Dexter weasels his way into the evidence locker on the pretext that Deb had a ring on her that she's desperate to get back. When the cop who lets him in has his back turned, Dexter tears the rubber gloves he's been given, leading the evidence cop to head out to grab a new pair. While the cat's away, the mouse rifles through the box, finds Lundy's recorder, swaps out tapes, and closes the box back up. When the cop returns, Dexter pretends Deb just called, saying she found her ring. He beats a hasty retreat.
At the Bludgeon Building, Trinity takes a tour of the premises with the security guard. Via a folksy chat, nominally about the dismal economy and how Trinity would like to rent an office in this building, Trinity gleans that most of the offices are empty, that Security Guard runs the night shift alone, that he runs a 45-minute floor sweep every two hours, and that he occasionally takes a smoke break. Trinity deems the building "perfect." Yikes. SG also introduces Trin to the guy who runs the sandwich counter, an impossibly cheerful, cherubic sort who is so damn HAPPY about running an effing sandwich counter that I could beat him repeatedly with a framing hammer OOOPS SPOILER!
Back home, Debra suspiciously eyes a crying Harrison from the couch and tells Rita he's crying. Deb's pleased to hear it's because he's wet and not because he hates her. Changing subjects, Rita asks Deb if she knew that Dexter kept his old apartment. Judging by Deb's "What the fuck?" -- not to mention her complete inability to lie -- we'll say "no." Deb's as shocked as she always is whenever she finds out Dexter's done something creepy. But, typical Deb, she quickly finds a way to turn Dexter's shortcomings into her own, remarking that Morgans sure do make the worst choice at all times. At least Dexter's choices don't get people killed. Rita catches on that Deb blames herself for Lundy getting shot, and asks if that's why Deb's pills are in the trash. It's nobody's fault, Rita says. "Sometimes bad things just happen." And hoo-boy is that not a good enough reason for Debra, who gets the murderin' look in her eyes. "That's the answer to this?" Deb demands, livid and almost crying. "Things just happen??" Rita tries again: "Life happens." Still not good enough, and they both know it.