Criminal Minds (2005–…): Season 2, Episode 18 - Jones - full transcript

Previously, on Criminal Minds.

What are you doing?

Please. I don't want it. I don't want it.

It helps.

What is the matter with you?

What... What do you mean
what's the matter with me?

I've... I've never seen you act like this.

Oh, really. Oh, in the months
that you've known me,

you've never seen me act this way?

Hey, no offense, Emily,

but you don't really know
what you're talking about, do you?



Earlier this morning,
Katrina crashed into the Gulf Coast

New Orleans, Louisiana
AUGUST 29, 2005

with sustained winds
of 125 miles per hour.

As many homes are being destroyed,
residents are trying to evacuate.

Are you listening to me, Pop?

Grab your wallet and get the hell
out of there. The buses are filling up.

This case is eating at me, Billy.

Dad, forget the damn case.

What the hell am I missing here?

People are drowning in their homes.
The levees ain't gonna hold.

The whole parish
is going under water.

- I got another letter, Billy.
- Screw the letter, Pop!

Forget the serial killer.
They're opening up the Superdome.

I want you to meet me there.



I'll be damned.

Come on. Please, I'm begging you,
Pop. Pop? Pop.

We've got a serial killer
in New Orleans

who killed at least three
men pre-Katrina.

Until now, the New Orleans
Police Department believed

that the serial killer died in the storm.

And what's happened
to tell them otherwise?

A fourth body was found
in the French Quarter last night.

Same MO, another male,
throat slashed, eviscerated.

A year and a half.
That's a long cooling off period.

Are we sure this is the same UnSub?

He claims to be.
He sent a letter to William Lamontagne,

the head detective on the case.

Lamontagne have any leads?

He died in Katrina. His son
is actually heading the case now.

That can't be easy.

Well, we need to pore over
the evidence

from the first three murders

- and determine the pattern.
- Katrina washed everything away.

The three victims we know of, their
autopsy reports, witness statements,

DNA test results.

So, basically all we have to go off
is the latest victim?

Until he kills again.

Robert Kennedy once said,

"Tragedy is a tool
for the living to gain wisdom,

"not a guide by which to live."

Hey, Reid, what's going on up there?

Just thinking of this old friend of mine
from Las Vegas, Ethan.

Pretty sure he lives in
New Orleans now.

Really? You going to give him a call?

We grew up competing against
each other in absolutely everything.

Spelling bees, science fairs.

We also both had our hearts set
on joining the Bureau but

first day at Quantico he backed out.

He probably just couldn't take the heat.

It's not really for us to judge, is it?

Right. My bad.

These are copies of the newspaper
articles on the murders dating back to

early August, 2005.
It's all we have to go on.

He killed three times.
He stopped for 18 months

and then he started killing again.

Should have Garcia run a list of
any offenders in the area.

Anyone who spent the last
year and a half doing time.

Or anyone that relocated after
Katrina and recently moved back.

What is the victimology in
killing a mechanic,

a real estate broker and a cook

with ages ranging from 22 to 45?

And this latest is
a 33-year-old taxi driver.

They just don't seem to have
very much in common.

Besides being male walking
the French Quarter late at night.

Which is notorious for muggings
off the main drag.

Yeah, but this guy isn't
in a rush to flee the scene.

A slaughter like this takes time.

Andrei Chikatilo fantasized that
the men he killed were his captives.

And that torturing and mutilating them
somehow made him a hero.

This city's barely back to life.

Something like this could
cripple its psyche.

So, where do we start?

Well, with no case file, there's only
one place we can start. Square one.

You must be BAU. Bill Lamontagne.

Hi, Jennifer Jareau,
we spoke on the phone.

Okay, then. I pictured you different.

These are Agents Gideon and Morgan.

This is Detective
William Lamontagne Jr.

Appreciate you guys being here.

My daddy was too stubborn
to ever ask for any help.

Sorry for your loss.

I understand you received a letter.

Yeah. Before they were lost in Katrina,
my daddy received two others.

This one came addressed
to him yesterday.

And they passed it on to me.

Are you sure it's from the same killer?

It's a detailed account
of what he did to the body.

Four layers of fatty tissue,
sliced through like butter.

I've only seen that three other times.

You worked this case initially?

Yeah, you don't forget victims like this.
It's like they were dissected.

I can still smell the alcohol on him.

This is New Orleans. Dead or alive,
it's a smell you get used to.

