As Raylan turned down the street he noticed a rental car parked along the street in front of the house Detective Longworth was killed in. He pulled up behind the rental, turned off the engine and sat still for a moment. There were no other cars parked along the street. It was highly unlikely this car was parked here by accident. He got out and walked up to looking in the car. An oversized leather computer case sat in the front seat along with an empty Nikon camera bag. He pulled out his cell phone and called Manus.
"You have anyone at the Longworth crime scene taking pictures?" he asked as soon as she answered.
"No. Why do you ask?" She said
"I'll let ya know." He replied. He could almost here her protesting "wait" as he disconnected. He put his phone away and walked casually up front walk taking in the look of the house. How the hell did a cop afford this place? It had to be seven or eight hundred grand. He needed to look into that. As he approached the front door he noticed that is slightly open. He placed his on the butt of his gun but left it holstered at his hip. With his left hand he gently pushed the door open. Thankfully, there was no telltale squeak. The hinges allowed the door to swing silently open. He eased his way in towards the kitchen stopping to listen and look as he moved. Someone was taking pictures. He peered around the corner and paused. He could not believe his eyes. He moved at a slow walk into the kitchen and was just a few feet from the man when he spoke. "Art?"
Art Mullins simultaneously spun around and moved backwards away from the voice. His right hand dropped his hip for a nonexistent gun while his left hand held onto a Nikon digital SLR camera. All of this had a negative affect on his center go gravity. As art fell ass first to the kitchen floor part of him noticed the lanky cowboy hat wearing man only feet away. The realization hit him at the same time as the floor. He splayed out on the kitchen floor looking up at a very confused looking Raylan. He spoke as he sat himself up."Raylan? You 'bout scared the shit outta me! What the hell are you doin' here?"
The cowboy sauntered closer and peered down at the awkwardly sitting man on the floor. "I was about to ask you the same question." Raylan responded.
—
Daniel had been searching every site he could find for information about the sword in front of him. It looked old. Very old. But, very well taken care of. He thought this one looked like some sort of Rapier. Maybe like one that the three musketeers would have used. Swords were far from his specialty but geeks were not. If you had a subject he knew geeks that would geek out over it. His first thought was a friend from the Model Rocket Society, Simon Paxley. Simon was finishing a grueling double Graduate degree track in Anthropology and Archeology at the University of Miami. But when asked he had laughed and said that he only knew about fantasy swords. "Listen if you want to know the name of the sword Gandolf used to kill the Great Goblin, I'm your guy. Glamdring by the way. But, there are a lot of swords that kinda look like something Porthos might have used."
Daniels heart sunk. "OK, well thanks anyway."
"But… there is this one guy. He would definitely know." Simon teased
Daniels heart lept again. "What guy?"
"There is this guest lecturer arriving today. The Anthropology department is really excited about him. He can speak flawless Chiwere, Lakota and Dakota Osage, Crow, Cherokee, Cayuga, and Onondaga! Some of those languages, like Cayuga and Onondaga are severely endangered. They might not exist in another 20 years." Simon sounded extremely excited now. "I've even heard he speaks like ten other modern languages too."
Daniel started to have doubts. "How is a linguist going to help me identify this sword?" he asked skeptically.
When Simon answered, Daniel grinned. "That's just it, he's not a linguist. He's an antiques dealer. He deals in everything from art to edged weapons."
—
Colleen sat in her office reading over the finger print analysis report from the strange sword found with the decapitated body. She glanced up at the nearly silent knock on her open door. Daniel stood in her doorway looking sheepish and mildly apprehensive. "Did you find anything out about the sword?" she inquired.
"Not yet. I'ts really hard getting good information when your search criteria is basically 'old sword' or some variation like it." He admitted.
Colleen sighed. "OK. Well, keep looking. So far its our only lead." She indicated the report in front of her. "The victims prints were all over that sword but, as far as we can tell, he has never been fingerprinted before. Even the FBI's search didn't find a match."
"In that case. I might have located a resource that can help us identify the sword. He might even be able to tell us how old it is and where it came from." He said.
"I'd settle for who it belonged too." She quipped, "Did you ask him to come in and take a look?"
"Not exactly. I kinda need to take the sword to him." Daniel inwardly winced as Colleen cocked her head in that 'oh, really' sort of way.
"And where are we taking this sword?" she asked as she stood and started collecting her things.
Daniel was now completely flustered. "Uh… we? Your going… too?"
