CSI: Crime Scene Investigation (2000–2015): Season 13, Episode 17 - Dead of the Class - full transcript
Attending their 15 year later high-school reunion, assistant medical examiner David Phillips follows a trail of blood drips leading to the ceiling-hidden stabbed corpse of former class vamp Becca Sabin. her husband, psychotherapist Grady Foster, may have had most to lose in the distribution of pamphlets hinting at 15 unnamed classmates' embarrassing secrets. Defense is eagerly provided by the lawyer among the alumni, who hides her relationship with 'intruder' Max Dinello, fired gym teacher in a nearby school. The truth is going to explode, and maybe also a bomb found in the ceiling.
# #
# #
Why must I go through
this awful ritual?
Don't be so dramatic, David.
It's just a high school reunion.
The only reason I bought
these stupid tickets
was to show off
my beautiful wife.
Who's oh-so flattered,
but too pregnant to stand
and too cheap to let you waste
both $100 tickets.
Sagebrush High class of '98.
It-it made
Lord of the F/ies
look like Fantasy /s/and.
And the only way I survived
those four awful years
was by being utterly invisible.
And now I am supposed to go back
without being
forced at gunpoint?
I bet there'll be cupcakes.
What if you go into labor
and I'm not here?
It's not going to happen,
but I'll call your cell.
The reunion will be
good for you.
Everyone will see
the amazing guy you've become.
And you'll see how everyone's
grown up, evolved.
I love you.
Go.
You're gonna have fun!
# Yo, I'll tell you what
I want #
# What I really, really want #
# So tell me what you want, what
you really, really want... #
- (men chattering, laughing)
- Come on, man!
Don't fight it!
- (grunts)
- Hey!
(laughs)
- (laughter and chatter continue)
- Let's go!
(Spice Girls' "Wanna Be"
continues in background)
- Hey.
- Hey.
H-Hi, Becca.
Name?
David Phillips.
I don't have a Phillip Davis.
No, David Phill...
It's fine.
Here.
(table thumps)
Sorry.
# Give it to me, baby #
# Uh-huh, uh-huh #
# Give it to me, baby #
# Uh-huh, uh-huh #
# And all the girlies say
I'm pretty fly for a white guy #
# #
# Uno, dos, tres, cuatro,
cinco, cinco, seis #
# You know it's kinda hard
just to get along today #
# Our subject isn't cool
but he fakes it anyway... #
Hey. Come on.
# He may not have style #
# But everything he lacks,
well, he makes up in denial #
# So don't debate,
a player straight... #
MAN:
And the fourth most
exciting thing about working in
insurance-related
actuarial science
is the way you see
the world differently.
This place is
a den of liability.
Rising exponentially
with each drink that's consumed.
Half of these people
aren't even chewing
their hors d'oeuvres
to a safe consistency.
Not to mention the bacterial
populations in the lavatories.
I mean, you can get
any number of STDs...
- Excuse me.
- Oh.
Well, be careful, they're
running rampant in there.
Running rampant in there.
Hey, guys, cake.
(burbling)
Becca.
- RUSSELL: Hey.
- PHILLIPS: Hey.
You all right?
Yeah, no, I'm fine.
I-I've seen dead bodies before.
But, uh...
It's not the same, huh?
I spoke to her an hour ago.
Well, Doc's gonna be here
in a couple of minutes.
You able to keep everybody away
from the immediate scene
till the policemen came?
I did the best I could,
but former hall monitor
doesn't exactly demand respect
around here.
Did you know the
victim really well?
From afar.
Becca Sabin was queen
of the class.
A head cheerleader,
social secretary.
She planned all this.
Well, most of it.
So, queen of the class
15 years after her reign.
Question is: Which one of
her subjects did this?
# Who... are you? #
# Who, who, who, who? #
# Who... are you? #
# Who, who, who, who? #
# I really wanna know #
# Who... are you? #
- # Oh-oh-oh #
- # Who... #
# Come on, tell me who are you,
you, you #
# Are you! #
ROBBINS:
Irregular laceration.
Judging by the amount of blood,
appears to have severed
an artery
and bled out
into the bubble tray.
The assailant might've grabbed
one of these...
hand-me-down weapons.
There's a whole confiscated
armory here.
SANDERS:
I never understood the kids
who'd bring this stuff
to school.
I mean, showing off
your pair of nunchucks
- is worth expulsion?
- Yeah, right?
Well, that's addled essence
of adolescence.
Brain's prefrontal cortex
doesn't fully develop
until your 20s.
Means your teen years are spent
oblivious to consequences
and prone to reckless behavior.
Our killer's about 15 years
too late for that excuse.
Yeah, you think a decade
and a half
would let everyone grow into
mature and caring adults.
Not always the case.
SANDERS:
Well, no visible blood
- (distant siren wails)
- On any of the sharp implements.
I'll bring them
back to the lab anyways.
Got a bloody handprint
in the bubble tray.
No ridge detail.
Killer may have wiped
their hands in the soap.
Trace from the killer
could've been
carried out in the bubbles.
Which means it could've
landed anywhere
on anyone at the party.
Hundreds of popped,
red bubbles out there;
may have to check them all.
Why don't you start
with a smaller task.
I found this in her palm.
STOKES:
Looks like glass.
WOMAN: Becca was my best friend
in school.
Kind of ruled the place.
Kate and Pippa.
Were you still close?
We drifted.
Career, loving family,
busy social life.
I'm sure Becca had
things going on, too.
So looking forward
to catching up.
I bet.
Kelly, I'm afraid
I'm going to have to
take your dress.
You can change
into a gym uniform.
This stain's from one of
the ill-advised bubbles.
Just red dye.
Isn't it?
Well, it's nice to see
a couple of gorgeous ladies
printing and swabbing.
And casually trampling
our search and seizure rights.
Kidding.
The CSUs I work with, they
could take a few pointers.
- Are you law enforcement?
- Attorney.
Partner at
Hoyt and Mendelsohn.
Manhattan.
I was supposed to take
a red-eye back tonight,
prep for a big depo.
But what's a reunion
without the valedictorian?
Yes, Becca and I,
we were on different
tracks in high school.
Never really got to
know each other.
I was Harvard-bound,
she was... enjoying herself.
And there he is.
Hey, Janet.
You know, Davey was
a brain back then.
If he applied himself,
he could've been a doctor.
Instead of, um...
I'm the assistant
medical examiner.
Glorified lgor.
Kidding, Davey.
Nice seeing you, Janet.
MAN:
Hey, lgor!
(laughter)
MAN:
Becca was amazing.
We met and we married last year.
That's a tough one,
losing your wife.
I'm sorry, Mr. Foster.
Were you and Becca together
the whole evening?
No, I couldn't keep up
with her.
Between the hosting
and the mingling.
I just parked myself
at this table with a scotch.
Did you notice any tension
between Becca
and her classmates?
No.
As far as I know,
Becca had lost touch
with everybody here.
Tonight was supposed
to be about her...
reconnecting.
(sighs)
Thanks.
Watch the blood, boys.
(phone ringing)
Stokes.
SANDERS:
Hey, it's Greg.
I just finished
with all the blades
I brought back to the lab.
No blood on any of them.
That's a bummer.
Hey, you know that green sliver
we pulled
from the victim's palm?
SANDERS:
Yeah, it's glass,
but Hodges couldn't
identify the source.
Think I just did.
Let me call you back.
(beep)
(copier whirring)
(grunting)
(copier whirring)
PHILLIPS: Decedent's heart
is grayish in color.
It's consistent with
exsanguination.
Otherwise healthy.
