Nadia is telling Quinn her sob story about how she left home and her dreams of starting a dog-walking business, like if that's true, maybe she should bone up (I'm SO sorry) on her animal expressions. Nadia then tells Quinn about her instructions from Isaak Pullo, which I guess isn't as surprising as I first thought, given her declaration that she's scared to go back to them with nothing. Quinn suggests that he feed Nadia just enough information to keep her bosses happy, while she keeps her ears open for any news relating to Anderson's murder. Nadia's down but still worried for Quinn, which is nice of her, given that she's the one going to be putting her head in the lion's mouth every day. Quinn, however, thinks it'll be fine, but he probably just wants to get to the sexin'.

Oh hey, guess who got off work "early" and is showing up to "Speltzer's" house to take him up on his "offer"? That waitress from earlier! He promises her "the best mojito in Miami," and I'm guessing she knows the odds of that are pretty slim. It's not going to be the biggest disappointment of her night, anyway.

Dexter has managed to penetrate the mausoleum, and inside, he finds a little shrine, on top of which is the missing earring from that girl referenced earlier. Still doesn't explain what he was doing in there for twenty minutes, but I already made my suggestion. Dexter decides against alerting Speltzer to his having been there and instead snaps a picture of the thing. Unfortunately, the message fails to send thanks to lack of a signal...

...which provides a logical cut to Deb's phone screen informing her she has no new messages. She also pretty much has no charge, which is probably why she turns her phone off, and I'd complain about the plot contrivance, but given that she's got a BlackBerry I actually find this a refreshing taste of vérité. She looks like she's getting ready to head home, but has a reluctant change of heart and calls Dexter to tell him that, thanks to the paranoia she's absorbed from him, she's going to swing by Speltzer's house to make sure he's "tucked in" for the night. "Thank you for fucking up my evening, bro." It'll be a while before they can laugh about that one.

So the waitress' expectations for this date have already been severely tempered, as there's barely any furniture in the place, and what he has is covered in plastic like in a children's book in which a friend of the protagonist has a super-uptight mother. Obviously against her better judgment, she takes a seat, and seriously, of all people, I would think a waitress, who should be used to dealing with creepers of all sorts, would have a developed lizard brain and would use the opportunity of him going to make the drinks to get the hell out of there.