a ride?
Thanks, but, uh, life's a weird journey...
and it's about time I get back out there.
Hey, you look great.
Jarod.
This is what you look like.
This is who you are.
Brigitte did the shooting, but she's not the photographer.
We know. These just came this morning.
What the hell is going on here?
Someone's trying to terrorize us.
- Who? - Well, we're working on that one.
Angelo.
I- It's angry.
Confused.
Angry.
Angelo.
Who is angry? Who?
Angelo.
This is a waste of time.
I decide who lives or dies.