The victim has no defense wounds,

meaning this is most
likely a blitz attack.

No hesitation marks or rapid thrusts.

Cuts are methodical,
almost procedural.

My guess, whoever gutted
this guy was taught to.

So you think he might have
some medical training?

How else could he carve around
every organ and leave each one intact?

Have any of his relatives come
to claim the body?

Anyone we could speak with?

No, I'll end up boxing up
the poor bastard's ashes.

Left to collect dust in storage.

All the bodies I've been through
in the last year and a half,

it's a wonder I still have room.

It'd be pretty easy to hide out
in one of these alcoves,

wait for the victim without
ever being seen.

Yeah, all four murders occurred
within a 10-block radius

here inside the French Quarter.

On any given night, there'd have
to be thousands of people

walking through here from the bars.

Tens of thousands.

When I first started as a cop,
I worked the Quarter.

It's like being in the riot
squad every night.

Every Sunday, I'd get off
work around sunrise,

be ready to pass out, and my
daddy'd be waiting for me at my house

to make me drive him uptown to
Franky and Johnny's for po-boys.

He called it, "Communing
with New Orleans."

Your father tell you anything else
about this case that we should know?

He tried to, but you guys
should see that for yourself.

This wall's still standing where
Daddy carved the message

right before he died.

There's no doubt he's still
working from the grave.

"Jones." That name mean
anything to you?

No, I ran it through the database
against every offender in New Orleans.

And you can imagine
how many hits I got

but nothing came up
in connection with this case.

But in your dad's final moments, it was

the most important thing
he wanted to say.

I learned how to play
the drums in this house,

grew up with two dogs in this house.

All it's going to be now is the word
"Jones" carved into that wall.

Detective, if he had written
the UnSub's name

I think you would have
found him by now.

"Jones" is the one piece of the puzzle
that your daddy did know.

He trusted you to figure out the rest.

Yeah. I know it.

But I've pored over it a thousand times
and I still can't put it together.

I can't get it out of my head.

It eats at me every day.

You okay?

Yeah.
I just don't want to disappoint him.

- Is that the letter from the UnSub?
- Yeah.

"I'm back with a vengeance.
I wanted you to know.

"The last guy made it easy,

"being out so late,
stumbling home drunk.

"I enjoyed slicing around his organs.
Thought about sending you one.

"He was asking to be ripped,
don't you think, Boss? Yours truly."

Hey.

Hey.

To say that the victims were asking
to be killed denies all culpability.

Most sexual sadists rationalize
their own behavior

by blaming the victims like that.

But there was no evidence
of sexual assault in the autopsy.

He could be a homosexual male

stabbing because he needs
violence for arousal.

Every kill he's acting out
a fantasy of revenge.

What if he's trying to act out
something else?

- Like what?
- With the exception of the victims

being men, it's the same MO.

What are you talking about?

All four victims were found
with their throats slashed,

eviscerated, the murders perpetrated
in semi-public places after dark,

investigators taunted with
letters addressed as "Boss."

The only difference is that case was
a hundred years ago

and the murders took place in London.

Jack the Ripper.

And the UnSub wants us to think that

he's the modern day version
loose in New Orleans?

Please. Don't.

So, the three of you were
out together last night?

Mark had just paid his tab at one bar

and he was on his way
to meet us at another.

You guys get in any trouble?

A drunken brawl?
Anybody get out of hand?

We were just out to have
fun, you know?

Minded our own business.

Could Mark have met a girl?
Maybe upset her boyfriend?

No, sir.

He struck out like we all did.

- Thanks, guys.
- Okay.

I can hardly keep up with this guy.

Well, if he's mimicking Jack the Ripper
that might be precisely the point.

He terrorized London for months
without ever getting caught.

I'd appreciate it if you gather your men.

We'd like to give you a profile
of who you're up against.

The offender we're looking
for is friendly,

agile, somewhere between 30 and 35.

He'll lure with charm and kill with rage.

We believe he's murdering
men to reclaim his power.

This UnSub suffers
from low self-esteem,

but he probably covers it well.

He dresses impeccably
to feed the façade.

Jack the Ripper himself was
an impetuous lust murderer,

whereas this offender
is organized, calculating.

He might even stalk his victims
for days before the actual kill.

We believe this killer identifies with
Jack the Ripper because

he's lost his own identity.

Maybe through years of child abuse
or some catastrophic event.

Because he overcompensates
to hide his insecurities,

we believe he may hold a position
of authority at work.

