Maura, however, is ecstatic and immediately starts brainstorming what they’ll wear out of her fetish closet. She says she’s never played a high-class hooker before. Really, all of your role playing and hooker/cop never came up? Come on, you even met Jane when she was in vice.
But instead of lacy negligee, Jane and Maura show up in white button-up shirts, black masks and bolo ties. It’s like we’re at the kinky gay rodeo. Jane makes the rounds pulling out the call girls’ hair for Maura to examine. There has to be a better way to do this, like say a search warrant and group trip to the precinct.
A drunken hooker stumbles into the washroom and finds Maura and her microscope there. But she’s too busy insulting Maura’s precious metal level to worry about why someone in catering has scientific equipment. Jane walks in as she calls Maura a “tin,” and promptly yanks out one of her hairs with great vengeance. No one insults Maura in front of Jane, no one.
But the hair doesn’t match up so Jane says she’ll have to track the last potentials down in the leather room. The mention of leather makes Maura’s eyes light up. She says leather bears further study as a historical fetish. Then she lists all the items in her own leather closet: corsets, dog collars, whips, belts. He voice trails off as she imagines all the various, delicious applications of said leather. Let’s all take a moment and imagine them with her – and Jane, together. Perhaps more than a moment. Talk amongst yourselves. I’ll be in my bunk.
But our little fantasy interlude is interrupted when the realtor/madame is found dead in the pool. Dammit, murder, always getting in the way of my hot lesbian subtext. Long story, who cares – it was the wife of one of the investment firm guys who killed both of them to get back at her husband.
Murder successfully solved, who should show up at Maura’s door but Cailin. She sulks in all teenage angsty and terrible. I know the kid is dying and all, but she’s reaching Bella Swan levels of annoying right now. She has figured out Maura is Hope’s daughter when she found the drawing in the bathroom. Also because it’s obvious to everyone with eyes and who isn’t named Dr. Hope Martin. She also says she doesn’t want Maura’s kidney, or any other piece of Maura, living inside of her. Angsty, terrible and ungrateful.
Hope arrives, after calling the police because Cailin took their car. Possibly not the best move, maybe you are a bad mother after all. Then Maura confesses that she is her daughter and Hope says, “This is my daughter” while clutching Cailin. Yep, Mother of the Year right here, folks.