Post by cellogal on Jul 29, 2008 15:22:44 GMT -5
January 13, 1979
It seems we’re at a party, with The Emotions’ “The Best Of My Love” in the background, people chatting, and one guy in particular, who looks a bit like Disco Stu minus the fro, cheesily sauntering through the room and checking out all the ladies. He tells one in particular to “shake it,” she glares at him and keeps walking with her friend, who’s talking about how she just finished “The Feminine Mystique.” She doesn’t get it, she says, since she’s not some kind of man hater. “’Cause there’s so much to love,” the friend, Alison, chuckles sarcastically as the camera pans to the men, who are generally acting like the Neanderthals that the book claims they are. Alison sighs in disgust and sits down, and her friend announces that she’s proud being a housewife and a mother, and she doesn’t hate her life. Alison argues that hating your life isn’t Betty Friedan’s point, it’s loving it. She asks her friend, Libby, if she loves her life. Libby doesn’t answer.
A blonde bimbo saunters through the room, carrying a bowl and announcing that it’s the last chance for keys; if they don’t put them in the bowl, she can’t pick them! Disco Stu echoes his wife’s sentiments, announcing drunkenly that it’s time to get real free and real naked. Not just kind of naked, folks. REAL naked. People gleefully deposit their keys in the bowl, and Alison drily comments to Libby that that’s women’s lib for her. Libby asks what’s going on, and Alison expresses shock that Carl didn’t tell Libby. She then drops the bomb: it’s a key party. “Everyone’s doin’ it,” she says cynically. Libby, shocked, insists that it’s not everyone, then storms through the room looking for Carl. She finds him and suggests that they go home; he protests that they just got here, she insists that she wants to go home. Carl tells Libby to loosen up and get herself a drink, and Libby realizes that he knew about this. Carl’s defense is that he promised Joe he’d play; it’s something Joe heard about in California. Well, if you can’t trust Californians, then who CAN you trust? Libby points out that they live in Pennsylvania, and Carl protests that it’s just a game. Libby reminds him that, when Joe got home, he left his wife for a 23-year-old stewardess, presumably the giggly blonde with the key bowl, and insists that it’s not just a game. Carl, demonstrating the sort of tact and sensitivity that no doubt led to the “man-hating feminist” segment of the movement, tells Libby to take a cab, because he’s staying. “God knows it’s been a frigid winter,” he remarks. Charming, this one.
Key Hussy informs everyone that it’s time to pick the keys, with an absolutely nauseating pep talk to the ladies wherein they pick the guy’s keychain, and he sticks his key in her ignition. Blecchh. The partygoers laugh and applaud, and she asks who’s going to kick things off. Libby announces softly that she will, and all of a sudden, Carl doesn’t seem quite so thrilled with this idea. She fishes in the bowl and pulls out a smiley-face keychain, tentatively asking who the lucky macho man is.
Woods. Doesn’t look like much luck was had here, as Libby lies dead in a clearing. We hear a girl’s voice yelling for her mother, and an African-American detective tells his partner that he hates this part. The girl runs up to the scene, and the cop intercepts her and tells her she has to step back. She cries hysterically on his shoulder, and he gently tells her to breathe, and that she’ll be all right. He then tells her to find the person who did this. “You will?” the girl says. “Yeah,” he replies. “I promise.” She looks at him for a minute, then goes back to sobbing on his shoulder.
Our friend the detective carries Libby’s evidence box to the warehouse, puts it on the shelf, and shakes his head sadly.
Present Day
Same woods. Holy mother of snap…that young cop was Jeffries! He stands there staring at the clearing as Lilly and Vera come up, Lilly telling him that they got there as fast as they could, and Vera complaining that he’s missing his beauty sleep, so it better be good. Heh. Jeffries tells them that some kids were camping out, having some sort of Blair Witch scare-fest, looking for a ghost. “As in Casper The Friendly?” Vera asks. “Libby Bradley,” Jeffries replies, then explains that she was stabbed to death in these woods in 1979, and kids have been calling the place haunted ever since. Lilly asks what they found, and Jeffries tells her they found a ski jacket stuffed in a tree trunk; he theorizes that the doer must have dumped it, and the amount of blood looks like a stabbing. He continues, saying that the jacket was found half a mile from where the body was dumped, then tells them that he called the daughter to ID it. Vera’s incredulous that Jeffries called a family member at 2:00 AM over a jacket, but Jeffries says she’s been calling him for 27 years. Lilly surmises that Jeffries worked the job, and Jeffries tells her that he made a promise he couldn’t keep, a rookie mistake.
The girl from earlier, whose name is Helen, jogs up to the scene, and Jeffries introduces her to Lilly and Vera. She asks if he found something, and he tells her about the jacket. She instantly recognizes it, saying her mother used to call it her “bumblebee” jacket because of the black stripe. Jeffries shows her the smiley face keychain, saying they found this in the pocket, and Helen says that doesn’t make sense: the car keys couldn’t be hers, because Libby didn’t know how to drive.
