Scarpetta

- - In tragic news this morning,

it is widely presumed that this marks the fourth killing in a--

I met her once.

- Lori Petersen. - Where?

At a med conference.

The syrupy sick smell. What if our killer has a syndrome,

an illness that creates the odor, so that's why he keeps washing,

to mask the smell.

You knew Matt Petersen had nothing to do with Gwen Hainey's death,

and you lied to me.

The Cammie Ramada case was ruled an accidental death.

- Well, that's a cover-up. - The night on Daingerfield,

Reddy said that he had his wife in the car,

but it looked like Maggie to me.

I'm ordering the exhumation of Cammie Ramada's body.

Reddy is summoning me to his office tomorrow morning, so I'm being fired.

- What the fuck does that mean? - I didn't mean anything.

- - I have to take this, okay?

Luce.

- Oh, hi. - I-I wasn't sure you were gonna pick up.

- You don't know, do you? - Know what?

Ask her.

What happened with the Petersen case that made you so afraid for it

- to come back into question? - What did Dorothy say?

No, what did Dorothy say?

I'll bet Marino knows, too.

No, what did Dorothy say to you?

Sweetheart, did you not try it on before?

This is my daughter, and she's getting married today,

and nothing-- and I mean nothing--

is going to tarnish this holy event.

- So, I need Rosa. - What's this I hear

- about sleeves? What's going on? - We're getting Rosa.

It's gonna be fine, sweetheart.

No. Everything's fine. Everything's fine. Right?

By the way, it's a wedding, so what would be a wedding

without a little chaos?

Your mother knows what she's talking about.

Wow, is that a little funny about how many times

- I've been married? - Just a little, yeah.

- Have a laugh. - Okay, well, I didn't...

- Oh. Hi, Rosa. - Hi.

So, we're having a little sleeve problem.

Yeah.

- It's gonna be fine. - Kelly, I said creamy white.

- Are you happy you got married? - Yes, of course.

I'm so happy.

I love him. I do.

You're just scared.

- Oh, God. Brace yourself. - Just to be clear,

all of my marriages were magical until the third year.

That's when shit gets real.

All the things that you found so charming

start to bite you in the ass.

You know, "I just, I love the way he's sort of

so expressive and shares his feelings."

And then, by the third year,

"Would he just shut the fuck up about his fucking feelings?"

- That's not my experience. - Well, it's mine,

- and everybody I know. - Come on. Let's just focus on Lucy.

Oh, I'm focused on Lucy.

- I want this waistline in. - Why don't you just

- bring it down a notch? - I-- Oh. Okay.

- All right? - Why don't you bring it up a notch?

I'm sorry.

Babe? Janet?

She's gotta be here somewhere.

- Oh. - Thank you, thank you. Janet?

Babe?

Janet?

Lucy?

Wow.

No, wait, we're not supposed to see each other. It's bad luck.

We're two women. We're not supposed to be getting married at all.

You better come in.

Okay, what happened?

- Well, my mother. My aunt. - Mm-hmm.

- My sleeves were too long. -

Ugh, God.

We've been together for three years, so are you gonna start, you know,

hating the way that I'm always talking about coding and data

and how I scream numbers in my sleep?

I don't know.

Are you gonna start to hate the way I always drool on the pillow?

Or how my five-second rule is actually more like 28 seconds?

These are terrible vows.

- Yeah, they're the worst. -

Oh, God.

How about the way you look at me?

With love, light, and longing.

Or the way you're always present.

Letting time move through you, instead of moving through time.

Hey.

I've got you.

I love you.

Oh, I love you.

All turning! Ah...!

What do they pay you to travel around, bloviate about psychos?

Uh... you don't want to know, Pete.

- No, I want to know. - That so?

Your wife wants you.

Okay. Well,

- uh, her wish is my command. -

Hell of a shindig.

You know, I can tell when someone's spent a-a pretty penny,

so best wishes, felicitations, and all that jazz.

You did Lucy real nice.

Thank you.

You know, weddings make even happy people feel lonely.

You ever been married, Peter?

Have I ever been married? No.

No, I like sleeping in the middle of my bed fine.

You're funny.

Yeah.

- Do you like martinis? - Yes.

I love you.

I am so glad we don't live anywhere near your family.

- Mm-hmm. - You mean my crazy sister?

- No. - Yes, that's what you mean.

- - I love you. I love you.

Do I tell you that enough?

Ooh, wow.

- Very smooth. - Well, thank you.

- Do I have consent? - Consent? For--

Looks like Pete's...

- almost having fun. - What?

- What do you think? - It's perfect.

Well, who knew this was gonna happen, huh?

- I did not see that happening. - Oh, my God.

- Oh, my God. Are you-- - Not a big deal.

Not a big deal. Eyes on me.

Is it only 8:45?

Mm.

Babe. We need to talk.

That's the worst way to start a conversation.

I want to talk about Blaise Fruge.

What about her?

You hate talking on the phone,

and you were on the phone to her for 118 minutes last night.

That's quite a party trick. Timing people's phone calls.

Well, we all know what that means.

No, we don't, because it doesn't mean anything.

Then why can't you look at me?

Because it doesn't mean anything.

I'm helping with a case, and I like...

I like it. It feels good to use that muscle again.

It feels good to be part of...

The real world?

Yeah, I guess.

Good. I can see that.

Okay, great, so is this discussion over?

No, because it isn't about the case.

Look, Luce, it's okay for you to enjoy talking to someone else.

And it's even okay if it's a really pretty girl.

Look, I can't do this with you, Janet.

- I... - I understand, but...

I just...

I think you have to consider that maybe your mother was right.

How can you say that to me?

We all love you, Lucy, and we want to see you thrive.

Oh, fuck thriving.

You... you... are supposed to be on my side.

Your mother wants you to be free to live your life,

- and so do I. - I will live my life however I want, okay?

That's exactly what I'm fucking saying.

Dorothy? Where are you?

Uh, I'm in here.

Okay.

So, I want to know,

I want to know what you said to my husband.

Hmm? Good morning. I... What are you talking about?

- I didn't say-- - I'm probably getting fired today.

So I don't need you stirring up shit in my marriage.

- Kay, come on. Kay. - What did you say to him?

We had a couple drinks. Okay? That was all.

And I have a headache. Do you have...?

- You must have aspirin. Ah, aspirin. - Don't do that.

- My head is throbbing. - It's one thing to force yourself

in the middle of Lucy and I, but to put yourself in the middle

of my marriage, now, that's too far.

Kay, that is rich coming from a person

who, without telling me,

has apparently been in the middle of mine the whole fucking time.