- Hello?
Hey.
- Hey
- Tim, when you said come see me,
did you mean just stare at you or...?
- I got a call a few minutes ago.
- Okay.
- From cabin six.
- Goddammit, Tim.
What is it this time? Gremlins again?
Or zombie Elvis armed with pruning shears?
- You gotta hand it to 'em, Carrie.
Ben's nothing and not creative.
- Come on. I've been out on the lake all day.
I rode so much my arms are gonna fall off.
And I loaded 200 campers onto buses
and helped Deb clean the cabins.
It's my last summer.
Don't, don't make me do this right now.
What did Ben report?
- Dead body.
- Dead body in a campground?
Very original. Why can't Margie take it?
- Margie is in town on an errand.
- What errand?
- What's it matter? She's in town.
Besides, you know the rule,
Campers report any potentially harmful situations-
- Staff must investigate
to the best of their ability.
- Fine. Where's this body?
- Follow me.
- I don't see anybody. - Me neither.
- Great. Let's go.
- Wait, let's check up there
- Then check. I'm staying here.
- It'll take five minutes.
- Forget it. That thing's been closed up for weeks.
And Deb said Margie found a spider's nest in it.
- At least it's not rats. - I would prefer rats.
- Carrie, Margie's gonna wanna know
if we checked the pool house.
- Great. So I'll lie.
- You're lead counselor. It's your job.
Come on.
- What time did Ben call?
- What?
- You said Ben called in a dead body.
- Yeah. - What time?
- I told you already. - No you didn't.
What time did Ben call you?
- Earlier. - Earlier when?
- Why does it matter?
- You didn't get a call, did you?
- Oh my God. - I'm leaving.
- You're coming with me - Tim. Let me go.
Right now!
- Sorry. Can't do that.
- No, Tim, what are you, put me down!
Put, Help!
Tim, put me down.
Help!
Help! Somebody, help me!
Help!
Stop! This is not funny, Tim!
Put me down! Stop, stop!
- Surprise!
- What the shit!?
- And the Oscar goes to- - You asshole!
You shitty, shitty, asshole.
I really saw you were about to murder me.
- All right, Tim here can't get all the credit, Ms. Clark.
- Right. You want the real mastermind?
There he is.
- So I'm assuming there's no dead body.
- Nope, but give it a few more minutes
and we would've been reporting yours.
- Ha-ha. - But for real, Carrie,
we threw this together
'cause we wanted to say a proper goodbye.
Four years is a long time, but also no time at all.
And during that time, you become a true friend
to each and every one of us.
So we're pissed you're leaving
and since it's the last night of the summer,
we're here to party it up.
Oh yeah.
Because we love you kiddo.
To Carrie. - To Carrie!
- I love you guys too.
- Someone get this girl a drink.
She was almost butchered for crying out loud.
- Cheers. - Cheers.
- Chug, chug, chug, chug, chug!
Chug, chug, chug, chug, chug.
- Yeah!
- Ah!
- Somebody did get the spider's nest
outta here, right?
- Yeah, Margie had this place fumigated on Wednesday.
- Little bastards are dead and gone.
- Oh, maybe you should join them.
- What did I do?
- You've been scaring the shit
outta me all week about this place.
Ghosts, a hobo raising the devil.
- That does sound cool.
- Just be glad she didn't start spinning
that Skull Face shit at you.
- His name is Bone Face, Tim. And that story's true.
- Right.
Psycho running around the woods
with a mask on slashing up campers.
They made a movie about that, didn't they?
- A few. I think.
- Devil Hobo, Ghost or Skull Face.
It doesn't- - Bone Face.
- Whatever. - It was in the papers.
- Okay. I'm still pissed at you.
- Come on, girl.
I had to get you in the mood.
- I'm gonna miss you guys.
- Let's get some sleep, guys.
- Can somebody turn off the lights?
- Jesus, they're loud.
- Try sharing a cabin with the dumb broad.
Been hearing that shit all summer.
It's like a whole different language.
See that? That means faster in Gina talk.
- I'm gonna miss the hell outta you.
Right back at ya.
- Can you guys hush please?
- I'm not even gonna point out the irony.
- Okay. Goodnight. - Night, girl.
- Ah-
- What the fuck!? - Oh, fuck!
- Oh my God. Somebody help me!
Oh my God. Oh my God!
No!
Somebody help me, please!
No! Help me!
Help me.
- Margie, you gonna be okay?
- I don't think I can...
Oh my God.
- It's not easy to see. I know.
- It's not the sight, it's the smell.
Christ. The scene's almost identical.
- It ain't almost, it is.
It's like Camp Twin Pines.
- And Sunny Ridge. - Yeah.
- It's him. - Yes.
Sure as 10 dimes makes a dollar.
Why is she here so late, anyway?
- They were having a party.
She came out to check on them.
- Poor thing is never gonna sleep again.
- Sure hope I will.
- Heck, um, why don't we recheck the woods?
I wanna make sure we don't miss anything.
- All right. - All right.
I'm, uh, I'm really sorry Margie.
- What kind of monster,
I mean what animal could do something like this?
And God almighty, they were just babies.
- Yeah, look, I'm, uh,
I'm gonna have to ask you some questions.
- Now? - L- later.
But for now, I want you to just, you know, go home
and as insane as it sounds, just try to get you some rest.
Call you in the morning, okay?
- You find him.
Do you hear me, Vince Cronin?
You find the bastard.
- You bet your ass I will.
Tammy, come back. Tammy, you read,
- Go on ahead, Sheriff.
- Yeah, I'm, I'm gonna need you
to patch me through to the staties, hun.
- State dispatch. Go ahead.
- Yeah, this is Sheriff Vince Cronin.
I'm out at, uh, Camp Marigold.
I'm requesting assistance on a multiple homicide.
- How many dead?
- More than I care to count.
- Roger that, Sheriff.
We'll send the boys your way.
- Thank you.
Vince, you read me?
- Go ahead, Jo. - I got something.
- Vince. - We gotta keep going.
- What about the scene?
