And after the cops roll in and a handcuffed Matheson tells Paxson it's her lucky day, an officer tells her he found the "other" getaway car: the selfsame Impala from the dry-cleaning robbery. With C-4 in the trunk. Paxson makes a thinky-face. It's clearly a strain for her.
Outside his place, Tommy introduces Michael to his 200-1 shot greyhound. It's still got a bandaged leg, but it clearly has calmed down quite a bit. Michael bossily tells Tommy to go straight, but Tommy's way ahead of him. He's thinking of moving to St. Louis, where his mom is, and starting a kennel there. They shake, and Tommy thanks him for having his back. Big hug. "I think you guys are going to be okay without me," Tommy says. Michael just grins, because that's more polite than laughing in Tommy's face.
Paxson comes and finds Michael sitting at a table at the Carlito, reading a newspaper, and tells him she closed her biggest case. Michael politely congratulates her. "Thing is," Paxson says, "he was a master criminal who managed to get stuck in a locked meth lab with C-4 in a getaway car parked outside." Michael acts surprised, unconvincingly, and she is suitably unconvinced. She adds that her perp's MO doesn't historically include C-4, although it has been used in other Miami explosions. "Any thoughts?" she invites. Michael removes his sunglasses and suggests, "Well, it seems like you can close the books on those cases. Or you can keep coming after me and have the case against Matheson unravel." Wow, how did he even find a place on the table to put his sunglasses with all his cards in the way? "So I get Matheson and you get a free pass?" she asks. He assures her that any pass he might have gotten wasn't free. He repeats that they're on the same side, and she dismisses the cop escort -- which has somehow reacquired Michael since he ditched them for the 79th time -- with a bob of her head. Or maybe she's just glancing at the traffic. Either way, they're off Michael's trail again, and they no longer have to spend their time sticking to him like felt on a fridge. Leaving, she tells him to "remember where the line is, Mr. Westen. I will be watching." "I'd expect nothing less," he replies. Whatever, three episodes is plenty.
At Madeline's house, Sam has figured out how to resolve the audit situation: get it drunk. Sitting across from Sam at Madeline's dining room table, Stacey says that he thought this was his chance to get back at Sam. "I'm glad you found me," Sam says smoothly. Stacey agrees, and asks for another drink. Sam obliges with a fuzzy navel. "It's not really my kind of thing, but we gotta start you off easy. Work your way up to the good stuff." Stacey's thrilled to have a drinking guru, and asks if he can call Sam from bars with drinking questions. Sam tells him anytime. "Is this not the best audit ever?" Stacey giggles. Okay, I don't believe this for a second, but I'm sure it'll come in handy in the future for Sam to have a "buddy" at the IRS. He's got them everywhere else.