INT. BSU OFFICE - DAY
Inside one of the meeting rooms of the Behavioral Sciences Unit, FBI.
COLBY REMORA, 32, stands in front of the task force assigned to hunt down "Serial Killer Designate Eric".
COLBY
As you can see, the most conservative victim count is eighty-nine.
MURMURS sweep across the room. Colby lets it subside.
COLBY
Yes, he's already seventy-one ahead of Bundy and quickly approaching Henry Lee Lucas territory. All that, and we're pretty sure this guy's not even thirty yet.
He lets that sink in.
COLBY
Our unsub is smart. He varies his M.O.'s so widely, it's no wonder it's taken this long to pin it all on one guy.
A YOUNG AGENT raises his hand.
YOUNG AGENT
Isn't it true that a lot of our superiors think this guy doesn't exist? That this is just...
(looks uncomfortable)
...you know?
COLBY
...bullshit?
The young agent smiles sheepishly.
COLBY
Yes, but they're wrong. If any of you have any doubts when I'm through, I don't want you with me. Come up to me afterward and I'll get you off this task force.
Colby uses silence to press home his point. Most of them seem a little in awe of him, proof that his reputation has preceded him.
COLBY
What do we know about this 'Eric'? He's assassin-type, a power killer. He's doing it because it makes him feel powerful. He's got no signature. He's got no rituals. He's got no M.O.
He moves to the overhead projector and flips it on.
Immediately, the gruesome body of CAROL STENNINGS confronts them from the giant screen at the head of the room. She's naked, hanging from the shower rod, blood darkening her stomach from multiple stab wounds.
COLBY
Carol Anne Stennings. We think she was his fourth victim in Maryland.
The young agent raises his hand, Colby nods to him.
YOUNG AGENT
Why did he hang her up in the shower?
COLBY
Ideas?
He scans the room. Not a volunteering crowd. A grizzled VETERAN in the back raises his hand.
VETERAN
It made it easy to wash her off. Maybe he's got a fetish about cleaning his victims.
COLBY
Not a bad guess without knowing the details of his other killings. How about if I told you that this is the only victim who ended up in the shower or bath?
VETERAN
Then he did it so he could wash her off, make sure we couldn't get any of his DNA from her.
COLBY
Right. Only, we're pretty sure he took a shower too, while her body hung there.
(nervous stirring in the audience)
Creepy, I know. He washed her, he washed himself. We tried to get skin or hair fragments out of the drain, but it appears that he dumped industrial-strength cleaner down it so we couldn't get any useable DNA. The carpets in the house were vacuumed before our boys got there, and not by the vacuum in the house.
He pushes a button on the remote and the slide changes. COREY's face, bloated from strangulation looms large in full color. He's laying in a wooded area.
COLBY
Corey Aaron Markbright. His girlfriend reported him missing, but he wasn't found until the next day. He'd been strangled from behind, and dragged into the woods.
He starts flicking the button fast, and body after body goes by.
COLBY
I could show you more. Ask you to figure out the commonalities. You've all got the folder though. I'll tell you what they are and you can verify them yourself.
He turns off the slide projector and turns back to the room. His face is deadly grave.
COLBY
This is the serial killer we never wanted to meet. This is the guy we've been preparing for since John Douglas first started profiling at Quantico.
(beat)
First problem is, he's not crazy. He doesn't seem to have a psychosis that will draw him any attention. He's a geographically-transient thrill-killer who likes guns.
He shakes his head, trying to get across that it's a strange mix.
COLBY
He's extremely organized. As with most sociopaths, he's probably charming. Well-liked. Persuasive. You meet the guy, you're gonna want to be his friend. You're gonna shake his hand and never suspect that in his head he's already run through twenty ways to kill you and dispose of your body.
VETERAN
Begging your pardon--maybe I'm mistaking you here--but you sound like you admire the guy.
COLBY
I have a healthy respect for him, yes. This guy is a killing machine. He's not compelled to do it, he likes it.
(beat)
But he's starting to make mistakes. In Maryland he put a body in the back of a detective's car and forgot to use his gloves. His fingerprints don't show up in any database, but they match a keyboard in the house where two bodies were found that same night.
Colby smiles.