And since we think
he's had medical training,

consider EMTs, doctors, veterinarians.

Please be careful. To this UnSub,
the French Quarter's a hunting ground.

He's certainly already
proven he knows the terrain.

Jeez! Reid, you scared me.

I've always been one step
ahead of you, man.

Yeah, whatever helps
you sleep at night.

I'm glad you called.
It's good to see you.

You, too.

Let's get a drink.

Prentiss.

What was the thing Jack the Ripper
took from one of his victims?

Besides, well you know, her life?

Oh...

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

I don't know.

A kidney.
How horrifyingly fantastic is that?

Mmm-hmm.

And are you going anywhere with this?

Just that I found an unsolved murder

that happened four months ago
in Galveston, Texas,

with the same MO.
The victim missing that very organ.

- I amaze myself.
- Yeah, me too. Great work.

- What's that?
- Garcia found a similar case

in Galveston, Texas.

A lot of Katrina refugees
relocated there.

It could be the same guy. He removed
the kidney just like Jack the Ripper.

Call Reid and Morgan. I want the three
on a plane to Texas tonight.

Okay.

So, are you going to ask the question?

- What question?
- Come on, man, it's me here.

We haven't talked to each other
in years. I know it's why you called me.

Ask the question.

Why did you quit after only one
day of FBI training?

Well,

I'm sure you've considered
the evidence,

analyzed the signs.

What's your theory?

You were battling your own demons.

You didn't have room to
analyze someone else's.

Not bad. Not bad.

Those days I did prefer
Jack Daniel's to Jeff Dahmer.

But they both weigh on
your soul eventually.

Sorry.

The Bat-phone.

Let me ask you this, Ethan.
Do you ever regret it?

You know, I may not be
changing the world, but

my music makes me happy.

It doesn't take a profiler
to see that you're not.

It's not easy. It's not...

I don't even believe some
of the things that I've seen.

John Coltrane. He was a genius, too.

Died of cancer,

but most people think it was the booze
and the heroin that did him in.

What are you trying to say?

You look like hell.

- I'm fine.
- Come on, man.

I'm a jazz musician in New Orleans.

I know what it looks like
when someone's not well.

This may be the one time I can tell you
something that you don't already know.

It might help you forget,
but it won't make it go away.

And if I can tell...

You're surrounded by some
of the best minds in the world.

If you think they don't notice...

Well, for a genius

that's just dumb.

- Hey.
- Hey.

Where's Reid?

- I was hoping he was with you.
- I thought you said you called him.

I did, four times. Nothing.

The victim's fiancée is expecting us.
What are we supposed to do?

We got one option. Wheels up.

Thank you. It's not right.

The French Quarter is one of the only
parts of the city that dodged Katrina

and now there's a serial killer loose.

It's a small area.
We're narrowing down the profile.

We'll find him.

You always drink while
you're still on the clock?

This is New Orleans, honey.
It's a cultural thing.

Where are you from?

Pennsylvania.

I take it the folks are a little rigid
about the rules up that way.

If it makes you feel better,

we'll play it Pennsylvania-style tonight.

I just hate that this guy
has a leg up on us, you know?

I promise, as soon as my team knows
anything, we'll hear. Okay?

Why haven't you married?

That involves this case, how exactly?

It doesn't. I'm just flirting.

It's unprofessional.
You don't have to answer that.

Excuse me, compliments
of the woman in the blue top.

Wow, that was bold.

Well, she might've thought
we were just working.

We are.

What, are you jealous?

No. I'm just... I'm surprised, that's all.

You're a lousy liar, too.

You haven't had much practice, huh?

It's a culture thing, you see.

There you go.

Everybody kept saying, "Crime's going
to skyrocket after the relocation."

You just never think
it's going to happen to you.

The report said that your fiancé was

bar hopping for his bachelor party
on the night he was killed.

We were supposed to be
married in October.

He was just out celebrating
that with friends.

Was there anyone at Leonard's
bachelor party you didn't know?

We all grew up together.
They're like family to me.

Whether they met somebody out,
now that's a different story.

They're a rowdy bunch.
They'd party with anybody.

Each of the last two victims
was traveling in a group.

Both were drinking.
Both in public arenas. Bar hopping.

So, how could their friends
not see anything?

It's like when the lion preys
upon antelope.

You lost me.

Well, that's because you,
Emily Prentiss,

have never been one of the antelope.

Oh, scratch that. You've totally lost me.

