Instinct

My name is Dylan Reinhart. Not too long ago,

I was an operative in the CIA known as Agent Reinhart.

When I left the Agency and started teaching,

I became Professor Reinhart.

I wrote a book about abnormal behavior

and criminals, which was so successful

a serial killer used it as clues for his murders.

That's when the New York Police Department

reached out to me to help catch him.

Which I did, so they hired me,

and I became Consultant Reinhart.

So now I'm working with this woman,

Detective Lizzie Needham

of the homicide division, catching killers.

Looks like I need a new name.

Don't they call you Professor Psychopath?

Hello?

Celia?

Is anybody here?

Oh, my God. Celia!

I think it's great you want to start

making healthy, organic dinners.

I think it's great you're willing to make them with me.

And, you know, since they give you all the ingredients,

it's-it's...

- you know, it's super easy, too. - Mmm.

- (PHONE RINGING) Call from Joan Ross.

Let it go to voice mail.

Why? It's Joan.

Yes, but it's 9:00.

She should be relaxing and having fun.

Like us.

Yeah.

Besides, she'll want to press me on my book,

and I'm just not in the mood for a lecture

when I tell her I'm only on... page three.

Mm-hmm.

I'm thinking about giving back my advance.

Is this about your father?

No.

Maybe.

Yes.

He's wrong, okay?

You have more than one book in you.

Get him out of your head.

You know what would help? Food.

How much longer until dinner is ready?

You mean the meal that's supposed

to take 15 minutes to make?

- At least another hour. - (LAUGHS)

Call from Elizabeth Needham.

Oh.

Hey, Lizzie. What are you doing still at work?

We've been assigned a new case... an attempted murder.

Oh. Um, text me the address.

I'm on my way.

We're cooking dinner, but between us, it's probably

a good time to leave.

Seriously, how much more chopping?

Everything okay over there?

Well, I hope so, because I'm leaving.

I'll pick up dinner on the way.

Uh...

Oh, don't worry about food.

I got you covered.

You sure?

Yep, you're good.

See you soon.

Great.

- (SIREN WHOOPING) - This is you having me covered?

You brought me stale, hard doughnuts.

Some people would call them scones,

and they'd be happy.

Uh, and some people would be wrong and hungry.

You owe me dinner.

And possibly dental work.

- Hey. - Here you go.

Thanks.

Yeah, I just arrived. We were supposed to have dinner.

Ms. Baxter?

I'm Detective Needham.

This is my partner, Dr. Reinhart.

Hello.

We'd like to ask you a couple

of questions if you're up to it.

Ask away. The sooner I give my statement,

the sooner you can find this freak and put him in jail.

Any idea who attacked you?

A monster.

I was, uh...

I was at my computer.

I got stuck in the last chapter,

which is where I've been for way too long.

I needed a break, so I went to the kitchen

to get something to drink.

And that's when I saw him.

- (MUG SHATTERS) - He was, um...

He was wearing a strange animal mask

and a... what seemed to be a...

an expensive suit.

It was well tailored.

He, um... he was holding a knife.

A hunting knife.

But you don't know who he was

- or why he attacked you? - No.

Any enemies?

Other than late-night carbs

and most forms of exercise, no.

Do you have a security system?

Yeah, I-I have a smart home.

My alarm should have been working.

I tried to get away from him.

- (SOBS) - So, other than the suit,

the mask and the knife, what else can you

tell us about your assailant?

He was, uh, five-ten.

Fit.

About 175 pounds.

If it weren't for Geoff, I-I would be dead.

- He's your publisher? - No.

He's the publisher who wants my next book,

Birdie in Bermuda.

It was his arrival that scared off my attacker.

Why do you look so familiar?

What... what is your name again?

Dylan Reinhart.

You wrote Freaks.

You're that abnormal psych professor

who now consults for the NYPD.

Uh, yeah. That's me.

I loved your book.

And you write the Birdie Baines Mysteries.

- You read them? - Well, I will now.

What else have you written

besides Freaks?

Uh... just that.

Well, I thought you had another book coming out.

So did I.

Oh, no. Writer's block?

- Not exactly. Found a partial shoe print

- outside the garden. Great.

A plastic mold

- is being taken right now. - Great.

We also found this.

Oh, my God. That's the knife.

Oh, one more question.

You keep referring to your attacker as a man.

How are you so sure it was a he?

- Because he spoke to me. - What did he say?

He said, "Bye-bye, Birdie."

You're gonna be doing a couple laps around the block

- with this stuff, okay? Grade A. - (CHUCKLING): Oh.

- You know, lot of caffeine. - Oh. Oh, cool.

- Yeah. Yeah. - Thank you, Arthur.

- Oh, uh, actually, my name's Pete. - Pete?

- Yeah. - Oh. It should be Arthur.

- "Arthur." I look like an Arthur to you? - Well, I... Yeah.

Really?

Joan?

Oh. See ya.

I gotta talk to you.

So, Celia Baxter called me.

Oh. Well, I did sing your praises.

Well, she wants me to edit her next book.

We're meeting for lunch on Friday.

- That's nice. - It's not nice at all.

It's a miracle, considering my history with her.

You know, I passed on her first book.

Look, I cannot rep you, okay?

I hate the beginning,

I hate the middle, and I hate the end.

And I-I have to tell you, this title, I hate it, too.

It's boring, Celia.

Oh, God. I know how harsh you can be.

No, I wasn't harsh. I was honest.

You know, and who knew she was going to go on

to become an airport best seller?

Well, not you.

Yeah, clearly not. But I want to say thank you.

Because you're here, and you're saving lives,

and you get me new clients.

You're welcome. I actually thought

you were trying to avoid me,

you know, not talking about the new book

and everything, but...

What is this?

This tastes like somebody ran it through a baby diaper.

What the hell? Arthur!

Oh, hell.

Honey, take this from me. (GROANS)

- Call me later. - Okay.

- That's horrifying. - Uh-huh.

Who's a fast reader?

- Not me. - Nope. I'm busy.

- I can't read. - Zack.

See if you can find a reason why anyone

would want to hurt Birdie or her creator, Celia.

It may be someone delusional.

Someone who can't differentiate

between fiction and reality.