High school, huh? Must bring back some memories for you.
Friday nights, your friends from band,
strapping on those funny hats.
You know what? I am not gonna take the bait.
And then after practice, a little spin the bottle...
in some wood-paneled rec room.
Whatever you say.
Rigsby, what have we got?
Jack McTierney. 28. English teacher.
M.E. puts the time of death
between 6:00 and 9:00 last night.
Apparently he likes to stay late and go jogging
around the campus.
Cho's searching his locker now.
Looks like it's a blunt-force trauma to the head.
We have a murder weapon?
No, but the M.E. thinks it was metal.
When we got here, there were bats in the equipment bins.
We're testing them for blood now.
Did we contact the family?
Yeah, but they're all back east.
He's single, lives alone.
All right, start setting up interviews—
anybody who was here between 6:00 and 9:00 last night.
You got it.
Look at that bruising around the eye.
Mm. It's faded.
Looks like it's about a week old.
Be good to know how that happened.
Well, let's ask the principal.
That guy?
Cheap power suit, phone holster, Bluetooth, large watch.
Has "petty tyrant" written all over him.
Excuse me! Sir?
Hi. I'm Agent Lisbon. This is Patrick Jane.
We're with the CBI.
Principal Carl Snyder.
Thank you so much for coming so quickly.
Uh, did Mr. McTierney have any problems?
Trouble with a student? - No, I don't think so.
He was a great teacher.
doing so many things, but he loved teaching.
- We were lucky to have him. - Mm.
Now I have a grief counseling session
starting momentarily, so thank— - Excellent. We'll come.
Uh, how did he get the black eye?
He said that he... was playing basketball
with some students after school.
But you didn't believe him?
Well, why would he lie? Of course I believed him.
No, you didn't.
Well, why would I lie?
Probably just bureaucratic instinct.
Now if you suspected that the black eye story
was false, did you have any notion of the true story?
- No. - Hmm?
Like I said, he was very popular among everyone—
students and faculty alike.
Not everyone. I went through McTierney's locker.
Nothing unusual. But I found this in his briefcase.
Oh. This is very interesting.
I had the honor of working with Jack McTierney
for the past five years.
He was a good teacher,
and he will be missed.
Thank you, Mr. Loveland.
Now is there anyone else who would like to say something...
about Mr. McTierney?
We—well, I'd— I'd like to say something.
Mr. Jane,
this is a very sensitive moment.
Yeah, they're just teenagers. They'll get over it.
Good morning, everyone. I'm Patrick Jane.
I'm with the CBI.
I'm sorry for everyone's loss. Uh...
I know you were close to Mr. McTierney,
and I was hoping that one of you could tell me
who wrote this letter that we found.
"Dear Mr. McT..."
"I saw what you did, and I'm disgusted.
You are a total pig," exclamation point.
"I used to think you were special,
"but you're just a hypocrite like the rest of them.
I can't believe I ever thought you were cool."
"I hate you."
Who would write such a letter? Hmm?
Clearly someone who felt betrayed.
A sensitive soul who now feels deep remorse
for having spoken so harshly.
Someone seated right here in this room.
Yes.
You.
While everyone else was looking around
trying to figure out who wrote the letter,
you weren't.
You knew who wrote the letter,
because it was you.
Isn't that right?
I'm sorry.
Lisbon, you're on.
Wow.
Hey!
Hey, stop!
Drama, huh?
Anyone else have anything to say?
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
Why'd you write this letter, Rachel?
Mr. McT was my favorite teacher.
He always talked about self-respect.
He wanted us girls to value ourselves for our minds.
I-I mean, he was cool with us.
He didn't treat us like idiot kids.
Well, what changed?
Three nights ago, I was driving
to the Food Bank where I volunteer.
It's in kind of a sketchy neighborhood.
And I saw Mr. McTierney talking to, like...
a hooker.
And they were fighting.
Well, arguing.
And then she got into his car.
I mean... he's a teacher.
What did she look like?
Here. I took a picture.
Text me that picture
and the address that you saw her. Excuse me.
Cho, what's up?
Forensics finished up.
None of the school's bats show traces of blood.
And we found a baggie of homemade pills
in McTierney's car. Looks like M.D.M.A.--
Ecstasy.
Turns out our victim had a few secrets.
I've got a student here
who says she saw him
in an argument with a prostitute.
I'll forward you a picture of the hooker and the address.
You and Rigsby see if you can track her down.
Got it.
Jane?
Hey.
Hmm? Ecstasy.