- We gotta let the staties take care of it.
Come on.
Oh.
Goddammit.
- Do you think a car?
- I don't see any tire tracks or oil marks.
- Could have flagged someone down.
- Yeah.
Even without that mask, he'd still be bloody as hell.
- Maybe he found some place to clean up.
- Check out under the cars and inside them.
- All right.
- Okay. So here are your straws.
- Okay. - Thank you.
- Should be out. - Thank you.
Oh, you have something in your...
Lemme just, here.
- Order up, Jenny!
Burger and fries for my old buddy, Four-Eyes.
- Uh, what's the story on that meatloaf?
- Well, I just put it in.
- Thank you.
- Hey, Sheriff. - Jenny.
- Be cool.
- So the meatloaf is on its way.
Is there anything else that I can get you guys?
- Um, we're good, thanks.
- Okay.
- Can I help you with something?
- Don't stare, hun.
- Hey, evening, Sheriff, Deputy.
- Mr. Doyle.
- Sheriff, I've been cooking you grub for a month.
Now you can call me Wes.
- Okay, Wes.
What y'all want? Y'all want a table or booth?
- Neither.
- Something wrong?
- Did anybody else come in here in the last hour or so?
- Not that I can recall.
I mean Jenny, you? - No.
- What about Sandy? She work tonight?
- She called in. It's just me.
- She was the only staff when I got here.
- Jake's still up in Missouri?
- He'll be back on Wednesday.
- What about you? What time did you get here today?
- Five.
- You take the bus in?
- I always do. You know that.
- What's going on, Sheriff?
- Look, you two seen anything strange tonight?
- Like what? - Outta, place.
Weird maybe.
Somebody suspicious? - Suspicious how?
- You know, just, somebody that's, uh, off.
Nervous. Maybe jumpy.
- Jumpy? Why?
- What's your name, little lady?
- Katy. - Katy...
- Howard.
- I'm Paul Howard, Sheriff. Katy's my daughter.
- You two from around here?
- Just passing through.
We're on our way home.
- From?
- Oh, vacation in New Orleans.
We're driving through the night back to Denver.
- No hotel?
- We're trying to make up for lost time.
Had a flat early today. - Flat?
- Yeah. Put us off our schedule.
- Your wife with you?
- I hope not. We're divorced.
- What time did you get here?
- Around 12:15? - 12:30, I think.
- It's 12:30. Saw 'em come in.
- And what time did you get here, Miss...?
- Neiman. Audrey Neiman.
Around nine.
- You've been here four hours?
- Mm-hmm.
- Are you a big chow hound, Audrey?
- Uh, she ordered at 12 and that's when Ray got here.
- Ray? - Brixton.
Unless I was switched at birth.
- Oh.
So what'd you do for the three hours before you ate?
- You press?
- Freelance.
- You're shooting pics at this place?
- Forest. Magazine hired me to do stock shots.
- What magazine?
- "Field & Meadow."
- Ah, so that's your white SUV out there then?
- That's right.
- You mind if we take a look at your, uh,
your pictures here, Miss Audrey.
- Why is that?
- Looking for a jumpy person.
- Did you take a peek at all of our cars, Sheriff?
- Yes we did.
I'm guessing that's your vintage job out there.
- Nadine Walsh.
45 years old, 5' 10", 118 pounds.
Eyes: blue, no convictions.
And I have been here since midnight.
- Exactly midnight? - Give or take.
- You. What's your name?
- Greg Meredith.
- You road crew, Mr. Meredith?
- Construction worker.
Been building that new bridge on I-35.
- You come straight here tonight?
- I took a piss first.
- You two, you own the motorcycles out there.
- Last name Tobin. First name, Mick.
- Charlie. Charlie Riggs.
They call me Rooster.
- Why Rooster?
- Because when the chickens are in the chicken house
and ol' Rooster comes along,
well I'll cock-a-doodle-doodle all night long.
- How long you been here?
- Hour or so.
- Pardon my tone, Sheriff.
Wasn't the time you told us what this is all about.
- Come on. Isn't it obvious?
They're looking for someone.
- And what is it you do again, Mr. Brixton?
- Projectionist. I run a machine at the Mack Theater.
- That's that midnight movie place.
Shows horror flicks.
- And exploitation. - Exploitation?
- you know, tits and guns, blood and guts,
stuff, stuff like that.
- Were you running the projector tonight?
- Shift ended 11:30. - And you came straight here?
- Yes, sir.
- You got a car out there in the parking lot?
- I walked. Always do.
- So you're a, you're a regular here then?
- You could say that.
So who you after, Sheriff?
- Him. We're after him.
- Keep everybody here.
- All right, I need a photo ID from each of you right now.
Okay then.
- Coffee, Deputy? - No, thank you.
- Thanks.
- You going to walk around here all night, darling?
'Cause them fine-looking legs of yours
are going to get shin splints.
- My legs are none of your concern, Mr. Riggs.
- Call me Rooster. All my chicks call me Rooster.
- Well, I'm not your chick.
And you call me Deputy McCully.
- Free country. Ain't it? - Last I heard, Mick, my boy.
Last I heard.
Ain't that right, Construction?
- Why are you asking me?
- Because you fought to keep this country free
unless that veteran sticker on the back of your truck
belongs to your old lady.
- You a vet?
- Yes ma'am.
- Army? - Marines.
- Nothing like a man in uniform except if he's out of it.
- You see combat? - Yeah, I saw combat.
- Where at?
- Gulf.
- Did you kill anybody in the Gulf?
Did I say something wrong?
- Yeah, that's a fucked up question to ask a veteran.
- You're bringing in the trash?
- Oh, my god.
- Which one of you is it!?
- Wait, wait, I'm sorry.
Are you saying those items belong to someone here?
- Are they yours?
- I don't even know what we are looking at.
- Are you kidding me, pops?
- Look at that mask.
It's Bone Face.
- Who? - The serial killer.
He murders kids.
- Not just kids. Campers.
- That's correct.
And he's more of a mass murderer
than a serial killer, actually.
