Connie goes to Mr. Escandarian's home in Beverly Hills to confront him about buying the murder house.

As she waits for him to come into the room, she looks around at all of Mr. Escandarian's knick-nacks and attempts to put one in her purse, but he enters the room.

"Oh. Mr. Escandarian. How nice of you to agree to agree to see me. You have such a lovely home. It, um...Is this real crystsal?" Connie says nervously.

"I don't know. How much do you want?" He asks quickly.

Connie is taken aback by Mr. Escandarian's question.

"I beg your pardon?"

"For your house. I get it. I'm riding in on my white horse to rescue those people from their shithole. Make me an offer. I'm into it. I can tear your house down and put up a carport." Mr. Escandarian explains with a smug look on his face.

"You know, I would love a drink." Connie says.

He smiles at her and looks her up and down.

"Double vodka, no ice." Connie says interrupting him.

He walks over to the alcohol cabinet and grabs two glass and the vodka.

Connie follows closely behind.

"You're not from California, are you?" She asks.

"I'm from Armenia. My family moved to Beverly Hills when I was two."

"Used to be no one was from here. People came here to escape their past. Find a plot of land that not even a red Indian had set foot on and make a new life for yourself." Connie explains.

"Give me a number. I want history, I'll go talk to Gene Autry."

Connie hums and smiles at him and walks towards the large window that overlooks Mr. Escandarian's garden.

"But now there are no more virgin plots. We live on top of each other." Connie says.

She takes a sip of her drink in hand and continues to look out the window.

"That's California for you now and that's the world. There is no more space, and yet it's human nature to want to claim your own turf, so build away we do." She continues.

Joe sits down in this gold like throne chair and sips his glass of whiskey as he listens to Connie ramble on.

He wishes Connie would just go home so he can get back to his plans for the Grassi's house.

"Every time you put up one of these monstrous temples to the gods of travertine, you're building on top of someone else's life." Connie says.

"I'm a developer, I improved on the past. I build a new future." Joe says with a smile on his face.

"You should show some respect." Connie says with anger in her voice.

Joe's smile quickly drops from his face as Connie's tone of voice changes.

"You're not an archaeologist. You should stop unearthing while you're ahead. It only brings a haunting. We have a responsibility as caretakers to the old lands...to show some respect." Connie spats.

"Cemeteries are for the past. This is my time." Joe fires back.

"You can't tear down that house!"

"If you want to keep it so bad, buy it!"

Joe chugs his drink and walks away from Connie.

"Well, not all of us have been as fortunate as you!"

"Then piss off. You come into my house and insult me and give me a history lesson, and I'm supposed to back out of a deal that's gonna make me millions?" Joe asks as Connie stares him down with anger building inside of her.

"There are three reasons I deal with women. Sex, money or making me sandwiches. And unless you're planning on going into my kitchen and slapping some ham between two slices of bread, this conversation is over." Joe spats and bumps Connie's shoulder as he walks past her.

Connie slams the beautiful glass down on the coffee table hard and turns around to watch Joe walk up the stairs.

She decides if nothing she says will work, then she should try to scare him out of the deal.

"One day, you're time's going to end, and they'll be building on top of you too."

Joe nods and continues to walk upstairs back to his bedroom leaving Connie to see herself out of his house.

**

Mike and Scott sit in silence for a few minutes in Mike's office before Scott finally speaks up.

"You know, I really like talking to you, Dr. Grassi. You've helped me a lot. Maybe it's the drugs." Scott laughs.

Mike smiles and laughs with him.

Scott then looks up to Mike with a small smile on his face.

"I don't have anymore visions. I think it might have just been like a...like a screwy chemical imbalance. And, of course, the parenting." Scott says.

"Well, I'm glad you feel so much better, Scott. I really am." Mike says.

They both smile at each other for a second before Mike looks down at his watch for the time.

"Our session is over for today." Mike says.

Scott sighs and looks down at his feet.

Mike sets his pad of paper down on the table to the side of him and starts talking to Scott again before he leaves.

Look, I, uh...I need to ask you something. Off the clock. And I have no right, but I'm desperate." Mike says.

Scott nods and listens to Mike's concerns.

"I'm worried about Mitch." Mike says.

"I get that. He's your son. But, you know, he's not a little boy anymore, and at some point you're gonna have to let him go."

"He won't talk to me anymore. We used to be very close."

"He's been through a lot."

"He talks to you. I know he talks to you. What I'm getting at, Scott, is if Mitch is in trouble, real trouble, please come to me right away. I don't want to lose him. I can't. I wouldn't survive it."

Scott looks at Mike for a second as he can't believe how great of a father he is and he wishes he had a father like that growing up.

"I wish you were my father. My life would have been a lot different."