I have been thinking about us a lot, though.
All the moments.
I thought we could survive anything.
This trip has given me a lot of clarity.
That last year in Vegas,
I could barely breathe,
let alone... think.
Hey, Officers!
I need your help.
We've got to preserve those tire tracks.
Take your stick, dig a trench.
Got to divert the water.
Catherine?
You covered the body
with a tarp.
You contaminated the evidence.
First responder tarped it before I even arrived.
Thought he was helping out.
I should be giving you grief. You were out.
Dispatch said you didn't acknowledge.
What do you know?
Trucker spotted the body.
Called it in.
Face is embedded with asphalt.
Hey, guys. Got here as fast as I could.
See if he's got any I.D.
Nothing.
Rigidity hasn't extended into the limbs.
The lividity's blanching.
Probably been dead two to four hours.
Fingers and toes are gone.
Ligature marks around the posterior aspect
of both wrists.
Tied up and dragged?
Well, then the rest of his body should look like hamburger.
Roll him.
Burnt motor oil.
And his shirt looks like it was scorched.
He could have been tied
to the undercarriage of a vehicle.
A vehicle with a high ground clearance.
Truck or S.U.V.
We got to get this body out of here.
Where are the easy-ups?
They're on their way.
Before I left, um,
you said some things that I tried not to hear,
but now, uh, I think you were right.
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Looks like Hawk here played softball for Talmadge Media.
I'll have Brass run down his real name.
Two, three, four.
Seven, eight, nine
stab wounds in his shirt?
What's the matter,
you got a migraine?
No.
Go call Brass.
All right.
Well, I still have to do the paperwork
and fill out a tox request
on a hit-and-run.
Tissue was white, so, no blood flow.
Means, what happened to the face happened postmortem.
I can see his brains through his nasal cavities.
That's cool.
Well, B.R.B.- be right back.
My wife's got me into texting now.
No, that's it, Jim. Thanks.
Rope marks on the upper and lower torso,
but no bruising.
Postmortem.
So are the stab wounds.
Nipples are swollen.
And it looks like puncture wounds
around the areola.
If it was tattooing, there'd be ink.
Piercing, there'd be metal.
I don't know, man.
A kinky way to shoot up drugs?
I'll have Robbins work up a histo.
Eight and three quarter-inch tread width.
So, that's consistent with a small truck or S.U.V.
Boy, there must be a lot of clay in this soil.
Otherwise, this track would have totally washed away.
My shoes are ruined.
Why didn't you tell me to wear boots?
Or, better yet, hire some more CSIs.
Trust me, you were my last choice.
Thank you.
Ow! Ow!
Catherine, man down!
Found a rope.
Got a splinter.
Think I pierced an artery.
It looks like blood.
Nylon rope.
Must have been used to tie the body to the undercarriage.
When the rope melted,
body dropped onto the road.
Killer's driving along.
Loses his cargo,
pulls over,
and drags the body out into the desert.
Must have been an accidental body dump.
Why go to the trouble to tie it up
under the car in the first place?
Because if a cop stop you,
they're going to look inside the car, not underneath it.
Let me take a walk through. Hang back a second.
All clear.
No sign of forced entry.
Apart from us.
Why don't you take this?
I'll check the back.
Well, I got an I.D.
Ian Wallace was a good-looking kid.
Smells like citrus.
Got a blood drop with an air bubble.
Got to be saliva.
Hey, somebody got punched.
Found more blood.
Somebody tried to clean up.
Ran tox on hamburger head.
Low levels of THC and alcohol.
For what's it worth, I don't think
he was injecting weed or beer into his nipples.
Although, this one time, Hodges and I were growing botox,
and he goes, and he injects it.
It's okay, Henry. I don't need to know any more.
Yeah.
Hello from below the equator and Puerto Ayora.
We've been at sea over a month now.
You wouldn't believe the crew.
Students, activists, scientists.
The dinner conversations alone are mind-blowing.