Stomach contents.
Smell of alcohol.
Presence of a partially-digested
bready substance.
It's a crab puff.
Didn't you eat, like,
seven of them
while you were lurking
around in the corners?
I can't believe
you get to see me naked.
Phillip Davis, rando weirdo
who probably had a
massive crush on me.
This is my job.
I am the assistant
medical examiner.
They throw you that title
instead of your 50 cent raise?
If you're so smart,
how come you're not a doctor?
Well, I was planning
on being one...
Phil.
Concentrate.
Don't mutilate.
It's David.
And I didn't have
a crush on you,
I had a crush
on Lizzie Burns, so...
Concentrate, Phil.
(door opens)
David.
ROBBINS:
David?
Everything okay?
Yeah. Uh, fine.
Uh, fine, Doc.
Um, stomach lining...
uh, the stomach
lining exhibits
a crater-shaped sore.
It's approximately
12 millimeters.
It looks like a peptic ulcer.
One centimeter
diameter erosion
of the lower
esophageal sphincter.
Could be acid reflux.
Exacerbated by stress.
Or alcohol consumption.
(echoing):
One...
vodka tonic.
Moving on to the throat.
The, uh...
epiglottis is inflamed.
Likely result of the trauma
from the laceration.
The majority of
the sharp-force trauma
is centered in the trachea,
with an irregular cut
through the adjacent tissue,
transecting the carotid artery.
Also noting an incidental
injury to the victim's lip.
Possible cold sore,
- often associated with...
- Don't even.
...herpes outbreak.
BECCA:
Charming.
No wonder you didn't start
dating until you were 26.
25, technically.
Pardon?
Uh, nothing, uh...
Likely C.O.D.
Is exsanguination caused by
the transection
of the carotid artery.
Gee, you think the giant gorge
ripped through my throat
might have done it?
Paging Dr. Einstein.
I'm gonna get some air.
(hard rock instrumental playing)
RUSSELL: Copier has a pretty
good memory, doesn't it?
Maybe you do, too, Kelly.
Is that why you attacked Becca?
Some old grudge stirred up?
I didn't kill her.
That fight at the copier?
If I didn't stop her,
she would've
terrorized the reunion.
Wow.
What does that mean?
She was up to her old tricks.
"Games Bitches Play."
Um, I'm sorry?
She made these.
"Reunion Bingo.
"As you booze
and schmooze your way
"through the evening,
fill in the names
"of your classmates who have
"the following quirks:
"Bulimic.
"Screwing the babysitter.
Snorted Daddy's fortune."
Five in a row gets a prize.
Becca started
handing the cards out.
I grabbed them from everyone.
She went to the storeroom
to copy more.
/ fo//owed her. / stopped her.
I can't believe
you're doing this.
No! No!
- Don't touch it!
- Give it!
(copier whirring)
Ah, you bitch.
She was fine.
Went back to the party.
You know, a stupid little game
may ruffle some feathers,
but it hardly warrants
an assault.
Or worse.
This wasn't some innocent prank.
Becca's husband...
Grady Foster.
Yes, we spoke to him.
He's a therapist.
Mm-hmm.
He's my therapist.
I had no idea I was
pouring my secrets out
to the husband
of the gossip queen,
until I saw the two of them
walk into the party together.
I'm on that card.
Klepto.
Working on it.
Good.
I didn't kill Becca.
But I bet anything
there are other alums
who are patients of Grady.
RUSSELL:
Whose secrets ended up
on Becca's bingo card.
Would give any of them a reason
to stick a knife in her throat.
So, I just spoke
with Grady Foster.
He refused to divulge any of
the names of his patients.
Confidentiality.
And he insisted
that his wife knew nothing
about what happened
in those sessions.
So Becca, what,
just guessed
at all these secrets?
FINLAY:
Maybe.
Okay.
So, the one patient
- we do know...
- Klepto Kelly.
Right. Has an alibi.
The photos from the
partygoers' cameras
put her at the far side
of the room
for the 15 minutes before
the bloody bubbles
actually start to appear.
So, she may be guilty
of a few misdemeanors,
but she certainly
didn't kill anybody.
Anybody on this card
with a secret had motive.
Even if Becca was guessing,
the people with the secrets
did not know that.
But if Grady won't help us,
there's no way for us
to determine who
those people are.
- Mm. - Did David say anything
about the card?
He said he didn't want to
"disparage anybody
by guessing."
His words.
- A true gentleman.
- Mm.
(cell phone ringing)
He's really hoping he can
help solve this one.
Well, if it helps us catch
a killer, I'm all for it.
- Nick needs me.
- Bye.
Uh, figured out
a way to determine
which alumni are patients
of Becca's husband.
Which makes them
all suspects, right?
Theory to beat.
STOKES:
Surveillance footage
from a gas station
next to Grady's therapy office.
Catches the whole parking lot.
Very smart.
STOKES:
Catalog the license plates
of all the cars
entering the lot,
run them through DMV
against the alumnis' cars.
(chuckles)
Nice one, bud.
STOKES: Yeah, I thought
you might like that.
So, what was your high school
experience like?
I was usually, uh,
in the back of the van,
sandwiched between
a guitar case and a hitchhiker.
Oh, that's right.
I'm sorry, I forgot the, uh,
traveling family caravan.
Wasn't that bad.
Depending on the hitchhiker.
RUSSELL:
Little late for a visit.
Now, who's that?
Zoom in.
That's our victim,
Becca Sabin, two nights ago.
Digging up dirt.
Wait a minute, now, who's that?
That's Grady Foster.
Her better half.
BRASS:
You lied to us, Mr. Foster.
You said that Becca
never had access
to your patients' secrets.
She did.
And when she started spilling
those secrets at the reunion,
jeopardizing your
whole practice,
you shut her up.
Of course I was mad
with her for snooping.
I figured she was just curious.
Secret lives of strangers.
I didn't realize
she knew any of my patients
until I saw those patients
at the reunion.
Well, that's convenient.
Additional suspects,
all mingling together,
makes it easier
to commit the crime.
Do you not think I knew
the kind of woman I married?
I had Becca pegged
within five minutes
of meeting her.
Narcissistic.
Manipulative.
With a near-pathological
hunger for gossip.
And I loved her for all of it.
I never laid a hand on her.
Now, unless you've got evidence
of anything other than
a... a marital spat...
...I believe this session's
time is up.
(whirring, beeping)
Is that the last
of the 99 red balloons?
I've swabbed way more than
99 of these bastards.
There's a few on that post
there behind you,
that I haven't gotten to yet.
Nick said that the therapist
office surveillance
didn't turn up any alums
who were patients.
I thought we'd already
spun the suspect bottle
to Dr. Hubby himself.
No physical evidence
against him.
Did you go to your
high school reunion?
Ten-year was last year.
Didn't make the trip out.
You?
The one area of history
I choose not to dwell in?
My high school years.
But you...
beautiful blonde,
sunny SoCal...
you must have loved it.
Yeah.
Could've been worse.
I've got some trace on this one.
(cell phone beeps)
Just got a text from Brass.
Some kid tweeted LVPD,
"You idiots missed a dead body
at Sagebrush High.
50 yard line."
# #
Well, he's breathing.
I think I found the culprit.
Sir.
(shouts)
Come on!
(grunts)
Come on!
Gooch!
They're running the blitz.
Block, damn it! Block!
(growling):
Oh, yeah!
(groans)
We need a first down.
You need a time-out.
Greg, we need backup.
Super Dave.
Hey, Nick.
Um, Russell said that
I could check in.
Um... I heard about
the new suspect.
