In some Mexican butcher shop, some employees ferry a dish of food to a back room, where a bodyguard accepts it and walks past Ray -- who has completely ruined his shirt hauling through at least one crate of guns -- to deliver it to Graciela Rivera at her desk. She tosses a heavy duffel bag at Ray's feet, and he asks if he's supposed to…seal the deal. "I don't know what you're talking about," Graciela says, tucking into her lunch. Maybe she's playing it cool because there are a few more guys present this time. But rather than leaving well enough alone, Ray protests, "Last time you were begging me for it and shit." This time, she hisses at him to get out. Who's begging for it now?
Cooper has dragged Wade back to Childress's place, despite supposedly having taken the day off. He found a crack in the concrete outside the house and summoned some construction guys, so he can make a dramatic reveal to Wade of what's underneath: a very dirty skeleton buried under the porch long ago. "Who the heck is this?" Wade wonders. Well, that's where Cooper's cleverness runs out.
Back at the station, Cooper informs everyone that the body belongs to a Kenneth Hasting, who disappeared in 2006. That was an eventful couple of years there. Apparently Hasting ran a Minuteman chapter that Cooper says "bumped up against Jack's operation." "Dueling racists," Wade says, adding, "That's charming." But Cross still isn't buying it. "This is a petty kill," she dismisses. "A rivalry. It's not our guy." Cooper angrily asks if he's saying Childress is innocent, which obviously Cross isn't. "Well, yeah, because when Deputy Stokes' brain matter spattered all over Marco's face, I was pretty damn sure you were there!" Cooper says.
Cross clarifies that she's saying Childress might have been set up for these other killings by David Tate. Wade joins Ruiz in being skeptical about that, so Cross points out that the Juarez report of Tate's supposed suicide doesn't include ID, prints, or a note. "It's sloppy." "That's Juarez," Ruiz says. "Sloppy." Cross argues that Tate could have faked his own death to plan all this. "Oh, I know you're shuttin' this down, Hank," Cooper says. Wade mutters to Cross that it's pretty far-fetched, and Cross mutters right back that Tate has a connection to three victims. Cooper snaps, "Oh, horseshit, Hank. I mean, I'm sorry, but there's gotta be a limit to how much we indulge our village idiot savant here." Oh, no he didn't. Hank gives Cooper a death-glare for that as Cross turns around slowly and walks away. Cooper looks for support to Ruiz, who just shakes his head. Yeah, you would have been better off not coming in today, Coop.