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“So you reckon Reuben Maggard could be hiding out with his old man?” Art looked at the paper trail Tim had put together for him.
“It’s worth a shot. Only family we know of. ‘Sides Maggard senior’s meant to be pretty far gone with dementia. He might not know.”
“Harlan County?” Art went to pull open the door. Both of them could see Raylan at his desk, eyes on his computer screen, even though he was leaning back into his chair.
“Don’t,” said Tim. Art raised his eyebrows at him, hand still on the door. “I got this.”
“Something gone down between you two I should know about?”
“No.”
“Well then. If it’s something that wriggling about in Harlan he’s the best short cut we got.”
“I can do it on my own.”
“Sure you can. Raylan, get in here.”
Tim cursed himself for not simply setting off on the trail of Reuben Maggard and calling it in when he was half way there. Being torn off a strip over the phone was preferable to Art roping in Raylan to hold his hand. There was a beat before Raylan looked up, that I don’t have to jump when you yell set to his shoulders, before he pushed his chair out and made his way to the open door of the office. He was still favouring his left side.
“Gutterson here thinks he’s got a good lead on a fugitive in Harlan County. I think you could just take the drive with him, show him the way of your kin.”
This must be getting old, thought Tim.
“Art come on. The doc said no heavy duties.”
“It’s sitting in a car Raylan and interviewing a ninety year old wheelchair bound man who has by all accounts lost all good sense anyway. Do you good to work together. Gutterson seems to be under the impression that he doesn’t want to work with you and I am giving him the opportunity to disabuse himself of that notion.”
Raylan looked at him then, raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought we had bonded so well escorting that young lady to the obstetrician.” For a moment Tim had stilled thinking Raylan might drag up the night I watched you snoring passed out for 4 hours on your own couch as his go to example of male bonding.
Tim kept his mouth firmly shut lest he dug himself a bigger pit than he had already. He didn’t like Art very much right now.
The first half and hour of the drive passed in silence after Tim had asked if Raylan was sure he was up to a three hour car ride.
“You seriously got a problem with me?” Raylan actually looked hurt by the idea.
“Why is that seriously so hard to believe?”
Raylan just shrugged. Tim let the silence ride out for a while. He could hardly tell Raylan that he was pissed at Art because he had interfered with Tim’s self-enforced keep Raylan at arm’s length because you want him really rule. Then he began to feel self-conscious because maybe not talking at all was coming across as weird. He picked what he hoped was a safe enough question.
“Your side still bothering you?”
“I’ll live. Just wanted to remind Art I did get shot. Rachel not free?”
“Nah that cross state investigation she briefed us about?” Raylan managed to look both puzzled and disinterested at the same time. “Person of serious interest from Tennessee they think has crossed into Kentucky?”
“Un-uh?”
Tim took pity on Raylan’s failure to catch up on all current cases. “FBI reckon they got some major serial killer hunt on, only now she’s a fugitive ‘cause she got picked up on a minor misdemeanour just inside the state line, false ID and vanished. Rachel’s up to her eyes in liaison.”
“So you’re stuck with me against your wishes.” Raylan grinned.
Tim drew in a breath. “Look, Art got the wrong end of the stick. I don’t have a problem with you.” Apart from a major problem with you “Last time Maggard went awol he came in quietly. Didn’t think I needed the back up. “ Tim found he could lie easily if they were both looking ahead through the wind screen despite the fact it was almost like Tater was sitting on the back seat so loud was his voice in the car Come on Guts! He got a name, this someone hot at work?
“Art still treating you as the new guy?” Raylan was still grinning at him.
“Says the new guy.”
“I think of myself as bringing my wisdom and experience to a new set of co-workers. Once you hit forty the new guy tag doesn’t stick. Although that is a ways off for you.”
“Well I’m expecting a kindly female care worker to answer the front door so you can make yourself useful charming information out of her while I tackle the dangerous felon with the gun. That shouldn’t be too strenuous for you.”
Raylan pulled his hat down. ”Wake me up at the coffee stop.”
“You think I’m gonna stop for your coffee?”
But Raylan had already closed his eyes.
+++++++++++++++++++++++
Merralyn punched in the key code then took a deep breath, a big lungful of clean good air before she pushed in the front door to Mr Maggard’s house. It smelt so bad of his feet in here.
