Previously on "Shut Eye"...
I had a vision of burning flesh, and guess what?
A woman burned.
I want Big Pharma! Pills!
The kind that will turn this shit off.
We found Emma's phone.
It died on a bus in Bakersfield.
No one's heard from her after that.
I'd give my left nut,
I never have to fry another guy in oil,
and those are my oldest friends.
They'd buy tickets to watch that happen.
I can't wait to get married.
Don't look at your husband for a year.
Sounds fucking wonderful.
How much for you, Drina?
Do you see a "for sale" sign?
You want to start a war over a blow-job joke?!
She's afraid.
She thinks it's some kind of eye-for-an-eye shit.
I can assure you, nothing could be further from the truth.
Miles' spirit is stuck
between the worlds of the living and the dead.
I am holding onto something big.
It's here in the house.
Is there any way you'd be willing to show it to me?
Nadine's ready.
She's got the money.
Really?
Really.
- $1.77 million. - $1.77 million.
Oh, my God.
And now... for the burning ceremony.
Burning ceremony?
Okay.
We place the money here in the box...
we make a little distraction,
I hand Nadine's money to my lovely assistant.
Voilà.
We burn the funny money.
You're a fucking genius.
I'm just an out-of-work magician.
I love you, Charlie.
I love you, too.
What the fuck?
Who threw these out?
What?
Are we lining our trash cans with these now?
Nick.
- I'm back, bitches. - Sylvia.
New and improved.
Black widow?
It's a butterfly.
So, I just need a place to crash for a few nights.
I got a cruise-ship job that starts in like five days.
It's a written offer? It's firm?
I got a very strong verbal.
What the fuck are you doing here?
Nice to see you, too.
Okay, five days max, just you, no guests.
It was a free ride.
You're welcome, Duane!
We have neighbors.
So, how's the business? Falling all to shit without me?
Ahh.
"What an incredible psychic experience I had with Gaya
in Sunland this morning.
She was kind, gentle, and articulate."
What are we... PBS?
"She was kind, gentle, saw right into my soul."
Something in that price range.
I'm seeing a box of old photos...
photos you haven't put into albums yet.
I'm getting an image.
Work with me here, Doug.
I sense something coming...
We have a warrant to search the premises.
Over my dead, cold ass.
Lovely image.
Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com
Ms. Marks.
We have reason to believe there are untaxed proceeds
from racketeering, elder abuse, and fraud on the premises.
We're going to have to search the home.
Girls, take your breakfast out on the patio.
Parker, go with the kids.
We're going to be as respectful as possible, ma'am.
Dunbar, stay with Ms. Marks.
- Yes, ma'am. - Let's go.
All right, guys, spread out!
Put on your gloves!
Every room, every drawer!
Jesus, you'd think we were taking a dump in the drawers.
Listen, Roma have special rules, all right?
They think we're dirty, so every time we touch their stuff,
they consider it defilement.
It's called marimé, and in their world,
it can have serious repercussions.
Would this be marimé, then?
No, that right there,
it's called a career-ending move, asshole.
Yeah?
We are collecting for the Cucamonga Little League.
Look, guys, I donate to charities through the office,
not my front door.
- God bless you. - Yeah.
If she tells him about the money, it's over.
Yeah, here's another problem.
Even if she doesn't tell him,
the MP3 player Ted put up in the attic.
If Nadine's husband hears that, there's gonna be questions...
maybe even from the police.
What time is it set to go off?
12:07 A. M. We got to call Ted.
You know what a gypsy would say?
Bad luck... Someone's trying to tell us something.
We're not gypsies.
We got Casa Vega...
crispy tacos with extra guac
and a couple of those special quesadillas.
I'm not coming inside until the marimé is gone.
It's an old wives' tale, honey. Please...
All right.
Cops are finished in the garage.
Go back to your stations.
No more drabarimos.
You're right.
We'll pick this up tomorrow.
Give me a break.
Marimé.
No one gets a break.
Let's go.
Fuck you.
Fuck all of you.
I'll have a new crew here tomorrow...
ladies not living in the fucking dark ages.
This doesn't come from nowhere.
Mr. Marks.
Happy housecleaning.
- Who sent this? - Uh, there's no name.
It... the card just says "Happy housecleaning."
Fucking White Tony tipped them off.
- Send it back. - Uh...
- Send it back. - Excuse me?
Send it back.
I'm gonna call the Krisari.
We need to convene a kris before the poison spreads.
A council?
You can't solve everything with a council.
What's next? A caravan and a goat?
Not everybody's so enlightened as you are.
Our readers, for better or for worse,
respect our tradition, even if you don't.
We need to get this marimé cleaned
before all of them walk out on us.
I went back to check on the rig...
Nadine's roof, San Marino moss.
