Jo was lounging around her house on a Sunday afternoon when Raylan called. Her eyes rolled of their own accord upon seeing his name displayed on the incoming call screen; one could only imagine what he would possibly want from her today.
"What's up?" Jo called through the line, not even bothering with so much as a hello. Raylan tsked at her short greeting, but answered, "I need you to take a quick trip down to Harlan with me." It wasn't a request, more of a statement. "I'm already on my way to pick you up." Alright, more of a demand than a statement even. Jo grumbled her acceptance to his less than generous offer before hanging up the phone.
Climbing into Raylan's town car, Jo buckled herself into the passenger's seat before asking, "we going to see Helen and Arlo?" She couldn't fathom any other reason for him to be dragging her down to Harlan County on the weekend. "No…" Raylan floundered for a moment then admitted, "we're going to see the Bennetts."
"Oh goddammit, Raylan," she exclaimed, contemplating jumping out of the moving vehicle rather than being a willing participant to these shenanigans. "I just wanna have a word with Mags, that's all," he assured, trying to quell her growing concerns. It didn't work.
"Yeah, and you wanna use me as a human shield should they decide to shoot you on sight," Jo huffed, crossing her arms in agitation. Raylan chuckled from the driver's seat at her antics. "Come on," he coaxed through a shit-eating grin. "Mags always liked you, and Coover was awfully sweet on you, if I recall correctly."
Her eyes were slits as she glared at his profile. "How're things with you and Winona, Raylan?" Jo snipped through clenched teeth. "Oh, that's enough of that," he stated before reaching over and turning up the volume on the radio, drowning at all further conversation.
Sunday Dinner was in full swing when Raylan and Jo pulled up alongside the Bennett's. Music was playing, kids were running in the yard, and the smell of barbecue cooking greeted the pair as they walked up the drive. Raylan addressed a teenage girl first, "Loretta McCready. What brings you up this way?" So, this was the girl he'd saved from being kidnapped by the pervert a few weeks prior. "Might ask you the same question," the girl returned, eyeing Jo in confusion.
Acknowledging the silent question, Raylan swiveled between the two women. "Loretta McCready, this is my sister, Jo. Jo, this here is Loretta McCready."
"Jo's a boy's name," Loretta commented immediately after the introductions were concluded. Jo liked her, she realized with a chuckle, the kid had spunk. "Jo's short for Jolene," she informed with a smile while Doyle Bennett approached the group.
"Raylan, Jo, what's this about? Come up for a little Sunday dinner?" The eldest Bennett interrogated, shaking Raylan's hand.
Raylan responded with his usual measure of lawman swagger, "well, you know how the job is, Doyle. Nights and weekends is when all the good stuff happens. Task force never rests." He knew exactly what the hell he was doing with that last comment, and his taunt seemingly landed because Doyle asked uncertainly, "task force?"
Feigning bewilderment, Raylan stated, "what, they didn't…" Doyle shook his head at the implied question. "Well, I'm sure they'll be contacting you directly."
Stepping around Doyle, Raylan began making his way towards the Bennett matriarch, with Jo in tow, while Doyle continued to mutter behind them. "Well, task force or no, you're stepping outside yourself, showing up at my family home, aren't you?"
"Raylan Givens. Uninvited don't mean unwelcome, Doyle," Mags Bennett chastised her eldest son. Seeing Jo lingering behind her brother, she added, "Jolene Taylor, as I live and breathe. Come here, sugar." Then, Mags collected the younger woman into a not entirely unwelcome bear hug. Jo knew the Givens' and the Bennetts had bad blood between them, but the latter had never been anything but friendly to her. Sometimes, too nice, when it came to Coover's less than subtle advances.
After Mags had finished her greetings, she offered the two a plate, which they politely declined. In turn, Raylan presented the apple pie he'd brought, a poor peace offering in comparison to the hornet's nest he was fixing to kick up. Accepting the gift, Mags told the pair she'd be giving them each a batch of apple pie moonshine for the road, and then Raylan busied himself handing out Marshal trinkets to the children. These were just formalities, shows of decency to delay the eventual confrontation waiting to unfold.
Once the children were all ushered inside, the adults gathered around a picnic table. Now, it was time for the real business to start. Jo took a seat next to Raylan, which was, unfortunately, across from Coover. The youngest Bennett leered at Jo from his seat, staring at her like she was a piece of meat. "You grew up real pretty, Jolene," he announced while stuffing his face with chicken. The way Coover said her name had Jo cringing, she'd always found him creepy.
"What's on your mind?" Mags prompted, ignoring her son's unsolicited advances.
"Wondering if you know of a man name of Bobby Lawton?" Raylan asked. Dickie closed his eyes in…was that guilt?
"Bobby Lawton. Name doesn't ring a bell," Mags assured. Coover and Dickie shared a poignant look over the table as Raylan continued. "Fella got killed on that Oxy bus a few days back. Turns out, he was a foot soldier for the Dixie Mafia out of Frankfort."
