Raylan wakes up and rolls over. There's a shaft of light coming under the door. He listens, but can't hear anything, so he throws the covers off, pulling on the gym shorts on the floor by the bed. The days of walking around in his underwear are behind him, at least when Willa is here.
The light is coming from the kitchen. Winona sits at the table in her UK t-shirt and shorty pajama bottoms, one leg curled under her. She's eating ice cream out of the carton with a big spoon.
He chuckles and she looks up, guilty. "Sorry, it was almost empty."
"Hey, I do it all the time."
She sticks her tongue out. "Funny." But it doesn't deter her from another scoop.
"What's goin' on?" Raylan says. "Can't sleep?"
"I'm so tired, but my mind just keeps spinning," she sighs. "Is this how you always felt? I never could understand your insomnia, but I do now. I just can't stop thinking."
He grabs another spoon from the drawer and pulls a chair up next to her, dipping it in and scooping out some of the partially melted treat. He drips on the table before making it to his mouth.
"At least I'm neater than you." Her lips curve into a smile.
He picks up the hem of his t-shirt and wipes it off. "Better?"
She rolls her eyes.
"Ya can talk to me, ya know. We didn't do such a bad job of it the other night."
Her face turns to his, and he hates seeing those blue eyes so clouded by worry. "It's all just such a mess," she says, blinking away tears.
"One thing I learned, spending all those hours wide awake? It's all a mess in the middle of the night." He reaches out and strokes her hair. "It'll all shake out in the daylight."
She leans into his hand. "The Raylan Givens School of Philosophy?"
"Not quite." He smiles. "I do know that havin' Willa to take care of, watchin' her and the way the world is just...wide open...full of possibilities and new stuff to see...it's harder to get in a funk when I'm around her."
Winona nods in agreement. "When I first gave up on getting to sleep I went to her room and just watched her for awhile." She presses her lips together and blinks back more tears. "She's pretty perfect when she's sleeping." A full smile breaks out, and then crumples. "I love her so much, Raylan, and I don't want to hurt or disappoint her."
He sucks air and blows it out. "I know, me, either. But here's the thing. She's gonna be hurt, and she's gonna be disappointed." He shrugs. "That's life. And sometimes, we're gonna be the ones deliverin' the blow. Hopefully not like our parents did..."
"Especially Mama," Winona says.
"Especially Arlo," he counters. "We'll be there for her. We're already doin' a good job. We're puttin' her first, and she's turnin' out to be quite a kid, don'tcha think?"
"Yes, for now. What about when she's a teenager and does something stupid?"
He knows she's thinking of Tomás. "All teenagers do stupid things," he says. "Hopefully she's smart enough not to be too stupid. And anyway that's a long way off."
"I just want to set a good example, for her Raylan. And I haven't been a good example. I screw things up. I hurt people." She pushes the ice cream away and lowers her head into her hands. Her voice is muffled. "I hurt you, I hurt Richard. Hell, I hurt Gary, turns out he maybe deserved it, but still."
"Hey, hey," he says, wrapping an arm around her and tipping her chin up with the other hand. "I had a part in that. So did Gary. So did Richard. Ya didn't screw up all by yourself."
"Why don't you just get mad at me?" She looks up. "You never really do. Even when I stole that money..."
"That was a long time ago." He sighs. "Look, we had plenty of fights when we were married. I got angry. Ya said once I was the angriest man you ever knew, remember?"
"You were," she says. "But never at me." She flops back down, chin resting on her hands. "The ice cream is melting."
"It was almost empty anyway, remember?" He rubs her shoulder lightly for a few minutes before he speaks again.
"To be honest, I think I was afraid to get really mad at ya. Afraid I'd end up like Arlo, afraid I'd hit ya, or push ya into the wall." He takes a breath. "So I just stuffed it down." And it came out in other ways.
She turns her head to rest her cheek on her hands so she can look up at him. "Sometimes I wanted to make you angry to get a reaction, just so I would have all your attention and feel important for a little while."
He scowls. "Ya were always important."
"Yeah? Well, I didn't feel like it."
Instead of arguing, or pressing his point, which would only keep them circling the same old shit, he leans down and kisses her forehead. "I'm sorry you felt that way."
The puddle of water from the melting ice cream carton starts to spread. He tips his chair back to grab a towel from the counter and wipe up the mess. Winona picks up the carton and carries it to the sink, rinsing it out and tossing it in the trash. She stands there, leaning back against the counter.