There's even this, uh, marine biologist
that reminds me a little bit of you.
I wish that we could talk in person,
but, uh, this is the best that I can do.
I want to apologize for being out of touch.
I have been thinking about us a lot, though.
All the moments.
I thought we could survive anything.
This trip has given me a lot of clarity.
That last year in Vegas,
I could barely breathe, let alone... think,
but, um, now,
for the first time in a really long time,
I'm happy.
Ian's sports car is in the garage.
Other spot's empty.
I did find some fresh oil stains and rope burns, though.
So, I'm thinking the killer
probably pulled his truck into the garage.
Would have given him plenty of time to tie up the body.
Back door's unlocked.
Anybody could have gotten in here.
Victim definitely lived with a chick.
Napkin holders,
heart-shaped pillows.
Women's' magazines.
Yeah. Where is she?
I don't see a purse around here.
Maybe she roped him
to the bottom of her truck and split.
I got a name.
Justine Stefani.
Okay.
I'll have Brass put out a broadcast.
Puncture wounds didn't penetrate
any of the significant blood vessels.
And there's no evidence of injection
or scar tissue, so that rules out drug abuse.
Punctures were made by 18-gauge needles
which pierced the areola.
They were arranged in a symmetrical pattern around the nipples.
Have you ever seen this?
Never.
Or this.
What appear to be minor burn marks
on the upper and lower surfaces of the tongue.
There are no other burn marks in the oral cavity.
Histo confirmed the burns were electrical.
They grilled his tongue?
That's sick.
Torture. That would be my opinion at this time.
COD?
Manual asphyxia.
Bruising around the trachea.
Broken hyoid bone.
Killer strangled him with his bare hands.
So, Ian Wallace was restrained,
his nipples were stimulated,
he had minor burns on his tongue,
and he was asphyxiated.
S and M?
Gone very, very wrong.
These stab wounds
are brutal, random and postmortem.
Which is inconsistent with S&M.
Well, it's hard to take pleasure in someone's pain
once they're dead.
Which is the "gone wrong" part.
You're a doctor- is that normal?
Grissom being socially awkward?
Yeah, that's normal.
He won't talk to me.
And he doesn't appear to be sleeping much.
Grissom.
What are you doing here?
I should have called. I'm sorry.
I... I didn't know I was coming.
???
Thank you.
When was the last time you had a good night's sleep?
Bad dreams.
How can I help?
I, uh... have a body with S&M type wounds,
but there are inconsistencies.
So I was hoping to get your first impressions.
My first impression... is that you've changed.
Come on.
How have you been?
I got my Masters in psychology last year.
I'm a licensed therapist.
I now have patients, not clients.
Let me guess- you specialize in sex therapy?
These wounds around his nipples are from needle play.
The arrangement is called "stacking. "
May I touch you?
Needles are inserted transversely and sagittally,
which raises the nipple upward.
This causes the nipple to swell and become highly sensitive.
Which creates a "pain" button.
Any touch or pressure
overwhelms the senses
and releases a flood of endorphins.
So, uh...
our victim is a submissive
who enjoyed pain?
He also had electrical burns on his tongue.
Now I'm familiar
with the use of gags in S&M.
And some are metal.
Did you ever use electricity?
I never used electricity above the waist.
It only takes six milliamps to stop the heart.
It's too dangerous.
This is tongue bondage.
It's used in medical exam fantasies
as part of humiliation.
You ask the "patient" to stick out their tongue,
grab the tongue with chopsticks, rubber band them
to create a dental gag.
In a typical situation, one would use wood chopsticks,
which would leave some bruising and if you're lucky, splinters.
In this case, metal chopsticks may have been used
and electricity applied.
These are masochistic injuries.
So we're looking for a dominant?
He lived with a woman.
Was she into the lifestyle? We don't know.
She's missing.
I'd like to see photos of their bedroom.
Sometimes it's obvious.
Sometimes it's not.
