Disclaimer - Lex and Melanie belong to me, the others do not. A few lines of dialogue were repurposed from the show.
Chapter One
Alexander 'Lex' Braysdale, was the supervising field agent of the Detroit Office Of Criminal Investigations. An Englishman in his late-forties, Lex had thinning dark brown hair that clung close to his square face, and squinty gray eyes that displayed his arrogance. His voice was rough and unmemorable, but nonetheless Lex was notorious for being an abashed womanizer. Melanie Davenport had had few direct encounters with Lex, for which she was thankful for. Although her occupation left her feeling stir-crazy most days, Melanie had settled into her role as a desk jockey. When Melanie received a summon from Lex, she grew paranoid that perhaps one of her peers had overheard her restless muttering one time too many.
Melanie paused outside Lex's door, prepping her facial features. She couldn't smile nor scowl, since Lex could interpret either as an opening for flirtation. Expecting the worst, Melanie fixated a glimmering grimace onto her face, and entered his office.
Lex was seated at his desk, eying her as if she were a door-to-door salesman. "Miss Davenport. I've a phone call for you." he announced shortly. Confusion etched itself across Melanie's brow, before she could think to mask it. "He's a sheriff from your hometown, called himself Doyle Bennett."
"Doyle Bennett?" Melanie repeated in disbelief.
"Yes Miss Davenport. I was under the impression that he and you were acquainted...though I am baffled as to why this bugger would be calling during business hours, let alone continuously harassing my secretary, demanding I speak to him." Lex continued, his breath coming out in annoyed bursts.
"Sir I can assure you I have no idea what this is 'bout." Melanie promised.
"Then answer the bloody call." Lex said through clenched teeth.
Melanie glanced at the phone apprehensively but only for a moment. Taking a deep breath, she cradled the headset, but before she could raise it to her ear, Lex had activated the speaker-phone feature. Trying to keep an even expression as Lex glowered at her expectantly, Melanie greeted flatly. "Melanie Davenport."
The smile in Doyle's voice could be heard over the airwaves. "Melanie. Been twenty odd years hasn't it." he replied.
"Is Dickie dead?" Melanie guessed, struggling to understand why Doyle would call out of the blue.
"No, no. This ain't 'bout Dickie. This is 'bout Deputy U.S. Marshal Raylan Givens. Your profession deals in pharmaceuticals does it not? It seems Raylan has a weakness of the Oxycotton variety. As you might imagine, I'm a bit out of my league here. Would you be willin' to book a flight to Harlan, help me sort this out?" Doyle responded.
"...Sheriff..." Melanie began dubiously. "Before I give my answer, may I ask how it is you tracked me down?"
"Ava. Way I heard it you two were pen pals for a spell after you moved, then she married Bowman and he didn't want her contacting you anymore." Doyle replied. "Now, do you intend to leave today?"
"...I'd have to consult my supervisor first." Melanie said, trying to assess Lex, but his demeanor hadn't changed since he hit the speaker-phone button.
"If that's all you're concerned 'bout, then I guess I oughta wish you safe travels. Mr. Braysdale already gave me his blessing." Doyle chortled. Melanie's mouth gaped ajar, her incertitude eyes glazing over as she gawked at Lex. The tiniest of smirks had surfaced on his thin lips. "See you soon Mel!" Doyle declared, before hanging up.
"...Sir...?" Melanie stammered dumbfounded.
"Don't fret Miss Davenport, this isn't punishment, there's business to be done. We have reason to believe Robert Quarles may be relocated to Kentucky soon. You're a perfect plant, Miss Davenport...Assuming of course you can handle this business with the Marshal, discretely."
"...If you wanna post me in Kentucky that's fine, but Raylan...I have a history with Raylan Givens sir."
"When you were a teenager."
"..Even so, I'm not comfortable with..." Melanie began.
"I care not for your comforts Miss Davenport." Lex interrupted. "There is a red-eye leaving at 10 o' clock. I suggest you head home and start packing." he responded.
Butterflies tumbled in Melanie's stomach, as the elevators door slid open. Before her stood a bald man, late fifties to early sixties, with plain features, speaking to a mid-thirties stallion with a brown-and-silver mane, chiseled cheekbones and a patch of facial hair around his lithe mouth. "You told me he was playin' it straight." Art, the elder of the two, said.
"Wouldn't be the first time Boyd said one thin' and did 'nother…" Raylan replied.
"Boyd Crowder?" Melanie guessed, as she stepped foot out of the elevator. Their attention was immediately drawn onto her.
The surprise imbedded on Raylan's face, was reflected in his tone. "Melanie?"
