R.J. Decker

Previously on R.J. Decker...

- What are you wearing? - Excuse me?

Change your shirt and meet me at the address I'm about to send you.

Who needs you to change your shirt?

Wish. Yeah, he might have a new client for me.

Welcome to the humble abode of the Carter family.

That's Holden. He may have relapsed.

R.J., Holden has been found.

Holden was about to blow the whistle.

He was willing to go up against his own father.

Holden wasn't supposed to die.

The plan was only to discredit him.

- Still think it was me. - It was not you.

Of course, I'll have to notify the police.

This is a case for Homicide.

Homicide?

I don't think you fully understand, Bigelow.

You've been murdered.

R.J., is that you?

Yeah.

Are you alone?

Yes, very.

Aw, no love connection?

No, I wasn't her type.

Dude, you're everybody's type.

Maybe you could've worn a nicer shirt.

Yeah, or my prison blues.

Thought my criminal record might be a deal-breaker,

but it turns out she asked Mauricio to set us up

because she only dates felons.

- Creepy. - Yeah.

But doesn't that make you her type?

Apparently I'm not felonious enough. She likes the repeat offenders.

Okay, maybe when it comes to matchmakers,

we can do better than our old pals from Apalachee.

I'm sorry, what? W-Who's we?

The algorithms for the dating apps are, like, insane now.

I can help you poke around online tomorrow, try to find the right one.

Algorithms? I think I'd rather go back to prison.

And why are you so determined to fix me up all of a sudden?

Just trying to help you make better choices, that's all.

Better than what?

I saw you having drinks with Emi Ochoa at F.M. Station, and you looked friendly.

It's not what you think.

We were married, okay? I know what you look like when you want to have sex.

Emi Ochoa and I are not sleeping together.

We're not. She feels bad about what happened. She wants to...

she wants to make up for it.

And how exactly does one make up for perjuring oneself

and sending an innocent person to prison?

She brought me a case last week. It worked out.

We went out for a drink to celebrate. That's it.

I'm fine. Everything's fine, okay?

So, if you'll excuse me, I have an early meeting with a client tomorrow.

I'm not going to sleep with him either.

Okay. Here's Louise on her way to yoga.

Playing mah-jongg at the club.

Buying groceries. Bob...

As much as I'd like to keep taking your money,

I've been following your wife for a week.

I have seen nothing that tells me she's cheating on you.

Look at Louise. Now look at me.

She is at least a nine. I am a five,

and that's when my psoriasis isn't acting up.

I should've known better than to think that I could keep her happy.

Are you sure this whole affair thing isn't just all in your head?

I mean, are you sure?

You see these earrings? I didn't buy those for her.

I checked her credit card receipts. She didn't buy them for herself.

And when I asked her about it,

she said that they were gifts from her mother,

but, uh, I-I know that she's lying. I...

I love her, Mr. Decker, so much, and I need to know what's going on.

Because if I know what's going on, maybe I can fix it.

Maybe I can make her love me again.

Hey, Bob.

I've been thinking. Maybe you're right. Maybe the affair is all in my head.

Bob, do you know anything about a-a storage locker on 19th Street?

No, why? Did Louise go to a storage locker?

Is that where you are now?

No, I'm in front of a house on Palmetto. She just went inside.

Does it have a fountain in front with pink flamingos?

Yeah, it does.

Son of a... That's the Howards' house. She must be there to meet Preston.

Okay, who's Preston?

We know him and his wife from the club.

He and Louise both played in the pickleball tournament.

Okay, Bob, listen to me. Everything's gonna be okay.

Deep breath and repeat after me, okay? Everything...

Everything...

...is gonna be--

Mr. Decker, what was that?

Mr. Decker, can you hear me? Mr. Decker, are you there?

Fire marshal says it's looking like an accident.

There was a gas leak somewhere inside, then a spark.

Happens sometimes in these old houses that haven't converted to electric.

What about bodies?

One. Badly burned, so no ID yet.

