At the Cates house, Willard and Ty are conferencing. We miss the part where they discuss tail clipping season and lupine dentistry, but we get there just in time to hear Willard say, "And the next item: my daughter. I take it you've been to see her." Has he ever. Ty calmly notes that, technically, he and Ruby should be married right about now, funk-soul brother. "Circumstances have taken a considerable turn since I made that promise," Cates intones. Ty scoffs that their union wasn't to be about romance; Willard wants Ruby to have a protector, and Ty wants to climb up the food chain with a wife from the First Family. "You and I have always butted heads on practically everything...except for your taste in furniture," Ty smirks, fingering the wooden desk. "And women," Willard snorts pointedly. Ty's interest is piqued. He knows Cates is referring to something between Ty and Vivian. "You are a wise and fortunate man," he says smoothly. "Nobody will ever fill your shoes." Cates isn't stupid enough to think his side of the bed won't be filled eventually, and he says so. Tyler tries a new tack, arguing that Wolf Lake needs a leader who will not only urge the pack to do what's right, but will do whatever it takes. "I remember when I had that kind of clarity," Willard says. "I don't miss it at all." Tyler finally whips out the big gun, pointing out that Cates isn't long for this world. "The idea of marrying you is what made Ruby run in the first place," Willard argues, but Tyler begs for a chance to pitch her the idea of a political union. Willard is silent. "You won't regret your faith in me," Ty promises, his hair swept up into an enormous cowlick that sits on his head like a crown. Willard rubs the bridge of his nose and looks upset.
In the motel, Lou watches the video of the night Carolyn died. There's blood all over the wall, a trail of it on the carpet leading to the bathroom, and her corpse sits in bloody water. There's palm prints near the sink, smears on the walls and mirrors, and vomit in the toilet. Grimly, Lou flicks his switchblade and seizes this chance for a cheesy reenactment. He decides Carolyn was killed near the door, makes a slicing motion through the air with his knife -- such a necessary prop; perhaps he should've obtained a body, too -- and backs into the bathroom. Then he stands and stares at the tub, getting mental flashes of what it looked like That Fatal Night. He sees the prints everywhere. He deduces that the killer, hands coated in crimson fluid, dumped Carolyn in the tub and then rushed to the sink, studying his or her reflection in the mirror -- thus accounting for the palm prints. As Lou stares at himself, blood appears on the walls. He is in the moment. We're through the looking glass, here, people. "What are you thinking?" Lou barks, ostensibly at the killer but also at CBS. Then he recalls the prints on the toilet seat, and grimly tries to crack that mystery.