I fell from two floors up.
Torn cartilage.
Doctor says Ted's range of motion
is seriously fucked.
I can't drive. I can't shower.
It's a serious disability.
Draw a diagram of the attic
and show me exactly where the MP3 player is.
I got into the attic from a window on the roof.
There's a, uh, drainpipe in the backyard
you can shimmy your way up.
Is the alarm code still her, uh, husband's birthday?
Nah. It changed after the rooster incident,
but Tedster bypassed the system.
Did he?
I left a branch in the attic window
when I planted the recorder.
Prop it back once you go inside.
As long as the window's propped, the alarm's offline.
That window closes, and the alarm's back online
till someone shuts it off.
I thought the husband wasn't supposed to be back
for another couple weeks.
Sometimes, when you got something on the side and it all falls apart,
there's nowhere to go but home.
Time to Uber on out of here, Ted,
and, uh, keep that elevated.
You know, a regular job,
the insurance would cover an ankle MRI.
Name one regular job you have ever had.
Point.
Fuck.
When was the last time you took a yoga class?
Are you kidding me?
Why don't you go do a walk-in,
do some militant positive thinking,
some deep breathing?
Open yourself up to the good of the universe.
It couldn't hurt.
Are you sure?
The player starts crying at 12:07.
As long as my finger is on the off button by 12:06,
everything's fine.
Motherfucker.
That's the third parlor this morning.
Fucker's poaching my people.
Who you calling?
My most valued asset.
Charlie's not walking out.
He doesn't give a shit about marimé.
Eh, he's got other weaknesses...
angry sister, ambitious wife.
White Tony might leverage that.
Come on.
What the fuck is he doing that's so important?
Turn around. Let's go.
I'm busting my knuckles. What are you... deaf?
What? What?
Exactly.
White Tony been here?
White Tony?
Yeah. Been poaching my readers.
I haven't seen him.
- You sure? - Yeah.
Terry's gonna stay with you a while,
make sure Tony doesn't try anything.
Uh, I can take care of myself. I got a business to run.
Guy can sleep anywhere... chair, couch, table, desk.
You won't even know he's here.
And lock your locks.
Christ knows who comes in.
Where's your remote?
Hey. What do you have there?
Coffee filters, paper towels, real food.
You hungry?
Starving.
Good. Me, too.
So, what's with the outfit?
Charlie told me to take a yoga class.
- Ah. - Mm-hmm.
So, you taking care of me now?
Kind of looks like it.
It's fucking fraud. You have to make your own rub.
BBQ's about the rub.
You know, I have a DVD player in the bedroom.
You could lay down and watch a movie in there.
I don't watch movies, just reality TV.
I used to watch the other shit...
you know, the "dead whore in a Dumpster" shows.
I'll tell you what... Everyone always goes on and on
about violence on television, violence on television.
Violence is not the problem.
The problem is the fucking sitcoms.
I mean, they tell people
that everything in life works out.
And what that is... it's a fucking lie.
...About six, seven hours. Check it...
- What the fuck? - What the fuck?
She was supposed to leave town.
And she did, and she will again.
Sylv, can I talk to you for a second?
Give me us a minute,
and tell me if rub-in-a-bottle-boy wins.
- What the fuck is going on? - I need a big favor.
- Fonso has Terry watching me. - Watching you?
- What are you talking about? - I can't explain it right now.
Point is, I need to get out of here.
Like, right now. Right now.
Will Fonso be pissed if he loses you?
Probably a little, but fuck him.
That's what I'm saying.
Come on!
We got the iron maiden up to 250 degrees.
I think we can cook it...
- ...at about... - Charlie?
No, he's in the living room.
Put that away. He's coming.
There's nobody in there.
Then who are you talking to?
Nobody. I was rehearsing for a cruise-ship show.
You're an actress... with a face like that?
You're one to talk.
Rita do your makeup, too?
Someday, you'll have to tell me about it.
Maybe I could do something with it.
Not a butterfly, but maybe an angel.
Fuck. Open the door.
Is the lock not turning on your side?
We've been having some troubles with it.
- You lock the other door? - Yeah.
You won't be able to keep him in there for long.
This is chess, not checkers.
This is my first move.
- Open the... open the door. - Huh.
Hey, gonna let me in on this?
No.
- Maybe... no, no. - Please open the door.
- Good luck, and thanks. - Open the door!
Open the goddamn door... now.
Hey, man, I am so sorry.
I'm gonna have to look for the other key.
Hold tight.
Shit.
You don't return my calls?
Eduardo, I'm in the middle of something.
Tomorrow, I'm all yours.
Tomorrow's not gonna work.
I hate to say this to you,
but you're not my only client with emergencies.
- Half-hour is all I need. - I can't.