“It’s just me Mr Maggard. Merralyn.” Might as well call out she was Dora the Explorer. It wouldn’t make a jot of difference to the old man.
She stuck her head through into the living room and called hello again. Then went and stood in front of the TV to get Seth Maggard’s attention. “Hi there Mr Maggard. How we doin’?”
“Is that you Susan? I want my breakfast. I’m hungry.”
“It’s supper time. You eat the crackers I left out this morning?” There had been some tectchy to and fro with the agency and the daughter about leaving food out for the old man. Merralyn had suggested crackers after his diabetes ruled out sweet biscuits.It was all Mr Haggard could be trusted with.
Merralyn tracked back to the kitchenette and unlocked the cupboard with the kettle and dry food things. She’d have to get some more oatmeal ‘fore his duaghter Evelyn came again, picking at everything she was trying to do. The old man sure liked his porridge. She yelped as she touched the fridge, the static making her jump. Shitty cheap shoes. The pink nylon tunic and trousers made her sweat. The whole uniform was gross.
A hot and frustrating half hour later cajoling the old man into pyjamas and shovelling hot dogs into him she pulled the door shut, gave it a shove to make sure and then turned to step of the porch to find a man tipping his hat at her.
“Ma’am.” Jesus but he was good looking. She spared a brief glance for his sidekick hovering behind but didn’t waste much time on the effort.
She looked at the badge Mr Handsome was holding out to her to give herself a moment. Took a tighter grip on her bag. “A marshal?”
“I can assure you Ma’am you have nothing to worry about. You work for the care agency?”
“What gave it away? My high fashion uniform?”
He smiled real nice then and asked her name. “Who’s askin?”
“I’m Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens, this”- he gestured over his shoulder with his thumb – “is Deputy Marshal Tim Gutterson. We’ve come to talk to Mr Haggard.”
Merralyn snorted. “Well good luck with that. He just spent the visit bitching at me like I was his long dead wife.”
“We just want to ask some questions about his son.”
“The one in prison? He won’t remember.”
“Perhaps if you came back in with us Miss?”
“Really? I got another client to see to this evening and half an hour to get there. The agency don’t pay overtime or my gas.” Still, she thought, it had been a hard and shitty week. “You wanna find out what I know? You –“she pointed at Raylan with her car keys –“can drive with me, he can follow on behind.”
The deputy pulled a ‘why not’ face at his partner then put out his arm to gesture that she lead the way. She half thought he might sweep of the hat too. Instead he said, “that accent Miss. You not from round here?”
“No shit.” Merralyn looked at him through her overlong bangs.” You are though. A really you-all type ain’t ya?” The other marshal, the less good looking one, huffed good humouredly at her cheek. She tested her luck even further. “Here,” she said holding out her keys. “I need a break. You drive.” Merralyn gave a passing thought to how the two men didn’t need to talk to each other to agree, just a single look passed between them before Handsome took her keys, and opened the passenger door for her. She didn't miss Mr Short-arse's snort of derision at that one.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Half an hour later with Tim following behind the dirtiest sky blue Nissan Tim had ever seen Raylan unfolded himself from the driver’s seat and stretched out his back before he tipped his hat and strolled back over to Tim’s SUV. They both watched her go through the door of her next care call.
“Well from what I could see you didn’t have to kiss her to get her to talk. Seemed like you did all the listening.”
“Miss Merralyn Taylor has been tending to Seth Maggard’s care needs for four weeks now. Time enough to notice his food intake has shot up recently even though all the food is supposedly locked away from him. Today the TV wasn’t on its usual channel. She doesn’t think the old man has got the ability to use that remote.”
“Food locked away?”
Raylan narrowed his eyes. “He gets the basic paid for through a war pension. It ain’t a five star hotel. She leaves out crackers. The daughter makes visits when she can during the day. Yesterday, today, all eaten up but no shower of crumbs on the carpet like he usually leaves.”
“And the missing food?”
“The lock is only a roll around, the numbers are worn. It’s just to fool Mr Maggard.”
“You’ll have to deputise her, with those detecting skills.”
