A couple hours later, now evening, the body is covered with a sheet. A couple of guys from the coroner's office are taking notes as Dexter checks the blood spatter. "The suspect's name was Jacques Bayard, according to his driver's license," says Angel. "Haitian?" asks LaGuerta. Angel thinks so. "Alright," she says, speaking to Doakes now. "Let's go over it again." "I saw a gun in the suspect's waistband. I went to question him, and he took off running when he saw me." LaGuerta confirms this with Angel, who says what he saw and did. "And when you went under the causeway," LaGuerta prompts. "He took a shot at me," Doakes finishes. "I took cover and returned fire from that corner," he says, pointing at the spot where the overpass reaches ground level. "No, not from there," says Dexter, who's just rolled up. "Yeah, from fuckin' right there!" Doakes disagrees. Dexter cites the trajectory of the blood, but Doakes isn't having it. "You questioning me? 'Cause I got a lot of questions for you." Angel tries to calm Doakes down, but he doesn't relent. "The man is a fucking creep-job!" he says angrily, referring to Dexter. LaGuerta urges him to just focus on the facts. "The DA's team is ready for you. You good?" Doakes says he is. "You're next," she says to Angel, who looks bemused as he walks up to Dexter. "Sorry, but I didn't invent physics," says Dexter smiling. "He just got mixed up, is all," says Angel. "Hell, I'm not even sure what happened." "Well, trauma can distort the memory," says Dex as he takes off.
At the lab, Dexter is running more blood spatter analysis and Angel works the phones. Deb is prodding Dexter to hang with her and her boyfriend, and to bring Rita along. "It's just hard to get a babysitter on a Friday night," he says. "Dex, you're my brother. You should know my boyfriend!" "You really like using the "B" word, don't you?" Heh, yeah. That's it, Dex. Play on her insecurities. Deb tells him to stop making bullshit excuses. Dexter tells her that their last double-date was "a little awkward. I just want to make sure this one's gonna...stick." Hee! "Thanks for the vote of fucking confidence!" Gah, shut up, Debra! She tells him that's "Rudy's different. I think I'm falling for him." Thankfully, Dexter and the rest of us are spared Deb's annoying ramblings when a delivery guy asks around for Dexter. "Right here," says Dexter, and he signs for the package. Angel is standing around, looking shady for some reason. "An urgent registered letter?" says Deb. "Maybe you won a sweepstakes!" What the...? Whatever. Go away, Deb. Angel motions for Dexter to walk with him for a sec. "Did you finish your report on the shooting?" Angel asks. He did indeed. "You still think Doakes's version doesn't add up?" "Blood never lies." Thank you, Gil Grissom. Angel asks him to sit on his report until he has a chance to talk to Doakes. Dexter just hands him the file and heads back over to Deb, who's reading his letter. "We regret to inform you of the death of your father," reads Deb, who looks confused. "Dad died ten years ago." "This isn't about Harry. 'Joseph Driscoll of Dade City, Florida names his son, Dexter Morgan, of Miami as his executor.' It's a will." Deb mentions that it has to be a mistake, because Harry always said that Dexter's father died before the Morgans took him in. "He'd never make a mistake like that." "The body's awaiting cremation while they notify the next-of-kin." "Hey, I'm your only next-of-kin, don't you fuckin' forget it!" says Deb. "Oh, and I inherited a house!" says Dexter as Deb walks away. "I know the truth," Dex VOs. "Because Harry always told me the truth. He had to. He was teaching me principles, a code. He knew what I would become without it. So Joseph Driscoll of Dade City must have been mistaken."