"Givens, get in here," Dan Grant calls to Raylan as soon as he enters the Marshals' office in the morning. "Where the hell have you been?"
Raylan slips the phone from his pocket and glances at it. Shit. He missed two calls from Dan on his way in. He must've forgotten to turn the ringer back on after he'd left the precinct with Richard last night. There's a message from Winona, too, but no time to listen to it. Sutter, Muñoz, and the others, including two guys in dark gray suits that scream FBI, are already in the glass-enclosed conference room.
"What's goin' on?" Raylan says. He slips in beside Sutter, who gives him a grim look and a shrug of his broad shoulders.
"Nothing good."
Dan comes around the conference table. "The Federal prosecutor is moving up the trial of Denny Cabrizzio."
"Shit," Sutter mutters. "This is gonna be a bear."
"You got that right," Dan says. "Word is, Cabrizzio is invoking his right to a speedy trial, so you can bet he has something up his sleeve."
Raylan agrees. Dennis Cabrizzio was a high-ranking Miami police officer, possibly in line to be the next chief, when he was brought down six months ago in an FBI sting linking him to several Miami drug cartels, including the one still being run by Gio Reyes. Now, Cabrizzo is being brought to trial, and that means security will be pushed to the highest level for the entire courthouse.
"The FBI is handling the defendant and his family. We're going to be covering security for two witnesses, the prosecutors, and the judge. Raylan, you're on Judge Walker. It's a personal request. He picked you, for whatever reason. With Ricker out with his damn rotator cuff we're short-handed so this is twelve on, twelve off for the duration, probably 3-4 weeks. Richards will take the opposite shift. You can work it out with him and the judge."
Dan goes on to make assignments for the others, leaving Raylan making quick calculations on how to budget his time in order to see as much of Willa as possible. This all couldn't have come at a worse time. He knows Winona is already uneasy about everything going on with Richard and Tomás. And he's not at all happy with the way Richard was talking to her, even in front of him and the cops. The man has always seemed on an even keel, but this thing with his son seems to have pushed him over an edge.
Raylan's familiar with barely contained anger, and Richard is full to bursting with it.
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
"Mama?"
A finger pokes her and Winona rolls over, throwing an arm across her face. Her head is pounding. She opens one eye. Willa's face is inches away.
"I'm hungry."
The thought of food makes her stomach roll unpleasantly, but she gets up. Slowly. She grabs the yoga pants and sweatshirt hanging on the closet hook and pulls them on.
"Come on, then," she says to her daughter.
In the kitchen she reaches into the cupboard for the coffee.
"What do you want to eat?" She asks.
"Waffles!" Willa claps her hands making Winona wince. Her head feels as if it's going to explode.
The house is empty. She peeks into the garage. Richard's car is gone. She doesn't know if he even slept here last night, although he was way too drunk to drive.
After their argument, while Richard finished off the scotch, she'd snatched Willa up from her bed, still sleeping, and gone to their bedroom, locking the door behind her. She tucked the little into Richard's side of their king bed and drank the last of the bottle of wine while she watched her daughter sleep.
Now she swallows four Advil, pops two frozen waffles into the toaster, and puts the coffee on to brew. While she waits she tries Raylan but it goes to voicemail. She has too much to say to leave a message, so she just says, "Call me." and hangs up.
She pours a glass of milk for Willa and heats the syrup in the microwave. The waffles pop up and Willa scrambles onto the stool to grab them and put them on the plate.
"Careful," Winona warns. "Don't burn yourself."
She lets Willa carry the plate to the table while she pours her coffee.
"Where's Richard?" Willa asks with a mouthful of waffle. Under the table, her legs are kicking as she eats.
"Probably checking on Tommy," Winona says, carefully sipping the hot coffee. She's not looking forward to their next conversation. She's pretty sure she isn't going to like what he says.
Sun is streaming in through the window promising another beautiful day. The last thing she wants to do is sit around the house waiting for Richard to show up with Tommy, or go to work and worry about what she'll find when she gets home.
She smiles at Willa. "How about you and I go to the beach?"
"Can we?" Willa cocks her head and spears another bit of waffle with her fork. "Don't you hafta go to work?"
Winona shakes her head. "Not today." She'll call Laurel in a few minutes and beg off coming in. She only works three days a week, tops, and there aren't any depositions scheduled for today anyway. Maybe a little ocean air will clear her mind.
"Why don't you drink your milk and then go get into your suit? Don't forget to brush your teeth."
"Okay," Willa stops on her way past to crawl up and wrap her arms around her mother's neck. "I love you, Mama."
"Love you, too, punkin'." Willa pads away and Winona wraps both hands around the coffee cup, staring at her phone. Maybe she should call Richard. Get it over with. They said some pretty ugly things to each other. Things they can't take back.
She takes a sip of coffee and shakes her head at the irony. One of the reasons she'd left Raylan was so that Willa wouldn't have to go through the trauma of divorce the way she had. Now it looked like that was exactly what was going to happen. Of course Willa wasn't a teenager, like Winona and Gayle had been, and she wouldn't have to split her time between her mother and Richard. She probably won't see him at all if they divorce, but that will hurt, too. Willa is attached to Richard. They've had a good relationship. It looks like all Winona's best intentions for her daughter have gone up in smoke.
Sighing, she slides the phone on and scrolls to Richard's number. She types: We should talk. But she doesn't hit send. Instead, she calls Raylan again. This time, he answers on the second ring.
"Richard knows."
"Well, that's quite an opening line," Raylan says.
