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#417 : Confidences

Titre original:"Check Your Head"
Réalisé par : Timothy Busfield
Ecrit par : Diego Gutierrez

Résumé : L'équipe est à la recherche de Rachel, une chroniqueuse qui donne des conseils dans un journal. Elle est victime d’agoraphobie.
L'alerte a été donnée parce qu'elle n'était pas chez elle, alors qu'elle n'avait pas quitté son appartement depuis deux ans.

Audiences françaises (1ère diffusion) : 7,7 millions de téléspectateurs


3.5 - 2 votes

Titre VO
Check Your Head

Titre VF

Première diffusion

Première diffusion en France


Si on chantait (J/D)

Si on chantait (J/D)


Photos promo

L'agent Johnson (Marianna Jean-Baptiste) concentrée sur ce qu'elle lit

L'agent Johnson (Marianna Jean-Baptiste) concentrée sur ce qu'elle lit

Eric Close joue l'agent Martin Fitzgerald

Eric Close joue l'agent Martin Fitzgerald

Les agents Delgado et Malone

Les agents Delgado et Malone

Danny Taylor (Enrique Murciano)

Danny Taylor (Enrique Murciano)

Elena Delgado (Roselyn Sanchez)

Elena Delgado (Roselyn Sanchez)

Jack Malone au téléphone

Jack Malone au téléphone

Marianna Jean-Baptiste est l'agent Vivian Johnson

Marianna Jean-Baptiste est l'agent Vivian Johnson

L'agent Spade

L'agent Spade

L'agent Danny Taylor (Enrique Murciano) et l'agent Malone (Anthony LaPaglia) font du porte à porte

L'agent Danny Taylor (Enrique Murciano) et l'agent Malone (Anthony LaPaglia) font du porte à porte

Les agents sur le terrain

Les agents sur le terrain

 Vivian Johnson (Marianna Jean-Baptiste) boit son café

Vivian Johnson (Marianna Jean-Baptiste) boit son café

Martin Fitzgerald (Eric Close) et Vivian  Johnson (Marianna Jean-Baptiste)

Martin Fitzgerald (Eric Close) et Vivian Johnson (Marianna Jean-Baptiste)

Les agents Fitzgerald et Spade

Les agents Fitzgerald et Spade

L'agent Johnson (Marianna Jean-Baptiste)

L'agent Johnson (Marianna Jean-Baptiste)

Samantha Spade (Poppy Montgomery) parle à la radio

Samantha Spade (Poppy Montgomery) parle à la radio

Plus de détails

Without a Trace
4.17 - "Check Your Head"
Original CBS Airdate: 03/09/06
Transcribed from CBS


Transcribed by Elise B.
Contact the transcriptionist at [email protected]

"WITHOUT A TRACE" and other related entities are owned, (TM) and (c) by JERRY BRUCKHEIMER Television, CBS Productions, and Warner Bros. Television (an AOL Time Warner Company). All Rights Reserved. This transcript was made without their permission, approval, authorization or endorsement. For Fair Use, for entertainment and for educational purposes only. Any reproduction, duplication or distribution of this material in any form is expressly prohibited. It is absolutely forbidden to use it for commercial gain.

SUMMARY: An advice columnist vanishes, and the team suspects foul play since the woman was agoraphobic and hadn't left her apartment in two years.



[Ext: New York City - street - day]

(Dean Martin's "That's Amore" plays as the camera scans down the street. We see a cab advertising "Check your head with Rachel".)

(A man is reading the "Check your head" article in the paper.)

(The camera pans up an apartment building to a window of a walk-up apartment, as we hear RACHEL GIBSON's voice reading her article.)

RACHEL GIBSON: (v.o.) Dear loved and tossed like garbage. In the world of relationships, there's nothing worse than a partner who covers you with kisses, before heading out to share her booty with others. So I understand exactly why you'd want to sleep with ten of your cheating girlfriend's girlfriends. But, as my Aunt Rosy says, there's no way to teach the cat that peed on your rug a lesson. Sometimes it's easier just to clean the litter box. So dump her cheating ass and get back at her the old-fashioned way. Find someone hotter, smarter, and more fun. Then call your ex and tell her all about it.


[Int: RACHEL GIBSON's apartment - continuous]

(RACHEL sits at her computer, typing the words she has just said.)

(The buzzer sounds.)

RACHEL GIBSON: Just a minute.

(RACHEL sends the article to the Gotham Observer. The buzzer sounds again. RACHEL gets up from her desk.)

RACHEL GIBSON: I'm coming. Who is it?

(The buzzer sounds again as RACHEL reaches the front door. She peers through the peep hole. She vanishes.)


[Int: RACHEL GIBSON's apartment - day]

(The buzzer sounds again. VIVIAN is standing exactly where RACHEL was when she vanished. There are agents sifting through evidence in the apartment. She opens the door to reveal SAMANTHA.)

VIVIAN: Hey. Sorry for breaking into your lunch.

SAMANTHA: Don't worry. It was a salad. What happened here?

VIVIAN: Okay. Rachel Gibson, 29. Writes for the Gotham Observer. Her editor comes over to bring some papers, the door was open, she was gone.

SAMANTHA: Yeah, I know her column. It's funny. Don't know how many people it helps, but it's funny.

(VIVIAN walks over to RACHEL's desk, where there is a huge stack of mail.)

VIVIAN: And if this pile is any indication, some of her fans are real whack jobs.

SAMANTHA: How long has she been missing?

VIVIAN: Five hours.

SAMANTHA: Seriously?

VIVIAN: Um-hmm.

(SAMANTHA smiles and turns to leave.)

SAMANTHA: Alright, I'm going to go finish my salad. Why don't you call me when she gets back from wherever she is.