Interesting.
No, you go on. I'm gonna stay here.
Bye.
I'm sorry. May I help you?
No. No help necessary. Uh, you are?
Ms. Austin. Uh, drama teacher.
Ah, I was just admiring your set.
Uh, what play are you doing? "Hamlet."
A modern interpretation, as you can see.
"To die, to sleep.
"To sleep, perchance to dream.
Ay, there's the rub."
That's right.
I'm, uh, worried... about Rachel.
She's in the play. She's really a good kid.
Oh, she'll be fine,
unless she murdered Mr. McT.
- What do you think? - No.
No. Uh... I can't imagine.
Hmm.
Well, if you'll excuse me, I have five minutes
to get bad coffee from the teachers' lounge.
Mmm. Enjoy.
Ow!
En garde.
Well, it's no fun if you just give up.
Are you one of the cops?
Cop-adjacent, maybe.
- Are you in the play? - Yeah, I am.
I'm Jeremiah. I play the ghost.
"I am thy father's spirit,
doomed for a certain term to walk the night."
- Sounds cool when you say it. - Ah, thank you.
I'm not sure I'm pulling it off.
I only auditioned to meet the girls.
How's that going for you?
Not good.
Well, Jeremiah, you seem like a fellow in the know.
Let me ask you this.
Where could I buy some drugs around here?
What?
Ecstasy, preferably.
I have no idea.
Wh-why would you ask?
Uh... I want to meet the bad kids.
You know, the kind that might sell drugs to a teacher.
Every school has them. Where do they hang out?
Um, I w—I wouldn't know where they hang out.
Mm, the bad kids keep real low profile.
Principal Snyder's kind of a hard-ass.
Hmm. You wouldn't know, huh?
Do you swear?
Yeah. I swear.
Well fought.
Off with you.
I know the due date's just an estimate,
but it—I mean, it could be today, right?
Yea—just promise me that you'll call or text.
You, too.
Sorry. Sarah's freaking out.
- How are you doing? - Yeah, good. Solid.
Definitely not about to have a heart attack.
Hey.
Hey, now, back it up. I'm just waiting on my laundry.
Laundry? In that outfit?
What are you, a fashion critic?
We're looking for this girl.
You seen her?
I don't know.
I lost my glasses.
Maybe if I had some money for a new pair.
Now I see.
That's like white Chenille.
Usually works over on Fremont.
Thanks. Thank you.
But she won't be out yet.
You know where she stays?
Come on, honey. We've been over this.
All right, everybody.
Pass last night's assignments forward.
Open up your books to chapter three.
Hmm.
Ooh.
Nice bathroom, Luis. Uh, very clean.
Sorry?
I was just saying, bathroom—
it's, uh, spotless.
Where are all the bad kids?
Bad kids? I-I don't know.
Okay. Yeah.
Nice chatting with you.
Hello?
Uh, wait!
Hello, Mr. Jane.
I'm sorry, if I'd have known you wanted to come down here,
I would have had Luis escort you.
Perhaps you can help me out.
I'm trying to find the delinquents.
Well, I... found one myself— or at least his shoes—
but he managed to get away.
I don't think they're gonna help you much.
Mr. McTierney taught mostly advanced classes.
Yes, but it's the bad apples that have the real dirt.
And where are they?
During class, the kids are... in class.
It's a revolutionary concept, I know.
Well. If you'll excuse me, that's lunch.
Speaking of which, I'm a little peckish.
Where's the cafeteria?
Yes?
Are you Chenille?
No. Who's Chenille?
I'm Rigsby. This is Cho. We're with CBI.
Look, we know you go by Chenille
and your real name's Lindy Hayes.
Seems like you got it all figured out.
What do you need me for?
You were with this man, Jack McTierney,
three nights ago?
Yeah, so what? I see him a lot.
So he was a regular of yours?
No. He was my English teacher.
What is this about?
Hey. Excuse me.
Can I borrow this?
You can have that back.
Excuse me.
I just need a moment of your time,
then you can get back to your lunch.
I'd like you all to raise your hands.
All of you.
It's official police business.
Raise them high.
Put your hand down if you're on the Dean's list.
Good.
Okay, good.
Now put your hand down if you're taking the S.A.T.s
or planning to take the S.A.T.s.
Okay then.
Put your hand down if you've never smoked...
a cigar—
never mind.
Carry on. Enjoy your meat loaf.
Come on!
You can take him!
Come here, cutie.
You can take him, dude! You can take him!
What was that?
Ahh!