- That's an odd thing to point out.
- Seconded.
- I'm a psych major at the university.
We're studying his case.
He's real old school.
I'm talking '80s slasher vibe, obviously.
- Why campers?
- Maybe he's not a nature lover.
- There's nothing to laugh at. He murdered 30 people.
- 32.
- 41.
- What? - Good lord.
- 13 at Camp Twin Pines,
19 at Camp Sunny Ridge,
and nine at Camp Marigold an hour ago.
- Jesus Christ.
- Not by a long shot.
- You all right, honey? - Everything okay?
- Marigold was my camp. I used to go there.
- Used to? You're damn lucky.
- My daughter did too.
- What's her name? - Amanda Doyle.
- No I don't, I don't remember her.
- Geez, look at that ax.
Can you imagine what it did to those campers?
I'm talking guts everywhere. Blood all over the walls.
I- - Hey!
Look, I saw those kids grow up
so you better watch your tongue.
You got it, young man?
- So we're to understand that you think
this Bone Face is one of us here in this diner?
- Oh, I don't think anything, Mr. Howard.
- Wait. So you find a mask in Mr. Doyle's trash.
That does not mean that one of us is a killer.
- Lady's right.
Who's to say he didn't have another outfit on,
dumped the bloody shit, kept on walking.
- He didn't.
- How can you be so sure?
- 'Cause by now, the state troopers,
they got all the roads blocked
and they have commenced a giant manhunt for this prick.
Anyone out walking alone, and I mean anyone,
will be picked up and taken in for questioning.
His chance of escaping is practically nil.
It's best to stay close, lay low until the heat blows over.
You know, someplace low profile,
someplace inconspicuous.
- Like a 24-hour diner.
- Maybe we should call the staties again, Vince.
Take all these people in and get this sorted out.
- Like hell you are.
- I agree.
- You opposed to that, gentlemen?
- Fuck yeah. We got rights.
- Yeah, well we have evidence of a crime
which gives us probable cause.
- Probable cause, my sweet ass.
I'm not gonna be hauled
into a holding tank by two asshole cops
just because they believe I might be some fucked-up psycho.
Which by the way, I am fucking not.
- Amen, brother.
- Sounds like y'all might have something to hide over there.
- Kiss my ass, Construction.
- All right everybody, keep it cool, all right?
Look we're all gonna abide by the law here, you got it?
Now you are all going in for questioning
as soon as the state cops get here.
My partner and I,
we don't have the resources to handle it ourselves,
considering how many of you there are, all right?
So until then, you guys are gonna stay in my sight,
you're gonna finish your dinners
and you're gonna keep to yourselves,
you reading me? - Calling.
- I believe the saying is loud and clear, Sheriff.
- Copy that. - Maybe for you, doll.
- I'll relay the message.
- What is it?
- Between the crime scene and the roadblocks,
staties are stretched thin.
No spare bodies right now.
- Did you tell 'em what we have?
- They said even with the mask,
we've got no concrete proof he's here or ever was.
They're deeming it not an emergency. So we wait.
- How long? - Hour, maybe less.
- Christ.
It's the last thing we need right now.
- We can't leave this here.
We gotta get it outta the building.
- No, you're right.
Look, here, take all this stuff
and put it in the trunk of the cruiser.
All right? It'll be safe in there.
Then bring the cruiser back here when you're done.
- Excuse me.
Are we being put under arrest?
- Not at all.
- Then you can't hold us here.
- Damn straight.
- If we're not under arrest, we're free
to sashay our asses right out that fucking door.
- Lemme remind you that right now,
anybody that wants to leave,
you might as well change your name to Bone Face.
If it isn't already.
- What the hell are you talking about, Sheriff?
- You know what guilty people do, Mr. Tobin?
When they see the cops?
They run every time.
So unless you've got something to hide,
you shouldn't mind keeping your asses in your seats
and waiting for the state police to show up.
Right?
So who wants to leave?
Not happening.
All right, Mr. Wes.
As of now, you can consider
The Highsmith closed.
Ground rules.
Nobody leaves this room without getting my permission.
Not to smoke, not for fresh air, nothing.
Now, whenever Deputy McCully comes back with our cruiser,
she's gonna search all of your vehicles
and then I'm gonna search the property
and then we are gonna search all of you.
So if you have any weapons on you
or anything else that might be dangerous to us,
now'd be the time to give those up.
Very well. You've been warned.
- That's the meatloaf.
- Jenny. - Yeah?
- You, uh, might wanna put on a fresh pot of coffee too.
Go ahead.
- Well, well, well.
Ain't this the fucking drizzling shits.
- Did you have to search our cars?
- It's protocol.
- Yeah, well that thing in the trunk,
it's, it's a gag gift, okay?
- EpiPen. In case of strawberries.
- Yes, of course.
All right, you're good.
- You all right, Katy?
- I'm fine, Dad.
- All right, you're good.
- I'm empty, Vince.
- That's sharp.
- Wouldn't be worth a if it wasn't.
- I'll be keeping this - Fucking prick.
- All right. Turn around, put your hands on the bar.
- Or what?
- I said turn around. Put your hands on the bar.
- Jo? - I got him.
- Be cool.
- You're good.
- Told you. Asshole.
- Put your leg down.
- Hey, Sheriff?
That's not a banana in my pocket
and I'm not happy to see you.
- Yeah, shut up.
All right, boys and girls, it's bathroom time.
- Yippee.
- Same shade, isn't it?
- What?
- Same shade you wore on the witness stand.
I have a friend who works the crime beat.
- I don't know what you're talking about.
- Yes you do.
You might wanna tell 'em now.
If it comes out later, you might not look too good.
- Hey Jenny, can I have some of that fresh coffee?
Maybe put some of that vodka in it.
- I feel that.
- What's that? - What?
- The book.
- Oh, it's a horror novel.
- Figures.
Cheers. - Cheers.
- Let's get the fuck out of here.
- The hell you looking at?
- You get what I'm saying, right?
- Are you all right? - Yeah.
