Rita's phone rings, and of course it's FOP. The scene shifts to his little motel room, where beer bottles are strewn all around. "Just making sure dear Dexter is dealing decently with his dead dad." Aw, did someone just learn about alliteration in eighth grade English? As FOP chuckles at his own rapier wit, Rita tells him that everyone's fine. "We'll see you on Monday." "No, talk to me. You having fun? Because I'm not." "Paul," Rita exasps. "I could have been at the circus, eating peanuts, stepping in elephant shit." Rita explains that if he wants to build up to more visitation rights, this is the type of shit he needs to stop pulling. "So maybe, you'd like to just politely hang up," she says. "You're right. You have a great weekend," FOP says sarcastically and hangs up. Dude, I hate FOP. He's such a rage-ball. Hate!
Dexter's standing over the kitchen sink as the water runs, VOing, "A secret life. The only thing Joe and I have in common. There's nothing else in this house to connect us." All of a sudden, Rudy's there, which...duh. "Hiding out?" he asks. "Cleaning up," Dex replies. "I can only imagine what you're going through." "A lot of Lemon Fresh Joy," says Dex, trying to joke. "You joke. Good defense, by the way." "Thank you, I think." Rudy brings up how heavy it must feel that Joe could actually be Dexter's father. "The only way that's a possibility is if Harry was wrong, and, uh, that's just not possible." "Or he lied," says Rudy.
"Don't you worry, little man, you're not going to feel a thing," says a doctor, wheeling young Dexter into surgery. "I thought there was a problem, with my blood." "Your dad fixed it. See, you have a very special blood type. AB-negative. It's hard to come by, and our supply was low. But your dad knew somebody with blood just like yours. You're very lucky." Harry steps in and tells Dexter he's going to be good as new. "I will?" "Hey, would I lie to you?" Apparently so.
"When my father was dying, he just asked me for one thing. 'Be an honest man.' That's all he asked. I made him that promise and that's why I became a cop. Now this Haitian man is dead, and I don't know why, but I know it ain't right. If I talk, I'll be a rat to the whole precinct. But if I lie --" "Hold on," says the I.A. guy in the back seat of Angel's cruiser. He has to flip the tape in the recorder. "Go ahead," he says when he's done. Angel looks distraught, but instead of saying anything else, he just hands the guy the report he got from Dexter. "The blood spatter doesn't match Doakes's report. Also, I heard Doakes's nine-millimeter go off before the .38. He must have had good cause --" "So Doakes fired first?" "Doakes fired first," Angel confirms. The I.A. guy gets out of the car. Oh, man, poor Angel! What a shitty predicament to be in. He looks completely disconsolate.