In Juarez's busy, hopping bar district, a couple of local mini-skirted nightclub girls exit onto the street looking upset. One of them wanders into a graffiti-covered tunnel and is hailed by the bridge-watching man from earlier, who's offering her a bandana. "For your tears," he drawls. "Are you the one?" she asks, as though that was some code phrase, and he says he is. He opens the trunk of his Impala, possibly by some prearrangement whereby he was supposed to smuggle her across the border. However, since she's having some obvious second thoughts, he ends up all but pushing her inside -- but not before collecting the fuck-me shoes off of her feet and tossing them aside, which is odd because if she gets a chance to run, she'd be slower with them on.
Up on the bridge, the guys from the coroner's office have just attempted to pick up the body, but there's a complication; the border appears to have bisected her body not only figuratively but literally, as the paint on the pavement is now visible between the top of her pants, the bottom of her shirt, and the guts that spilled out between. Wow, there's dumping a body, and then there's staging one. Don't ask me how the perp not only unloaded both halves from his trunk and made them look so convincingly like a whole so quickly, let alone how he arranged this little illusion without getting gore all over the pavement.
At the hospital – presumably an American one -- Annabeth Gish rushes alongside the crash cart carrying her husband. Once he's in pre-op, we learn three things: her name is Charlotte, he had a near-death experience and he now wants a divorce. Maybe you should have told Charlotte that after the life-threatening surgery, Sparky.
Cross is behind the wheel of an old Ford pickup with a camper top, a dream catcher hanging from her rearview mirror. She's also on the phone, technically. See, her earbuds are the kind that have a tiny little microphone along one of the wires so you can easily switch between listening to music on your phone and using it to have a conversation. Cross is clearly a person who prefers the former, so whenever she's taking on the phone she's holding up this length of wire to her mouth, which may be the least cool-looking way to use a cell phone yet devised.
As for the party at the other end of the call, it's Lieutenant Hank Wade, who has apparently arrived at the police station in the middle of the night wearing a Western-cut suit and a cowboy hat. He's also played by Ted Levine, formerly Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs but more recently (and more relevantly, probably), Captain Stottlemeyer on Monk. Stottlemeyer's mustache and hairpiece weren't invited to this party, however. He's not that surprised by the Mexicans' lack of interest, saying that the FBI, Border Patrol, DEA, and ICE will all want in. "It's mine, Hank," Cross insists. "Right now it is," he agrees, and tries to assure her he'll cover for her despite being distracted by the Keurig in the break room he's just reached. "Lorraine Gates on the Bridge of the Americas, eh? I think somebody's trying to send a message." Really? You think? Seemed like a random mugging gone wrong to me, but you're the expert.