We gotta get the fuck outta here.
- How, Charlie? They're cops.
- Two cops and one of 'em's a god damn skirt.
You know what we have to do.
- Okay, I'm with you.
- Good boy.
But not until I give the signal, right?
- Roger Dodger.
- I'll just secure this place just in case.
- All right.
- Ooh-ho!
- Give it to her, Rooster.
- There you go.
- More coffee? - Sure.
- You should delete it.
- No. - It creeps me out.
- This thing's gonna buy me a house.
- You're creepy too.
- Mm-hmm.
- Anything?
- Steak knives and cleavers are stashed.
No trace of blood on any of 'em.
No other bodies hiding. Place is clean.
- All right, people.
I'm gonna need to see some shoes.
- What?
- Boots, sneakers, whatever you got.
I'm gonna come around to you.
Whenever I do, I need you to take one of 'em off
and put it in my hand.
- You a fetishist, Sheriff?
You like them feet.
- Our boy left his footwear behind.
It's time we, uh, make a match.
Mr. Meredith, your boot.
Our perpetrator wore a men's size nine and a half.
Mr. Meredith is a...
Is a 10.
- Well, I guess that rules him out.
- Not completely. - Oh God.
- What do you mean?
- It's not like he's a size 15.
10-size feet will fit a nine and a half size shoe.
It would hurt, but it would work.
- Ms. Walsh.
- Don't waste your time, copper.
- Meaning?
- Meaning, let's cut the shit
and address the elephant in the room.
This was a fucking slaughter.
No woman's capable of that. Come on.
- Tell that to Amelia Dyer.
- And that was who?
- We studied her in class.
She was hanged for murder in 1896.
- Oh yeah?
What'd she do, kill her annoying movie projectionist?
- No. Babies.
- Oh, shit.
- She adopted unwanted children
and either let them starve or die of neglect.
After a while, it got too inconvenient for her
so she started to strangle them right away instead.
- Gross.
- She was only convicted of six murders.
But when the cops raided her home,
they found over 300 pieces of baby clothing.
Make of that what you will.
- Oh God.
- A sick mind doesn't care
what body it lives in, ladies and gents.
Trust me.
- All right, come on.
- Men and women have different sizing, you know?
- Yeah, size and a half difference. I know.
- What are those?
- Louis Vuitton.
- Seven and a half, which makes it a men's size six.
- Too small.
- Unless you stuff it real good.
- With thick socks, maybe.
A couple extra pairs will do it.
- May I have that back please? It was a gift.
- Ooh, what was his name?
- Ginger.
- Hey, sexy lady.
Why don't you stop that grinning and drop that linen.
- Leave a little something on me, Mr. Riggs.
I am not a fan of pneumonia.
- This is ridiculous.
- Just give him the shoe, family man.
- I don't recall speaking to you.
- Well, pardon fucking me, Ward Cleaver.
Don't be so hard on the Beaver.
- Shut up.
All right, just gimme your shoes.
- Size 10. - You're a 10?
- Small feet. I got it from my pops.
- How about that. - Doesn't make me a killer.
- Puts you right in the ballpark.
- Right besides you.
- Eight and a half.
- And I don't wear thick socks.
- Don't worry, kiddo. Neither do I.
- Fuck you.
Seconded.
- Hand 'em over.
- Suck my ass, family man.
Me and Mick, we ain't done shit.
- Then prove it.
- What are you gonna do "Tomb Raider"?
Hit us with your laptop?
- Fucking-a right.
I'm sick and tired of this bullshit.
We're goddamn American citizens.
- Damn straight.
- And we got a right to our fucking privacy.
Plus, you ain't even got a fucking warrant.
- We have probable cause.
- Oh, there's that fucking probable cause bullshit again.
You want my shoe, law man?
I'll give it to you.
Right up your fucking ass.
So you best better pass on by
before me and my boy here
sue the fucking shit out of both of you.
- Atta boy, Rooster. - Thank you.
- Give it to him, right. - He's a son of a-
- All right. - Don't!
- You got him? - Got him.
- All right.
Yeah. You hear me, Charlie, huh?
- Yeah, goddammit. I hear you.
- Yeah, now hear this. - Fuck.
- All right, look,
I don't give a shit about your rights.
All right? You know what I give a shit about?
I give a shit about all those little kids
that were cut to pieces
before they ever even got a chance to live.
All right?
Now I came here to find that killer
and that's what I plan on doing.
Now you and your boyfriend, you're gonna start cooperating.
You got me?
Or I swear on my mother I will make sure
that you find the deepest, darkest hole and you will rot.
- Vince? Let him up, Vince.
- You got it? - Yes! Yes!
Got it. Got it.
Dammit. You sone of a bitch.
- Shoe.
- You motherfucker.
Here's my fucking shoe.
- Mr. Riggs, size nine.
- Ballpark!
- Blow me, fucking, Construction.
- Mr. Tobin.
Size 11. - That's right.
- Tens.
- Are you kidding me?
How could I have taken a photo of myself?
- Your camera have a timer on it?
- Yeah, it does.
- You said yourself,
you were out there for hours taking pictures.
- Mm. I was.
- Yeah. You see where I'm going with this?
- I do.
- You've gotta be fucking kidding me right now.
- Are we?
- Four hours? You said it yourself.
- For fuck's sake.
- Nine and a half. - Men's size eight.
- Wes?
- Sorry.
Here you go.
- Wes. Size 10.
Jenny?
Seven and a half. Which, in men's it's six.
- What size shoe you wear, fucking Sheriff?
- Size one. State issue.
- Um, could I borrow that pen, please?
- Oh yeah. There you go bud.
- Thank you.
So what conclusion did you come to, Sheriff?
- The conclusion I've come to
is that with a couple of pair of socks
and a manageable amount of pain,
potentially everyone in here
could have fit into those killer's boots.
- So what now?
- Now we do the only thing we can do. We wait.
- Vince, there's gotta be something else we can do here.
- I'm working on it.
- Sheriff, I could use some fresh air.
- Yeah, me too.
