Cross

Previously on Cross...

All right, Emir Goodspeed

was murdered by a serial killer.

That killer kept a scrapbook of their work.

Each of those victims was transformed

to resemble a serial killer.

Now our killer needs one more victim.

Aileen Wuornos.

What are we calling this freak?

- The Fanboy. - Well, this girl's missing.

You make her a blonde, that's Aileen's sister.

- What do you want? - 2.2 million.

I want Aileen and the book.

I know this ain't about you. Who you working for, Bobby?

Do you remember the night that you asked me to go get

a box full of photos and videos?

You said to me, "Burn it."

I didn't burn it.

Ed Ramsey is the Fanboy?

- Where you going? - His birthday party.

You know what I really love about this project?

Each transformation has its own unique challenge.

Now, with you, it's the teeth.

Aileen was very self-conscious about her teeth.

In fact, every photo you can find of her in her youth,

she's got her lips clamped tight.

Now, in 1986,

she went to an orthodontist's office and put down a deposit for braces.

$600. That was money that she had stolen

from a man that she'd murdered just three weeks earlier.

So, the doctors do their exam and they make a mold of her teeth,

which I picked up online

for just $169.50.

What a steal.

You see the way that the front teeth are all crowded in?

That's what Aileen wanted to fix.

Only, the police arrested her just two days

before the braces were supposed to go in.

Poor thing died with crooked teeth.

So, we're gonna need to adjust yours.

I'm gonna need you to open your mouth

so I can make a mold of your teeth to ensure a perfect fit.

It's not gonna hurt as much as the hammer.

You want to play a game?

Keep going.

She's got some fight in her.

Mm-hmm. Yep.

Open. Open your mouth.

I'm tired of this game. Open your mouth!

That's it, now.

One one-thousand, two one-thousand,

three one-thousand, four one-thousand,

five one-thousand,

six one-thousand,

seven one-thousand,

and...

ten.

The only thing you get to decide is how fucking hard to make this.

But it is going to happen, Shannon,

exactly the way that it was meant to.

It's perfect.

All right.

Who's ready to party?

Caitlin, Horace. How great to see you.

Happy birthday, Ed. As always, we appreciate the invitation.

Mm, of course.

Well, if a certain young House representative

hadn't, uh, brought me on board her reelection campaign,

then none of us would be where we are today, would we?

Excuse me, Manhattan for the gentleman

and an iced coffee with Baileys for the young lady.

Ooh, hell of a memory.

The key to being a good host is knowing everything about your guests.

Excuse me. April, you look fantastic.

I come to this birthday party every year,

but somehow, you don't get any older.

Please. Spoken like a true politician.

Maybe mayor?

- Mm. It's a notion. - It's a good one.

Hey. Now it's a party. There she is.

- Ed, happy birthday. - Thank you so much. I'm glad you're here.

Right this way. You see, this is Lawrence Buckley.

I have been prepping him all week on the Somewhere Foundation.

- You ready for that big pitch? - Locked and loaded.

And I brought backup.

- Oh. - You remember Alex?

How could I forget? Metro PD's golden boy.

I'm so honored you could make the time.

Honor's all mine. Happy birthday.

Thank you. Please.

Enjoy.

- Ed Ramsey, huh? - Ed Ramsey.

You don't seem surprised.

Rich, powerful fuck killing people without remorse?

- Yeah? - Checks out to me.

- You tell anyone else? - Not yet.

Hey, you can't keep this secret for long, Sugar.

No, but it'll give me time to get in his head, find his weaknesses.

We're gonna need all there is to know about Ramsey, including how he grew up.

What about his family?

Mom, dad, sister: deceased.

I did find a guy from Ramsey's hometown that says he has a story,

but he only wants to tell it in person.

You're just gonna hop a jet to Lowell, Indiana?

Not me.

- Oh, hell no. - What?

It's, like, a day or two, tops.

Look, just stick a shovel in the dirt, you know, see what you can dig up.

Come on.

All right. So why don't you go?

Because...

I'm going to Ramsey's birthday bash.

VIPs only.

I'm Elle's plus-one.

Your girl's taking you to a serial killer's birthday party?

It's lucky timing.

Look, if we haul Ramsey in before questioning,

he's gonna lawyer up, we ain't gonna get shit.

This way, I get inside his house, get inside his head

before he knows we're on to him?

It's like a three-hour interrogation, no lawyers present.

Come on, man.

Come on, baby.

So you get champagne and caviar.

And I go to Nowhere, Indiana?

Yep.

Continue straight for 73 miles.

You got to be shitting me.

Just you?

Uh, I'm waiting for someone.

First time, huh?

- Huh? - Seeing a Black man.

Detective Sampson?

Oh, you must be Dex.

Thanks.

So, how do you know Ed?

We grew up next door to each other.

Same age, same street.

Our mothers wanted us to be best friends, but, uh...

But?

I could tell there was something wrong with him.

Even when we were kids.

How about that one? Oh, my goodness.

Oh... Ed, check it out.

Felicia's on the web searching "female serial killers of yore."

- Exciting. - Need to make sure

I don't look like them.

You read the article, right?

He's targeting people who resemble legendary serial killers.

Well, you don't look like any serial killer I've ever seen, Felicia.

I could. You don't know.

Alex,

I did not know that you and Ed were friends.

Oh, n-no, I'm Elle's plus-one.

He's a big supporter of the Somewhere Foundation.

What about you? Rumors must be true, huh?

About you running?

Well, this is not one of those "stay in one place for 20 years" cities.

You're either going up or down.

I like up better.

Hey.

Now, there's the two we should be asking.

Come on. All right, strictly cone of silence.

Whatever you say never leaves this room.

What's going on with the serial killer?

I don't play that game, Horace.

Can we just ask as concerned citizens?

You can ask.

But you're not going to answer.

All right, what about a nod, yea or nay?

Isn't it time for dinner?

Now, I say

when it's time to eat, and April, come on.

People are scared.

All we want is some information. You're the chief of police.

Alex is the lead investigator on the case. You got to give us something.

Like I said, you can ask.

- How many victims? - Multiple.

More than five?

- Do you have any suspects? - Not yet.

But...

we do have a profile of the killer.

Uh, d-do we want to hear this,

- or is it just gonna make it scarier? - No, no.

We want to hear every fucking detail, thank you very much.

Keep in mind, this is just theory and conjecture...

But you've been doing this a long time.

And you're the best.

Let's hear it.

White male. Forties.

Suave, confident.

More Bundy than Dahmer.

He knows how to use his looks and his charisma.