Credits.
Evidence warehouse. Scotty informs us all that the blood on the jacket has been IDed as Libby Bradley’s, and Jeffries explains that the theory in 1979 was a mugging gone wrong, since lots of transients were in those woods at the time. Lilly asks about evidence of sexual assault; there wasn’t any, but Jeffries wonders why she wasn’t dressed for the cold, since it was the dead of winter. Lilly theorizes that the doer must have lifted Libby’s jacket. Scotty asks about the murder weapon; Jeffries says they never IDed it, but the cause of death was a puncture wound to the left lung, and she drowned on her own blood. Lilly reads that Libby’s husband and daughter were the last to see her before they left for work and school, and Scotty says the time of death was estimated at 2:00 PM; Carl was at work, and his alibi checked out. Jeffries says the Bradleys are “real stand-up people,” telling them that Helen sends him a card every year on her mother’s birthday, just not this year. Scotty sympathizes, saying it’s tough to hold on and keep believing, but Jeffries says he never forgot.
Vera arrives then with the news that the key was for a 1975 Cadillac El Dorado. Jeffries takes the key from him and points out that transients don’t drive Cadillacs, leaving Lilly to conclude that the doer was close to home, from the same social circle. Jeffries suggests talking to Carl, and Vera informs Scotty that Stillman needs him.
Stillman’s office, where Stillman introduces Scotty to a rather pinched-looking woman with bad hair, also known as ADA Thomas. Hey, what happened to ADA Cage? I liked him. This one hasn’t said a word yet and she already grates. She tells Scotty she heard him on the stand a few months back and was impressed; he thanks her, then asks what’s up. ADA Thomas tells him that her sole witness in the Fitzpatrick molestation trial committed suicide, and Scotty realizes she’s talking about Jimmy Donohue, who he knew from the old neighborhood. He asks her when it happened, and she tells him it was yesterday; he hung himself. Jeez, lady…a little tact, maybe? To her credit, she realizes that Scotty knew the guy and apologizes, then tells him she doesn’t pull punches, and he retorts that she doesn’t need to. Stillman says that the bottom line is that Fitzpatrick will walk, since no one else is willing to come forward. “Unless your brother does,” ADA Thomas points out helpfully. Wow. No punches indeed. Scotty says he already talked to Mike; no dice. In what I can only assume is an attempt to summon some sort of human emotion, ADA Thomas tells him that it’s tough when it’s family. Scotty’s not sure what she means; she tells him she’s seen him on the stand, working that magic, and this better not be her cyborg-like attempt to hit on him. Scotty just tells her that he’s not his brother’s keeper. “But you are a cop, right?” she reminds him. Oooh. Score one for the cyborg. Nobody answers, and she leaves, telling them they know where they can reach her. She leaves, and Scotty stands there, brooding. Pensively, of course.
Carl’s office. Jeffries informs him that they have new evidence in Libby’s murder, and Kat tells him that kids in the woods found her ski jacket, with keys in the pocket. “For a Cadillac,” Jeffries says icily. “Wondering if you might know something about it.” Carl sits down and says he doesn’t know what to say. Jeffries reminds him that Helen wants answers, and he assumes Carl does, too. Carl says that they have to understand that it was the seventies; they didn’t always behave like that, they had families, and were decent people. Kat orders him to talk about the keychain, and Carl says that Libby picked it. Jeffries isn’t sure what Carl means, and he explains that it was a key party.
Key party, where we’re still listening to “Best of My Love.” Libby holds up the key and asks who’s the lucky macho man, and a guy guesses that’d be him. The crowd proclaims this far-out, and Disco Stu Lite loves the fact that the man of the house goes home with the foxiest lady at the party. The guy, who is presumably Alison’s husband, bumps into her on his way to Libby, and she sarcastically calls him “Honey Bunny” and tells him not to let her get in the way. Blechh. Disco Stu Lite tells his wife, whom he calls Hot Pants, to pick next, since he wants to know who’s grooving at their place tonight. Honey Bunny asks Libby if she’s sure about this; she doesn’t know. They start to walk away, but turn around to see that Hot Pants has picked Carl’s keys, much to his delight. Disco Stu Lite tells Carl to be easy on his wife. “Think you mean your second wife,” Carl responds smarmily, and this seems to make Libby’s decision for her. “I’ll just get my coat,” she says. He helps her slip it on, and then they spot a teenage boy in PJs standing in the hallway. Honey Bunny tells the boy he thought he was asleep; the boy replies that it’s hard to sleep in Studio 54. Heh. The boy, whose name is Jed, and Libby awkwardly greet each other, and then Honey Bunny tells her he’s ready if she is. He uncomfortably wishes his son a good night, and heads out with Libby.