“She’s a smart young lady. Wasted in that job. Shame she can’t afford a better ride.” He stretched again, giving Tim a view of the hairs on his belly.
“Surprised you didn’t leave her to call in CSI.”
“Think Reuben be dumb enough to leave prints?”
“Harlan County Raylan. Where dumb thing is not to buy the Sherriff off.”
Raylan ignored him, focusing on what they could do, a short cut solution as always. “We got reason to believe that a vulnerable war veteran is in very real danger of abuse. If we were to return to Mr Maggard’s front porch I am sure we would hear a cry for help necessitating the breaking down of a door.”
“Could just start with driving back to look round the outside of the property. ‘Fore we rush in and kill the war veteran with a coronary.”
“You spend too much time with Art and Rachel.”
A walk round the house and a peer through windows didn’t give them much more than a screen door which showed recent marks of being jemmied. Tim stood on the back porch and looked at the aspect. No neighbours overlooking this way in and out. A densely wooded slope provided cover. “How about we make a convincing display of driving off, looking disappointed?”
“Seem something?”
“Hmm. He is that kind of dumb. Flash of sun on a lens, about two o’clock.”
Tim turned and left. He knew Raylan was too smart to search for the evidence himself and would just follow Tim to the car. His fascination with the man had started with photographic evidence of his good looks, followed up by an appreciation of his body and attitude. Now, though, he got a kick out of knowing that Raylan’s could think on his feet and think smart. The thing Tim perhaps missed most in his civilian colleagues.
They sat in the car and made their respective phone calls. Art was short and to the point enough that Tim could hear Winona’s squawks coming through Raylan’s phone.
“She’s pissed at you.” It took a small delight at rubbing it in. Raylan rolled his eyes. “What did Art say?”
“Yes and yes.” And then to Raylan’s narrowing of the eyes he graciously expanded, “yes to the overnight in a motel. Yes to getting the Staties involved. He reckons one day of a trip alarm and a couple of hidden cameras should do it if Reuben has no other source of funds.”
“How are we going to get those in there?”
“Seems Rachel wanted to check out this care agency’s staff anyway for another lead. She’s gonna look a peach in that pink uniform.”
“Please tell me you left Art to break that to her?” Tim let the teeth show in his grin of delight. Giddy at the thought of the look that Art would be on the receiving end right about now, that and the evening ahead with Raylan.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Burgers and two cokes later they were in a bland motel room, two single beds and a kitchenette. Raylan had surprised Tim by getting a jar of coffee out of his overnight bag. The diner hadn’t been crowded enough to allow for discussing the current case, their presence had provoked too much attention so as much chat as Raylan was prepared to indulge in was limited to that narrow band between past cases and their personal lives. Their one foray in that latter territory was Raylan’s rescue mission to find Tim near passed out in his own living room and Tim had built enough defences since to deter a small army of well-meaning colleagues intent on improving his well-being. He figured it was only fair Raylan has this one insight given his own witnessing of the man’s private hell which was Arlo drunk enough not to care about smacking his son in public. They were all square in Tim’s eyes but it didn’t leave much to talk about in public.
Now the man had shed his boots, coat and hat in that order and was rolling his shoulders walking to the bathroom.
“You think she’s in on it? Pink nylon girl?” Tim was still trying to provoke Raylan into talking about something, anything, before they hit the sack and he tried to sleep.
It gave Raylan enough pause to turn at the door. He had already pulled his belt through the buckle.
“Could be. Yeah, it’s worth looking at that.” He stood there a beat longer considering Tim, or at least Tim’s idea. Top button undone.
“You stand there any longer like that I’m going think that is an invitation to suck your dick.” It would either start a conversation thought Tim, or stop it dead. Fifty fifty was good odds.
Raylan’s reaction was no more or less than he would give to any of Tim’s crude remarks. A really, that’s what we’re going with raise of his eyebrows. Then he turned smartly and shut the door on Tim
Tim heard the flush and then Raylan came back out, on rewind, putting his belt back in place his final action.
“See if I was Rachel, you’d be at the receiving end of a disciplinary before you could blink. “
“If you were Rachel I’d be lucky to get away with my balls attached. You saying that from experience of trying it on with her?” Tim knew from the woman himself that that had never happened but he could still poke the fire.
