INT. MARVIN’s HOUSE (PRESENT DAY)
Faith pans the small revolver back and forth, bumping her shin against the coffee table.
Faith touches her trembling hand along the back of the sofa. She moves toward the upstairs landing as a flash of lightening illuminates the Eastwood cut-out where Andy Neyman suddenly appears, holding the cordless phone.
Faith freezes. She can sense Andy’s presence.
What do you want from me?
gunSHOTS ERUPT. GLASS shatteRS.
DETECTIVE BRANIGAN BURSTS INSIDE THE ROOM WITH A SWAT TEAM ON HIS HEELS. He tackles Faith as laser-sighted weapons beam the walls and furniture.
SWAT TEAM MEMBER 1
SWAT TEAM MEMBER 2
You all right?
Faith nods her head.
It’s all over.
EXT. MARVIN’s HOUSE – NIGHT
Faith rests on a gurney near an ambulance surrounded with police cars and flashing lights. A paramedic removes a blood pressure cuff from her arm as Branigan watches.
She’ll be all right.
Faith wipes her hair from her face.
Did you find him?
Branigan stares across the lawn at the neighbors standing along the street in their pajamas.
INT. MOTEL ROOM – NIGHT
Branigan exits the kitchenette area with a cup of water for Faith who stands in a towel. Wet hair clings to her neck and face. Steam fogs the mirror in the bathroom behind her.
You sure you don’t want something stronger?
Faith takes the water with both hands.
Faith takes a sip and hands the cup back to Branigan.
They’re two officers stationed outside. You’ll be safe here.
He won’t stop. (beat) Will he?
Branigan turns to leave.
Stay with me…
Branigan moves toward the door and grabs the knob. His phone beeps. He turns to see Faith holding a cell phone. He sighs and retreats to Faith.
Right now, this is the safest place for you to be.
Faith touches his chest with her fingertips, feeling along the base of his neck before pausing to study the outline of his face and lips. Branigan kisses her finger.
I can’t do this…
Branigan leans in to kiss her. Faith brings her hand behind his neck and pulls him toward her, hungrily. Her towel slides down her slender body.
INT. MOTEL ROOM – NIGHT
Branigan lies awake on his back, staring at the ceiling with Faith asleep beside him. The clock on the nightstand reads 4:30 a.m. Branigan slips out of bed and pulls his pants on. He holsters his weapon.
INT. MEDICAL EXAMINER’s LAB – NIGHT
Branigan examines the partially covered body of Marvin Tibbs lying face up on the stainless steel slab with knife wounds to his upper abdomen. The MEDICAL EXAMINER (M.E.), a slender red-head in a lab apron, enters through a swinging door.
What do we got?
Marvin Tibbs. DOA. Bled out before the paramedics could jump him.
The M.E. points to Marvin’s wounds.
Deep stab wounds to the lower abdomen pierced his liver, which wasn’t much to begin with.
The M.E. takes a plastic evidence bag from the counter and hands it to Branigan. Inside the bag is a prescription pill bottle with no prescription label.
Crime scene found this in the house. Same contents as the one you found at the truck stop murders.
Branigan inspects the blue oval pills in the tinted brown bottle.
What are they?
I ran a tox screen. Some sort of stimulant with a chemical composition similar to PCP.
That’s what I thought until I had the lab run it through the FDA database. The pills are part of a coma research therapy that targets the reticular activation system in the brain. The drug failed during phase three trials. It shouldn’t be on the street.
You get a name?
Doctor Edwin Jenkins, chief scientist at a biomedical research center in Jamaica, New York. Filed for FDA approval two years ago.
Branigan holds the bottle to the overhead light and smiles.
One more thing…
The M.E. retrieves a folder from her desk. She opens it and reveals THE PICTURES ANDY NEYMAN DREW IN CRAYON.
Martinez dropped them off. Said your hunch was right, whatever that means.
EXT. BRANIGAN’s MOVING CROWN VICTORIA – NIGHT
Branigan’s car screeches to a stop at a motel parking lot. He gets out and climbs the stairs to–
FAITH’s MOTEL ROOM
Branigan approaches the officer outside the room.
Where’s your other half?
On the shitter.
Branigan knocks lightly.
She’s not there.
Branigan pounds the door.
Branigan kicks the door down. The officer follows.
She left with her sister.
About an hour ago.
And you let them leave?
She’s not under house arrest.
Branigan holsters his gun.
If she comes back, grab her… Cuff her to your arm if you have to, but don’t let her leave here again!
EXT. COMA RESEARCH CENTER – NIGHT
Branigan’s Crown Victoria drives over a snow-covered road leading up to a guard gate surrounded by a heavily-wooded tract encompassed by ten-foot fencing topped with constantino wire. The headlights dim.
INT. CROWN VIC
Branigan reaches out the driver’s window with his badge and ID.
INT. GUARD SHACK
A security guard turns away from a fuzzy 12-inch black and white television. He takes a clip board off the cube-shaped ceramic heater and checks the names on the list. He presses a button.
EXT. GUARD SHACK
The iron gate creaks and groans as it slides open.
INT. CROWN VICTORIA – NIGHT
Branigan loads a fresh clip in his Glock and pulls the slide back to chamber the first round. He holsters the weapon and gets out.
EXT. CROWN VIC
Snow flurries pelt Branigan’s face as he treks toward the lobby entrance at the base of a five story building with tinted windows.
INT. LOBBY ENTRANCE – NIGHT
Branigan swipes his hand through his snow-covered hair. A pair of elevator doors open silently. Doctor Jenkins steps out; he walks with a tired hunch.
Branigan extends a handshake.
Thanks for meeting me.
No problem. We don’t get many visitors in this weather.