Kat and Jeffries surmise that Libby and Honey Bunny (real name: Bill) left together, and two months later, Libby was dead, with his keys in her pocket. Carl laments that he started this by taking Libby to that key party. Ummmm, yeah. He kind of did. Jeffries isn’t as snarky as I am, though, merely suggesting that maybe Bill finished it.
Golf course. Bill’s lining up his shot while his buddies watch and murmur encouragement, and just as Bill takes his swing, Vera loudly asks if he’s Bill Huxley. Heeeeee. Bill’s not thrilled about having his shot ruined, and as Vera and Lilly approach and introduce themselves, he informs them that this is a members-only establishment. Yeah, like that’s gonna stop cops. “So’s Police Headquarters,” Vera replies. “How ‘bout we chat down there instead?” Man, I love Vera right now. Bill’s buddies take off, and he tells them he’ll catch up with them on the next hole. Lilly asks Bill if he remembers Libby Bradley, stabbed to death in ’79. Bill protests that that was a lifetime ago, and Vera agrees that it may be for some, but for others, it still feels like yesterday. Wow, Vera is just bringing the awesome in this scene. Lilly asks if there was something going on between Bill and Libby, and he denies it, saying they just knew each other from the neighborhood. Lilly asks about the key party. “Oh, that,” Bill says. “Yeah. That.” Vera snaps. Bill says that it was just one night, and Lilly doesn’t quite believe him, since his car keys were in Libby’s pocket the night she died. Vera pulls out the handcuffs, suggesting that sitting in a cell for a few hours will jog Bill’s memory, and Bill finally admits that it wasn’t just a one-night stand: they had something special.
Bedroom. Accompanied by Dr. Hook’s “Sharing The Night Together,” Libby tells Bill she’s never done this before, and Bill reluctantly admits that he hasn’t, either, then guesses that they should just take off their clothes. Libby agrees uncomfortably, and they turn their backs and strip down to their skivvies, after which Bill looks Libby up and down and tells her she has a nice body. Libby shyly thanks him, and they sit down on the bed. Bill pulls the clip from Libby’s hair, and then asks her what’s wrong. She awkwardly tells him that she’s been with Carl since she was eighteen, and he’s the only man she’s ever been with. Bill reassures her by telling her that when everyone else was doing the whole sexual revolution thing, they were raising families. Libby says she got pregnant when she was 20, and Bill says Alison got pregnant at 21. Libby tells him she and Carl were just kids when they met, and they don’t have anything in common anymore, then theorizes that that’s why he cheats on her. Okay, I’m no man-hating feminist, but I am now a Carl-hating feminist. Bill informs Libby that he and Alison haven’t had sex for two-and-a-half years. Libby stares at him, and he apologizes, saying he’s telling her things she doesn’t want to hear. Well, I definitely don’t want to hear these things, if that counts. Libby says it’s fine, she just didn’t know that other people… “Yeah,” Bill agrees. She then asks Bill if he ever feels like they missed out on things, and he thinks maybe it’s not too late. He kisses her softly, they look at each other for a moment, and then continue kissing.
Vera snarkily asks Bill how Alison felt about his newfound soul mate, and Bill asks why he’s protecting her, since they’ve been divorced for 25 years. After the key party, he says, Alison took the angry cynical thing to a whole new level, becoming downright hostile. The Cadillac was the family car, he explains, but Alison was its main driver. “So the happy face keychain?” Lilly asks. “Wasn’t mine.” Bill replies. “It was hers,” Lilly concludes.
Yoga studio. Kat and Jeffries approach Alison, who realizes that they’re new there, and she knows just the class to open up their chakras. Heee. Jeffries replies that his chakras can wait; they’re here about Libby Bradley. Alison proclaims it a real tragedy that put them all into a tailspin, but Kat points out the silver lining: it put an end to Libby’s affair with Bill. Alison says she wasn’t happy Libby was banging Bill, but somebody had to do it. Kat realizes that Alison knew about the affair, and Jeffries thinks maybe she helped bring it to a close. Alison says she was too blitzed to get out of bed in the morning, never mind murder. Jeffries tells her Bill said she was angry, and Alison tells them Bill’s still an idiot. Well, she’s right there. She wasn’t angry, she says, she was depressed, popping “mother’s little helpers” by the fistful. “Self-medicating,” Kat realizes. “Bingo,” Alison replies, saying that no one ever talked about depression back then; they were just bored housewives. Kat asks why Libby had Alison’s car keys, and she doesn’t know, saying she wasn’t the one driving that boat.