COLBY
So what do we have? Number one: His fingerprints. This guy gets picked up for anything and gets printed, we've got him.
(holds up two fingers)
Number two: The composite sketch from the detective who talked to this guy twice. One time right at the door of a house where our unsub was keeping the bodies of the owners. And according to the detective, this Eric never broke a sweat.
Colby's trying to make eye contact with each and every one to gauge their reaction.
COLBY
Number three: Putting that body in the detective's car was a statement. He's telling us that he's brazen, that he's so good that we have no hope of catching him. So we know he's arrogant and has issues with authority figures.
Colby begins packing up his things, very much like a teacher ending class.
COLBY
Take the rest of today and tonight and go over the file. It's a lot to absorb in twenty four hours, but I want to meet back here, same time, and discuss some ideas on how to catch this guy. He's out there. I'd stake my reputation on it.
(smiles)
I am staking my reputation on it.
He continues to pick up his things as the agents, TALKING QUIETLY among themselves, leave.
INT. MALL - DAY
Two floors of stores packed side by side, each hawking their wares through giant windows. Not very crowded.
ARIC (V.O.)
Self awareness.
A couple of high school kids are clustered on a bench outside of the food court. They LAUGH at some trivial thing.
ARIC (V.O.)
It's what separates us from every other animal on the planet. We humans think about our reason for existence. We know that someday each and every one of us is going to die.
JABAR, a beefy black security guard comes out of Taco Bell, soda in hand, newspaper under his arm. He's got the satisfied look of a man who has just eaten.
ARIC (V.O.)
Fact of the matter is, you won't catch Fido contemplating God's existence in between ball licks.
Jabar ducks down a side hallway and through a door marked PERSONNEL OF CARHILL STATION MALL ONLY. Inside is a corridor running the length of the mall, with access to the back doors of each store.
ARIC (V.O.)
But for all that, people spend too much time looking at the big picture and not enough time with the microscope dead on them.
Jabar exits the access corridor and is back in the mall. He's standing in front of the public restroom.
ARIC (V.O.)
Case in point: Jabar Dalton Woods. Security guard for this mall. He catches shoplifters and in general keeps the peace in this, America's great testament to capitalism.
Jabar dumps his soda in a trashcan, then checks his watch as he enters the bathroom.
ARIC (V.O.)
He works five days a week, Monday through Wednesday, then Friday and Saturday.
In the bathroom Jabar puts the paper on the counter, takes a hair pick out of his pocket and starts primping his hair.
ARIC (V.O.)
Every day he eats at the food court, finishing up with twenty minutes to spare before his break is over. Then he hits this bathroom and drops a load while he finishes reading the paper.
(beat)
I don't know how he stays so regular. He's not getting that kind of fiber from the food court, I can tell you that.
Jabar's done primping so he takes his paper to the last stall and locks himself in. He unbuckles, then sits down, shaking his paper out so he can read it.
SOMEONE ENTERS THE RESTROOM.
Jabar looks up out of instinct; not like he can see anything. The person comes toward the stalls, their footsteps echoing in the tiny restroom.
The man enters the stall next to Jabar. He can see his shoe from where he's sitting. The guy turns, his pants drop, and he sits down.
Jabar's clearly not happy about having to shit with someone else around. He tries to ignore it, focusing his attention back on his USA Today.
ARIC (V.O.)
Jabar doesn't realize he's stuck in a pattern. It makes him predictable. It makes him...easy.
Jabar SHOUTS in pain, looking down at his bare calf just in time to see a hand inject a syringe into him. The hand withdraws back under into the stall next to him.
JABAR
What the hell? Hey!
Jabar tosses his paper aside, pulls up his pants and starts buckling them.
ARIC (V.O.)
I injected him with a fluoride compound easily extracted from a common household insecticide.
Before Jabar can finish tightening his belt, he's hit with a tremendous SEIZURE. He falls to the ground, wedged between the side of the toilet. His body is trembling uncontrollably.
ARIC (V.O.)
The first symptoms are headaches, muscular spasm and seizure, followed shortly by various arrhythmias, shock and finally cardiac arrest.
Jabar's heading down that road. He's foaming at the mouth, still trembling slightly.
JABAR'S POV
ARIC BLUE has leaned over to look under the door into the stall. He sees that the poison has done its work.