Yeah, Sean McHenry.
You know him?
Yeah, I know Sean.
Big man on campus.
Quarterback.
He dated Becca Sabin
all four years.
- Really?
- Mm-hmm.
Well, her bloody handprint
ended up on his back last night.
Wow.
Well...
for what it's worth,
he was a colossal jerk
in high school.
- Really?
- Yeah.
Hmm.
Janet.
What are you doing here?
I'm representing my client.
I'm sorry, why would you
want to help him?
Easy, Dave.
Take it easy, buddy.
He called me,
requested my counsel.
If you've got some
post-wedgie grudge
against the guy, grow up.
High school's over, David.
What do you do
for a living, Mr. McHenry?
He's an educator.
What capacity?
A gym teacher.
Gym teacher.
Okay. What grade?
- Junior high.
- STOKES: Junior high.
Well, that's a tough age,
isn't it? (chuckles)
Hey, speaking of,
it must be hard
to have your best days
15 years behind you, huh?
(scoffs)
How's that?
Wrangling dodge balls
for little kids?
(chuckles)
When all your classmates have
passed you by, forgotten you...
well, like with Becca,
she married
a much more successful man.
(scoffs)
Becca was still into me.
- Sean...
- She was.
She was all over me.
- At the reunion?
- Yeah.
She took me back
into that storeroom.
We were making out
like we were 16.
Or...
maybe you wanted it to be...
like you were 16 again.
Huh? You followed her
back there,
she shut you down,
you grabbed the knife...
- No. - What about the blood
on your back?
She had a little cut
on her palm.
That's probably
how the blood got there.
She was into me. She was.
STOKES:
Come on...
Sean, really?
She was.
For a minute,
and then she backed off,
said she had to get back
to the party.
- And you just let her go?
- Yeah.
- I'd had enough of the reunion.
- Okay.
Then what?
Then I went
to the closest liquor store.
Took the bottle out
under the Friday night lights
to drink alone.
'Cause you're right.
Those were the best days
of my life.
Can this be over?
It can.
You're not holding my client?
No. No, no.
Don't go far, Sean.
(wry chuckle)
Never have.
Trace from your burst bubble is
asbestos and acrylic tan paint.
Piece of popcorn ceiling.
Mm-hmm. As you no doubt
remember witnessing
at the temple to 1974
that is my mother's home.
Note the addition of a second
gray-colored paint
on said ceiling kernel.
Ceiling in the cafeteria
is white.
Ceiling in the storeroom is tan.
Take a look at this.
Ceiling access
panel... gray paint.
Right above the bubble tray.
BRODY:
Someone opened it.
# #
(gasps)
Are those guys gonna blow up
all of our evidence?
Not all of it.
Whoa!
Bomb squad managed to
separate the non-explosive
parts from the bomb,
served it up for us to analyze.
And I got the ceiling
panel over there, too.
Morgan said that they were
basic pipe bombs.
SANDERS:
Yeah.
The pipe end caps
were loosely sealed,
so the detonation would have
been all flare, no bang.
Yeah, well,
the bomber didn't know that.
- Mm.
- Okay, so here's a new theory:
Bomber sneaks
into the storeroom...
SANDERS: Becca picks the wrong
time to refi// the bubb/e tray.
Unplanned stabbing.
Killer flees without
detonating the bomb.
So, Sean McHenry is
still our prime suspect.
Yeah, Becca's bloody handprint's
on his shirt.
All right,
what do we have here?
Uh, ignition device.
Some consumer electronics item.
I guess Hodges can dig
into that.
Yeah.
Duct tape that wrapped the bomb
and attached these to it.
Looks like plaster.
Too fragile to be shrapnel.
Maybe a form
of the bomber's signature?
These pieces fit together.
I'll work on this puzzle.
So, I've been looking through
Sean McHenry's Internet and
e-mail history
for any research
he might have been doing,
and bomb-making came up empty.
But I might have found out
why he planted it.
Why is that?
Well, he got pink-slipped
from his gym-teaching job
last week.
That's a bit of a leap
to bombing a reunion, isn't it?
It really had nothing
to do with the reunion.
The school board just voted
to eliminate gym class
from the district junior highs.
Sean got all
bent out of shape,
demanding that they rethink
their decision.
Of course they didn't,
he's out of a job.
Now,
where do you think
the school board
is gonna meet next?
Sagebrush High,
school cafeteria.
And the entire school board
is gonna be sitting
along that very same wall
where we found that bomb.
So the reunion was not
the bomb's target.
It was the opportunity
to plant it.
I'll call Brass.
- Russell.
- Yeah?
Just hit the liquor store
near the high school
to check out
Sean McHenry's story.
Store clerk has him on camera
buying whiskey within an hour
of Becca's death.
That much we already know
from Sean, though, don't we?
But big man on campus
left out one big thing.
A bright yellow Dumpster
on the edge of the store lot.
It was begging to be searched.
And I found this.
Sean bought whiskey,
but he also dumped the weapon.
Print this
and get it over to Henry.
Let's get a profile
on the blood.
Nice work.
Sean McHenry, LVPD!
Get your hands up.
SEAN:
What the hell is this?
You're under arrest.
You, too. Out.
Counseling your client,
I see.
You red-staters still familiar
with the notion of warrants?
Yes.
I have two.
One to arrest Sean
for the murder
of Becca Sabin,
and the other one
gives me the right
to search for explosives.
What?
I don't understand.
You didn't tell your girlfriend
about the bomb
you planted at the school?
What are you talking about?
Your vendetta
against the school board,
how you were planning
to blow them all away.
You mean, telling them that
gym class is the only thing
keeping some of these kids sane?
You think
I'd hurt people over that?
Get him out of here.
(Sean stammers)
Can I at least
put some clothes on?
What you got?
I ran DNA on the blood
from the knife.
It is Becca Sabin's blood.
But?
There was something odd.
The b/ood was comp/ete/y
dried out.
Dehydrated.
/ had to soak the samp/e
for 20 minutes
before it wou/d disso/ve.
/t was a /itt/e frustrating,
but fina//y / had something
/ cou/d work with.
What would cause that
level of dehydration?
Normally? Long-term aging
of the blood
or exposure
to extreme temperatures.
None of which goes
along with our story.
Guy plants a bomb, stabs
a girl, tosses the knife.
Which means
there's more to the story.
(chuckles)
Thanks.
Yeah.
# #
(trilling)
SANDERS:
This p/aster mask
was attached to the bomb.
Whoever this girl is...
...she means something
to the bomber.
I thought you might
recognize her.
Her name's Caroline.
You know her?
I did.
Till she killed herself.
PHILLIPS: Caroline Hartwell
was a fellow misfit.
Two years behind me.
I used to see her in the library
reading all the Ray Bradbury.
I like Ray Bradbury.
Some of the seniors...
Sean McHenry, Becca Sabin...
they used to make fun of her.
The way she dressed,
the scar on her lip.
Spring of '98,
she was a sophomore,
and she hung herself.
Tell me about this.
Art students would make
these masks of themselves.
Then they'd put them up on the
wall until the end of the year.
So anyone could have taken
Caroline's mask, right,
and kept it until now,
and then used it in the bomb?
Revenge on her behalf.
Maybe.
Guys, I got a print off
the bomb's duct tape.
AFIS match to a work card.
Man named Max Dinello.
Also, I found a partial print
from him on the inside
of the ceiling panel.
Oh, here he is.
Class of '98.
He was friends with Caroline.
There's no Max Dinello
on the list
of people processed
at the reunion.
PHILLIPS:
Cut the hair, add a few years...
- Hey.