Okay, check this out.

The antelope travel in packs.

So the lion just sits and waits.

Waits for just one of the antelope
to break away from its herd,

so when he's alone, vulnerable,
and completely unprotected,

that's when the lioness strikes.
That's when she makes her move.

Wait a minute. Her move?

Prentiss, there's only one thing that's
going to make a straight man

leave his friends on guy's night out.

And it'll make him leave every time.

One of the victims was out
for his bachelor party,

another one out with just the guys.

What's the only temptation

that's going to lure
these men away from each other?

A woman.

JJ.

Okay. Yeah, he's right here with me.

Thanks.

What's going on?

The UnSub we're looking
for is a woman.

- Hey.
- So I alerted the department

and updated the BOLO.

Good.
We need to set up a press conference.

We're not making
a media spectacle out of this.

People need to know that this
killer is a woman.

What?

Listen, tourists are just starting
to filter back here.

That's not the issue.

I can't create mass hysteria
in a city trying to rebuild.

Besides, we'll be playing right
into her hands.

So be it.

Look, I'm trying not to go
above your head here.

I got that.

Then set up the press conference.

Hey, you guys are back
from Galveston?

First light this morning.
Where were you?

I was out with a friend.
I already told you.

I called you four times.

I didn't have any cell phone reception
so I didn't get your message until late.

Right.

What's going on?

Our UnSub's a woman.

They just found another body
in the Quarter.

Throat's been cut.
He's been disemboweled, too.

Reeks of booze.
It's more than a pattern.

Only this time she cut off the ear lobe.

She's sticking to the
Ripper's paradigm.

What do you mean?

In one letter of correspondence,
Jack the Ripper promised

to cut the earlobe off of his next victim.

And he did.
It was the one day that he killed twice.

So, she's going to kill again
by the end of the day.

Okay, what do we know about
female serial killers?

Basically, you have two types.

The Sante Kimes model.
Cold, calculated,

preys on men for money,
takes their time building relationships.

It's more likely we're dealing with
the Aileen Wournos archetype.

Motivated by paranoia and fear,
luring men with sex.

Well, this UnSub's organized.
She follows a routine.

She meets men in a bar,
flirts with them over drinks,

then suggests that they consummate
the evening in an alley.

We need to be in those streets.

Office just brought me this.

"Dear Boss, by now I have rid
the world of one more.

"So many men, so little time.

"I hope you don't mind the mess.

"They make it so easy, I just can't help
myself. Yours truly."

So, we're looking for a woman
who will approach men,

comfortable being the aggressor, huh?

And I'm guessing
she'd have to be quite attractive

in order to lure them away.

Most of the women are out in groups,

so keep your eyes open for
someone on their own.

"So many men, so little time."

As if she's on a quest
to wipe out the race.

Or the father who molested her?

Some people think Jack The Ripper
mutilated women after his mother

sexually abused him for years.

Yet for someone so enraged

this UnSub sounds oddly apologetic

for leaving a bloody crime scene. Why?

That might be what Lamontagne
figured out right before he died.

You got to admit, these guys
are making it pretty easy.

I wouldn't follow a stranger into an
alley no matter how wasted I was.

Yeah, but you're not a man.

Testosterone will follow
a woman to Thailand.

Barefoot. It's just a fact.

Did you give that newest letter to Reid?

He knows that Ripper case inside out.
He may see something we're missing.

- I don't think...
- What is it?

Nothing.

Come on, you think I'm not aware
something's going on with him?

You going to tell me why you missed
that flight to Galveston?

I already told you.
There was no cell reception.

Right.

What?

Reid, anytime you want to come up
with a better answer,

I'm standing right here.

- Dark curls. Three o'clock.
- I got it.

- Hello?
- She's eyeing those guys

outside that bar.

Hold on. Let me go.

Let's go.

Here she comes.

Oh. Oh, I'm sorry.
Man, I hate it when that happens.

You... You're all right?
What can I do to say I'm sorry?

How about a drink?

How about a drink? That's good.
That's a good idea. Let's go over here.

Yeah, that's totally fine. Yeah.
Yeah, I'll give you a call. Okay.

Danny, you goofball, you dropped
your wallet back there.

Thanks, next drink is on me.

So, where are your friends tonight?

I didn't bring any.

They get in the way.

Now see, I like that.

'Cause, most girls,
y'all don't go nowhere alone.

I'm not most girls.

Hey, we got nothing.

