At Miami Metro, Deb's in the ladies' room, looking through some Trinity files on the sly. She covers them up when LaGuerta walks in. Of course, LaGuerta's humming a song, which is the international signal for "I'm getting' some, but it's a secret." So we're in something of a Mexican standoff of deception, and though each woman is onto the other, they both back down. After LaGuerta leaves, Debra drops the file, and in bending over to pick it up, she pulls some stitches. She lifts up her shirt to get a better look at it, and when she does, something dawns on her. "Mother shit fuck," she says, which is what she says when something dawns on her.
Deb makes a beeline for Masuka's office and, after a short little play titled "Debra Takes Off Her Shirt for Legit Evidence-Gathering Purposes and Masuka Becomes Incapable of Functioning Like the 40% of a Man He Is," they get to the reason Deb is freaked. The location of Deb's wounds suggest a trajectory that isn't consistent with how tall they've got Trinity. Deb was shot by someone significantly shorter. "Fucking fuck," Deb says, realizing that Trinity didn't shoot her. (I'd holler about calling this, but it seemed kinda obvious, right?) Deb plays this scene out with a question: "Then who the fuck shot me?"
Back in Tampa, Dexter and Arthur return to the hotel after some hardware shopping (Art compliments Dex's shrewd purchase of plastic sheeting, har har har). Dexter feigns like he's sleepy, so Arthur takes off, first shaking Dex's hand and solemnly proclaiming them "kindred spirits." With Arthur gone, DVO hopes Arthur goes right to sleep, no surprises.