RESUME
He stands up. He's Hispanic, handsome and young. He pulls off his black gloves and tucks them in a pocket. Using his back to push open the door, he exits.
IN THE MALL
Aric strides with purpose toward the exit. His eyes seem to take in everything.
ARIC (V.O.)
Jabar may have been working on the bigger picture, the long term, but it was the short term that killed him. And the patterns.
Aric's near the exit. He makes sure someone goes out right in front of him--they hold the door for him so he doesn't have to get his fingerprints on it.
ARIC
Thanks.
He's walking out when he spots something that stops him dead in his tracks. It's a newspaper box, but we can't see what's in it. Whatever it is stuns him.
He digs two quarters out of his pocket, and slides them into the box. He pulls the paper out revealing the front page.
The headline reads: FBI Hunts Mysterious Serial Killer "Eric". Below the headline is the profile sketch that Colby held up earlier, and it does bear a resemblance to Aric.
Aric is floored.
ARIC (V.O.)
Holy shit.
He tucks the paper under his arm and hurries to his car.
INT. ARIC'S - LATER
Aric sits at a table, the newspaper laid out in front of him. He's been sitting there for a while.
ARIC (V.O.)
I guess I knew it had to happen someday. I always thought I was too good, too careful...
He pries his eyes from the paper, staring off thoughtfully.
ARIC (V.O.)
Fight or flight. The two responses for every situation.
(looks back at the paper)
They've got a picture of me. They claim they have my fingerprints and an FBI profile.
(beat)
Flight doesn't seem like much of an option.
A grim smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Fight it is.
INT. KITCHEN
Aric's at the oven. He turns on the top burner and pulls a frying pan out of a cabinet, sets it on the fire.
He leaves it there while he goes to the refrigerator and pulls out a beer. He pops the top, downing half of it, then sits it on the counter next to the oven.
He closes his eyes, taking slow deep breaths, then puts his hand into the pan so the tips of his fingers are the only thing touching the hot metal.
The pain has to be intense, but through sheer force of will, he doesn't remove his hand. Light curls of smoke begin to waft up.
Aric grits his teeth. His eyes focus on the newspaper on the table, the small picture of Colby Remora in the corner of the article. It gives him an extra twenty seconds.
He pulls his hand away and eyes his handiwork. The tips of his fingers are pinkish from the severe burn, but no longer have fingerprints. They're now smooth.
ARIC (V.O.)
Having no fingerprints is just as incriminating if I get caught, but at this point I have no choice. This way I won't be leaving prints wherever I go. Wearing gloves 24-7 makes you conspicuous.
He takes another swig of beer, then puts his other hand to the hot metal.
ARIC (V.O.)
I guess I'm taking a trip to Quantico, Virginia.
CUT TO:
INT. DIRECTOR'S OFFICE - DAY
Colby peeks his head in. The DIRECTOR, thin and squinty-eyed, motions for him to sit down.
DIRECTOR
How you doing, Colby?
COLBY
Fine, sir. Yourself?
DIRECTOR
Yeah.
The newspaper with the FBI headline and sketch is on his desk. The director taps it.
DIRECTOR
Twenty words or less.
COLBY
There's a leak. I'll plug it.
DIRECTOR
You'd better. This isn't going to fly with me. We don't need any more negative publicity.
COLBY
It won't happen again, sir.
DIRECTOR
If this guy did exist, he's on his way to the Bahamas by now.
Colby says nothing. The director nods, buries himself in some papers at his desk.
DIRECTOR
Close the door on your way out.
Colby leaves.
INT. BSU OFFICE
Colby enters the room and the agents fall quiet. They can see he's pissed off. He takes the newspaper and pins it to the wall so everyone can see the front page.
COLBY
Everyone see that? Do you all know what that is?
A lot of blank looks.
COLBY
That is the last time the newspapers print a single word about this case. Whichever one of you mutherfuckers did it, that's in the past. It happens again, and I swear to God I'll put every one of you to a polygraph. I don't care how long you been here. Am I clear?
He takes a deep breath to calm himself as the agents shoot looks around, wondering who the stoolie is.
COLBY
Okay. So how are we going to catch this guy?
MANAMAN is a giant of a man, like a well-shaved Bigfoot. He raises his hand. Colby recognizes him.