All right, copy that.
I'll efax you the over-alls if we find anything.
Okay.
Grissom wants us to look for any S&M paraphernalia.
Once had a old lady
in her 70's-
burglary victim.
Had to process her vibrators.
Some of them were burned out.
Why would you process her... tuning forks?
I'm thorough.
I got a booty smudge on the TV.
Justine super-sized herself.
Double-D implants.
Welcome to Vegas.
Positive for semen.
What does it say about me
that I always find the smut?
That you're lucky.
Guess they were into S&M.
You ever been tied up?
What do you think?
I think you're more into hair pulling.
Hey...
knock it off.
Give me some pictures of that stuff, will ya?
Got a bloody shirt in a laundry basket.
Bloodstains match
the puncture marks on Ian's pecs.
Which means he must have changed his shirt
after the nipple action, but before he was killed.
Girlfriend could've redressed him,
tossed the shirt in the basket out of habit.
Yeah, and then what?
Little Justine ties 200 pounds of dead weight
up under her SUV?
Well, I could do it.
It's just physics and leverage.
Takes brains not brawn. I don't think you could.
I think you could do it.
The killing part, too.
The trunk contains male slave gear.
Needle and electro play requires
special equipment.
I don't see any dedicated S&M room.
So he didn't play at home.
Do you think he went to a professional?
Lower Linx is part of the amateur scene.
It has a well-equipped back room.
You have to know the right people.
Rents by the hour.
It's a proven sociological fact
that the public won't commingle with cops.
I try not to take it personally.
Yeah, me neither.
I'd like to talk to the owner.
Michelle Tournay.
All my licenses are current.
What do you want?
You recognize these people?
Do you have any security cameras?
Being Big Brother's your job.
Well, Big Brother would like to see the back room.
You know what I mean-
the real back room.
I'm done cooperating.
Get a warrant.
Okay.
That could take a couple of hours. We'll wait.
Got a menu?
Who else has a key to this room?
Only me.
Okay.
Looks like an oscilloscope.
This is the juice right here.
Hey, Jim, check it out.
Chopsticks.
What's the word?
Sex.
That love juice from near the TV
was a mixture of seminal fluid and vaginal secretions.
Ian and his girlfriend?
Well, yes on him,
but assuming that that was her toothbrush you gave me,
definitely no on her.
That's motive.
Dom-girlfriend finds her man doing the nasty
with some hood rat in their bedroom and kills him.
Yeah... I found more.
It's on the shirt that you gave me
from Ian Wallace's laundry basket.
High-velocity blood stains?
Our victim wasn't shot.
No, but sometimes expiratory blood
can actually mimic high-velocity gunshot spatter.
It's on the back of the shoulder.
It's probably not his.
Maybe he's got the killer on his back.
Before I left, uh, you said some things that I tried not to hear,
but now, uh, I think you were right.
If a relationship can't move forward,
it withers.
There's a schism between the lovers.
Ian and Justine have different priorities,
different roles.
She's the keeper of the hearth- sentimental,
traditional.
Mass card and rosary in her nightstand.
A good girl, afraid of the dark.
What about him?
Ian liked to compartmentalize.
It made him feel safe.
Everything had its place.
Work, her, sports.
He kept his dark side locked in a trunk,
hidden away from her.
Does Sara know you're here?
No.
Am I your secret?
No, and you're not my therapist.
They found some evidence
that Ian may have had sex with another woman in their house.
That's his subconscious desire to be caught and punished,
which is why he chose Justine as a partner.
He's got a mommy to hide things from.
The Virgin Mother.
Justine is an enabler,
not a dominant.
Even if she discovered his infidelities,
she couldn't harm him.
She's not your killer.
The Boulder City cop was able to run the burnt license plate.
The registered owner is Justine Stefani.
I'm guessing we're about 20 miles southeast
of the original crime scene.
Those are breast implants.
Unlike most plastic, silicone is extremely heat resistant.
