[shows Nikki a picture of Ray's corpse] He’s dead, in case you couldn't tell. Lady cop who printed you said you're a little tender. Around the middle, maybe? Got some bruises. See, I'm a simple guy. When it snows, I put on boots. Sun comes out, I wear shades. I see a girl like you and a guy like that, I think, "Now, how’s a working man with hillbilly hair and a beer belly land Miss State Penitentiary 2010?" And then I get the record. I see the girl has got 18 months’ probation, and the guy with his head half cut off was the schlub who signed the forms. Now it starts to make sense. I mean, stop me if I get it wrong, if this wasn't some kind of tit-for-tat handjob-gets-you-work-release program. If it was, whatever. Love story of the century. No? That’s what I thought. See? Simple things. Cause and effect, crime and punishment. Mash a potato, you know what you get? Mashed potatoes.
I want a lawyer.
Yeah? Well, that’s a mistake. Think it through. The evidence, shared domicile, you, a known felon, spinning a web of lies. History of domestic violence with a beer-drinking loser. You don’t have to be a mathematician to add two plus two. No. Your best bet? Tearjerker. What a monster he was. How he beat you every night where it wouldn’t show.
[Nikki says nothing]
[sighs] Okay. We’re done. I’ll leave the picture, in case you're the type of girl who likes to take pride in her work.
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