Man, I love it up here.
You been camping?
Look at me, Detective.
I look like I want to sleep on the fucking ground?
Well, my dad used to take us every summer.
He once left me alone for 24 hours. Didn't say anything.
Just walked off one day to see if I had the survival skills.
Must be why you're so well-adjusted.
Just saying, I'll take you if you want.
I'm not going camping with you, Durst. Spend enough time with you as it is.
I like the bunny ears. Kinky.
Take notes.
Looks like she was dragged.
Sharp force trauma to the neck. It looks deep.
No blood pool.
No. She was cleaned up.
Somebody wanted it to look pretty?
Certainly came prepared.
Yep. Knew what he was doing.
Or she.
She didn't put up a fight.
Hey…
Hey, can you guys hear me? Hello--
Okay, none of this makes any sense.
I was camping, and then…
I don't know what happened.
-I was fine and then-- -A weird sex thing gone wrong?
Hey, can somebody please cover me up?
It's a weird outfit for camping.
Yeah, I don't think she was camping.
That's not what I was wearing.
-Stripper, maybe? -I'm not a stripper.
-Dragged out here. -I'm not…
-There were the assaults… -I need--
…at Juicy Lucy's last month.
What is happening?
Did you get these numbers in her arm?
-What numbers? -What numbers?
There are numbers carved into her arm.
-551143. -God, fuck. Five, five--
It's not enough digits for a phone number.
Could be a Bible reference?
Oh, my God. You and the Jesus thing.
Fuck you. The Bible reference, it's an idea.
Oh, my God.
Who would do this? This is…
Why am I still here? That's--
It's like I'm having the worst period of my life. Oh, fuck.
Jesus Christ. What limp dick is running this shit show?
Hi.
Carole Andrews from the county sheriff's office.
Thanks so much for coming up.
-Hi, I'm Detective Chris Durst. -Hi.
This is my partner, Detective Bobby Bronson.
-You the one who found the body? -No. Well, kind of.
A hiker found her, and I got the call,
so technically I didn't find her, but I did radio for assistance
since we don't have the manpower for this kinda thing.
It's my first murder.
I can walk you through what I found so far--
Where'd you get that coffee?
-This? -Yeah, the one in your hand.
There's a little general store right up the road.
How about this? Grab us a coffee.
While you're at it, get this area roped off properly.
I want a 20-foot perimeter around the body,
another ten feet after that.
Get these fucking squad cars out of here,
'cause they're probably destroying a whole bunch of fucking evidence.
Almond milk, two sugars.
You got it, Detective.
Oh, my God.
It's annoying that you're actually kind of attractive.
Okay, maybe I'm still here because I have unfinished business,
like in that movie Ghost with Patrick Swayze.
Wait, he talks to people, right?
How's he do it? He, like, finds Whoopi Goldberg.
Okay, I need my Whoopi Goldberg.
Hello?
Is anyone here my Whoopi Goldberg?
Hey. You seem distracted today.
Yeah, he's traumatized. I'm traumatized.
It's my wife's birthday.
-Well, ex-wife. -That doesn't seem relevant.
-You gonna call her? -Nah.
-It's complicated. -Kind of in the middle of something.
You don't have to run, Carole.
Waited this long for caffeine. What's a few more minutes?
Patrol just dropped this off.
They were sitting on a car about half a mile away registered to a…
-Rebecca Moss. -…Rebecca Moss.
That's me.
Wow, that's her.
Can we take a minute to acknowledge the real tragedy?
I was clearly in my prime.
-You think ID'ing a dead girl is funny? -No.
No.
It's just, who gets a blowout and contours their face
before a trip to the DMV?
-Wow. -Contour.
You live with your license photo a long time, Carole.
-Unless you die. -Okay, okay.
Hey.
You know how women like to go to the bathroom together?
You're gonna stay with the body. Girl time.
Take good care of my body, Carole.
And contouring takes like two minutes. I'd show you, but, you know, I'm dead.
God.
Okay. Where are we headed?
This place is a dump.
Yeah, but it was my dump.
God, I'm gonna miss it.
Been meaning to finish this bookshelf for over a year.
Thought if I went back and got my degree, I'd have books to actually put on it.
I guess that's not happening now either.
-Got a lot of true crime here. -Chicks love that shit.
Can you not talk like that? It's disrespectful.
Okay, Mister "I love my mom and my wife and my daughters."
You say that like it's a weakness.
I just think if someone's kissing you goodbye in the morning,
telling you to go out and make the world a better place,
you're living a fantasy.