"This isn't funny." She sets her coffee down and picks up Willa's breakfast dishes, sticking them in the dishwasher without rinsing them off. Take that, Richard.
"I kinda thought he might be suspicious, the way he was actin'."
Willa comes bouncing down the stairs in her swimsuit, all smiles. Winona turns on the TV, finds the cartoon network and plops her down in front of it, then heads upstairs to change.
"Did he say anything to you?" She opens a drawer, sifting through the swimsuits. Choosing a turquoise tankini, she strips, holding the phone between her neck and shoulder.
"No, it was more a feeling I got." She can tell Raylan's in cop mode. "He seemed pretty pissed off. He didn't hurt you, did he?"
"Not unless you count telling me the truth." She sighs, sitting on the bed, the swimsuit wadded into a ball on her lap. "The truth is, I hurt him."
"We hurt him." He corrects her.
"I'm the serial adulteress here, so I think your guilt is misplaced."
"Winona..."
"Don't make excuses for me, Raylan. I think it's time we both stopped doing that."
There's a long stretch of silence. "Well, okay then," he says. Then, softly, "Are you gonna be alright?"
She hears all the questions he isn't asking. What does this mean for her and Richard? What does this mean for them? She can't answer either of those right now, so she sticks with what she's sure about. Her daughter's life needs to stay as normal as possible, no matter what happens.
"I'm going to take Willa to the beach today. Do you want to pick her up later, or should I drop her off?"
"Um, about that," Raylan says. He tells her about working security for some judge for the next few weeks, but the details go past her.
"So you aren't going to be able to see her? She's going to be so disappointed."
He sighs. "I'll get her tonight. We aren't startin' until tomorrow. I'm gonna do my best to see her, especially considerin'," he says. "Scott Richards and I are supposed to work out a schedule with the judge. I'm sure he'll understand I wanna see my little girl."
"There's something else, Raylan," Winona says. She knows this won't go over well, but she can't think of a way to make it sound less frightening.
"Tommy threatened Willa."
"What the hell?!"
She tells him about what Willa said, the threat to Mr. Bear, and her missing earrings. "And Richard seems to think it's no big deal."
"Well he's wrong. The kid's a fuckin' sociopath threatening a preschooler's teddy bear for Christ's sake. Who does he think he is, Don Corleone?"
She swallows. "I told him I didn't want Tommy around Willa."
"Good thinkin'. What did he say?"
She wads the suit into an even tighter ball. "He basically told me that Tommy isn't going anywhere and to get out if I didn't like it. I guess I'll call Mama..." her voice trails off.
"Look," Raylan says. "I'm not gonna be home that much what with guarding Judge Walker. You and Willa could stay at my place."
She's not sure it's a good idea, but the thought of calling her mother and having to relay the details of what's going on is worse. "Are you sure we wouldn't be cramping your style?"
He chuckles. "Is that your way of askin' me if I'm seein' anyone?"
"No!" Even though he's not there to see it, she flushes. "I just don't want to put you out."
"Like I said, I'm not gonna be home that much."
"What am I going to tell Willa?"
"Tell her the truth," Raylan says. "That you don't want her around Tommy."
She wriggles into the bathing suit bottoms. "This is all so unbelievable. They really had fun together last summer."
"Listen, I gotta go. You still got the spare key to my place?"
"I think so."
"I'll text you the garage door code, just in case," he says. "Go over any time. I'll get home when I can."
"Thanks, Cowboy. I owe you."
"Yeah, ya do."
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
As Raylan nears the end of his inspection of the judge's chambers at the federal courthouse, he notices a narrower than normal door in one corner of the waiting area. It's not on his blueprint. He tries the knob, but it's locked.
He glances at the secretary's nameplate and flashes her a smile. ""Where does this go, Joanna?"
"That's the panic room."
"Probably shouldn't be locked then."
She gives a weak smile.
He waves the paper. "Why isn't it on here? Seems like that would be kind of an important detail."
Joanna gets up and walks over. She's about thirty, blonde, with wide-set brown eyes, and she's tiny. Even in her heels, she only comes up to his shoulder. She peers at the blueprint and scowls. She points at a handwritten date barely legible in the bottom corner of the blueprint.
"There's your problem."
"What?"
"Who gave you this? It's only three years old, but we had a whole renovation since then. I breathed plaster for a year. Just a minute." She goes to her computer and starts tapping on keys.
Raylan follows her back to her desk, looking over her shoulder. There's a framed photo of an auburn-haired man and two blonde boys.
"Twins?" Raylan says.
"Yes," Joanna beams. "That's Jake and Jasper. They're almost six."
"Same age as my daughter, Willa."
"It's a great age," Joanna says, continuing to tap keys. "There you go," she says. "Let me print this out."
"The Dade county engineer's office gave us these."
"Well, someone screwed up." She points to the blue print. "There are new entrances here and here since the renovations, and a second hidden emergency exit from the main courtroom here." She indicates. "All the judges have panic rooms and I'm pretty sure the prosecutor's office does, too."
"I'll be right back for that print out," Raylan says. He slips out into the hallway and punches in Dan's contact on his phone.
"I think the engineer's office is compromised." Raylan says when his boss answers. He tells Dan about the apparent mistake with the blueprint.
"It could be an honest mistake," Dan says.
"Yeah, but..."
"You don't think so?"
"It'd sure give someone an advantage if they knew about exits and secret rooms that we didn't."
"It would." Dan is silent for a moment. "Anyone know besides you and the judge's secretary?"
"Nope."
"Let's keep it that way. Tell the other guys, of course. Can she print you out plans for the other offices, too?"
"Already on it."