Fondue party. Alison pops a pill as Bill proclaims Libby a stone fox, and she asks him if he thinks they can sneak out of there. Disco Stu Lite taps his glass and says that he and Julie have an announcement to make, and as…oh, jeez, are Helen and Jed actually WAITING on their “parents?” They’re wearing aprons and everything. This episode has a Nausea Factor unlike any I’ve ever seen. Anyway, Hot Pants urges Disco Stu to make the announcement himself, since he’s “so dynamite with words.” He does so, telling them that the key party was a success, but that they don’t need a game to do what comes naturally, so they’ve decided to have an open marriage. Oh, yippee skip! The others react with cynical glances, and Helen asks if anyone wants pigs-in-a-blanket, announcing bitterly that they’re from a box: her mom’s specialty. Hee. Libby scolds her, and Helen bangs the bowl down on the table. Disco Stu continues, saying he and Hot Pants, whose name is actually Julie, are totally into it, and they think all the rest of them should be, too. Oh, like THAT’S going to make everything better. Julie waxes New Age for a moment, saying that their egos are liberated from the fear of their own id. Ummm, yeah. I’ll bet you that whole pot of cheese that Julie doesn’t have a clue what any of those words actually mean. Bill asks what they’re talking about, and Alison tells him that it means that “Mr. Puka Beads here gets to dip his fondue fork in all our pots,” then asks for Jed to pour her another drink. Heeeee. Jed’s impressed that Alison actually remembered his name. Puka Beads says that Alison is basically right, and Libby thinks maybe they should give it a try. Carl suggests that she ease up on those martinis, and Libby fires back her own suggestion that they quit pretending that their marriages mean anything. Um, hello? Your KIDS are, like, RIGHT THERE. I suggest you start saving up for their therapy bills, because BOY are they gonna need it. Puka Beads congratulates her, and Libby realizes that perhaps she has had a little too much to drink, then decides she should leave, since she’s really not feeling too hot. Carl sees right through this, telling her that she looks fine to him. Puka Beads agrees, saying she looks way too hot for a fifth grade teacher, and she insists she’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep. Bill suggests that Jed give Libby a ride home, and Jed strips off the apron and picks up the keys, leading Alison to b*tchily proclaim that there’ll be more cheese for the rest of them.
Alison says that the last time she saw those keys was the night her husband recruited their son to help with his affair; the whole “I’m not feeling well” routine was a ruse for the two to meet while the rest of them got hammered, and Jed was their personal chauffeur. WONDERFUL. Kat who is as appalled by this as I am, hopes Alison is kidding. Unfortunately, she’s not: her son was an innocent bystander. Jeffries asks her how she found out about this arrangement, and Alison says he was drugged, not brain-dead, then tells them to ask Jed, since his memory is a lot better than hers. Oh, I’ll bet it is.
Stillman’s office. Stillman tells Jed that chauffeuring his father’s mistress isn’t exactly an ideal childhood, and Jed agrees, then asks whose was. Lilly pipes up that Jed has a point, but Stillman continues, saying that not many fathers ask their kids to get involved like that. Lilly asks if it upset Jed, and Jed says he was a lonely kid, caught in nowhereland, and was happy to do it, because he got something out of it, too: a friend.
Car, where “Babe” by Styx plays. Jed calls Libby Mrs. Bradley, but she tells him to call her Libby, since she’s not that ancient. He continues, saying she was his favorite teacher in fifth grade, remembering all the stuff she taught them about astronomy and telling her that he’s totally into it now. Wait…teacher? I thought at the beginning she was a housewife. Anyway, Libby’s happy to hear it, and Jed says that there’s always something going on “out there,” since the universe is expanding, but here, it’s always the same. Libby says that here’s not that bad; Jed begs to differ. She tells him that he’s got his whole life ahead of him and can do anything he wants, then urges him to not wait until it’s too late. “Like you did?” he asks, and she uncomfortably realizes that he’s right. Jed then tells her that there’s an eclipse coming, a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and she says that’s true, they’re beautiful. He goes on to say that you can’t even look at them or you’ll go blind, but Libby tells him that you can with a pinhole camera. Jed remembers her showing them in class, but says that his fell apart. Libby says she help him make a new one, and as they pull up to the curb, Jed agrees, then offers to teach her to drive. She says it’s about time she learned, and he hands her the happy face keys, telling her to take her own set. Libby asks if he’s planning to walk home, and he says he’s got a spare set, which he pulls out of the glove box. He then tells her that he knows about her and his dad, and it’s cool, since his parents don’t really talk to each other. Libby tells Jed that Bill’s a special kind of guy. “Once in a lifetime?” he asks, and she agrees, then tells him she’ll see him soon and gets out of the car.
Jed says that once a week, he’d take Libby driving, and they’d talk about astronomy, leading Lilly to conclude that they got close. Stillman asks Jed if Libby ever mentioned someone she might be afraid of, and he says a few times, after their lessons, Jed would drop her at her house, and Joe Livingston (a/k/a Puka Beads) would be waiting for her. Lil asks if Joe was hot for Libby, and Jed says that it seemed that way; he was always there when Carl wasn’t around. Lil asks why he never mentioned that back in ’79, and Jed says that everyone said the murderer was a homeless person.