VIVIAN: No, no. She's an agorophobic. Clinically diagnosed. Apparently she hasn't left the apartment for two years.

SAMANTHA: Not once?

VIVIAN: Not even to go into the hall.

[white board reads: RACHEL GIBSON 7A-NY 5167234]





[caption: 6 HOURS MISSING]

[Int: RACHEL GIBSON's apartment - day]

(SAMANTHA sits at RACHEL's desk as VIVIAN interviews RACHEL's assistant, BIANCA.)

VIVIAN: When was the last time you saw her?

BIANCA: About 7:30 last night. Right before I drove up to Kellington with my ex.

VIVIAN: We're going to need to talk to him.

BIANCA: He's a she.

(VIVIAN nods, unphased.)

BIANCA: I'll get you her number.

SAMANTHA: How long have you been working for Rachel?

BIANCA: Ah, about a year and a half.

SAMANTHA: So you would know if her agorophobia was for real. It just seemed a little far-fetched.

BIANCA: Yeah, I thought so too. In fact, right after I started working for her, I pretended like I broke my leg out in the hallway. And I begged her to come help me. She was in full-out screech mode within two seconds. It took a handful of medication to calm her down.

VIVIAN: She had a panic attack.

BIANCA: Right. And right after she didn't fire me, she told me she'd had them since she was a kid and that staying inside was the only way to control it.

(SAMANTHA holds up a two-way walkie-talkie.)

SAMANTHA: Um, Bianca, we found this. Any idea what she uses it for?

BIANCA: I don't know. I just figured it was another gadget she ordered in the mail.

VIVIAN: Even with your helping her, she must have a lot of people coming in and out of the apartment.

BIANCA: Yeah, there's tons. Food delivery guys. Her yoga instructor. Her accountant. Her dentist.

VIVIAN: Did anyone stand out to you?

BIANCA: Like dangerous?

VIVIAN: Or interested? People coming in regularly, she might have struck up a relationship with one of them.

BIANCA: Well, that sort of make sense.

VIVIAN: How so?

BIANCA: Last week she got flowers. And she loves flowers, but these made her act really weird.


[Int: RACHEL GIBSON's apartment - kitchen - day]

(BIANCA comes in through the front door. RACHEL is standing in the kitchen, arranging flowers.)

BIANCA: Rach? I'm back.

(RACHEL, surprised, turns and drops the vase onto the floor, scattering glass and flowers everywhere. BIANCA runs over to help her.)

BIANCA: Oh, my god. Let me help you.

RACHEL GIBSON: I've got it.

BIANCA: That's alright.

RACHEL GIBSON: I said I've got it!

(BIANCA flinches a little, then changes the subject.)

BIANCA: It's okay. God, these are beautiful.

RACHEL GIBSON: Well, they were.

(RACHEL dumps what is left of the flower arrangement into the trash.)

BIANCA: Oh, I wish you could see the wild ones. They'll be all over Cherry Hill in about a month.

RACHEL GIBSON: Yeah. If I ever get out of here.

BIANCA: Oh, I could always take a picture.

(RACHEL looks up to see BIANCA's hopeful expression and smiles. She shakes her head.)

RACHEL GIBSON: Look, I'm sorry. I'm just in a really bad mood. My column's sucking today.

BIANCA: It's alright.

(BIANCA looks over on the counter to see the card that came with the flowers.)

BIANCA: Who are these from anyways?

(RACHEL snatches the card away from her.)

RACHEL GIBSON: It's nothing.



VIVIAN: We're going to need a list of all the people who had access to her.

SAMANTHA: Hey Bianca, I just have one more question. Did Rachel fire you?

BIANCA: What? No.

SAMANTHA: Well, we've, ah, we've been going through her schedule book and I'm just curious as to why she had all these assistant interviews planned.

BIANCA: I quit. I gave notice two weeks ago. It's not Rachel at all. She's great. It's just, you know, an agorophobic depends on you for everything. It can get a little overwhelming.

VIVIAN: So then it is about Rachel.

[white board reads: 1 WBD - GETS MYSTERY FLOWERS]


[Int: FBI offices - JACK's office - day]

(JACK is sitting at his desk, talking on the phone, presumably to ANNE. He is looking at a blue patterned tie that is sitting on his desk.)

JACK: Um-hmm. Yeah. That would be great.

(ELENA knocks and enters the office.)

ELENA: Hey, Jack.

JACK: What?

ELENA: (spanish)

JACK: Que?

ELENA: No more stripes?

JACK: What? You think it's too much?

ELENA: No, I think it's lovely.

(JACK goes back to his phone call.)

JACK: No, no. It's Elena. No, she likes it. Yeah. Well, you know what. I've got to go. Ah, what? Yeah. Uh, let me call you back. (hangs up) So, um, what's up?

ELENA: Okay. So I got Rachel's phone records. Someone from Roosevelt Island Penetentiary called her ten days ago.

JACK: What, FTD guy? Did you get a name?

ELENA: No, no name. But I'm going through the columns. And quite a few are from the unhappily incarcerated.

JACK: Are there the happily incarcerated?

ELENA: Well, according to the columns, there aren't the happily anything.

JACK: Yeah. Well, I could have told you that. Alright. Just, ah, keep working on that. Uh, uh. Just keep with that.

(JACK gets up to leave his office. He realizes he is still holding the tie and shoves it awkwardly in his jacket pocket.)

(ELENA grins at JACK and follows him out into the bullpen.)


[Int: FBI offices - bullpen - continuous]

(DANNY is sitting at a conference table, clipping out RACHEL's columns from stacks of newspapers.)

(JACK and ELENA approach him.)

JACK: What's next? A juice box and a nap? Where are we with the threatening letters?

DANNY: Ah, no luck. But there are these two people that she keeps referencing. An Aunt Jimmy and a Cousin Cleveland. Now, I think...

