Duncan sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He and Daniel had identified sixteen features on the blade and nine on the hilt. This was more than enough to confirm what he already knew. This was the same sword that he had donated those many years ago.

"Well, it's the same sword. Definitively." Duncan said sadly.

"I wonder how long it has been gone. Surely they would have taken inventory at least once since they took it off display." Daniel said exasperatedly.

"We will know for certain when the Museum staff has reviewed the records." Duncan replied sagely. "They have already contacted the Police and Interpol. I'm sure they will let us know as quickly as they can."

"Duncan, how are you so calm about this?" Daniel asked. "I mean, most people would be yelling at the Museum curator and threatening to sue. You were very calm and polite. I don't get it."

Duncan smiled. 'I have had centuries to learn to control my feelings' he thought. Instead he said, "Well Daniel, through contemplating the Zen of…"

Duncan was cut off mid-thought by the sounds of a very angry woman yelling. The yelling became louder and closer. Daniel shot out of his seat looking terrified. Duncan stood, unsure what the commotion was about and followed Daniel to the conference room glass. Through it he could see a diminutive angry woman yelling at the various detectives as they tried in vain to calm her.

"Oh no!." Daniel muttered. "That's not good."

"Who is that?" Duncan asked.

"Callie. Jim's finance'." Daniel replied.

Duncan noticed that Daniel had his hand on the conference room door handle. Yet, he was not making a move towards opening it. He just stood motionless and eyed the scene. Indecision pulsed from him.

"Shouldn't you go and talk to her?" Duncan prodded. The shiver that passed through Daniel was clear and unmistakable. He would not be forging into that chaos today.

"I should go and get Carlos." Daniel replied after a few minutes. "He would know what to do. Or maybe Director Manus."

"I believe you said that she was interviewing a suspect." Duncan remembered.

"Yeah, Jody Cargil." Daniel said absently.

Duncan immediately glanced towards the crime board and found the names Jody and Ray Cargil. He searched more and found Callie's name under the Victims heading. Of course, he thought. She was listed as Longworth on the board and Cargil on the address sheet he saw earlier. Either Ray or Jody must be the ex-husband.

"She seems pretty angry that he was arrested." Duncan ventured.

Daniel seemed to come back to his immediate surroundings. "Huh? Who was arrested?" he asked looking confused.

"Jody Cargil. She keeps yelling about him being arrested today." Duncan offered.

"Oh, yeah. She was. Uh… I better go get Carlos." He said and quietly exited the room. The attractive brunette friend of Callie's seemed the only one to notice him as he scurried off in the opposite direction.

So, Jody was female. She must be the mother-in-law. Ray must be the ex-husband. As he contemplated how to get additional information he noticed Art Mullen walk up. The man had changed. Duncan could see the authority in his walk, his demeanor. The U.S Marshal star at his waist was also new. Duncan slipped out of the conference room quietly in order to hear better. Perhaps he could use the distraction to get a better look at some of the material surrounding the main crime boards.

As Art spoke Duncan casually strolled to one of the cubicles across from the conference room. He glanced down at the papers that law open next to the computer keyboard. A report on a body found in Oregon. He quickly scanned the pages knowing he was committing most of it to memory. A memory that seldom failed him. Seldom failed any immortal. Another portion of his mind tracked what was unfolding around him. All eyes were on Art and Callie. He might as well have been a ghost as he moved to another cubical and opened another folder there quickly scanning its contents.

Bingo! A police report on Sean Holcombe. Apparently he was already the subject of a local investigation. He was linked to a raided warehouse containing rare paintings, jewelry, and statues. Some of which had been reported stolen. Reading more intently he stopped dead on a the name of Holcombe's sometimes girlfriend. Amanda Cooper. Duncan reached for a yellow sticky note and quickly wrote 'Have Texarkana PD send info on all items in the warehouse' on it and then affixed it to the front of the folder. He would ask Joe to get him the information later. In the anonymity of a group effort he knew no-one would ever ask who had scrawled the note.

He glanced up just in time to see Art leading Callie to a conference room and the tall Detective Foster leading Dr. Buckley to a chair next to a cubicle with that looked vacant at least for the day. No doubt the occupant was out in the field. The other Detectives eagerly moved back to their workstations and tried to quickly put the attention zapping situation behind them. Duncan removed his 'Visitor' lanyard and placed it in his pocket as he slowly approached the cubicle where Dr. Buckley sat. He pulled out the seat and casually glanced around. Nobody even looked his way.

"Dr. Buckley" he said around a warm smile. "The Marshal can be… abrasive. I would like to apologize for his rudeness."

She smiled absently. "Well, you are all under a lot of pressure. Detective?"

Duncan smiled broadly, "Please, just call me Duncan." He knew that approaching her in the right setting would cause her to conclude he was another Detective working the case. It would be easier to get her to talk to him if she assumed he had an official capacity. "Would you care for some tea?"

This time the smile was more genuine. "Yes, I would."

"Great, I know this wonderful little refreshment station. The tea is generally hot though the selection is limited." He joked and was pleased to hear a small chuckle. She rose and he lead her across the room to a small alcove containing two photocopiers and Keurig machine.

He scanned the available tea selection and pulled two small round containers from their stylish holder. "I suggest the peppermint. It helps relieve stress and calms the nerves." Duncan said genially.

She smiled appreciatively, "Well, I can certainly use both of those. It's been a day from hell. Several actually." She paused for a moment and Duncan could see a wellspring of sadness deep within her. He let her have the moments reflection. A tear rolled down her face as she continued. "I thought I was coming to celebrate the happiest day of her life. Instead… this. She doesn't deserve this. He didn't deserve this."

"Often, it is only through the strength of friends and family that we find a path through pain and loss. Your compassion and friendship will be both her pillar of support and a beacon to lead her through this tragedy." Duncan counseled as she held his gaze. "It will take a toll on you as well. Take the time to grieve privately. Grieve for her loss, his loss, and your own."

"My loss?" she asked uncertainly.

"She will never fully be the person she was before this. She will clutch at the cynicism of life and fight to keep the pain of her loss fresh. That pain will be her only tangible link to him. It will be your job, if you chose it, to help her slowly move past it. To free herself from its grip. Eventually, with help and love, she will learn to open herself to happiness again. But it will take time." Duncan told her. She drank in every word with her eyes locked on his. She spent a few moments just looking at him. Perhaps, into him before shaking herself slightly.

"I imagine in your work you see this sort of thing a lot." She offered.

Duncan turned to retrieve the first cup of tea. "Sometimes. Though, this is a special case." He held the cup in both hands as he continued. "Everyone here, we are all dedicated to finding out what happened. Who did this and why. I assure you, some measure of justice will be exacted."

"Some measure?" she questioned.

"No measure of Justice can ever truly be enough. Nothing can set things back the way they were. Though, we will certainly ensure our measure of justice is swift and severe." He responded matter of factly. Again, her eyes probed for a sign of hesitation or disbelief. Finding none, she seemed somewhat satisfied by his answer.

He let the silence stand for a few moments before visibly lightening the mood. "Sugar?" he said and motioned towards a glass jar containing sure cubes.

She smiled slightly. "Yes, just one."

As Duncan stirred the sugar cube into the the tea he continued in what he approximated was the casual yet professional tone of an investigator. "So, aside from the arrest of Jody Cargil, what brings you two in today?"

Over the next several minutes Dr. Buckley recounted the story of Rich and Dianne as told to her by Callie. She told him of their shock upon arriving at Jody's home and seeing the various investigators and crime scene analysts. She told of Callie's fear that Jody had also been killed and of her anger at learning of the arrest. She concentrated on the emotional turmoil of her friend and of the various speculations they had discussed on the drive to the FDLE station. As she finished Duncan was already making a second cup of tea for them both.