- Vince?
- Yeah, just, uh, keep an eye on things.
- He better not be letting that kid go home.
- He's not.
- Sure you ain't hungry, Deputy?
Got some meatloaf left over I think.
- Not exactly my favorite. - Okay.
- I never liked it either.
- And you call yourselves Americans?
Meatloaf is right up there with apple pie.
Oh, come on!
Everybody likes apple pie.
- I'm not everybody.
- Cherry's my favorite. - Pumpkin.
- Banana cream. - French silk.
- What a shocker.
- What about you, Construction.
You're gonna wade in on this little debate?
- Pecan. - So you are the guy.
- Figures. - Hell-
Oh, shit!
- Oh my God. What's wrong with him?
- Ray, Ray! - What's happening, Vince?
Talk to me. - Uh, ever- Get back!
- Is he okay? - Everyone get back!
Oh, come on.
He can't breathe.
Oh shit! - What is it?
- His EpiPen. It's gone.
- Well how could it be gone?
- Oh, we're gonna have to trach him.
- What are you doing? - Ray?
Ray? Ray!
- He's dead.
- How?
I don't see any wounds, blood or anything.
- It's anaphylaxis. His throat swelled shut.
He couldn't breathe.
He suffocated.
- Jam.
- Strawberry jam.
- I don't understand.
How does strawberry jam get in there?
- Maybe it, possibly accident in the kitchen.
- This was no accident.
- You don't know that for sure.
- Yes we do.
I didn't go outside to get air with Ray.
I went outside because of this.
- "I know who it is."
- Oh fuck me running.
- Did he give you a name? - He started to
and then he started choking and collapsed.
- He would've tasted it in his glass.
- No, no, no, no, no, no.
The strawberry jam, that would've mixed
with the cherry syrup in his soda.
He was poisoned and one of you did it.
The same person that wears that goddamn mask.
Now I don't know how he knew,
but Ray figured out who it was.
And this Bone Face,
whoever he or she is, silenced him.
- "He or she"? Let's stop playing this guessing game.
The stuff was in his drink
and there's only one person
that's been serving drinks all night.
- I didn't kill him! - You expect us to buy that?
- Oh, just because she gave him the goddamn thing
doesn't mean- - Hey! Hey!
Hey! - Enough! Enough!
Knock it off.
Now, listen, he's right. Wes is right.
Every single one of you had access to strawberry jam.
It's on every goddamn table in this place.
- That's impossible.
You and Deputy McCully have been watching us like hawks
ever since we got here.
There's no way any of us
could sneak it into Ray's drink without you noticing
- Anaphylactic shock has stages, Mr. Howard.
Symptoms can take anywhere from minutes
to hours to set in.
- Meaning what exactly?
- Meaning whatever Ray said
or did that tipped off the killer
could have happened when Vince and I walked in here,
or could have happened before that.
The point is we can't be sure when it happened.
- Yeah, but it did.
And one of you did it.
- Maybe. - Maybe?
Well you, you wanna speak up Mr. Riggs? Huh?
- I said maybe.
As in maybe it was one of us or maybe it was you.
- Look, I realize you have a problem
with authority, Mr. Riggs,
but now you're reaching.
- You were the only one out there with Ray.
You both walk outside and seconds later he's dying. Huh?
Who's to say you didn't stuff that shit down his throat
the second you were out of sight, huh?
Yeah.
The fact is, how do we even fucking know
that Bone Face is here?
Who told us? You!
Who's been leading this bullshit around all night? You!
- 'Cause I'm the law in this town.
- Because you wear a uniform.
That shit comes off.
How do we know you don't go home at night,
take off that shiny badge, put on the mask?
You said you've been watching these kids for years.
Maybe you've been watching 'em a little too closely.
- You two are insane. - Oh really?
What about your little violent outburst in here tonight?
Strong arming my ass. Threatening everybody in here?
Yeah. I got a problem with authority.
Especially if they're fucked up in the head.
- Hey, you're outta line.
- Oh, is that so?
What do you really know about this prick?
Huh? Are you close to him?
Did you go through the academy with him?
Share school lunches?
Or did you just meet him last month?
Yeah, that's what I fucking thought.
- Sit down, Mr. Riggs. - Sure thing. Vince.
- We need to move him.
We can't leave him like this.
- Come on. - Come on!
- Yeah. Right there.
- Let's, uh, put him in the bathroom.
- Now, as entertaining as Mr. Riggs' theory is,
I'm still the law in this building.
And I'll be damned if I let another one of you die
before the sun comes up.
So Deputy McCully and I,
we're gonna do everything we can
to ferret out this Bone Face.
- How so, Sheriff?
- Jo.
I'm gonna ask the questions
and you're all gonna tell me the truth
and your lives will be checked
by the state police when they get here
so don't waste my time.
Get it?
Mr. Meredith, you, uh, you fought in the Gulf War.
- Yes, sir.
- Storm or Shield.
- Storm.
- Which battalion?
- Third Marine Aircraft Division.
- The highway of death?
- That a mission?
- A tactical maneuver.
- A slaughter.
An Iraqi convoy was fleeing Kuwait
on a six-lane highway
but our troops blocked off both sides.
Turning it into one giant traffic jam.
Then it destroyed with missiles.
Everything. And everyone.
- Cluster bombs. Not missiles.
- The death toll was in the thousands.
- You did that? - My unit did.
We were following orders
because that's what you do in a war.
You follow orders.
- You honorably discharged?
- No.
- Do tell, Mr. Meredith.
- I was released on a medical issue.
- What kind?
- Section 8.
- Jesus. - What is that?
- I believe the definition is "mentally unfit for service."
- What about it, Construction? You go gaga over there?
Bang, bang, bat-shit crazy?
- No. I did not.
- What'd you do? Rub one out in the general's soup?
- Probably got caught lip locking
on some private's love limb.
- Shut your fucking mouth! - Hey!
Stay back, calm down.
- That was 19 months in the sand
and I will rip out your shit tracks
and use them to make balloon animals.