Justine Stefani had fake boobs.
I saw a photo of her.
Doc Robbins will be able to match the serial numbers of those implants
and confirm her identity.
???
Serial numbers from the breast implants confirm
the victim is Justine Stefani.
Dave, do you want to flip her over?
Third-degree burns over 75% of her body.
Doc, take a look.
The victim's arms were bound.
Ligature marks are ante-mortem.
Found a set of shoe impressions heading away from the highway.
Tire impressions followed them.
Found Justine's boots under the vehicle.
C.O.D. was multiple traumatic injuries- homicide.
Compound fractures to both femurs indicate impact
back to front.
Fractures are inconsistent with passenger injuries,
but consistent with a pedestrian
being hit by a vehicle.
Found a clump of Justine's hair on the skid plate.
She was ultimately killed by her own SUV.
Axle was cracked, making the vehicle undriveable,
which is probably why the killer torched it.
A second set of impressions were consistent
with a size nine athletic shoe.
???
separate set of tisions justff the road.
The killer may have flagged down a passing motorist<
or had an accomplice.
So we have two new suspects.
One of whom wears a size nine shoe,
which is the equivalent of a woman's size 11.
The other suspect drives a vehicle
with two different brands of tires.
Front were Pirelli P-235 70R 15s.
Rear were same size Michelin.
Can't narrow it down.
We know that Ian was killed at the house
and transported in Justine's car,
so Justine had to have been kidnapped from the house.
So whatever started at the Lower Linx
ended at their house.
She must have walked in on it.
Why not just kill her there?
I mean, if you take a live female victim,
there's a reason.
You want to take your time with her.
I did collect these metal chopsticks
from the Lower Linx.
They're used in tongue bondage.
Now, the center saliva DNA is a match to Ian Wallace,
but on the ends, the epithelial DNA,
unknown female.
It did, however, match the DNA profile
from the vaginal secretions at the house.
So Ian was sleeping with his dom.
You know, I got a real dominatrix vibe
from Miss Tournay.
Her and Lady Heather could be sisters.
Who's Lady Heather?
Oh, that's a whole other Oprah.
Changing the channel,
do we have enough to get a warrant for Ms. Tournay's DNA?
Yeah, I think so. I'll talk to the DA.
Oh, we also might have a lead on the other suspect.
I ran Justine's phone records.
Last incoming call was from a Martin Devlin at 8:12 P.M.
I have tremendous respect for law enforcement.
Risking your lives every day
for so little reward.
How'd you get Justine Stefani's phone number?
Got it off a warm call list.
She was a Web site surfer, Jim.
Left her contact info.
What'd you two talk about?
Life insurance, term for her
and her soon-to-be fianc?
She was a planner.
Did you talk to the boyfriend?
Only her, Jim.
You ever been to their house?
No, it was one phone call.
Chatted her up and talked some turkey.
Oh, did you close her on the insurance?
I had her going, then out of the blue, she hangs up.
Oh.
Yeah, I lost that fish.
Sorry I can't be of more help, Jim. I...
But meeting me could be the best thing
that ever happened to you.
Oh, yeah?
You see, most cops are under-insured.
And it's your family
that'll suffer.
I can hook you up with catastrophic life,
an umbrella policy and car insurance
in less than ten minutes
and it'll save you money.
Thanks. I'm all set. Thanks.
In the heterosexual world,
men want to be dominated by women.
and women by men.
So Wallace would have had a female dominant.
Well, we've confirmed that through physical evidence.
She also slept with him.
Which is why one should always go to a professional.
They know the boundaries.
I feel the same way about crime scene investigators.
And no one has more rigid boundaries than you.
We know there was at least one killer,
but there may have been two.
But we don't know if it was a man or a woman.
If your dominant is the killer,
she would most likely choose a slave to assist her.
Someone she could trust and control.
Which would be a man. Mm.
Amateurs often play scenes in groups.
And the dom would select slaves
who share similar fantasies and fetishes.
