A quick mouth rinse, jeans, Converse, and one of Tim's old Army tees later, Clare was stalking out to the van Tim had waved at earlier. "Ya'll wanna protect me like you're told?" she shouted, "I need to get to my uncle's place!" She pounded on the back doors.
The door opened and she was so startled by their immediacy all she could think to say was, "Thanks."
"Art says he's on his way," the younger Marshal said, nodding to his partner.
Still on the phone, he said, "Turning down Archwood? We'll see you soon. She's out here."
Archwood being a cross street about two hundred feet from where she was standing, Clare nodded her thanks and jogged to Art's approaching car.
"Get in!" Art said sternly, if unnecessarily. "I don't know to blame your boyfriend for being a moron or the hothead with him for being his guiding influence! When did you know he'd gone?"
"Not until a few minutes ago when I woke up. I'd never have let him go. You must believe that, chief."
He glanced over to her scared pale face and nodded, "That I do believe. And it's 'Art'."
Graham was as unexceptional as ever. Dressed in stereotypical blue-striped pajamas, he rolled over, squinted, made a 'WTF' face, and turned back to his nightstand, saying, "Hold on, Deputy. I need my glasses."
"H-honey, I tried to st-stop them. I-I did," Lou-Anne stammered, coming up behind them.
"It's fine, dear," Graham said in an exasperated tone. "Just let me talk to the Marshals. Alone."
"By all means, Graham, the fewer witnesses the better," Tim quipped, hand on his sidearm.
"Winona would have shot me with my own gun, if I'd ever talked to her like that," Raylan whispered to Tim, then said to Graham, "Clare shot a gunman this evening, Mr. Sullivan. Like our colleague, Deputy Brooks, shot a gunman this evening. Now, some would consider, since everyone who has come after your niece is dead, that trying to kill her like this is a bad idea."
"Might be more practical to just call off the hit until things have died down and wait for Clare to get comfortable. Is that what you're suggesting?" Graham shot back, watching Tim.
Tim's mirthless smile in response was enough to make Raylan nervous. Graham Sullivan clearly lacked that modicum of self-preservation.
Chief Deputy Art Mullen didn't say another word as he pulled away with Tim's girlfriend. He didn't say a word and was far too pissed to be grateful she didn't say anything either. They'd made it two streets and a red light before he muttered, "He used to be pretty reliable for staying out of trouble."
"Didn't break your deputy on purpose," Clare said dryly, eyes front.
Art turned at that, "You're gonna quip while a man that loves you is picking a fight with a psycho on your behalf?"
"What else would you like me to do? You're not driving fast enough for anything practical," she snapped. "Light's green."
He shifted and sped towards his boys. "He dragged Raylan into this, too. Like Raylan doesn't have enough of his own shit."
"I get the point. Tim's being reckless and putting others in danger and it's all my fault. Is dwelling on that making it better?"
Art heaved a tired sigh, "It's not your fault. It's just bad enough I got one cowboy going off half-cocked in my office. I don't need Tim doing it, too. He's a good kid and a good Marshal. I don't want him to go that way."
"I love him, Art. Believe me, he and I will discuss whatever decision-making-paradigm led to this."
"Like discussing whatever decision-making-paradigm led to you turning fugitive, I reckon," he muttered, pulling up behind the SUV in Graham's driveway, but Clare was already out the car.
She let herself in, leaving the door open behind her for Art, and raced up the stairs.
"I wouldn't consider that a 'suggestion' as much of a 'should-have-done'," Raylan pointed out. "But perhaps it is time to pull out. Tony Kender's dead. I don't think any names he gave you today will be any better than the last few DOAs you've sent after your family, Graham," Raylan was saying as Art caught up to Clare and Lou-Anne at the door.
She looked at him and he nodded, mouthing, "Wait for it." He pulled out his cell phone and looked for the little recording app Leslie had installed on it.
Graham went on smugly, "I have no idea what you're referring to, Deputy, but I assure I will become a problem if necessary. Your partner tackling me in my office, slandering me. This is vile behavior. Lawsuit behavior."
Art scowled, Lou-Ann looked alarmed, and Clare just rolled her eyes.
Tim said, "If I were you I'd be less concerned about filing lawsuits that the fact that Wynn Duffy's not fond of you killing someone he still had a use for. Some might even say, he's 'put out'. I think you'd rather deal with us than him, but if you want to push that, it's fine. But you're not gonna go after Clare and Brian anymore."
"Assuming it was me. Is that it? One dinner with the charismatic Edgar Moss and I'm the villain? My brother and my sister's daughter, my victims?" he sneered.
"Moss is charismatic?" Raylan asked, digressing.
"Like Ted Bundy," Tim agreed.
"Ah, makes sense now."
"Deputies—"
"No, we think you and Moss are working together," Tim chirped, back on topic, "That little merger deal, Lou-Anne was supposed to keep quiet about. The way she was supposed to keep quiet about ya'll paying for Megan's liver, giving you the idea to frame Clare when the authorities stumbled on the racket."
"We know that's how you met Colin Stark." Raylan continued, keeping an eye on Tim, "Must have felt meant to be, you had the Dixie Mafia installing your security systems. You had corruption at Clare's hospital. You could use the feds to get rid of her and no one would be the wiser." He pursed his lips, looking at Tim, "Seems pretty neat and clean, thinking about it."
"She wasn't supposed to run though, was she?" Tim asked slyly.
Art rolled his eyes out in the hall and shot a pious Clare a dirty look.
"No, but the Marshal chasing her when she ran wasn't supposed to fall in love with her either, so maybe it's all your fault it went sideways, Deputy Gutterson," Graham shot back. "Harassing your fugitive's family trying to clear her name, does she know? How you used to stalk around the office with Brian learning exactly what Clare's role was? Or, how you looked into every little crevice of the case against Stark? I can't imagine how that little firebombing at her apartment bothered you."
"Did bother me. A lot," Tim confessed. "But how else were you gonna leave that evidence-shaped absence in her life? Case against her wouldn't have gotten nearly as far if her own computer hadn't been destroyed... Like he said, seems a solid plan."
Lou-Anne had turned and was watching Clare watch Art for a signal and listen to her uncle confess his attempts to ruin her life. Art still had his phone out. Neither Art nor Clare paid any attention when Lou-Anne trailed back down the stairs silently.