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ORIGINAL AIR DATE ON NBC
2005/10/17

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Okay... so who wants to be the medium?

Oh, come on, guys, someone has to call the dead out to play.

 

Suzannah?

 

Knew it, chicken.

 

Katie?

I don't know.

I mean, it's your house.
It's your idea.
It's your everything.

Hey, I'm trying to be polite.

Allison?

 

Hey, I thought we were goingto go to the Safari Hotel, crash the pool.

No, uh-uh, not tonight.

I made an important decision. I need
the dead to tell me if I'm doing the right thing.

Fingertips on, everybody.

 

Spirits from beyond, we welcome you.

 

They're here.

You're moving it.
Bite me.

 

Tell me, kind spirits,

is tomorrow the perfect day for me to pack up my car and head for California?

- California?
- Are you insane?
- You can't do that.
- What about your mom?

You're not really going to leave in the middle of senior year.

 

I got this two days ago.

Playboy?
What? I'm 18.

Back at Easter, I borrowed Danny Brown's Polaroid,

and I stood in front of the mirror, and I took naked pictures of myself,
and I sent them in.

Lyla!
And they want to meet me.

"While it is difficult to tell from these pictures
"whether you are actually Playboy material...

"if you are ever
"in Southern California, please feel free to..."

That's three things.
It's the ad I answered from the modeling agency
about the car shows and conventions,

this letter, and there's that guy that I met from L.A. at Pilgrim's
who said they're always looking for game show contestants.

I just...
I think it's a sign.
I think it's where I have to go.

 

Don't do this.
Well, what else am I going to do?

I hate this place.
I'm not college material.

And besides, my mom's got this new boyfriend,

And it's getting weird.
He keeps looking at me funny.

I wish you'd at least wait till graduation.
Why? What do I need a diploma for?

I just... I want my life to start.
I don't want to wait.

 

Why does everybody look so sad?
I'm excited.
I want to celebrate.

Fine. I'm excited.
Anything to get out of here.

Hey, you have your fake I.D.?
We could go to Pilgrim's.
Yeah, my purse is in the kitchen.

 

They mock the dead with that game, you know.

 

Ally, let's go!

I know the answer...

the answer to her question,

and it's not pretty.

 

Do you want to know the answer?

 

I want you to go away.

I want you to leave me alone.

 

Something coming in off the desert.

 

Did I wake you?

No, I'm fine.
I'm just...
Just a dream.

 

Was it a bad one?
No.

Not really a dream.
It was...

 

Well, I dreamt it, but it was more of a memory,

something that happened a long time ago.

Nothing important.
Just a memory.

A rerun. What a rook.

 

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µ¿¿µ»ó Á¤º¸
HDTV-LOL / 347MB

ORIGINAL AIR DATE ON NBC
2005/10/17

MEDIUM
2x05 Sweet Dreams

 

¿µ¹®´ëº»
www.forom.com

½ÌÅ©ÆíÁý / Çѱ۹ø¿ª
ÀÌÁø¿ì(na9506030@nate.com)

 

Something I said?

What time is it?
5:47.

 

A.M.

 

You probably haven't noticed, but everyone else in the house...

in the world, is sleeping.

And, I mean, speaking only for myself, I think they're on to something.

I'm sorry, I suddenly realized that this has been on my to-do list for the last 18 years.

And it can't wait for another hour and a half?

 

We drove backwards down the Arizona Pike one night.

Well, she drove.
I just sat in the front seat and screamed.

That is crazy.

 

We ran naked through the middle of the Boy Scout Jamboree in Prescott at Easter.

 

I always wanted to be a scout.

We did a lot of other things I'm not telling you about.

 

Yeah, she was pretty out there.

 

So, wait a sec.
What happened to her?
Where is she now?

I don't know.

She just up and drove to California one day.

I tried to write her a couple of times.

 

But to be fair, my address changed.
I had a lot going on in my life then, too.

College...

 

...and then you.

Me?

My very own Boy Scout Jamboree.

 

Allison, I'd like you to meet Councilman Stuart McCallister.

 

The Councilman has come to me with a personal problem,

and Detective Scanlon and I thought you might be able to help.

I'm, uh, trying to locate someone,

and I'm told that you're, uh, pretty good at that.

Well, I have my days.

So, who are you looking for?

My daughter.

He hasn't seen her for a week.

She said she was going to a movie and never came home.

I'm so sorry.
It's not the first time.

She's 19, and the truth is,
according to the law, she's free to do what she wants.