He checked his watch. They had been chatting for quite a while. Daniel must be back by now and Callie was probably nearing the end of her talk with Art.

"We should be getting back. I need to finish some work I was doing and I am sure Callie will be finished soon." He said as he handed her the second cup. She took a sip and allowed him to lead her back through the cubical area to the seat she had had occupied. "I am sure we will meet again Dr. Buckley."

"Miranda" she said quickly. "I would like that. Thank you again for your thoughtful words." She was saying as Duncan caught a glimpse of Daniel moving across the room as he and Carlos met Director Manus at the far end of the room. The were talking and looking at the conference room Art had taken Callie into.

"Miranda, it was my pleasure." He said brightly. His phone suddenly vibrated loudly enough for both of them to hear. "Excuse me, I need to take this." He said apologetically while secretly thanking the universe for the well timed distraction.

"Of course." Miranda said as she regained her seat. "Thanks again." She said and sipped her tea.

Duncan bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment and turned away making his way back to the conference room as unobtrusively as possible. He answered the call as he walked. "Hello Joe."

Art asked Callie to write down any names and addresses she could remember of friends or family of Rich and Dianne. Also, he asked her to list any places Ray might go for help. Any old hangouts or places he might feel comfortable. Anything they could check out. She studiously writing when he noticed Manus, Raylan, and Jennifer talking along with the Medical Examiner need the crime boards.

"Give me just a minute, I need to jump out there and find out how the interview went." Art told her.

Callie paused in her writing and spoke without emotion. "Ok. Will Jody be released or is she here for a while?"

Art could sense the malice hidden in the emptiness of her tone. Jody had a lot to answer for. Art did not envy her, not one bit. "I'm not sure. It depends on how well her story checks out and how cooperative she is." He answered honestly.

Callie merely nodded and went back to writing. Art stood and left the room with the same presence of command he had before. Manus stopped mid-sentence to stare at him as he approached.

"How about we talk in your office." He stated more than asked. Manus eyed him questioningly and then turned and lead the way to her office. Art could feel Jennifer's eyes on him.

"See that? That's why I didn't Deputize him before. As soon as he puts on the badge a stick magically appears right up his ass." Art heard Raylan mutter to Jennifer as they followed.

As soon as they entered her office Manus turned a sever frown on Art. "I thought I made it clear that you were to be Deputized if you were to remain on the team. Now I find out it just happened today."

"If I had let Raylan Deputize me then, I would have had to recuse myself from investigating the insurance claim for Callie. As it happens, I submitted my findings and recommendations this morning." Art replied in a neutral tone.

"Your speaking differently and your demeanor has changed. Why?" Manus observed.

Art let his frustration show with a frown matching her own. "I don't know what your talking about."

"She's asking why you went from mildly tolerable asshole to a completely intolerable one." Raylan translated helpfully to the room and then turned to point at the badge on Art's hip. "He thinks he's in charge again."

Art continued to look at Manus. "Your in charge. Other than that, Raylan is kinda right. If I'm gonna play at being a Marshal again, this is how I do it."

Manus just continued to eye Art. She needed more convincing.

"It's still your show. We're here to help. Nothing more." Art said sincerely. "If you want me gone, I'll pack up and go. I won't like it, but I'll do it."

Manus seemed to believe him and visibly relaxed a little. "What did you recommend?"

"Full payment of benefits." Art replied quickly. "The company will most likely fly a representative out to tell her. It should happen in a week or two. I don't think she has any idea about the policy. I'm not sure how she's gonna take it."

"At least she won't have to worry financially." Jennifer said quietly. They all seemed to contemplate that for a moment.

Colleen snapped back to the present quickest. "Ok, so Jody says it was a Richard and Dianne Dupree that initially stayed with her as Rich's wound healed. She says they told her he fell while trimming tree branches. She suspected it was either a gunshot or knife wound." Colleen told the group more for Art's benefits as she already knew Jennifer and Raylan had heard since they were monitoring the interview.

"Same story different angle with Callie. She was approached by the Dupree's to stitch up Richard. They told her it was tree branches also. She's a nurse so she knew that was B.S. as soon as she saw the wound. She thinks it was a big knife wound. In fact, when the dumbass didn't take it easy like she told him, she had to bail on lunch with Dr. Buckley over there and take him to the hospital. They had to do some kinda emergency surgery on him. The docs there saw the wound and reported it to the local cops . That's the last she saw of them. I still need to call and get the locals to send us a copy of the report." Art informed them.

"I'll take care of that." Colleen said scribbling a note. "She looked pretty calm in there."

Art sighed, "Well, I'm kinda charming when I wanna be. Right now she is writing down all the names and addresses of folks Rich and Dianne would probably try to get help from. Plus any places they might feel is a safe place to hold up for a couple of weeks."

Colleen seemed to reassess Art for a moment. Art felt the scrutiny and knew she was strongly considering telling him 'thanks, you can go now'. Jennifer seemed to feel it too and decided to chime in.

"Like I said, having Art talk to Callie was the best option. Clearly, it was the right move. She was incensed when she came in. He managed to calm her. Also, if he hadn't discerned so much at Jody's we probably wouldn't have her cooperation right now." Jennifer dropped into one of the chairs in Colleens office and leaned forward putting both forearms on the desk. "I know you see him as an outsider. I get that. But they have both been very helpful so far and…"

Jennifer trailed off as Colleen ceased her speech with a hand. "Ok, for now he can stay." She then turned to look at Art and Raylan. "No more omissions or half truths. I don't care what the justification is."

"Agreed" Art Said.

Colleen look to Raylan and he nodded his assent. "OK. So now we need to find Richard and Dianne Dupree." Colleen stated matter of factly. "I'll go ask Jody to write down places she knew her son or husband would use for a hiding spot. Then we need to break into teams and go hunting."

They all nodded in agreement. "What are you plannin' on doin' with Jody?" Raylan asked.

Colleen seemed to think for a moment. Art decided to offer his opinion. "Callie's pretty pissed at her. It might be better for all if she stays in lockup for a few days."

Colleen looked thoughtful. "I don't have enough to charge her on. We can holder for another 20 hours."

"Dependin' on her phone records, I think I might be able to hold her a damn sight longer." Raylan drawled. They all turned to consider him. "We can classify Ray as a fugitive and if he called her after he dropped WitSec, then we can hold her for aiding and abetting."

The room was quiet as everyone ran their own simulations on how that would go. "We don't have to decide now, but lets keep the option open." Colleen said with finality. As she rose she pointed at Jennifer and Raylan, You two checkout part of Callie's list. I'll send Foster and Gupta to check the other half." She turned to Art, "That leaves you and I on Jody's."

Art nodded. "Ok, I'll go see where Callie is on her list."

Raylan leaned casually on a cubical wall as he flipped through the list Colleen had given him. "Eleven addresses, two marinas, eight bars, and twenty odd potential shit-bags." He said as he scanned through several pages of methodically written pages. Under nearly every entry were some brief notes describing the connection to Ray.

"Hell hath no fury.." Foster remarked as he too scanned a copy.

Jennifer smiled, "Especially one with a memory for detail."

"How do you want to split it up boss?" Raylan asked and looked to Jennifer for the answer.

She dropped her page on a desk and started marking things as she talked. "Foster, you and Gupta take these nine potential shit-bags, these 5 addresses, and these five bars. We'll take the rest." She stood and handed them her page so they could check off their assignments. We can't just go in and start waiving around his picture. So, lets approach this more methodically. I'll have dispatch dedicate an operator for each of us. We'll run license plates, take pictures, note surroundings, and talk to the local cops to see if anything seems off the past few days. No direct contact with these people today. Just look, snap pics, and take notes."