Colleen gave him a matter of fact look as she rounded her desk heading towards his position at the door. "Yes Daniel. Where are we going?"
Colleen and Daniel began making their way towards Daniels desk to retrieve the sword when someone called for her across the bullpen. Bureau Chief Starke was on the line. "Daniel, give me a few minutes. Lets meet at my car in ten minutes." He assured her that he would get the sword packed up and ready to go in that time. As she strode back to her office she inwardly grimaced. She really should have made this call earlier. She knew her old friend had fallen pretty hard for Jim in their relatively short time working together. Jim was often aloof and abrasive to people but also very endearing and oddly very charming. Jennifer had told her that though there was an obvious attraction between them, Jim was always Callie's in his heart. During a long farewell dinner she and Jennifer had shared a couple bottles of wine and several stories about failed relationships. "You'll find the right man soon." She had told her. Jennifer smiled and replied with a non-committal nod "Yeah, well hopefully he'll be single." She had met an assistant D.A. Since returning to Tallahassee. Colleen hoped that was going well.
She took the call in her office with the door closed. "Hi Jennifer. I'm sorry I should have called you already. I.."
"Have had your hands full?" she answered for Colleen. "I understand. The reason for my call is…. Well… I want to come help."
Colleen was at a loss for what to say and left the phone call silent for too long. In a rush Jennifer began speaking. "Listen, I know in you position I would be lecturing me about being too close emotionally and…"
Colleen broke in. "Yes. Yes, I want your help. We are all too close but that means we care about getting this right. When will you be here?"
The relief was evident in her friends voice. "I'm on the way now. I'll be there in about two hours. Where do you need me?"
"One of the chief suspects is Callie's ex-husband Ray Cargill. He was in the WITSEC program run by the Marshal's." Colleen said. "They are working a few angles and say they are going to keep us up to speed with their investigation." She emphasized the word 'their'. "I was planning on running roughshod over them but there is so much to coordinate. I think someone with a title will get their attention more than sending a regular officer. Can you handle them?"
"Absolutely." Was the immediate reply. "Let me pull over so I can get the details."
Colleen gave her a quick rundown of the situation and the contact number for the Miami Marshals office as well as the mobile numbers for Tony and the Cowboy. "His name is Raylan Givins" She told her.
"Wait, THE Marshal Givins?" Jennifer replied.
Colleen sounded surprised. "I guess so, you know him?"
"Know of him. You might have been up in Jackson at the time though it was in all the papers. Really caused an uproar down south." Jennifer told her. "In full view of three witnesses and at gun point, he told Bucks to leave Miami in 24 hours or he would shoot him on sight. 24 hours later Givins finds Bucks at the Shore Club eating lunch by the pool. He walks up, sits down, and two minutes later kills Bucks with three shots to the chest. While they both were still sitting."
Colleen did remember the incident now that she heard the story. "I remember that. Wasn't he exonerated?"
"Yeah, witnesses said that Bucks pulled first. It was even caught on the security camera. It was eventually ruled a justified shooting. But, only after a lengthy legal battle. Gio Reyes hired a group of lawyers that argued Bucks was defending himself from a death threat from the Marshal. Giving was eventually transferred out of Miami for several years. I didn't know he was back."
"It sounds like he was a loose cannon. Do you want me to assign someone else?" Colleen asked.
"Are you kidding? No. Before all of that he had a reputation for being a relentless bloodhound. If he is half of what he was then, he won't stop until he finds whoever is responsible." Jennifer stated flatly.
"Good. I just hope he doesn't shoot them. I want to see them in the electric chair." Colleen replied coldly. She hung up and went to meet Daniel at her car.
—
"Retirement sucks." Art told Raylan "So I put out a few feelers and ended up working as an investigator for insurance claims."
Rylan listened as he turned the greater part of his attention to inspecting the crime scene in front of him.
"At first it was part time. But, it turns out that I hate golf and don't enjoy house repair. So, its more or less a full time thing now." Art explained.
"You work all over the country?" Raylan asked.
"Coast to Coast. I only get the high dollar cases so the per diem is pretty good. Hell, I'm staying at a hotel that overlooks the beach not some cheap shit hole." Art chuckled as he went on. "At first I stayed cheap as I could. After a while I started going to better hotels. They keep paying the bills and never seem to complain so…"
"How much?" Giving asked.
"The hotel? Oh about $200 a night." Art replied. Rylan turned and gave his old boss an odd look.
"The insurance claim. How much?" Raylan asked.
