The Chicago police receive an anonymous note from someone claiming to have attacked Melanie Foster! Cop A turns his nose up at the letter, saying it's probably just another one of the dozens of crazies who've already written in to claim responsibility. And yet, Cop B points out, this one "knows about the ax." The Desperate Housewives "we may just have ourselves an ax murderer on our hands" music swells!

Bree, who's sadly back in black, waits for Rex's body at the morgue. She shivers and looks very sad. An orderly rolls in with the body bag, and Bree tells him there's a hearse right outside. The orderly makes some ridonkulous excuse about having to go back for some paperwork and leaves, never to return again. Bree stands there, alone with the body, and for an awful moment I was sure she was going to unzip the bag and take a look. But Bree seems satisfied talking to the sealed bag: "I'm here, sweetheart, and I'm going to take care of everything. But you knew that, didn't you? You've always known that you can count on me."