Episode #1.3

People might recognize my face.

They may even know my name.

But they'll never know who I am.

She can't even bother to call?

She has professionals do her hair and makeup...

The investigation into the murder of Rachel Hopkins continues.

Authorities are looking into a possible connection

with St. Hilary's Girls School,

the elite local institution that Hopkins once attended.

We all hide behind the version of ourselves we present to the world.

Hopkins's close friend and current St. Hilary's headmistress,

Helen Wang, has so far refused to comment.

But people don't change.

Not really.

Not inside.

- Oh my God. That sucks. -

- You're so funny. - Know what I hate?

- Freshmen? - Helen!

No. What I hate

is insecure people.

Ew.

It's weird.

'Cause her sister's cool.

Maybe she just eats her feelings.

- Girl's got a lot of feelings. -

She's probably just lonely.

Maybe we should invite her over?

Bring her to our table. I'm gonna go get another Coke.

I think she's up to something.

Catherine.

Come sit with us.

I don't know...

I don't really think they want me over there.

They can be nice sometimes.

Hey, Catherine.

- Whatcha reading? - Mary Shelley's Frankenstein .

Oh. Nice.

Catherine Kelly!

How are you?

Oh my God. I love your hair.

What's your secret?

- I don't really have one. - No, it's way prettier...

I'm so sorry. Here, have mine.

- Oh, that's all right. - No, I insist.

- Really, I don... I don't need another one. - Drink up.

- Tastes like something's in it. - There is.

Piss.

What?

- She just drank my piss! -

- Oh my God! - Ew!

- I didn't know. - Oh no!

- Rachel, you're the worst! - Skank!

- No! - Bye!

Oh my God!

- You're unbelievable. - No!

It's not like Lexy works on a road crew,

diggin' ditches or hangin' drywall!

She literally sits on her ass for a living.

Fabulous, ladies. Let's cut her loose.

Uh, you cannot rush perfection.

Horse shit. We gotta go.

- We're walking. - Teeth.

- Good. - Thank you very much.

Thank you, ladies.

Okay, you got the GBI press conference

about the charges they weren't consulted on

that were brought by the DA's office.

They got that police reform nonsense. Blah, blah, blah.

We are leading with Dahlonega, correct?

Correct. Lead with it, then put it to bed.

To bed? What do you mean? I'm just getting started.

There's only so much to be milked from a dead white woman,

no matter how many times she's been stabbed.

Okay, look at me.

Deep breath.

We don't need a home run. Stand-up double will be just fine.

So I thought I'd take a beat at the moment.

Uh, start to let Atlanta know I needed to take some personal time,

but I'm back and grateful for the support, because I am.

I love it. It's great.

Maybe swallow hard right after, like you've got a lump in your throat.

We'll see what the viewer response is and...

- And what? - Who knows?

The return of the queen.

Jesus Christ.

Blackmail. But why?

- - Beg. Beg me, Clyde.

Take that, bitch.

Yeah, you pig...

Rachel, grab his balls.

- You like that, Clyde? -

- Slap him, Helen! - You like that?

Gotcha!

Fuck! Goddammit!

You said Mommy's F word.

I know, baby. I'm sorry.

I'm, uh... I'm sorry.

Whose phone is that?

What? It...

It's my phone.

It's pink.

Yeah, I know, but, uh, boys can have pink phones.

It's possible.

What you looking at?

What, on the phone?

Just...

just... just looking at some work stuff.

Mommy says it's time for dinner.

Does she? Okay. Will you tell Mommy I'll be right down?

- Yes. - Okay.

- Who took the last drumstick? - Well, they shorted us.

But I really like those drumsticks.

So do I. Did you pay for it?

No.

You know who else didn't pay for it? Mama.

There you go, baby.

Meg, go watch TV.

But I wanna see Uncle Jack.

In the living room. Now.

- But-- - Just do as I say.

Hey, hey, hey, hey. Go easy.

- No, she's fine. Turn on Love Island. - Turn on Sesame Street , baby.

Well, that ain't even on anymore, Einstein.

- Hell is up your ass? - What the fuck is going on?

Okay, look, you have no idea what I have to deal with in a given day.

- Can you sit down and eat your chicken? - Know what? I do not doubt it.

- Turn the damn TV on. - Would you go easy?

What's on your mind, huh? What are you going through?

Rachel was my friend.

Oh yeah? That right? When was the last time you saw her?

What, 20 years ago? Cry me a fuckin' river.

- Last week at the Shell station. - Did you?

She went out of her way to say hi. Why do you suppose?

I don't know. Y'all are so close. You tell me.

- Something you wanna say to me? - No.

Were you fuckin' her?

Oh my God. You were fuckin' her.

Hey. Hey, listen.

What I do in my life is my business, okay?

My personal life is my business. You understand?

Were you with her the night she died?

- I told you I was working late. - Were you?

- I was working late. That's what. - At what?

- You're a Lumpkin County "detective." - Stop. That's great.

When I said you could move in after your batshit wife bugged out,

I meant for a couple weeks, not a fuckin' year.

Am I a fuckin' burden to you?

- Is it the bills I pay? - Okay.

The groceries I buy? Taking Meg everywhere she needs to go?

What is so fuckin'... I'm trying to wrap my head around.

- Meg, why don't you go upstairs? - No!

- Go to my room. - Go to your room. You listen to me.

- I am your mother! - You super mom, ain't you?

- Goddamn it. - Leaving Meg alone all day.

Tell you what I could do. I could leave.

You can go back to selling Mom and Dad's shit on eBay.

Wanna do that? You know what? Fuck, you got child support, right?

Oh no. That's gonna be hard. You ain't got a clue who the daddy is.

- Did you kill Rachel? - Don't you dare come at me with that shit.

Did you do it, Jack?

I'm a detective. I'm your brother.

You really think I could do something like that?

Do you really think it?

Why'd you swab Meg?

Playing detective? Really, Jack?

- Stop. - What?

Think I wouldn't notice my sad sack of a brother starts staying out late

three nights a week with a bounce in his step.

Then Rachel gets butchered.

You turn pissy and angry again and come in reeking of perfume.

Not the Walgreens kind, the expensive shit that sticks.

The same kind Rachel fuckin' Hopkins

nearly smothered me with at the Shell station.

- Okay! - So let's play detective, Jack.

Were you with her or not?

- Yeah. - Yeah, and?

I... I had sex with her. Is that what you--

- Where? - In my truck.

- Where in Dahlonega, you fuckin' idiot. - I just... I...

In the forest, Zoe. I had sex. I had sex with her in the forest. I did.

And I fucking left. I did it, and I left.

- I don't know what happened. - You tell your cop buddies?

- Course I didn't. - Why not?

They'd look the way you're looking at me. Zoe, I mean, what... what... what ...

I didn't hurt Rachel.

- You look me in my eyes and tell me that. - Zoe! Zoe.

Come on, I...

I did not... hurt her.

I didn't.

- Hi. - Hi.

Uh, two DNA samples for processing in the Rachel Hopkins case.

Okay. Bring 'em on in.

- It's fascinating what you all do. - Yeah. Okay...

I collected the genetic material, by the way, for both samples.

One from Clyde Duffie, and the other is mine.

Did he ever find it?

Sorry?

Your partner.

His wedding band.

He asked when he dropped off his samples. Thought he might've lost it here.