Better than being a jaded asshole
who has to numb himself on a daily basis just to do his job.
You calling me an asshole?
Hey. Just using my powers of observation.
This is such bullshit.
I had a life. I had friends.
What, now I'm just going to have PMS for all eternity?
What the fuck?
Keep your hand out of my head, okay?
Bingo.
Looks like she was hiding her stash from someone.
Yeah, don't be such a judgmental narc. It's weed, not heroin.
Don't-- Fuck.
What? Helps me focus.
Puts me in touch with the cosmos.
It makes you grumpy,
and then I gotta be the one to lie to forensics.
So don't look.
All right. I guess I'm gonna go into the bedroom again to do my job.
God, that smells good.
Come on, Detective.
You can't even feel my presence? Even just a little bit?
How about this?
Can't even flirt.
This is the worst. This is my literal hell.
-Laptop. -I never use that.
Actually, you know what, what's your take?
I mean, what's the weed telling you?
Yeah, Bronson. We're all curious.
Girl's a knockout, obviously.
Finally, a fact.
But, beyond looks,
she hasn't got much else going on.
No close relationships, no family photos anywhere.
So she's probably a waitress or a bartender somewhere.
Nice try, Sherlock. I'm a phlebotomist.
And I have a brother. He lives in Wisconsin.
No food. Just ice cream and wine, so…
I'm thinking she's bulimic. Or an alcoholic.
Maybe both.
You ever met a girl going through a breakup before?
She's out there camping.
Trying to clean herself up.
Having one of those Eat Pray Love weekends.
Then this psycho thru-hiker comes out of the woods,
sees a hot girl,
probably tries to hit on her.
When she says "no", he goes Gothic on her.
Knocks her out, slits her throat, strips her down to her underwear
and…
carves some random numbers into her
to make it look like some kind of ritual thing.
Or she's a prostitute.
Okay, I'm not a prostitute.
I'm just a broke, slightly depressed girl who recently got dumped.
What happened to Mister "I respect all women. I love my mom"?
-Oh, my God. Todd. -Hey, prostitutes are some of
the most vulnerable women in our society.
It's fucking Todd.
We were together three years. We broke up two weeks ago.
Hey, freebie.
-Fucking Todd. -The password right here.
I will kill him if he killed me.
He was obsessed with that frigging reality show
about knives on the History Channel.
You know, it's like blacksmiths making weapons
and chopping shit up with them.
-It's basically school for murderers. -Wow. Wow.
Maybe a bear did it?
Hey.
Lot of emails from someone named Christina.
-Take your time. -Sorry.
Aren't you guys supposed to be wearing, like, trench coats or something?
Don't believe everything you see on TV, kid.
Well, I hope you solve this thing soon.
My sister's a mess.
I'm supposed to be the one babysitting him.
Not the other way around.
He seems a little old for babysitting.
Yeah, tell that to our parents.
Do you need anything?
No, I'm fine.
It's my fault.
-It was my idea for her to go camping. -Honey, no.
It is not your fault. You were just trying to be a good friend.
She wanted to just smoke weed and watch all 11 seasons of The X-Files.
But I was like, "What about getting some fresh air?"
She didn't even know how to work a camping stove.
Tell them about Todd. Todd. Todd.
Sorry, this is unreal.
Stop. You're gonna make me cry.
Motherfucking cramps!
If I am a ghost, why am I still getting cramps?
-Holy shit. -What was that?
Did I do that?
-Fuck, fuck, fuck. -You tell us. It's your house.
Fuck.
Shit, shit, shit.
-We went to her apartment. -Ass!
Not much there…
We looked at her Instagram.
You were her only girlfriend?
That's not true.
I had lots of friends. Tell 'em, lights.
Flicker.
I think most girls were probably jealous of her.
-How so? -No, were they?
Well, there was always some guy
kind of waiting in the wings, you know?
She was never single for more than, like, 48 hours.
And…
Like, guys always wanted to help her.
Or she knew how to get things
if she needed them.
So she was manipulative.
-She didn't say that. -No.
I think I'm describing her wrong.
You said that most girls were jealous of her. What about you?
No. I--
-Okay. This is your next big hunch? -It wasn't like that.
-My best friend killed me? Brilliant. -I'd never--
Just trying to get a sense of who she was, see if we can shake anything loose.
Okay.
Well, she was trying to go back to school.
If that helps.
She'd dropped out of college,
and I know she really wanted to get her degree.
