At the station, Angel is interviewing the wife of the victim he's working on, Mrs. Sota. "Mrs. Sota, I understand you wanting to protect your husband's reputation, but I also have to tell you that your cooperation could help us catch a serial killer." "I am cooperating," she says, and I don't buy it. "You haven't told me anything!" "Because there's nothing to tell!" Angel looks up and sees another member of the task force writing murder under his victim's name, and he looks annoyed at his own lack of progress.
Doakes is leaving the station, and LaGuerta asks if he's going to meet his buddy's friend from Curtis's unit. He is, indeed, at the Blue Wing Marina. LaGuerta wants to know if he's bringing backup. "Oh, yeah, all kinds of backup. Helicopters and shit." She tries to give him shit, but he stops her: "Listen, we've got a missing murder suspect. This guy's a friend of his. I'm just going to go talk to him." Fair enough, bro, do your thing. "Right," says LaGuerta skeptically as she watches him leave.
"You're the lone holdout," says Angel. "Every other suspect has a criminal past, and that's not just any criminal past. They were all linked to murder." "Oscar never murdered anybody," says Mrs. Sota. "Then why was he killed?" "I don't know, maybe he found out who the serial killer is!" Angel gets all sarcastic and says, "Oh, I see. He was an engineer and a secret crime fighter." Mrs. Sota's had enough, and takes off.
Down at the Blue Wing Marina, Doakes has found the boat he's looking for, the S.S. FUBAR, like ha ha. "Hello?" he says, and a man emerges from the quarters below deck. "You Doakes?" he says. "I am, and I'm guessing you're not going to tell me your name." "I'm Curtis Barnes." Doakes looks a little surprised. "I checked you out," Barnes continues. "We know a lot of the same people. Everyone says I can trust you." "You can trust me." "I just need forty-eight hours. I got somebody that's going to take me to Cuba, but it's gonna take a day to get the papers I need." "So, what are you asking?" "Stall the investigation." Doakes asks him if he killed his wife, and Barnes says yes. "Turn around," says Doakes, drawing his firearm, but Barnes has already drawn his, too. "You are not arresting me." Well, this is exciting. Except...not.
Lundy walks into the BHB room, and Deb asks him how his "social appointment" went. "Oh, you know." Actually, I don't think she does, that's why she's asking. Not caring, Deb says, "I took your advice." "My advice?" "To get out and have some fun? Got laid, big time." Ha! Okay, that's fucking funny. That's the Deb I've been missing: the same one who totally dorked out in front of the mirror last season while listening to Eric Carmen. Lundy probably doesn't love that Deb, because he just says, "Oh. Well." Embarrassed, Deb is all, "I mean, I don't usually just go to the gym and pick up strangers." "The gym!" says Lundy, and they both share a laugh. "Really, you have to save me, here, or I'm going to go outside and shoot myself." "Well, the way you're going, you'd probably miss. My date? Was horrible. I picked her up, and I don't know Miami, so I got us completely lost, and she was chattering away the whole time about some yogi master I just have to meet, so by the time we even got to the restaurant, I was tearing my hair out." So on, so forth. Lundy says the whole thing reminded him that he shouldn't be dating. "Of course you should be," says Deb, confused. "No, it comes down to simple mathematics. A really beautiful relationship is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and I've already had mine." Oh, I see. So now we have to care about your life, too? Jeez.