You hear me? You son of a bitch.
- Hell, Mick.
Looks like we hit a little nerve with Construction.
- Sounds like a killer talking to me.
- Ooh! - Just relax, Mr. Meredith.
Would you just explain it to us all?
- I did things, things that gave my superiors
the impression that I liked it too much.
That, uh, violence.
- You mean the killing?
- All I did was exactly what they asked me to do.
- It sounds like you did a little bit more than that.
- Just a little.
- What'd you do when you got home?
- Found work. Odd jobs over the years.
Kept to myself. - Where at?
- Camp Marigold.
I knew I recognized you.
- Is this true?
- What did he do there, Ms. Howard?
- He used to fix things. Worked on cabins and stuff.
- You're sure? - Very.
He creeped us out. - How so?
He'd stare at us a lot.
- That ain't a crime, hun.
- Says you.
- How long'd you work there?
- Two years. - Did you quit?
- No. - Something happen?
- Ms. Howard?
- Go on, Katy.
- He, uh, he attacked one
of the counselors. - That's a lie.
- Her name was Mandy Hill.
He was fixing a toilet in her cabin and,
and she ran out screaming saying he tried to rape her.
- Bullshit!
- Then why don't you explain it to us?
- Your friend was a tramp.
She threw herself at me.
She was dancing all around me,
showing skin, rubbing up on me.
She wanted it.
Then she realized that screwing the maintenance man
might not make her look too good
to all those stuck-up bitches like yourself at that camp.
So she had to spin some evil story,
turn herself into a victim and me into a fucking pariah.
Her popularity rose like a 10-year-old's dick
while my ass was on the street.
- You fucking short eyes.
- She was 19, fuck-head.
It don't even matter 'cause I didn't do nothing.
- You weren't arrested?
- Camp owner made a deal.
"Don't start a lawsuit, stay outta jail."
Didn't want the bad press ruining her business.
- Christ, Margie.
- Oh, hell of a story.
- Hell of a motive.
- What's that supposed to mean?
- She means you've got a damn good reason
to hate campers, pal.
- I'm a lot of things ma'am, some of them bad.
But I am no Bone Face.
I mean, how could anybody in here
kill those kids tonight, anyway?
It is not possible.
- Actually, Mr. Meredith, it's, it's quite possible.
Somebody parked their car out here,
made their way to the campground,
which is less than a mile away,
committed the crime and then made their way right back here
without anybody noticing.
- How?
It would take a significant amount of time
to kill nine people.
Not to mention the travel on foot.
- It took Deputy McCully
and I a couple of minutes to get here.
A round trip, that's less than 10 minutes.
The kids were all sleeping.
So that would've taken what, 10, 15 minutes, tops.
It's a goddamn smoke break.
It's very feasible that you guys
were too busy with your conversation and your dinners
to notice somebody slipping in and outta here.
But you.
You were here for four hours.
It'd been really easy for you to slip outta here
and make your way to the campground
and get right back here without anybody noticin'.
- After snapping a photo of the killer.
- What possible motive would I have
for killing nine campers?
- 41. - Shut up.
- Did you delete the photo? - What?
- I told you that you should have deleted it,
but you said that it would buy you a house.
- I was just being colorful.
- Or admitting a motive.
Once news of the killings broke,
you'd be first on the scene.
Even beat the crime photographers.
A lot of money for photos like that.
- Jesus Christ.
What about you, Miss Scarlet?
- What about me?
- How do we know that you are not Bone Face? Hmm?
- First of all, I would never wear black overalls.
They would be an assault to my sense of taste.
Second, Sheriff Cronin said
the murders occurred at midnight
and I was sitting right here enjoying my drink.
- I said around midnight. That implies leeway.
- Fine. Around midnight.
But I was right here.
- Until you left.
- Excuse me?
- Before I brought you your drink, you left.
Said you needed cigarettes and you'd get them from your car.
- I like my cigarettes. That's not illegal.
- How long was she gone, Jenny?
- I was gone five minutes.
- Did anyone else see you leave?
- I ain't see shit.
- So much for "love thy neighbor."
- The boots would fit you.
- And you, my dear.
But why would I bother to kill campers?
- 'Cause you killed your husbands.
I recognized her when she walked in.
Jackson West is a friend of mine
who works at "The Chronicle."
He was there for your trial.
Shot some pretty solid closeup shots of you.
Or at least a woman named Nadine Curico.
- Why wouldn't you mention this sooner?
- 'Cause it didn't matter until you showed up.
- And it doesn't matter now.
I was acquitted.
- So guess that means you didn't do it, huh?
- Do tell, Ms. Walsh
- First was Ralph.
He was very rich and very lonely.
And we would go for a ride every Sunday in his Rolls.
And one day I wasn't feeling good
and so he went by himself.
- What happened? - Yes, Audrey. What happened?
- Brake lines were severed. Car went off a cliff.
- Imagine that.
- Then was Winston.
He was tall, and so handsome
and really kind. - And very rich.
- Poor fella had a heart condition.
Doctors told him not to excite himself,
but that was all he ever did.
One day, it caught up to him.
- Drug overdose. His heart basically exploded.
- Despite what some people might think,
I really did love them.
And after the trial and the reporters,
I had to move on.
- To Ginger.
- With Ralph and Winston's cash.
- A woman is allowed to adjust her proclivities.
And if I came into a little bit of money,
so what if I enjoy it?
And not spend my time playing dress-up
and murdering teenagers?
- You might.
Rich people get bored, don't they?
What about you Howard?
You got a fetish for slashing up kids?
- Absolutely not.
- What about your girl there?
Seems like she knows her way around that camp.
Maybe a couple of others.
- My dad doesn't kill people and neither do I.
- Can you prove it?
- We don't even live here anymore.
We're just on our way home.
And if I would've known what's in store for us,
I would've kept driving.
Believe me.
- What route? - What?
- Roads, highways. Which ones you've been driving?
- Why does it matter? - Humor us, Mr. Howard.
- Yeah, Howard. Humor us.
- You vacationed in New Orleans, yes?
