Episode #1.2

Fucking batshit! Ugh!

Fuck! Goddamn it!

Couldn't do it. You couldn't fucking do it, could you?

Just take your shot. There it is. Just fuckin'...

Fuck him up the ass! Good for you.

Goddamn it!

It took a long time,

but I understand now why things went wrong.

It all leads back here.

To this place.

To the people who did what they shouldn't have.

Hmm.

Stay classy, Zoe.

Shit.

Hi, Jack.

Jack?

Jack?

Everything all right?

Anna!

- What? - Unbelievable.

You still get pleasure in hurting me, huh?

- Just love it, don't you? - Stop being dramatic.

Any chance you get, you stab me in the back?

That's a little hyperbolic given the nature of the crime.

"Trust me, Jack. I give you my word, Jack."

- I never said, "Trust me." - You didn't need to. It was implied!

Okay, look, I'm gonna be in town for a little bit,

so let's just try and coexist, okay?

Coexist, huh? Is he here?

- Who? - Your boyfriend?

My cameraman?

Whatever, cameraman.

Tell you what, that was some inspiring work he was doing today.

Not sure what he was pointing at. Sure as shit wasn't the news.

That funny? Is that funny?

I'm sorry, I wasn't under the impression you'd been celibate.

Christ's sake. What was I supposed to do? What do you want me to do?

To stand by? Was I supposed to wait for you?

Yeah, that's exactly what the fuck you were supposed to do!

Okay, well, say that I had done that, would it have made a difference?

I don't know.

Yeah.

Look, look, maybe you're right. Maybe we should just...

Yeah, we just try to coexist, yeah?

You do your job, I do mine. We just... go our separate ways.

- Yeah, fine. - Fine.

Okay.

So you got any suspects yet?

Man, you just... you can't help yourself, can you?

What? I am doing my job!

At least tell me if Duffie's a suspect.

I don't know, Anna.

- My God. - What?

What?

You haven't even interviewed the husband yet, have you?

I went to his house. He wasn't there. We're gonna get to him, okay? What?

- Okay. Keep me posted, then! - Yeah, keep you posted.

Somebody died here, in this town, somebody that you knew.

A living, breathing human being died, okay?

Stay out of my way, or I'm gonna have you arrested.

- On what charge? - Bein' an asshole.

Unbelievable.

- What is it? - A bracelet.

A friendship bracelet.

- What? - How do you know?

My sister wore one. It's, like, a teenage-girl thing.

Hm. I was a teenage girl. Still never wore one of those.

Would you say you had an abundance of friends, Detective?

We'll test it for DNA. Ooh, I haven't received samples from you two yet.

Yeah, we'll, uh, take these to go.

It'll take five seconds. Do it and be done with it.

- Gotta get to the husband. - Oh, you said that yesterday.

Man...

Sorry for your loss, sir.

Mr. Duffie, you got any idea why your wife would be parked

in the woods at night?

To fuck, I imagine.

I have diabetes and congestive heart failure.

My ability to achieve an erection is... more miss than hit.

Your wife's infidelity, that... it didn't bother you?

I wouldn't go that far.

I didn't ask for heart disease.

But...

...I didn't fault Rachel.

Young woman, healthy libido.

Sir, do you have any idea who...

who she might have been with that night?

We had an understanding.

Not in the house, not in Dahlonega, and no names.

Men, women...

Rachel preferred sex when she didn't care about the other person.

The more detached, the better.

She liked cars.

Loved trucks.

Cars and trucks, Mr. Duffie?

Fornicating in them.

She found it exciting, dirty.

Like she was sneakin' around or still in high school.

That's why the woods.

Sure does sound like you didn't have the highest opinion of your wife.

Would I be right to say that?

Are you married, Detective Harper?

Yeah. I am, sir. Yeah.

I loved my wife.

She made me happy.

Rachel had a mercenary energy,

a vivaciousness that I found... intoxicatin'.

If it sounds to you like I had a low opinion of her,

that's your bias, not mine.

Okay.

Did she like my money, being wealthy?

Wouldn't you?

That's important around here. It's important anywhere.

Okay. How'd that work, the money?

She have a joint account?

Well, Rachel was a bit of a spendthrift.

I made the money. She spent it.

Sometimes a little too aggressively. I gave her a healthy allowance.

But...

We were a team.

As hokey as that sounds.

Pardon me.

Mr. Duffie, I hate to ask you, but...

where were you the night that your wife died?

Here at home, mostly.

I imagine there's somebody that can confirm that?

Mary Ann.

Rachel leaves.

I take Mary Ann out.

We return home.

Something you're in the habit of, sir? You walk your dog in the rain?

When you gotta go, you gotta go.

Uh-huh. Even in an electrical storm, huh?

She's a 220-pound dog. You wanna clean up after her?

No, sir.

Sir, could you rewind to see Rachel leaving again?

Sure.

Just there. Thank you.

She's talking to someone on the phone when she's leaving the house.

Your wife wasn't in the habit of location sharing with you?

Given our arrangement, we thought it best not to.

Yeah. Well, we've asked her carrier to put a trace on her phone,

so hopefully it's still charged and on.

Oh, it's on.

I called it all yesterday and again this morning

to listen to her voicemail.

I miss her.

Mr. Duffie, I understand that.

I do, but you're gonna have to stop, sir.

Every time you call, you drain the battery.

You lessen our chances of finding it. You understand?

Yes, understood.

I hope you find the phone.

You find who she's talking to, you'll find who she was having sex with,

and that, most likely, is your killer.

Well, appreciate that, Mr. Duffie,

but... probably best to not jump to conclusions.

Woman winds up murdered, missing...

Husband first, boyfriend second.

I know I didn't do it.

We'll need that video footage, sir.

We'll also need, uh, your prints, a DNA swab,

and your dog-walking clothes.

Right here, Detective.

Those clothes?

These clothes are clean, sir.

I washed and dried 'em the night of.

- You... you wash your shoes? - They were muddy.

Huh. You just had them out here for us? All convenient like that, huh?

Well, I didn't know she'd been murdered, did I?

Sir, if I may ask.

Why do you think Rachel liked sex when she didn't care about the other person?

You used the word "detached."

Told me her strongest orgasms were when her partner was beneath her.

Literally and figuratively.

Good chance she let whoever she was with know that,

most likely while they were still inside her.

What makes you say that?

Rachel,

for all her qualities,

had a mean streak.

And you think it contributed to her death?

Stabbed 40 times.

She pissed off somebody.

- How do you know that, sir? - How do I know what?

Just said your wife was stabbed 40 times. How did you know that?

Anna Andrews told me.

- She used to be the WSK-TV-- - I know who she is.

Supposedly, she'd been talking to half the deputies in your department.

Seems to know a lot more than you two do.

- When did Anna Andrews come? - This morning.

She was railing on the door at 6:30 a.m.

What, did she ask you for an interview?

She asked. I refused.

- Okay. - But, uh...

But what, Mr. Duffie?

She's pushy, that one.

Mr. Duffie, during this, uh, this interview,

did she ask you anything that we didn't ask you?

If Rachel might've told anyone who she was meeting in the woods.