Art narrowed his eyes and took in his old friend. "Why are you here? This guy was an FDLE detective. Far as I can tell he had nothing to do with the Marshals."
Raylan gave Art a serious and stoic stare just to see that the old mule wasn't going to budge. "Alright. He was marrying a woman who's ex is in WitSec." Rylan replied.
"Callie Cargill." Art confirmed. "I thought her husbands release was a little odd. The official reason was overcrowding and his good behavior." Art pondered for a moment before the pieces fell into place. "He up and ran didn't he?"
"Yep, about two weeks ago we figure. How much?" Raylan said
Art paused and examined Raylan close. "You know, there is this creek I pass on my way to the cabin. There is this perfect bend in the creek. It could make the cover of Field and Stream once a year. You know, I chuckle to myself every time we drive by and see people fly fishing' in that thing."
Rylan sighed and leaned against the counter. "Is there a point here, Art?"
"I've known that creek for 40 years. Seen plenty of people fly fishing' in it. Never seen one of them catch anything. You know why?" Art continued.
"I imagine your about to tell me." Raylan responded half amused.
"There's this old farm about 3 miles upstream. They built a dam back in the 40's. The idea was that they could use the water for irrigating their fields. See, that dam has a design flaw. Instead of opening the gates and letting all the water flow through, it routed to 4 big 'ol pipes. Those pipes used to get clogged so they went and covered them with grates. Now the fish can't get through those grates." Art concluded with a smile.
"What the hell has that got to do with anything?" Raylan questioned.
"I like fish Raylan. I give you what's in here." Art indicated the thick blue folder in his had, "Then you'll just through up a grate and lock me out."
Raylan smiled. "What do you want Art?"
"Oh, you know. Just to tag along with ya for a bit. I won't get in the way and we can both benefit from the bounty." Art replied.
"You sure are getting' shrewd in your old age. What do ya say I just arrest you for trespassing and take a look at that folder when I book it into evidence?" Raylan replied wryly.
Art frowned. "Raylan, don't be an asshole."
—
Colleen and Daniel had spent the past hour getting to and fining the head of the Anthropology department at the University of Miami. Dr. Alister was a short rotund man with a thick beard. How anyone could wear a beard in Florida was beyond Colleen. But the man was very helpful. He told them that Mr. MacLeod's flight had just arrived and he was probably just checking into his hotel. They gave him a quick sanitized version of the story and he offered to call and setup a meeting with MacLeod for them. "Yes, Ill meet with them." McLeod had said when Alister called to inquire.
"He says that he is not too tired from his flight and would be willing to meet with you at the hotel." Alister told them.
As they made their way to the hotel bar Colleen checked in with Jennifer. "Did you make it in?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm at the Marshals office and they are trying to locate Givins for me. He has a bit of a reputation for going off the grid at times." She explained.
Colleen frowned. "I don't like that. I was assured full cooperation. Don't be afraid to push them."
"Oh, I won't. Im being nice and staying in the lobby at the moment. That's going to change soon." Jennifer said with determination.
Colleen put her cell phone away as they came into he bar. "Ok Daniel, do you know what he looks like?" She asked.
"Uh, I think that's him." Daniel replied, indicating a tall, gorgeous, and fit 40'ish man with his hand in the air across the room.
"Really? Not what I was expecting." She replied.
Daniel looked confused. "What were you expecting?"
She wasn't entirely sure. But not this. Definitely not this.
"You must be Director Manus and Mr. Green." The man said affably.
Colleen smiled coyly despite herself as Daniel rushed to acknowledge. "Yes. Mr MacLeod?"
"Duncan" he said. "I took the liberty of reserving a conference room for us. The lights in the bar are too dim for a proper inspection." He explained. They made their way to the conference room where a waiter stood at the ready. "I'm having a glass of wine, can I offer either of you something to drink?"
"Water with lemon." Colleen replied and nodded her thanks to the waiter. Daniel declined and placed a long cardboard box on the table.
Without preamble he removed a the sword still sandwiched between long steps of sterile plastic.
"May I take it out of the wrappings?" Duncan asked. Daniel looked at Colleen for permission. She nodded her assent and Daniel gently removed the plastic while speaking. "At first I thought it was old. It just had that feeling. Then I scoured the internet for something like it and thats when I got lost. There are so many variations of the Rapier from so many cultures and time spans, I don't know if its fake or real."