- Yes.
- What highway are you taking?
- I-40.
- Did you take it the whole trip?
- I believe so.
What's the point of this, Sheriff?
- Twin Pines. - What?
- Camp Twin Pines and Sunny Ridge, the other murder sites,
both are right off Highway 40.
- A lot of people take 40
as well as any other major highway.
Driving past a murder site
doesn't mean that I, or we, killed anyone.
- But it gives you the opportunity.
If you did. - We didn't.
- A bunch of kids died at summer camp
your daughter had a traumatic experience at.
Seems a little coincidental, don't you think?
- So was you working there.
- What about you, sweetie pie.
You got a beef with your camper pals.
They stick your fingers in some warm water
and you tee-teed all in the bed.
- Leave me alone.
- Who's to say you tour on some fucked-up team?
Daddy teaches this little girl how to gut people.
- Mm-hmm.
- If there's a fucked-up psycho team in here, it's you two.
- Well if the mask fits, wear it, little lady.
- You don't talk to my daughter like that.
You hear me, Riggs?
- What are you gonna do, slice me up, Papa Bone Face?
- More than that, you son of a bitch.
- Come on, you clean-cut pussy.
- That's enough. - Calm down, Mr. Howard.
- Now!
- Back off!
- What the fuck?
- I got him, Mick. I got him.
- Get back.
- Cunt.
- Turn around and put your hands on the wall.
- Ugh.
Thanks for the coffee.
- No problem.
- Hope you like your new bracelets.
- What is that?
- It's definitely not flour.
Open your mouth.
- Vince. - I said open your mouth!
- Vince. Goddammit.
Come on.
- No wonder you boys wanted to get outta here so fast.
Cronin.
Yeah. State police are on their way here now.
You got a report on that background check I called in for?
Really?
Is that right?
Interesting.
You know, do me a favor,
won't you tell my partner exactly what you just told me.
All right, oh, and tell the staties when they get here,
I'll have their killer in custody.
I was about to make the arrest right when you called.
Jo. - McCully.
- Mr. Doyle.
I need you to turn around and put your hands on your head.
- Excuse me. - You heard me, Bone Face.
- The fucking cook.
- You're making a mistake.
- Are we?
Wesley J. Doyle.
Wife: Leslie Ann. Married 20 years, divorced for four.
One child, a daughter: Amanda Paige Doyle,
counselor at Camp Marigold for two summers.
Wife's maiden name is Hill.
- You did call her Mandy, didn't you?
- Mandy Hill. She's your daughter?
- She was using her mama's name
'cause you two just got divorced.
They both walked out on you, but you tracked them down.
Hoping to reconcile but that didn't happen, did it?
'Cause something else did.
Isn't that right, Construction?
- Fuck you.
- Say, what if everything happened exactly
the way Mandy said it did.
And then what if her daddy found out about it?
Wes showed up at Camp Marigold
with a temper that'd burned a forest down.
Jo?
- Wesley Doyle: arrested, served three months
for attempted assault of one Margaret Carpenter,
camp owner and operator.
- I went to her because I couldn't find you.
Then one day, there you were,
sitting in that booth eating my food
like some smug son of a fuckin'...
You attacked my daughter! - I didn't do shit!
- She showed me everything, you son of a bitch!
- Then why didn't you report him?
The owner gave him a pass but you didn't have to.
- That's right, Audrey. He did.
'Cause maybe he came up
with something a little more, uh, creative.
But first you paid back the camp and everyone in it.
But not Camp Marigold- - No, no, no.
- not right away.
'Cause- - He wasn't ready.
Twin Pines, Sunny Ridge, they were practice runs.
- And once his skills were refined,
he'd just wait for Mr. Craig to show back up
and then he'd kill the man who assaulted his daughter
using Bone Face's MO.
And then Bone Face disappears into the garbage.
And the campfire story's are history.
You were gonna do it tonight, weren't you?
Gonna take him out in the woods
and carve him up right next to the camp?
I mean it makes sense.
Man like him involved in all that scandal.
And he's just out there peeping on all the little girls.
Just one more body.
And then who would believe that it was Mr. Wes Doyle,
the new cook at The Highsmith?
- Wes?
- Hold your damn horses.
You could have done a background check on all of us
and you chose just to do one on him.
Why?
- 'Cause when Deputy McCully and I arrived,
I noticed a few things.
You were sweating and no one else was.
And it's downright chilly in here.
- It's a fucking kitchen.
I was grilling Ray's burger,
I mean, the grill makes you sweat.
- Yeah, maybe after 10 burgers but not one.
Which means something else made you sweat.
Like, say, running through a forest
after killing nine campers.
- Oh, I was here the whole time.
- Hell even a cook needs a break now and then.
And you took yours around 12,
which is right around the time the murders took place.
- How did you know that?
- Oh, Ms. Walsh told us.
- I did?
- You said you got here around 12.
How many staff did you see?
- One waitress.
- Yeah, one waitress. No cook.
- It's not enough, Sheriff. You need hard evidence.
- The mask and clothes weren't on your person.
The blood was.
- What blood? Nobody saw any blood.
- When Deputy McCully and I showed up,
Wes here was cleaning his hands.
- Meat drippings.
- Yeah? Then the state lab should say so.
But I have a feeling the results
are gonna be a little more dramatic.
It looks like we found our killer and an attempted rapist.
- I have a deal.
- Well, not with me soldier.
Not with me. - And not with me.
- Wes put the knife down.
Come on, Doyle. Put the knife down.
- What the fuck?
- Sweet creepin' Jesus.
- Meredith put the gun down. What the hell?
Jo, you got Meredith? - I got him.
- Come on now.
Put the knife down.
Put the knife down! - He deserves to die.
- Fuck you. I got clear of that shit.
And neither you nor your whore daughter
is going to take me down.
Oh, shit!
Wes...
- Holy hell.
Wha- everybody s- stay calm.
- Hell of a night. - And then some.
- Crime scene boys are still busy back at the camp.
They'll take the evidence you collected off your hands
when they get here.