- Hey.
I spoke to him.
He must have snuck out
before the police arrived.
I'll call Brass.
Look, planting the bomb
and stabbing Becca have
to be related, right?
Yeah, I think so.
Timeline's too tight
to be a coincidence.
Yeah, but it
doesn't make sense.
If Max Dinello's the bomber
and the stabber,
then how did the knife end up
at the liquor store
that Sean McHenry went to?
Max could have
planted it, right?
I mean,
if what he was after
was revenge for Caroline, then
framing one of her tormentors
accomplishes the same thing.
But how did Max know that
Sean went to that liquor store?
Hey, guys.
I was looking up
background on Max Dinello.
He is a teacher
at an alternative school
for troubled teens.
And I was checking out
the school's Web site.
I came across this photo.
That's Sean's attorney,
Janet Morris.
SANDERS:
Yeah, only, she's not
an attorney anymore.
She's a lunch lady.
You kidding me?
SANDERS:
The school confirmed it.
She lives at home
with her parents in Henderson.
Unis are on their way
to pick her up now.
So Max and Janet
are working together.
The vengeful outcast
and the tarnished golden girl
joining forces?
RUSSELL:
Max plants the bomb,
stabs Becca
when she catches him.
Janet plants the knife and then
frames Sean for the crime.
(phone chimes)
Gets to play big-shot attorney.
Max Dinello's not home.
Brass has put a broadcast out
on his car.
- (knocking on glass)
- You have a minute?
I was looking for Henry,
but he's not around.
You want to talk?
About how you let
the killer flee?
Good one.
I'm gonna look for Henry.
David. David. Come on.
I'm kidding. Come in.
Grab a lab coat.
You know, even in high school,
I knew that
these were much cooler than
any stupid letterman's jacket.
Attracts a finer
breed of woman, too.
Well, you can't argue
with Elisabetta.
Only because she can't conjugate
when she's angry.
(chuckles)
So, uh...
- what's got you down?
- Just wish I had
more answers, instead of feeling
like that lost kid again.
Even on a normal case, we're not
working crossword puzzles here.
It can get tough.
And, whether you like it or not,
you are involved.
It does help
to have a gorgeous Mediterranean
goddess waiting for you at home,
if you can arrange that.
- (chuckles)
- Although...
I have to say, you're doing
quite well for yourself.
Hmm.
Something bothering you?
HODGES:
The evidence.
I'm thinking this bomb
is a blast from the past.
What do you mean?
Start with... duct tape's old.
The logo
on the end of it was used
by the company from '93 to 2000.
The ignition components
are from a walkie-talkie
that was manufactured in 1998.
And the batteries
that were in it
have a "use by" date
that puts their sale
at spring '98.
- So what are you saying?
- I'm saying
I don't think that this bomb
was placed at the reunion
for something
that happened in 1998.
I think it was
placed there in 1998.
But we know that the ceiling
panel was accessed
during the reunion.
Right. By your pal Max Dinello.
So what was he doing?
Like, adjusting something
on the bomb?
Or... defusing it.
When I was lifting
prints off of the tape,
I noticed these spots.
As if something dripped on it,
sapping all the moisture
from the adhesive.
What could do that?
This.
Liquid nitrogen.
Sometimes used
in defusing bombs.
Poured over the components,
it temporarily freezes them
so that the bomb
can be removed safely.
I'm almost positive
that some liquid nitrogen
got splashed onto this bomb.
Henry did say that the blood
he found on the knife
was dehydrated, like it had been
exposed to extreme temperatures.
Thanks.
Tissue, tissue. Throat, lip.
The sample from Becca's lip
doesn't exhibit
the intranuclear inclusions
of a viral sore.
Instead, the cells have
irregular vacuoles
and darker nuclear chromatin,
qualities caused
by the flash-freezing of tissue,
as you'd expect from
contact with liquid nitrogen.
Now, ingesting liquid nitrogen
cou/d have caused
the swo//en epig/ottis,
the irritation that / had
attributed to the acid reflux
and the injury to the stomach
that / had previous/y deemed
an u/cer.
They were caused by one event.
Ingesting liquid nitrogen.
Exactly.
That's very impressive,
you guys.
Hey, not me.
All David.
Mr. Dinello.
Look, I teach my students
to own up to their crimes.
I failed to do that.
But I'll do it now.
You don't have
to waste your time.
I killed Becca Sabin.
Okay. Um, speaking of time,
l-let's, um...
let's back up 15 years.
You placed a bomb
in the ceiling above the spot
where Becca and Sean
and the other cool kids
had lunch every day, right?
You wanted vengeance
for Caroline Hartwell,
for what those kids
made her do to herself.
But you never set
that bomb off back then.
Why?
A teacher.
Mr. Miller.
Math.
He was one of the good ones.
He saw some of the things
that I had...
(sighs)
Scrawled in my notebooks, and...
I told him to leave me alone.
He told me enough people
had done that already.
He didn't know about the bomb
or what I was up to,
but...
he said whatever it was,
it wasn't worth it.
So, 15 years,
you become a teacher yourself,
helping kids going
through the same stuff.
But that bomb... still there.
Every day.
Surrounded by innocent kids.
I was pretty sure that it
wouldn't go off accidentally.
I told myself that. For years.
But there was always a chance.
And if that bomb did go off,
hurt somebody...
Then everything
that I had done to change,
to help my students change,
it all would've been wiped out.
So the reunion was a chance
for you to sneak back in
and make sure
that didn't happen.
What are you doing?
(groaning)
Why didn't you just
report the bomb to the police?
With everything that's been
in the news, I couldn't bear
the kids at that school,
teachers like Mr. Miller,
hearing that the same thing
had almost happened
at Sagebrush High, too.
So, how does that lead
to a stabbing?
MAX: The /iquid nitrogen
was choking her.
There was no time.
/ had to do something.
(choking)
Shh, shh!
Relax, relax, relax.
An emergency tracheotomy.
She was struggling.
Fighting him, so...
it didn't work.
MAX:
She wou/dn't ho/d sti//.
She was terrified of me.
And then she was gone.
Max wanted to turn himself in.
I told him not to.
He was just trying to do good.
He didn't deserve
to have his life ruined.
I put the knife in
the nitrogen tank.
I told him to get out of there.
I'd get rid of the evidence.
So Max didn't deserve
to have his life ruined?
But Sean McHenry, he did?
You knew about the liquor store
and planted the knife there.
You framed him.
You got to act out
your lawyer fantasy.
You got to sleep with
the class stud as a nice perk.
You didn't lie about Harvard.
How does somebody
at the top of their class
end up here?
I couldn't wait to get out
of high school.
Into the real world.
I busted my ass.
Undergrad, law school.
100-hour weeks as a grunt
at a New York firm.
But nothing changed.
Pretty got promoted,
gossip counted
more than achievement,
and one day I just broke down
because...
High school never ended.
So what'll happen to them?
Max and Janet?
Doesn't look good.
Obstruction, accessory,
maybe even manslaughter.
You know what I think
their real crime was?
Getting lost in their pasts.
Janet trying to live up
to old ambitions.
Mm-hmm.
Max trying to undo
an old mistake.
I was one of those freaks
who liked high school.
Come on.
I mean, there are plenty
of other contenders
- for the worst years of my life.
- (Phillips chuckles)
But what do you get
for dwelling on them?
Anxiety, uh, self-loathing
and high blood pressure.
You know, I think at some point,
you just have to move forward.
(cell phone chiming)
Excuse me.
Hi, honey.
How long between contractions?
(Phillips chuckles, baby coos)
Guys.