Raylan made a serious effort not to check her out. It was't easy. Then he noticed the other two men seemed far too focused on the papers in their hands. At least he wasn't the only one to notice her more feminine attributes.

"What about the bars? Do we go in?" Foster asked.

Jennifer looked amusingly at the man in his grey suit and blue necktie. "Uh, no. Not today, just run plates and take notes. I want to know who is there and see if any have a sheet first."

Raylan had to laugh a little. He knew a few of these bars by reputation. Ok, well, he knew one of them a bit more than just by reputation. A suit was definitely not a good idea. "I know a couple of these. It ain't gonna be an 'if' they got a sheet, its gonna be how long it is."

Jennifer nodded. "I figured. He doesn't seem like the classy upscale beach bar type."

"Well we can…" Raylan was cut off mid-sentence by the sound of his phone ringing. He fished it out of a pocket and frowned as he read saw the caller. Dan calling. Probably wasn't important. He pressed a button shunting them to his voicemail. "Well, we can start by…" Again the phone interrupted his thought. Again he looked at the caller and frowned. It was Dan calling again. "Shit, I better take this." He said as he moved away and answered the call. "Hello Dan."

"Voicemail? You sent me to voicemail?" Dan said irritably.

"Sorry. I'm right in the middle of somethin' here." Raylan said stoically.

"Yeah. So Art tells me you and Bureau Chief Starke are riding off to checkout part of a list. He says that this list could help find Ray. Do you see the problem here?" Dan said in clipped tones.

"Not really. That's what were about to do." Raylan confirmed.

"Yeah. So tell me Raylan, why the hell am I hearing it from a recently deputized retiree instead of the Marshal I put in charge of the investigation? Why is it that the only update I get from that Marshal is a call asking for a rush deputizing, without explanation, and then when I call I get sent to voicemail. Are you starting to get whats wrong here?" Dan said with increasing volume and irritation.

Raylan shook his head in frustration. "I didn't realize I had to check in like I was damn teenager. We're out here looking for Ray and helpin' with the case. Everything is by the book, just like you said."

"Really? Lying to Manus about Art's deputy status is by the book?" Dan asked flatly. When there was no immediate answer he continued. "She is pissed by the way. Yelled at me for ten minutes."

"It was so they didn't have to start the insurance investigation over with someone else. We explained that already." Raylan said in a defensive tone. "What the hell did they want, the benefit delayed? It was the right damn call. She's just pissed cause Art rubs her wrong."

Dan softened his response a little. "Yeah, well that's what Art tells me. Here is the thing Raylan, I want to get updates from the guy in charge of the U.S. Marshal's investigation. The guy I pay. Not the retired sidekick. Either that or I gotta put the sidekick in charge. Get me?"

Now Raylan was angry. He didn't ask for this assignment. He didn't ask for Art to tag along. Hell, he had opposed both. This was complete bullshit. "You gotta be shittin' me. You wanna replace me, fine. Do it. Otherwise, let me do the damned job. I'll update you when there's something to update you on. I ain't gonna call just to tell you what I had for lunch."

"You sound pissed." Dan replied.

"Yeah, I am." Raylan said honestly.

Raylan could here the smile as Dan replied, "Good. Your better when your pissed. Last thing."

"What?" Raylan snapped.

"Art says you're avoiding eye contact with Starke. He's worried your gonna try something stupid. Don't do something stupid. I gotta go, update me once a day whether you like it or not." With that Dan hung up. Raylan stood there looking at the phone in his hand for a long minute.

"Either that was your boss or an ex-wife." Jennifer remarked from a few feet away.

Raylan turned and locked eyes with her. See, damnit, he wasn't avoiding eye contact. "We better save the bars for later. Else I might just drink for a while."

Jennifer smiled, "That doesn't narrow it down for me."

"I like the ex-wife" Raylan said.

Jennifer nodded in understanding. "So, boss then."

" to first?" Raylan asked as he picked up his hat and a thick file folder.

The first three addresses were apartment complexes. The apartments in question all had new occupants and there was no forwarding addresses for the old. The fourth address was in a rough neighborhood populated mostly with people of Cuban descent. "Well, we can't just blend in around here." Raylan proclaimed.

"Yeah. I think the whole neighborhood knows we're here." Jennifer replied slowly.

"Pull up to the house across the street." Raylan directed. "We'll go talk to them. Show your badge, I'll leave mine in my pocket."

Jennifer nodded. "Are you thinking we can camouflage our real interest?"

"I figure lots of folks around here have some kinda dealing' with the law. Good or bad. Nobody's gonna panic yet. They just wanna see where we go." Raylan said as they pulled up.

"Yeah, thats what I said. Camouflage." Jennifer affirmed.

"You do the talkin' and I'll nosy around and see if any of the neighbors take an interest." Raylan said as he scanned the immediate area.

As they walked up the path, they heard a large dog barking from within. Jennifer held up her badge as she rang the bell. She was quickly greeted with a firm, "What you want?"

"Put the dog up and step outside." Raylan said and placed his hand on the butt of his pistol. There was some commotion and growling and in a few moments the door was opened revealing a large Cuban man in his late forties.

"So, what you want, huh?" the man asked from behind a screen door.

Raylan could smell the faint aroma of marijuana through the door. This was not going how he hoped. They needed to get this guy outside and get the dog calmed down. "Look, I need you out here, without the dog, so's I know you ain't gotta a shotgun or something ready to shoot at us." Raylan said eyeing the man. "If I gotta come in there and that dog looks like its gonna bite, I'm gonna shoot it. Thats gonna piss me off 'cause I like dogs more'n I like people."

The two men stood eyeing one another for a long minute. Raylan was sure that this guy was a confirmed shit-bag. Nothing 'potential' about him. But, he wasn't the shit-bag they were after today.

"Look, we just need to ask you some questions about a car that went missing a few blocks away. If we go inside, we have to do something about that weed smell. If we stand out here…" Jennifer said looking around searchingly, "we can't really figure out where it's coming from."

The man seemed to relax a bit and made his way through the screen door while yelling for someone in the house to take the dog. "Thats some bullshit. I didn't have nothin' to do with no car. I already gotta car." He said as soon as he the door was closed and the dog was mostly silent.

Raylan put his back to a wall near the door so he could swivel his head and see the man, in the door of the house, and directly across the street. Jennifer was doing a good job grilling the man about some imaginary car theft while he made several observational circuits. From inside the door he could smell the weed stench getting a bit stronger. They needed to get out of here soon before this turned into something else. The man, though animated at times, was calm now that he was sure he didn't do what they were there for. As he made another pass he caught a glimpse of a short Cuban man with pressed beige slacks and bright yellow shoes walk far too casually to an old white Mercedes convertible. That was their guy. Right down to the yellow shoes.

"Well Ramon, you'll call us if you hear anything about the Buick, right?" Raylan said cutting him off.

"Yeah, man. I'll call." The man said as Raylan and Jennifer turned abruptly and walked quickly back to her car.

"Which way?" Jennifer said as she started the car.

"Looks like he was leaving the neighborhood. 80's, white Mercedes convertible." Raylan said as the car lurched off. This time, traffic worked in their favor, the Mercedes was well within their sights once they turned on the major street adjacent to the neighborhood. Raylan was impressed with her tailing technique. He wasn't sure about her insistence on driving at first but, he had to admit, she had skills. After a brief stop at a convenience store they found themselves heading towards the ocean.

"Where were the marina's?" Jennifer asked as she drove.

Raylan pulled up a map on his phone and after a few moments fumbling located the marina's. "Yep. That's where we're goin'."