“Rachel? I’d think she rather spend the night in a room full of performing dogs barking out Dixie. And just for the sake of clarity here I learnt a long time ago that bedroom antics are best avoided with co-workers. “
Tim grinned. “So you have tried it with someone?” The provocation had been worth the gamble because Raylan, not wanting to miss out on showing himself as a man of a many adventures, of course had a story. “My first office. All I am saying is she was an older marshal and she made it clear that she was being strictly opportunistic. I was the idiot distracted from their work for weeks afterwards, pissing my boss off with missed reports.”
“So you saying you stopped accepting workplace rolls in the sack on account of it interferes with paperwork?”
“Yep. And then I met Winona. That woman is an army of distraction all on her own.” Raylan started to get his shirt buttons undone and Tim feeling that this was an act he couldn’t cope with witnessing took his turn in the bathroom. By the time he had showered and changed, he found the main light off and Raylan already in bed with a book in his hand.
Of course - just in his undershirt.
Tim got into his bed and pulled the covers up to his chin, feeling overdressed in a clean t-shirt and shorts but in the warm glow of the single bedside lamp Raylan seemed to be in a sharing mood. He put his book down on his chest. “You got any stories from your serving days. Trysts behind the cookhouse?”
“Nah. I was more interested in catching up on sleep each time I got back to base.” Tim had no intention on allowing Raylan to bat this back to him. ”You stick to your rule even in Miami?”
“What?”
“Not dipping your dick in the company ink?”
“You know Gutterson, you missed your vacation with Mills and Boon.”
Raylan however favoured an audience and was not to be put off, even for stories that showed him in a less than good light. “You could say I have a very narrow definition of co-worker when it comes to shunning bedfellows. They were nearly all in some form of law enforcement. Even a bounty hunter.”
“Please don’t tell me any of them were feebs Raylan.”
Raylan snorted. “That where you draw the line? One was worse in your book.” He held a hand flat to his chest and dropped his head in mock penance. “Oh lord I have a confession. One of them was an AUSA.”
“That’s a gross misconduct charge right there.”
“Well let me know if my sinning ways are too much for you in the morning. You need this on?” Raylan reached for the switch on the lamp.
“Nah. I’m good. Have a whole book here” He waggled his phone. “S’what they call an electronic device, stores lots of them words.”
Raylan just rolled his eyes before killing the light and for a few minutes all that could be heard was the swish of cars on the highway, and then the door of the adjoining room thumping, followed by muffled giggles and the whump of two bodies hitting a mattress.
“Jesus I hope she ain’t a screamer.”
Raylan just snorted and Tim lay there, not ready to start reading. Orange light spilt over the top of the drapes, now and then punctured by car headlights.
“That a relationship? More than just casual? “Tim had been musing on how that would be, with colleagues knowing your business.
“Huh?”
“In Miami, with your states attorney.”
“A year. “
“A big deal then?”
“Felt it at the time.”
Before he could censor his curiosity and consider Raylan might not want to be asked, “So why did it finish?”
Raylan paused long enough Tim wondered if he had pushed too far.“Tommy Bucks. “
Tim turned his head then. Raylan kept his eyes trained on the ceiling and for a moment Tim thought that was all he was going to impart but after a beat Raylan continued. “Turns out an AUSA will review the ethical and moral implications of their boyfriend’s decisions, not just the legal rights and wrongs. I was found wanting.” The light heartedness had slipped out of Raylan’s tone, replaced by a disinterest. As though he was trying to prevent a resurgence of unwanted emotion by making the whole episode sound as boring as possible yeah so I picked up some groceries, dropped off my dry cleaning, gunned down a cartel hard man on a hotel roof, got shat on from a great height by my employer and my lover.
“They know about Buck’s record tho’? What he did to you?” Tim was affronted on Raylan’s behalf.
“Yep.”
That had to hurt. He rapidly did the math, Jesus, it was barely a year ago. Tim let a few more cars go by figuring out what questions it was OK to ask of Raylan in his moment of sombre reflection.
So you only broke up just before you came to the Kentucky office? Stating the obvious.
So do you miss her? Seemed a bit redundant given the whole expecting a baby with the ex-wife deal.