Um, it's just that...

well, let's just say she takes some pleasure in associating with...

I-I think they're rather unsavory people.

And she's been known to indulge in some fairly risky behavior.

And if she can...
embarrass her father, the public servant,
at the same time,

well, all the more fun.
Right.

I explained to the councilman that since,
as far as we know,
she's not breaking the law,

the best we can do is find her and give her a nudge towards home.

And that's all I'm looking for.

Now, I've given the detective, uh, a list of her friends--
at least the ones I'm aware of--

places I believe she frequents.

Obviously, uh, everyone's discretion would be appreciated.

We didn't tell him anything about you.
Just, uh, that you're handy at these sorts of things.

I'm happy to do what I can.

Did you get any kind of vibe off him?

 

He likes his movies dirty.

He's a politician.
Doesn't that come with a hidden agenda and a skeleton in the closet?

I don't know, I felt sorry for him.
The whole thing sounded sad.

people ask me why I don't have kids.
Come on, you were a kid once.

Not me.
Came out just like this.

A few less clothes, maybe, but basically just like this.

 

I'll get to work on this list of friends.
If I find anyone or anything interesting, I'll give you a call.

Who knows?
Maybe she'll just come home all by herself.

Oh, wait, wait!

Actually, I need a favor.

I need you to find someone for me.

She's an old friend of mine from high school.
I haven't seen her in ages, but she's been on my mind lately.

I'm guessing she might be married,
so she might have a different last name, but that's the year she was born--

the same as me-- and that's the year she graduated.
We went to the same high school, but really, that's all I have.

 

I'm sorry, the number you have...

I'm sorry, the number you have dialed has been...

...have dialed has been disconnected, and there is no forwarding number.

 

Uh, try Camelot Lane.

 

You don't have a Camelot Lane?

Oh, that's right.
There is no more Camelot Lane.

Hi, um, my name's Allison Dubois,
but back in high school, my name was Allison Rolen.

I know it's been a long time, but I just thought I'd call and say hi, um,

and maybe see if you kept in touch with Lyla Gallagher.

Anyway, I'd love to hear back from you, catch up and all that.

My number's, uh, 602-555-0119.

 

Everyone unconscious and accounted for.

- No luck at all?
- Nope.

 

Pretty pathetic, huh?

A psychic who can't find no one or nothing.

 

Can I help you find the bedroom?

 

Al, hey, you okay?
I don't know.

Do we have earthquakes in Phoenix?

 

Hey.
Hey.
I think I found a Lyla in Oregon that fits our profile.

I wanted to talk to you about that.

 

I found her.
Oh, my God!

I don't have all the details.
It's probably gonna be another day or two before I have the specifics, but...

 

apparently, your friend drowned, back in '89, somewhere in Northern California.

 

You okay?

How could I have been so wrong?

In my head, she's been alive this whole time.

 

I'm sorry.

 

You know what?
I haven't seen her since 1987.

I'm not sure that I'm entitled to be all that upset.

 

Does that mean I'm allowed to bring up work?

Oh, yeah, definitely.

 

Well... there's still no word on Cynthia McCallister.

No activity on her credit cards, nothing on her ATM card.
Nobody's spotted her car.

Her friends say they have absolutely no idea where she might have gone
or who she might have gone with.

I called the Councilman
and asked him if it might be possible to come over to the house,
see her room, take a look around.

 

I'm on my way over now.
I was wondering if you want to come with.

"No" is a perfectly acceptable answer, by the way.

 

Actually, I'd like that.

 

Cynthia's room is right down this way.

 

Guess you'd know best if any of her stuff was missing.
Everything is still there.

And her suitcases are right where she always keeps them.

This room been cleaned since she left?

 

Carpets vacuumed, sheets washed?

 

I didn't know.

Okay.

 

We'll let you know if we need anything else.

 

Can't blame her for being thorough.
I wish my house was this clean.

Detective Scanlon, Mrs. Dubois.

 

When Mrs. McCallister died 11 years ago,
I promised her I'd take care of Cynthia.

 

Clearly, I've not done a very good job.

 

Would either of you like some coffee?
I can have my staff bring you coffee.

I think I know what's going on here.
What are you talking about?

I think she's involved in pornography--
acting, performing.

I think he knows about it.
It's tearing him up.

That's why we're here.
That's why he came to us.

I don't get it.
Why not tell us?

How am I supposed to bring this girl home
when he's not even telling me where to look?

He's trying to protect her.
She's his daughter.

Think about his side.
Would you want to tell a police detective something like that?

