Linden and Holder barely even deal with Reddick this week, although he's around, and there's a bit of drama when Adrian's fosters show up complaining Sarah regressed him with her nonsense and visiting him at school. Of course, this fight leads to a clue -- Adrian never liked sleeping in his bed -- and to another fight, which is Sarah and Skinner rehashing the entire Seward case for the umpteenth time and also the possibility (get this) that maybe Sarah sometimes gets too close to the criminal cases she is investigating. A real barnstormer of a concept, that one.
The clue, however, goes all kinds of great places. First of all, the house is untouched these three years later because of the titular eminent domain: It's on land earmarked for Mayor Richmond's waterfront projects. I almost got tears in my eyes, thinking about how Darren's life must be these days, and wondering if he's doing okay. But it also yields actual forward movement: The closet in which Adrian would have been sleeping that night was his habitual place for doing so, in fact Ray decorated it for him, and it provided line of sight to the murder. So now she has lots of reasons to get to him again.
Ray is no help, but this is the least of Ray's worries today. First thing that happens is, he agrees to stand watch while Alton hangs himself. Once he got his family's forgiveness, it was just the last thing I guess. It's a fairly moving scene, because half the season built up these two guys loving each other, but also: Because it's a rehearsal.
Second thing is, Ray's dad -- who was the one that slipped him the razor, as it turns out, and was if you remember the one that gave him most of his scars -- comes by for a visit at Ray's request. Seems Alton dislodged more than a couple of Ray's immoveable cornerstones. The meeting does not go well because his dad's an incorrigible cockrot.
But in turn, this nightmare meeting gives Ray even more emo power to explode on Linden when she drops by to say in her Linden oblivion Hey, by the way, you didn't kill your wife. Sure hope I can prove it in twelve days! And by the way, can you get me a meeting with your son? His real parents are being total twats about letting me poke around inside his head more.
Angie, the Piper victim they found and kept alive, is now talking. Unfortunately she has no idea who Joe Mills is, which means Reddick and Skinner's obsession with nailing Joe Mills for this serial killing he clearly isn't doing -- and the fact that he is vanished altogether after being discovered with Kallie's phone last week -- turns into screaming at everybody unreasonably. And, you know, moderately reasonably when it comes down to Linden, who is all-time robotic and all-time demanding this week.
Which is partly fueled by her incredibly vicious and capricious meeting with Danette -- who came to her in good faith after finally figuring out that her daughter is actually and for-real in danger, but whom Sarah has not forgiven for reminding her of her own negligent mother. In the end she promises to help, of course, but it still sends Danette into a tailspin that has even Bullet worried, so she spends the day with the old nutsack and eventually comes home to a needy Lyric, who rewards her with a kiss and/or lezzing out. (Don't do it, Bullet! Those girls will ruin you!)
From what Angie says it's pretty clear that Pastor Mike is involved -- lots of talk of confession, salvation, and mystic vision for starters -- but it takes Team Linden an incredible amount of time (and gangsta philosophy, including a short digression on Copernicus v. Galileo) to figure that out. So as the episode is ending, and they're there looking for a suddenly vanished Angie, Holder finally puts together that possibly the Pastor isn't quite on the up-and-up.
Next Week: Bullet reaps the whirlwind probably, Danette continues to be helpful in no way, Ray is swiftly falling apart, hopefully we find out what Joe Mills has been up to, and it looks like they raid Beacon Home.
The Pied Piper victim we chased all over town was half-dead when we found her, but either way she's not Kallie, and Bullet's starting to lose faith. Linden's still trying to exonerate Seward for the murders, which isn't going great, although he's going through some pretty tough stuff on Death Row that could turn out beneficial... spiritually at least. Pastor Mike continues to be sketchy as hell. Kallie's mom Danette has figured out that Joe Mills was the last person to see her daughter -- a pornographer and client of child prostitutes, and all kinds of other things that were pretty obvious to everybody but her until the last possible second -- while Team Linden has started to piece together his rather baroque MO, which still seems like a separate sexual debacle, sure, but could also lead them to Kallie, who is at least still alive. (Plus it would make Bullet happy, so it's actually important on multiple levels.)
Due to being a total crackhead, it is difficult for Danette Leeds to immediately garner the respect necessary for the desk cop to give her his full attention. Especially when she speaks in traumatized, crazy half-sentences that we only understand because we were there: "He's got my daughter's cellphone and he's taken her somewhere Joe Mills, Joe Mills, you guys are looking for him I got a card, okay I got a card, the Detective she gave me a card and she told me to call her if I had anything..."
Desk: "Ma'am! Stop for a second, Jesus. Are you drunk or high or something?"
Danette: "Why, what do you take me for! I am just a ratchet looking person babbling in the middle of the night trying to show you scraps of paper. Call Sarah Linden."
Desk: "Ohhhhhh. Gotcha. One of those. Look, I'm trying to be nice? But my bullshit needs have already been met tonight. So you are gonna need to sit down, as instructed."
Danette: "Good one-liner! But I am too crazy for wordplay. I think instead of sitting down I am going to scream Sarah Linden over and over until you arrest me."
Desk: "Done. Dunzo. You got it."
Is the name of the veterinarian victim, the one with no finger. She is awake and talking. It is a study in the differences of law enforcement philosophy between our two leads.
Angie: "So he said, Get in back. The old Twitcheroo. And but then he didn't come back there, he just made me sit on plastic -- which I didn't notice immediately at the time, but probably should have -- and then started talking about how he was going to save me."