"Sleepy?" He swallows a yawn. He is, and he has to meet Richards at Judge Walker's gym across town by seven to take over.
"A little, maybe. Do you think..." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Never mind."
He cocks his head at her. "What?"
"Could I crawl in bed with you? I think I could sleep if you just hold me for a little while. No funny business." She gives him a trace of a smile.
"I think I could manage that," he says holding out a hand. "Come on."
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
Winona wakes with Raylan's arm around her and another, less innocent appendage pressing against her hip. "I thought we agreed no funny business," she says, giggling.
"Tell that to Mother Nature," he murmurs, his voice full of sleep. "You ain't movin' away."
"I'm on the edge of the bed as it is."
"Well, we could do something about it." His hand snakes upward from where it's wrapped around her waist, but she grabs it before he reaches his destination.
"We could, " Winona says. "But we shouldn't. Having sex with you will just muddle my thinking even more."
"A blow job isn't really sex," he says, more awake now.
"I'll remind you of that when Willa's a teenager with her first boyfriend."
"And with that thought in my head," Raylan abruptly flops onto his back. "I am officially out of the mood." He looks over at her. "But I imagine that's what you were aimin' for."
He brushes the hair from her face. "You sleep okay?"
"I did," she says. "Thank you."
"Anytime." His eyes cloud over. "You still gonna call Gayle, see about goin' up for a visit'?"
"I'd like to." She rolls over to face him, supporting her head on her arm. "Like I said, just for a week, maybe not even that long. I've already taken a couple of days off. I can't really afford more, especially if..." She doesn't finish, but Raylan picks up on the meaning.
"You don't hafta worry about money. I'll take care of you and Willa."
"I appreciate that, and I know you will, but I need to be practical."
"You workin' today?"
"Yes. I need to shower and get Willa up. I'm taking her to Mama's on my way to work. Say a prayer that she doesn't ask me any questions."
"Done. Let me grab a quick one, then the bathroom is all yours." He slides her a grin. "Unless you want to save water and take one together."
She punches his shoulder as she slips away from him and out of the bed. "Nice, try, Cowboy."
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
The courthouse is buzzing with activity when Raylan arrives with Judge Walker. Reporters have already gathered in anticipation of the trial, even though jury selection won't start until tomorrow. Raylan spots Munõz with the prosecutor and the two FBI agents as he's ushering the judge through the back entrance and to the elevators.
"Do I get to piss by myself?" The man mutters once the doors close.
"Yep. After I check out the bathroom."
Walker gives a dismissive snort and doesn't turn his head to look at Raylan. The former Navy man and JAG lawyer stands ramrod straight, head bent to his cell phone. He's about three inches shorter than Raylan and all muscle under his dark gray Armani suit. Mostly bald, there's more hair in his bushy eyebrows than on the fringe around his scalp.
The door opens, and Raylan steps ahead of the judge into the hallway, and then beckons him.
The judge walks beside him, still looking at his phone. "I have a speaking engagement at a luncheon today at the Metropolitan Club. I suppose you'll have to be my shadow?"
"Yes," Raylan says. "And I'll need to go in ahead of you and check it out, just like I did at your gym this morning."
"This is ridiculous." The judge has his hand on the doorknob to his outer office and Raylan has to grab his arm to stop him from opening it.
"I go in first," he says.
"Good God. Look, Joanna is already here."
Raylan whirls around to him. "Yeah, she's here," he says, barely keeping his tone civil. "But some cartel goon might have a gun to her head, or a bomb strapped to her chair, or any number of things. So, I go first. That's my job. Now let me do my goddamn job."
The judge takes a step back and Raylan enters the office first.
"Good morning!" Joanna says, brightly. She hops up from her desk with two sheets of paper. "Here's the judge's schedule, just like you asked for. Would you rather I mailed you the next day's schedule the night before? I can do that."
"That would be great," Raylan says. After spending the last few hours watching the sullen judge run on the treadmill, and bench press twice his weight, Joanna is a ray of sunshine.
She hands the other sheet of paper to the judge. "Heinz wants to go over pre-trial motions with you and Dan Pembroke's mother is sick. He's on a plane to Arizona right now."
"Well, shit," the judge says. "Who's on the sub list?"
Raylan butts in. "Who's Dan Pembroke?"
"Judge Walker's clerk," Joanna says. "Nice man. Bachelor. Still lives with his mother."
"In Arizona?" Raylan flashes her a grin.