It's got to be my client's wife.

I saw her go inside right before it happened.

Respectfully, I'm a homicide detective,

- not a tragic accident detective. - Yeah, I get it. I...

Unless you're thinking the fire marshal has it wrong.

My client was convinced his wife was having an affair,

maybe with the guy that lives in this house.

Thirty seconds after she went inside,

the place goes up in smoke?

- What? - Fine.

- What? - Oh, you think what?

He rigged the house, waited for you to confirm she was here, and then what?

It's possible.

I mean, until now he seemed like nothing but a nice guy,

but who knows?

No, no, no, no, no!

Sir, sir, you have to stay back.

This is my house. Please, I need to find my wife. Her name is Natalie.

Detective Mel Abreu. Are you Preston Howard?

Yes. I've been trying to reach my wife, but I can't.

Please tell me she wasn't in there.

Mr. Howard, there was one fatality.

But we have reason to believe it was someone other than your wife.

You're saying somebody other than Natalie?

Mr. Howard, d-do you know a Louise Vernon?

Yeah. W-We go to the same country club.

Are-Are you saying she was inside my house? Did she do this?

Any chance she was coming here to meet you today?

Me? Why? W-Why would she?

Why isn't anybody trying to find my wife?

We'll find her, Mr. Howard. But first,

I know the fire marshal has some questions about your house.

I can't believe it. I can't believe that Louise is gone.

Bob, like I said, the person who died, the body, it hasn't been identified yet.

But y-you said you saw her go inside. Who else could it be?

Mr. Vernon, have you ever been inside the Howards' house?

Uh, they hosted a holiday cocktail thing a few years ago. Why?

Well, you called Mr. Decker this morning. He told you he saw Louise go inside. Then...

You...

You think that I blew it up somehow?

Are you insane?

You did hire a PI because you thought your wife was cheating on you.

I told you how much I loved her. I told you I wanted to fix things.

Bob, I know. I know.

Please. Just go.

Thoughts?

My gut says he didn't do it.

And yet?

And yet, jealous husband, dead wife. I know.

Two and two almost always equal four,

and yet the fire marshal's preliminary take was the explosion was accidental.

And yet, Louise was up to something this morning.

The car rental, the wig, the storage locker.

I repeat, two plus two almost always equal four.

Look, she was having an affair.

She changed her car and her appearance to visit a neighborhood

where she could have been recognized.

Her death? Act of God, not act of Bob.

Okay.

Look, something's up with the storage locker. It was big.

It's way too big for a... for a wig and a change of clothes.

- I'm gonna check it out. - Okay. You find something that tells you

that the explosion wasn't an accident, you let me know.

Meantime, I'm gonna go focus on crimes I know were murders.

Gotcha. Let's go.

Just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse.

Louise?

You chose the wrong night to try to rob a storage locker, pal.

You honestly want me to believe you're a private investigator?

We can check my website if you want,

but I think we'd both be better off trying to get you to a hospital.

Louise, your husband Bob hired me because he thought you might be having an affair.

I love Bob. I would never.

Louise, I believe you. I do, and not just 'cause of the gun.

I don't think you went to Preston Howard's for a nooner today.

I think you were there to rob the place.

Look, my least favorite job as a PI is tailing cheating spouses.

A close second is asset retrieval.

See, insurance companies pay guys like me to be on the lookout

for stolen goods in pawn shops, on the black market.

I recognize that from a bulletin one of those companies emailed me.

If I had to take a guess, I'd say everything in here is stolen.

You'd be wrong.

I bought this stuff at swap meets, cash transactions.

If any of it is stolen, news to me.

Louise...

Bob thinks you're dead.

Now, I watched you go inside the Howards' house. I have pictures.

I... I didn't mean to... to not go home to Bob.

- I only came here to change my clothes. - Okay.

Well, if you're here, who was inside the house when it exploded?

I smelled the gas the second I got inside,

but I don't know why I kept going.