It seems we’re at a party, with The Emotions’ “The Best Of My Love” in the background, people chatting, and one guy in particular, who looks a bit like Disco Stu minus the fro, cheesily sauntering through the room and checking out all the ladies. He tells one in particular to “shake it,” she glares at him and keeps walking with her friend, who’s talking about how she just finished “The Feminine Mystique.” She doesn’t get it, she says, since she’s not some kind of man hater. “’Cause there’s so much to love,” the friend, Alison, chuckles sarcastically as the camera pans to the men, who are generally acting like the Neanderthals that the book claims they are. Alison sighs in disgust and sits down, and her friend announces that she’s proud being a housewife and a mother, and she doesn’t hate her life. Alison argues that hating your life isn’t Betty Friedan’s point, it’s loving it. She asks her friend, Libby, if she loves her life. Libby doesn’t answer.
A blonde bimbo saunters through the room, carrying a bowl and announcing that it’s the last chance for keys; if they don’t put them in the bowl, she can’t pick them! Disco Stu echoes his wife’s sentiments, announcing drunkenly that it’s time to get real free and real naked. Not just kind of naked, folks. REAL naked. People gleefully deposit their keys in the bowl, and Alison drily comments to Libby that that’s women’s lib for her. Libby asks what’s going on, and Alison expresses shock that Carl didn’t tell Libby. She then drops the bomb: it’s a key party. “Everyone’s doin’ it,” she says cynically. Libby, shocked, insists that it’s not everyone, then storms through the room looking for Carl. She finds him and suggests that they go home; he protests that they just got here, she insists that she wants to go home. Carl tells Libby to loosen up and get herself a drink, and Libby realizes that he knew about this. Carl’s defense is that he promised Joe he’d play; it’s something Joe heard about in California. Well, if you can’t trust Californians, then who CAN you trust? Libby points out that they live in Pennsylvania, and Carl protests that it’s just a game. Libby reminds him that, when Joe got home, he left his wife for a 23-year-old stewardess, presumably the giggly blonde with the key bowl, and insists that it’s not just a game. Carl, demonstrating the sort of tact and sensitivity that no doubt led to the “man-hating feminist” segment of the movement, tells Libby to take a cab, because he’s staying. “God knows it’s been a frigid winter,” he remarks. Charming, this one.
Key Hussy informs everyone that it’s time to pick the keys, with an absolutely nauseating pep talk to the ladies wherein they pick the guy’s keychain, and he sticks his key in her ignition. Blecchh. The partygoers laugh and applaud, and she asks who’s going to kick things off. Libby announces softly that she will, and all of a sudden, Carl doesn’t seem quite so thrilled with this idea. She fishes in the bowl and pulls out a smiley-face keychain, tentatively asking who the lucky macho man is.
Woods. Doesn’t look like much luck was had here, as Libby lies dead in a clearing. We hear a girl’s voice yelling for her mother, and an African-American detective tells his partner that he hates this part. The girl runs up to the scene, and the cop intercepts her and tells her she has to step back. She cries hysterically on his shoulder, and he gently tells her to breathe, and that she’ll be all right. He then tells her to find the person who did this. “You will?” the girl says. “Yeah,” he replies. “I promise.” She looks at him for a minute, then goes back to sobbing on his shoulder.
Our friend the detective carries Libby’s evidence box to the warehouse, puts it on the shelf, and shakes his head sadly.
Present Day
Same woods. Holy mother of snap…that young cop was Jeffries! He stands there staring at the clearing as Lilly and Vera come up, Lilly telling him that they got there as fast as they could, and Vera complaining that he’s missing his beauty sleep, so it better be good. Heh. Jeffries tells them that some kids were camping out, having some sort of Blair Witch scare-fest, looking for a ghost. “As in Casper The Friendly?” Vera asks. “Libby Bradley,” Jeffries replies, then explains that she was stabbed to death in these woods in 1979, and kids have been calling the place haunted ever since. Lilly asks what they found, and Jeffries tells her they found a ski jacket stuffed in a tree trunk; he theorizes that the doer must have dumped it, and the amount of blood looks like a stabbing. He continues, saying that the jacket was found half a mile from where the body was dumped, then tells them that he called the daughter to ID it. Vera’s incredulous that Jeffries called a family member at 2:00 AM over a jacket, but Jeffries says she’s been calling him for 27 years. Lilly surmises that Jeffries worked the job, and Jeffries tells her that he made a promise he couldn’t keep, a rookie mistake.
The girl from earlier, whose name is Helen, jogs up to the scene, and Jeffries introduces her to Lilly and Vera. She asks if he found something, and he tells her about the jacket. She instantly recognizes it, saying her mother used to call it her “bumblebee” jacket because of the black stripe. Jeffries shows her the smiley face keychain, saying they found this in the pocket, and Helen says that doesn’t make sense: the car keys couldn’t be hers, because Libby didn’t know how to drive.