COLBY
Manaman?
MANAMAN
We need to compile a database of unsolved crimes. See if we can pinpoint the cities this guy was in and when. You've done some of that, but there's got to be more. If we can figure out where he's been, we may be able to figure out where he's going.
COLBY
That's good. Anything else?
PUGSER is short and squat with the face of a bulldog.
PUGSER
Widda article, doncha think he's gonna go da ground?
COLBY
He might. Or he could run. He could keep on killing. Or, and the profile suggests this: He may come after me.
(reacting to the murmurs)
Imagine this guy's reaction when he sees his picture on the paper. This guy thinks he's untouchable. He's been killing with impunity. And now his game's got to change. He's going to feel threatened and according to the profile, this isn't a guy who backs down from confrontation.
MANAMAN
But you seriously think he'd target an FBI agent? If he thinks he's threatened now...
COLBY
I'm just saying it's a possibility. Ok, we're going to split up into teams. We've got a lot of information to collate, and I need a group who can liase with law enforcement in each quadrant. Manaman, you're with me.
EXT. TRUCK STOP - LATER
An SUV pulls to a stop around the side of the main diner. Aric steps out and looks around, but this Aric Blue is different than we've ever seen.
His head has been shaved bald. He's got a goatee now. If it wasn't for his trademark smirk, you probably wouldn't recognize him.
ARIC (V.O.)
Disguises were never my forte, but I think this will help.
At the passenger side, he reaches into his glove compartment. There's a half dozen prepaid cel phones still in their package. He grabs one.
He pulls a cap over his smooth head to conceal the baldness.
He walks into the DINER section. Typical truck stop. Booths line the window wall. A long counter faces the hole into the kitchen where the chef slides platters of finished food.
Aric takes a booth. SALLY, an older woman with attitude written all over her, comes over to take his order.
SALLY
What can I get you?
ARIC
Eggs over easy. Bacon and sausage. Some grits on the side.
SALLY
Toast?
ARIC
Sure. And orange juice.
She leaves. Aric unwraps the phone, and dials a long string of numbers.
ARIC
Hi. I need to speak with one of your agents in the Behavioral Sciences Unit. Colby Remora. It's Aric. Yes, he's expecting my call.
INTERCUT WITH COLBY
Colby's still in the room with the other agents. He's conferring over some papers with Manaman when the PHONE BUZZES from the front desk.
Colby gets it.
COLBY
Remora. Say again?
(raises his eyebrows)
Run a trace and record it. It's probably a joke. Transfer it to me in ten seconds.
Colby gets everyone to quiet down while he waits. The call is transferred.
ARIC
Hello?
COLBY
This is Colby Remora.
ARIC
How you doing? This is your front page man.
COLBY
Or the first of the loonies to claim he is.
ARIC
I'm the real thing, baby.
COLBY
Prove it.
ARIC
Well. How many you got me down for?
COLBY
I'm not going to give you any information until you prove to me you are who you say you are.
ARIC
Okay...toss out a name. If it's someone I did, I'll tell you how.
COLBY
Brooks Thompson.
ARIC
Nope.
COLBY
Redge Mahaffey.
ARIC
Nope.
COLBY
Carol Stennings.
ARIC
(laughs quietly)
Carol Anne Stennings. Twenty three years old. Worked at a flower shop in Baltimore, Maryland. I stabbed her eight times and hung her up in the shower.
Colby's shocked. He mouths the words "Holy Shit" to Manaman.
ARIC
How's that?
COLBY
(speechless for a moment)
Uh, fine.
ARIC
So...how many you got me down for?
COLBY
Ninety two.
ARIC
Oooh. Way off.
COLBY
What's your count?
ARIC
Two hundred thirty one.
Colby WHISTLES appreciatively, writes it down.
ARIC
Yeah, I'm not in Pedro Alonzo Lopez territory yet, but I'm workin' on it.
COLBY
He your idol? Him being Mexican too, you trying to be like him?
ARIC
You think I'm Mexican?
COLBY
It's what the witnesses have said.
ARIC
Goes to show.
COLBY
Hey, give me your fax number and I'll fax you the new composite sketch.
