Back at the hotel crime scene, Ghost Harry and the Sunflares berate Dexter for finding blood on the cactus and essentially extending his work day. Dexter protests that it's his job, but Harry says he has a family to support and is spreading himself too thin. "What happens when somebody else finds that body?" Harry asks, getting Dex to speed up. Hey, I don't need to keep reiterating that Ghost Harry is merely Dexter's subconscious talking to him, right? You guys are smart and realize this, yes? Good.
Back inside, Quinn and Angel are bagging evidence. Quinn guesses the safe's combination is the victim's birthdate and opens it to find two fat stacks of cash. With Angel otherwise occupied, Quinn bags one stack and then -- not smoothly at all -- pockets the second one, in FULL VIEW of Dexter. Squirrelly Quinn looks away, not knowing that Dex is maybe the best guy possible to have witnessed that. I'll let the man's VO explain for himself: "Don't sweat it, Quinn. I've got much bigger things to worry about." Meanwhile, Masuka tries to glom on to Dexter's blood-on-the-yucca discovery ("There's no 'me' in team! Well, technically..."). Dex jets off to run the DNA tests. Ah, but first a detour!
Back at the station, Deb is interrogating her suspect, a fiftysomething grizzled old shell of a man named Noonan, while Lundy just kind of chills in the corner. Deb lays out the specifics of the crime he was sent away for -- killing his wife in the bathtub by severing her femoral artery -- and tells him the M.O is awfully similar to the case she's working on now, not to mention the same house. As soon as he hears about the murder from the other night, our suspect flips. "Oh, no fuckin' way!" he wails. Calmer, he says he didn't kill his wife, which given the guilty plea (and in all honesty, even absent one) Deb naturally doesn't buy it for a second. He says with the evidence stacked against him in a death penalty state, yeah, he plead out. Deb shows him the photos of the Bell murder, which cause Noonan to flinch. "Tell us what you did," Deb demands, but instead, Noonan recounts the details of the night his wife was killed, when he says he was out buying drugs. Oh, that old excuse. Deb, again, is unbelieving and unsympathetic. But Noonan goes on to offer an alibi for Monday night (when Bell was killed); he was working at the homeless shelter in Allapattah until 8AM. Lundy says they'll call the shelter to verify.
Outside the interrogation room, Deb surprises us once again. Time was, Deb would be so stubborn and eager to bag her man that she'd dig in her heels right about now. But she talks it through with Lundy: Noonan's filthy, while Bell's killer was meticulously neat; Noonan's got the shakes, while Bell was sliced with surgical precision. They both agree that he's not their guy -- and it doesn't take Lundy much leading before they both agree that it's unlikely Bell's murder was a copycat of a 30-year old rando crime. Noonan's probably innocent. "Shit," exhales Debra. Yeah, I'd say so. Lundy asks if Deb wants to meet for dinner, he can run some theories by her. So it certainly seems like Lundy wanted to see if Deb's police-work had progressed in the last two years. On the one hand, I'm happy to see it has, even if Deb was largely unaware she was being put through any paces. On the other hand, it's awfully cold of Lundy to make his ex jump through hoops like this. The whole thing's appealingly complex, at any rate. Oh, and Deb is kind of freaked out by the invitation but accepts.
Back at the harbor, Trinity continues to spy on the mother and child and they both check out the dogs at what appears to be a pet adoption fair? Or something? Anyway: creepier still!
"I still have miles to go before I sleep," VOs Dexter as he heads back to the boxing arena, i.e. the scene of the crime. He gets random flashes of last night's kill, but nothing close to a coherent narrative. (If this were a worse show, here's where I could make a really cutting remark about the storytelling. Damn you, competent show!) He checks the ring and is distressed to find a spot of blood on the canvass. "I was off my game," Dexter's VO no-shits, as he grabs his spatter kit and scrubs out that spot like a Scottish harridan. Somewhat interestingly (and saving this bit of cliché), the guilt Dexter's feeling here isn't over committing the murder but over how poorly he's covered it up. He's let down Harry's Code. As he talks himself through, Dexter stumbles upon a key question: "What would I do with a body if I didn't have time to dispose of it?" He perks to attention. "I'd hide it." So now he just needs to remember where. He first checks under the ring and finds nothing -- not even a ladder, some steel folding chairs, or Mr. Fuji, which means this was definitely a boxing ring and not a wrestling ring. Getting more and more agitated, Dex blasts through the lockers, knocking shit over. It's rare to see Dexter this unnerved. He pulls it together and tries to focus. Where did he go after here? "The pharmacy."
Out behind the pharmacy, Dexter prepares to go dumpster diving. With another bright flash of sunlight, Ghost Harry appears and once again criticizes Dexter's methods. Man, Dexter has a naggy subconscious. Harry's dressed in his police uniform, the same one he wore the day he took Dexter home from the melee in which his mother was killed. Harry notes that that day was the last time Dexter's memory failed him like this. "Why is that?" "Because not remembering saved me," said Dexter. Though, okay, to be honest? It didn't save him from becoming a serial-killing sociopath, right? Eh, we'll give Harry the benefit of the doubt. Harry then notes that this time, the only way to save himself is to remember. Okay, not at all helpful, Harry. Pointing out life's little ironies is not what Dexter needs in this situation. Harry once again reminds Dexter that if he can't find the body, Harrison will grow up with a daddy on death row. Even more agitated, Dexter stomps off to check the incident reports and make sure no McDonald's drive-thru employee got a hefty bag full of torso in exchange for a Quarter Pounder last night.
Rita's at the impound lot, having taken the initiative to retrieve the car so they can get an estimate on it. The lot guy's like, "Yeah, I estimate you'll want to claim it as totaled, because check it out." Rita's shocked to see Dexter's "fender bender" left the minivan a crumpled mess. The lot guy says Dexter should "count his blessings" after a crash like that. "Yes, he should," Rita says, pissed.
In the parking lot outside the station, Quinn decides the smart play is to make nice with Dexter, now that Dex saw him pocket that cash. He completely eats shit and apologizes for going off on him after the Gomez case. He also plans on tracking Gomez down and letting him know he's still on Quinn's radar. Dexter's at least aware enough not to look super squirrelly at that statement, but he also can't get away from Quinn fast enough. Quinn's left to wonder whether that's because Dex plans to rat on him.
In his lab, Dexter can't even remember the password for his own computer until Subconsciously Glowing Ghost Harry reminds him that it's "harry." Really? His dad's first name? He can murder half of the greater Miami population without getting caught yet his login password is his dad's first name? I mean, there's assimilating into the greater population and then there's ... that. Anyway, no random body parts have turned up in the incident log, which is a good sign. Dex reaches into his bag for a Red Bull (moron) and pounds it. Here's where I started yelling at my TV screen for Dexter to just go to sleep already. He's clearly not functioning at anything above the most basic levels, his mind is runny tapioca at this point, and he looks like he smells like a sock. One good six-hour nap would do him wonders, but no, instead he's pounding that vile witches brew.
In the break room, The Unlikely and Vaguely Unsettling Friendship of Deb and LaGuerta continues. Deb's binging on Girl Scout cookies on account of Lundy. She thinks the in