Credits.
Evidence warehouse. Scotty informs us all that the blood on the jacket has been IDed as Libby Bradley’s, and Jeffries explains that the theory in 1979 was a mugging gone wrong, since lots of transients were in those woods at the time. Lilly asks about evidence of sexual assault; there wasn’t any, but Jeffries wonders why she wasn’t dressed for the cold, since it was the dead of winter. Lilly theorizes that the doer must have lifted Libby’s jacket. Scotty asks about the murder weapon; Jeffries says they never IDed it, but the cause of death was a puncture wound to the left lung, and she drowned on her own blood. Lilly reads that Libby’s husband and daughter were the last to see her before they left for work and school, and Scotty says the time of death was estimated at 2:00 PM; Carl was at work, and his alibi checked out. Jeffries says the Bradleys are “real stand-up people,” telling them that Helen sends him a card every year on her mother’s birthday, just not this year. Scotty sympathizes, saying it’s tough to hold on and keep believing, but Jeffries says he never forgot.
Vera arrives then with the news that the key was for a 1975 Cadillac El Dorado. Jeffries takes the key from him and points out that transients don’t drive Cadillacs, leaving Lilly to conclude that the doer was close to home, from the same social circle. Jeffries suggests talking to Carl, and Vera informs Scotty that Stillman needs him.
Stillman’s office, where Stillman introduces Scotty to a rather pinched-looking woman with bad hair, also known as ADA Thomas. Hey, what happened to ADA Cage? I liked him. This one hasn’t said a word yet and she already grates. She tells Scotty she heard him on the stand a few months back and was impressed; he thanks her, then asks what’s up. ADA Thomas tells him that her sole witness in the Fitzpatrick molestation trial committed suicide, and Scotty realizes she’s talking about Jimmy Donohue, who he knew from the old neighborhood. He asks her when it happened, and she tells him it was yesterday; he hung himself. Jeez, lady…a little tact, maybe? To her credit, she realizes that Scotty knew the guy and apologizes, then tells him she doesn’t pull punches, and he retorts that she doesn’t need to. Stillman says that the bottom line is that Fitzpatrick will walk, since no one else is willing to come forward. “Unless your brother does,” ADA Thomas points out helpfully. Wow. No punches indeed. Scotty says he already talked to Mike; no dice. In what I can only assume is an attempt to summon some sort of human emotion, ADA Thomas tells him that it’s tough when it’s family. Scotty’s not sure what she means; she tells him she’s seen him on the stand, working that magic, and this better not be her cyborg-like attempt to hit on him. Scotty just tells her that he’s not his brother’s keeper. “But you are a cop, right?” she reminds him. Oooh. Score one for the cyborg. Nobody answers, and she leaves, telling them they know where they can reach her. She leaves, and Scotty stands there, brooding. Pensively, of course.
Carl’s office. Jeffries informs him that they have new evidence in Libby’s murder, and Kat tells him that kids in the woods found her ski jacket, with keys in the pocket. “For a Cadillac,” Jeffries says icily. “Wondering if you might know something about it.” Carl sits down and says he doesn’t know what to say. Jeffries reminds him that Helen wants answers, and he assumes Carl does, too. Carl says that they have to understand that it was the seventies; they didn’t always behave like that, they had families, and were decent people. Kat orders him to talk about the keychain, and Carl says that Libby picked it. Jeffries isn’t sure what Carl means, and he explains that it was a key party.
Key party, where we’re still listening to “Best of My Love.” Libby holds up the key and asks who’s the lucky macho man, and a guy guesses that’d be him. The crowd proclaims this far-out, and Disco Stu Lite loves the fact that the man of the house goes home with the foxiest lady at the party. The guy, who is presumably Alison’s husband, bumps into her on his way to Libby, and she sarcastically calls him “Honey Bunny” and tells him not to let her get in the way. Blechh. Disco Stu Lite tells his wife, whom he calls Hot Pants, to pick next, since he wants to know who’s grooving at their place tonight. Honey Bunny asks Libby if she’s sure about this; she doesn’t know. They start to walk away, but turn around to see that Hot Pants has picked Carl’s keys, much to his delight. Disco Stu Lite tells Carl to be easy on his wife. “Think you mean your second wife,” Carl responds smarmily, and this seems to make Libby’s decision for her. “I’ll just get my coat,” she says. He helps her slip it on, and then they spot a teenage boy in PJs standing in the hallway. Honey Bunny tells the boy he thought he was asleep; the boy replies that it’s hard to sleep in Studio 54. Heh. The boy, whose name is Jed, and Libby awkwardly greet each other, and then Honey Bunny tells her he’s ready if she is. He uncomfortably wishes his son a good night, and heads out with Libby.
