Over in a soup kitchen, the shapeshifter/former mugger is standing around looking lost enough that a woman named Helen approaches him and introduces herself. We learn that his name is Canaan. She asks if he has a place to stay, and he says he did, but it's gone now. He helps her with the box of supplies she's got and she says they'll find him a place to stay and in the meantime he should have some food.
He sits down at one of the tables and tears into his plate of stew like someone who hasn't eaten in days, at least until the guy sitting across from him tells him he's got something on his neck. He does -- a big ugly wound. Canaan puts his fingers to it, then dashes out of the soup kitchen, Helen calling after him.
Meanwhile, the agents are up to their knees in corpses in the church basement: eighteen bodies and nineteen heads, counts Lincoln Lee, who notes that a few months ago he'd have had a much harder time stomaching something like this. You know, on every new case Lee has to update us on how well he's handling things, doesn't he? Lincoln Bee admits it took him a while too, but not Fauxlivia: "Things like this never faze her. She's the tough one." Lee gazes beatifically at Fauxlivia, working in another corner of the room, while Bee talks about how in all their years working together, he's never once seen her barf or cry.
Speaking of Fauxlivia, she calls over for Lincoln and both men look, with Lee pointing at himself. Fauxlivia chuckles and says "Mine." Lincoln Bee ambles over to where Fauxlivia shows him a mattress. So someone was living here and whoever it was likely realized its lair was about to be compromised with the zone being reopened, which is why it left its last victim behind last night.
Meanwhile, Lee is examining a body that's more jelly than flesh at this point, its head the color and consistency of leftover cold turkey skin, eyes puckered shut. It's disgusting. Using a pen, he lifts up a locket from the neck -- and the chain cuts right through the neck, severing the head, which plops onto the floor mouth gaping open and I just might never sleep again. He notices a few holes in the roof of the mouth.
He brings the locket over to Fauxlivia, who pops it open to find a picture of a woman that they'll run through facial recognition. Then he asks if they'll be able to determine time of death with the remains in this condition. Fauxlivia says yes, provided there are certain active enzymes or lactic acid still in the tissue. She asks what he's thinking, and he says he'd like to see all the surveillance feeds from the areas around this zone.