Come on in.
(Phillips chuckles)
(Phillips chuckles)
Guys, Joshua Adam Phillips.
- Doc, you're first.
- (whispers): I'd be honored.
Hey, young man. Yes.
Amy, he's perfect.
- Thank you.
- (Robbins chuckles)
I am utterly envious.
You're a lucky guy.
I am.
# #
Why must I go through
this awful ritual?
Don't be so dramatic, David.
It's just a high school reunion.
The only reason I bought
these stupid tickets
was to show off
my beautiful wife.
Who's oh-so flattered,
but too pregnant to stand
and too cheap to let you waste
both $100 tickets.
Sagebrush High class of '98.
It-it made
Lord of the F/ies
look like Fantasy /s/and.
And the only way I survived
those four awful years
was by being utterly invisible.
And now I am supposed to go back
without being
forced at gunpoint?
I bet there'll be cupcakes.
What if you go into labor
and I'm not here?
It's not going to happen,
but I'll call your cell.
The reunion will be
good for you.
Everyone will see
the amazing guy you've become.
And you'll see how everyone's
grown up, evolved.
I love you.
Go.
You're gonna have fun!
# Yo, I'll tell you what
I want #
# What I really, really want #
# So tell me what you want, what
you really, really want... #
- (men chattering, laughing)
- Come on, man!
Don't fight it!
- (grunts)
- Hey!
(laughs)
- (laughter and chatter continue)
- Let's go!
(Spice Girls' "Wanna Be"
continues in background)
- Hey.
- Hey.
H-Hi, Becca.
Name?
David Phillips.
I don't have a Phillip Davis.
No, David Phill...
It's fine.
Here.
(table thumps)
Sorry.
# Give it to me, baby #
# Uh-huh, uh-huh #
# Give it to me, baby #
# Uh-huh, uh-huh #
# And all the girlies say
I'm pretty fly for a white guy #
# #
# Uno, dos, tres, cuatro,
cinco, cinco, seis #
# You know it's kinda hard
just to get along today #
# Our subject isn't cool
but he fakes it anyway... #
Hey. Come on.
# He may not have style #
# But everything he lacks,
well, he makes up in denial #
# So don't debate,
a player straight... #
MAN:
And the fourth most
exciting thing about working in
insurance-related
actuarial science
is the way you see
the world differently.
This place is
a den of liability.
Rising exponentially
with each drink that's consumed.
Half of these people
aren't even chewing
their hors d'oeuvres
to a safe consistency.
Not to mention the bacterial
populations in the lavatories.
I mean, you can get
any number of STDs...
- Excuse me.
- Oh.
Well, be careful, they're
running rampant in there.
Running rampant in there.
Hey, guys, cake.
(burbling)
Becca.
- RUSSELL: Hey.
- PHILLIPS: Hey.
You all right?
Yeah, no, I'm fine.
I-I've seen dead bodies before.
But, uh...
It's not the same, huh?
I spoke to her an hour ago.
Well, Doc's gonna be here
in a couple of minutes.
You able to keep everybody away
from the immediate scene
till the policemen came?
I did the best I could,
but former hall monitor
doesn't exactly demand respect
around here.
Did you know the
victim really well?
From afar.
Becca Sabin was queen
of the class.
A head cheerleader,
social secretary.
She planned all this.
Well, most of it.
So, queen of the class
15 years after her reign.
Question is: Which one of
her subjects did this?
# Who... are you? #
# Who, who, who, who? #
# Who... are you? #
# Who, who, who, who? #
# I really wanna know #
# Who... are you? #
- # Oh-oh-oh #
- # Who... #
# Come on, tell me who are you,
you, you #
# Are you! #
ROBBINS:
Irregular laceration.
Judging by the amount of blood,
appears to have severed
an artery
and bled out
into the bubble tray.
The assailant might've grabbed
one of these...
hand-me-down weapons.
There's a whole confiscated
armory here.
SANDERS:
I never understood the kids
who'd bring this stuff
to school.
I mean, showing off
your pair of nunchucks
- is worth expulsion?
- Yeah, right?
Well, that's addled essence
of adolescence.
Brain's prefrontal cortex
doesn't fully develop
until your 20s.
Means your teen years are spent
oblivious to consequences
and prone to reckless behavior.
Our killer's about 15 years
too late for that excuse.
Yeah, you think a decade
and a half
would let everyone grow into
mature and caring adults.
Not always the case.
SANDERS:
Well, no visible blood
- (distant siren wails)
- On any of the sharp implements.
I'll bring them
back to the lab anyways.
Got a bloody handprint
in the bubble tray.
No ridge detail.
Killer may have wiped
their hands in the soap.
Trace from the killer
could've been
carried out in the bubbles.
Which means it could've
landed anywhere
on anyone at the party.
Hundreds of popped,
red bubbles out there;
may have to check them all.
Why don't you start
with a smaller task.
I found this in her palm.
STOKES:
Looks like glass.
WOMAN: Becca was my best friend
in school.
Kind of ruled the place.
Kate and Pippa.
Were you still close?
We drifted.
Career, loving family,
busy social life.
I'm sure Becca had
things going on, too.
So looking forward
to catching up.
I bet.
Kelly, I'm afraid
I'm going to have to
take your dress.
You can change
into a gym uniform.
This stain's from one of
the ill-advised bubbles.
Just red dye.
Isn't it?
Well, it's nice to see
a couple of gorgeous ladies
printing and swabbing.
And casually trampling
our search and seizure rights.
Kidding.
The CSUs I work with, they
could take a few pointers.
- Are you law enforcement?
- Attorney.
Partner at
Hoyt and Mendelsohn.
Manhattan.
I was supposed to take
a red-eye back tonight,
prep for a big depo.
But what's a reunion
without the valedictorian?
Yes, Becca and I,
we were on different
tracks in high school.
Never really got to
know each other.
I was Harvard-bound,
she was... enjoying herself.
And there he is.
Hey, Janet.
You know, Davey was
a brain back then.
If he applied himself,
he could've been a doctor.
Instead of, um...
I'm the assistant
medical examiner.
Glorified lgor.
Kidding, Davey.
Nice seeing you, Janet.
MAN:
Hey, lgor!
(laughter)
MAN:
Becca was amazing.
We met and we married last year.
That's a tough one,
losing your wife.
I'm sorry, Mr. Foster.
Were you and Becca together
the whole evening?
No, I couldn't keep up
with her.
Between the hosting
and the mingling.
I just parked myself
at this table with a scotch.
Did you notice any tension
between Becca
and her classmates?
No.
As far as I know,
Becca had lost touch
with everybody here.
Tonight was supposed
to be about her...
reconnecting.
(sighs)
Thanks.
Watch the blood, boys.
(phone ringing)
Stokes.
SANDERS:
Hey, it's Greg.
I just finished
with all the blades
I brought back to the lab.
No blood on any of them.
That's a bummer.
Hey, you know that green sliver
we pulled
from the victim's palm?
SANDERS:
Yeah, it's glass,
but Hodges couldn't
identify the source.
Think I just did.
Let me call you back.
(beep)
(copier whirring)
(grunting)
(copier whirring)
PHILLIPS: Decedent's heart
is grayish in color.
It's consistent with
exsanguination.
Otherwise healthy.
Stomach contents.
Smell of alcohol.
Presence of a partially-digested
bready substance.
It's a crab puff.
Didn't you eat, like,
seven of them
while you were lurking
around in the corners?
I can't believe
you get to see me naked.
Phillip Davis, rando weirdo
who probably had a
massive crush on me.
This is my job.
I am the assistant
medical examiner.