Well, the day's almost over.
So, if you're right

we just ran out of time.

Your hair's wet.

Oh, my God.

She's mocking us.

And she's true to her word.

Do you have any tweezers? Thank you.

- What is that?
- I have no idea.

It's a note from the UnSub
addressed to your father.

Can I see it?

"Dear Boss, he wanted it. With that
sharp tongue and vulgar hand.

"Thought you'd like to know another
will soon get what he deserves.

"Yours truly."

That's weird. Typically, offenders
write letters to be heard.

Jack the Ripper bragged about
not being caught

yet this UnSub isn't using
correspondence to flaunt her latest kill.

Only to explain why she did it.

It's possible that she considers
herself a vigilante.

That the men she's killing
deserve to die.

Well, maybe she's
contacting your father

not because he was the lead
detective on the case, but

she believes he'd understand.

What, you think he knew
her somehow?

Can you think of a woman in your dad's
life he helped through a tough time?

Might be another police officer,

I don't know, a prostitute
he helped get off the street?

No.
He hasn't dealt with prostitutes since...

Since he worked sex crimes.

The UnSub wrote,
"He was asking to be ripped,

"I just couldn't help myself,
and he wanted it."

What if she's mirroring
the man who raped her?

Where are the files stored from your
Sex Crimes Division?

They're housed in the same place
as Homicide. Most of it washed away.

Did your dad have a partner?

Yeah, J.R. Smith.
"Smitty" they call him.

He might remember something.

- Yeah, but they had a falling-out.
- What about?

I don't know. They stopped talking
when he left Sex Crimes.

That was nine years ago.

The guy didn't even come
to my daddy's funeral, so...

You have a problem calling him?

Not if it means breaking this case.

Honey, may I borrow your hand
for a minute?

- I'll be damned.
- What is it?

The stamp on the victim's hand.

It's admittance into the Mon Cherie.
It's a bar in the French Quarter.

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.

Nine years ago it was called Jones.

Bingo. Get Garcia on the horn.

- Oh, Captain! My Captain!
- I need you.

Anything. Talk to me.

Is there any newspaper reports about
a rape at a bar called Jones?

- Zilch.
- You sure?

It would have been about
nine years ago.

Nada.

Okay, cross-reference William
Lamontagne with Jones Bar.

Bull's eye. Police blotter, "Answered
a disturbance at Jones Bar in the

"French Quarter, February 19th, 1998."

Looks like it was during Mardi Gras.

You are the best ever.

And you're the most perceptive.

Smitty, how are you?

I hope you got a good reason
drudging this crap up.

Well, I was hoping

you might remember being called
here with my daddy nine years ago.

- Is that a joke?
- No.

My name's Jason Gideon.
We're from the FBI.

We're investigating the series
of murders in the French Quarter.

What's that got to do with me?

We need you to tell us
what happened the night you

and Detective Lamontagne
answered the call in this bar.

Am I missing something?

You really don't know, do you?

After that night, your daddy tried
to bring me up on sanctions.

- Why?
- It was Mardi Gras.

Some girl claimed she was
raped in this bar.

I wasn't buying it.

What did she say happened to her?

Brass backed me up.

They ended up transferring
your daddy out to shut him up.

What happened here?

He almost cost me my career.

Do you mind telling us
what happened?

My best recollection, she said she was
sitting at the bar with two friends.

One of the boys asked her
if she wanted to play some pool.

Witnesses claim she was
up for anything.

She followed him up here?

His friend not far behind.

She knew he was there.

That girl was a tease.

She was looking for a good time.

Can't blame a couple guys
for going along with that.

Did she yell out for help?

Said she did. But not a single
person claimed that they heard her.

That's what you registered
as a "disturbance"?

It was Mardi Gras. Listen to me.

That girl had enough beads hanging
from her neck to jewel a small city.

Anyone exposes themselves
that much in one day

is not a credible witness in my book.

- But she wanted to press charges.
- I told her it was a waste of time.

I knew one of the accused.
He was a good kid.

He didn't need the stink
of that accusation.

So you protected a rapist?

Well, that right there was a bone of
contention between his daddy and I.

As far as I was concerned, no
such rape ever took place.

Now, you want to tell me why
you went and dragged

this dirt back through my life?

You know the serial killer who's
cutting up men in the French Quarter?

She was your victim.

We're trying to find her name.

- You don't even remember her name?
- It was nine years ago.

What about the name
of the "good kid" that raped her?

