Dexter urgently walks up to a lab technician who's rocking out to her iPod, and asks her for a blood comparison. Her music's too loud, so he rips out her earbuds. "Hey, these two, tested against each other, right now." She's on it without a word. Hilarious.
Out in the hall, Dexter's calling Deb, but it goes straight to voicemail (her outgoing message is, "It's Deb. Do it," which I kind of love. Is that wrong? Didn't think so. Don't email me). Dex leaves her an urgent message, telling her to call back as soon as she can.
Deb and Rudy are in the cabin on the yacht, and Deb is commenting on how amazing it is. "I didn't know you went for stuff like this," she says. Rudy says she has a lot to learn about him, and boy, that's the truth, huh? He asks Deb if it was her phone heard ringing, and she says it was Dexter, but she let it go to voicemail. "Good," Rudy says as he brings two champagne flutes over to her. "I want you all to myself." They toast to "what comes next," and Deb notices that Rudy's not drinking. He was too busy popping a lozenge (!) into his mouth. He kisses her, and she says, "You taste like menthol, which, as it turns out, is not that sexy." She picks up the lozenge wrapper on the table as an orchestral rush in the score tells us that maybe a realization is dawning on her. "What's the matter?" asks Rudy, noticing the shift in her demeanor. "Nothing, just bad memories," she says. "Oh, that's right," Rudy says, embracing her from behind. "That was the one clue the Ice Truck Killer left behind, right?" "How'd you know that?" "I don't often make mistakes, but when I do, they haunt me." Okay, so I guess this is the beginning of the end. Jesus, I would be pissing myself. "Your champagne's getting warm," says Deb, now getting disturbed. Rudy says there's something he's been meaning to ask her: "How did you not know who I was? You're a cop." "This isn't funny," she says. "I think a real cop," Rudy continues, "would at least have a sense that she was in the presence of the person she was hunting." He begins strangling her, while rubbing in how easy it was for him to fool her, because she was "so desperate to fall in love." After about ten seconds of struggle and Deb's one last gasp of "Stop," he succeeds in cutting off enough oxygen to her brain to make her pass out.
Dexter checks his phone again, and he has no missed calls. Watched pot, dude. Well, it doesn't really matter whether you watch it or not: she ain't callin' back, homey. Masuka walks up, and he has the report on the ITK's latest victim. He explains that one arm was shorter than the other because the victim was an amputee. "He cut off the extra piece of wrist so that we wouldn't see the stump!" Dexter looks at the report. "That night Batista was stabbed?" Masuka continues. "He was following up on a lead he got from a one-handed call girl. Guess what the lead was about?" "The Ice Truck Killer?" "Booyah." I love Masuka. Dexter races down to the DNA lab.