ARIC
(laughs)
Listen. I just called to tell you I'm on my way. Give me a couple of weeks to clear up what I'm working on, then you're priority number one.
COLBY
That right?
ARIC
That's right. Good luck on the trace.
He hangs up. Colby punches a new number.
COLBY
I need that trace ASAP. Bring a copy of the recording down here now.
He hangs up, and turns to address the waiting agents. He smiles.
COLBY
Well. I think the figment of my imagination just called.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. BSU OFFICE - LATER
The trashcan is full of empty styrofoam cups, testament to the amount of hours the crew is putting in.
COLBY
We couldn't narrow the trace down far enough. It was a cel phone, definitely Texas, but other than that we're screwed right now. Our techs are working on it.
MANAMAN
What do you think? Is he bullshitting, or is he gonna be stupid enough to come after you?
COLBY
Beats me. I'm of two minds. Number one: He wouldn't tell me what he's gonna do, so he's probably on the run. Number two: He's anticipated me thinking that, so he's on his way.
MANAMAN
So which?
COLBY
(shrugs)
My gut tells me he's running. He's got to know that coming here is suicide, and this guy is all about the hunt. I don't think he'd jeopardize that. He'll probably get off on the fact that he knows we're chasing him. It'll sweeten the game.
MANAMAN
The game?
COLBY
That's what it is to him. A game.
MANAMAN
So who do you think the leak is?
COLBY
The newspaper?
MANAMAN
Yeah.
COLBY
That was me.
MANAMAN
What?
COLBY
I wanted to shake his cage. Rattle him a little. I wish I could have seen his face when he first saw that newspaper.
MANAMAN
You think it'll work?
COLBY
It already has. He called, didn't he?
Manaman concedes the point with a smile.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. BSU OFFICE
Colby and his crew work on collating info. He's at a table pointing out something to one of his guys, who nods and marks it down.
Colby stands and watches as his guys continue working. Not revealing much.
INT. CAR - EVENING
Aric's in a different car now. He's blaring industrial MUSIC, tapping his hand on the steering wheel like he doesn't have a car in the world.
He drives away from the setting sun, passing a sign proclaiming: WELCOME TO TENNESSEE.
CUT TO:
INT. BSU OFFICE - DAY
Colby's dressed different--a new day. He's in front of a map pinned to the wall, with different-colored paths plotted out from Texas.
He's talking to the entire group now, and they're paying attention like their lives depended on it.
EXT. HOUSE - DAY
A two-story house in suburbia. A well-groomed garden bed in front. Could be anywhere in America.
Except Aric's watching this one from the car down the street. He casts a watchful eye around him, but always settles back on the house.
A small smile plays on his lips.
INT. COLBY'S HOUSE - NIGHT
The TV's on, Colby's seated on his couch, but he's not watching. He's lost in thought. He snaps out of it for a second, and reaches for the phone.
COLBY
(taps out a few numbers, waits)
Hey, Dee, how's it going?
DEANNA
Colby, hi. How you been?
COLBY
Good, good. How's Baltimore treating you?
DEANNA
Same as ever. How's being a Feeb?
COLBY
You know, nothing but chicks and money.
DEANNA
(laughs)
So, same old for you too, huh?
COLBY
Yeah, you know.
He laughs too, but it's not that genuine. Something else on his mind, but he's reluctant to say it.
DEANNA
So, to what do I owe this pleasure?
Colby takes a breath.
COLBY
Uh, listen. I'm on a new case, and this guy's trouble.
DEANNA
Yeah? You need some help or something?
Colby starts to laugh and tries to stop himself.
COLBY
No, I mean, it's not that. I just wanted to tell you to keep an eye out. He may look to hurt me, and you might be a way of doing it.
DEANNA
That's nice--you think this guy's gonna somehow find out we fucked and come after me?
COLBY
No, it's--
DEANNA
And because I'm a woman I'm all weak and helpless. Thanks for the call, but seriously: shove it.
COLBY
Dee--
DEANNA
Don't bother, Cole. I don't want to hear it, and we both know how this converations's going to go. Nice talking to you again.
COLBY
Dee, I'm only saying, stay extra alert.
DEANNA
Sure. He shows up, two to the head one to the chest. I'll call you to pick up the body.
COLBY
I'm not joking. This guy's bad, bad news.