It's a life-or-death situation.
Half an hour is all I can spare.
Drop-dead time, I'll follow you.
Yeah, sure. Drop-dead time.
Manny the doughnut boy
did not decide to shoot the boss on his own.
He was sent... hired by one of my friends.
So, tell me.
Which one of these pricks wants to kill me?
They all want to kill you.
Give me the gun.
You don't have to do my dirty work.
The gun.
What I'm seeing is a failure to connect.
Where did you first meet Eduardo?
- What? - Where!
Sixth grade.
We were the lookout for the ice-cream-truck drug dealer.
We were paid in, like, Klondike bars and shit.
Were you two close?
Yeah, man. He dated my sister.
Where?
Van Nuys Juvie.
We got put in a holding area
with three crazy girls who just held up a liquor store.
We were dead scared of them bitches.
Were you scared of Eduardo?
No, not then.
He called my mom, told her not to worry.
Where?
High school Christmas party.
Uh, everyone had to get a gift...
blind kind of thing, cheap shit.
Uh, Eduardo drew me.
He gave me a cat.
A cat...
He needed a home.
Friendship Eduardo.
Friendship and families... the only real things in life.
And good business relationships are like families.
They require care.
That's what it's all about.
Now, I know it's not easy.
The people you love the most hurt you the most,
but old friendships, they don't grow on trees.
They are life's sweetest gifts.
Corny...
But true.
I can get, well...
short-sighted sometimes.
You've opened my eyes.
Me too, man.
I can get all fucked up about things.
You and your big business plans,
sometimes I just don't see it.
I knew you'd expose the Judas.
He's our angel. Am I right?
Yeah.
Saint fucking Charlie.
I had a dream about us last night.
You were a pilot.
I was a field medic.
We were, like, search and rescue,
and we flew to the top of this snowy mountain
and we find this guy
but he's badly hurt... like, plane crash or something.
Anyway, we get there, and his leg is so fucked up.
Like, it needs to be amputated.
Sounds bad.
What you say to him?
I told him the leg had to come off.
That sometimes you have to make a sacrifice to stay alive.
Let me guess. He looked like Charlie.
I'm done with sacrifices.
San Marino thing's about to pay,
and after that, I'm making some changes.
What kind of changes?
Well, the fucking gypsies, for one.
When we get this money,
it's gonna be "Fuck you, Fonso," and "Fuck you, Rita."
I love my husband and I love my son,
and I want you, too.
And I'm gonna figure out a way to make that happen.
Permanently?
I want to have my cake and eat it, too.
No.
Don't touch me.
I'm sorry, but...?
Yes. That's Emma.
That's my little girl.
Jesus.
The fuck are you doing here?
Uh, he's a present from Fonso.
Present for who?
For all of us, I guess.
I'm supposed to keep an eye.
Is Charlie with you?
Rita's table farted out again.
Nick's down the fucking hallway.
Are we done?
Nearly done.
Close the door, will you?
Fuck.
Miles? Miles, it's Mommy.
Is that you, baby?
They touched my mother's underwear.
Let me say that again.
Her underwear.
Gadje... police gadje...
put their filthy hands on my mother's panties.
And this asshole sent them.
This asshole sent them an anonymous call...
an anonymous call.
- Fuck you! - Fuck you.
- You're in my fucking house! - Fuck you.
Hey.
Fonso, sit the fuck down.
A murderer?
These are serious accusations.
I haven't seen my cousin Lou in days.
The last time was at that cultural event with Fonso Marks
in a bathroom.
But I came to make peace!
I've... I came here to make peace, not war.
We can't undo the damage
that Fonso has done to our Roma community
with his reckless behavior,
but perhaps...
a modest reparation can help with the healing.
Namely, I want four of Fonso's parlors...
preferably not in Tarzana.
And I also demand to be given the gadjo...
Charlie Haverford, his former magician...
for the use in my humble operation,
White T Incorporated.
Now, I swear to Sara e Kali
that my words are true
and I will abide by whatever decision the council makes.
Cousin Lou was dear to me, too.
We grew up together.
We worked driveways together.
We went to Fresno for cars together.
Fresno.
To allege that I would harm Cousin Lou in any way
is an accusation that reflects not on my crimes,
but White Tony's ambition.
He sent the police to our home
knowing that we would be made unclean,
knowing that we would ask for a kris,
and knowing that he'd use this council
for his own profit and greed.
And here we are.
Now, I invite you all, look into my eyes, eh?
Search my face.
Is this the house of a murderer and cheat?
Please, Josip, rid us of this marimé
so we may can continue to do business.
I swear on St. Sarah that my words are true,
and I will abide by whatever the council decides.
These allegations... murder, a police raid...
these are serious charges,
but, to my eye, unsupported by the evidence.