You can see your witnesses down at the station.
I'd say this ghastly mess is finally wrapped up.
- Thanks for your help.
- She need a ride?
- We'll give her a lift.
- Scott, what's your 20?
- Heading to you.
- Have a good night. - Night.
- Those kids.
I mean, to go to a party and get slaughtered like that.
I can't believe Wes.
- He won't anymore.
Come on, let's wait in the car.
- Wait. - What's wrong?
- I have to pee. - Go ahead. I'll wait.
- Dispatch to William 128.
Come back, William 128.
Sheriff, are you there?
- Go for Cronin.
- The crime scene boys
are wrapping up at the camp.
They'll be there in 10. Standby.
- Thank Christ.
- All set?
Jenny, you done?
Jenny? You okay?
Jenny?
- Shit!
- Vince!
Oh god, Vince.
This is Deputy McCully at The Highsmith.
I've got an officer down with a neck wound.
Stay with me, Vince. Stay with me.
Who did it?
Stay with me, Vince. Come on, Vince.
Vince.
Shit!
Oh, shit.
- Jenny Saunders!
Jenny come out. We'll talk.
- How did you know?
- You said the murders happened at a party
and we never mentioned a party.
- You must be so proud of yourself.
- Listen to me. Every cop in the state will be on your ass.
They will hunt you down like an animal.
But I don't want that.
Come quietly and I'll make sure
your story gets heard, Jenny.
- You don't know shit about my story.
- I might have an idea.
You went to a camp, right?
What was it?
What went wrong at camp, Jenny?
- They killed my brother.
Not that you care.
- You're wrong.
I do care.
I'm gonna put this away.
I'm not a cop anymore.
I'm just someone who wants to listen, okay?
Jenny, please.
- It was Twin Pines.
We were both there, me and my brother.
His name was Steve.
He was special.
They teased him.
And when I confronted them,
turned them in to the counselors,
they joined in.
They pissed in his bed, put spiders in his food.
And then one day they took him into the woods,
said they were looking for butterflies.
They undressed him and tied him to a tree.
They said he had some kind of attack, anxiety,
and somehow he got that rope around his neck.
He was 13.
And the camp owners, they just, they covered it up.
They didn't want the accident to ruin the season.
That's what they called it, "the accident."
They blamed Steve.
They said he should have known better.
So one night I made myself a mask
and I snuck onto the grounds and I punished all of them.
But it wasn't enough.
So Sunny Ridge came next.
And then I stopped for a little bit.
I tried forgetting it.
And then I got a job at that damn diner.
And while I was on the bus on my way home,
I saw Camp Marigold
and it all came flooding back.
So I waited.
And well, tonight, let's just say
that they'll have a hard time
forgetting their party now, won't they?
- But Audrey caught you in a photo.
- Yeah. That opportunistic bitch.
Anyways, I came through the woods an hour later
just in time for Wes to get his fresh air.
- So the blood on the towel.
- Wes was genuine when he said that it was raw meat
because I told him that it was
since I was the one who made the meatloaf.
- And Ray knew? He knew it was you.
- Yeah, Ray knew.
He probably wondered what a girl like me
was doing in the woods.
Killing Ray was clumsy, sure.
But it was necessary.
And yeah, I hid his EpiPen in the leftover meatloaf.
It's been a hell of a night. That's for sure.
I really am sorry about the sheriff.
But I had to use the knife.
I had to get Steve back.
I really didn't mean to frame Wes.
I threw my things in the trash
because I didn't have any other choice.
I admit I got a little messy tonight.
I guess I just lost my head a little.
- Or maybe you didn't.
Maybe a part of you knows what you're doing is wrong
and wants to stop.
Jenny, please just put the hatchet down.
- Haven't you heard a thing that I've said?
They murdered my brother and they treated it like a joke.
They deserved to die. All of them!
- What happened to your brother was a crime
and the ones who did it deserve to be punished.
But not by you. Not like this.
- Not by me!
By Bone Face.
- Jenny.
Don't!
I'm sorry.
- Oh, sh...
Jesus, Joey.
- Someone's jumpy. - Yeah.
Only 'cause you're skulking around like a damn ghost.
What are you stalking me or something?
- You're not my type, Sydney.
- Yeah. What are you doing out here then?
- I just finished my last joint.
Didn't want Dean to hear about it.
That wasn't great the last time.
- Roger and Michelle already out there?
- Waiting on you last I heard.
Well, now us.
- Why are we even going?
- It's tradition.
- Tradition.
- Yo! - Hey! Hey!
- Finally. - Where y'all been?
All right, we all know why we're here
on our last night of summer as per tradition.
So who's first?
- Uh-uh. - Hey.
- No.
- Okay, I'll go.
- Perfect. Thanks, babe.
- So years ago it was a dark, cold moonlit night,
a car rolls to a stop hidden in a dark forest.
Inside was a girl and a boy.
They were out on a date-
- And Hook Man scraped their car.
Drip, drip, drip or some shit.
Yeah, we know. Who's next?
- You suck.
- Oh look, I got a classic, look.
This girl, she took a job babysitting for her neighbors-
- Yeah, we know that one.
- Yeah, but mine's true.
- Sure, sure.
Like the one about the guy who buys a dog in Mexico,
takes it home and finds out it's not a real dog,
it's a Chupacabra? - Or your mom.
- This is pathetic. Come on.
Look, I don't wanna sleep tonight.
Use your damn imaginations, please.
- I don't got nothing.
- I've got one.
- Is it scary? - It's about us.
Well, not us.
Camp counselors.
And they were having this party,
a goodbye party for a girl that was leaving the camp,
it was a sleepover in the pool house.
Story goes, the camp owner was gone for the night.
Soon, all the counselors were asleep
as the wind howled outside and the moon shined above.
It was a great night.
But not for long.
See what they didn't know,
what none of them could have ever imagined,
is that they weren't alone.
No. Someone else was there.
Watching. Waiting.
Hidden in the shadows.
- This someone got a name?
- Yeah, they called him.