Down at the docks, LaGuerta's getting a snack and calling Doakes. He sees her call, and chooses to ignore it. Now, I'd like to nitpick about the sound design in this scene if I may. We hear a female announcer saying that there's a flight arriving from the Dominican Republic, and it sounds like Doakes is actually in the terminal, judging from the amount of reverb and the clarity with which we can hear the announcement. However, after Doakes hangs up, he opens up the door to his car and steps out. Now, if his car window were open, I could maybe accept that there are outdoor speakers and the reverb was caused by slap-back on other buildings, but there's no way it would sound like that inside his car. I understand they needed to get across that Doakes is at the airport, because there's nothing in his surroundings that would give that away, but I think a boarding pass would've done the trick instead of the producers trying to fix it in post. That's just lazy television, Showtime, and I've come to expect better. Sorry, that's the end of my rant. Anyway, LaGuerta's pissed that Doakes isn't answering, so she leaves him an irate message as we see him grab his bags and cover something up in his trunk: "You know what? Fuck you, James! Fuck you and your disappearing act. You know, you didn't just stand me up last night, you screwed yourself out of a six-figure security job, which means that being a cop is one of the few options you have left! So, stop pissing off the people who can help you! Lundy's people have been trying to reach you. They just want a hand with the Bay Harbor Butcher case. James, give it to them. Show Lundy that you're a team player. Fake it! And...pick up when I call again." She looks weird, like she's done something different with her hair. I think she's still in love with Doakes and all this stuff is breaking her heart, that's what I think.
Deb and Lundy are naked in bed. So much for taking it slow. They're staring into each other's eyes. "Your right eye's a little darker than your left eye," observes Deb. "And you weigh about fifty pounds," replies Lundy. "I'm gonna have to fatten you up." "Didn't seem to bother you last night...or this morning." Hey-o! "So much for takin' it slow, huh?" he asks. "Slow part was nice." Yeah, it was. All five seconds of it. "I guess that's the perk of dating a man that's experienced." "Read: old guy." Deb insists that she means what she said, that his "experience" and "technique" are what...you know what? I don't really care, and neither should you. While I don't have any problems, necessarily, with them as a couple, they're not really what this show is about. All you need to know is they're having cuddle-time pillow-talk, and "dating someone so young" is new to Lundy. The gist is that he wants Deb to be honest with her coworkers about their involvement, and she's resistant. In Lundy's experience, "full disclosure is the best option," but Deb is worried about stirring up resentment. Lundy's forced to drop it, however, when his phone rings with news of a development in the BHB case. Lundy jumps out of bed, and we're treated to a view of the back of his ball-sack, which is just lovely. He barks orders into the phone as Deb looks on, and when he hangs up she asks what's going on. "Not sure," he replies, heading into the shower. "Something break on the Butcher?" "I gotta go," he says, avoiding the query. "There's quiche. Eat it." "Wait, shouldn't we finish talking about this whole full disclosure thing?" He's already in the shower and doesn't hear this, leaving Deb looking worried.
At the station, Dex steps out of the elevators, for real this time. "Lundy's bees are buzzing," he VOs, noticing the new faces on the floor. "Something's agitated the hive." Angel and LaGuerta and a few other cops whose names we don't know are placing bets on who they think it might be. "Looks like much ado about somethin' in there," offers Dex, hoping to catch some of the scuttlebutt. Yeah, I said it. "Lundy's got a suspect for the Butcher, and bro, it's one of us, here," says Angel. "That's...disturbing," replies Dexter, distracted by two Feds who are giving him the stink-eye. LaGuerta protests that she's sure it can't be one of her own, but Angel insists that he confirmed it himself last night: "Everything points to someone in this house." "Who in this house?" asks Dex, playing dumb. "I don't know, but something must have broke this morning, 'cause Lundy shoved us PD out of his task force, brought more Feds in. He definitely has someone in his cross-hairs." The other officers start speculating again: "What about Steinbauer in Impound? Dude's a freak." "Or it could be that murderous Morgan in blood spatter," VOs Dex. "Maybe I was being watched this morning. But they'd be doing more than watching if they had proof." Deb comes in and wonders aloud what's going on. "You tell us," says LaGuerta bitchily. "Why would I know?" asks Deb, insulted. "Come on, you're his pet," says Angel. "Fuck you!" "Seriously, what's Lundy got? Or is he just blowing smoke?" asks one of the random cops. Deb insists she doesn't know, but "if he's got something, it isn't smoke." "Man, no wonder you're his pet," jokes Angel. "Fuck you twice!" LaGuerta puts an end to the bickering: "If you're not on the task force for the day, you're clearing cases for the day, let's go." Okay, that's that, then. Everyone breaks up, and Masuka calls Dexter over for a little clandestine meeting. Dexter follows him to the lab as he watches Lundy make a phone call. "We've got company," says Masuka. "I've noticed," says Dexter, still eyeballing Lundy. "Not there. In there," says Vince, motioning towards Dexter's room with his head. "Waiting for you. Lundy brought in his own forensic techs." "What are they looking for?" Dex asks nervously. "You think they'd tell me? I'm just the LFI." Blank expression from Dexter. "Lead Forensics Investigator? Well, at least I used to be. Fuck 'em. They can have the fucking title and the acronym that goes with it. Fucking Indian givers!" Vince, put down the energy drink. Seriously, that thing's bigger than his head, which isn't saying much, but still. Dexter cautiously enters his lab room, and is met with three techs wearing white lab coats. "Dexter Morgan?" asks the sizable guy sitting at the computer. "In the flesh." They all require things from Dexter: "Please give me your access code for the forensic database." "I'd like you to walk me through your filing system." "I'll need a breakdown of evidentiary procedure and protocol." Yikes! Dexter looks freaked. "Is there something particular I can help you with?" "We just need your help navigating the lab. Your code please?" "May I?" asks Dexter, implying that he'd rather not just give out his code, and the guy wordlessly allows it. As he types in the password, Dex VOs, "If they're looking for proof, they won't find it. Not here, at least. I may have briefly rebelled against Harry, but I learned my lessons well." Oh, dude! It's flashback time! It's been a while...
Harry and teen Dex are walking down a hall, wearing suits. "Come on, Dex, tell me!" "Um, make sure they deserve it," Dexter says half-assedly. Harry waits for a couple of guys to pass, then whispers, "Dexter, this is life-or-death stuff, it's that important. Why do you think I pulled all those strings to arrange this? Now, come on, tell me! What is the number one rule?" "Don't get caught." "And what are all the other rules for?" "So I don't get caught." Harry puts his hand on Dexter's shoulder, and says, "You ready for this?" "Ready," he replies, and they head towards the room at the end of the hall, where a handful of people are sitting and looking solemn. Harry and Dexter take seats, and share awkward glances with the people around them. "Why are they looking at us like that?" "They don't know why you're here, why you need to see this. But I want this seared into your mind, son." Everyone faces forward as a curtain is drawn to reveal a man who is clearly about to be executed. "The chair?" says a voice.