ELENA: No, no, no. He means, Clemmie from Cleveland and a cousin named Jimmy. I'm just saying.

(DANNY gives her a dirty look.)

DANNY: No, I was just saying. These people, they might be real. And they might know something about her.

(MARTIN joins them at the table, carrying a large box labelled "Unstable Individuals".)

MARTIN: A couple more threat letters for you from Rachel's editor, who's waiting for us.

JACK: Think you can handle it?

(DANNY now gives JACK a dirty look. JACK walks over with MARTIN to interview the editor.)

ELENA: Mija. Somebody needs his nappy time.

(ELENA laughs, flips her ponytail over her shoulder, and goes back to her desk.)


[Int: FBI offices - bullpen - continuous]

(JACK and MARTIN sit at a table in the bullpen with RACHEL's editor, MICHAEL.)

JACK: She writes some pretty ballsy stuff for an agorophobic. She ever piss any fans off?

MICHAEL: Oh sure, sure. I mean, we've had to refer some to the police. But there's no way anyone, not from the paper, or Bianca, would have given out Rachel's address.

JACK: Apparently there's some convict that's been writing to her on a pretty regular basis.

MICHAEL: She never said anything about it to me.

MARTIN: And she normally would?

MICHAEL: Oh yeah. Though, at her last book signing, we had a packed house downtown and Rachel is a no-show. So I go back to her apartment to see if she's okay.


[Int: Hallway outside Rachel's apartment - day]

(A man, PETER HILL, stands outside RACHEL's apartment, banging on the door.)


RACHEL GIBSON: Leave me alone.

PETER HILL: Let me in, dammit. I need to talk to you.

(MICHAEL comes up the stairs and sees PETER at RACHEL's door.)

MICHAEL: Hey! What, what are you doing? Hey, hey!

(PETER sees MICHAEL and turns and runs the other way.)

(MICHAEL runs to RACHEL's door. He knocks.)

MICHAEL: Rachel, hey, it's me. It's okay, he's gone. Rachel? Are you in there?

(RACHEL finally opens the door and lets him in.)


[Int: RACHEL GIBSON's apartment - day]

(MICHEL follows RACHEL into the kitchen, where she is pacing back and forth. She is nearly hysterical.)

MICHAEL: What was that about? What's going on here? You have a book signing at Dukes, right now.

RACHEL GIBSON: I know, Michael, I'm sorry. I can't.

MICHAEL: You can't what?

RACHEL GIBSON: I can't go outside.

MICHAEL: Yes, yes you can. Because the car is outside.


MICHAEL: If we leave now we can still make it.

RACHEL GIBSON: Michael, I'm serious. I can't go out there. Everything's getting really scary. Really crazy. My anxiety attacks are getting worse and worse.

MICHAEL: But you're taking meds for that.

RACHEL GIBSON: It's not working.

MICHAEL: Well, then, what are you going to do? Stay inside?


MICHAEL: For how long?

RACHEL GIBSON: Until I feel better.


MICHAEL: And here we are, two years later, and she still hasn't left the apartment.

JACK: Until today.

MARTIN: Did you file a police report?

MICHAEL: I did. But they didn't have much to go on. I just assumed it was a fan. They're needy and they tend to get angry if Rachel doesn't respond to them.

JACK: Okay. Thank you.

[caption: 7 HOURS MISSING]


[Int: RACHEL GIBSON's apartment - day]

(SAMANTHA enters the apartment, where MACK has set up his computer on a table.)


MACK: Hey. Called you as soon as I heard the walkie call tones. There's been two more since.

SAMANTHA: Any idea where the signal's coming from?

MACK: Not exactly. You know, it's just your typical two way, about a two-mile range on a FRS frequency, but the range is environment specific.

SAMANTHA: Okay, that in English please, Mack.

MACK: Uh, in a place like this, those two miles get way cut down because of wall density and frequency interference. So we're down to about 200 yards. Which could be upstairs. It could be across the street, you know.


MACK: Thanks. I didn't sleep through every class at Quantico.

SAMANTHA: I did. You ready?

MACK: I am. Yep. Give it a shot.

(SAMANTHA picks up the walkie-talkie and tries to use it.)


ELI: (on walkie) Rachel, is that you?

SAMANTHA: No, this isn't Rachel. My name is Samantha Spade. Um, can you tell me your name?

ELI: (on walkie) Where did he take Rachel?

SAMANTHA: I'm with the FBI. We're actually looking for Rachel. Did you see someone take her?

ELI: (one walkie) A man in an orange sweatshirt grabbed her. She was kicking and fighting.

(MACK is tracking the signal from the walkie on his computer. He indicates out the window and across the street.)

MACK: Through there.

SAMANTHA: Okay. Well, maybe you can help me find her. Why don't you, ah, tell me your name and where you live?

(SAMANTHA goes to the window and leans out, looking at the windows of the building across the alley. On a floor level to RACHEL's apartment, SAMANTHA spots a young boy, ELI, holding the other walkie. ELI gasps and pulls his head back in.)




[caption: 8 HOURS MISSING]

[Int: ELI's apartment building - day]

(ELI's mother meets SAMANTHA and MARTIN and leads them upstairs to her apartment.)

ELI'S MOM: I'm so sorry. Until I got home I had no idea that Rachel was missing.

SAMANTHA: How is it you know Rachel?

ELI'S MOM: Oh, Eli was selling meringues around the neighborhood. And they just hit it off. Eli told her that he was afraid of the dark, so she got him the two-way for when he got scared.

MARTIN: It didn't bother you that this woman was taking such an interest in your son?

ELI'S MOM: Well, with her condition and all, I thought it was probably harmless. I listened a bit at the beginning. They talk a lot about sports.