Bad kids, at last!
Uhh! No need to run. Don't even think about it.
The place is surrounded.
Snipers on the rooftops.
Just kidding. Who's running the show here, you?
Or...
You.
What do you want?
I'm Patrick. What's your name?
Krista.
Krista. I come in peace.
So which of you crazy cats is gonna help me
solve McTierney's murder, huh?
- Not me, man. Not me. - Let's go.
Wow.
You really are bad.
What do you wanna know?
Well,
while the rest of the kids are stuck inside
sharpening their pencils, you're out here roaming free.
I bet you know way more about what's really going on, right?
Like who's selling the Ecstasy, for starters.
I wish I knew someone. That would—
that would definitely be a popular kid.
What about McTierney? Did he have any secret vices?
No. He—he was a square.
Super clean-cut.
Which is why it's so weird he was tight with Mr. Loveland,
'cause Loveland's a crazy drunk.
Loveland? The career counselor?
- Yeah. - Hmm.
See, a while back, um,
Loveland confiscated my friend's cell phone.
- Mm-hmm. - So my friend broke into his office
and found like a million of those little
vodka airplane bottles... Empty.
Well, thanks, Krista.
Very much.
You know, when you wake up tomorrow morning
and you look in the mirror, you will see yourself
as if for the very first time, and you will decide
to never smoke cigarettes again.
Thank—thanks.
How did you know Jack McTierney?
He was my teacher.
Like three years ago.
Before I dropped out of school.
Back then, he tried to help me
with this problem I was having with my stepfather.
What was the problem?
Take a wild guess.
If your stepfather was abusing you,
you can still have him prosecuted.
Whatever.
I ran away to the city. Problem solved.
But I guess Mr. McTierney felt guilty, or something.
'Cause ever since then, he's been trying to rescue me.
He freaked when I told him I was turning tricks.
What did he say?
You know, that I could still have a normal life.
Stuff like that.
Then afterward, he'd come to see me like once a week,
buy me a cup of coffee,
talk to me about getting my G.E.D.
But I didn't want to hear it.
So we fought.
We found drugs on McTierney. Ecstasy.
Couldn't have been his stuff.
He was a total straight arrow.
Was it yours?
Ecstasy?
That's for amateurs.
Do you know if he was having any problems at school?
I don't know.
I mean, he had a couple other projects like me.
I guess one of them could have gone wrong.
"Projects"?
You know... kids he was trying to help.
You got any names?
He tried to keep that stuff pretty private.
But I heard him... arguing on the phone with someone.
Martin.
Thanks. You've been very helpful.
L-let me know if I can do anything else.
I want to help... for Mr. McTierney.
If you want to help, you should do what he wanted.
Go back to school.
Mr. Loveland. You got a minute?
Of course.
Come in. Yeah. A-anything I can do to help.
Well, in that case, why did you punch Mr. McTierney?
How did you know that?
Oh. Well, I-I didn't,
but you just told me.
Also, drunk people aren't really known
for their impulse control.
Hey. Perfectly understandable.
You're working with overachieving children all day.
Who wouldn't want to take the edge off? Huh?
Look. I know what you must be thinking,
but I had eight years sober.
And... my wife left me,
and w-we got a new principal, and, well, I started thinking
that a drink might be a good idea, and...
about a month ago, I, uh... tested that theory.
Mmm. How'd that go?
Okay. For a while.
Then I started drinking before work,
and I realized that I was out of control.
You confided in McTierney.
I thought I could trust him. I was wrong.
He told the principal.
Yeah.
He screwed me—royally.
Doesn't seem like something McTierney would do.
I know. But when I asked Snyder for some time off,
he knew about the drinking.
He couldn't fire me for it, but he could make my life hell.
Okay.
Uh, wh-wh-where were you
when you, uh, uh, told McTierney you relapsed?
W-we were in the men's room.
Was there anyone else there?
You think I'd be talking about that kind of stuff
if there were? - No, of course not.
Thank you.
- I take it no baby yet. - No.
Got anything to distract me?
Well, we finally got into McTierney's computer
and looked at his calendar.
He had an advisory meeting scheduled with a kid
named Martin Klubock the night he died.
- Really? - Yeah, but it's weird.
Martin's an "A" student, and he has no history
of disciplinary action at school.
So why was he one of Mr. McTierney's projects?
Well... I looked into his attendance records.
He's been out sick a bunch of times this year.
And there was a trip to the emergency room—
a broken rib and some stitches.
You think it's some kind of abuse?