"Oh, no," Joanna says quickly. "I guess she was visiting some friends and fell ill. Dan was pretty broken up when he called."
It's probably nothing, but it's a big enough coincidence that Raylan's radar is going off. "What's his mother's name?"
"Um," Joanna casts her eyes up and her nose wrinkles. "I'm not sure. But it would be in his file. Want me to check?"
"If you could, thanks." Raylan's eyes take in the room, looking for anything unusual or out of place.
"Can I go into my office now?" Judge Walker says. He's stopped outside the heavy oak door to his chambers.
Raylan opens it and makes a quick round of the room, including the closet holding the judges robes, two pressed white shirts still in their dry cleaning bags, another dark gray suit and a cashmere cardigan sweater in Navy blue and gold.
"All clear."
The judge gives him a sideways glance as he steps by him into "Now can you shut that door and give me some privacy in my own office?"
Wordlessly Raylan closes the door, stepping back into the outer room with Joanna.
"Yes," she says without prompting. "He's always like this when his routine is disrupted." She flashes a smile. "And you have definitely disrupted his routine."
"Just doin' my job," Raylan says.
Her brow furrows. "Do you really think they'd come after the judge?"
"More likely the prosecution witnesses, but ya never know with the cartels. Better safe than sorry."
"Dan's mother's name is Roberta Pembroke."
"Thanks," Raylan texts the name to Stansfield back at the Marshals office, asking him to do a check on it and let him know if anything sets off alarms.
He paces a rectangle in front of Joanna's desk. Ten steps across and seven steps back, ten more steps and so on. After a bit, sensing that he's making the woman nervous, he sits in one of the uncomfortable chairs against the wall, crossing one leg over the other and pulling out his phone. The thing he hates most about protection assignments is the boredom when everything is secure. Usually he brings a book, but with Winona rushing around the condo this morning in various states of undress and Willa trailing after him asking questions, he was a little distracted and forgot to grab the latest cast-off from Tim off the nightstand. Maybe he should try Willa's zombie game on his phone.
The door opens and a girl comes in, younger than Joanna, with long dark hair and a very short skirt. He appreciates the view while at the same time thinking Willa had better never wear a skirt that short. Maybe he's getting old.
"Hi Ashley," Joanna says. She taps a brown box. "These need to go in the file room, and these," she pulls a short stack of colored files from her drawer. "Need to go to Judge Abrams. Also, could you get me the latest sub list for clerks? I need to know who's available ASAP."
"Got it," Ashley says. She gives Raylan a sideways glance.
"This is Deputy U.S. Marshal Ryan Givens," Joanna says. "He's the judge's shadow during the Cabrrizzi trial. This is Ashley Elliot, our intern. She's studying to be a paralegal."
"It's Raylan," he corrects. "Not Ryan. Nice to meet you, Ashley."
Ashley giggles. "That's a funny name."
He hops up to hold the door open as she exits. "Not where I'm from."
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
Squeezed into a table in the corner by the window, Winona presses the phone tighter to her ear, trying to hear above the noise in the crowded deli.
"I've got a better idea," Gayle says. "Dan is taking the boys on a four day camping trip, why don't I come see you?"
"That would be great, but the point was for me to get away," Winona reminds her.
Gayle laughs. "That's right. Listen, I have an idea. Let me call you right back, okay?"
"Sure, I'm at lunch for another half hour." Winona clicks off and takes a bite of salad. She's not that hungry. Whenever she's stressed, eating and sleeping don't come easy. Although, she has to admit she slept well enough in Raylan's arms last night.
Her phone beeps with a text. It's Richard. Can we talk after work? I'll be at the house 6.
She texts back OK. How is Tomás? Then she erases the question leaving just the two-letter response and hits send.
She's still staring at the phone when it vibrates with Gayle's call.
"We are all set," she says, excited.
"All set for what?"
"Dan's uncle has a place on Marathon Key. They've had it forever, but haven't been able to go the past couple of years since Aunt Alice has some dementia. Bert is happy to have someone go down to check it out. They have a caretaker that looks in on the place...he's going to call and have it ready for us."
"That's only about a two-hour drive," Winona says. "And I've never been there."
"It's right on the beach," Gayle says. "Knowing Bert, he's turned down all kinds of offers to sell."
"Willa loves the beach."
"Our first girl's trip! I can't wait!" She squeals. "I'm going to call right now for my flight. I'll let you know the details."
"Okay," Winona says. "I'm really glad you're coming." Maybe you can help me figure out the mess I'm in.