Why did you lie to us about knowing Ian Wallace?
We have physical evidence linking him
to your S&M room,
so we know you know him.
You had no right to ask the question,
therefore I had no obligation to answer it.
I have a warrant to collect buccal swabs,
take all your shoes, and search you SUV.
What do you need the stuff for?
Doesn't matter. I have a warrant.
I can take it.
So why don't you tell me what's going on?
Yes, I facilitate people's BDS&M scenes.
It's a way to make money.
It's not something I practice.
I'm an entrepreneur.
I majored in theater.
Don't you get it?
I get that you're looking at two counts of capital murder.
I hope you're a good actress.
Look, Ian came in a lot.
Got to know each other, I ended up sleeping with him.
At his house. We know that, too.
No. I have rules.
I'm not uptight about sex,
but I like my privacy.
Never been to his house,
he'd never been to mine.
Open wide.
I'm not letting you take my DNA and put it in some system
where it's gonna stay the rest of my life.
If you're innocent, what does it matter?
That just proves you're a fascist
and this is a police state.
Help me out here, will you, Mitch?
Ma'am, if you don't let the CSI do his job,
I'm gonna have to arrest you for obstruction.
Turned you on, didn't it?
Bet you're standing at attention.
Hypocrite. You're no different
than the freaks that rent my back room.
So I got a match from that high-velocity bloodstain
on the Ian Wallace shirt.
Your suspect has seven out of 13 alleles
in common with a convicted felon named George Devlin.
Look, he's still serving time.
Justine got a call from a Martin Devlin the night she died.
Mr. Devlin, are you sure
you don't want to call Legal Aid
and ask for a senior attorney?
I trust her completely.
Okay.
Let's start with the DNA sample.
We refuse.
Too invasive.
We have a warrant.
Then I'll file a motion to quash it.
We have Mr. Devlin's blood on the victim's shirt
and we have a mother lode of probable cause.
I'll argue that under the Daubert Standards,
your DNA analysis is unreliable and invalid.
Please remove your shirt.
I said no.
Transitory evidence. We don't need a warrant.
Come on. Let's go.
No, no...
Needle play.
You're into S&M?
Stick out your tongue and say, "Ah. "
Ah.
Boy, I hope you have a lot of insurance, Marty.
What are you accusing my client of?
We already have his dom in custody.
Sooner or later, she's going to roll on him,
and then we have him on the hook
for kidnapping and murder.
Oh, you like hooks, don't you, Marty?
I didn't kidnap anybody.
Is that a confession?
I'm advising you to remain silent.
So what happened?
You and Ms. Tournay followed Ian Wallace home
from the Lower Linx and then you had a fight?
One of you killed him.
Called his girlfriend-
told her she better come home.
Probably planned on framing her.
And then you lassoed him under Justine's car.
What kind of car do you drive, Marty?
Michelle was driving a Durango,
and you were following behind
like a nice little slave.
But then things get weird.
The body fell out on the road.
Justine made a break for it,
and I bet you were the one
who decided to set her on fire. Stop... stop!
There are no safe words here, Marty.
This is a police station.
You like pain?
'Cause you're going to be in for a treat.
We're invoking. We're done.
I noticed in the autopsy report
that Mr. Wallace was stabbed after he was dead.
Right.
Which would make your dom a sexual sadist.
That's highly unusual.
Why?
There must be sexual sadists that seek out that world.
See, sexual sadists are typically charming loners.
They would be repulsed by a consensual, safe and communicative lifestyle.
When a submissive says "stop," you have to stop.
That doesn't work for a sexual sadist.
They get off on the terror of their subjects.
So you think that S&M play was not involved in the murders?
They were separate events?
That would be my expert opinion.
May I make a personal observation?
As a friend, not as a therapist?
Everything I've told you, you could have read in a book.
I think the case is a mere pretext
and you're here for a more personal reason.