They throw you that title
instead of your 50 cent raise?
If you're so smart,
how come you're not a doctor?
Well, I was planning
on being one...
Phil.
Concentrate.
Don't mutilate.
It's David.
And I didn't have
a crush on you,
I had a crush
on Lizzie Burns, so...
Concentrate, Phil.
(door opens)
David.
ROBBINS:
David?
Everything okay?
Yeah. Uh, fine.
Uh, fine, Doc.
Um, stomach lining...
uh, the stomach
lining exhibits
a crater-shaped sore.
It's approximately
12 millimeters.
It looks like a peptic ulcer.
One centimeter
diameter erosion
of the lower
esophageal sphincter.
Could be acid reflux.
Exacerbated by stress.
Or alcohol consumption.
(echoing):
One...
vodka tonic.
Moving on to the throat.
The, uh...
epiglottis is inflamed.
Likely result of the trauma
from the laceration.
The majority of
the sharp-force trauma
is centered in the trachea,
with an irregular cut
through the adjacent tissue,
transecting the carotid artery.
Also noting an incidental
injury to the victim's lip.
Possible cold sore,
- often associated with...
- Don't even.
...herpes outbreak.
BECCA:
Charming.
No wonder you didn't start
dating until you were 26.
25, technically.
Pardon?
Uh, nothing, uh...
Likely C.O.D.
Is exsanguination caused by
the transection
of the carotid artery.
Gee, you think the giant gorge
ripped through my throat
might have done it?
Paging Dr. Einstein.
I'm gonna get some air.
(hard rock instrumental playing)
RUSSELL: Copier has a pretty
good memory, doesn't it?
Maybe you do, too, Kelly.
Is that why you attacked Becca?
Some old grudge stirred up?
I didn't kill her.
That fight at the copier?
If I didn't stop her,
she would've
terrorized the reunion.
Wow.
What does that mean?
She was up to her old tricks.
"Games Bitches Play."
Um, I'm sorry?
She made these.
"Reunion Bingo.
"As you booze
and schmooze your way
"through the evening,
fill in the names
"of your classmates who have
"the following quirks:
"Bulimic.
"Screwing the babysitter.
Snorted Daddy's fortune."
Five in a row gets a prize.
Becca started
handing the cards out.
I grabbed them from everyone.
She went to the storeroom
to copy more.
/ fo//owed her. / stopped her.
I can't believe
you're doing this.
No! No!
- Don't touch it!
- Give it!
(copier whirring)
Ah, you bitch.
She was fine.
Went back to the party.
You know, a stupid little game
may ruffle some feathers,
but it hardly warrants
an assault.
Or worse.
This wasn't some innocent prank.
Becca's husband...
Grady Foster.
Yes, we spoke to him.
He's a therapist.
Mm-hmm.
He's my therapist.
I had no idea I was
pouring my secrets out
to the husband
of the gossip queen,
until I saw the two of them
walk into the party together.
I'm on that card.
Klepto.
Working on it.
Good.
I didn't kill Becca.
But I bet anything
there are other alums
who are patients of Grady.
RUSSELL:
Whose secrets ended up
on Becca's bingo card.
Would give any of them a reason
to stick a knife in her throat.
So, I just spoke
with Grady Foster.
He refused to divulge any of
the names of his patients.
Confidentiality.
And he insisted
that his wife knew nothing
about what happened
in those sessions.
So Becca, what,
just guessed
at all these secrets?
FINLAY:
Maybe.
Okay.
So, the one patient
- we do know...
- Klepto Kelly.
Right. Has an alibi.
The photos from the
partygoers' cameras
put her at the far side
of the room
for the 15 minutes before
the bloody bubbles
actually start to appear.
So, she may be guilty
of a few misdemeanors,
but she certainly
didn't kill anybody.
Anybody on this card
with a secret had motive.
Even if Becca was guessing,
the people with the secrets
did not know that.
But if Grady won't help us,
there's no way for us
to determine who
those people are.
- Mm. - Did David say anything
about the card?
He said he didn't want to
"disparage anybody
by guessing."
His words.
- A true gentleman.
- Mm.
(cell phone ringing)
He's really hoping he can
help solve this one.
Well, if it helps us catch
a killer, I'm all for it.
- Nick needs me.
- Bye.
Uh, figured out
a way to determine
which alumni are patients
of Becca's husband.
Which makes them
all suspects, right?
Theory to beat.
STOKES:
Surveillance footage
from a gas station
next to Grady's therapy office.
Catches the whole parking lot.
Very smart.
STOKES:
Catalog the license plates
of all the cars
entering the lot,
run them through DMV
against the alumnis' cars.
(chuckles)
Nice one, bud.
STOKES: Yeah, I thought
you might like that.
So, what was your high school
experience like?
I was usually, uh,
in the back of the van,
sandwiched between
a guitar case and a hitchhiker.
Oh, that's right.
I'm sorry, I forgot the, uh,
traveling family caravan.
Wasn't that bad.
Depending on the hitchhiker.
RUSSELL:
Little late for a visit.
Now, who's that?
Zoom in.
That's our victim,
Becca Sabin, two nights ago.
Digging up dirt.
Wait a minute, now, who's that?
That's Grady Foster.
Her better half.
BRASS:
You lied to us, Mr. Foster.
You said that Becca
never had access
to your patients' secrets.
She did.
And when she started spilling
those secrets at the reunion,
jeopardizing your
whole practice,
you shut her up.
Of course I was mad
with her for snooping.
I figured she was just curious.
Secret lives of strangers.
I didn't realize
she knew any of my patients
until I saw those patients
at the reunion.
Well, that's convenient.
Additional suspects,
all mingling together,
makes it easier
to commit the crime.
Do you not think I knew
the kind of woman I married?
I had Becca pegged
within five minutes
of meeting her.
Narcissistic.
Manipulative.
With a near-pathological
hunger for gossip.
And I loved her for all of it.
I never laid a hand on her.
Now, unless you've got evidence
of anything other than
a... a marital spat...
...I believe this session's
time is up.
(whirring, beeping)
Is that the last
of the 99 red balloons?
I've swabbed way more than
99 of these bastards.
There's a few on that post
there behind you,
that I haven't gotten to yet.
Nick said that the therapist
office surveillance
didn't turn up any alums
who were patients.
I thought we'd already
spun the suspect bottle
to Dr. Hubby himself.
No physical evidence
against him.
Did you go to your
high school reunion?
Ten-year was last year.
Didn't make the trip out.
You?
The one area of history
I choose not to dwell in?
My high school years.
But you...
beautiful blonde,
sunny SoCal...
you must have loved it.
Yeah.
Could've been worse.
I've got some trace on this one.
(cell phone beeps)
Just got a text from Brass.
Some kid tweeted LVPD,
"You idiots missed a dead body
at Sagebrush High.
50 yard line."
# #
Well, he's breathing.
I think I found the culprit.
Sir.
(shouts)
Come on!
(grunts)
Come on!
Gooch!
They're running the blitz.
Block, damn it! Block!
(growling):
Oh, yeah!
(groans)
We need a first down.
You need a time-out.
Greg, we need backup.
Super Dave.
Hey, Nick.
Um, Russell said that
I could check in.
Um... I heard about
the new suspect.
Yeah, Sean McHenry.
You know him?
Yeah, I know Sean.
Big man on campus.
Quarterback.
He dated Becca Sabin
all four years.
- Really?
- Mm-hmm.
Well, her bloody handprint
ended up on his back last night.
Wow.
Well...
for what it's worth,
he was a colossal jerk
in high school.
- Really?
