- Molly. - Hey.
Sure I can't give you a ride home?
Oh, thanks, Boone. Alex is picking me up.
But it's nice of you to ask.
Well, it's late.
It's cold.
You think it's a good idea for you to wait out here alone?
- I could wait with you. - I'll be fine.
Good night, Molly.
Good night, Boone.
- Hey, Alex. Thanks. - No problem.
Alex, take it slow tonight?
Why?
I don't know. It's late. I'm not as alert as I'd like to be.
You're a passenger, Mol. How alert do you have to be?
What's he doing?
Winking.
He's getting over.
Alex!
Are you all right?
Shit.
Molly.
- Are you all right? - Yeah?
Stay here.
I'll go get help.
Hey!
Hey! Hey!
Hey, damn it, we need help!
No! No!
No, please!
Alex!
Come back here!
...possible hit and run,
Multiple-T.I. Accident with kill injuries.
Officer on scene not involved.
Hold it. Hold it right there.
Tunnel's closed. This is an emergency lane.
Will Macklin, traffic investigator.
Okay.
T.I. Coming through.
Clear a path, guys.
Come on, get jumping.
You're good. Go ahead.
Hey, Jimmy.
Bill.
- What happened? - We got a mess.
Come on, you remember how it was...
it's great to be young and stupid on a Saturday night.
We've got 3 vehicles, 4 bodies,
nothing ticking but their watches.
White female, early 20s.
Talk about a hard-on.
You have a filthy mind, Jimmy.
You ought to transfer to vice.
Okay, move it back.
There's a concrete post!
We'll have to go low.
Horse trailer must have gone down first.
That's how the animal's walking. Then this baby comes along. Splat!
First on the scene was that guy over there with the dogs,
but he didn't call it in.
Who did?
Wouldn't leave his name. Came in on channel 9.
- 9? C.B.? - Yeah.
- People still use 'em? - 10-4.
Hey!
This look like a souvenir shop?
Hey... hey!
Hey, we got a survivor here! Hey!
Hey, up here!
Let's go!
Somebody... get somebody over here!
Come in.
Molly?
Will Macklin, state traffic investigator.
She's already said everything she has to say.
Not to me.
It's okay.
- I'll be right outside. - Okay.
Please, sit.
You must feel that we don't do our job very well
for something like this to happen to you...
twice.
This isn't the same.
No, of course not.
The other was worse, I'd guess, losing your family like that.
I've seen it take down grown men.
You must have been a tough little girl.
I was just wondering...
What?
...if it wouldn't skew what you saw,
shade your thinking a little.
It shades my life.
So it's conceivable that you got things wrong?
He saw her.
He toyed with her.
He killed her,
and then he came after me.
Don't suppose you know anything about skid marks?
No.
Well, rubber on asphalt is like ink on paper.
Tires may not know how to spell,
but the marks they leave are a language, just the same.
And what do they say?
There were a lot of people in that tunnel trying to avoid one another.
One guy doing just the opposite.
It almost sounds like you believe me.
What are you gonna do about it?
Molly, I'm not a homicide detective.
I don't even carry a gun, just a measuring tape
and a pencil.
I never made an arrest in my life. Never shot anyone.
You said the vehicle was big.
American, maybe.
Old. Possibly green.
What else can you tell me about it?
Filthy.
Okay, let me start by confessing
that I've never actually been in an accident,
but I know what you're thinking...
feeling.
You're saying to yourself, "Why me?"
Yes, well, it didn't just happen to you.
In America,
300 of us are seriously injured in a motor vehicle accident
every hour.
That's over 8,000 of us a day,
250,000 a month.
That's over 3 million a year.
50,000 of us die.
The person next to you, take their hand.
Take it.
Come on, take it.
That's it.
I want you to do something for me.
I want you to say,
"I am not alone."
Say it with me. "I am not alone."
Good. Again.
I am not alone.
What happened to me happened once.
Pardon?
Not 8,000 times a day. One time.
I understand what you're feeling.
Excuse me.
Okay, see? That's what happens when we put up the barricades.
Sorry.
About what?
About whatever brought you here.
How did yours happen?
Hit and run.
Me too.
Did they catch the person?
No, they didn't.
I have to be somewhere.
Can I give you a ride?
Somebody's meeting me.
What about later?
It's kind of a bad time.
I didn't say we'd enjoy ourselves.
You promise?
We'll be pitiful.
I'll be back next week, and if you're here, then we'll see.
Wasn't an accident, Molly.
He knew what he was doing.
What are you talking about?
He drives a 1972 Cadillac El Dorado, pepper green.
