Upstairs, Dexter's fucking around with some blood spatter reenactments, and he's smashing a fake head with a snow-globe. "My work requires me to be an expert in analyzing patterns. Now a pattern keeps emerging from my past that's all too familiar. Harry lying to me. No wonder he destroyed the file on my mother's death. It wasn't to protect me, it was to bury his own guilt." Harsh, dude. "Look who I found," says Angel, bringing Lila into the room. Lila and Dexter look at each other for a second, not sure what to do or say. "Listen, when you're done with him, maybe you can come over to my place," Angel says, handing her a card. "It's a mess, and needs a woman's touch, yeah?" He starts to leave, but turns to Dex and puts his hand to his mouth in a Damn, Dude! She's Smoking Hot! What The Fuck? I Don't Even Care If You're Cheating On Rita, Cuz That Shit's Worth It expression. Dexter gets it, and gives him a nod. After Angel leaves, Dexter asks, "What'd you say to Angel?" She ignores him, totally into the blood spatter. "Dexter, these are amazing!" "Lila, you can't be in here." Ignoring him again, she asks him if he found out about the guys who killed his mom. "Dead or in prison, except for one," he responds. "He cut a deal, and now he lives in Naples, Florida and runs a tavern." "And what are you going to do about it?" Instead of using his words, Dexter slams the test head again, shooting blood all around. "Not sure, yet." She asks if he's not pissed that the guy got away with murder. "No," he says. "You sure?" Lila asks, pointing at the blood spatter. "Maybe a little." "Then go and tell him. Healing's all about focusing your rage on the person that's hurt you. Naples is, what, two hours away? We could go tonight!" ..."We"? Dexter agrees. "Pick you up after work?" she asks excitedly. "All right." "Can I have one of these?" she asks, about his blood spatter paper. "Sure." He walks over and rips her off one the papers. "What is this stuff?" she asks. "Corn syrup and dye. It's my own recipe." She takes a bit on her finger and licks it off seductively, and says, "Not bad." "Thank you." Thank you, indeed.
Down at Corral Cove, Deb trips on a loose deck board. "God, who doesn't fix something like that!" Lundy asks if she's okay, but she's obviously frustrated, no matter what she says. She starts to present a thesis, but Lundy's already on the dock, taking his shoes off. "How do you stand this Miami heat? Makes my toes swell up." "Oh...so...anyway, I was thinking, what if the killer's been renting a boat? I could cross-reference the names --" "Do you like cucumber sandwiches, Officer Morgan? It's all about the cream cheese." Deb is unrelenting in her pursuit of Lundy's approval, but he clearly has no interest in talking about the case right now as he digs into his cucumber sandwich. "Did you hear anything I just said?" asks Deb, noticing that Lundy's ignoring her. "Not one word. It's one o'clock. I always eat lunch at one o'clock. You'll learn that about me. Why don't you sit down?" Deb laughs all "yeah right." "You're welcome to consider that an order, if that helps." He's awesome, man. Deb saunters over and crouches next him, wearing a This Is Stupid face. "Shouldn't we be...I don't know, investigating the area?" "You're very fidgety, anyone ever tell you that?" "Yes, my father. You applying for the job?" Heh, okay, that's kind of funny. "Just an observation." "I'm sorry, are you criticizing me for wanting to do my job?" "Yes. It's one o'clock." After a pause, she says, "Look, the last time I was around boats, a killer was kidnapping me, which might explain why I'm living with my brother and snooping on my new boyfriend, so...forgive me for being a little fidgety, but if it's lunch we're talkin', I'm gonna eat a fat pork sandwich, and I'm sure as shit not gonna eat it here." She stands up to leave, and Lundy says, "Debra, this isn't a commercial marina. I haven't seen a single rental ID on any of these hulls. But I can see the upkeep on this place is dismal. Unsecure perimeter, poor lighting. Come out here at night, nobody'd know what the hell you're doing. That's why I'm going to order twenty-four-hour surveillance on this marina, and the two others. Soon as I finish my lunch." He tucks back into his cucumber sandwich, and Deb sits back down next to him, smiling. She even takes off her shoes and dips them in the water. Aw, does somebody have a new father figure? That's sweet.
Dexter's heading out of the office with a small grin on his mug, VO-ing, "I finished my spatter report, put in for a personal day, left word with Rita. Naples, here I come. I can't really focus my rage on the man who killed my mother, not with Lila along for the ride. But I can prepare for the day when I do." He steps into the elevator, and just as the doors are about to slam shut, a hand pries them back open. The hand belongs to Deb (shocker), who says, "Where are you off to so early?" "Um, gettin' out of town for the night. Don't wait up for me." "In the middle of the week?" "Thought I'd, you know, take the minivan out on the open road." "Who are you?" Dexter: "Good news is you've got the place to yourself, if you wanna tie up Gabriel again." "Yeah, that one never gets old. Call me when you get back, I wanna talk to you about Corral Cove." Now Dexter's the one to stop the elevator, because he wants to know what she's talking about. She says the algae led them there. "You might want to seriously consider moving your boat. The security out there sucks ass!" "That's kind of the point," he VOs, looking defeated. "This little green algae may as well be kryptonite. If it's ever traced back to me, I'll be helpless." He looks sad.