Jean says, "Get out of my house -- you're trespassing!" She threatens to call the cops. Vasick calls her bluff. Kimble, being either noble or a big dummy, is standing in the hallway, listening to all this. Vasick finds the dye bottle and stained gloves sitting on the bathroom counter. Wow, Kimble's not such a great houseguest if he can't take the THREE SECONDS to throw away his nasty-ass grooming products. Jean stutters, "That's mine." Vasick sneers, "No, it's not."
Kimble runs through the house, slamming doors rather loudly. He ends up in the garage and looks around frantically, just as Vasick shakes off Jean and opens the door to the garage. Oh no -- will Kimble EVER ESCAPE? Someone bring me a cool washcloth to soothe my suspense-tested head.
Close-up on the trunk of Jean's car. A black strap is hanging from it. Cut to its interior. Kimble's curled up like a fetus. Vasick spies the strap and takes aim with his snub-nosed pistol. Jean comes up behind him and bops him on the head. He falls to the floor and drops the gun. Instead of, say, picking up the gun, she kicks it two feet away from him, hops in the car, and gets the heck out of Dodge. Vasick tries to stop her but she peels out too quickly. She's in such a rush she almost collides head-on with a cop. His car runs into some garbage cans, and Jean comes to a stop. He gets out and tells her to put her hands on the wheel as the Strings of Suspense build. Cut to Kimble in the trunk. Cut to commercial. Whew! And I'm spent.
Overhead shot of Jean's car pulled by a tow truck. Close-up of the trunk. Cut to Kimble inside the trunk, looking thoroughly confused. Cut to the police station. Jean walks out, followed by Bryan. Breathless, he asks, "Do they know about Kimble?" Jean says, "Talk any louder and they will." Haw! Jean wants to get to the impound lot. Bryan snipes at her that if Kimble had left her house when he was supposed to, none of this would've happened. They fight. Jean finds out that Bryan ratted Kimble out. Bryan implies that Jean slept with Kimble. Frankly, if my choice were Bryan, I'd sleep with the first carbon-based life form that crossed my path, fugitive or not. Jean tells Bryan to go to hell. Me and Smokey Robinson both second that emotion.
Back to Gerard and Sara's Completely Pointless Small Adventure. They go to a hospital and ask about the girl who was taken there for treatment from Club 312. The doctor tells them that she died and was taken downstairs twenty minutes ago. Gerard whispers, "No." Unlike the rest of us, Gerard's olfactory sense is impaired and can't smell this O. Henry plot twist flashing its high beams from twenty thousand yards away. Grim-faced, he turns away. The doctor offers to show Sara the girl's photo. Sara says brokenly, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let Alex go -- I should've stopped her." Um, don't apologize, hon; Gerard's sorry self hasn't exactly done a Dr. Spock-grade job of parenting here, either.