Smitty,

you tell me right now
or I'll file a new sanction against you

and I guarantee you this time it'll stick.

Mr. Tibideaux, we need you to answer

a few questions about a disturbance
you were involved with in 1998.

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

At a bar called Jones.

It was Mardi Gras.

You know, then I must've been
drinking or something.

'Cause I don't remember a thing.

We just need to know the name
of your accuser.

Look, I told you.
I don't know what you're talking about.

The statute of limitations is up.
We just need a name.

Someone accuses me of rape

I'm going to remember her name.

Well, what can I tell you, cher?

I guess she didn't make that
good of an impression.

Unlike yourself right now.

You know, I'm guessing if someone did
do something to that girl that night

then she was probably asking for it.

Maybe even liked it.

The guy's not giving up anything.

Reid, after the double murder,
what was Ripper's next move?

He mutilated and dismembered
Mary Kelly in her one room flat

until she was unrecognizable.

It was believed to be his most
vicious kill of all.

Because he had privacy.

And time to torture his victim
before killing her.

Maybe we're not too late.

She murdered these men.

And I'm guessing

it's only a matter of time
before she works her way back

to the one she really wants to kill.

She make an impression now?

- Work me.
- We have a name.

Sarah Danlin. I need an address.

1141 Sherman Avenue.

It looks like she was a med student
at Tulane but she dropped out.

Let me guess. February, 1998.

- Yeah.
- Thanks.

We got her.

- I'm John, by the way.
- John,

take off your clothes.

Yes, ma'am.

Sarah Danlin? FBI, open the door.

The things I'm gonna do to you.

Me first.

FBI.

- Clear.
- Clear.

She's not here.

Guys, there are some Ripperologists
who speculate that Mary Kelly

was actually killed in a flat that
Jack the Ripper rented for the night.

I'm going to have Garcia check
Sarah Danlin's credit card accounts.

It's a long shot, but maybe we can
trace a room back to her charge cards.

What the hell was that?

Shh.

You're crazy.

You never did explain those "things"
you could do to me.

I know.

Souvenirs.

These are from bars in the French
Quarter. This one's from Mon Cherie.

She's trolling for victims
in the place where it all began.

She can't move on.

The rape isn't the whole story.
I bet there's a history of sexual abuse

that contributes to her rage as well.

It's almost like by taking on
the Ripper persona

she was trying to kill something
within herself.

Yeah, mama, what do you got?

Sarah Danlin's VISA was charged
an hour ago at the Royal Ruby Inn.

Oh, baby girl, you never disappoint.
Thank you.

- Royal Ruby Inn.
- That's two blocks from here.

Let's go.

Please. Please. Please.
I've got children. Please.

Stop your bitching. You asked for it.

FBI.

- Drop the knife.
- Drop the weapon.

He wanted it and he got it.

- Put it down now.
- We need an EMT tech right away.

What are you waiting for?

Ma'am, we don't want to shoot you.

Be such a shame to waste this.

Do you want it, too?

What I want is for you
to put that knife down.

Come on. Don't fight it.

Sarah, we do not want to hurt you.

Men.

Sarah, my name's
William Lamontagne, Jr.

You knew my daddy.

Hey, there.

You trusted him. So trust me.

Where is he?

The storm took him.

Come on. It's over.

It's over.

Hey.

Hey there.

The medic says that her victim's
going to be okay.

I heard what you did in there.

Your dad would be really proud.

It's weird.

I spent all this time focused
on closing this case for him

and now it's over.

Yeah.

I thought I'd feel happy
but I just feel lost.

Because you've got to move on.

Well, now you're leaving?

How will I survive a woman like you
going so far away?

Well, despite what you may have heard,

cell phones can be very good
for your health.

See ya.

How'd you find me?

You're not all that hard to profile.

Your friend is good.

I missed that plane on purpose.

I know.

- I'm struggling.
- Well,

anybody who's been through what
you've been through recently would.

This is all I was groomed for.
I never even...

I never even considered
another option.

Now you're questioning whether or not
you're strong enough to be here?

Yeah.

I have been playing at this job

in one way or another
for almost 30 years.

And I've felt lost.

I've felt great.

I have felt scared,

sick,

insane.

I don't know.

I guess the day this job stops
gnawing at your soul,

and your hands,

your hands stop feeling cold.

Maybe that's the time to leave.

I guess I just needed to try to figure
out if I could step away from this job.

And?

I'll never miss another plane again.