Duncan ordered two cappuccino's and found a small out of the way table on the nearly vacant veranda overlooking the ocean. He hadn't had a chance to get a full update from Joe. A few moments into the call Daniel had entered the room confused by his absence.

"Sorry Daniel, I just went to get a cup of tea and found myself talking to a lovely doctor. I must have lost track of time." Duncan had told him.

Daniel immediately smiled and glanced out the window at the still seated Dr. Buckley. "Yeah, she is lovely." He said admiringly. A few moments passed before he it shook off and returned to business. "I have to go and help with some other aspects of the investigation. When are you planning on leaving to go home?" he asked.

"Not for a while. I'm afraid we still have a fair amount of ground to cover at the University. I've made arrangements to stay for a month more."

Daniel looked happy and a little surprised. "Really? The hotel will let you stay that long?"

Duncan smiled and shook his head. "No Daniel. I've rented a villa on Hibiscus Island. It's called the Hibiscus Jewel. I've only seen pictures but it looks relaxing."

"Hibiscus Island. Wow!" Daniel said a little in shock.

Duncan looked pleased. "Oh, you know it? Good. Is it quiet?"

"Uh. Well." Daniel blushed, "I've never been there. It's… nicer than… uh, I can afford."

Duncan admonished himself. Of course he could't afford to live there. If Duncan had actually been paying for house it would have cost him nearly five thousand dollars a night. But, as luck would have it, he owned several properties in Miami. Of course that ownership was shielded by many layers of obscurity. There was no way for anyone to truly link him to it. A few phone calls had the 'actual owner' offering up the home for a long time friend.

"Sorry Daniel, I didn't mean to sound so… snooty." Duncan admitted. Duncan began packing up his things. "I'll email you the address and phone number in case you need me. If I hear more from Norway, I'll let you know."

As soon as he was in his rental car Duncan called Joe and made arrangements to meet at a cafe near the bridge to Hibiscus Island.

Joe arrived at the same time as the cappuccino's. He eyed them oddly as he sat down. "Cappuccino? I thought you were on a strict tea thing."

"I go astray from time to time. So, is this the guy that claimed to be Detective Foster?" Duncan said as he passed his phone across the table to Joe. He had managed to snap a surreptitious shot of a photo of Jim Longworth.

"Yeah, thats him alright." Joe confirmed. "I guess your were right. He's still in town."

Duncan nodded. "Yeah and helping to search for someone. Did you see anyone else?"

"There was a man sitting in a parked car. But, I couldn't make him out." Joe recounted.

Duncan smiled. "Well, at least we know it was a man in the car. That narrows the field a bit."

"Yeah, and if they were there, they know about the Watchers." Joe reasoned.

"Did you shake Longworth's hand or give him any way to notice your tattoo?" Duncan asked.

Joe thought for a moment and then shook his head in frustration. "We didn't shake hands. The tattoo is hidden under my watch band." Joe turned over his wrist to show the tightly fastened watch band. The majority of the tattoo was covered but enough remained to suggest a circular wrist tattoo. "But he's a trained observer. So, hell I don't know. Maybe."

Duncan thought for a moment. "Were you followed here?"

"I ran five surveillance detection routes before I felt safe enough to stop here." Joe paused in momentary thought. "So, Not unless he put an electronic tracker on my car."

"Like the one's you put on my rental car and my cars at home?" Duncan asked while smiling.

Joe smirked around his response. "Yeah, something like those."

"He didn't have time. Is it possible that he could think he interrupted you before you found the journal?" Duncan asked.

"Lets see." Joe said and rose. "I'll go get the journal and you can see if you can see it the way I hid it." Joe stood and walked about 20 feet away and stopped. Then he turned and headed back to the table.

Duncan looked confused. "Aren't you going to get the book?" he asked.

An enormous smile broke out on Joes face. "Mac, I've been carrying around a journal almost every day since I was twenty two years old. A journal nobody else is supposed to read or even know exists." He said and reached behind his back. Duncan could see his shirt move and some slight tugging. When Joe's hand came back into view he held a journal.

Duncan smiled brightly as Joe regained his seat. "Bravo Joe! I think we can safely say that he doesn't think you finished your inspection. That may be why he let you leave. He's a patient and methodical man. He'll be watching the apartment, waiting for you to come back."

Joe's brow furrowed and a frown slowly materialized. "You want me to go back there an lead him somewhere." Duncan nodded in response.

"I don't get it. That can't be what they're after." Joe said firmly.

"It's one of the things they are after. It may or may not lead to who they are after. I think whoever is teaching Jim Longworth wants to know how much of himself and his quest is documented in that book." Duncan said and the pointed to the journal. "Have you read it yet?"

A very stern and serious look came over Joe's face. "Listen, Mac, there are some rules not even I will break. I can't let you read this."

Duncan returned the mans gaze with equal seriousness. "Joe, I'm not asking you to. I would never presume to put you in that position. But, I think you need to read the past several years carefully and see if you can suss out who this guy might be." Duncan took a sip of his cappuccino and let the silence linger as he watched a bitter battle of internal conflicts rage in the eyes and face of his friend. "Joe, was Le Carne a detective in his life?"

The question momentarily snapped Joe out of his mental calculus. "Yeah, Scotland Yard in the 1890's." A look of sudden astonishment overtook him. "Jesus Mac, how'd I miss that connection?"

"I saw a picture of the head that belonged to the second immortal. It was Howard Throckmorton." Duncan revealed.

Joe retreated into his memories of Duncan's past and had it in a few moments. "The man that Amanda plays cat and mouse with?" he asked. Duncan again nodded in response. "He was a Pinkerton and a Detective in Chicago in the 1950's." He relayed.

"I knew he was a Pinkerton." Duncan would have said more but noticed something else written in Joe's expression. "What is it Joe?"

"They both knew Amanda. Le Carne had suspected her of a jewel heist and challenged her. They were set to meet at night outside of the city. As the account goes, the real thief was caught trying to fence the stuff to a pawn shop in Kansas City. Le Carne showed up and offered his apology and a bottle of 1894 Ricasoli Brolio."

Duncan smiled ruefully. "I remember that bottle. We drank it in 1914 in her apartment in Paris. The next day she left without a word. It was three days later that I discovered she had stolen an oil painting by Peter Paul Rubens from a man that lived directly below her."

Joe grinned briefly and then sobered. "Can all of this be to draw her out?"

"The police say Throckmorton, now called Sean Holcombe, had a girlfriend named Amanda Cooper." Duncan relayed.

"Well that's a hell of a coincidence." Joe said skeptically.

"There's a kicker here Joe. Holcombe's sword…. It was stolen from a Museum in Norway." Duncan said and watched the look of incredulity dawn on his companions face.

"Trondheim?" Joe said immediately. "The viking sword?" Duncan nodded again. "Mac, it has to be about her." Joe's eyes widened with understanding. "This guy wants these killings and their special circumstances to go public. He wants to draw her to him." He reasoned.

"That's the way I see it." Duncan confirmed.

"You need to warn her." Joe replied instantly.

"I know. But I have no idea where or how to reach her." He said with frustration evident in his voice. "It's not like she keeps a single address or a cell phone. She's a ghost."

Duncan saw Joe looking at him expectantly. He knew the best play would be to out wait him. He'd come to it in his own time. As the momentary silence drew Duncan contented himself with sipping his cappuccino.

"Damnit Mac, even if I could find out where she is I couldn't tell you how to reach her." Joe finally blurted.

"Perhaps you could just find out where she is and when she moves." He suggested casually. "Perhaps you could even warn her Watcher that a trip to Florida might in the cards soon."

