Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

So do you.
I'd left Dennis Jones back in Indio, came to the big city as Dennis Spring.
-Man must be very elusive. -Yeah, he's hard to find too.
You don't think Mrs. Spring has the right to know?
Hold on, David.
Drove her car off a cliff, like Michael Spring's wife.
You're crazy.
Guess I have some time.
It did?
Well...
-But you can't prove anything. -Yeah?
Hey, wait a minute, stewardess. I mean, flight attendant...
She wanted answers but couldn't live with them.
Mr. Addison, here's your ticket.
If anybody would know, you would. You've elevated denial to an art form.
It's okay.
They wouldn't reopen the case, some crap about double jeopardy.
Pretty soon you'll have me out of your flaxen locks.
I'm not getting older, I'm getting better.
I'll send you a postcard, all right?
...hunting down wanted criminals. I just dropped by this morning...
-The client. -Drove her car off a cliff.
She died 10 years ago. Drove her car off a cliff.
Man catches 40 winks, next thing you know, he's in a different climate.
Okay, Miss Hayes.
He took my Christina...
...I really should thank you for leading me to Dennis.
It's not as if there isn't someone ready, willing and able to fill his shoes.
But guys have to pretend like they're bulletproof...
It's easier just to skip the whole rigmarole and go to jail.
Hey, you need a lift?
Augie, don't do that. Please, sit down.
-What about him? -When we talked about him...
Pretty soon there won't be hardly any oxygen at all.
Yeah. Okay, go away.
Thanks again, Agnes.
I hope we don't go through that cactus field.
And a client's about to walk through that door...