"Oh this brings me to the final thin' I wanted to talk about," Art began, the up-tilt to his voice betraying his invisible smile. Raylan flicked his gaze impatiently onto his superior. "Due to the pharmaceutical nature of this investigation, OCI sent over one of theirs to oversee this case - Melanie Davenport. Art Muller, pleasure to meet you Ma'am." Art extended a hand which Melanie shook without hesitation. "I believe you and Raylan already know each other?" he added with a casual glance at the man in question.
His shock fading, Raylan rolled his shoulders. "Once upon a time…." He confirmed, putting his hands on his hips. "How long's it been Mel? Twenty-years give or take?"
"Sounds 'bout right….Christ, suddenly I feel 'ld." Melanie agreed, with an illuminated laugh.
"Eh you don't look it." Raylan assured her.
"No?" Melanie reflected, shining a smile at Raylan.
"Twenty-years is a long time, seems like you two have a lot of catchin' up to do." Art said, side-stepping into the elevator. "Raylan, if you wouldn't mind escortin' Melanie 'round town…"
"I'll take care of 'er." Raylan readily replied with a nod and a hinged smile.
"What makes you think I need takin' care of?" Melanie responded, crossing her arms with a demure smile. Raylan cocked his head.
"Ms. Davenport?" Art began, drawing their attention. "You specifically asked Raylan to accompany you in this investigation..."
"Oh she did?" Raylan reflected, turning his bemused gaze back onto the red-faced female beside him.
"I assume there was an actual reason for your request, beyond infatuation." Art finished.
"Sir, I know my being here is a nuisance, and I'd hate to cause any interruption to the usual flow of your district. I requested Raylan because I knew he'd be least bothered by my presence." Melanie responded earnestly.
"Why would you presume that?" Raylan questioned.
Melanie shifted her focus from Art to him. "Because you still like me." she stated with a flip of her hair.
"I do huh?"
"Mm-hmm."
Clearing his throat as the elevator door began to close, Art called out. "You lovebirds behave yourselves!"
For a moment Raylan and Melanie merely stared at the elevator."I like your boss." She informed, breaking the silence.
"Yeah Art's a hoot…" Raylan replied, his dry sarcasm evident as his gaze slowly revolved away from the elevator door. "Would you care for some coffee? Tastes like shit, but you should meet Rachel and Tim before we head out." He said, leading the way back into the bullpen. "..'sides, I gotta grab my hat.."
"I heard 'bout that – how you're the cowboy lawman of Harlan county.." Melanie mused, following in his footsteps. "You're practically a legend.."
"Tryin' to make my head swell?" Raylan asked with a backward glance.
"No, wouldn't dream of it…." Melanie answered. "Can't risk muddlin' that handsome face…"
"Talkin' like that won't help."
"You're right, I take it back."
Raylan's smirk matched Melanie's as he lifted his hat from the rack beside his desk. "Rachel Brooks, this here is Criminal Investigator Melanie Davenport." He introduced, gesturing with his hat.
"Nice to meet you." Rachel said, smiling warmly as she shook Melanie's hand.
"Likewise." Melanie replied.
"Ma'am," Tim bowed his head a bit as he offered his hand. "I'm Tim Gutherson." He said with a smile that didn't quite reach his blue eyes. Melanie got the impression he had seen plenty of hardship.
"You look like an honest man Tim, how shitty is this coffee of yours?" Melanie asked with a teasing smile.
"Tastes like ashwood chippings pounded into a pot of clay, it's chalky but bold…" Tim answered. "Wanna cup?"
"Raincheck." Melanie replied, affably.
"Fair warning," Rachel began. "Once Raylan leaves this office, he usually doesn't come back until the case is closed." Melanie looked at Raylan, who gave an affirm nod. "You really want some coffee, it'd be best to get it now." Rachel suggested.
"'nother time then….strange enough bein' back in Harlan county, don't think I need an upset stomach." Melanie responded.
"You nervous bein' back?" Raylan asked.
Melanie suppressed a sigh. "Gonna have to watch my words 'round 'im aren't I?" she asked with a sideways glance at Rachel.
"Probably not a bad idea…" Rachel said.
Melanie's arm beckoned the car door to swing shut as she shifted in the passenger seat of Raylan's car. "So. Off to question Boyd. I sure have impeccable timin'." she mused to herself. She glanced over at Raylan as he revved the engine. "What the hell became of 'im Raylan? I read his file, I could scarcely believe it was the same Boyd Crowder of our youth."
A smirk quivered on Raylan's lips, but he didn't allow it to show. "What is it?" he asked. Melanie's eyes narrowed as Raylan met her gaze. "Whatever it is that's eatin' away at you, has nothin' to do with Boyd."
Melanie was silent a moment, then she let out a dark chuckle. "I ain't been back in Harlan a full day, and you already have me figured. Am I that much of an open book?" she wondered.