Mags chuckled at the notion. "Dixie Mafia? Lord! That sounds like a mighty dangerous outfit."
"They've been known to be, yeah," Raylan smiled disingenuously in return. "Such that hitting their drug pipeline ain't something we imagine that these hijackers would have undertaken on their own initiative. I believe your boy Doyle inquired as to who they worked for."
Doyle, who had been watching on in silent judgment, finally inserted, "yeah, I asked them. They drew down on me."
Mags' face wasn't laughing any longer, as Raylan proceeded. "Right. Had no choice but to put them down. Well, one of the hijackers, name Elrod Platt, we got his cell phone records. Week before the hijacking show he had numerous conversations with Dickie." Mags' head whipped around to appraise a thoroughly shameful looking Dickie.
Dickie chortled mockingly, "yes, he did speak to Dickie. I spoke to Elrod about buying an ATV for the business." It was amazing how career criminals could still be such terrible liars.
"We may never be able to prove otherwise. But I want you to know that I know what's going on, out of respect." Mags seemed to balloon up with silent rage at Raylan's insinuation. Leaning forward on the picnic table, she barked, "Marshal, you know I deal a little weed. And neither of you can tell me you haven't smoked a little reefer," she referred to both Jo and Raylan, who bobbed their heads in agreement. "And you know my position on Oxy and meth and the rest. And yet you find it acceptable to come in here and bust in on my family dinner, asking if I've had a hand in robbing a bus full of shit from a bunch of Frankfort peckerwoods." Mags was on her feet now, towering over Raylan as she fumed.
However, Raylan managed to remain calm and reasoned, "Mags, I never asked if you robbed that bus."
Mags was shaking her head and her hands in Raylan's face now. "No, no, no. You're just being all clever, insinuating without asking. That why you brought the lawyer along, trying to stir things up. That it?" Jo guessed all the necessities heading in her direction had dried up at this point.
"You tell me, Mags. Is it working?" Raylan challenged.
"Let me ask you something, Raylan. Why do you care so much? Come on, now child. Gonna sit there on my lumber and tell me this has got nothing to do with the history between our families? With why my boy there hasn't walked right for the past 21 years?" Mags gestured to Dickie deftly with her last question.
Raylan suddenly got up to his feet, and everyone at the table tensed. "Frankfort mob gonna come over that hill bringing hell with them because of that bus. They'll stay till they've bled this county white. Whatever our family history, Mags, that's why I care."
Everyone held their breath in anticipation until the tension was broken by Mags again asking if they would like her to fix them a plate. Again, Jo and Raylan declined.
"No one wants to see a war break out in Harlan," Jo reasoned before the two took their leave back to Lexington. "Whether they be a Givens or a Bennett."
In the following days, Jo and Raylan wouldn't be the only ones experiencing their fair share of family drama. Rachel Brooks' brother-in-law, Clinton, who had accidentally killed her sister while driving high, returned to the female Marshal's life in a flourish of bullets and mayhem.
The ensuing chaos concluded with Rachel shooting a drug dealer named Flex, who was threatening to murder Clinton. At least, that's what the bits and pieces of information Jo had collected from Raylan, and Tim respectively told her.
It was undoubtedly an unfortunate situation to be in, and Jo could empathize with all parties involved. Clinton and Rachel both loved and missed her sister, Shawnee; they just didn't go about handling their loss in the same ways. It didn't help that there was an innocent twelve-year-old boy caught in the crossfire.
Family dynamics were hard, and Jo knew that better than anyone. Perhaps that sentiment is what brought her to the Marshal's office late one evening.
The room was completely empty except for Raylan and Rachel. The elder of the two appeared to be on his way out when Jo entered. "You will. But if you ever have any serious doubts, ask me. I'll tell you. You did what had to be done," she overheard Raylan saying from her spot in the doorway. When he turned to leave, his face held a look of surprise at seeing her blocking his exit.
"You here for me?" He questioned, pointing a finger at his chest, but Jo simply shook her head in decline. "I'm actually here for Brooks," she answered, turning towards the woman who looked utterly shocked by her admission. "I'm going for a drink, would you care to join me?"
Rachel appeared to mull it over for a moment, before finally agreeing to the offer. Ironically, they ended up at the same dive bar where she'd first met Tim.
The two women stared silently at their drinks until Jo mustered the courage to say, "Nick will end up alright. Having messed up parents doesn't guarantee you'll be a messed up adult." And then, to add levity to the conversation, "look at Raylan and me, we're super well adjusted." Her comment had its desired effect, as Rachel burst out laughing at the suggestion that Raylan was anything close to well adjusted.
"I know, I just worry how he's going to end up," Rachel confessed now that the ice had been broken. Jo contemplated her concerns for a moment, and offered, "sometimes in life, you're given good options, and sometimes you have to make them for yourself. I'm sure you and your mother can help guide Nick towards those better choices."
Rachel smiled gently at the sentiment, though she might not have entirely believed it herself. After a long pause, the Marshal stated, "I know about you and Tim."
Jo only shrugged at the confession. "I figured you were the smart one in that office."