Dirty Little Darlings IV?
Pardon?

It's the title of the movie that she's in.
He was trying to find it.

The other day when I saw into his head, I misunderstood.

I think he was trying to find this movie.

I think he's having trouble believing it.

 

How you holding up?
You know what?
I'll take it from here.

What are you talking about?

I'm going to drop you off at your house.

You need to be by yourself, get upset, say good bye to your friend.

You are entitled to that.

 

I can't believe she's doing this.

This? How about going to California?

Should we tell somebody?

Who are we going to tell?
Her mother?
Her mother's not going to care.

We can't let her go.

 

Thank you.

 

Okay, so if anyone asks, my name's Linda.
I'm a junior at the U. of A.

And you girls are my dorm mates.

 

Ally, what you looking at?
The boys are over there.
Sorry.

 

Lyla, I'm worried about you, worried about this plan.

Don't worry about it.
I got it under control.

 

You okay?
You look like you've seen a ghost.

 

Tell me something.

What's it like to be drunk?

Uh, what do you mean?
What's it like?

It's like what it's like.
You want a sip?

 

I don't know.

A toast to me.
New beginnings.

 

Yeah

 

You stay in there any longer, you're going to turn into a prune.

 

A beautiful, naked prune.

 

How could I not have known she was dead?

I don't know.
You told me her family life was a mess.
It wasn't like they were going to contact you.

You were in college.
You probably weren't reading the papers every day.

It was years ago.
I'm talking about me.

I see the dead. They send me messages.
I'm the one they all come to.

 

How could I not have known?

 

What's going on?

They just found Cynthia McCallister's car.

 

More blood in that car than...

If it all turns out to belong to Cynthia McCallister,
we're going to need to upgrade her from missing teen to homicide victim.

I better put in a call to the Councilman, make him aware.

Where's the body?
I don't know.

 

I was kind of hoping you could tell me.

 

I can barely see you.

 

I can't hear you.

Go find someone else!

Leave me alone!

Shut up!
Go away! I can't hear you!

 

Well, aren't you the sight.

 

Katie and Suzannah just took off, so...

I guess it's just you and me.

 

Hey, you okay?
I'm excellent.

I'm actually... excellent.

 

Got to tell you...

this is not where I expected to spend my last night in Phoenix.

 

Then don't go.

I got to go.

I'm going to miss you so much.

 

Me, too.

 

Anything?

Not about this, no.

I could take you back to the house.

Well, I'm sure I could be just as useless there as I am here.

 

Okay.

These things were in her car...

the place where she was murdered.
She touched them. They surrounded her,
probably at the moment of her death.

There should be... some kind of energy to these things--
her energy.

They should tell me something about her...

about her last moments, but...
when I hold these things...

 

Look. I don't mean to pour salt in the wound.

 

I watched, uh, Dirty Little Darlings IV last night.

 

Twice actually.

I'm sorry, Allison.
Cynthia McCallister's nowhere in that movie.

Of course not.

 

Just hung up with Forensics.

Preliminary tests indicate that all the blood in the car is Cynthia's--
over four liters of the stuff.

There's simply no way she would have survived without an immediate transfusion.

We've checked every hospital in the state-- nothing.

So where does that leave us?
We need to find her body or a weapon, something.

Doesn't do us any good to find the man that killed her
if we can't prove it in a court of law.

The Councilman's office just called.
He's ready whenever you are.

The Councilman agreed to take a polygraph.

You asked the grieving father to take a lie detector test?
It's standard procedure.

He understands that the sooner we can rule out family members, boyfriends,

anyone else around Cynthia that might be considered a suspect,

the sooner we can concentrate our efforts on finding the person that actually did this.

 

Have you ever stolen money?

 

No.

 

Is your name Stuart McCallister?

Yes.

Do you have any knowledge of the whereabouts of your daughter?

 

No.

 

Is your daughter's name Cynthia Marie?

 

Yes.

 

Did you have anything to do with her death?

 

Did you have anything to do with Cynthia's death?

 

No, I did not.

Nothing whatsoever?

 

Nothing whatsoever.

 

Daddy, don't.

 

Is today Thursday?

Yes, it is.

Is your name Stuart McCallister?

Yes, it is.

 

Stuart?

 

Manuel.

 

It's 9:30 at night, Manuel, we're meeting in the dark.
I'm assuming you've found my daughter's body.

What's left of it.
Do me the courtesy of

telling me quickly.
I'm not keen on theatrics.

We've not found your daughter, that's not why I asked you here.