DEANNA
Seriously. Worse than the Carver?
COLBY
Much.
She's silent for a minute.
DEANNA
Wow. Ok. I got it.
COLBY
Okay.
DEANNA
Take it easy, Cole. I'll talk to you.
COLBY
Yeah, all right. Bye.
He hangs up, but isn't happy. That didn't go the way he'd imagined it.
EXT. HOUSE - NIGHT
Aric's at the front door. He eases the screen door open with a gloved hand and inserts a key. He takes out a screwdriver.
ARIC (V.O.)
Witness the death of the common lock: The bump key. Seven keys that will open up ninety percent of the locks in the world in under ten seconds.
He taps the key with his screwdriver, twists the key but it doesn't open. He pulls the key out a little bit and again taps.
The key turns in the lock. He pulls the key out and gently opens the door, slips in like a shadow.
INT. HOUSE - NIGHT
Colby's in bed. Sleeping. His gun on the nightstand next to him.
INT. HOUSE - cONTINUOUS
Aric lets his eyes adjust to the darkness. He pulls his gun from the crook of his back and creeps through the hallway toward the stairwell.
He moves slowly up the stairs, taking his time so they don't creak.
INT. HOUSE - nIGHT
Colby rolls over, readjusts his position.
INT. HOUSE - conTINUOUS
Aric stands at one of two closed doors in the hallway. His gloved hand twists the doorknob and it opens.
He glances in and smiles.
ARIC (V.O.)
Hello, hello.
ARIC'S POV
A little girl sleeps peacefully on her back, a stuffed teddy propped next to her against the pillow.
Aric spares a glance toward the other closed door, then slips into the little girl's room.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. HOUSE - NIGHT
Aric's on his hands and knees in the garden. Barely illuminated by the glow of the street lights. He's filling in a hole.
When he's done he pats it down with gloved hands, then sits back on his knees, a satisfied smile on his face.
He stands, then slinks off into the darkness.
INT. BSU OFFICE - day
The agents are back at it--digging through mounds of information looking for crucial clues.
Colby's got his feet on the desk, reading through a folder when the PHONE RINGS.
COLBY
Remora. Yeah? Same protocol, then put it through.
The agents all stop talking as they see the look on Colby's face.
COLBY
This is Remora.
ARIC (o.S. - phone)
So am I on that most wanted list yet?
COLBY
Not yet. I think they're just starting to believe you're real.
ARIC (o.s. - phone)
Christ, who do I gotta kill to get on that thing?
Remora chuckles politely.
ARIC (o.s. - phone)
Anyway. I've read up about you. You're good. I can see that. The serial killer hunter. But you're not prepared for me. Do yourself a favor--walk away from this while you can.
COLBY
You think you can get to me?
ARIC (o.S. - PHONE)
I can get to anybody. Take your sister and her kid, for instance.
Colby gives Manaman a concerned look.
ARIC (O.S. - PHONE)
Genelle and little Suzanne. What happened to the husband? She still uses his name.
COLBY
Listen Eric, there's nothing to be gained from trying to threaten my family.
ARIC (o.S. - PHONE)
Trying?
(he chuckles)
That little redneck town she lives in...her little yellow rancher. Kinda sad. I almost feel sorry for them. Suzanne in particular. I mean, our children are the future, you know?
Colby's frantically motioning to his guys to get him a pen and paper.
ARIC (oO.S. - PHONE)
Colby. Do me a favor.
COLBY
What's that?
ARIC (O.S. - PHONE)
When you send forensics out there, tell them to look for some freshly-dug dirt in the front garden. Tell them to look there.
DIAL TONE.
Colby frantically hits numbers on the dial.
COLBY
This is Remora--I need PD in Putnam County Tennessee to respond to an emergency call at 2091 Franklin Avenue in Nashville. Have a uniform call me the second they get there.
He hangs up.
The agents look at Colby--for a moment he's shell-shocked.
COLBY
He's gone after my sister.
INT. SUV - highway
Aric's still grinning from the call. He looks in his rearview mirror--nobody there, and throws the cel phone out the window.
THE CEL PHONE
Hits, bounces, pieces flying off with every impact.
Aric's SUV speeds away.