Kat and Jeffries surmise that Libby and Honey Bunny (real name: Bill) left together, and two months later, Libby was dead, with his keys in her pocket. Carl laments that he started this by taking Libby to that key party. Ummmm, yeah. He kind of did. Jeffries isn’t as snarky as I am, though, merely suggesting that maybe Bill finished it.
Golf course. Bill’s lining up his shot while his buddies watch and murmur encouragement, and just as Bill takes his swing, Vera loudly asks if he’s Bill Huxley. Heeeeee. Bill’s not thrilled about having his shot ruined, and as Vera and Lilly approach and introduce themselves, he informs them that this is a members-only establishment. Yeah, like that’s gonna stop cops. “So’s Police Headquarters,” Vera replies. “How ‘bout we chat down there instead?” Man, I love Vera right now. Bill’s buddies take off, and he tells them he’ll catch up with them on the next hole. Lilly asks Bill if he remembers Libby Bradley, stabbed to death in ’79. Bill protests that that was a lifetime ago, and Vera agrees that it may be for some, but for others, it still feels like yesterday. Wow, Vera is just bringing the awesome in this scene. Lilly asks if there was something going on between Bill and Libby, and he denies it, saying they just knew each other from the neighborhood. Lilly asks about the key party. “Oh, that,” Bill says. “Yeah. That.” Vera snaps. Bill says that it was just one night, and Lilly doesn’t quite believe him, since his car keys were in Libby’s pocket the night she died. Vera pulls out the handcuffs, suggesting that sitting in a cell for a few hours will jog Bill’s memory, and Bill finally admits that it wasn’t just a one-night stand: they had something special.
Bedroom. Accompanied by Dr. Hook’s “Sharing The Night Together,” Libby tells Bill she’s never done this before, and Bill reluctantly admits that he hasn’t, either, then guesses that they should just take off their clothes. Libby agrees uncomfortably, and they turn their backs and strip down to their skivvies, after which Bill looks Libby up and down and tells her she has a nice body. Libby shyly thanks him, and they sit down on the bed. Bill pulls the clip from Libby’s hair, and then asks her what’s wrong. She awkwardly tells him that she’s been with Carl since she was eighteen, and he’s the only man she’s ever been with. Bill reassures her by telling her that when everyone else was doing the whole sexual revolution thing, they were raising families. Libby says she got pregnant when she was 20, and Bill says Alison got pregnant at 21. Libby tells him she and Carl were just kids when they met, and they don’t have anything in common anymore, then theorizes that that’s why he cheats on her. Okay, I’m no man-hating feminist, but I am now a Carl-hating feminist. Bill informs Libby that he and Alison haven’t had sex for two-and-a-half years. Libby stares at him, and he apologizes, saying he’s telling her things she doesn’t want to hear. Well, I definitely don’t want to hear these things, if that counts. Libby says it’s fine, she just didn’t know that other people… “Yeah,” Bill agrees. She then asks Bill if he ever feels like they missed out on things, and he thinks maybe it’s not too late. He kisses her softly, they look at each other for a moment, and then continue kissing.
Vera snarkily asks Bill how Alison felt about his newfound soul mate, and Bill asks why he’s protecting her, since they’ve been divorced for 25 years. After the key party, he says, Alison took the angry cynical thing to a whole new level, becoming downright hostile. The Cadillac was the family car, he explains, but Alison was its main driver. “So the happy face keychain?” Lilly asks. “Wasn’t mine.” Bill replies. “It was hers,” Lilly concludes.
Yoga studio. Kat and Jeffries approach Alison, who realizes that they’re new there, and she knows just the class to open up their chakras. Heee. Jeffries replies that his chakras can wait; they’re here about Libby Bradley. Alison proclaims it a real tragedy that put them all into a tailspin, but Kat points out the silver lining: it put an end to Libby’s affair with Bill. Alison says she wasn’t happy Libby was banging Bill, but somebody had to do it. Kat realizes that Alison knew about the affair, and Jeffries thinks maybe she helped bring it to a close. Alison says she was too blitzed to get out of bed in the morning, never mind murder. Jeffries tells her Bill said she was angry, and Alison tells them Bill’s still an idiot. Well, she’s right there. She wasn’t angry, she says, she was depressed, popping “mother’s little helpers” by the fistful. “Self-medicating,” Kat realizes. “Bingo,” Alison replies, saying that no one ever talked about depression back then; they were just bored housewives. Kat asks why Libby had Alison’s car keys, and she doesn’t know, saying she wasn’t the one driving that boat.