Sit.

I'm fine.

 

What are we doing here, Mr. District Attorney?

I've known you a long time, Stuart.

You're speaking of me as if I were the one who died.

One of my investigators has shared with me a certain...
theory of evidence.

 

Before I commit further resources,
brief other investigators, ask...

others to follow this lead and thereby
make it a matter of public record,

I wanted to give you the opportunity to speak to its... veracity.

Off the record.

I don't know what you're talking about.

 

I need to know,
is there anything about the nature of your relationship with your daughter

that might be seen as unique or special?

 

They called you?

 

They contacted you?

 

I'm sorry?

She'd been gone two days when I got the first call.

They sent me to one of those...

adult movie stores.
Video stores.

Told me to buy this used DVD...

and watch it.

They wanted $100,000.

 

$100,000.

 

And I sent it to them.

 

And they slaughtered her anyway.

I'm sorry...

I'm lost.
Are you telling me your daughter was kidnapped?

I'm telling you the same thing I told you the first time I came in here--
that my daughter consorted with unsavory people.

And I believe these people are the ones who killed her...

the ones who tricked her into taping us,
the ones who were blackmailing me.

So you're telling me that there's some sort of recording out there?

And that it... documents...
your relationship with your daughter?

 

I thought we were going to be direct
and honest with each other, Manuel.
Don't get coy on me now.

 

You're shocked.
My feelings are beside the point, Stuart.

I'm a civilized person, Manuel.

 

I know what you're thinking.

But I am not...
- the author of this situation.
- You were the parent.

 

When Cynthia's mother died...

I realized...

 

giving comfort to an 11-year-old girl...

it's...

 

it's not really...

something I knew how to do.

 

But...

she was in such distress.

Did you kill your daughter, Stuart?

 

Of course not.

 

I loved my daughter.

 

Councilman McCallister, where are you going?

 

Home.

 

To grieve.

Sir, I don't think I can let you leave.

 

I don't think you have a choice.

 

This is America--
you can't charge a man with hearsay.

 

Good night, Mr. District Attorney.

 

It's your boss.

He was just here.
We just spoke.

Everything you suspected is true.

 

- So what happens now? - Nothing happens now.

I can't offer your vision as evidence.

And unless and until that DVD surfaces...

 

- I got to go.
- I understand.

 

And the punch line is:

life sucks.

 

And the joke is?

 

It's what you said?

 

His own daughter.

 

I'm sorry.
And he's going to get away with it.

 

Why?

 

Why fill my head with all this ugliness

when it doesn't matter,
when it doesn't do any good?

 

Why wouldn't Lyla visit me?

Why wouldn't she tell me herself that she's gone?

 

I don't know, baby.

 

Joe?
Joe?

Joe? Joe?

 

Joe!
What?! What?!
What is it?

We just had an earthquake.
Didn't you feel that?

No.
All I feel is you shaking me awake.

I don't hear the girls.

I don't hear any sirens.

- I'm telling you, we had an earthquake.
- Power's on.

I've been dreaming about it for days and we finally had one.

I had a glass of water on the bedside table beside me and it's filled to the top.
Not a drop is missing.

Fine, don't believe me.
I'm putting on the news.

Excuse me?
You'll see.
It'll be on the news.

 

And in the small Arizona border town of San Miguel,

residents are applauding the selfless actions of local teacher, Geraldine Hanscom.

Earlier this week,
the very shy Ms. Hanscom not only risked her life to save a young girl from drowning,

- They're going to put one of those little banners across the bottom.
- but actually turned down a generous cash reward offered to her by the girl's parents.

Instead,
Ms. Hanscom asked that the money be donated to the local San Miguel High School

where she teaches English to teenage migrant workers.

Three days ago,
Ms. Hanscom nearly lost her own life while rescuing a young girl

who had fallen into a flash-flooded river.

Floods don't count, we're looking for earthquakes.

 

It's her.

Joe, it's Lyla.

That's her.
She's still alive.

Lyla Gallagher?

How's that possible?
I don't know.

 

But when I get a chance, I'm going to go ask her.

 

You're trespassing, and I will call the sheriff.

How do I get you people to understand
I have no interest in being in the paper or on television.

Lyla, it's me.
It's Allison.
It's Allison Rolen.

 

Oh, my God. Allison.

 

Oh, crap.

 

They're so beautiful.

What about you?

I have 23 of them,

and they'll be here in about ten minutes.

I saw you on television.
Well, I saw Geraldine Hanscom on television.