But, well, sometimes she had trouble following through with things.
And, like, sometimes at dinner,
she would go on and on about all the chaos in her life
and, like, stuff with her and relationships.
But then I would get home and realize
that she hadn't really asked me anything about my life.
I loved her anyway.
Even if she wasn't always the greatest friend, you know?
Oh, my God.
This is, like, worse than A Christmas Carol.
Oh, fuck.
I'm never going to celebrate Christmas again. Goddamn it.
Do you need to call an electrician?
Maybe that was Becky.
Yes, I'm here. I'm here. I'm so sorry.
Is there anybody else that we should talk to?
Todd, Todd, Todd.
Have you spoken to Todd yet?
-Yes! -Who's Todd?
-Her ex. -Finally. Thank God!
He manages a bar
about ten minutes from here.
A bar. Okay.
Where are you, you fucking coward? I know you're here.
Murderer!
How could you do this to me? How could you be so fucking selfish?
See these fucking guys?
There are two guys coming for you.
You Todd? Todd Holt?
Yeah, why?
-You know why, fucking asshole. -You know Rebecca Moss?
Tell 'em.
Do I?
What she do now? Did she get arrested?
Why would I get arrested?
-What makes you think she'd be arrested? -Public indecency.
Last I saw her, she was dancing on the bar drunk,
trying to take off all her clothes to piss me off.
I don't think she's going to be taking off any clothes anytime soon.
-What's going on? Something happen to her? -Don't play dumb. They're detectives.
They're gonna find your fingerprints and semen everywhere.
-She was found dead. -It's over, Todd.
About 25 miles from here.
-No way. -I texted you that photo.
-You knew exactly where I was. -She's not dead.
-Oh, my-- You fucking used that-- -Yeah. She is, Todd.
-geolocation thing… -That's why we're here.
…or the fucking app you used to stalk me.
-'Cause you're a jealous stalker asshole. -She sent me a text last night.
-No shit. -Can we see it?
Sure.
See?
It's her middle finger in front of a sunset.
That's right.
To which you responded, "skull emoji, skull emoji, skull emoji."
Stupid asshole.
Then you called her a bitch.
I was pissed. Doesn't mean I killed her.
Doesn't mean you didn't.
-Why'd you break up? -None of your business.
Want us to get a subpoena, turn your life inside out?
Tell 'em.
I cheated on her. Okay?
-But I thought she was cheating on me… -Fucking said it.
…because she was always flirting with my friends, random guys at trivia night.
Even my cousin.
-Are you kidding me? -Where were you last night?
Your cousin grabbed my ass.
I spent the night at my girlfriend's. Janine. Check my Instagram.
Last night?
She's 18, just before you say anything.
She just looks young.
We made lasagna. Had lots of sex.
Her roommate can vouch for that part.
Well, the lasagna part checks out.
Look man, it wasn't me. Right? You know how girls get.
They're fucking crazy. People cheat all the time.
The fuck?
All right, all right.
-Goddamn it. -Oh, my-- Holy shit.
-I did it! -Fuck!
I did that. Oh, my God.
-Well, that went well. -Fuck that guy.
God, that felt good.
It was like all the anger in my body went right into Todd.
I gotta figure out how to do it again. Like, can you make as angry as Todd did?
-Hey, man, the guy's got an alibi. -So?
-I'm calling it. Gimme the keys. -It's not working.
-Fuck no. -What? We're not stopping now.
A girl is dead.
I'm not gonna stop until I have a lead.
-Thank you. -You're not gonna find anything, man.
You're just gonna obsess and obsess and get even drunker when you get home.
Better than going home to my wife, pretending I'm some hero cop.
Talking about how I spent all day
on some righteous mission to save all women.
Jesus, again?
Give me the keys. I'm serious.
You guys really need to work some shit out.
You can walk back to the station.
Jesus liked to walk, didn't he?
I feel bad for you, man.
Bye.
Yeah, we don't need you!
Although it is kinda weird that it wasn't Todd.
Like, I don't really have any other leads.
Good, yeah.
Can't believe Todd was the last guy I ever had sex with.
You never think about that when you're fucking someone.
Is this it? Is this the final dick?
I liked sex. I had a lot of it when I was alive.
But I was always so focused on whatever guy I was with,
whatever fucking relationship I was in.
Everything else took, like, a back seat.
I was really trying to change that.
That's why I went camping by myself.
I didn't want to wait for anyone to go with me.
And it wasn't easy.