Was it worth it? Seemed to trite for the enormity of Raylan’s actions and the many consequence it had brought down on him
Raylan started snoring.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“More coffee honey?” The waitress filled his cup up before he could think to say no. Raylan was quicker.
“Thank you Suzanne. I’m just fine.” Of course he had already clocked her name on her welcome badge. She gave Raylan a wrinkly nosed smile before walking away instead of being offended by Raylan’s hand firmly covering the top of his cup.
“You actually gonna drink that shitty coffee?”
“I’m tired.” Tim groused into his cup. “Our neighbours kept me awake.”
They would have to move out soon, liaise with the staties and make sure pink nylon girl had got the message that she would have an assistant today, but Tim still needed to wake up properly to face another day’s driving. Raylan was pretending his side wasn’t sore but Tim didn’t want to risk the consequences if Raylan had to do some emergency braking. He looked at Raylan’s profile, absorbed in some report about a county fair in yesterday’s local paper.
“So with the AUSA?”
“Uh?”
“Anyone else know?”
“This what kept you awake? Worrying about my love life? We disclosed.”
“Unh. “ His own juvenile exclamation caught Tim by surprise, a response more suited to Raylan boasting about being allowed to put his hand up the blouse of a popular cheerleader and then giving a whispered confession on the back row of biology class, rather than the unexpectedly grown up reality of two adults who wanted a relationship being well, adult about it.
“That shocked ya.” Raylan smiled, folding up the newspaper. Tim thought about the difference between brave because a uniform demanded it, and being brave when all reasonable self-preservation instincts shouted at you to keep your head down.
“How about you? You got most of my dirty linen now. You tellin’ me there isn't anyone from your past you're not pining over? Not one person you want to reach out to?”
“I’d need to employ a spiritualist.” It was a silly, shitty way to tell him. Tim could see the hardness take hold round Raylan’s mouth. See that’s how you push them away Gutterson.
Raylan signalled for the check and then sorted some bills out of his wallet. Tim put down his share and then an over generous tip. Someone should benefit from his contriteness after all.
They walked out in silence. Tim started the car, then just let the engine hum in park, then turned it off again. Raylan didn’t comment. In the early light they both watched a truck pull in to the lot, two young men in checked shirts and jeans scramble out, the one knocking the baseball cap off the other before scampering up the steps.
“So what I said, that I didn’t …. when I was serving, over a couple of tours, in basic too – there was someone.”
They watched as the cap was pushed along by the wind before the young man could snatch it up.
“Sounds like more than an affair. That length of time.”
“Yeah.”
Through the window Tim could see Suzanne, her kind smile no doubt favouring the better looking of the two boys as she arrived at their table with her coffee pot.”
“They stepped on an IED. Start of our, my last tour.”
Left instead of right
“That ….”
“Sucks, yeah.”
Tim’s mouth felt gummed up with breakfast syrup. “It is what it is.” That sounded lame even to him.
Raylan kept blissfully quiet until Tim turned the ignition on again then didn’t pry any further. “Shortest route is to head out towards Cumberland. I’ll tell you when the turn comes up.”
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Art phoned when they were about ten minutes shy of the rendezvous location. “We got a problem,” Raylan held his hand over the phone with Art still on the other end, “Merralyn hasn’t reported for work this morning, missed her 7 o’clock client. Ain’t answering the phone or her front door now.”
“What time’s Merralyn due at Maggard’s? “
“Hear that Art?” He listened, and then to Tim, “anytime between 8 and 9.”
“So Reuben isn’t gonna to be in a hurry to leave until just before 8. How far you up to walkin’?”
Raylan gave Tim a wicked grin. “Art, change of plan.”
They stopped about 500 yards back from the house, hidden by a bend in the road. It was still shy of 8 and Tim argued that Reuben would be used the sound of Merralyn’s engine with its tell-tale grumble. “He’s not going to leave until he has to, and then he’s going out the back.” He left Raylan to walk through the wood in front of the house to cut off Reuben if he did bolt out the front and then made the much harder journey to get to the back of the property unseen. They were going to wait until gone 8 and then for Raylan to make a big show of trying the door so Reuben would just bolt. After a careful half walk, half crawl through scrubby bushes Tim radioed to say he was in position, then hunkered down to wait. Several flies found him immediately, bumping into his cheeks. He guessed the drone of flies must sound the same pretty much everywhere.