"Melanie..." Raylan prompted, knowing she was stalling.
Admitting defeat, Melanie slunk in her seat. "This business with the hijacked bus full of Oxy...it's not the only reason I've been summoned here. But currently it's the prominent one, and to that end...Doyle Bennett called up my office, rambunctiously I may add, talkin' some nonsense 'bout you being the one responsible for the theft."
"Me?" Raylan echoed.
"Yeah you. Doyle claims he has an eye witness that saw a man, in a wide-brimmed hat, wavin' 'round a gun, who declared himself to be Raylan Givens, rob two unsavory individuals of their newly acquired pill supply."
"Did you speak to this witness of his?"
"Doyle insisted I grab you first."
"Why didn't you pull rank?" Raylan asked.
"Because I know his theory is bullshit, and if I were you, I'd like to know if someone was trying to tarnish my name.." Melanie answered.
"I appreciate that Mel." Raylan told her, causing a smile to crease Melanie's lips. "Now maybe you wouldn't mind tellin' me, what else it is that brought you to back to Kentucky?" Raylan pressed.
"As you may or may not know, Theo Tonin is a major crime figure in Detroit. My office has shed a lot of blood, sweat and tears buildin' a case against him. His golden boy Robert Quarles, may be headed to Harlan in the distant future. Which basically means, I am on a prolonged stakeout that may or may not result in anythin'." Melanie explained, heaving a sigh.
"Problems with the boss?" Raylan guessed with a wince.
"Well I did refuse to fuck him at the Christmas bash. That aside, Lex probably figures my upbringin' here would make it easier for me to blend in." Melanie responded coyily.
Firming his grip on the steering wheel, Raylan cleared his throat, and decided to address the elephant in the room. "Speakin' of, your upbringin'...I never did get to say I was sorry. We'd all heard 'bout what happened to your folks on your drive out of the county..."
"You mean how the car magically malfunctioned and killed 'em both? Yeah. I'm not surprised." Melanie said, staring straight ahead with a faraway gleam to her eye. "Justice never was done, though I hear Bo Crowder did get booked eventually."
"He did." Raylan confirmed.
"Well that's somethin'..." Melanie murmured, though it brought her heart little relief.
"He's dead now Mel. Died a month ago actually." Raylan told her, which swung Melanie's full attention onto him. "Boyd was set on killin' 'im, but in a matter of circumstance someone else beat 'im to it. Thought you oughta know."
Melanie was more than a little stunned. "...I always got the impression, Boyd and his Pa weren't exactly close but...what drove him to try takin' Bo's life?" she questioned.
"Bo killed his flock. Boyd had a vigorous stint with religion. I'm not convinced it was genuine, but I think Boyd bought into his own bullshit pretty dearly..." Raylan responded.
"...What about Ava and Bowman?" Melanie asked softly.
"Ava shot Bowman. Ruled as self-defense."
"And Boyd didn't want revenge?"
"He tried gettin' it, and for his trouble, he got a bullet in the chest curtsey of yours truly. Him survivin' was the start of his religious outburst." Raylan explained.
"Guess that settles it then. You are a catalyst for chaos Raylan Givens." Melanie declared.
Raylan momentarily smiled in an 'all-shucks' matter. "Why don't you give Doyle a call, tell 'im I'd like to meet now, and that he sure as shit, better bring this eye witness along."
Doyle stood a few yards from his patrol car, his thumbs nicked in the loopholes of his belt. "Hello again Mel. That badge of yours is still blindin' me." he greeted.
"That's alright Doyle, my eyes are up here anyhow." Melanie retorted, strolling closely beside Raylan. The two had previously decided, they would let Doyle talk and see what came of it.
"Doyle." Raylan greeted flatly.
"Raylan. You and I go back a long ways, we grew up here together, your family and mine have both had our issues with the law, and despite that criminal element both of us become lawmen. But I got to thinkin' maybe Raylan ain't the man I thought he was...hell I got thinkin' maybe Raylan ain't the man everyone thinks he is." Doyle began, with a shrewd glance at Melanie.
"That so?" Raylan pegged.
Doyle nodded. "Sometimes a man does somethin'. Certain folks might see that somethin' as bein' wrong. Others they might embrace that, hell they might even be in a position to help that man out providin' that favor, gets returned later on..." Doyle paused for dramatic effect. "I know you took those pills Raylan. Melanie's in denial, but I told 'er , she ain't seen you in twenty years, how the fuck would she know what you are and aren't capable of?"
Raylan merely observed Doyle a moment, gave Melanie a sideways glance then jaunted over to the patrol car and opened the backdoor. "Am I the man you saw?" he asked the witness, leaning in slightly so she could get a good look.
The witness was blonde, and plain featured, and seemed amused by the notion. "Lord no." she replied.