I hate doing stuff by myself.
But, you know,
I was trying to, like, get comfortable with being uncomfortable.
And I wasn't flirting with his cousin.
I was just feeling insecure
because it was a family party
and I could tell his mom didn't like me and…
Are you the reason I'm still here?
Am I supposed to, like, help you help me?
Bronson.
Can you see me?
I don't think that woman murdered me.
I've never seen her before.
You're drunk.
I'm not drunk. I'm working.
This is why I got a restraining order.
Wait, is this your ex? Have we been stalking your ex-wife?
Don't. You'll wake the kids.
I can't stop thinking about you. You know that.
There was this girl. She was murdered.
She looked just like you.
That's what you were thinking about when you were looking at my dead body?
That I look like your ex-wife?
All right, you need to go before I call the cops.
-I-- -I am the cops.
That's it.
I am done.
I am so fucking done.
I can't believe I sat here for hours, waiting for him to do something.
You can't come inside.
I cannot die like this.
Mutilated in a fucking forest and forgotten about,
while all these fucking men are so far up their asses.
Anybody there?
That's fine.
You can fucking use my death to get back in her pants.
I'm gonna solve this thing myself.
Fuck yeah.
There's another Prius. White Prius.
Come on.
-Motorcycle. -See, that was cool.
-What, the hog? Yeah. -See that?
Sixty. Seventy-seven, 83, 90.
There you are.
Oh, boy.
Oh, God.
He's, like, extra upset by this investigation.
I'm not upset by the investigation.
A little scared.
Shit.
That's weird.
Carole.
Hey, that's the box I'm looking for, actually.
-It is? Okay. -Yeah.
-Fuck yeah. -Here you go.
Are we done with this shit?
I don't know, man.
What does it mean? Why? It's clearly a costume.
-What is this referencing? -Right.
Please find somewhere else to get sandwiches.
-I know. -Whatever, man.
-What the fuck, man? -Fuck!
This goddamn fucking desk. It's the second time it's happened today.
And this whip, it doesn't go at all with the costume.
Why not rope?
Why a whip?
Yes, Carole. We're mind-melding.
We are mind-melding.
Holy shit.
Jesus.
I loved you.
I told you things I didn't tell anybody.
I trusted you.
Why would you want to hurt me?
Were you jealous of my shitty dating life?
Of my shitty apartment? Of my shitty job?
In every book, it's always somebody you know.
But I didn't think it would be you.
Shit.
What happened?
Nothing, okay. I'm just--
I'm just drunk and I'm sad.
Okay? The only person who ever cared about me is dead,
so just please go back to your stupid game.
I'm serious, Chad. Leave me alone.
Okay. Sorry.
I'm sad too, you know.
Are you? Are you sad?
Stupid crush is different than eight years of friendship.
I don't understand.
You're a child.
I don't think I've ever even said more than two words to you.
I guess one time I called you "the virgin king,"
but that's just 'cause that's what Christina calls you.
Do you even realize?
Did you even think about the fact that I'm never gonna grow old?
Never gonna fall in love.
Never going to go to a Beyoncé concert.
I've never even left the fucking country.
What is that?
Who's "incel"?
If Gwyneth Paltrow's head is in here, I'm gonna be pissed.
Hey! Who left this for me?
Hi.
I think I have something on that murdered girl, Rebecca Moss.
You got it from here.
Come on. Pick up the phone.
Hello, you've reached the voice mail of Tina Brons--
When I was 11, I went to sleepaway camp. One of the places run by the YMCA.
And we would lie around at night telling ghost stories.
You know, the ones where someone's writing your name in blood on a mirror,
or, like, there's a man with a hook for a hand scraping at your car window.
And we'd tell these stories, and we would scream.
Because they were terrifying.
But also because we loved them.
Stories about people being murdered.
It's funny.
Even if you think about dying,
you don't ever think about being killed.
At least, I didn't.
And it wasn't even personal.
Who teaches a 16-year-old boy to hate women like that?
And who teaches him that kind of casual violence?
You should investigate that.
You okay?
Still thinking about the case?
No, actually, I was thinking about the nature of evil.
My dad, how he drank himself to death.
Right.
I'm gonna go.
You ever read any Milton?
I told you, I don't read books.
Think you'd like him.
Especially Paradise Lost. It's all about Satan. Fall of man.
Well, you can get it for me for Christmas then.
Thought you weren't religious.
I'm not, but I still like Christmas.
It's my kids' favorite holiday.
You got kids?