Before I left,
you said some things that I tried not to hear,
but now, uh, I think you were right.
If a relationship can't move forward,
it withers.
I've been waiting for you to decide.
But sometimes not making a decision is making a decision.
???
What stopped you?
I don't know.
A lot of things.
Devotion to your work?
Loyalty to the team? Fear of the unknown?
Do you regret your decision not to go with her?
It was beyond my control.
Really?
Most relationships are over before they end.
But it's still a death.
You mourn the loss, have conflicting emotions-
but oftentimes there's a sense of relief.
We've all experienced it, but no one wants to admit it.
I didn't say the relationship was over.
You didn't have to.
Not making a decision was your decision.
Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, uh...
you don't have to worry about me anymore.
I'm good.
I'm really good.
And honestly...
I think it's better this way.
I think you're here because it's not home.
It's not work.
And this is the only place that doesn't remind you of Sara.
I have a guest bedroom upstairs.
You can stay as long as you want.
I pulled Martin Devlin's info
from his SIM card.
Guy's a big talker, but no calls to or from Michelle Tournay.
Did they text?
These are all the texts.
Again, nothing to or from Michelle Tournay.
Devlin called our female vic at 8:12.
They talked until 8:29.
He sent that text one minute later.
Are we ready to see this photo?
Holy crap.
That's our suspect's attorney.
I didn't see that coming.
Crisscross the phone number.
Yeah.
Who the hell is Marshall Jeffries?
Look, it's one digit off from Justine's number.
He must have panicked-
typed in the wrong number
and sent the money shot to a stranger.
We have a new suspect.
How do you know Martin Devlin?
We just met.
Come on.
I called Legal Aid.
There's no record of him in the database.
I'm sure it's a clerical error.
Counselor, isn't it a conflict of interest to represent Mr. Devlin while you're having
an intimate relationship with one of his victims?
Lawyer by day,
dominatrix by night.
Similar skill set.
I was at Ian's house the night of the murder...
but I left just after that picture was taken.
Why'd you kill him?
I didn't.
So Martin did?
He swore to me he was innocent.
But I don't know.
The three of us did a scene together at the Lower Linx.
I lost control.
I got really turned on...
kissed him.
Martin got jealous, stepped out of his role.
So you're in love with Ian, Martin's in love with you,
they're both your slaves.
Sounds like a kinky soap opera.
Yes.
I broke every rule.
Ian went home.
I wanted to tell him how I felt, so I followed him.
I love you.
I can tell you feel the same.
You think I'm going to introduce you to my parents
and let you raise my kids?
My girlfriend's going to be home soon.
You got to go.
Get a grip. It was just sex.
Martin came in the back door.
He went after Ian.
This time, I didn't try to stop it.
Then Ian threw us both out.
I watched Martin drive away.
He could have gone back,
but there is no way he would have killed the girlfriend.
Not like that.
We have evidence linking the lawyer to Ian.
Her DNA was at the Lower Linx as well as at the house.
Which means Michelle Tournay is no longer a suspect.
But there's an issue.
Lawyer wears a size six shoe.
Shoe impressions found in the desert are too big
to be hers.
Plus, she drives a Mini Cooper.
So there's no match to the tire impressions.
Which means we can't place her at Justine's crime scene.
Or link her to Ian's body dump.
How about Martin Devlin?
The feet are too big, the car isn't a match.
I even checked both their credit records.
Neither one rented a car.
So we're missing the third side
of the evidence trinity.
We can link the scenes and the victims,
but we can't link the suspects to the crime scenes.
The back door was unlocked.
Anybody could have walked right in there.
So are we saying it was random.
or they were targeted?
ThS&M factor gave us all tunnel vision.
I disagree.
We followed the evidence.
Which tells us that the same night
Ian's play date went wrong,
a couple of psychopaths just happened to torture, kidnap
and kill our vics?
According to Locard's theory,
we're still missing something.
There's still got to be evidence out there.
Heather...
would you stay?
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