"But you said-!" Doyle stammered as Raylan shut the door and faced him. "Hey I don't know you Raylan! You think there ain't never been a dirty marshal before?" he defended, his teal-eyed gaze shifting from Raylan to Melanie and back again.
"What was that shit you were sayin'?" Raylan asked. "'bout 'you think you know a man but don't'?"
"...I was just tryin' to feel you out..." Doyle deflected.
"Seemed like you were settin' him up for extortion..." Melanie spoke up.
It was clear to both Melanie and Raylan that Doyle wished to retort, but was unsure of how to phrase it without burying himself deeper. Raylan reverted his focus onto the witness, as he opened the car door again. "This man you saw, describe 'im to me." he requested.
"Well he was smaller. Kinda scrawny. He had a neck tattoo peekin' out of his shirt...I couldn't really make it out, some kind of letters...I thought it was odd cause I never seen a lawman with a tattoo like that." she mused.
"Anythin' else?" Raylan pressed.
"He mentioned somethin' 'bout poachin' gators. I remember cause it didn't make no sense..." she finished.
Raylan closed the car door for a second and final time. "C'mon Mel, we're headed after Dewey Crowe." he announced, heading for his own vehicle.
"Dewey Crowe?" Melanie repeated, following without hesitation. "I thought all his kin moved down to Florida?"
"Not all." Raylan sighed. "Be seein' you Doyle." he called over his shoulder.
Melanie paused, resting her weight on the roof of Raylan's car as she glanced back at Doyle. "...How's Dickie doin'?" she asked curiously.
"Best you ask 'im that yourself." Doyle replied, brushing her off.
Melanie watched for a moment as Doyle entered his patrol car with a glower, before she climbed into the passenger seat. Buckling her seatbeat, Melanie realized Raylan was gazing at her with bemused eyes. "What?" she blurted.
"How's Dickie?" Raylan repeated.
"Seemed rude not to ask...'specially after Dewey was brought up, I mean he and Dickie were two rag tag ruffians once.."
"That how you remember it? The way I remember it, Dewey was the irksome freshmen who trailed after Dickie because he was datin' you."
Melanie shook her head. "They hung out even after Dickie and I were through." she replied evenly. An expression of acknowledgment flashed across Raylan's face. "So why do you think Dewey tried impersonating you?" she asked.
"Maybe he thought he was bein' clever. Think that's why Dickie kept 'im 'round, Dewey made 'im look smarter." Raylan answered.
"Guess I can't argue that." Melanie murmured, gazing out the window.
Raylan's cellphone rang, and ignoring Melanie's questioning glance, he answered it. "Givens." he greeted. A few seconds passed and Raylan removed the phone from his ear, activating the speaker-phone.
"...did you have an inklin' of the man I might someday become?" asked a gruff voice with a soft output.
"Don't know Boyd, newly forty and still single?" Raylan retorted for Melanie's benefit.
"I never thought I would make a phone call like this Raylan..." Boyd replied.
"If this is about Dewey Crowe, don't worry 'bout it I already know." Raylan said.
"He's at Audrey's, handin' out Oxys like he's a pharmaceutical rep." Boyd told him.
"Thanks for the tip. Though it's funny you should mention pharmaceuticals ...I have a consultant workin' this case with me now Boyd, someone you and I both knew growin' up. Melanie Davenport. Would you like to talk to 'er?" Rayln announced.
"I don't know that I'm in the proper mindset for a conversation Raylan..." Boyd replied.
"Well maybe it'll do you some good then..." Raylan retorted, ceasing the speaker-phone feature and urging the phone towards Melanie's ear.
Melanie was slightly taken aback, but cradling the phone, she gladly took it from Raylan. "Hello Boyd." she greeted, grimacing at her accelerated heartbeat.
"Melanie. How are you?" Boyd asked, sounding as if a cloud of nostalgia was suffocating his words.
"I've been fine. I um...I'm sorry 'bout Bo..and Bowman." Melanie stammered.
"...Your condolences aren't needed, but they are appreciated. This isn't a topic lightly spoken 'bout, least of all over a phone, but I want you to know that I do regret what happened to your folks." Boyd confessed.
Melanie's response was weighed down by Boyd's heavy tone; it seemed to be awakening an ache within her.
"I really best be goin' now Mel." Boyd said.
"Boyd wait!" Melanie replied hurriedly. The dial tone loudly mocked her. Lowering the phone, Melanie stared at its face as she softly addressed Raylan. "Why did you do that?"
"I knew you'd want to speak to him, and that you probably wouldn't be forthcomin' 'bout it." Raylan answered readily.
Melanie was silent, continuing to stare at the phone even as she handed it back to its owner. "Really is strange bein' back Raylan..." she mumbled.