The Afterparty

Call me a waiter, because I'm 'bout to put it all on the table, all right?

Now, did I lie to Captain tonight?

Yes, I did.

Did I also lie to you?

Also yes.

But you are my booski wooski.

You my everything.

No, no. Don't you do that to me right now.

I am this close to cracking it.

You are gonna lose your badge.

Okay, the system is messed up.

- Okay, I'm lost. What's happening? - That's why I'm doing this.

Danner's not supposed to be on this case.

- They're sending somebody else. - That's crazy.

That's good for you, right? That means she can't arrest you.

- I don't think that's how it works. - I think it is, 'cause…

- Hey. - …she's not supposed to be here.

Hey, Zoë.

- How'd it go in there? - What are you guys listening to?

We're listening to Xavier's music.

Kinda remembering-him-by-it kinda thing.

Wait. Don't tell me you actually like Xavier's music?

- God, no. - Oh, no.

Have you heard the love ballads? Have you heard "Pussy Hole"?

- That's lovely. - The title kinda turned me off.

Have you ever heard his song "Orgasm"?

No. How's that go?

- How does it go? - Yeah.

Oh, no, another hit's coming.

Where'd it go?

The man, he makes hits, right?

About that mix CD…

I should have given it to you. Yeah, I didn't have the guts.

I wish I'd known.

You know, maybe things would have been different.

Maybe.

Hey, thanks for sticking up for me in there.

- You know, that was really sweet. - What?

How would you know that I stuck up for you?

- Because... - Because... How did...

- How did he hear? - We were listening.

How?

When I came in there before, I put my phone in there,

and I called Yasper so we're able to listen to everything.

- Look at these. - Oh, my God.

- That's gutsy. - I guess.

So, they're talking right now, and you can hear them in there?

Do you wanna listen in?

- Yeah. Could I? - Yeah, okay.

Yasper, go and give Zoë your headphones now.

I don't want to. It's getting to, like, a good spot.

Can you give her the headphones so that Zoë and I can listen together?

Maybe you should listen to mine.

- What you think about that? That cool? - He did it on his own.

I believe this belongs in your earhole.

Thank you.

- You're afraid of my mouth germs? - Your saliva.

- That's where most of the germs live. - Well…

- Enjoy. - Thank you.

- I can't… - Oh, my God.

What are they saying?

- They're still fighting. - Can you give a sec?

- I can't even hear from that side. - Just one second, pal.

Aldrin Germain? The "ringer"?

- The detective they're bringing from LA? - Yeah?

I know him.

So what? Everybody knows him. He solved the La Brea Tar Pits murders.

They're making a limited series out of it. A-list cast. Clearly an awards play.

No!

I mean I know him.

We were in police academy together, down in LA.

Before I learned how screwed-up it all is.

What are you doing?

I never thought I'd be a cop.

Don't tell your story now.

But my dad was a cop.

His dad was a cop.

But I was Daddy's little girl.

And he didn't want me to be a cop.

He said it wasn't a girl's job.

And when my dad died, everything changed.

And I decided I wanted to help people the way my dad did.

So I joined up.

And my dad was right. It's a real boys' club.

- Right behind you. Right behind you. - Okay. I know you're behind me.

Okay. All right, let's go. Go, go, go.

One way or another, I kept up just fine.

Over. Under.

Over.

Under.

Under.

Under.

Germain was the golden boy. Fast, smart, a real climber. Literally.

Dang it.

Come on, Mad Dog. You got this. Get up that wall.

- Mad Dog? - Come on.

Okay.

All right.

Yeah. You all right?

- Yeah, thanks. - Yeah. Yeah.

- Thanks for having my back. - Yeah.

Well, you know, we all gotta finish the whole thing under time,

or else they make us run it again, so…

Right.

Listen. Three doors down you can get a...

Hey, Danner. Nice form on those push-ups.

Man, you dropped to your knees. I saw you.

Night, gentlemen.

Hey, come on. Come have a drink with us.

- Really? - Yeah, we need a designated driver.

Damn, I forgot to put a car seat in my car for you, Little Bill.

Sorry.

Honor. Ethics. Commitment.

It wasn't easy, but I finally made it.

And remember, what you did yesterday is not nearly as important

as what you will do today.

Because the people out there depend on you.

Don't let them down.

I was a part of something. I was finally gonna help people.

So, you say the package was stolen from the front porch?

Yeah, I ordered it online.

It was a microwave egg pod cooker.

Cooks eggs perfectly. Does all the work for you.

I have one myself.

- When did this happen? - Two days ago.

We'll do everything that we can to locate it.

And I'm just telling you, honey, when you get that in your life,

it is going to step your brunch game up times ten.

Everybody's gonna be jealous of your deviled eggs.

Lady, let's be honest, we're not gonna find your egg ball.

- Pod cooker. - Thank you, Danner.

Look, packages get stolen.

Unless we catch the guy in the act, not really much we can do.

- You know, it wasn't a guy. - What's that?

I know it was a girl. I caught her with my new doorbell camera.

Neat.

Can I see?

Is that green hair?

Ma'am, do you think we can get a copy of this video?

I posted it online right away. The whole world has it.

I don't understand. Why didn't you call us when it happened?

I didn't think you'd do anything.

But then I found out I need a police report

in order to get them to send me a new one.

Right.

187.187. Viewridge Drive perimeter.

Did she just say 187?

Oh, yeah. Homicide.

- Whoa. - Holy shit.

Well, listen, Viewridge Drive is just the next street over.

Okay. I'm sorry for the cursing.

I don't give a fuck.

Let's go. Come on. What are you doing?

I'm coming.

This much police presence, must be somebody famous.

But not that famous.

Maybe a writer?

Danner. Kleyes. Nah, nah.

I need you to guard the perimeter. No one in or out.

We get gawkers, send 'em packing.

Yes, sir, we're on it.

But whose house is this?

Pretty sure that's not information you need to know to do your job.

But let me guess, guy on the porch,

okay, husband of the deceased?

Perimeter. Now.

Some fancy pants gets killed

in the middle of the day in a low-crime neighborhood.

Nine times out of ten, it's a domestic.

Husband comes home, catches his wife cheating,

gets nuts with a rake

or a swimming pool thing or something like that.

But here, the husband isn't under arrest.

Sitting on the porch crying.

Doesn't add up.

You say something?

Why don't we split up and really work the perimeter?

Yeah, it's a good idea.

Homicide.

Yeah.

This has to be the dumbest... I don't know why they partnered me with him.

Tricia! Trish! Hey, girl.

Heya, Danner. It's been a minute.

Yeah, yeah.

Yeah, they let you out of the lab now, huh?

So, what's the 411? I hear it's not a domestic.

No, husband's the one who found her.

Wife's name is Uma something.

Husband's Vaughn. He's a TV writer.

I knew it.

Whole thing happened at the front door. They got it on the doorbell cam.

Girl in a blue hoodie is on the front porch stealing a package.

Can't see her face, of course. Wife opens the door, then bam.

Blue hoodie? Did she have green hair?

How'd you know that?

Holy shit.

All right, let's talk to the housekeeper, see if she's seen that blue hoodie before.

You know what, let's run down their close contacts just for shits and gigs.

- Detective Germain, sir? - Jesus.

- Sorry for interrupting. - Yeah, what is it, Officer?