It had been such a simple plan, if only some fuckwit in the care agency had bothered to mention they had already told Maggard senior’s only other child, the responsible and frankly terrifying Evelyn, that they might not be able to cover the breakfast shift. Before Raylan could step out of the woods to slow her progress she shot up the track in her pick up truck, braked hard in the gravel and within two strides was at and through the front door with a bag of groceries in her arms. Barely after Raylan had radioed the problem Tim could hear her surprised what the fuck you shit head from his spot crouched in the brush in the back yard and then the back door flew open and Reuben shot out trying to pull his pants and shorts up in the wrong order as Evelyn appeared in the open doorway levelling a shot gun at her fleeing brother.
Tim was still making his way close enough to the porch to cut off paths of flight and prayed she would spot his baseball cap and vest before she pulled the trigger even if she didn’t hear “US Marshal’s Service Ma’am Don’t Shoot” bellowed out as he ran and made a dive for Reuben., his nose planting firmly in Reuben’s still bare butt cheek as he bought the fucker down. God he hoped Reuben had had a chance to wipe before he was startled out of the john by his sister.
And of course that was the point that Art, Rachel and Raylan chose to make an appearance round the side of the house.
“See this,” Reuben squawked, “this here is sexual harassment right here.” He was trying to cover his balls by pulling down his shirt with the arm Tim wasn’t twisting behind his back.
“I’ll be sure to give you the right form to fill in Mr Maggard.” Art took pity on Tim and stepped up to Reuben. “Now if you promise not to run off my deputy will let go so you can make yourself decent.”
“Wait, Marshals Service?” Evelyn had joined them, gun broken over her arm. “You knew this fucker was here with my dad?”
"He's my dad too, I have every right-" Reuben was silenced by Evelyn slapping him hard across one cheek, a move that surprised Tim and nearly had him and Reuben tumbling backwards into a bush. Raylan made a grab for Reuben, now complaining really loudly about abuse in federal custody, effectively blocking Evelyn from any more assaults, however warranted. "If you don't mind Ma'am" he said before he and Tim managed to half walk half drag Reuben back to car, Tim limping where the dip shit had landed on his foot.
Of the two options doing prisoner transport with Raylan seemed preferably to dealing with a very angry Evelyn, even if it did mean he was going to have to put up with a lot of ass-based puns on the long drive back to Lexington, alongside Reuben's insistent wining. Tim was really keen to know what line Reuben would have to cross before he got locked in the boot.
It was still only noon when they made it back, got Reuben checked in to the courthouse cells, and Tim was contemplating which pile of paperwork to tackle first. Raylan had no such qualms.
“Leave those. It’s lunchtime man.” It took Tim a beat to realise he meant lunchtime as in come have lunch with me man. “Sides we’re owed hours. Come on.” He strode off adjusting his hat and he might as well have whistled at a service dog for all that Tim hesitated in following him. Lunch meant pasta in a quiet family run restaurant that Tim had not yet discovered even though he had been posted in Lexington twice as long as Raylan. But he had reckoned without Raylan’s long association with Kentucky. “Were do you think I went to college? Checked out if this place was still here when I got shunted back. Reckon it’s the same owner.” Tim’s shitty behaviour from breakfast was seemingly forgiven.
“You got as far as Lexington then, when you lit out.” Tim didn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
“Well you’ve been to Harlan. This seemed like another planet to me when I got off the bus. Far enough away from Arlo anyway.”
And Boyd Crowder? Tim wanted to say, but didn’t.
They sat waiting for their order to be brought to the table and Raylan spread out yet another newspaper in front of him. Jesus, who read papers in print these days. Tim wondered afterwards what made him break the companionable silence, Raylan being so forthcoming or the lunch invitation – a first for them – or the fact the man had been so honest with Tim about his time in the Miami office. He cleared his throat. “So – last night, I mean what we were talking about last night – about workplace relationships? And them not ending well.”
Raylan not only looked up from the paper, he folded it and rested his arms on top of it. Tim decided he didn’t like the arrangement of the ketchup and the mustard bottles.