Fondue party. Alison pops a pill as Bill proclaims Libby a stone fox, and she asks him if he thinks they can sneak out of there. Disco Stu Lite taps his glass and says that he and Julie have an announcement to make, and as…oh, jeez, are Helen and Jed actually WAITING on their “parents?” They’re wearing aprons and everything. This episode has a Nausea Factor unlike any I’ve ever seen. Anyway, Hot Pants urges Disco Stu to make the announcement himself, since he’s “so dynamite with words.” He does so, telling them that the key party was a success, but that they don’t need a game to do what comes naturally, so they’ve decided to have an open marriage. Oh, yippee skip! The others react with cynical glances, and Helen asks if anyone wants pigs-in-a-blanket, announcing bitterly that they’re from a box: her mom’s specialty. Hee. Libby scolds her, and Helen bangs the bowl down on the table. Disco Stu continues, saying he and Hot Pants, whose name is actually Julie, are totally into it, and they think all the rest of them should be, too. Oh, like THAT’S going to make everything better. Julie waxes New Age for a moment, saying that their egos are liberated from the fear of their own id. Ummm, yeah. I’ll bet you that whole pot of cheese that Julie doesn’t have a clue what any of those words actually mean. Bill asks what they’re talking about, and Alison tells him that it means that “Mr. Puka Beads here gets to dip his fondue fork in all our pots,” then asks for Jed to pour her another drink. Heeeee. Jed’s impressed that Alison actually remembered his name. Puka Beads says that Alison is basically right, and Libby thinks maybe they should give it a try. Carl suggests that she ease up on those martinis, and Libby fires back her own suggestion that they quit pretending that their marriages mean anything. Um, hello? Your KIDS are, like, RIGHT THERE. I suggest you start saving up for their therapy bills, because BOY are they gonna need it. Puka Beads congratulates her, and Libby realizes that perhaps she has had a little too much to drink, then decides she should leave, since she’s really not feeling too hot. Carl sees right through this, telling her that she looks fine to him. Puka Beads agrees, saying she looks way too hot for a fifth grade teacher, and she insists she’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep. Bill suggests that Jed give Libby a ride home, and Jed strips off the apron and picks up the keys, leading Alison to b*tchily proclaim that there’ll be more cheese for the rest of them.
Alison says that the last time she saw those keys was the night her husband recruited their son to help with his affair; the whole “I’m not feeling well” routine was a ruse for the two to meet while the rest of them got hammered, and Jed was their personal chauffeur. WONDERFUL. Kat who is as appalled by this as I am, hopes Alison is kidding. Unfortunately, she’s not: her son was an innocent bystander. Jeffries asks her how she found out about this arrangement, and Alison says he was drugged, not brain-dead, then tells them to ask Jed, since his memory is a lot better than hers. Oh, I’ll bet it is.
Stillman’s office. Stillman tells Jed that chauffeuring his father’s mistress isn’t exactly an ideal childhood, and Jed agrees, then asks whose was. Lilly pipes up that Jed has a point, but Stillman continues, saying that not many fathers ask their kids to get involved like that. Lilly asks if it upset Jed, and Jed says he was a lonely kid, caught in nowhereland, and was happy to do it, because he got something out of it, too: a friend.
Car, where “Babe” by Styx plays. Jed calls Libby Mrs. Bradley, but she tells him to call her Libby, since she’s not that ancient. He continues, saying she was his favorite teacher in fifth grade, remembering all the stuff she taught them about astronomy and telling her that he’s totally into it now. Wait…teacher? I thought at the beginning she was a housewife. Anyway, Libby’s happy to hear it, and Jed says that there’s always something going on “out there,” since the universe is expanding, but here, it’s always the same. Libby says that here’s not that bad; Jed begs to differ. She tells him that he’s got his whole life ahead of him and can do anything he wants, then urges him to not wait until it’s too late. “Like you did?” he asks, and she uncomfortably realizes that he’s right. Jed then tells her that there’s an eclipse coming, a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and she says that’s true, they’re beautiful. He goes on to say that you can’t even look at them or you’ll go blind, but Libby tells him that you can with a pinhole camera. Jed remembers her showing them in class, but says that his fell apart. Libby says she help him make a new one, and as they pull up to the curb, Jed agrees, then offers to teach her to drive. She says it’s about time she learned, and he hands her the happy face keys, telling her to take her own set. Libby asks if he’s planning to walk home, and he says he’s got a spare set, which he pulls out of the glove box. He then tells her that he knows about her and his dad, and it’s cool, since his parents don’t really talk to each other. Libby tells Jed that Bill’s a special kind of guy. “Once in a lifetime?” he asks, and she agrees, then tells him she’ll see him soon and gets out of the car.
Jed says that once a week, he’d take Libby driving, and they’d talk about astronomy, leading Lilly to conclude that they got close. Stillman asks Jed if Libby ever mentioned someone she might be afraid of, and he says a few times, after their lessons, Jed would drop her at her house, and Joe Livingston (a/k/a Puka Beads) would be waiting for her. Lil asks if Joe was hot for Libby, and Jed says that it seemed that way; he was always there when Carl wasn’t around. Lil asks why he never mentioned that back in ’79, and Jed says that everyone said the murderer was a homeless person.
