Present Day
The beer was cold, the music was fine and so was the company. As far as Tim was aware Rachel was chatting with Art while Raylan was shooting darts with Deputy William. The tunes of some country band was echoing through the bar but the lyrics were unknown to him. It wasn't until the song changed to Jackson from Johnny Cash and June Carter, that Tim couldn't help but grin. Bobby loved that song. And he should hate that song. But he couldn't.
Though the beer was nice and the bar too, Tim couldn't relax nor could he forget the face he saw on the TV earlier that day. He didn't know he'd been staring to nothing but his glass since he'd arrived until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning his head slightly, Tim nods his head to Raylan. The man sat down next to him without asking it first and took of his hat.
That gesture alone made Tim snort and take another gulp of his beer. "You taking your hat of must mean you're being serious."
"I'm always serious," Raylan grinned, ordering two beers again, "whatever gave you the idea I wasn't?"
Tim shrugged, grabbing his new glass from the bartender before fully turning to Raylan. "The stupid things you mostly do gave me the impression you ain't a smart guy, Raylan."
"Ass," Raylan replied with a smirk on his face. Raising his glass with Tim's before taking a large gulp of his beer.
"How do you know Bobbie," Raylan turned his face slightly towards his co-worker, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort when he mentioned the name of the woman who killed the Ukraine President and got away from the FBI, Homeland and CIA.
For the first time since Raylan came back from Miami and started working with Tim Gutterson, he saw a flash of emotion that wasn't annoyance on the man's face this afternoon when Bobby Lee Swagger her face decorated the screens in their office.
"I was stationed with her in Afghanistan," Tim stated dryly before turning his gaze back to his glass. Silence draped around him and Tim could feel Raylan's eyes on him, making him turn his face back to him and raise a brow. "What?"
"I don't know, Tim," Raylan shrugged, "Your skin got real pale when you saw her face again today. I saw you meeting up with old veterans before. Never saw you reacting like that. I mean, she's pretty and all so it made me think…."
"You don't have to think Raylan," Tim's voice got colder, more distant again and Raylan knew he lost this discussion before it even started. "We all know it ain't your strong point."
"Right…"
Tim downed his beer in one go and grabbed his jacket. "I'm out. Here, drink one for me." Giving the bartender extra money and glaring at Raylan before leaving the heavy warm bar.
The fresh air filled his lungs, making him breathe in and stand still for a few minutes. It was already dark and for a moment, Tim craves a cigarette but shakes the longing off while walking to his pick-up. His mind was blank while driving to the South part of Lexington, listening to Alice in Chains and Pearl Jam and tapping his steering wheel.
He lived in a quiet, peaceful neighbourhood since he took the job as Marshall. Although, he felt himself more the sniper on duty then a Marshall. Tim didn't mind…It was his best skill. His only skill. If he didn't got the job in Lexington, Tim probably would've ended up a bartender or working in the Supermarket in Harlan.
Arriving at his doorstep, his eyes flash to his back door and Tim feels something's off. He always locked his house before leaving. His PTSD even made him check every door and window twice before Tim could go anywhere. So there was no chance in hell his back door would've been open now.
Shutting down his car, Tim swiftly grabs his gun that's resting on the passenger seat before getting out. He doesn't slam the door shut, but leaves it open before silently making his way to the door. Avoiding the window at the front by crouching under it, glaring at the daisies growing under the window and stifling a groan that he needs to trample a few to reach the backdoor unseen.
He's silent, calculating every step he takes before reaching the door. Knowing every detail of his small garden ; where the trashcans are or where there's wood lying around for the fireplace that he never used. There wasn't any mistake made by him but when Tim arrives at the door and pushes it open a bit with the gun, a hand shoots out of the darkness and grabs his wrist.
Tim's heartbeat went up a notch but his instincts kick in when the stranger wants to kick the door shut again and lock him out. He swiftly twist his arm, making his wrist come lose but the other opens the door farther and kicks his gun out of Tim's hand.
"You fu…," Tim grunts, surprised he just got unarmed and quickly bursts through the door. Hands first Tim grabs the stranger, slamming him against the kitchen table and making him fall down on the ground. The noise of moving chairs and the shattering of glass doesn't do anything to change his concentration and Tim doesn't doubt when he leans over the figure.
"What the hell are ya doing in my house?!"
Grabbing the stranger by the jacket and pulling him up but Tim didn't see the knee coming…And the pain that strikes him between his legs makes his vision go black for a few seconds. He has to let the burglar go but to Tim's surprise, the stranger doesn't move away. Instead, it moves to the side towards the light switch. Clicking it on slowly.
By the time the light went on, Tim's holding his spare Glock against the burglar's head. "Hand's up, buddy," he grunts, the pain in his voice still present. He clicks the safety off, making sure the threat is real while the Glock rests against the back of the head of the burglar. He's wearing a hoodie and isn't much smaller then Tim.
Tim doesn't hesitate while his other hands dials the Police Office in Lexington but when his phone beeps only once, the burglar moves slowly with hands still raised to face him. Making Tim open his lips when a woman's voice echoes through his phone, asking what the emergency is. But no sound came out when green eyes stared back at him.
Her face was exactly how he remembered it. Smooth skin, full lips….He knew one of her front teeth grew a bit too much to the left, just slightly growing over the other. But not much and if you didn't pay attention to it, you'd never see it. But Tim knew. He knew this face. He kissed those lips and felt her hands on him. Her eyes are pleading while flickering between his phone and his face.
For just a few seconds, time stood still while Tim's gaze travelled over her face. He had to make a choice : report Bobbie Lee Swagger…or let her go. He licked his dry lips before speaking into the phone ; "I'm sorry, M'am, I thought there was someone in my backyard. Turned out it were two fighting cats. Apologies M'am."
He didn't wait for the woman to reply and hung up. Tim's gun was still raised towards Bobbie's face and he would keep it there until she started to speak. "You've got 5 seconds to start speaking, Swagger, or I'll swear to Jesus Christ I'll arrest you myself."
Tim heard the deep breath she took through her nose and smart as she was, Bobbie kept her hands raised. Not giving him any motivation to pull the trigger on her. "I didn't do it, Pork," her voice was hoarse, broken even and it made Tim swallow away the knot that had formed in his throat. Bobbie shook her head again while tears fell off her cheeks. "I didn't do it. I didn't kill him, I was framed. I swear…You've got to believe me…"