EXT. House - daY
The house Aric was at the previous night. Police SIRENS blare as cruisers pull up out front. Cops and detectives fan out toward the house, guns held ready.
INT. BSU OFFICE - cONTINUOUS
Colby sits at his desk, his phone lying in front of him as he awaits word.
Helpless. A feeling he's not used to.
Int. House - conTINUOUS
The police BREAK OPEN the door and barge in, shouting "PUTNAM COUNTY POLICE!" -- they branch off to check all the rooms.
INT. BSU OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
Colby taps his desk impatiently. His PHONE RINGS, and he snatches it up and flips it open.
COLBY
Remora!
INTERCUT WITH HOUSE
A DETECTIVE stands at the front door with a cel phone to his ear.
Detective
Yeah, Colby, we're at your sister's house now. There's no sign of them, but there's no car here either.
COLBY
Any sign of a struggle?
DETECTIVE
Not that I can tell, but we've got forensics on their way.
Colby swallows.
COLBY
Listen--what's your name?
DETECTIVE
It's Bridge. Mike Bridge.
COLBY
Okay, Mike. I need you to go to the front garden and see if you see any fresh digging.
DETECTIVE
Okay...
He walks out the door and around front to the garden and immediately sees the spot.
DETECTIVE
Yeah, I see it.
COLBY
What's it look like?
DETECTIVE
About four feet long, two feet wide or so.
Colby takes his hand off the phone and puts it over his mouth. Doesn't want to think of the possibility. He picks up the phone.
COLBY
Listen, Mike. My niece lives in that house. I need you...I need you to dig there. She could still be alive.
Detective Bridge purses his lips, scratches his head as he regards the freshly dug dirt.
COLBY
I know this could put you in a bind. It's a crime scene. But she's six years old. Please, Mike.
Mike shakes his head--gonna regret this one--but he moves to the spot.
DetECTIVE
Hold on.
He starts digging with his hands gingerly, not sure what he'll find.
Colby stares at his desk with enough intensity to melt it. Waiting for the news. Dreading it.
Mike touches something, recoils for a moment. He digs a little selectively, brushing something away, then grasping at something.
He lifts it up, sets it aside. Digs some more, but doesn't spend much time.
DetECTIVE
Colby?
COLBY
Yes? I'm here.
DETECTIVE
She's not there.
COLBY
What?
DETECTIVE
Only thing here is a teddy bear.
COLBY
You're sure? Absolutely sure?
DETECTIVE
Yeah. Top soil was disturbed, but the actual hole's only big enough for the bear. Hey, wait a minute...I think this is them pulling up. Yeah, a woman and a little girl.
A minivan pulls into the driveway, Colby's sister and niece inside.
Colby slams his phone shut, races out the door where he almost runs into Manaman.
MANAMAN
Hey, what's up?
COLBY
They're okay--I gotta piss.
He rushes down the hall and into the bathroom as fast as he can. He moves into a stall and sits down on the seat.
Tries to compose himself. He looks at his shaking hands, can't control them. He runs them through his hair and tries to breathe.
INT. BSU OFFICE - LATER
Colby returns to an unusually quiet office. Everybody's eyes on him. He acts like he doesn't notice.
COLBY
Okay, what have we got?
Manaman comes over as the rest get back to business.
MANAMAN
You good?
COLBY
Yeah, we get anything from his call?
MANAMAN
Nothing worthwhile. What the hell was that all about? Why didn't he kill them?
COLBY
I think he wants me to feel...grateful to him. And the bitch of it is, I can't help it. He could have killed them and he didn't.
The PHONE RINGS and everyone goes silent.
COLBY
(to Manaman)
You have no idea how bad I do not want to answer that phone.
He goes over and picks it up.
COLBY
Remora.
ARIC
Talk about shooting fish in a barrel...too easy. But you should consider that a warning.
COLBY
A warning?
ARIC
Stop looking for me. If you don't, it's gonna be free game on all your loved ones. What're you gonna do, put them all in protective custody? Then I'll go after your ex-girlfriends--I'm sure there's a lot of those. Your old high school teacher, whatever it takes. How many am I going to have to kill in the name of this personal crusade of yours?
Colby SLAMS the phone down and points at it viciously.
COLBY
Fuck you.
(off Manaman's look)
I fuckin' hate this guy.