Joe sniggered. "She doesn't have a Watcher." Joe said with a smile growing on his lips."She has four."

Duncan laughed. "She is hard to keep up with."

The men sat quietly for a few moments. Duncan finally decided that sometimes Joe just needed a nudge. "Listen Joe, if it does turn out that she is coming to Florida, this could win you some credit." Duncan tried.

Joe nodded introspectively. "OK. I'll make a call. But I'm only going to tell you when or if she makes a move."

"Fair enough." Duncan responded feeling pleased with himself. The easy part was over. Now the harder part.

"What I don't get.." Began Joe.

Duncan interrupted his thought. "Why he needs detectives?"

"Yeah." Joe said with obvious bewilderment.

"Because she stole something from him. He thinks its here, in southern Florida and he wants it back." Duncan offered.

Joe nodded. "Yeah and he doesn't care how big a scene he causes to get it."

"So, I have to stop him before Jim Longworth either finds it or proves he cannot." Duncan expressed.

"You think he'll kill him either way?" Joe asked incredulously.

"Yes Joe, I do." Duncan said and paused to finish his cappuccino. "From what I can gather, Jim Longworth liked working alone. That means they will most likely split up the stake out duties. Even immortals have to sleep."

Joe went rigid as Duncan continued. "So, that's why your going to drive by the apartment again. Make two or three passes and then 'think better of it' and drive away."

Joe frowned again. "Then I pick up the tail and lead them to some secluded out of the way place?" he said sardonically.

Duncan's face was impassive. "No Joe. Your going to drive to Trinity Episcopal Cathedral. Park, enter, and find a pew. Lets see who shows up."

Colleen and Art had driven in absolute silence for nearly twenty minutes. Art was trying to think of something to say in order to break the ice when she suddenly asked, "Why is it that you and Marshal Givins are so adversarial?"

Art smiled. "Well, that's complicated."

Colleen nodded. "I understand complicated." She said and looked prepared to drop the subject.

Art pondered it for a moment. This was probably the best opportunity he was going to get at stoking a conversation. "For starters, we're both from Harlan county Kentucky. Which is about the sorriest shit hole in the entire world. Most folks from there never leave. Not 'cause they don't want to but because they can't. So, initially, we had that bond."

"You both made it out." Colleen said showing she followed the logic.

Art nodded in agreement. "We taught shootin' together at the academy for a while and got along pretty well. So we both went about our career. I heard things about him here and there. Nothin' to crazy. Then, while I was runnin' the Lexington office, I hear that he got himself in a bind in Florida and needed a transfer. So I grabbed him."

"Was he happy to come home?' Colleen asked.

"No. He was not." Art responded quickly. "His former best buddy was a guy named Boyd Crowder. Boyd was third generation bad news. They started at each other and I got really good at filing after action reports and talking with federal prosecutors."

Colleen smiled. "Was it really that bad?"

Art frowned. "Hell if told you half the shit that went down you'd call me a liar." Art half smiled as looked out the window. "He once threw a bullet at a mobster. Then told him 'the next one's commin' faster."

Colleen laughed. "Your kidding."

"Wish I was. I'd probably look like that MacLoed fella if Raylan never came back to Kentucky." Art joked. "What do you make of that guy? That whole thing is a little weird right?"

Colleen nodded. "Yeah. It is a little strange. But, I can't see how he could be involved. Normally, I get suspicious of coincidences. But, I think this is a legitimate one. He seems more than willing to cooperate. Daniel says he has really been helpful. "

Art breathed a little easier. This was good. She wasn't going to look to close at MacLoed. That was at least one future headache he didn't have worry about.

"This is it." Colleen said as they stopped in front of a Dentists office. "You sure about this?"

"This is where Callie said to start. Richard's sister is a hygienist here. Apparently, she used to help him out whenever the law was lookin' for him." Art relayed.

"Ok." Colleen responded and they made their way into see the hygienist. They had just entered when they were greeted with a very matter of fact statement from a petite woman in pink scrubs. "I still don't now where he is. I told the other detective I would call if he came around and I will."

Colleen wasn't stymied for long. After a very quick pause she asked, "What other detective?"

The woman gave a frustrated and impatient glare in reply.

Art froze. Longworth had been here. That had to be it. "Oh, you mean Foster?" he managed.

"Yeah, that was him." The woman confirmed angrily. "Like I told him, that worthless prick deserves prison. If you find him, I'll tell you some shit that'll keep him there until he's fifty."

Art thought quick and grabbed a business card from the counter and rapidly wrote down his cell phone number as he spoke. "Listen, Foster is one of my guys and he was just stopping in because he was in the neighborhood. You can go ahead and give me a call if you hear from Richard."

Colleen silently produced a card and handed it to the woman who tok it with an eye roll. "Fine. I gotta get back to work before I get fired." She said and then turned and stomped away.

Colleen looked confused as they walked to the car. "My Foster? How did he beat us here."

"Uh, no. It was Deputy Marshal Foster. I checked in before we left and gave them the full list. Dan told me Marshal Foster was in the area. I guess he sent him over to check it out." Art said in explanation.

Colleen now looked perturbed . "I didn't know you sent the list over to the Marshals."

Now Art cold shift gears into familiar ground. "This is still your investigation. But, we got rules on letting our service know where it's deputies are what they're doin'. That ain't gonna change."

Colleen relaxed. "You right. Sorry. I'm getting to protective. I just have this bad feeling that you guys are going to declare this whole thing your and cut us out."

"Not on my watch." Art expressed sincerely. "I still gotta a few favors owed me. If it comes down to it, I'll cash 'em in for this."

Colleen smiled appreciatively. "You would, wouldn't you?"

Art nodded. "I told you. This is your investigation. 100%. We're here to help. That's it."

This seems to satisfy her for the moment. Art consulted his list and hit on the next address. "Now we go see the uncle."

Jennifer pulled into the Marina parking at the farthest end away from where the Mercedes had entered. They parked and watched yellow shoes walk down the towards the boat docks. They got out of the car and followed at a discrete distance watching yellow shoes enter a gate code and pass through the gate.

"How are we going to get in there?" she asked as she noticed Raylan had pulled out his cell phone"

"We call the Coast Guard." He murmured. After a few moments he spoke in what for him were urgent tones. "This is Deputy U.S. Marshal Givins for Commander Herndon. It's urgent." A few moments passed as the waited on the line and watched as yellow shoes made shuffled along towards a long dock where other boats of smaller size were moored.

"Hey Pete. Listen I'm at the Grove Harbor marina. I need the gate code if you got it." Raylan said hurriedly. "Also, you got any patrols near here?"

Givins listened for minute and then reached up and punched in a five digit code. The gate gave a metallic click and after holding the gate open for Jennifer to enter first Givins followed. If nothing else he was a gentleman. It was evident to her that the boats the man was walking towards had only been recently launched as looming to her left were huge multi tiered dry dock carousels. Givins kept the phone to his ear. "It might work. Are those things fast? There ain't one of these boats thats got less than two engines hangin' off 'em."

Jennifer smiled a bit. She had a strong feeling that if it wasn't a bass boat the cowboy was probably clueless. Those were off shore fishing boats the man was heading towards. "Remind me to thank him for wearing those shoes." She remarked.

Raylan grinned. "Yeah, mighty kind on him. We need to get closer and see if we can get a description and name of the boat he's gettin' on."

They made their way casually towards the dock. Raylan still held the phone to his ear. Together they watched intently as yellow shoes paused and then launched himself into one of the boats. "Well, it's a white boat. Fishing' boat I think." Raylan said into the phone.