- Yeah.
Hmm.
Janet.
What are you doing here?
I'm representing my client.
I'm sorry, why would you
want to help him?
Easy, Dave.
Take it easy, buddy.
He called me,
requested my counsel.
If you've got some
post-wedgie grudge
against the guy, grow up.
High school's over, David.
What do you do
for a living, Mr. McHenry?
He's an educator.
What capacity?
A gym teacher.
Gym teacher.
Okay. What grade?
- Junior high.
- STOKES: Junior high.
Well, that's a tough age,
isn't it? (chuckles)
Hey, speaking of,
it must be hard
to have your best days
15 years behind you, huh?
(scoffs)
How's that?
Wrangling dodge balls
for little kids?
(chuckles)
When all your classmates have
passed you by, forgotten you...
well, like with Becca,
she married
a much more successful man.
(scoffs)
Becca was still into me.
- Sean...
- She was.
She was all over me.
- At the reunion?
- Yeah.
She took me back
into that storeroom.
We were making out
like we were 16.
Or...
maybe you wanted it to be...
like you were 16 again.
Huh? You followed her
back there,
she shut you down,
you grabbed the knife...
- No. - What about the blood
on your back?
She had a little cut
on her palm.
That's probably
how the blood got there.
She was into me. She was.
STOKES:
Come on...
Sean, really?
She was.
For a minute,
and then she backed off,
said she had to get back
to the party.
- And you just let her go?
- Yeah.
- I'd had enough of the reunion.
- Okay.
Then what?
Then I went
to the closest liquor store.
Took the bottle out
under the Friday night lights
to drink alone.
'Cause you're right.
Those were the best days
of my life.
Can this be over?
It can.
You're not holding my client?
No. No, no.
Don't go far, Sean.
(wry chuckle)
Never have.
Trace from your burst bubble is
asbestos and acrylic tan paint.
Piece of popcorn ceiling.
Mm-hmm. As you no doubt
remember witnessing
at the temple to 1974
that is my mother's home.
Note the addition of a second
gray-colored paint
on said ceiling kernel.
Ceiling in the cafeteria
is white.
Ceiling in the storeroom is tan.
Take a look at this.
Ceiling access
panel... gray paint.
Right above the bubble tray.
BRODY:
Someone opened it.
# #
(gasps)
Are those guys gonna blow up
all of our evidence?
Not all of it.
Whoa!
Bomb squad managed to
separate the non-explosive
parts from the bomb,
served it up for us to analyze.
And I got the ceiling
panel over there, too.
Morgan said that they were
basic pipe bombs.
SANDERS:
Yeah.
The pipe end caps
were loosely sealed,
so the detonation would have
been all flare, no bang.
Yeah, well,
the bomber didn't know that.
- Mm.
- Okay, so here's a new theory:
Bomber sneaks
into the storeroom...
SANDERS: Becca picks the wrong
time to refi// the bubb/e tray.
Unplanned stabbing.
Killer flees without
detonating the bomb.
So, Sean McHenry is
still our prime suspect.
Yeah, Becca's bloody handprint's
on his shirt.
All right,
what do we have here?
Uh, ignition device.
Some consumer electronics item.
I guess Hodges can dig
into that.
Yeah.
Duct tape that wrapped the bomb
and attached these to it.
Looks like plaster.
Too fragile to be shrapnel.
Maybe a form
of the bomber's signature?
These pieces fit together.
I'll work on this puzzle.
So, I've been looking through
Sean McHenry's Internet and
e-mail history
for any research
he might have been doing,
and bomb-making came up empty.
But I might have found out
why he planted it.
Why is that?
Well, he got pink-slipped
from his gym-teaching job
last week.
That's a bit of a leap
to bombing a reunion, isn't it?
It really had nothing
to do with the reunion.
The school board just voted
to eliminate gym class
from the district junior highs.
Sean got all
bent out of shape,
demanding that they rethink
their decision.
Of course they didn't,
he's out of a job.
Now,
where do you think
the school board
is gonna meet next?
Sagebrush High,
school cafeteria.
And the entire school board
is gonna be sitting
along that very same wall
where we found that bomb.
So the reunion was not
the bomb's target.
It was the opportunity
to plant it.
I'll call Brass.
- Russell.
- Yeah?
Just hit the liquor store
near the high school
to check out
Sean McHenry's story.
Store clerk has him on camera
buying whiskey within an hour
of Becca's death.
That much we already know
from Sean, though, don't we?
But big man on campus
left out one big thing.
A bright yellow Dumpster
on the edge of the store lot.
It was begging to be searched.
And I found this.
Sean bought whiskey,
but he also dumped the weapon.
Print this
and get it over to Henry.
Let's get a profile
on the blood.
Nice work.
Sean McHenry, LVPD!
Get your hands up.
SEAN:
What the hell is this?
You're under arrest.
You, too. Out.
Counseling your client,
I see.
You red-staters still familiar
with the notion of warrants?
Yes.
I have two.
One to arrest Sean
for the murder
of Becca Sabin,
and the other one
gives me the right
to search for explosives.
What?
I don't understand.
You didn't tell your girlfriend
about the bomb
you planted at the school?
What are you talking about?
Your vendetta
against the school board,
how you were planning
to blow them all away.
You mean, telling them that
gym class is the only thing
keeping some of these kids sane?
You think
I'd hurt people over that?
Get him out of here.
(Sean stammers)
Can I at least
put some clothes on?
What you got?
I ran DNA on the blood
from the knife.
It is Becca Sabin's blood.
But?
There was something odd.
The b/ood was comp/ete/y
dried out.
Dehydrated.
/ had to soak the samp/e
for 20 minutes
before it wou/d disso/ve.
/t was a /itt/e frustrating,
but fina//y / had something
/ cou/d work with.
What would cause that
level of dehydration?
Normally? Long-term aging
of the blood
or exposure
to extreme temperatures.
None of which goes
along with our story.
Guy plants a bomb, stabs
a girl, tosses the knife.
Which means
there's more to the story.
(chuckles)
Thanks.
Yeah.
# #
(trilling)
SANDERS:
This p/aster mask
was attached to the bomb.
Whoever this girl is...
...she means something
to the bomber.
I thought you might
recognize her.
Her name's Caroline.
You know her?
I did.
Till she killed herself.
PHILLIPS: Caroline Hartwell
was a fellow misfit.
Two years behind me.
I used to see her in the library
reading all the Ray Bradbury.
I like Ray Bradbury.
Some of the seniors...
Sean McHenry, Becca Sabin...
they used to make fun of her.
The way she dressed,
the scar on her lip.
Spring of '98,
she was a sophomore,
and she hung herself.
Tell me about this.
Art students would make
these masks of themselves.
Then they'd put them up on the
wall until the end of the year.
So anyone could have taken
Caroline's mask, right,
and kept it until now,
and then used it in the bomb?
Revenge on her behalf.
Maybe.
Guys, I got a print off
the bomb's duct tape.
AFIS match to a work card.
Man named Max Dinello.
Also, I found a partial print
from him on the inside
of the ceiling panel.
Oh, here he is.
Class of '98.
He was friends with Caroline.
There's no Max Dinello
on the list
of people processed
at the reunion.
PHILLIPS:
Cut the hair, add a few years...
- Hey.
- Hey.
I spoke to him.
He must have snuck out
before the police arrived.
I'll call Brass.
Look, planting the bomb
and stabbing Becca have
to be related, right?
Yeah, I think so.
Timeline's too tight
to be a coincidence.
Yeah, but it
doesn't make sense.