[Int: apartment building - ELI's room - continuous]

ELI'S MOM: Eli, honey. These people are here to ask you some questions, okay?

SAMANTHA: Hey, Eli. We spoke on the radio, remember? Do you mind if I, ah, sit down?

ELI: Sure.

SAMANTHA: I'm Samantha. This is Martin.

MARTIN: Hey. So, ah, you saw your friend Rachel get taken away?

ELI: I was playing over there. I saw her with that man.


(ELI sits next to his window, playing with some toys. He glances across to RACHEL's apartment, and see her being dragged out of the apartment by a man in an orange sweatshirt. She appears to be fighting him off.)


ELI: I tried the two-way, but I knew she wouldn't answer. Soon as my mom came home, I told her.

SAMANTHA: Now, did Rachel ever mention someone that she was afraid of or something that was upsetting her?

ELI: Sort of.

SAMANTHA: What do you mean?

ELI: Last night, when we talked at bedtime, she was scared. I could tell.


[Int: RACHEL GIBSON's apartment - night]

(RACHEL sits on the floor next to her couch, talking on the walkie with ELI.)

ELI: He took away my nightlight because he hates me.

RACHEL GIBSON: Your dad doesn't hate you, Eli. Otherwise he wouldn't take time off work to go to your soccer games and your field trips.

ELI: Why did he do it?

RACHEL GIBSON: I think he's trying to help you get over being scared. It's no fun being scared.

ELI: It's really dark in here.

RACHEL GIBSON: When I was a kid, I got scared a lot. A lot more than you do. Until one day I realized that dark is just light hidden under an umbrella. The light's always there. It's just covered up.

ELI: I guess. I just kinda liked it better when I could see it.

RACHEL GIBSON: Well, sometimes we have to face our fears to get to where we want to go.

ELI: Where do we want to go?

(RACHEL gets very quiet. She stares at the closed door of her apartment, the light from the hall coming in the crack under the door.)

RACHEL GIBSON: I think we're going to need to talk about that tomorrow. Is that okay?

ELI: Okay. Night, Rachel.

RACHEL GIBSON: Sweet dreams, Eli.


ELI: Usually she's funny. It makes me feel better. But last night, I didn't feel better.

MARTIN: Now, this guy in the orange sweatshirt. Is there anything else you can tell us about him?

(ELI shakes his head.)


ELI: You want me to keep an eye out for him? I've got my telescope.

MARTIN: That is a fantastic idea. You're starting to think like an FBI agent.

(MARTIN smiles down at ELI, who hesitantly smiles back.)

SAMANTHA: Thanks Eli.

[white board reads: DOD - GRABBED BY MAN IN ORANGE]


[Int: FBI offices - bullpen - day]

(VIVIAN sits at her desk as DANNY walks by.)

VIVIAN: I've got Rachel's credit card bills here.

DANNY: Uh-huh.

VIVIAN: Looks like the mystery flowers. She sent them to herself.

(ELENA is on the phone at her desk.)

ELENA: Thank you so much. (hangs up) Okay, that was Roosevelt Island. They checked their call log. The convict who called Rachel was a Roger Kilborn, aka Pookie Bear. He was there five years for assault with a deadly weapon.

VIVIAN: He got out?

ELENA: Last week.


[Int: FBI offices - interview room - day]

(JACK and VIVIAN interview ROGER KILBORN, a big bear of a man. Despite his appearance, he is extremely polite and has a very deliberate way of talking.)

JACK: Pookie Bear.

ROGER KILBORN: Yeah. You want to make something of it?

VIVIAN: What, are we in grade school?

ROGER KILBORN: Sorry. Taking offence at everything. That's my main issue presently. Just so you know, I didn't make Pookie Bear, she did.

JACK: Uh-huh.


VIVIAN: Why were you calling Rachel?

ROGER KILBORN: To say thank you.

JACK: For how her tax dollars provided you with such nice accomodation?

ROGER KILBORN: Your cynicism is making me uncomfortable.

JACK: Well, I'm really sorry, Pookie.

ROGER KILBORN: I called her to thank her for helping me figure out how to be a good dad from prison. When I got sent away, my son was four. My wife was pissed. I didn't have the emotional vocabulary to process my true feelings.

VIVIAN: And a newspaper column fixed it?

ROGER KILBORN: Wasn't the column. She took a personal interest in me. Wrote all the time. We were friends. I wouldn't hurt her.

JACK: Did she say anything to you over the phone that might explain what happened to her?

ROGER KILBORN: No. But when we were talking, she asked me to stop by when I got out.


[Int: RACHEL GIBSON's apartment - day]

(ROGER sits with RACHEL at her dining table. On the table between them are three different pies. They are each eating a piece of pie.)

ROGER KILBORN: I just didn't know. Some people like apple. Others pecan, others blueberry. I thought blueberry. But they're not in season, so they're probably frozen.

RACHEL GIBSON: Oh, no. Thank you. I love pie of any kind. So, how's your son?

ROGER KILBORN: He's cute. And smart. Nothing like his dad.

RACHEL GIBSON: You're smart.

ROGER KILBORN: Right. I ought to bring you on job interviews.

RACHEL GIBSON: That might be a little difficult.

ROGER KILBORN: Oh, yeah. Sorry.

RACHEL GIBSON: Don't be silly. Let me get you some milk.

(She gets up and gets the milk from the refrigerator. She brings it back to the table and refills his glass.)

RACHEL GIBSON: No, I can imagine that it's hard for you to understand after being in prison why I would stay here if I don't even need to. It's, um, it's actually one of the reasons I wanted to see you, Roger.

ROGER KILBORN: Hey, you can call me Pookie Bear if that helps.

RACHEL GIBSON: I need a favor, Pookie Bear.

ROGER KILBORN: Anything. I'll do anything for you.

RACHEL GIBSON: I need a gun. Do you think you can get me one?