Jenner smiled and pulled him out of the way as two men passed pulling huge coolers. "It's a SeaVee 390. Its called 'Not pallamos' written in calligraphic scroll." She said as she gazed down at the man busily prepping the boat. "Doesn't look like he's dressed for fishing."

Raylan looked oddly at her. "Here, tell Pete all that." He said and handed her the phone.

Jennifer turned and gazed down at the dock and repeated what she had said to the Coast Guard Commander. As she spoke another man pulling a third cooler moved passed. "OK, hold on, I'll let you ask him." She said as she turned back to Givins.

His face was stern. His eyes were locked and his pupils were dilating. These things she instantly registered. His left arm shot out and grabbed her savagely but the shoulder and pulled her off balance as his right hand drew his gun. She heard the ear pricing snap of the first round leaving his weapon just as she noticed the pristine bullet hole appear in the sign just behind Givins.

She hit the ground and rolled simultaneously finding cover and pulling her weapon from her holster. Giving wasn't cowering. He was walking calmly forward as more rounds came flying up at him from the dock where the two men with the pull coolers wildly fired off rounds as they tried desperately to get to the boat. The man in yellow shoes was yelling at them to hurry. That is when she saw the body of her would be killer. He lay sprawled out not three feet away from where she stood. A pool of blood began collecting from around his head.

She shook herself and with effort began returning fire. She wasn't sure which one of them scored the first hit but she was certain she had hit one of them square in the chest. The other lay in the boat clutching at his leg. The men now in the boat, yellow shoes hit full throttle and the boat roared away.

"You OK?" she heard him ask. She was still sighting down the barrel of her gun at the fleeing boat. She didn't make a sound.

"Hey, are you alright?" Givins said with deep concern. "Are you hit?"

Again she just stood there sighting down the barrel. Slowly she lowered and re-holstered the weapon. Her eyes searched for and quickly found the lifeless face of the dead man nearly at her feet. She wasn't sure when or how but severel moments later she found herself wrapped in Givins arms as he spoke softly and soothingly to her. After a moment she straightened composed herself.

"What happened"? She asked with far more steadiness to her voice than she felt.

Givins took a breathe and pointed down the dock towards the two abandoned coolers. "I saw them waive to yellow shoes." He said and then turned to indicate the dead man closer to them. "He was eye'n my gun as he walked up. Then I saw his face change as soon as you said 'Nos pallamos'. His hand reached and I saw him pull somethin' out of his waist under his shirt. I started pullin' on you and drawn' down on him as quick as I could manage. Nearly got me." Givins concluded.

Jennifer looked at the mans hand and for the first time registered the 9mm Glock held tight in his grip. In the silence they head yelling coming from the discarded phone.

Givins walked over and picked it up. "Were fine." He said into it reassuringly. "Got two dead assholes here and a couple more in whatever the hell that boat was headin' out to sea." He paused for a moment as Pete spoke. "One's injured. Shot in the leg. The others fine." Another pause and then, "Well, I'd kinda like the one in yellow shoes alive. If the other one give you trouble… well thats your call."

As he hung up a gloom overtook his features. His brow contracted and a deep sense of foreboding permeated from him. It was enough to give her a mild start. "What is it?" she asked concernedly.

"I gotta call Dan. He aint gonna like this." Givins said sarcastically.

"There was no choice." She found herself saying. "You saved my life. If you hadn't…" Jennifer lost her ability to speak as she the hole in the sign was head height. A shiver ran through her again.

The cowboy seemed none the more convinced. "He still ain't gonna like it." Givins mumbled as he fumbled for Dan's contact information.

Colleen was in the lead when they arrived at the uncles house. She politely showed her badge and asked if they could speak for a few moments regarding Richard and Dianne. As it happened, the uncle was an asshole. An asshole that really hated cops. He began by ordering them off his property. They complied, begrudgingly as he ushered them to the end of the walkway and looked on as he closed and locked the fence gate.

"Please, we would just like to ask you a couple of questions." Colleen said almost pleadingly. The man answered by giving them the bird and then walked back to his porch. "I could get a warrant." She said a little moe sternly. The man ignored her as he dropped into a patio chair and pulled a beer out of a red cooler.

Art took a look around. The house was well maintained for the area. It needed painting and a new driveway but it was easily the nicest house for a couple of blocks. "The windows are clean." Art said quietly.

Colleen looked at him oddly. "What?"

"The windows, they're clean." Art repeated. "The lawns mowed. Roofs been redone a couple of years ago and those flowers are all perennials."

Colleen looked at the house again confirming his observations. "OK, I'm not sure how that helps us."

Art spoke loudly as he gestured around him, "This ain't a great neighborhood. It's kinda scary. I'm not sure I we feel all the safe." Art paused and winked at Colleen and then continued. "If we gotta get a warrant, I think we'll have to get SWAT to serve it." Art nodded as if confirming it to himself. He then reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Yeah, I definitely don't feel safe."

The man on the porch looked a little skeptical at first. Then, as he watched Art dialing, he started getting nervous. As Art ws making a real show of being connected to the SWAT commander the man got up and walked down the path.

"Hold on" he said angrily as he approached. "I don't know where he is."

Art was pleased with himself. Colleen, he noted, was done being nice. Now she was pissed.

She stared at the man for a few moments and shook her head. "No, I don't believe you." She glanced at Art, "I think their in there. Get SWAT here now."

It was all Art could do to keep the smile off his face as he nodded and stepped a couple of feet away. "Commander Jackson, it looks like we are going to have to run a warrant at my location. We're gonna need two teams. Door knockers and and a full property search."

"Whoa, hold the hell on a second." The man said holding his hands up. "You don't need all that. They're not here. You can come in and look for yourselves." He reached down and opened the garden fence gate. "They're not here."

Colleen squinted as she inspected the mans face. "I'm going to need backup to got in there."

The man looked nearly panicked. "No you don't. I'm the only one home. I swear. I'm just an asshole when it comes to the government."

Art noticed a sweat breaking out on his face as he was nodding his head in imagined response to the imaginary conversation he was having on his phone. "Yes, I filed for the warrant this morning. I'll have a uniform meet us here with a copy and you can get started." Art said laying it on thick.

The man was nearly shaking now. "OK, OK! Listen they aren't here now but they were earlier. I let them stay the night and they left by ten. I swear to you they aren't here."

"Did they leave anything behind?" Colleen asked.

"No, nothing. They're driving a green Jeep Cherokee. Alabama plates. Honestly, that's all I know." The man pleaded.

Art put his phone away and announced, "Twenty minutes."

"Shit man. Uh, I think they called someone. Scott or something. Made plans to go see Scott about getting money. Thats it." The man barked.

"OK, and I can come in and take a look around?" Art said sternly.

"Yeah. Sure, come on in." The man affirmed and lead Art up the path. Colleen followed him a few steps behind.

The interior was clean and tidy. Art's eye was drawn to several fragile looking curio cabinets and their porcelain contents. He had to smile inwardly, one flash bang would probably have destroyed them all. That wouldn't have gone over well with the wife he imagined.

"Where'd they stay?" Art asked.

"Down the hall, first room on the right." The man replied instantly. Art motioned for him to lead the way and soon they were standing in the small bedroom. Colleen placed herself in the hallway and kept Art and the now docile man in the room.

Art began looking around. "Did you vacuum in here after they left?" he asked.

"My wife did. She's kind of particular." He replied aptly.

They moved out of the room and the man lead Art throughout the remainder of the house and garage. "OK, I'm satisfied for now." Art said as they stood again in the living room. "But if they call you, I expect you to call us. If you don't or I so much as suspect they are here again, the next time you see us we'll be accompanied by twenty five guys in black totin' machine guns and a flagrant disregard for personal property."

The man involuntarily closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. "I don't owe them anything. I'll call you."