Could be, although his folks don't have a record.
Anyway, he called in sick to school today.
Yeah. Cho and I will check it out. Gladly.
That guilty creatures sitting in a play
have, by the— the cunning of the scene,
so struck to the soul
that presently...
they have proclaimed their malefactions,
their shortcomings.
Mind if I borrow some of this? Thank you.
For murder, though it have no tongue,
will speak with most... magnificent organ.
I'll have these players play something
like the murder of my father before mine uncle.
If he but blench...
I-I know my course.
Line?
Billy! We have been over this.
You should have been off book a week ago.
The spirit that I have seen may be a devil,
and the devil hath power to assume a pleasing shape,
and so on and so forth.
The play's the thing
wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
- That was amazing! - Well...
Are you an actor, Mr. Jane?
Well, I've... done a little stage work here and there.
Wow!
I hope you guys were paying attention.
Billy, did you hear the passion
and clarity of his delivery, the—the rhythm?
Yeah. I heard.
Okay. Everybody take five
while I try to find out what happened with the programs.
Well, maybe Mr. Jane could give us a few tips.
I'm sure Mr. Jane doesn't want to be bothered
with our little play.
Oh, it's no bother. Well, then...
a brilliant idea.
It's not every day we get a visit from a professional.
In that case, let's warm up with a simple enunciation exercise,
shall we? "Toy boat," ten times, fast.
Toy boat. Toy boat. Toy boat.
Toy boat. Toy boat.
Faster.
Toy boat. Toy boat. Jeremiah, you're not projecting.
Inhale from the bottom of your stomach,
not from the top of your throat.
Deep breaths.
Deep—
Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast—
more voice, more voice.
Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast!
Yes!
Bravo, Jeremiah!
You are good, Mr. Jane.
Any notes for Billy, our Hamlet?
Well, remember, Billy, never break character,
even if you forget your lines.
I mean, the audience will never know,
as long as you keep going.
Thank you. I have been telling him that.
And Hamlet's not as pleased with himself as you are,
so, uh, dial that back a touch.
As for you, Ms. Austin,
you have, uh...
something on your... coat.
Huh. A leaf.
There. All set.
Oh. Thank you, Mr. Jane.
You should come back tomorrow and see the play.
I'm sure all the kinks will be worked out by then.
Yeah. Break a leg.
Martin Klubock?
Uh, yes.
I'm Agent Rigsby. This is Agent Cho.
We're with CBI. Your parents home?
Uh, no.
No, they're at a sales convention in Tucson.
But they'll be back Saturday.
We need to talk to you about Mr. McTierney.
Yeah. Of course.
You got something burning?
Uh, no. No, it's fine. It's just some soup.
You had a meeting with Mr. McTierney last night
an hour before he died.
Uh, I was supposed to meet with him.
Uh, but I canceled.
I'm coming down with something.
Really, you got something burning. I should check it out.
- Uh, no, it's fine. - No, come on! Hey! Hey!
Hey!
What the hell are you doing?
Making Ecstasy.
Et voila.
Patrick Jane, please report
to the principal's office immediately.
I repeat, Patrick Jane, to the principal's office.
There he is. The principal will be in shortly.
What did you do?
Nothing.
11 years in Catholic school,
and I never got sent to the principal's office once.
Well, that's because you're a boring goody-two-shoes.
I didn't say I never did anything bad.
- I just never got caught. - Ahh. Touche.
It has come...
to my... attention
that Mr. Jane here
performed an act of vandalism
into the second floor boy's restroom.
A vicious, personal attack on me.
Jane?
It's true.
Sir, on behalf of the CBI, I apologize.
I appreciate that.
Mr. Jane?
Jane!
I'm sorry for the senseless act of graffiti.
That's all.
Very well.
I will send a bill to CBI
which will cover the cost of cleaning,
and I would ask that as we move forward
with this investigation,
it is conducted without Mr. Jane on site.
Are we agreed?
How'd you know it was me that graffiti'd the bathroom?
A student told me.
Well, that's strange, 'cause it was during class,
and there was no one else in the bathroom,
'cause I checked.
Well, somebody saw something, didn't they?
Mm.
You saw something—
on your unauthorized security cameras.
What?
He has unauthorized security cameras
hidden in the bathrooms.
It's a little creepy, huh?
I don't know where you are getting
your information, but it is simply not true!
Oh! Oh!
Hello!
Pervy perv perv!
Secret cameras? That is profoundly illegal.
No. Listen—
listen to me.