ROGER KILBORN: I, uh, probably. But I'd rather not.

RACHEL GIBSON: Please. There's something I've got to do and I haven't been out there in a long time. And everything out there scares me. And I wouldn't ask you this if it wasn't really really important. Please.


ROGER KILBORN: How could I say no? So I got her a small one.

VIVIAN: It violates your parole.

ROGER KILBORN: I assume finding Rachel is more important that busting Pookie Bear.

JACK: She say where she was going or what she needed the gun for?

ROGER KILBORN: No. And I asked.

VIVIAN: Where were you this morning, Mr. Bear?

ROGER KILBORN: With my son, Caleb. His mom'll tell you.

[white board reads: 2 DBD - GETS GUN FROM POOKIE BEAR]


[caption: 10 HOURS MISSING]

[Ext: street outside RACHEL's apartment - day]

(SAMANTHA and MARTIN sit in MARTIN's car, keeping an eye out for the man who grabbed RACHEL. SAMANTHA is on her cell phone.)

SAMANTHA: Okay, thanks. Yeah. (hangs up) They've checked every delivery service within a twenty block radius. None of them wear orange.

MARTIN: I'll tell you, agorophobia. It's so bizarre.

SAMANTHA: Well, when I was a kid, I was afraid of tomatoes.

(He gives her a "what the hell" look.)

MARTIN: Tomatoes?


MARTIN: (trying not to laugh) What? Like they were going to attack you?

SAMANTHA: No. I just hated them. I hated the gross seeds, I hated the pulpy pulpiness. I hated everything about them. And I was always terrified that they were going to end up in my food, so I would check everything. Fruit salads, desserts.


SAMANTHA: It took me about twenty minutes before I could start eating.

MARTIN: But you got over it.

SAMANTHA: Yeah. The high school cafeteria kinda shamed it out of me. I just, I can't really imagine what it must be like being afraid of the whole world, you know?

MARTIN: Yeah. Hey, what if you were? Afraid of the whole world? What do you think it would take to really drive you out of the house?

SAMANTHA: I don't know.

ELI: (on walkie) Mr. Fitzgerald. Are you there? Over.

(MARTIN picks up the walkie from the dashboard.)

MARTIN: Yeah, little buddy. I'm here. Over.

ELI: (on walkie) I see him. Behind you. In the green vest. That's the man that took Rachel, I know it.

(MARTIN checks his side mirror and sees the man ELI is talking about.)

MARTIN: Let's go.

(MARTIN and SAMANTHA get out of the car. MARTIN grabs the man in the vest, WEI PHAN, and slams him up against the hood of the car.)


MARTIN: FBI! Keep your hands where we can see them.

WEI PHAN: Don't shoot. Please!

MARTIN: He's clean. What's your name?

WEI PHAN: Wei Phan.


WEI PHAN: Wei Phan. Wei Phan.



SAMANTHA: Alright. You know what? We have a witness that saw you forcibly remove Rachel Gibson from her apartment. Where is she?

WEI PHAN: I don't know. I just did what she asked me to do.

MARTIN: What? She asked you to drag her out of her apartment? Is that what you're trying to tell us?

WEI PHAN: She said she couldn't do it herself. Look, I deliver her laundry. She said to come by this morning for a little extra cash.


[Int: RACHEL GIBSON's apartment - doorway - day]

(WEI PHAN stands in the doorway of RACHEL's apartment.)

RACHEL GIBSON: It's a phobia. An illness in my head.

WEI PHAN: You've got to be kidding me, lady. See, out, in. It's easy.

(WEI jumps in and out of the apartment.)

RACHEL GIBSON: Okay, Wei, I know it's hard for you to understand, but could you stop doing that!

(He looks at her, surprised at how upset she is. He stops immediately. She hands him some cash.)

RACHEL GIBSON: Just get me down the street.

WEI PHAN: That's all I got to do?

(RACHEL nods, then turns back to put on her coat and grab her bag. As she swings the bag onto her shoulder, the gun falls out to the floor.)

WEI PHAN: Whoa! What the hell is that for?

RACHEL GIBSON: It's not for you, I promise. Alright, let's do this.

(RACHEL walks as close as she can to the doorway. She holds her arm out to WEI.)

RACHEL GIBSON: Alright. Pull me out the door.

(WEI grabs her arm and tries to pull her, but she grabs onto the door frame and won't budge.)


(WEI stops and looks at her in surprise. What is he supposed to do now?)


RACHEL GIBSON: (getting more agitated) Come on. Get in here. Get me out of here! Come on.


RACHEL GIBSON: Oh, my god. No!

(As he goes to grab her, she shoves him away and he falls down from the momentum.)

WEI PHAN: I have no insurance!

RACHEL GIBSON: Get in here! Push me out. Come on!

WEI PHAN: Okay. Okay, okay. On count of three. One, two, three!

(He grabs her around the waist and forcibly lifts her out of the apartment, as RACHEL fights against him.)


WEI PHAN: Once I got her out of her apartment, it was easier.

SAMANTHA: Okay, did she say why she wanted to leave so desperately?

WEI PHAN: I didn't ask. Look, a crazy lady paid me fifty bucks to drag her out of her house. That's all I know. Last time I saw her she was right there. She wasn't having a good time, but she was alive.

(SAMANTHA glances to the street corner, imagining RACHEL standing there, overwhelmed by the world she is so afraid of.)




[caption: 11 HOURS MISSING]

[Int: FBI offices - bullpen - night]

(SAMANTHA and DANNY sit at the conference table, discussing the case.)

SAMANTHA: Wei Phan's story checks out. A store owner across the street saw her get into a minivan cab around 8:15 AM.

DANNY: A minivan cab. That narrows it down, huh?

