Over at Vic's Diner, Paul presents the realtor with her check for breakfast: $280. "Be glad you didn't order the $800 pancakes," he cracks as he gives her a refill on her coffee. She laughs and invites him to sit down, which he does. "So you broker deals, you cook, and you install windows?" she asks. "You grow up with nothing, you learn to do a little bit of everything," he explains. Not sure how much of that is true, but it might help explain why Paul doesn't talk like a lawyer all the time. She's about to head out, but he continues the conversation, asking her where she learned the "pretty serious legal jargon" she was using earlier. She says she went to law school for a while. He asks why she stopped. "I had a kid, I got married," she shrugs. He says family's good. "Tell that to my ex," she says. So much backstory, so few words! I approve. He asks what's stopping her now. I don't know why he's keeping this up. Has he learned nothing from previous interactions with attractive, dark-haired lawyer protégés? That's kind of why he's in this situation the first place, after all. She says her life is simple: "Jake and his skateboard, and me and my cat." Paul suddenly has a blipvert flashback to the night Erin died, and her useless cat chilling on the sofa nearby. "Tip's included?" the realtor asks, but Paul's mind is already on other things as he hurries away from the table. Oh, come on, are you telling me he never tried Erin's pet's name? Because the only thing stupider than using your pet's name as an email password is not trying someone else's pet name first when you're trying to hack into their email.

But sure enough, in the back room, Paul whips out his Palm Pilot and enters the password "charlie." No go. Thank God. "charliecat" doesn't work either. But then he has the most detailed flashback ever, including a close-up on the cat's collar tag: "Charlie. If found please call 202-187-3827." Paul tries CharlieIfFound, which is the stupidest thing yet. Of course, it works. Email subject lines are instantly scrolling down the screen. He's in. He can't suppress an elated smile. But his excitement is short-lived, as an IM window pops up from ATHINKER2984: "Hi, Paul. Stay Lost or Your Family Dies." Downer. Whatever this shadowy conspiracy is up to, those capital letters make it clear that they're Pretty Damn Serious.