These cameras are for disciplinary purposes only.
Then why didn't you tell us?
Because, as you say,
strictly speaking, they are not 100% legal.
Mm-hmm. Principal Snyder,
if you're withholding evidence from this investigation,
we've got a serious problem.
And the P.T.A. And the A.C.L.U.
And all those other acronyms,
they're gonna have a host of problems with you, pal.
I wouldn't think of withholding evidence.
I'm not an idiot.
I looked through the footage the night of the murder,
and I don't think there is anything there.
Frankly, I don't care what you think.
I want all the footage now.
All right. I understand.
Agent Lisbon, could I ask that we...
keep this discreet?
No.
Martin...
you've been manufacturing Ecstasy,
a schedule I narcotic.
You're 16 years old.
You can be tried as an adult,
or you can be tried as a minor.
Believe me, you don't want to be tried as an adult.
You lied about meeting Mr. McTierney the night he died.
Okay. I met him.
And he confiscated your pills?
That's why we found the drugs on him, right?
Yeah. But he didn't know I was making them. I swear.
I told him I found the pills,
and he believed me.
What about your parents? They must have known
that there was a drug lab in their basement.
Uh, they had no idea about the drugs.
I told them it was for my science fair project.
Okay.
So why were you meeting Mr. McTierney?
I had been having some... trouble, and...
He was trying to help me.
Something to do with your, uh, trip to the emergency room?
Yeah.
Martin...
are you getting abused at home?
No. No way.
My parents aren't around enough to abuse me.
So you're getting bullied at school?
Not really.
I mean, kids can be morons, but... it's not that bad.
I went to high school.
They eat kids like you for breakfast.
That's what Mr. McTierney was helping you with, right?
Whatever.
He tried, but what was he gonna do?
He couldn't be there 24/7.
And what kind of wuss
needs a teacher to protect him, anyways?
It just made things worse.
So you decided to become a drug dealer.
I just wanted to be popular.
I thought if I became the cool drug guy,
then everything would be different.
I wasn't even gonna sell the "E,"
just give it away.
I know that's crazy, but...
I would do anything.
You know what?
I got my ass kicked in high school.
- Yeah, right. - No, seriously.
I was 5'4" till my senior year.
Then I grew a foot. Things change.
That would be so awesome.
Wait a second.
Hey. What's up?
Your—your what broke?
Oh! Oh, oh! Uh, yeah, yeah. Um, I'm on my way.
Uh, don't move!
Hey. Hey.
- Everything okay? - Yeah. Her water broke.
- That's a good thing, isn't it? - Yeah. It's, uh... it's happening.
- Can you tell Lisbon? - Yeah, I got you covered.
Thank you.
Good luck.
We've watched 60 hours worth of footage.
I think it's a dead end.
Patience, Grasshopper.
I am being patient.
There.
Back that up.
Okay.
Can you—can you grow that?
Can you—can you "bigify" it?
I can do a digital zoom.
Good.
- You know that kid? - It's Billy, our Hamlet.
Well, that's interesting.
That's—well, that's very interesting.
What's interesting?
I just talked to the D.A.
They're gonna go easy on Martin,
but they don't want to pursue Principal Snyder
on the illegal cameras— no upside.
Well, that's a shame. Let's get your jacket on.
- We have to go. - Where are we going?
Back to school.
Excellent. A full house. Make sure you get a good seat.
You're not coming with me?
Well, I-I just have to make a quick stop first.
Can I have my thespians stage left, please?
Time for our pre-show circle. Looking good.
Wonderful. Wonderful.
Five minutes.
Oh. Hello, Mr. Jane.
How's it going back here?
Great. Oh, Sarah.
Time to get to the light board.
Lexi, please tuck in that shirt.
I-I'm sorry, Mr. Jane. I have to go.
- It is absolute chaos. - Of course. Of course.
Jeremiah.
How are you feeling?
You look a little green around the gills.
Uh... I'm a little nervous.
Well, that's to be expected.
Why don't I give you a little breathing exercise
just to—to ground you? - Yeah, sure, anything.
- Belly to the lips. - Mm, mm, mm.
- Belly to the lips. Mm... - Mm...
Mm...
- Ah... Okay. - Duh, duh, duh!
Short, quick breaths.
Yeah. More.
Short and quick.
Okay... faster.
Now big, deep, long—
Lots of oxygen. Lots of oxygen.
Oh... oh.
There you go.
Look how calm you are now.
Yes, yes.
Um, there's someone sitting there.
Hi.