SAMANTHA: Yeah. Martin's checking medallions, trying to figure out which one it was.

(VIVIAN walks over to the Suspects board and posts a police sketch of PETER HILL.)

SAMANTHA: Who's that?

VIVIAN: It's the guy who was banging on Rachel's door three years ago. I got it from the editor's police report.

DANNY: Wait a minute. I know exactly who that is. Peter Hill. He used to write her letters. Check it out.

(DANNY digs up his file from the pile on the table and hands it to SAMANTHA.)

SAMANTHA: What did he want?

DANNY: To apologize. (on phone) Hey, this is Taylor. I need you to go pick somebody up.

SAMANTHA: Wow. He says he caused her agoraphobia.

VIVIAN: He say how?

SAMANTHA: No, not in this letter. But if he's the one who drove her into the apartment, maybe he's got something to do with why she's not in it anymore.

VIVIAN: Alright.


[Int: FBI offices - interview room - night]

JACK: Thanks for coming in, Mr. Hill.

PETER HILL: Thank you? I feel like a prisoner here. What's this about?

ELENA: It's about you harassing Rachel Gibson for the past two years.

PETER HILL: Rachel? I wasn't harrassing her.

JACK: Mr. Hill, are you drunk?

PETER HILL: It's after work, and this is my living room. (Off their questioning looks) I was in my living room. It's a free country. I can have a drink if I want.

JACK: Where is Rachel Gibson?

PETER HILL: How should I know?

ELENA: Well, you wrote saying you were responsible for her condition.

PETER HILL: I know what I wrote.

SAMANTHA: You know what I think? I think you've been going after her for so long, she just got a gun and decided to go after you.

PETER HILL: She didn't come after me. I'm not some crazed fan, okay? I went to school with Rachel. We were best friends.

JACK: You're a stalker, Mr. Hill. You're the principle suspect in a kidnapping case. You've written her I don't know how many letters. You're a drunk and apparently you're an idiot.

PETER HILL: I am not a drunk.

JACK: What happened?

PETER HILL: We were fourteen. We broke into my uncle's bowling alley, like we'd done a hundred times before.


[Int: Parkway Lanes Bowling Alley - night]

(A young PETER HILL and RACHEL GIBSON climb through an open window and into the darkened bowling alley.)

PETER HILL: Eventually I'm going to be too big to climb through the window in that office.

RACHEL GIBSON: Not going to happen. You've got the metabolism of a ferret.

PETER HILL: Sounds like a compliment, Stich, and yet you've just compared me to a ferret.

RACHEL GIBSON: I was going to go with a mongoose, but I thought that was a little mean.

PETER HILL: Come on.

RACHEL GIBSON: It's freezing in here. We can't bowl like this.

(PETER goes behind the counter and starts digging through drawers.)

PETER HILL: What do you want me to tell Uncle Joe? Keep the heat on for when we break in later?

RACHEL GIBSON: Fine. But if my fingers fall off, I want a rematch.

PETER HILL: The bar key's not here.

RACHEL GIBSON: I don't need anything.

PETER HILL: I can't bowl without beer.

RACHEL GIBSON: You know, there's a reason I beat you everytime.

PETER HILL: Yeah, it's because you're a really good bowler. I'm going to run home. Dad's got a twelve in the garage fridge.

RACHEL GIBSON: I got a test tomorrow. I don't want to be here all night.

PETER HILL: I won't be gone twenty minutes. Plug in the juke boxes. You can rock out.

(PETER climbs back out the window, leaving RACHEL in the alley by herself. She picks up her bowling bowl and walks towards the lanes.)

RACHEL GIBSON: Guess it's just you and me, kid.


PETER HILL: My mom busted me getting beer out of the fridge. And I couldn't tell her we snuck into the alley.

JACK: So you never went back?


ELENA: Any chance someone broke in and did something to Rachel?

PETER HILL: I don't think so. But whatever did happen, she never spoke to me again. Kids always picked on us. She was too smart and I was a screw-up. We had each other's backs. That night, though, I let her down. I just don't know how.

ELENA: What did you say you called her back then?

PETER HILL: Stitch? It was her nickname in school. She was funny, you know. Always had us in stitches.

(JACK pushes his cup of coffee over to PETER.)

JACK: I think you're going to need this more than me.

PETER HILL: Coffee? I never touch it.


[Int: FBI offices - bullpen - night]

(MARTIN sneaks up behind VIVIAN, who is sitting at her desk.)

MARTIN: Horny at the office?

(VIVIAN glances up at him in surprise. What is he talking about? MARTIN glances towards the newspaper column that he is holding.)

MARTIN: See, it's here, just last week. Dear "Horny at the office". You're becoming more and more like my friend Stitch - desperately in love with a co-worker, yet with no idea how to approach the individual. So if Rachel was Stitch...

VIVIAN: Then there's only one other person that the co-worker could be.

MARTIN: Exactly.



(He hands her the article with a grin.)


[Int: FBI offices - private office - night]

[caption: 13 HOURS MISSING]

VIVIAN: The reason Rachel didn't tell you who the flowers were from was because she got them for you. Were you having an affair with her?


VIVIAN: Bianca, where is she?

BIANCA: I don't know. Oh my god, you think I did something to her. Why would I? I...I'm in love with her.

SAMANTHA: Is that why you quit?


SAMANTHA: Who lives in, ah, a Cedar Grove?

BIANCA: I grew up in Cedar Grove.

VIVIAN: Rachel took a cab there this morning.

BIANCA: Why would she go out... Oh, my god. This must have something to do with my father.


[Int: RACHEL GIBSON's apartment - night]

(BIANCA sits in the dark living room, on the phone. She is crying.)

BIANCA: (on phone) No, mom, I just...I wasn't thinking of myself. I just miss you guys. Ah, no. I'm fine. Alright. Just forget that I called, okay? No, it's fine. I'm alright. Just forget it.