I believe you know the car.
If you know something about what happened to me,
take it to the police.
They can't help us.
You don't think I've tried that before?
No police.
Did he take something of yours?
What do you mean?
Are you missing something, something to remember you by?
He always takes a souvenir.
He took my picture.
If I can find you, so can he.
He's coming back, Molly.
You're his only mistake.
11:00, Orchestra Hall.
I think you and I had better talk.
Hey! Son of a bitch! Damn!
This is traffic unit 48.
I've got a pursuit, could use some backup.
- Identify yourself. - Macklin.
Who?
Will Macklin, Traffic Investigations.
Stand by.
Shit!
Never mind.
The tunnel's coming up. Maybe we should go around.
Let's go around.
Thanks, Boone.
Boone!
Boone.
Boone, can you move?
Boone! Boone!
No!
No! Hold it!
Come on!
Grab my hand!
Look at me! Look at me!
- Now! - No!
Cray.
You want another shot at me?
Have the girl out here tomorrow night.
It's simple.
I want her. You want me.
Use her.
- We'll be here. - Very good.
Another 100,000 miles of this, and you'll be
just like me.
Let me out. I have to help my friend.
Molly, your friend's dead,
and like I said before, no police.
Any sign of the girl?
Nada.
The guy in the Barracuda?
Well, his plates were stolen 3 weeks ago in Indiana, and...
What?
He's missing a door.
Please.
What do you want with me?
You're not seriously considering going back out there.
I'm not considering. We'll be there.
No, we won't.
I am not getting back in that car.
What happened to you?
He killed someone close to you, didn't he?
Who did he run down?
Stop!
Am I gonna die?
My wife.
He ran over my wife.
He always takes a souvenir?
He convinced them it was an accident.
That she was standing in the road.
That he ran because I went after him.
I did 3 years...
and he spent the next 18 months in the hospital.
They rebuilt him from the ground up.
Then one day his bed was empty.
Month later, I got the first of I don't know how many letters.
Press clippings of his accidents.
From all over the map. Totally random.
Just like yours.
Most of them recent.
Most?
He'd been doing this for a while.
9 women. 3 before Olivia.
Why didn't you tell the police?
I did.
But they're just hit-and-runs to the police,
and usually a thousand miles apart.
They don't have the imagination to link them to one man.
Did you mean to hit him?
I didn't know much about driving back then.
You know, it's basic obstacle avoidance.
You're not supposed to look at the thing that you're trying to avoid
or you'll drive right into it.
All I know is...
I was looking at him.
That door get over here yet?
Door?
Oh, yeah. You mean the '68. Sure.
Check this out.
"For use in supervised acceleration trials.
Not intended for highway use."
Barracuda, Super Stock 426, heavy package.
Only about 50, 60 ever shipped.
The body's been acid-dipped, for weight.
Check this out.
There's no sound deadener.
It's not what you'd call street legal.
Put her on a drag strip, she'll lay down some serious rubber.
Man, I'd love to get my hands on the rest of her.
Yeah, so would I.
Something else.
Look at the tiny magnet on that thing.
It's not for voice only...
scanner, 2-way radio, C.B., stuff like that.
That mean something to you?
Maybe.
Someone I'm looking for uses a C.B.
Well, congratulations.
You've arrested his door.
Wally, can you hook me up with a C.B.?
Yeah, I got a nice little 40-channel number,
single side band, voice lock, dynamic squelch.
How's that grab you?
If that's a C.B., I'll take it.
You've done this before.
A long time ago.
You're a doctor?
It's just what I was.
Here's a... shirt.
And...
some other things, if you need 'em.
Thank you.
Could you turn around?
So, what was he before all of this?
Insurance.
He worked out of a little bungalow in Oakland.
Mostly automobile coverage.
Dealing with smashups all day
could be where he picked up a taste for it.
Definitely where he learned how to get away with it.
It happened to you, too.
A car did that.
When you were a kid.
Who was driving, your mom or your dad?
Dad.
Did he make it?
What about your mom?
I can't drive because of it.
Can't get over the fear that I'll screw up
and make another little girl an orphan.
We have a lot in common, you and me.
I can't go out there again.
He disappears for 3, 4 months at a time.
I'd have to start over again.
I can't do it.
He'd be halfway across the country right now if it weren't for you.
Molly, he killed 2 of your friends
without so much as getting a speeding ticket.
- I know what he did. - Then help me.
I can't.
There's something I can't do, either.
I can't let you go.
- Will. - I'm here.
Okay. There are only 25 heavy Barracudas still registered.
One model matching description.