Oh, my God!
Should we call an ambulance?
No. No, no. I think I'm okay.
I-I don't know what happened.
You hyperventilated. Silly boy.
I think he'll be fine.
I don't know that he'll be able to perform tonight...
Ohh... But you do have an understudy, don't you?
We have one understudy, and he's already being used
because Laertes has mono.
This is just a disaster.
There's no way we can go on without a ghost.
Oh, we have to. We've worked so hard.
Can't we replace him? Jeremiah wasn't even that good.
Billy, don't say that.
Who could we possibly get to stand in for him?
I don't know. It's such an important role.
- Stay down. Stay down. - I know!
Oh, you could do it, Mr. Jane.
- You already know the lines, don't you? - Well, I-I-I—
- I couldn't possibly. - Oh, please!
- We're screwed if you don't. - Yeah, come on, dude!
What do you say, Ms. Austin?
I think... It's a brilliant idea.
Good job, Rachel.
Okay then. Well...
The show must go on.
Thank you. And you can stay in what you're wearing.
It's perfect. Uh—uh...
Two minutes!
Overture and beginners!
Stay down.
Have after. To what issue will this come?
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
Heaven will direct it.
Nay, let's follow him.
All right. Mr. Jane, Billy, scene five.
You are on.
Wither wilt thou lead me?
Speak. I'll go no further.
Mark me. I will.
My hour is almost come,
when I to sulphurous and tormenting flames
must render myself up.
- Alas, poor ghost. - Pity me not.
Lend thy serious hearing to what I shall unfold.
A tale of murder most foul.
The murder of Mr. McTierney!
Uh, uh, su-surely...
th-thou means the murder of my father, the king.
A murder born of lust in the woods
next to the baseball field.
N-nay! Thou means the woods in Denmark!
Right? A murder born of unnatural lust
between woman and boy.
Um... uh, line?
A murder committed by you with this baseball bat.
N-no!
- I-it wasn't me! - No?
It was her!
Whoa, whoa! Lisbon, we have a runner!
Whoa!
Whoa.
Wh-whoa.
Well, thank you. You've been a lovely audience.
Sorry we had to close... early,
but you get the general idea. Pretty much everyone dies—
poisoning, stabbing.
Yeah, it's all very sad. The Scandinavians, huh?
Gloomy bunch.
Oh, and by the way, uh,
don't do anything naughty in the bathrooms.
Principal Snyder has hidden cameras in there.
Illegal? Yes.
Immoral? You decide.
Good night.
We found the bat in your house.
Ms. Austin is probably blaming it all on you.
So help yourself out. Talk to me.
She's 35. You're 16.
That's statutory rape.
So tell me what happened.
It started last semester in her acting class.
She was, like, passionate about everything, you know?
Mm-hmm. It was exciting.
And... she told me I was talented
and asked me to audition for the play.
We started hooking up after rehearsals.
And then Mr. McTierney saw us when he was jogging that night.
He said he was gonna go to Principal Snyder.
He said she was gonna go to jail.
She asked me to go after him and stop him.
She just wanted to talk to him, she said,
to change his mind.
I-I followed him through the woods
and out onto the baseball field.
I begged him not to tell.
I didn't want her to get in trouble.
I know what I did to Mr. McTierney
is unforgivable,
and I wish to God I could undo it,
but you have to understand.
What Billy and I have is special.
It's real.
I'm not some pervert.
I love him, and he loves me.
Is... that wrong?
Yes.
Lindy, hi. What are you doing here?
I just wanted to say thank you
for figuring out what happened to Mr. McTierney.
Ohh... you're welcome.
And also...
I think I want to do what he said.
You know, get out of the life.
That's good, Lindy. I'm happy for you.
I feel stupid.
I don't know why I'm telling you.
It's just I don't really have anyone else to say it to
now that he's gone.
Well, I know a social worker.
I'll get you her number.
There's all sorts of programs and shelters.
She can help you.
Thank you.
Sure.
Hey, how did you know
Billy was having an affair with the teacher?
They both had leaves on them
from their make-out spot in the woods.
That's it?
Well, plus I could see she liked him.
She was meaner to him than the other kids.
You know, like Lisbon is to me.
Shut up!
See?
Oh, a text from Rigsby.
It's a boy. Benjamin.
He's so cute.
Yeah, if Winston Churchill was cute.
More like Mao Tse-tung.
Yeah. You're right.
Hush. He's gorgeous.
Yeah. He is gorgeous.
== sync, corrected by elderman ==