Jean says, "Do you know how many times I've told the police the same story?" Vasick says, "Well you haven't talked to me." Vasick proceeds to stir the shit by telling Bryan that Jean and Kimble used to be roommates, sneering all the while. They hustle him out the door.

And now, for a completely unrelated subplot. Gerard is interrogating his daughter's friend Julie. This plotline feels about as natural as a pair of vinyl pants -- what the hell does this have to do with anything? Shouldn't we be learning about Gerard from his actions that have, say, a direct bearing on the main storyline, not some completely contrived plot device? Did anyone on the staff ever take a screenwriting course or, say, read a good book? Argh! Anyways, blah blah blah interrogation-cakes. Turns out Julie and Alex went to a nightclub. Gerard tells her she's not in any trouble, but that she's obviously scared, "and that scares us," and they just want to know where their daughter is.

Later that day. Bryan walks out of a building. Vasick is waiting for him. Bryan tells him, "Look, I already told you Jean doesn't know where Kimble is." Vasick proceeds to sow more seeds of doubt by telling Bryan that there's nothing more appealing to a woman than a handsome guy in distress, especially a guy a woman's known in the past. Wow, someone dig Freud out of his grave and tell him a second-rate stock TV character has finally discovered what women want. Vasick also points out that harboring a fugitive has a sentence of one to three years. Vasick says, "You give me Kimble. No repercussions." Bryan walks away. Vasick threatens to get a search warrant and comb through Jean's house, and if one trace of Kimble is there, Jean's "going to the dollhouse." "The dollhouse?" Gosh, I hope it's the Malibu Barbie Dream one! That one has the keenest furniture. Bryan hesitates. Bryan is a whiny bitch.

Back to Gerard. Julie's crying. "There was a mosh pit. I told Alex not to go. But she wouldn't listen." A MOSH PIT? BWAH HA HA HA! For crying out loud, the last time I was in a mosh pit was 1990, and even then they were a dying breed. I think someone better toss their Doc Martens, flight jacket, and 1987 issue of Rolling Stone out the door and start finding some better sources for what's hip with the kids these days. Maybe some things never go out of style, but puh-leeze … this is almost as bad as the Dawson's Creek rave episode. Anyway, apparently a scaffold collapsed on Alex. Well, if you can't stand the mosh -- don't get in the fucking pit!