Yet I know from where the poison springs.
And this is a poison that must be restrained
lest it be cast out entirely.
To this end, I decree that you, Fonso Marks,
will give White Tony two of you parlors,
taking into account that, for whatever reason,
he doesn't like Tarzana,
and make an honest gift of the gadjo...
this Charlie person.
- You... - Fonso, Fonso, Fonso.
Let all that was unclean be clean again,
and let all our people be assured
they can return to work with either family.
They will be one. These families will be joined.
A marriage between Fonso's eldest, Drina,
and White Tony's son, Little Tony.
Let the peace begin.
Last night, I felt Miles' presence,
like he was lost, waiting.
I heard him last night.
Just once, then he was gone.
We felt the same thing.
We do this, what happens to me?
You'll be set free, too.
Isn't that what you want?
I don't know.
I just know I want to be with him.
This is perfect.
Yeah. I thought he would like it.
Okay.
1,770, 000 goodbyes.
The baseball?
I think... I think we need to get rid of everything.
Oh. Um, I... It's a great idea.
Ready?
Miles, it's time to leave.
Your mom is letting go of you.
Now you need to let go of her.
It's done.
There's nothing holding him here now.
I need to thank you.
No, no. I should thank you.
This has meant a lot to me.
And he'll be waiting for me.
When it's time.
You're the only friend I have.
You're the first person that's ever understood.
And now there are two people I have to let go of.
I guess this is goodbye.
It might be easier if you... you just went inside,
and then I'll take care of this,
then I'll... I'll let myself out.
I'll get you a towel.
Come... Come inside.
I'll get... I'll get you some warm clothes.
What's that?
That's your money.
My money?
Why...?
The tree, the rooster... I did that.
The baseball, too.
I hired some kids to throw it through the window
during your séance.
You need to take your money back, Nadine.
Put it in a safe-deposit box,
and never talk to people like me again.
You need a therapist,
someone who can help you with your loss.
I'm not your friend.
I never was.
What happened?
I went for a swim.
A celebratory splash?
Where's the money?
I, uh... I left it.
It's over... the whole con.
I told her the truth.
You what?
It was gonna kill her.
I'm sorry.
Yeah, I believe you are.
Okay.
Wow. Charlatan, visionary, now stalker...
You, the shit you talk, the saints and angels.
You have fucked up everything in my life!
Okay.
Listen, remember what I said to you, Charlie...
This is about acceptance, not denial.
I had something going. I did. It was good.
I stood to make a lot of money for my family,
for us to get out,
to start over.
Okay, okay. What happened?
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
Breathe.
I saw this woman,
and I saw what it was going to do to her, and...
So you... you had a crisis of conscience.
- It's okay. - Something like that.
Okay.
So, how did that feel to do the right thing?
Fucking awful!
Okay.
But this is a part of it. It's the pain of rebirth.
You know, fuck that cosmic bullshit.
It cost me a fortune.
It may have cost me my wife,
and it certainly is going to get me killed.
You are becoming a new man.
No, I'm not.
And I promise you this.
The next time I feel the urge to do the right thing,
I'm gonna kill it by any means necessary.
You can't make me marry that little creep.
You don't even know him.
Yeah, exactly.
I didn't know your grandfather when I married him,
and I liked him.
You do what we tell you.
That's the way it works.
Go tell your sister
she doesn't have to sleep in the tent anymore.
She's better off out there.
If she comes inside,
you might sell her to the nearest child molester.
God damn it!
Are we celebrating?
Charlie blew the con.
What?
He fucked up.
All this time working that woman.
I fucking found her, he couldn't close the deal.
What a pussy.
Yeah.
I'm gonna make everything all right.
I'm gonna get us that fucking money.
You got any more of that South American shit?
Nick?
Hey.
Emma's dead.
What?
Jesus.
How?
Some kid at school told me
she O. D.'d on some South American drug.
They found her buried in the Angeles Crest Mountains.
I'm sorry.
No, you're not.
You and mom don't want to help.
You don't care.
You just want to protect yourself...
this shitty business you run.
What are you talking about?
I want to tell the police the truth, Dad.
- Everything. - The truth?
I've run it all through my mind.
The day she was here, the day everyone was here...
me, you, Mom... we all got questioned, all of us.
All of us but that client of yours...
the woman with the Jaguar.
Oh, now, son, I... I know you're hurting,
but that... that woman had nothing to do with this.
You don't know!
She could have seen something, Dad!
If she had seen something strange,
- she would have told... - How do you know?!
Your clients are not exactly solid citizens.
This one is.
She's just a sad, rich woman from San Marino,
and she didn't have anything to do with this.
I promise.
I should have left her alone, Dad.
Hey.
This is not your fault.