Duncan could feel the sword from three feet away. He knew this sword. This exact sword. At least he thought he did. The room remained quiet as he stood looking at it from a distance. Then, slowly, he approached it and took it in both hands. He immediately felt the power it held within. When a sword was used to take a head, the quickening changed it. The more it was used the more it changed. His katana should have been marred with rust pits and general degradation from its many years of intense combat. Yet it was finely honed and as elegant as it had been when he first received it several centuries before. The quickening had made it and extension of him. It's strength and resiliency were mirrors of his own. This weapon was similar. It would take many centuries for that strength to fade from it. Assuming of course that it wasn't again used to take a head. Who's sword was it?
"Have you had anyone appraise it yet?" Asked Duncan as he seemed to study the edge.
"No. We sort of lucked into finding you.' Daniel replied. "Can you tell if it is an antique or if it is a recent reproduction?"
"If it is a reproduction or real, can you tell us where a person might get a sword like this? Colleen added.
Duncan took a deep breathe. What should he reveal? Surely they would get other opinions and it wouldn't do to get caught in a lie. On the other hand, he could hardly be held accountable for calling a sword this beautifully preserved anything but a well executed fake. In the end he opted for the truth… of a sort. "If this is what I think it is…." Duncan paused and made a show or inspecting the pommel. His eyes went wide and then he ran his finger down the length of the hilt. His face took on a puzzled look.
Daniel broke the silence. "It kind of looks like a sword the Three Musketeers would have used." He turned sheepish as Colleen frowned at him and Duncan smiled and amused smile.
"Actually, you have the time period correct. Well, mostly. Though Athos would only have been a boy when this sword was forged." McLeod seemed to study the hilt more closely. "But this is not a Rapier like they would have used. Also, it isn't French. This is an English broadsword. A 23 inch basket hilted one." Duncan held the sword carefully with his left hand. His four fingers and thumb holding the middle of the blade near the hilt with the tip pointed down to the floor. With his right hand he began describing the elements of the sword. He started at the bulbous end of the hilt. "This rounded bit at the end is called the pommel. Its size and density are designed to help balance the sword in the soldiers hand." He moved to the curved guard attache to it. "The knuckle guard is attached to the pommel with a threaded screw. A very technologically advanced element at the time." He ran his finger up along the curved guard to the large shell like covering. "This helped protect a hand that was not wearing a gauntlet." He moved his finger along the slightly upturned extrusion away from the knuckle guard. "This is a curved quillion. This helped insure that a blade that fell on the opposite side of the blade from the knuckle guard wouldn't find its way to the wrist."
Duncan then rotated the sword horizontally. "The blade begins wide at the hilt. This gives it strength and allows the sword to be a very effective at stabbing the blade though an enemy. With thinner bladed swords it was not uncommon to bend or break a blade. The sword was then worthless."
"Why did you say 'the soldier'? How do you know that this was made for a soldier?" Colleen asked.
Duncan smiled. "This sword dates to somewhere around 1610 to 1630. Judging by the styling alone I would put it firmly in the 1620's. At that time the owner of a sword like this was either a nobleman with lots of money or a soldier. From the lack of filigree and the obvious alterations to the grip dressings, I would rule out a nobleman. This sword was used used not simply worn. Probably for a single generation. Then it was heirloomed and very well preserved." He points at several gouges in the blade as emphasis to his statement. "Duals were actually fairly rare and when they happened they were not long drawn out affairs. If a single person fought in enough duals to cause all of this, we would most likely know his name. Thats why this is a soldiers sword."
"Could it have been kept by the same family for that long?" Daniel asked.
Duncan looked to consider this for a moment. "It would be nearly unheard of. Then again, a sword of this age in this condition is also unheard of."
Colleen was skeptical. "Couldn't it be a fake?"
"I doubt it." Duncan said with confidence. "Do you see these markings on the blade by the hilt?" He showed her with an index finger. This mark is from an English sword masters apprentice. Thomas Waterson. He isn't famous. He achieved master status at 56 years old. He died 4 years later. I know of him because I have done extensive research for a partial sword I sold at auction 5 or 6 years ago. I found that while Waterson created the blade he lacked the artistry to craft the basket hilt. He always worked with another relatively unknown sword maker. Harold Pike. Pike made the baskets and screws and Waterson made the blade." Duncan turned the sword so that they could see the inside of the basket. There the stamped impression of a combined 'HP' was barely visible. "I think there might only be 20 people in the world that know what I just told you."
"But, one of them could have faked it." Colleen stated.
Daniel seemed to be nearly daydreaming as he wondered aloud. "Yeah, but why would you leave it in the hand of a a guy thats had his head chopped off?"