Art smiled congenially as Colleen handed the man her card. "Good. We hope to hear from you."

As Art climbed in the car he noticed Colleen was grinning. "That was clever. Very clever." She said and then her phone began ringing. She pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID and smiled. "It's Jennifer, I've got to tell her about this.' She answered and her face went from happy to concerned in the blink of an eye. Art had little time to react as his phone began to ring as well. He fished it out and saw that it was Dan calling. As he answered he heard Colleen say "OK, are you alright?"

Art frowned as he answered, "He shot somebody didn't he?"

Joe muttered quietly to himself as he made three passes by the apartment over about fifteen minutes. Then, he pulled up a little way down the street so he could pretend to observe it. He stayed in the car just watching for several minutes and then got out and stare down the street. He stood there for a few minutes letting a look of struggled indecision paint his face. Then he shook his head and got back in the car. As soon as he was driving away he called MacLeod.

"I should get an oscar." He said proudly.

"Do you have a tail?" Mac asked.

"Not sure yet. I'll make a couple of half assed surveillance detection turns. Just to make sure." He replied.

There was a pause. "Did you notice anyone on the street?" Mac asked without inflection.

"Not really. But I did't see him the first time either. Its possible he just lucked upon me." Joe replied as he made his first attempt at detecting a tail. "I don't see anything yet."

"Don't do another. Just drive straight here." Mac said suddenly.

"Why? Don't we want them to think he's good at this?" asked Joe.

"You said that last time you didn't notice them, right? But when you walked out it was obvious?" Mac said questioningly.

"Yeah, thats right. The mystery guy was in the drivers seat." Joe recalled.

"That settles it. If he was the good one, you wouldn't have spotted him from the window or when you came out. If you didn't notice a tail, your not going to. Lets not give him time to get the other guy involved. Get back here as quick as you can. He's going to follow. Then, maybe I'll get to talk to him before the other one shows up." Duncan reasoned.

Joe drove nearly straight to the cathedral and parked in a garage across the street. He crossed over the pedestrian bridge that linked the it to the Sealine Marina complex. Still he could detect no tail. Sadly, he thought, this was a wasted effort. However, he didn't pause or otherwise let his pessimism slow his purpose. He walked as directly as possible through the complex and out onto the street corner. As luck would have it, there were close to two dozen other people walking in the area. That combined with his need for haste were not ideal for detecting surveillance, not ideal at all. Still he tried to make note of faces and demeanors. Nothing stood out. Nothing pinged his senses. He was now almost certain this attempt had failed.

He crossed the street and entered the cathedral. His eye was immediately drawn to a sign prominently displayed, it read 'Closed for Private Engagement'. He smiled and wondered how big a contribution Mac had to make for this kind of alone time. He found a seat in the center by the isle and rested. Soon after he took the seat MacLeod emerged from behind a column off the right isle.

"Did you see anyone?" Duncan asked him as he continued to walk down the right isle towards the entrance to the cathedral.

"No. I think it's a bust. They must not be watching the place." Joe said letting his shoulders sag. "Maybe we caught them during the call of nature, I don't know."

MacLoed came from the back walking up the center isle towards Joe. "Maybe. Perhaps we should…." The buzz overtook him. Every hair on his body stood to attention. His pulse quickened. He felt a surge of adrenaline permeate through his body. He smiled.

"What is it Mac?" Joe asked as he registered the sudden interruption of his friends thought.

In answer Duncan addressed the room "I am Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod and you I presume are Jim Longworth." There was no answer. "I assure you, we are quite alone. I wanted to talk to you before your teacher arrives." Again silence greeted him.

Duncan turned in place eyeing the room. He closed his eyes and listened. There it was, breathing. Its pace was quick and nervous. Someone was scared and unsure what to do.

"Why does this place feel strange. Its different from everywhere else." A voice asked.

Duncan frowned. He should have been taught the rules by now. "This is Holy ground. It is our only refuge. Within Holy ground, you can not be challenged. This is where we talk, not fight." Duncan instructed. "Haven't you been taught this already?"

There was no reply. The man's voice came from the right isle towards the rear of the nave. "If you have not received that most basic instruction, what else are you kept blind too?" Duncan asked. "Jim, I'm not sure what you have been told. But there are rules. Rules you need to know in order to survive. I know this is all overwhelming. I remember that feeling well."

Again Duncan was greeted with silence.

"The man teaching you is not your friend Jim. He is killing immortals and leaving there remains exposed without regard to keeping our true nature secret. He is doing this to draw out another immortal. He has killed two so far."

"Three" the voice said harshly.

Duncan felt a lump in his throat. Please, let it not be Amanda. "You know what he is doing isn't right." Duncan stated flatly. Again, no reply came. "Jim, we haven't much time now do we? He is on his way here, right?" Silence. "OK, for now, I'll just give you an update. Jody Cargil has been arrested for your murder. Callie is…"

"Do not say her name!" yelled the voice as Jim Longworth darted into the light from behind a column. "He said you would try to use her. To manipulate me. If you touch her I'll kill you." The seething anger rolled in waves over his face.

Duncan stood still and and spoke calmly. "I would never do that Jim. I am working with the FDLE. Working with Daniel and Colleen to help find your killer. We both know Jody Cargil didn't do it. You're a trained investigator Jim. You know when someone is being dishonest with you. Am I being honest?"

Jus as Jim was about to answer they both felt the additional buzz overwhelm their senses. Both men looked to the rear as the doors opened and a man entered. Duncan registered the lithe gait and hardened gaze of a warrior. His searching eyes found Jim first and then settled on Duncan.

The two men stood facing each other fifteen feet apart. Neither man blinking. Each taking the full measure of the other. "I am Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod."

A sneer fell across the mans face. "A clansman with a pet Watcher." Joe bristled at the comment but kept facing the choir and stayed silent.

"Wait for me outside." The man said while still eyeing MacLeod.

"Why should he?" asked Duncan. "Afraid he'll hear our conversation and start putting things together?"

"No. I've told him how manipulative her accomplices will be. He's seen it." The man snarled.

"With whom? Le Carne or Holcomb? Or the third you killed recently." Duncan challenged.

At that the man shot a glare at Longworth. "You've said too much."

"He didn't know about Holy ground. Does he know the other rules. Are you teaching him to survive or using him for your own ends." Duncan asked for Jim's benefit.

"We are leaving." The man said rigidly. "If you stay out of my way, you'll keep your head. If you don't…"

"Fine. You name the place and time and I'll be there." Duncan retorted.

"You said no-one could challenge you here." Jim questioned.

"See, I told you. Manipulative." The man responded with a thin smile.

"That wasn't a challenge. It was an appointment." Duncan said with gritted teeth.

The man turned to leave. "Come along. We'll meet this one in due time."

Duncan watched as the two men made their way towards the door. "Jim, Le Carne and Holcomb were cops. Detectives." Duncan said just shy of a pleading tone. "A Pinkerton and Scotland Yard. He has you looking for something. As soon as you find it he'll kill you like he did them."

Longworth froze. His head still turned away. Duncan could see the doubt in his stance. It fell from him in torrents with every breath.

"Lies. The silver tongued devil is masterful at weaving lies. Focus on the task at hand and do not let yourself be swayed by them." the man instructed harshly and ushered Longworth from the room.

Several long minutes passed as Duncan stared at the doors, deep in thought. He was pulled from it only by Joe's voice close behind him.

"I don't know Mac. He's got a real hold on him." Joe observed. "Do you think it was enough?"

"It was enough to sew the seeds of doubt. Longworth already knows the truth. He's just too confused to see it." Duncan relayed.