If Max Dinello's the bomber
and the stabber,
then how did the knife end up
at the liquor store
that Sean McHenry went to?
Max could have
planted it, right?
I mean,
if what he was after
was revenge for Caroline, then
framing one of her tormentors
accomplishes the same thing.
But how did Max know that
Sean went to that liquor store?
Hey, guys.
I was looking up
background on Max Dinello.
He is a teacher
at an alternative school
for troubled teens.
And I was checking out
the school's Web site.
I came across this photo.
That's Sean's attorney,
Janet Morris.
SANDERS:
Yeah, only, she's not
an attorney anymore.
She's a lunch lady.
You kidding me?
SANDERS:
The school confirmed it.
She lives at home
with her parents in Henderson.
Unis are on their way
to pick her up now.
So Max and Janet
are working together.
The vengeful outcast
and the tarnished golden girl
joining forces?
RUSSELL:
Max plants the bomb,
stabs Becca
when she catches him.
Janet plants the knife and then
frames Sean for the crime.
(phone chimes)
Gets to play big-shot attorney.
Max Dinello's not home.
Brass has put a broadcast out
on his car.
- (knocking on glass)
- You have a minute?
I was looking for Henry,
but he's not around.
You want to talk?
About how you let
the killer flee?
Good one.
I'm gonna look for Henry.
David. David. Come on.
I'm kidding. Come in.
Grab a lab coat.
You know, even in high school,
I knew that
these were much cooler than
any stupid letterman's jacket.
Attracts a finer
breed of woman, too.
Well, you can't argue
with Elisabetta.
Only because she can't conjugate
when she's angry.
(chuckles)
So, uh...
- what's got you down?
- Just wish I had
more answers, instead of feeling
like that lost kid again.
Even on a normal case, we're not
working crossword puzzles here.
It can get tough.
And, whether you like it or not,
you are involved.
It does help
to have a gorgeous Mediterranean
goddess waiting for you at home,
if you can arrange that.
- (chuckles)
- Although...
I have to say, you're doing
quite well for yourself.
Hmm.
Something bothering you?
HODGES:
The evidence.
I'm thinking this bomb
is a blast from the past.
What do you mean?
Start with... duct tape's old.
The logo
on the end of it was used
by the company from '93 to 2000.
The ignition components
are from a walkie-talkie
that was manufactured in 1998.
And the batteries
that were in it
have a "use by" date
that puts their sale
at spring '98.
- So what are you saying?
- I'm saying
I don't think that this bomb
was placed at the reunion
for something
that happened in 1998.
I think it was
placed there in 1998.
But we know that the ceiling
panel was accessed
during the reunion.
Right. By your pal Max Dinello.
So what was he doing?
Like, adjusting something
on the bomb?
Or... defusing it.
When I was lifting
prints off of the tape,
I noticed these spots.
As if something dripped on it,
sapping all the moisture
from the adhesive.
What could do that?
This.
Liquid nitrogen.
Sometimes used
in defusing bombs.
Poured over the components,
it temporarily freezes them
so that the bomb
can be removed safely.
I'm almost positive
that some liquid nitrogen
got splashed onto this bomb.
Henry did say that the blood
he found on the knife
was dehydrated, like it had been
exposed to extreme temperatures.
Thanks.
Tissue, tissue. Throat, lip.
The sample from Becca's lip
doesn't exhibit
the intranuclear inclusions
of a viral sore.
Instead, the cells have
irregular vacuoles
and darker nuclear chromatin,
qualities caused
by the flash-freezing of tissue,
as you'd expect from
contact with liquid nitrogen.
Now, ingesting liquid nitrogen
cou/d have caused
the swo//en epig/ottis,
the irritation that / had
attributed to the acid reflux
and the injury to the stomach
that / had previous/y deemed
an u/cer.
They were caused by one event.
Ingesting liquid nitrogen.
Exactly.
That's very impressive,
you guys.
Hey, not me.
All David.
Mr. Dinello.
Look, I teach my students
to own up to their crimes.
I failed to do that.
But I'll do it now.
You don't have
to waste your time.
I killed Becca Sabin.
Okay. Um, speaking of time,
l-let's, um...
let's back up 15 years.
You placed a bomb
in the ceiling above the spot
where Becca and Sean
and the other cool kids
had lunch every day, right?
You wanted vengeance
for Caroline Hartwell,
for what those kids
made her do to herself.
But you never set
that bomb off back then.
Why?
A teacher.
Mr. Miller.
Math.
He was one of the good ones.
He saw some of the things
that I had...
(sighs)
Scrawled in my notebooks, and...
I told him to leave me alone.
He told me enough people
had done that already.
He didn't know about the bomb
or what I was up to,
but...
he said whatever it was,
it wasn't worth it.
So, 15 years,
you become a teacher yourself,
helping kids going
through the same stuff.
But that bomb... still there.
Every day.
Surrounded by innocent kids.
I was pretty sure that it
wouldn't go off accidentally.
I told myself that. For years.
But there was always a chance.
And if that bomb did go off,
hurt somebody...
Then everything
that I had done to change,
to help my students change,
it all would've been wiped out.
So the reunion was a chance
for you to sneak back in
and make sure
that didn't happen.
What are you doing?
(groaning)
Why didn't you just
report the bomb to the police?
With everything that's been
in the news, I couldn't bear
the kids at that school,
teachers like Mr. Miller,
hearing that the same thing
had almost happened
at Sagebrush High, too.
So, how does that lead
to a stabbing?
MAX: The /iquid nitrogen
was choking her.
There was no time.
/ had to do something.
(choking)
Shh, shh!
Relax, relax, relax.
An emergency tracheotomy.
She was struggling.
Fighting him, so...
it didn't work.
MAX:
She wou/dn't ho/d sti//.
She was terrified of me.
And then she was gone.
Max wanted to turn himself in.
I told him not to.
He was just trying to do good.
He didn't deserve
to have his life ruined.
I put the knife in
the nitrogen tank.
I told him to get out of there.
I'd get rid of the evidence.
So Max didn't deserve
to have his life ruined?
But Sean McHenry, he did?
You knew about the liquor store
and planted the knife there.
You framed him.
You got to act out
your lawyer fantasy.
You got to sleep with
the class stud as a nice perk.
You didn't lie about Harvard.
How does somebody
at the top of their class
end up here?
I couldn't wait to get out
of high school.
Into the real world.
I busted my ass.
Undergrad, law school.
100-hour weeks as a grunt
at a New York firm.
But nothing changed.
Pretty got promoted,
gossip counted
more than achievement,
and one day I just broke down
because...
High school never ended.
So what'll happen to them?
Max and Janet?
Doesn't look good.
Obstruction, accessory,
maybe even manslaughter.
You know what I think
their real crime was?
Getting lost in their pasts.
Janet trying to live up
to old ambitions.
Mm-hmm.
Max trying to undo
an old mistake.
I was one of those freaks
who liked high school.
Come on.
I mean, there are plenty
of other contenders
- for the worst years of my life.
- (Phillips chuckles)
But what do you get
for dwelling on them?
Anxiety, uh, self-loathing
and high blood pressure.
You know, I think at some point,
you just have to move forward.
(cell phone chiming)
Excuse me.
Hi, honey.
How long between contractions?
(Phillips chuckles, baby coos)
Guys.
Come on in.
(Phillips chuckles)
(Phillips chuckles)
Guys, Joshua Adam Phillips.
- Doc, you're first.
- (whispers): I'd be honored.
Hey, young man. Yes.
Amy, he's perfect.
- Thank you.
- (Robbins chuckles)
I am utterly envious.
You're a lucky guy.
I am.