Back in the detectives squad we learn the contrived plot point that the victim was crunk rapper Heavy Drizzle’s financial adviser. This is just an excuse, though, to get Frost and Frankie to dance with each other. But first Frankie does his own white boy crumping and it goes well for no one. So Frost shows him how it’s done. But just as Frostie really start to get their groove thang on together, in stalks Sister Bitcher with her Ruler of Regrets. She gives them both a righteous smack and says how disappointed she is – in Barold.
I’m not. Barold can move, yo. Though, Francesco, perhaps stick to square dancing.
Back in Maura’s lab, she’s running critical scientific tests on last night’s dessert. She tells Jane, “We’re a match.” Jane bald-face lies and tells her, “You’re not really my type.” Oh, please. Maura’s face and our eyes know that’s 1,000 percent untrue. I though police officers had to take some sort of oath to tell the truth. Where’s that Ruler of Regrets when you need it?
Maura says she’s going to donate her kidney to Cailin anonymously. Jane says no, all Maura’s bits belong to her. Maura says she has to, and she can never tell Hope who she really is. Jane calls Maura, “incredible,” and slips in a little “I will still love you with only one kidney” eye sex. Maura says Jane would do the same for her brothers, to which she says, “Maybe.” But then she tells Maura, “I’d definitely do it for you, though.” In love. Together. Married. End of story. Thank you and good night.
Turns out the investment firm Mr. Dead Wood ran was really a Ponzi scheme. And they were also a front for an upscale sex club complete with high-class hookers and secret masked parties in foreclosed homes. If only I’d listened to my parents and majored in business in college.
Hope comes in to see Maura, because they’re BFFs now (but not LLBFFS, because that’s gross and this isn’t based on a V.C. Andrews novel). She tells her her daughter makes her feel like a failure and Maura says it’s mothers who always make daughters feel like failures. Oy, neither of you are failures. The Hope tells her an anonymous donor for Cailin has come forward while blathering on about the kindness of strangers. Look deeply into this face, Dr. Martin. This is no stranger. Sheesh, some expert in forensic identification. She doesn’t even identify her own daughter.
The detectives go to question the icy real estate agent, who was also a former hooker, and she shuts them out by entering an exclusive members-only restaurant. Jane calls Maura, because that’s what Jane always does, who is a member and they proceed to have lunch. But Maura’s frank anatomical talk is too much for the well-heeled set. Sheesh, you’d think they’ve never seen an attractive lesbian couple having lunch together before.
Jane spots the real estate agent going to the bathroom and follows her. Maura says she’s coming too and Jane grouses. But Maura has to pee, Jane. No one wants a bladder infection on top of vaginitis. Maura says she really does have to pee because all mammals have to pee. Jane should know this already because she’s clearly intimate with Maura’s bathroom with Maura in it.
They grill the realtor/madame and get her to give them access to the next party scheduled for that night. Then Maura convinces Lieutenant Cavanaugh to let her and her microscope go undercover with them. Jane is skeptical, because the last time Maura went undercover she shot her father and the first time she got jealous because Maura’s Rack of God was exposed for all the other lesbians to see.