Duncan's face went hard. "What do you mean? Was this used to kill a man?"
Colleen gave Daniel an annoyed look. "We know this sword was not used in the murder." She turned to look at Duncan. "Though, something certainly did cut the victim and sever his head. Could a sword like this one be used to do those things in a very precise manner?" she asked.
"A beheading? It is a very dense and strong sword. Though, I doubt you could find a person these days skilled and strong enough to do it. This kind of sword would not be ideal for that task anyway. There were specialty swords used by experienced headsmen, but they were bulky and unadorned. Nothing like this." Duncan said.
Colleens phone rang and she politely excused herself to the far corner to answer.
"So you found this near a man with his head removed?" Duncan asked as inconspicuously as he could muster. He wouldn't have been so direct if the woman was still listening. However, he could tell that this kid would want to share the information. Someone was being clumsy. Immortals could not afford for serious investigations to be carried out on headless corpses. Especially corpses as anomalous and these would be. It was becoming far harder to assume new identities and loose oneself in the crowd of humanity. His kind did not need the extra worry of competently conducted investigation on top of it all. He hoped it was an isolated accident. The circumstances not allowing the immortal to clean up after themselves.
Daniel nodded and then lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Yes. The weird thing is that there was almost no blood. Not even from the other wounds. The cut on the neck was so precise it went mostly through the separations of the vertebrae. Were the discs are."
Duncan lowered his voice as well. "That kind of precision was achieved by only a very few headsmen throughout antiquity. That's why most preferred an axe or the Guillotine. Most of the time it would take multiple swings of the axe before the job was done."
Again Daniel nodded. "I found several websites that said exactly that." Daniel should know better than to divulge this information but this man was clearly not going to be a suspect. Who knew when some information might yeild a clue to help them find Jim's killer. He decided to take a chance and relate some of the detail. "There were some weird things that surround this murder. The wound to the neck was cauterized on both sides almost like a laser. But the vertebrae showed signs of a hard, sharp metal objet impacting them while moving both forward through them and horizontally in a near perfectly level plane." Daniel paused for a second to shudder. "Its just so weird. Not to mention that we think it was staged so someone could steal a body from our forensics lab."
Duncan's pulse quickened. This was bad, very bad. A stolen corpse or an immortal hoping to surprise a disadvantaged foe? Duncan had woken in the morgue before. It was extremely disorienting. A weaker opponent might gain an extreme advantage at a time like that. That might explain the necessity of leaving the body and the sword to be discovered. Duncan relaxed a bit. He was sure thats what it was. Then the unthinkable happened.
Colleen's voice rang through the relative silence. "What do you mean another one?" she paused and glanced across the room noticing the other two staring back at her. She moved out of the room to finish the call.
—
"You would've chewed my ass if I did this in Kentucky" Raylan mused as they walked back to their cars.
"You did do it in Kentucky. Besides, it's not like I'm a civilian or a rookie. Hell, I might even dazzle you with a few insights only a grizzled old codger like me could offer." Art retorted.
Raylan cocked his head and gazed at Art skeptically. "Alright, but nothing that might affect the investigation goes into your reports back to the insurance company." Art smiled and headed for his car. "One more thing." Raylan called. "If Dan says no, then its a no. I ain't pissin' him off any more than I have to."
"Why didn't I get that consideration?" Art mumbled.
Raylan stopped and turned to look at his friend. "What was that?"
"Nothin' worth repeating." Art said through a wan smile.
"Uh huh." Raylan replied.
They drove back to Raylans office at the Marshals building and went straight in to see Chief Deputy Marshal Dan Grant. Dan ran the Miami field office. Art explained what he was doing in Florida and that he wanted to shadow Givens. Dan happily agreed. "Are you kidding me? It's been almost three months since he's shot somebody. You tagging along might encourage him to extend the streak a little."
"I appreciate the vote of confidence but I was never able to inspire him to keep it in his holster." Art said sarcastically. "The best I can offer is an eye witness and intimate knowledge of the after action reports and procedures."
Dan laughed. "Yeah, thankfully his time in Kentucky seems to have mellowed him a bit. We've only had a handful of incidents since his return. Much to the disappointment of the local bullet manufacturers."
"You two realize I'm standing right here." Raylan said.
Both men turned their 'Yeah, and who gives a shit?' looks his way.
"Im gonna go get call Tony while you two bitch about me some more." Raylan said as he turned to walk towards his desk.