"Yeah. Maybe. Lets just hope he comes around before this guys done with him." Joe said

Duncan nodded slowly. "You can stay with me on Hibiscus Island. Go and get your things." Duncan handed Joe a piece of paper with the address. Joe looked skeptical. "He knows who you are now Joe. Your hotel isn't safe anymore."

Joe seemed to ponder that for a moment. "Ok" he said and started for the door.

"Joe" Macleod called as the other opened the door. "We need to find Amanda."

The scene was one of organized chaos. Police cars and news crews dotted the area. Raylan and Jennifer leaned against a fence just inside the marina watching the crime scene techs and coroners going about their work. Raylan was stewing on his conversation with Dan.

"Why are you calling me so soon Raylan?" Dan said as soon as he picked up. "What happened?"

Shit, this was already not going well. "Ran into some trouble at a marina."

"Trouble? You mean you shot somebody, right?" Dan said expectantly.

Raylan rolled his eyes and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Yeah, I shot somebody."

"Is he dead?" Dan asked without emotion.

"Yeah. Two dead, one wounded. He got away on a boat with a fourth guy. Coast Guards runnin' 'em down now." Raylan reported and was fully aware of Jennifer's eyes on him. He always hated making these calls. He knew they all thought he was some gun slinging throwback. But it wasn't like he had a choice.

There was a long pause on the phone. "Are you shot?" Dan asked stoically.

"No" he replied.

"Did Starke get shot?" Dan asked.

"No", he replied.

"Was it justifiable?" Dan asked and then cut off any word of reply. "I mean to say that it damn well better be justifiable Raylan. As in the goddamned ACLU better write a letter to the Miami Herald entitled, 'U.S. Marshal forced to shoot two crazed terrorists after trying every other method known to man to not shoot them.' Is that tomorrows headline Raylan?"

"Thats a little long for a headline." Raylan replied and was surprised when the line disconnected. "Well, shit."

"That didn't go well." Jennifer remarked.

"Nope" he murmured.

That was over an hour ago. Jennifer had called Colleen and explained it all in vivid detail. She even recounted Raylan's conversation with his boss. Then, as the uniforms and Miami Homicide showed up they found themselves repeating the details several times and promising to send over detailed reports. Then, they just stepped back to a spot on the fence and watched.

Raylan heard Colleen greet Jennifer as her and Art arrived. Art said nothing. He just walked past and stood looking at first body and then down to the dock where evidence markers showed where the second bad guy was killed. After a few minutes Raylan came over to stand by Art.

"Go ahead. Say it." Raylan murmured.

Art bent down to examine the the body and then turned to look at the sign with the bullet hole through it. Jennifer and Collen approached and Art turned to look at Jennifer and then back to the hole. "How close was he?" Art asked.

Jennifer replied immediately, "Four feet. My back was too him. He was using me as a shield to get the drop on both of us."

Art nodded. "Yeah. Your damn lucky."

Jennifer smiled and looked to Raylan. "I don't think it was luck."

Raylan kept his eye on Art. His face was impassive. That was probably a good thing. Those frowns meant trouble. The last damn thing he needed was to get transferred out of Miami. He had a feeling that entirely depended on what Art told Dan.

Art turned and looked down the pier. "How far is that, eighty yards?"

"About fifty or so to the marker and another fifteen to where the boat was." Raylan answered. Art's only reply was a nod.

"How many shots did they fire at you?" Colleen asked as she too surved the scene.

"Not sure." Raylan replied.

"At least twelve but more like twenty." Jennifer quickly answered. "I've been trying to count them from memory but it's a little blurry."

"Im told the guns dropped in the water. Did you tell the locals where to look?" Art asked Raylan. Raylan just stared back in reply.

"Yes, we did. They have a diver getting suited up to go look for them and shell casings." Jennifer supplied.

Still looking Raylan in the eye Art asked, "So you shot one in the leg?"

"Yes." Jennifer replied at the same instant Raylan said, "No."

Raylan indicated Jennifer, "She shot him in the leg I was aimin' to hit the engines."

"Outboard?" Art asked.

"Yes. Listen, Art, it was a good shooting." Jennifer said with feeling.

She was greeted with a noncommittal ,"Yeah." From Art.

That really seemed to piss her off. Raylan couldn't help smiling as Jennifer actually took two steps closer to Art and changed her tone from friendly conversational to something like angrily indignant. "We had no choice. There was no cover and there were three of them. If he hadn't pulled me out of the way, I'd be laying dead with a marker by my head right now."

Art immediately relented. "I'm sorry. I'm not tryin' to piss you off. I just have to be real clear on the facts. It's important."

"Why?" She blurted. "Because your all so eager to assume he likes to go around shooting everyone? Thats bullshit Art. I watched him save my life and shoot back while telling some people walking our way to take cover. Hell, I didn't even notice they were there. He stepped to the side to draw the fire away. Jesus, he should get a freakin' medal not a damned inquisition!"

Art nodded. And looked around. He spotted something and pointed up to it. "Did the locals go get the security tapes?" he asked.

Jennifer was still angry and resentful and it showed in her retort. "No, because this isn't the 90's. But yes, they are downloading the recordings. I don't understand why your being such an asshole right now." She said angrily.

As Raylan watched, Art's face went from impassive to hurt and then back to impassive. That was the first time he had ever seen that kind of emotion leak out of Art when he had the boss face on.

"He's here to report back to Dan. That'll determine if I get to keep my job or not." Raylan said knowingly and then broke into his familiar retort. "I swear, why don't they just give us guns and then bitch when we gotta use 'em"

Art rounded on him, "fifty yards and you managed what, three in the chest? Damn good shooting. But, I gotta wonder, could you have hit a leg like she did with perp number three at eighty?" Art said as he pointed to Jennifer as he spoke.

Raylan thought for a moment. "I shot him twice in the chest and then went for the engines."

"There were three rounds in his chest, Raylan. We saw him when we were coming in." Art said firmly. "Did you count your rounds?"

Raylan was getting a little pissed himself now. "You know I did."

"I shot him in the chest too." Jennifer intoned. "Then I shot the gun with the gun as he was running away. He had been shooting at us a moment before but tried to make it to the boat."

Both Raylan and Art turned to look at her. Art's face suddenly turned bright. "So he was a significant threat and you both had no choice left to you but lethal force." Art asked. Jennifer nodded and and then she too smiled. "Your sure you hit him?" Art asked tentatively.

"I don't miss." Jennifer said assuredly.

Art nodded and took a few steps away and started dialing his phone.

"What the hell just happened?" Raylan asked.

Colleen smiled. And placed a hand on Raylan's shoulder. "He got the call the same time Jennifer called me. He spent the entire trip over defending you. He talked Dan out of suspending you and told him he would be a fool to transfer you. He really cares about you. It was… touching. Anyway, thank you for saving my friends life. I really don't think I could take another friend being killed right now." Then she reached over and hugged him. Raylan had no idea what to do with his hands. So he just balled them up. Jennifer just smiled and as soon Colleen released him she hugged him too. Hers was longer and tighter. Jesus, she smelled good. As uncomfortable as it was, he kinda wished it would'nt end so quick. The ensuing silence was a little awkward.

After a few minutes Art came back over smiling in his congenial way. "Congratulations, your still a Marshal. Dan says to thank you for keeping a level head and kindly asks that you refrain from shooting anyone else with that particular gun today. He's gonna need you to come in and do the gun and paperwork thing. You know, you should really think about filling out a whole bunch of those ahead of time. It might save some time in the long run."

What the hell was going on here? Raylan just stood slack jawed as Colleen and Jennifer laughed softly. Raylan turned and started walking towards the parking lot.

"Where are you going?" Jennifer called.

"I need ice-cream." He replied.