(BIANCA hangs up. RACHEL enters the living room and sees her crying.)

RACHEL GIBSON: Are you okay?

BIANCA: It's my dad's sixtieth birthday tomorrow.

RACHEL GIBSON: You haven't seen him in a long time.

BIANCA: It's been six years since I came out. I just figured maybe it was the right time. I even bought him a stupid gift.

(BIANCA glances at a box sitting on the table. RACHEL sits down next to her on the couch.)

RACHEL GIBSON: What did your mother say?

BIANCA: She said not to come. That it was a festive affair and that I would only give him agina.

RACHEL GIBSON: Well, who cares what your mother says? You should just go anyway.

BIANCA: It was a stupid idea.

RACHEL GIBSON: Hey. It wasn't a stupid idea. It took a lot of guts to call after that long. Well, you should at least send the gift.

BIANCA: Why? It'll only ruin his day.

RACHEL GIBSON: Well, then I'll send the gift.

BIANCA: No, Rach. Just leave it alone.


BIANCA: Later I went to look for it and I couldn't find it. She must be taking it to him.

VIVIAN: You were leaving, so she wanted to win you back.

BIANCA: Oh, my god. What if my father did something to her?

SAMANTHA: (confused) Like what? What, what would he do?

BIANCA: Well, when I was sixteen, I changed my last name from Marcello to Stone.

VIVIAN: As in, Boss Sal Marcello?

BIANCA: Well, if you meet him he prefers Don Sal Marcello. He thinks "boss" is a little white-collar.

VIVIAN: I'll bear that in mind.




[caption: 15 HOURS MISSING]

[Ext: deli/olive oil shop - night]

(ELENA meets up with VIVIAN and SAMANTHA as they get out of their car outside the shop.)



ELENA: So, Organized Crime has two addresses for Marcello. This is the closest one to where Rachel was dropped.

VIVIAN: Family olive oil business? You've got to be kidding me.

ELENA: He's got to make a buck.

SAMANTHA: At least he's not in waste management.


[Int: deli/olive oil shop - continuous]

(VIVIAN, ELENA, and SAMANTHA enter the shop and are stopped by several of SAL MARCELLO's thugs.)

THUG: What is this? Charlie's Angels?

VIVIAN: I'm Special Agent Johnson. This is Special Agent Spade and Special Agent Delgado.

THUG: Well, isn't that special? You got a warrant in your pocket, toots?

VIVIAN: You got an unlicensed firearm in that jacket?

THUG: Well, let's all frisk each other and see what we can find.

SAMANTHA: We need to speak to Mr. Marcello.

THUG: He's in the middle of something.

SAL MARCELLO: (o.s.) I'm done.

(The thug shrugs his shoulders and shows the three agents into a back room.)


[Int: deli/olive oil shop - back room - continuous]

(SAL MARCELLO sits at his desk. He watches the three women enter with raised eyebrows.)

SAMANTHA: Mr. Marcello. We're looking for a woman by the name of Rachel Gibson.

SAL MARCELLO: Can I get you something to drink?

ELENA: We're busy.

SAL MARCELLO: Too busy for espress?

VIVIAN: I'll have a latte.

SAMANTHA: Cappucino.

ELENA: Double.

SAL MARCELLO: See? Now, that's better. Please.

(The thug goes to get the coffee, off a look from SAL. The three women sit.)

VIVIAN: We're still looking for Rachel Gibson.

SAL MARCELLO: Oh, I know who you're looking for. She came in at lunch.


[Int: deli/olive oil shop - back room - day]

(The thug shows RACHEL into the room. He drops RACHEL's gun onto SAL's desk.)


THUG: She says she knows Bianca.

SAL MARCELLO: What did I ever do to you?


SAL MARCELLO: No, I didn't think so.

(RACHEL pulls out the box from BIANCA and slides it across the desk.)

RACHEL GIBSON: Bianca wanted me to give you this. Happy Birthday.

SAL MARCELLO: My birthday? Ah, Bianca.

(SAL opens the box, inside which are a collection of flies for fly fishing.)

SAL MARCELLO: We used to fish a lot. Bianca better than all her brothers. I mean, she had the wrist for it. She... Huh, flies. (He trails off, then looks back up to RACHEL.) Sit. (she does) So why didn't she bring it herself?

RACHEL GIBSON: She was afraid you'd blow a gasket.

SAL MARCELLO: She's the one who left me. She announced she was a lesbian and she disappeared out that door. And I tried to understand. I tried. For weeks, I had that K.D., K.d., K.d.?


SAL MARCELLO: Lang! Stuck in my head.

RACHEL GIBSON: Well, that's not how she remembers it.

SAL MARCELLO: I waited a long time for my little girl to come home.

RACHEL GIBSON: If you miss her so much, why don't you swallow your pride and call her?

SAL MARCELLO: It's ballsy for you to show up here.

RACHEL GIBSON: All I'm saying is that your daughter is this sweet, amazing person.

SAL MARCELLO: Why are you here? You never leave the house.

RACHEL GIBSON: How do you know that?

SAL MARCELLO: Uh-huh. You like her, don't you?

RACHEL GIBSON: I don't have to tell you that.

SAL MARCELLO: Oh, yeah. Are you banging my daughter?


SAL MARCELLO: Good, because I don't want my daughter with anybody who can't get their ass out of the house except for special occasions. Now, get out. Get. Out.


VIVIAN: Did she say anything else?

THUG: When she first got here, she was freaking out. She kept going on and on about some bowling alley.

SAL MARCELLO: I assume that that means something to you nice ladies.

SAMANTHA: Yes, it does. We're not exactly sure what, but it does.