Owner of record. Cray, Renford James.
Did 3 years for aggravated assault.
Guess what he used for a weapon.
His car.
Cray.
Are you there?
I was thinking of heading out west after this one.
Try our luck on one of the super slabs,
The I-10. Maybe the 70, past all those Pizza Huts.
7-Elevens. K-Marts, all those chain cities.
And all those girls.
You know,
she takes a pretty good picture, our Molly.
I wonder if she's thinking of me as much as I'm thinking of her.
You should let me finish her, Cray.
You know I'm going to.
Sooner, later...
with you, without you.
You know what the head shrinkers call this?
Exposure therapy.
I know.
When the body's doing something it doesn't want to do...
it tightens up.
You lose feeling in your hands, your legs.
You can't steer.
You can't shift.
Turn the key.
Is that him?
No. His headlights are like his eyes.
Only one works.
His body is his car.
Stop his car, stop him.
All we have to do is husk the slug right out of his shell.
What?
I'm not sure.
Listen.
Cray, do you have her? Is she with you?
Yeah, She's here.
He's coming.
Shit!
God damn!
Rennie!
Renford James Cray!
Kill the engine.
Listen to me carefully, 'cause I only have time to say this once.
The fellow you're after drives a '72 Cadillac El Dorado.
He's got a 2-minute head start.
Step out of my way, I make that time up no problem.
- Turn it off. - 3-minute head start.
I said turn it off!
The only way I'm gonna find out what's going on is to keep...
- one of you off the road... - Move!
long enough to fill me in!
Cray, pick up.
Pick up, Cray.
I know you're there.
Is she still alive?
I'm not sure.
Just tell me!
Let me check.
No! Rennie! No!
Fargo!
Fargo.
Would someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?
Yeah. First help me find a radiator.
Do you have any idea where we're going,
or you just driving?
Been tracking him for 2 years.
Yeah, I have some idea.
You're just driving.
He prefers major highways.
See, he likes to speed.
With fall coming, he'll stick pretty much
to the western/southwestern states.
He has a 6th sense for hick towns with speed traps
and manages to avoid them.
He loves tunnels, drive-thru restaurants.
He hates drawbridges,
will go miles out of his way to avoid one.
Used to stop for repairs, too,
but he's gotten pretty good at taking care of that himself.
You can patch a punctured lung just as easily as a flat tire.
Why does he do it?
He just does it. Isn't that enough?
No, man. If I'm supposed to help, I need to know more.
His father had a little auto insurance business.
He used to show his kid wreck photos.
Bodies, smashed faces, decapitations.
Kid collected them, and he went to work for his father.
Soon that wasn't enough.
He started creating his own pictures with the accidents he caused.
Why Molly? I mean, how does he choose these women?
It's completely random.
He drives for hours, playing out different scenarios in his head
until he has to act, then he just looks for an opportunity.
You know, an empty highway or...
a woman by herself.
So, a killer who leaves no fingerprints,
no DNA,
and he drives off in the murder weapon.
And only you know about it.
And you.
Have you ever seen him? Up close, I mean.
Twice.
Last night.
5 years ago.
The day he killed my wife.
He looked exactly like what he was...
a middle-aged insurance salesman
that no one would pay attention to.
Ordinary face.
Forgettable.
Except you can't forget it.
Let me tell you something.
Outside that Caddie, he is nothing.
You separate the mind from the machine...
And what?
You can go home.
What?
Not sure. Something.
It's morphine sulfate.
She's alive.
I don't understand. How can you tell?
That's what he's telling us.
He's also telling us where he's taken her.
Where?
About 400 miles or so...
across a couple of states.
It's where he's gonna kill her.
You know where we are?
I got it for a good price.
Insurance money.
You know what that is?
There's a lot of me still in that car.
If you look close, you can see bone.
Check the glove box.
Pictures.
This your wife?
Keep looking.
There. That one.
It was taken the day he killed her.
For revenge, he's gonna do it again.
There's one thing about me Fargo's always depended on.
What's that?
I'd come alone.
He'll be expecting me.
Won't be expecting you.
Is there a REACT unit monitoring this channel?
This is a police emergency.
I'm at a motel somewhere near the state line.
Towers Motel.
Anyone. Anyo...
I need to be sure of something.
You've been on this highway a long time,
and that can change a man.
I need to be sure that when the time comes, you can change back.
What are you asking?
We're here to save a life, not commit homicide.
Right?
Right there is good, Cray!
- Rennie! - I said there!
Go. Go.
Who are you supposed to be?
Will Macklin.
State traffic investigator.