“Getting blown up on a tour of duty for your country? That there is the very definition of Not Ending So Well.”
Tim allowed himself a wry smile at the refreshing lack of sentiment. “Turns out there was someone else back home, a fiancée.”
“Shit. And you had no idea?”
Tim shook his head.
“Not like it’s my business but you don’t seem that over it.”
“Yeah well, I only found out a couple of weeks ago, so…”
Again Raylan seemed to understand the best times to keep quiet. Tim thought about how this would one of those no going back moments. He’d said enough already.
“Sean. The person I served with. The one who died. He was called Sean.” It would have been easier saying this sitting side by side in a parked car than face to face across a table but Raylan didn’t give any visible negative reaction.
“OK.”
“And just to be absolutely clear, in case you hadn’t worked it out already with those fine marshal skills, I’m –“
“Gay?” Raylan smirked. “I could pretend I’m shocked if you like.”
Tim wasn’t going to give Raylan the satisfaction of having the last word. “What was it? The large rainbow flag behind my desk?”
“Nah. The feather boa that fell out your locker that one time.”
“I look like the feather boa type of queer to you?”
Raylan pretended to appraise Tim seriously through half closed eyes
“Fuck off Givens.”
“Just little things. Your face when that Sherriff cracked out his faggot jokes, or your put down to Anderson when he bellyached about court duty for that rights activist case a while back. And I saw you one night, out at a bar. He seemed like more than a drinking buddy.“
OK.
But Raylan wasn’t done, “I’m sorry about him. About Sean.”
“Yeah, well”. As eptitaphs went it wasn't the most eloquent. Perhaps Tater could find out for him where Sean's grave was.
Tim blinked and looked around the joint. It felt good, someone he worked with knowing, other than Rachel, like they had crossed some line separating colleagues from, what? Friends maybe. He sneaked a look at Raylan.
“I’m sorry about your shit for brains AUSA. She sounds pretty dumb.”
A matter of context and what Tim had been paid and praised for was what had condemned Raylan to no less than exile. Tommy Bucks was a dangerous enemy, just on their doorstep in Miami and not in a faraway shitty desert. It seemed very unfair.A whole life left behind which Tim had not had cause to think about before.
“Did you think of them when you did it, I mean did you think that is what might happen, she might leave you?”
But just then with perfect timing the waitress turned up with their order and of course she wanted to stay to chat to Raylan and then Art rang Tim’s phone bellyaching about finding an office empty of his deputies, taking out the strip he had got torn off by Evelyn on Tim. So by the time Tim got off the phone and the waitress had moved on Raylan had found a funny story in the paper that he wanted to read chunks out of to Tim, and that, apparently, was all Tim was going to learn about Raylan’s Miami liaison.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Rachel was in Art’s office and Art was looking right at them as they walked through the doors. “Shit what did you do?” Raylan asked him out of the corner of his mouth.
“Nah, it’s never me. It’s always you.”
Art knocked on his office window and pointed deliberately at first one than the other of them. Rachel just raised an eyebrow.
Turns out they were both in the shit. “Boys who’s this a picture of?”
Raylan squinted at it, Tim wasn’t sure at first but then he looked more closely. Her hair was a different colour and she had been wearing contacts not glasses but the head and shoulders in the blown up fuzzy driver’s licence photo was recognisable.
“Oh.” said Tim
“Oh is right,” said Art. “Raylan?”
He still looked puzzled. “Shorter blond hair? Pink tunic?” Tim prompted him, stopping short of 'you drove her car with her in it for 15 minutes' because he could recognise a sense of humour failure tsunami about to roll off Art.
“Oh,” said Raylan.
“Do want to tell me why you had eyes on Tennessee’s most wanted and top of Rachel’s to do list for this month, more than eyes, clearly had a conversation with her, most likely flirted with her – not you obviously – “ he tapped Tim on the chest – “and yet still failed apprehend her and bring her in?”
“To be fair Art you didn’t meet her. She looked different, didn’t she look different Gutterson?”
“Now Tim, remember who’s your boss here.”
“Yeah, but Art without the glasses …” he didn’t get any further.
“Son, if I find that you have switched your allegiances to this son of a bitch I am going to be very disappointed in you. Very disappointed.” He punctuated that with a very firm look over his glasses.