I was looking for you.

 

Okay.

 

It's flattering, I guess.

 

But I need you to leave me alone.

What?

Why?
Lyla... the whole world thinks you're dead.

I know, and it took a lot of time, luck and money to make it happen.

 

So, please, Allison, just go home.

Not without a why.

Not without an answer.

I drove all night to get here.
I'm not going home empty-handed.

 

You ever made a mistake?

 

When I left Phoenix and came to California, I made a lot of them.

I even married one of them.

Did a lot of really stupid things with a lot of really stupid people.

Did a lot for money.

Took a lot of really stupid drugs.

Made a lot of really stupid choices.

It just got really dark.

 

The truth is I wanted to die...

 

and I realize now I did everything short of actually killing myself to make it happen.

 

My husband Billy and I were up north.

We were driving through Oakland.

We got into this enormous fight--
something about drugs.
I took his, he took mine.

We needed money, and I was in no shape to do what was necessary to get it.

Anyway, he throws me out of his car.
I mean, I'm in the middle of Oakland with nothing.

 

It's October 17, 1989.

20 minutes later, the whole place shook.
It was a 7.1 earthquake.

I remember it.
I read about it.

Me, too, the next day.

I was in this shelter.

I saw this paper.

There's a list of the dead.
Me and my husband were on it.

My wallet, my bag, everything I owned was in Billy's car.

Billy's car went off the Oakland Bay Bridge during the quake.

Oh, my God.
At first, I was frantic.

Everyone thinks I'm dead.
This is horrible.

 

But then I realized...

no.
This is the chance of a lifetime.

This is the chance of a second lifetime.

I don't get it.
How did you do it?

A new name?
A new social security number?

 

There's this guy.
His name's Sammy.

He works out of a room in Nogales.

He can get you anything you need.
The ultimate do-over.

The only thing is it costs $100,000.

Took me five years to work it off.

 

I answered phones.
I made deliveries.

Got my teaching certificate at night.

 

But I would've done anything.

I was so happy being Gerry Hanscom.

It was like being born again...

like being present for my own birth.

I don't understand.
So this guy gives people...
new lives?

But what if you're not in a natural disaster?
How do you get the death certificate?

For another $100,000, Sammy could tell you how to handle that, too.

All you need is a year, a box of hypodermic needles and a portable freezer.

What do you mean?

He'd teach you how to collect your own blood--

a pint or so every week or two.
Store it.
Keep it cold.

When you figured out where you want to die, dump the blood and make a real mess.

There isn't a coroner anywhere

who won't declare you legally dead if he sees at least four liters of blood.

Four liters, huh?

Four liters is the magic number.

 

And you worked for this guy?
Yeah.

 

Why?
Because I need you to do me a favor.

 

Cynthia?

 

Maybe.

 

You work for Sammy?
Are those my papers?

My name is Allison Dubois.

I work for the Phoenix District Attorney's Office, and, yeah, these are your papers.

Unfortunately,
I'm going to need to hang onto these as evidence in a trial against you

on charges of blackmail and fraud.

 

Did you do it by yourself?

 

Pretty much.

 

I, uh...

I paid a vagrant ten dollars to put the disc in the case at the video store,

and I hired another guy for 20 to make the phone call to my dad.

 

If you're working for my father, you're in league with the devil.

 

So long as you understand that.

I have a pretty good idea...
of what he did to you.

 

You don't know the half of it.

 

Pretty screwed-up world.

After everything that he did,

I'll rot in a jail cell, and he'll be walking free.

Not necessarily.
He said that there was some recording.

- If we could get our hands on that...
- I was 19 on that DVD.

 

He'll argue that there was implied consent.

 

Unfortunately, I wasn't smart enough

to tape us when I was 11...
or 12 or...

 

Hang onto these papers, Elizabeth.
You're going to need them.

 

I'm sorry I bothered you.
I thought you were someone else, another girl.

 

I heard she was dead, but when I saw you, I thought maybe.

 

I guess I was wrong.

How far are we from the border here?
Half a mile?

 

With the right papers, a person could safely get across the border in 15 minutes,

so even if a person did mistakenly spot you and happen to call the authorities,

you could be safely gone before they arrived.

Go.
I got the check.

 

You make sure that the right people see that.

 

The girl on it...

she's dead...
but the man...

 

Don't worry.
I know what to do with this.

 

Coffee?
No, I'm fine.
Just-just the check.

Hopefully everything met your expectations.
Oh, yeah.

 

Everything was perfect.

 

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