Sinister

- Just one box?

- It's for my office. It's fragile.

Sissy.

Hey, dude, headphones.

You're gonna go deaf!

An autograph?

- I just thought that...

- Are you kidding me?

Mam?

- Sheriff.

- Your husband around?

Ashley?

Ashley?

Honey.

Sweetheart.

- What are you doing?

- Painting.

Yeah. I know. I think your mom

wants your help unpacking.

I know.

So come outside.

You can finish your painting later.

I didn't wanna move here.

I shouldn't have to carry boxes.

We had to move here

and we all have to help carry boxes.

- You wanted to move here.

- No, I had to move here.

The new story I'm writing is here.

Why can't you just keep writing

in the old house?

'Cause I was gonna have to write college

textbooks to pay for that old house.

- And I can't do that.

- Why not?

- 'Cause I just can't.

- But I miss my school.

Well, you know what? The school here

is supposed to be pretty great.

But I want my old one.

I know. How about this. all right?

I'll tell you what.

If we don't like it here,

once I sell my book, we'll move back.

But only if we don't like it here.

- Really?

- Really.

You promise?

I promise. But you have to promise

to try to like it here.

- I promise.

- You do? Now, my little artist.

- What's the number one rule?

- Paint only goes in the bedroom.

- Where doesn't it go?

- Anywhere else in the house.

Right. OK, now, come with me.

Move some boxes.

Sheriff's here.

- Already?

- Play nice this time.

- I'm always nice.

- I'm not kidding.

I'm tired of driving five miles under

the speed limit to get ticketed anyway.

Be nice.

Afternoon. Is there a problem?

No, sir. Just a friendly visit.

I appreciate that. Ellison Oswalt.

I know who you are.

- So you're not a fan.

- No.

Well, what can I do for you?

Well. not much, I expect,

unless I can convince you

to load those boxes back on that truck

and leave as soon as you're able.

No, I don't think so.

But, you know what.

I do have a couple of extra copies

of Kentucky Blood

if you want me to get one out

and sign it for you.

- No, thank you. sir.

- Is it the writing?

More a matter of content. You don't seem

to care much for our profession.

Not everybody in your profession

gets it right.

I've read your books. Neither do you.

- Look...

- You got it right in Kentucky Blood.

I'll give you that.

It's a fine piece of writing.

But Cold Denver Morning,

you got it wrong.

- Blood Diner...

- Look, that wasn't my fault. All right?

Your bad theory helped a killer go free.

You ruined people's lives.

Now. this town doesn't need that.

It needs to heal. It needs to forget.

We sure don't want that circus

that you bring with you.

Well, there's a missing girl

involved here.

- She ain't missing. She's dead.

- Come on. You don't know that.

If that girl is still alive,

then it ain't no miracle

and we ain't ever gonna find her.

Then I guess

we should just let it go.

You don't think the town

deserves an explanation?

Something like this... You can

never explain something like this.

And if you were able to. the odds are

you wouldn't much care for the answer.

Now. we did our job. You'll see that.

And this is just another waste

of your time like your last two books.

If writing true crime

has taught me one thing.

It's that whenever an officer of the law

tells me that I'm wasting my time,

it just means

he thinks he's wasting his.

That's clever.

You ought to write that down.

Well, I'm gonna go out on a limb

and assume your department

is not at my disposal?

Well, what do you know? You can still

get things right on occasion.

And... I find this to be

in extremely bad taste.

- What was all that about?

- The usual.

He wanted an autograph,

but he left his copy at home.

- He'll be back later.

- That bad?

Why was he pointing at the house?

Ellison, we didn't move in a few houses

down from a crime scene again. did we?

- Tracy...

- No. just don't say anything.

If we did. I don't wanna know about it.

- We didn't.

- You promise?

I promise.

Here. Make yourself useful. Kitchen.

It's gonna be good here. OK?

You'll see.

Sh*t.

Sh*t.

You gotta be kidding me.

Family Hanging Out, '11?

Barbeque. '79?

I've also got noodles

and fortune cookies.

Enjoy, kids. We're not likely

to be able to eat out much this time.

- Why not?

- You know why.

- I don't.

We haven't sold the old house yet.

Once ifs gone, we'll be able to afford

a few extra things.

Then sell it already.

Lower the price if you have to.

We've already lowered it

as much as we can.

The market's terrible. Once we're not

paying two mortgages, we'll be fine.

And once I sell my new book,

we'll be on Easy Street.

- Is the story a good one this time?

- Yeah, its good. Of course it is.

- Will you show me where it happened?

- Trevor.

I'm old enough to know about this stuff.

No, you're not. Even I'm not old enough

to know about this stuff.

Your father writes about

terrible, terrible things.

- I shouldn't be writing about it?

- That's not what I meant.

That's the way you said it.

I'm gonna hear about it

at school anyway.

Kids'll all hate me again and tell

me nonstop what happened.

- Hey' nobody hates you.

- I might as well hear it from you.

- Are you listening to this?

- Yes. I'm listening.

Let's at least make sure

your office stays locked.

It's one thing to hear about it,

another to see it.

I don't want him walking in again.

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