“Yes Sir.”
“Tim did probably save Mr Maggard’s life though.” Rachel chanced mollifying Art.
“From that dip shit of a son?” said Raylan.
“No from the Angel of Mercy. Merralyn or whatever her real name is. Humour him Rachel. Jog his memory of the salient facts of the Feebs’ investigation.”
”She targets vulnerable sick people living on their own. Usually goes in via a small local care agency. Fleeces their homes of valuables bit by bit and then crushes sleeping pills in their bedtime hot chocolate. Ironically the ones she doesn’t help on their way, they all think she is an angel. Nothing too much trouble.”
“So us going to interview Maggard-”. Raylan did a good job of not sounding too smug.
“Spooked her maybe, before she administered a fatal dose. Evelyn reckons she had already made off with the dead wife’s jewellery.”
“Who is this ‘us’ Givens? Don’t you try to muscle in on my legwork.”
“Don’t get too smug either of you.” Art had had enough “Take the time owed. Back here bright and early on Monday.”
Tim turned to go but Raylan didn’t move. “Her prints in the system?”
“Too many at any of the crime scenes to eliminate.” Rachel said, “Why?”
But Raylan had already plucked a paper tissue from Art’s desk tidy to hold onto his badge the edges. Held it out to Rachel. “She held it yesterday when she looked at it, should get a thumb print off it and it’s just my prints otherwise.”
“OK, I’ll reduce the sit rep down to pissed off,” said Art.
“And where’s Greer’s Ferry Lake?”
“I got a feeling you gonna pull another rabbit outta hat to spoil all my fun at being mad at you Raylan. Why do you want to know?”
“She had a medallion on her key ring. That’s what it had stamped on it. Welcome to Greer’s Ferry Lake.”
Rachel already had her phone out to Google in response to Art’s “Hell if I know.”
“It’s Arkansas,” said Tim. “Cleburne County.” Everyone looked at him. “Grew up not far.”
Raylan shrugged. “Maybe she kept it for sentimental reasons. Worst places to start.” With that he turned and left Art’s office.
The lift doors were closing on Raylan when Tim put his hand out to stop them
“You’d never bothered to look at that file Rachel circulated did you?”
Raylan just shot him a look from under the brim of his hat. “OK, I owe you one for keeping quiet. See you Monday Gutterson.”
Tim was hit by another thought and an exasperated look from Raylan when he stopped the lift doors from closing again.
“What now?”
“Just so we’re clear, I’m not interested in being a poster boy for Gay Pride in the Kentucky Marshal’s Service. It’s just Rachel, Art and now you that know. I want to keep it that way.”
“Yeah, I get that. Figured even you would’ve tried flirtin’ a little bit with me if you hadn’t cared who knew.” Tim was more than glad he had his face turned away just then, pressing the button for the parking garage to send Raylan on his way.
“Just … sayin’.”
“OK.”
“OK then.”
Luckily his phone pinged then, Mark texting to see if he wanted a beer or five. Tim thought they had finished but Raylan stopped the doors one more time.
“What you were asking earlier about shooting Bucks and the consequences? About whether I thought it would split up my relationship. We were probably heading towards a break up anyway.”
“Oh. Ok.” It seemed odd that Raylan had circled back to that.
“So yeah, I thought that it might finish it. Didn’t think he would be so sanctimonious about it though.” And at that the lift door slid shut.
Raylan had made sure to put so much emphasis on the pronoun that Tim knew he had not misheard.
Back in his apartment after he and Mark had drunk too much beer in three different bars – see, still not drinking alone -he lay on his bed too tired to get undressed After his trip to Tulsa he had felt if not happier, then less edgy because he had made up his mind to give up mooning over Raylan faced with the evidence of a no longer ex-wife and Raylan’s almost laughingly clichéd entanglement with two very female blondes and one of them pregnant. But now? After Raylan had told him he had had a relationship with another man, now he was back on the start line. It was still one huge mother fucker of an obstacle course but at least if he ever got through it the man on the finish line wouldn’t kick him the teeth for presuming they could have a relationship, even if he would never want one with Tim.
He groaned and pulled the pillow on top of his face.