"Raylan, hold on a second." Dan said. Raylan stopped and looked back quizzically.
Dan came around his desk and indicated a room across the hall. "Conference room B." He said as he walked purposefully towards the room. Art and Raylan followed him inside. The sole occupant was a stunning brunette in a surprisingly suggestive blue dress. Yet her demeanor didn't say flirtatious. It was all business. Raylan initially though she was a lawyer until he notices the gold badge hanging from a beaded chain around her neck. When she looked up at them as they entered Raylan immediately captivated by her eyes. She stood as Dan introduced her.
"Raylan this is Bureau Chief Jennifer Starke with the Florida Department of Law Enforcement. She will be your.." He paused and looked Art briefly. "Your official liaison with the FDLE and will be accompanying you during your involvement with the case. As decreed from those well above my pay grade, your other case load has been reassigned. This is your only case and therefore your only priority." Dan turned and held up a hand to squelch the protests already forming on Raylans lips. "You can catch the others up on the status of your other cases and then catch Miss Starke up on your findings thus far in this case." He said.
Raylan stood there looking at him for several seconds. "You have got to be shitting me." He said flatly.
Dan frowned and pushed Raylan out the door. "Excuse us for just a minute." He said over his shoulder. As the door shut behind them Art looked across the table and smiled.
Jennifer smiled back and motioned for him to sit. "So, if I'm the official partner, who are you and why does your lanyard say, 'visitor'?".
Art looked down at the lanyard hanging around his neck and then smiled again. "Well, it's kinda unorthodox."
Meanwhile Dan ushered Raylan a little further down the hall outside the conference room. "You caught the part where I said people above my pay grade, right?" he said rhetorically. "Well, that means well above. That woman is very well connected and she isn't holding anything back. I wasn't asked my opinion on this. I was told in no uncertain terms that this is what was going to happen. Period. Full Stop."
"This is bullshit!" Raylan said with incredulity
"Yeah. I know. But it is what it is and you don't exactly have a lot of support up the chain to appeal it." Dan said matter of factly.
"What the hell does that mean?" Raylan replied
"It means keep your fucking gun in its holster. The FDLE called with concerns over your handling of Tommy Bucks. Then some jackass decided to provide them with your full jacket. It was all I could do to keep you on the case. That and the fact that she insisted you lead the thing from our side. With her in tow to ensure the FDLE are getting the fullest support we can offer." Dan related. "And absolutely no dumping her at the fucking ice cream stand or whatever. She and Mullen are to be with you the entire time." Dan held up a hand again. "No. I don't want to hear it. Thats it. The two of them. With. You. The. Entire. Time." He emphasize each word individually. "I mean it Raylan. The entire time."
"Why the hell do they give us guns?" Rylan asked loudly.
"Because they look scary and deter people from doing stupid shit." Dan replied.
"Well that ain't been my experience." Raylan retorted.
"Well, maybe you should give them a few minutes to consider things before you shoot them." Dan said smiling.
Raylan stood there slack jawed. Dan nodded once and turned back towards his office. As he walked he called back. "The Entire time!"
Raylan was stunned and not a little pissed off. He made his way to the coffee station and began making a cup. He shook his head. Who the hell was this Longworth guy? He was well connected within the FDLE. He had money. But, why was it so damn important to take the body. He did not relish passing his case notes along to the other Marshals. He was already 'that guy' in the office and this was not going to endear him to anyone. With a sigh of resignation he grabbed another two cups. He knew how Art liked his. Two cream and four sugars. What about the Bureau Chief? Tea maybe? He settled for black and a handful of creamers and sugar. He barely squeezed it all together in a precariously balanced three cup stack and made his way back to the conference room. When he entered Art sat next to the Bureau Chief with his blue folder opened in front of him. She was reading something and Art was point to something on the paper. They both stopped and looked up at him.
"Well I see you two are aquatinted." He said as he began setting the coffee down on the table. "You've been in here for what five minutes and already your sharing your folder with her?" Raylan asked.
Art smiled and nodded. "She's prettier and friendlier than you."
Raylan frowned at Art. "You remember those harassment seminars we had to go through?"
Art leaned back in his chair. "It ain't harassment if its true Raylan." For her part Jennifer Starke grinned.
"20 million dollars is one hell of an insurance policy. I can understand why they sent you to look into it." She said while still reading the paper.
Raylan looked hurt as he looked from Jennifer to Art. "You told her before me?"
"Friendlier and better looking." Art said in reply.