[caption: 17 HOURS MISSING]

[Int: Parkway Lanes bowling alley - night]

(DANNY and JACK walk into the bowling alley, where there are several police officers.)

DANNY: You notice that Bianca was trailing us in the blue SUV?

JACK: Yeah.

(JACK approaches the officer standing just inside the door. He flashes his badge.)

JACK: Malone and Taylor, FBI.

SEARGANT HAGGERT: Seargant Haggert, Garwood Police. She's in the number five lane.

DANNY: What do you mean, "in"?

SEARGANT HAGGERT: Sort of lying there.

JACK: What? Asleep, dead or drunk?

SEARGANT HAGGERT: None of the above. We asked her if she was okay, and she told us to leave.

(DANNY and JACK glance at each other. Ignoring Seargant Haggert, they do a quick round of rock-paper-scissors, which DANNY wins.)

DANNY: Ah, you're so predictable!

JACK: I knew you were going to do that.

(JACK walks off to deal with RACHEL.)

DANNY: It's an FBI thing.

SEARGANT HAGGERT: I can see that.


[Int: bowling alley - back of lanes - continuous]

(JACK walks down to the number five lane, where RACHEL is lying behind the pins. He crouches down next to her.)

JACK: Hi. How's everything going in there?

RACHEL GIBSON: Fine, thank you.

JACK: I'm Agent Malone from the FBI. You want to tell me what's going on?

RACHEL GIBSON: I just need to lay here six more hours and I'll be cured.

JACK: Just, just tell me what happened the night that Peter left.

(RACHEL glances at him in surprise that he knows who PETER is.)

JACK: Come on. I know everything, okay? I know about the convict, the laundry guy, the mobster. You know, for somebody who's been locked away in their apartment for two years, your life is a hell of a lot more interesting than mine.

RACHEL GIBSON: You don't know the half of it.

JACK: Then fill me in. I've still got to do the paperwork.

RACHEL GIBSON: I was waiting for PEter to come back and I was bowling.


[Int: Parkway Lanes Bowling Alley - night]

(The young RACHEL bowls, but her ball gets stuck in the gutter right next to the pins.)


(She carefully makes her way back along the lane and pushes the ball back, causing the pins to reset. RACHEL's jacket gets caught in the mechanism and she is pinned.)

RACHEL GIBSON: Help! Peter. Help!


RACHEL GIBSON: Eight hours I waited for Peter to come back here. I thought I was going to die.

JACK: You know what? Enough already. You're trespassing. Get out of there now.

RACHEL GIBSON: What is wrong with you?

JACK: We don't have enough time to discuss that subject. What is wrong with you?

RACHEL GIBSON: I'm an agoraphobic.

JACK: You live fifteen miles from here. You've got to be the world's worst agoraphobic. Look, the only reason that you're laying here is that you don't know how to tell your girlfriend that you like her.

RACHEL GIBSON: I've never been a lesbian. I don't know what to do.

JACK: I've never been a lesbian either. Though I did have this dream once... That's a different subject. Look, I can't help you, okay? But I have a feeling that you'll be able to figure this out. Come on. Come out of there.

(RACHEL stares at him for a moment, then takes a deep breath and climbs out of the lane.)


[Int: Parkway Lanes Bowling Alley - continuous]

(JACK walks RACHEL back into the front of the bowling alley and over to the police officers.)

(BIANCA, who is standing with the officers, sees her and runs over.)

BIANCA: Rachel? Rach? You left your apartment.


BIANCA: For me?

RACHEL GIBSON: Can I go home now?

BIANCA: Ha. No. No.

(As BIANCA hugs her, they hear a voice.)

SAL MARCELLO: Step aside.

(SAL is trying to make his way past the officers.)

OFFICER: Sir, you'll have to stay back.

JACK: Let him through.


(SAL walks over to his daughter and pulls her into a hug. RACHEL watches this from a distance. SAL glances up, then pulls RACHEL into the same hug.)

(JACK raises his eyebrows at this, then puts his hands in his pockets and walks over towards DANNY. As he passes SAL MARCELLO, he nods.)

JACK: Hey.


(A man steps up to JACK. This is JOE HILL, the owner of the bowling alley.)

JACK: You Joe? You can open up the lanes.

(DANNY joins JACK where stands, observing the scene.)

DANNY: We're morbid, Jack.

JACK: Why's that?

DANNY: Well, unless something really bad is happening to somebody, it just doesn't feel like a day at the office.

JACK: Yeah, well, I'll have you know that underneath this black suit lies an eternal optimist.

DANNY: Hmm. All I'm saying is, it's a nice change.

JACK: At least nobody died.

(JACK leans over to one of the little jukeboxes sitting on the tables near the bar. DEAN MARTIN's "That Amore" begins playing, as JACK and DANNY sing along.)

JACK: Let's get out of here.

(DANNY grins at JACK. They turn and leave the bowling alley.)

(As the song continues to play, the mobsters bowl alongside the police officers. BIANCA leans over and kisses RACHEL.)

(DANNY and JACK stop at the door of the bowling alley and survey the scene. DANNY shakes his head and walks out the door.)

(JACK pulls the blue tie out of his pocket and drapes it over his shoulders. He smiles to himself, then follows DANNY out the door.)



Kikavu ?

Au total, 27 membres ont visionné cet épisode ! Ci-dessous les derniers à l'avoir vu...

08.02.2021 vers 12h

21.10.2019 vers 20h

24.08.2018 vers 22h

05.02.2018 vers 17h

31.10.2016 vers 18h

04.10.2016 vers 20h

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schumi  (24.08.2018 à 22:30)
Original cet épisode où il n'y a pas de délits finalement. C'est assez léger il y a des moments drôles... c'est différent des épisodes habituels mais ça marche!


Merci aux 2 rédacteurs qui ont contribué à la rédaction de cette fiche épisode

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